FoxThoughtx

BIKER!YUNHO gives you his jacket no matter what. cold? jacket. want to look cute on your instagram story? jacket. someone staring at you too long? oh, he throws the jacket over your shoulders like a territorial warning sign. back off she is mine. he just loves seeing you in his clothes, or nothing at all, let it be a surprise.

BIKER!YUNHO who always picks up when you call. doesn’t matter what he’s doing: eating with the gang, watching something dumb on his phone, or mid-fight. your name pops up, and his entire face softens like butter melting in the sun.

“hi baby~” he answers cutely, putting the phone on his shoulder while pressing with his head so he can hear you better, “ugh, the pastry shop is closed again, i swear i’m gonna cry if i don’t consume choco—”

yunho smiles while dodging a punch, “nooo, not the chocolate, angel. want me to grab you something else instead? i’m already out.” some guy tries to hit him, he knees him in the gut, still smiling.

“are you even listening to me?” you ask and your boyfriend is already breathless, you do find it a little suspicious.  “always. keep talking, i love your voice.” another guy lunges as yunho kicks him in the ribs, and it’s k.o. for the dude.

“yunho wait, what are you even doing?”

“helping mingi move some stuff, it’s kinda heavy, you know, gears and all that. don’t worry pretty, nothing serious~”

BIKER!YUNHO shows up anyway, bloodied lip, scraped knuckles… but with your favorite chocolate in hand. “for my girl.” because no matter what, your happiness is his number one priority.

BIKER!YUNHO thinks he’s slick sneaking in through your window like some delinquent from a disney show. except your parents already love him more than you, so really… why is he doing it? your mom still gushes about the flowers he brought her, your dad still keeps that bottle of alcohol he gifted. you never told him their favorites, and sometimes you wonder if yunho can just read minds.

once though, he came over without realizing your parents were home. you heard his bike before you saw him, that engine revving loud enough to announce his entry. your dad glared out the window, not knowing it was yunho, “our country will never recover because of idiots like these.” you nearly choked trying not to laugh as you texted your dear boyfriend, “babe, my dad thinks you're a national threat.”

another time, with no parents around, yunho strolled right through the front door with his spare key. shoes off, show on. then he ran into your room and jumped like john cena, shouting: “it's jeong yunho! the love of your life!” he collapsed onto you, grinning like a fool as you were left standing there, fighting for oxygen, “more like the cause of my early death…”

BIKER!YUNHO sometimes is too soft. pulls you into his lap, kisses your hair, lets you talk about anything while rubbing your back slowly. but when he is in the mood, he flips you under him, voice low, smiling into the crook of your neck, “these hands ride 100mph and crush bones for fun…you really think i won’t wreck you too, pretty girl?”

please sir, slow it down, make it bouncy.

BIKER!YUNHO lets you decorate his helmet with stickers. didn’t even hesitate, he just handed it over like “whatever my princess wants, she gets.” (he rides into gang meetups with sparkly stars, sanrio, pink barbie stickers, and no one dares to say anything.)

BIKER!YUNHO lives for the moments you hang out with the rest of the gang. mingi calls you sister-in-law even though yunho hasn’t proposed…not yet. san and wooyoung tease him constantly for being soft, but yunho doesn’t even deny it. “you wish someone looked at you the way i look at her.”

seonghwa and you spend time piecing lego sets, hongjoong shares fashion gossip and advice with you, yeosang is helping you unlock your inner doberman, jongho is your personal self-defense trainer. but overall you also take great care of them, you even pamper them quite often. yunho’s just watching with a dreamy face and heart eyes like, “she’s gonna be such a good mom one day…”

the other members all raised a brow, because, okay, where is the ring then?

“wait what—i mean. she is going to be a good wife, a partner. whatever you heard nothing.” ahem, mr. jeong you better step up your game.

BIKER!YUNHO and you have your thing. finger guns. across the room? pew pew. he smirks, winks, does it back. you’re mad? he won’t stop until you smile. everyone else is just confused. “they do this… thing. don’t ask.”

bonus: when you do it, he clutches his chest and staggers dramatically. “you shot me! right in the heart! i’m dying, someone help me…”

BIKER!YUNHO sends voice messages instead of normal texts. it’s faster, and he knows how much you are obsessed with his voice, especially when he wakes up. he wants to understand what is with girls and their obsession with voices.

“good morning angel... did you eat? i dreamed about you last night. woke up smiling like an idiot. well, i am an idiot in love. speaking of love…i love you, like, so much. more than my bike, and you know how serious that is. anyway my pretty girl, be ready in like 30 minutes because i’m picking you up for a morning ride.”

BIKER!YUNHO taught you hand squeezes for secret messages while riding: 1 squeeze = you okay? ; 2 squeezes = i love you ; 3 squeezes = i’m horny (you made that one, the most used so far)

BIKER!YUNHO gets way too competitive when another biker tries to speed up and pass him while you’re on the back. “baby, i’m sorry, but i gotta get into speed demon mode. i’ll let you do whatever you want me to, okay? i need to deal with a show-off.”

next thing you know, you’re clinging for dear life as the city turns into blurry dots and lights. he wins, of course. you nearly died, but he makes it up to you by turning into your personal servant: fetching snacks and sweets, massaging your shoulders, kissing you every five minutes.

“angel, i said i’m sorry! but look at you—a-alive and good looking as ever! did you change your perfume? smells so nice.” he’s lucky he’s cute.

BIKER!YUNHO who knows you’re obsessed with his hands. you’ve mentioned it once, and now he uses it against you. flexing his fingers while working on his bike, resting a palm on your thigh, or brushing his knuckles along your jaw just to watch you react. his skin is soft despite the gloves and bike grease: danger in the streets, silk in your sheets.

walking home one night, intertwined fingers, his hand swallowing yours whole. the size difference is ridiculous, and you can’t stop staring. suddenly, you freeze, tugging him as well. “hmm, what’s wrong?” yunho tilts his head, brows raised. you just stare down at your hands and mutter, “you.” he laughs, squeezing your hand tighter, leaning in close. “angel, if my hands drive you this crazy, you’re in so much trouble.”

BIKER!YUNHO loves having you in his garage while he works. you’re perched on the table like a doll, sipping juice and scrolling on your phone while your music fills the room. he’ll pause mid-fix just to come over for a kiss, or wrap his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck for a quick recharge. sometimes it’s just a hug, sometimes it’s not just a hug (spoiler alert: you make out).

“baby, one more kiss and i swear i can finish this twice as fast.” he’s lying, he just wants more kisses.

BIKER!YUNHO isn’t a smoker, but sometimes he needs the relief. leaning against his bike, cigarette between his lips, as you sit perched on the seat of his two-wheeler, watching him. he doesn’t even ask, just tilts his head waiting for you to lean in with the lighter.

you light it for him. he exhales slowly, blowing the smoke into the cold air, before flashing you a grin. “don’t look at me like that, angel. you’ll make me think i actually look cool.”

you don’t want to admit it, but the way he plays with the smoke, it itches your brain too good that it makes you want to try too, just to feel what he feels.

BIKER!YUNHO is way too happy, way too hot, and way too dangerous for his own good. but he’s yours. the kind of man who could break hearts and bones with the same hands, and only ever uses them to hold you. he’s a mayhem wrapped in leather, and no matter how fast he goes, you’ll always ride with him, because you are his ride or die.

4. ❥ lover!dk - @studioeisa

he's sooooo loud but fuck i wouldn't trade that for anything :,) that's our dokyeommieee

5. ❥ ex!dokyeom texts - @cheoliedollie

in love love loveee with how their relationship progressed (AND THE PUPPY BEING CALLED DOA?!?!?)

6. ❥ overworked - @rubyreduji

the platonic relationship with jihooon!! dk doting on them and making sure they don't overwork!! i loveeeee~

7. ❥ color me crazy (for you) - @rubyreduji

i sooo relate to reader; those days when absolutely nothing goes right and the whole world feels against you? the way seokmin handled it so well, that's exactly what i need :,)

8. ❥ the things he’s whispered loudly - @seuonji

reader is such a dumbass (they're just like me lmao kgbdfk)

9. ❥ dating seokmin includes… - @svtswhorehouse

i would LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEE to date seokminnie like, it sounds so loving and funnn :3

10. ❥ the selection!dk - @studioeisa

omg he's sooooo nervous here ahhh my babyy (the bowing part reminded me of anastasia the musical [idr if it was in the movie too??])

✩ nsfw section ✩

1. ❥ biting your back during sex - @hoshifighting

him being rough...omfggggggggggggg

2. ❥ fwb!dokyeom texts - @cheoliedollie

nOTTTT both of them rushing to mingyu & jeonghan for help JKFGBDK

3. ❥ text mini au - @hoshifighting

mingyu being the biggest dk x yn advocate dkjbgdkj

4. ❥ post-sex with seokmin - @nsfwhao

omg DUDEEE calm down with the more than 3 orgasms?!

5. ❥ sub!seok - @sluttyminghao

agreed cuz i loveeeeeee the sub!seok concept teehe

6. ❥ boyfie seokmin + face riding - @rubyreduji

indeed, his face was madeeee to ride on

7. ❥ virgin reader - @hoshifighting

we alll know he'd take care of a virgin partner SOOO well :3

8. ❥ thigh riding - @toruro

just like his face....his thighs were madeeee to ride (WHY ARE THEY SO THICK??!)

9. ❥ an ode to d(k)arms - @cheolism-archive

the darms...THE DARMSSS (he's sooooo pretty and deserves all that body worshippp

10. ❥ home made porn - @hoshifighting

Still, that didn’t keep him from fantasizing. Constantly, shamelessly, unhingedly.

He’d never known what it felt like to have warm walls wrapped around his cock. Never heard those broken whines girls in hentai would make— unless he counted the ones he accidentally let out when he edged himself too long. His hand was simply never enough, no matter how many times he convinced himself he could “recreate the pressure.”

The bottle of lotion and box of tissues on his nightstand weren’t even hidden anymore— they sat like holy relics beside his gaming PC, ready for immediate access the second he closed League and opened incognito mode.

Porn never fully satisfied his craving though, he always wanted more. Even the best JAV compilation or doujinshi fan dub couldn’t compare to the real sickness consuming his brain: you.

You, with the glossy Instagram that he scrolled through like it was the damn Louvre. You, wearing micro bikinis in pool selfies with captions like ‘hot girl summer’ while he rots in bed, sweating and crying at the curvature of your ass.

You, biting your glittery, gel pen in class, leaning across the desk to ask for help, accidentally flashing a glimpse of cleavage so dangerous it made him pause mid-equation like he got hit with a stun grenade. Stalking your Instagram, seeing you in the tiniest baby tees and mini skirts. It was the perfect gooner material.

He’d stroke himself under the covers while biting a t-shirt to keep quiet, muttering your name between gasps like he was summoning a spirit. Fantasies playing out in his head that ranged from soft and romantic— like kissing you breathless during office hours— to completely feral, like bending you over his anime pillow while you called him “pretty boy” and ruined his life.

It didn’t help that you flirted with him now.

That you asked him to tutor you.

That you sat so close during study sessions he could sense your perfume from a mile away and taste the salt from the fries you always stole off his plate.

You laughed at his jokes, called him cute, even once said he had “nice hands,” and he nearly evaporated on the spot. Had to excuse himself to the bathroom with a boner and a prayer.

Every night ended the same. Him, fisting his cock in pathetic desperation at the thought of your pussy swallowing him whole, whispering ‘please’ like a man on the verge of religious enlightenment.

And every night, after he came all over his own stomach, out of breath and guilt-ridden, he’d sigh dramatically and say,

“I’m going to die alone. I know it. I’ll be the guy with the Zero Two body pillow and the unopened condom pack from 2017 that he keeps in case of a miracle.”

He did not, under any circumstances, expect you to be that miracle.

Never in a million years did he think he’d actually have a chance, let alone be dating you. You were just too perfect. The literal girl of his dreams.

Popular. Gorgeous. Cool in the kind of way that made any and everyone want to be around you without knowing why. You had that magnetic charm about you, an easily contagious laugh, a confident stride when you walk, and that dangerous habit of licking your lip gloss mid-sentence like you were in a CW drama.

And yet, somehow, here he was, currently horizontal on his bed, shirtless, breathless, with you on top of him wearing his oversized Bleach t-shirt and not much else, grinning like you’d just won first place in a science fair and a dance battle.

“Are you glitching?” You asked, poking his cheek. “Do I need to unplug you and plug you back in?”

“I- uh- w-what? No- yes? No.” He stuttered like every word had just magically left his vocabulary, he was definitely malfunctioning.

You laughed, head dropping onto his bare chest as he laid stiff as a board, arms hovering midair like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you even now. Even after dating you for a whole month.

“A month,” he whispered, still stunned by the timeline. “That’s like… thirty days of you voluntarily being seen with me.”

“Thirty one,” you corrected, lifting your head to smirk down at him. “Don’t forget the bonus day where you kissed me in front of the vending machine and the entire basketball team clapped.”

“I thought I was going to throw up.”

“You looked like you did throw up.”

Jisung covered his face with both hands and groaned.

God, he still didn’t know how this happened. When you had asked him to tutor you in stats, he assumed you were just kidding— or high. But you weren’t. You’d actually shown up. You’d flirted, sat on his lap one time when all the seats were taken at the library, and then acted like it was no big deal while his soul left his body.

And now here you were. Straddling him. Teasing him. Literally wearing his t-shirt with the anime print on it and calling him “baby” in the kind of voice that should be illegal.

“You’re so tense, Sungie,” you murmur, lightly dragging your fingers down his chest. “I know you like it when I touch you. You make these cute little gasps like a baby bird.”

“I-I don’t sound like a baby bird,” he mumbled, absolutely sounding like a baby bird.

You leaned down, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Chirp.”

Jisung squeaked.

You lost it, giggling into his neck while he covered his blushy face with a pillow. “Oh my god, stopp- why are you like this- why did you choose me,”

“Because you’re smart, and sweet, and you get all flustered when I call you hot. And because,” you sat up again, hips rolling ever so slightly and watching his pupils blow wide as you rocked against his clothed erect, “you say things like ‘This is just like my fanfic’ under your breath and then deny it.”

He groaned at the sudden friction, arms falling limp at his sides. “You heard that?”

“Babe, I hear everything. Like right now, I can hear how bad you want me to ride you.” You bit your lip, feeling your wetness growing at a rapid pace as you continuously grind on him.

Jisung whimpered. “Okay. I- this is really happening, right? This isn’t like, some kind of VR dream or like a… cursed hentai plotline where I wake up and you’re actually a sentient toaster?”

You blinked. “What the hell kind of anime are you watching?”

He slapped a hand over his eyes. “Nevermind, pretend I didn’t say that..”

You kissed him then. Slowly. Tenderly. Like you had all the time in the world and like you couldn’t believe your luck either. Because yeah, you were the cool girl, but Jisung was the first guy who actually listened when you talked. Who remembered your favorite boba order. Who’d stayed up until 3 am tutoring you and still walked you to your dorm with sleepy, nerdy affection twinkling in his eyes.

So yeah, you were gonna roast him forever— but you were also gonna ruin him tonight.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered, reaching down to tug his sweatpants lower.

Jisung was in the midst of catching his breath like he’d just run a marathon. “Y-yeah?”

“After I make you cum, will you tell me all about the sentient toaster anime?”

“…Maybe.”

+

“Okay,” Jisung panted, curling into your side like a baby koala clinging to its mother, “that was better than every hentai I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted into his shoulder. “High praise coming from the man who owns a $300 body pillow.”

“She was limited edition!” He quickly defends himself.

You playfully roll your eyes, kissing his flushed cheek. “So are you, Sungie. So are you.”

And yeah, Jisung still thought he was going to die a virgin once upon a time.

But now, wrapped in your arms with kiss marks littering his neck and your laughter still echoing in his ears— he was just really, really glad that he’s been proven wrong.

+

The moment you straddled Jisung and kissed him again, something shifted in the room.

And not just him having an outer-body experience for the sixth time in an hour.

You pulled back from his lips to look around, and the first thing you said was, “Okay, I have to say it- your room is the most aggressively virgin-coded space I’ve ever been in.”

“I told you not to look too closely!” He whined, burying his face into your neck as you giggled and craned to inspect the chaos surrounding you.

“Let’s see…” you started ticking things off on your imaginary list. “Anime wall scrolls? Check. Neon RGB light strips that make your room look like a gaming dungeon? Check. Is that Hatsune Miku in a glass case next to middle school spelling bee trophies?”

He groaned. “They’re collector’s items—”

“You were runner-up in 8th grade and you framed it.”

“I peaked early, okay?!”

You laughed so hard you fell forward onto his chest. “I love you.”

He froze. “Wh-what?”

You blinked. “I said I love you.”

He looked like you’d just offered him a lifetime supply of ramen and also stabbed him in the heart.

“…I love you too,” he whispered, barely getting it out before he hid under the covers.

You tugged the blanket back down just enough to see his red face. “Hey. Don’t hide. I wanna see you. Look so pretty when you blush.”

“PRETTY?!” He yelped.

You nodded in confirmation, brushing hair off his forehead. “Mmhm. Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. Especially like this- messy hair, pink cheeks, all breathless under me…”

He made the most broken noise you’d ever heard.

His hands gripped your hips like he didn’t know what to do with them, like he was trying not to crush you or himself with how desperate he felt. His eyes were dark now, glazed and locked onto your every move as you slowly ground against the bulge in his sweats.

“This is real, right?” He meant to ask that in his head but blurted it out instead, voice slightly cracking. “This is really happening?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Feels pretty real to me, baby.”

At this point Jisung was spiraling.

Not just emotionally. No, that happened daily.

This was a full-system shutdown.

You’d tugged your shirt off without warning and smiled down at him like it was the most casual thing in the world, and now his hands were hovering awkwardly mid-air like he wasn’t sure if he had permission to touch you or if he was being Punk’d by the gods of horny delusion.

Your skin. Your smile. Your fucking tits.

And worse— worse— as your fingers brushed through his messy brown locks and your thighs shifted over his hips, his brain suddenly screamed,

‘I can’t believe I’m about to get pussy before Jeongin.’

Jeongin, his slightly cooler, slightly taller, still-a-virgin roommate who had three rotating Discord kittens and a suspicious amount of cologne but somehow still never scored.

Jeongin, who walked around shirtless after push-up sessions and said things like “it’s not rizz, it’s charisma” unironically. Jeongin, who once said “I want my first time to be passionate and respectful” but also accidentally downloaded a virus trying to pirate a hentai dating sim.

Jisung had always assumed if one of them was gonna make it out of virginhood first, it’d be the guy with the Uzumaki clan symbol tattooed on his ribs and a social life.

But no.

It was him. Han Jisung. The guy who owned a limited-edition anime titty mousepad and squeaked like a kettle when a girl touched his arm. And now? You were grinding up against him slowly, teasingly, and he was barely clinging to reality.

“Y/n,” he whimpered, clutching your waist like you’d float away. “Can I- can I eat you out? Pleasepleaseplease.”

You blinked rapidly.

“…You wanna—?”

“So bad,” he choked. “I think about it all the time. Like in class. And when I watch those ‘how to’ videos online. Like, the diagram ones, not the porn ones, though I watched those too- but like educationally! For science!”

You stared blankly.

He was sweating.

“Okay,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re really cute when you beg, y’know that?”

He nearly ascended.

You barely had time to giggle before he flipped you gently onto your back, hair falling into his eyes as he ducked down between your thighs like a man on a mission from God. His hands trembled as he slid your shorts down, breath hitching at the sight of your soaked panties.

“Oh my god,” he breathed out. “It’s real.”

You snorted. “What were you expecting? A hologram?”

“I don’t know!” He cried. “I was starting to believe you were some kind of high-level succubus sent to punish virgins.”

You cupped his flushed face. “Wouldn’t be the worst punishment.”

And then he locks in— eyes meeting yours as he sticks his tongue out, licking a long, fat stripe across your clothed slit. Soft. Slow. As if he was trying to memorize you with his tongue, the heat of it makes you jolt. He’s not just tasting you— he’s learning you, tracing intricate patterns with his tongue like he’s trying to decode you one flick at a time. Every motion is precise yet hungry, like he’s writing a love letter in Morse code directly to your pussy. His glasses slipping adorably down the bridge of his nose, solely focused on pleasing you.

You gasped at the feel of him against you, the pressure of his mouth sent heat curling low in your belly, it was torture. Too much and not enough. You needed to feel him without the barrier of soaked lace clinging to your folds, and he must’ve read your mind, because he groaned like he was the one being denied. He kissed your pussy like he was thanking it, mouthing over your clothed core before dragging open-mouthed kisses across your inner thighs, leaving your skin slick with spit and bites to your inner thighs. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, everything about him felt so warm.

His teeth grazed you— playful, hungry— and your hips twitched as he whispered something nasty under his breath, half to himself, half to your cunt. By the time he slid your panties down, your thighs were trembling, tossing the flimsy fabric aside carelessly, like he didn’t care where they landed, only that they were gone. Then he buried his face between your legs like you’d been starving him for his entire life.

His tongue slipped between your folds, hot and greedy, lapping up everything you gave him like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. He flicked up and down with obscene precision, wet, messy, relentless— his nose bumping your clit as he moaned deep in his throat, like he needed this, like the taste of you could make or break him. You were soaked, legs shaking, lips parted in a silent cry, and all he did was keep eating like he was trying to crawl inside you with his tongue.

You were loving the way it feels, every bit of you being hit with electricity. Your fingers tangled in his hair the second his mouth met your pussy, gripping tight, yanking just enough to make him groan into you like he was grateful for the pain. He never slowed down. If anything, it made him hungrier, tongue flattening against your slit before flicking up again, sloppy and fast and fucking filthy.

“God- fuck, you’re so messy,” you gasped, thighs twitching around his head. “You like that? Being my dirty little mouth toy?”

He moaned. Moaned. Into your pussy.

Nodding obediently, even as you tugged harder, grinding him closer. His glasses were long gone, hair disheveled, chin dripping with spit and slick as he slurred out something unintelligible against your clit. His tongue working overtime like he was trying to spell your name in cursive with every flick.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, words caught in his throat. “I could live here.”

You threw your head back with a laugh— and then a sharp gasp as he got bolder, messier, more desperate. His hands kept you spread, his tongue curling and licking and worshipping like this was the only chance he’d ever get. He was sure that he’d jizz his pants just from giving you head— sure it’s pathetic, maybe even tragic. But he couldn’t help it. You were just too hot, too perfect, too fucking unreal, and the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of your thighs squeezing around his head, it was better than anything his fist or filthy imagination had ever given him.

Your fingers remain tangled in his hair, holding onto him for anchorage. He looked up at you with glassy, pleading eyes, the lower half of his face glistening with your arousal and rosy cheeks. “Tell me I’m doing okay? Please? I read five articles about this. I practiced on a peach.”

You gasped. “You practiced on what?!”

“Nevermind. Just- keep calling me pretty. I swear I’ll die happy right here.”

You tugged his head back down, voice ragged and ruined.

“Then make me cum, pretty boy.”

And he did.

Like a man with something to prove.

Like a nerdy little virgin who had just found his true calling.

Your eyes closed shut at the feeling, falling apart at the seams. Every stroke of his tongue making your insides tighten. You suddenly couldn’t remember how breathing worked, all you saw were flashes of white invading your vision, cumming so hard that you almost saw stars. You cried out, high and broken, hands grasping at his head as you came hard against his mouth.

Jisung moaned through it— loud and messy— tongue never letting up, licking you through every twitch, every gasp, every last jolt of overstimulation until you were tugging at his hair for dear life and gasping for air. Only then did he pull back, lips shiny, eyes half-lidded, face absolutely drenched, and smiling like he just beat the final boss of his entire life.

Somewhere in the past twenty minutes between Jisung nuzzling your thighs like a man starved and moaning like he was the one cumming, you had apparently blacked out, transcended the mortal plane, and been reborn as a puddle of girl.

Now, you lay sprawled across his unmade bed, fully clothed from the waist up and violently ruined from the waist down, chest heaving, eyes wet and glassy, one sock half-off your foot like a casualty of war.

And Jisung?

Jisung was cuddled up beside you like the world’s horniest golden retriever, chin resting on your shoulder, looking so smug and soft it was almost offensive.

You could still feel the ghost of his tongue between your legs.

“You sure you’ve never done this before?” You croaked out, blinking up at the ceiling like it had answers.

Jisung tilted his head innocently. “What, that? Nah. I just… researched. A lot. And I… uh, practiced on a fruit.”

You turned your head slowly. “Was it the peach again?”

“…It might’ve also been a mango. For tongue agility. But I named it after you, so it was romantic!”

You tried to snort, but it came out as a wheeze. “I can’t feel my legs, Jisung.”

He beamed. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Still taking it as one.”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek, then your nose, then your forehead like he hadn’t just destroyed your entire nervous system with his mouth.

“I feel like I just unlocked a secret side quest,” he victoriously cheered. “‘Satisfy hot girlfriend until she sees God.’ Bonus XP for oral stamina. Am I your favorite now?”

You blinked at him, still fighting for air. “I don’t even know my name right now. You’ve ruined me.”

Jisung squeaked and tucked his face into your neck, practically vibrating with joy. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“You should. I saw the afterlife. It was just a video game buffering screen.”

He laughed, then rolled onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe this is real. You’re real. Your thighs are real. I had a girlfriend and head privileges all in the same night. I feel like I need to call my mom.”

“Please don’t.”

“Too late. She deserves to know her son peaked.”

You smacked him lightly with the nearest pillow, still grasping for air, still dazed.

And then he smiled at you— so big, so genuine, so sickeningly in love that your tired heart clenched.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat, y’know,” he mumbled, brushing hair from your face. “Just say the word.”

You looked at him, the boy with anime figures on his shelf, lotion still on his desk, and love in his eyes, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Next time,” you whispered, “I’m returning the favor.”

Mindlessly reaching into his sweats, the second your hand wrapped around his length, you froze.

“…Jisung.”

“H-huh?”

You gave a blank expression. Looking down. Looking back up.

“This is- you’re.. how is this even—?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” he cried. “IT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE, I’M ONLY 5’7!”

You stared at him like he just told you he had a second life as a Marvel superhero.

“Oh my god, I just assumed you’d be, like—”

“Average?!” He gasped, scandalized.

“No! I just- I mean- look at you! You’re this cute little nerd with anime socks and a keyboard with cat ears.. how are you packing all this?!”

You were in utter disbelief, there’s no way your sweet, stammering little boyfriend had been walking around with a dick that big and had no idea what kind of weapon he was carrying. Just raw, untapped dick potential— XL stats on a man who still apologizes when his knees crack too loud. Poor baby had been lugging around a whole third leg, and didn’t even know the first thing to do with it ;(

He simply shook his head, fully tomato red now, flailing beneath you like he was about to spontaneously combust. He watched you like he was afraid to blink. You pumped him once, slowly, watching him shiver under your touch. His lips parted. His back arched. You hadn’t even gotten started and he already looked completely ruined.

“Can I ride you?” You asked sweetly.

He nodded so fast his head could nearly fell off. “Yes. Yes, oh my god, yes- please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” You cocked your eyebrow.

“I’ll uninstall League right now if you ask me to—”

You giggled as you rolled the condom down over him, letting his hands greedily grab at your thighs. He was panting, forehead glistening with a sheen of sweat, like his brain was overheating just from the anticipation.

Then you finally lowered yourself, sinking down onto him, gradually, feeling the way you take him so easily from being soaking wet. Jisung mumbles something illegible under his breath as your cunt swallows his cock whole. It didn’t take long for you to reach the end of him since you were already so ready for him, staying in the same position to feel all of him inside you. His cock was splitting you open so nicely, it felt like you were in utter paradise.

And he made the sound.

Like his soul physically left his body, floated into the air, and gave you a salute on the way out.

“F-fuck.. you’re tight, I can’t—” he clutched your waist, eyes fluttering. “I’m gonna die. This is it. This is how I go.” He desperately bucks into you, wanting to feel more movement from you.

You move your hips to match his rhythm as you gain your balance, pressing both hands on his shoulder blades. You bounce slightly up and down on his cock, feeling your walls being filled up by every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him real slow to picking up your pace indefinitely. Jisung threw his head back against the pillow from the pleasure, the sound of his balls hitting against your ass with the combination of it jiggling as you rode him like a bunny was enough to make him want to burst on the spot.

You leaned down and give him a chaste kiss. “Best way to go, huh?”

He nods vehemently. “Please don’t stop. Ever. I’ll cancel my Crunchyroll subscription for you. I’ll stop buying figurines. I’ll even delete my Genshin account.”

“Okay, now you’re being dramatic.”

He groaned helplessly as you continuously rode him like your life depended on it, breath hitching with every drag of your hips. He was so sensitive, so overwhelmed with it all that he couldn’t stop moaning into your mouth, mumbling broken, incoherent things like, “You feel soso good,” and “I can’t believe I get to have this,” and “Am I still breathing? No? Cool.”

You kissed down his jaw, showing no signs of stopping. You knew this was going to be one of those moments you’d both play on loop in your heads for a long, long time. “Still pretty, baby.”

He pants out. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You simply keep moaning as you kept bouncing on his cock, he was thrusting back into you, going even deeper. Your eyes reaching the back of your skull from the way he was hitting all the right spots. It wouldn’t take long before you started screaming his name and showering him with endless compliments.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Ji.” You were a broken record at this point, nothing but your whines and his grunts filling the room. You felt tense, your clit was throbbing, the pressure build up making you dizzy. Jisung couldn’t keep his eyes off you for a second, the way your tits bounced through your shirt, the way your long acrylics dug into his skin, he wasn’t even sure how he was still alive.

This was better than any of those fake scenarios that he’d absentmindedly create in his head, better than finally beating a level that he’d get stuck on for hours. He was in pure heaven, and he felt his high approaching any minute.

“I-I think ’m gonna cum,” he desperately choked out, rocking into you like a dog in heat.

Jisung was wrecked beneath you. Hands fisting into the sheets, mouth agape, his eyes rolling back every time you sank down fully and clenched around him.

“Fuck, please- please, I-I can’t,” he whimpered, voice shaky, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. His stomach tightening with every motion, trying so hard not to lose it.

You leaned forward and cupped his face, riding him a little harder, the slap of skin soft but steady. “You said you could take it, baby,” you whispered, voice syrup-sweet. “You begged for this.”

“I know, I- just- pleaseplease can I cum?” he panted, nearly on the verge of tears. His voice was raw, wrecked, like every second you didn’t let him was a cruel punishment. “’m so close, I’m- I’ll be good, I swear, just let me.. please—”

You seal his lips with yours, just to quiet the begging, grinning against his mouth as his hands fumbled for your hips again. He moaned into the kiss, his hips twitching helplessly under yours.

“You’re lucky you’re cute when you beg,” you airly chuckled, pulling back just enough to look down at him. His eyes were wild, glazed over, the pretty sounds he made were like music to your ears.

“Th-thank you,” he sobbed, the gratitude in his voice borderline ridiculous. “’m gonna- I’m- oh my god—”

And with that, he finally let go. Releasing every last drop of his seed into the condom, muscles tensing up, gripping you like you were his only tether to reality. He looked down to see your arousal creating a white, creamy ring around the base of his thick cock, almost about to cum again just from the mere sight alone. Your legs felt like jello, you were weightless, collapsing onto his sweaty, sticky chest as you try to catch your breath, brain all foggy in your post-coital daze.

You didn’t expect him to cry.

Okay— not, like, full sobbing. But a little misty-eyed? A little “what did I do to deserve this?” A sparkle in his gaze as you lay draped across his chest, both of you blissed out and glowing in the soft, RGB-lit afterglow?

Yeah.

He was trying so hard not to sniffle.

“You okay, baby?” You murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of his jaw.

Jisung nodded, eyes wide and glassy. “I just… I thought my first time would be like, awkward. Or disappointing. Or I’d accidentally sneeze into someone’s mouth and get banned from touching boobs forever.”

You laughed against his skin. “Definitely didn’t happen.”

“No,” he grins, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “this was better than anything I could’ve ever imagined in my head. Better than my first SSR pull in Genshin. Better than when I tried the seasonal spicy chicken ramen and lived.”

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “That’s a pretty long list of victories to beat.”

“You’re the only victory that matters.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned playfully, “who is this smooth man and what has he done with my sweaty, anime-obsessed virgin boyfriend?”

He huffed, burying his face into your hair. “He’s still sweaty and obsessed with anime. He just… also happens to be madly in love with you.”

You smiled into his chest.

“Also,” he added, completely deadpan, “I think I saw the shadow realm.”

You snorted. “When?”

“When you said I was pretty and grabbed my—” His voice cracked. He covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god, I can’t say it. My ancestors are watching.”

You giggled, shifting to lay next to him and intertwining your fingers with his.

And for a while, it was just quiet. Safe. His hand slowly brushing over your side. Your heartbeat syncing with his. The faint whir of his PC fan still spinning in the corner because, of course, he never actually shut it down.

Then he jolted upright suddenly, as if he remembered something urgent.

“Wait.”

You blinked up at him, amused. “What?”

He slid off the bed, naked except for one, singular sock and scurried to his cluttered desk. You watched, dazed and curious, as he fumbled with drawers and cracked open a cabinet that definitely shouldn’t have had food in it.

Finally, he turned around triumphantly. Holding out a white, rectangular box.

“Pocky.”

You stared. “…Seriously?”

“I always imagined I’d give my girlfriend Pocky after her first time with me,” he said solemnly. “Like a weird little anime reward.”

You sat up and grinned. “You are a weird little anime reward.”

He climbed back into bed beside you and opened the box, pulling out one, white chocolate-dipped stick and offering it with both hands like it was a sacred gift.

You bit it gently from his fingers.

“Mmm. You’re such a good boy,” you purred with a playful smile, “giving me snacks after ruining me.”

He short-circuited. Almost choking on his own Pocky. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I hope so.”

You kissed his cheek, then his nose, and then— just to mess with him— you whispered, “Still thinking about how big you are, by the way.”

Jisung made a noise so high-pitched it could only be heard by dogs. He flopped face down into the sheets, flailing helplessly while you laughed and straddled his back.

“You have to stop saying things like that,” he muffled into the pillow.

“Why?” You asked sweetly, brushing his hair back. “You’re my pretty boy. I’m just appreciating what’s mine.”

He peeked up at you, still pink, still glowing.

“…Promise you’re mine too?”

You leaned down and pressed your lips against his, soft and slow.

— para de me provocar, por favor! — sua voz treme com o chorinho leve que ameaça deixar sua garganta, tamanho era o seu desespero.

uma risadinha soprada deixa os lábios da sua namorada, num escárnio flagrante.

estavam naquela provocaçãozinha há pouco mais de trinta minutinhos e você já sentia seu buraquinho doer de vontade.

— quer que eu pare, é? — a morena arqueia a coluna mais uma vez, ficando de quatro, toda empinadinha, em cima de você.

na posição propícia para rebolar lentinho, chacoalhando o bumbum de um lado para o outro, ameaçando esfregar as dobras meladas bem na sua cara.

você leva as mãos até as coxas leitosas — os olhos fixos na buceta abertinha bem na frente do seu rosto — e aperta com força, puxando ela para você.

estava tão pertinho que você já conseguia sentir o cheiro do almíscar docinho e isso te deixa perdidinha, doida para enterrar o nariz na fonte.

— nini, p-por favor… por- — cansada dos seus choramingos, sua namorada senta de uma vez no seu rosto, gemendo gostosinho quando sente o jeitinho solícito com que sua língua babadinha recebeu o buraquinho sensível.

— hmmmm, — você esfrega o nariz no clitóris inchadinho, fungando com carência, enquanto a língua desliza pela buceta molhada, colhendo tudo que goteja da entrada empanturrada de melzinho, — ahnnn-hm — revira os olhos quando sente o gosto característico dela no seu paladar, sacolejando a cabeça de levinho só para lambuzar a cara totalmente, esticando a língua para lamber com mais afinco.

seus pulmões queimam e você se dá conta que mal deu uma respiração completa.

se afasta só o suficiente para usar as duas mãos para abrir os lábios gordinhos, desesperada para ver o jeitinho que o buraquinho piscava, forçando o líquido pegajoso a escorrer pelos seus dedos, — tão gostosa, nini.

você via que já estava molhada o suficiente, sabia que enfiar os dedos inteiros ali não seria dificuldade, mas não se conteve em cuspir na bucetinha mesmo assim, deixando um filete espesso de saliva pingar direto no buraquinho, assistindo enquanto metade flui para fora e metade forma uma pocinha.

geme manhosinha com a visão, quase chorando de tanto tesão.

a coluna de ning dói devido ao esforço de ter de se desdobrar só para ver o que você fazia ali atrás, mas vale totalmente a pena.

sempre valeria. se ver o seu rostinho todo melado, sujo de lubrificação, com a boquinha brilhante aberta como se pedisse mais, e a feição de quem ‘tá pedindo buceta — fosse o prêmio.

a morena choraminga.

e você leva as mãos até o bumbum redondinho, amassando a carne com vontade, aproveitado a deixa para tentar fazer ela sentar no seu rosto novamente.

vendo que você parecia estar aproveitando mais do que ela mesma, ela agarra suas mãos, que abriam as bandas dela, e te força a ficar quietinha.

— vai ser de jeito que eu quero, ouviu? — a voz fraquinha exige, mimada como sempre, mas você não reclama. contanto que ela te dê buceta, não se importaria com mais nada.

você não percebe o tanto que demorou a responder até sentir a sentada firme que ela dá no seu rosto, efetivamente cortando seu ar, deixando sua mente turva porque, meu deus… daquele jeito, tudo que existia na sua mente era ela. tudo que conseguia se concentrar era nela.

no cheiro, no sabor, na quentura, no peso esmagando seu rosto delicado.

você arfa, totalmente sem fôlego, quando ela sai de cima de você para que absorva um pouco de ar.

— ouviu?! — brada irritadinha.

e puta merda, se aquilo não era a coisa mais excitante que ela já fez.

— ouvi, amor, ouvi!!! — choraminga chorosa, encarando ela com tanto desespero que parecia até que ia morrer se ning não te deixasse chupar ela logo.

— promete que vai ficar paradinha então. — a voz caprichosa exige.

— prometo, nini. — acena desesperadamente, dando tudo de si para ser obediente.

ela ameaça sair de cima de você e sua mente se desespera, — não, não, não- —, sua namorada dá um tapinha na sua coxa, impaciente.

— só vou trocar de posição, sua desesperada.

sua bochechas queimam de vergonha e você morde os lábios irritadinha, “e como eu ia saber?!” rebate mal-humorada, com um bico gigantesco.

mas nesse meio tempo ning já havia se sentado bem nos seus peitinhos, se abrindo todinha para você, — e aí sua bravata cai de vez.

— se ficar bravinha não ganha a recompensa. — o tom cantado deixa óbvio que ela está debochando, ativamente, da sua cara. te tratando como um filhotinho carente, um serzinho primitivo.

mas não consegue nem fingir que se ofendeu.

— não tô bravinha, amor. — seu tom é mansinho, mansinho, e sua namorada quase ri ao constatar que você é a personificação daquele meme: “tudo por buceta”.

— não tá? — sua cabeça nega imediatamente. — vem me chupar gostosinho então, vida.

um suspiro trêmulo deixa seus lábios, tamanho era o seu desejo.

— vai deixar sem ficar provocando? — não resiste e choraminga, só pra ver os olhinhos da namorada brilharem com teu charminho.

— vou, linda.

ela se aproxima e deixa a intimidade rente ao seu rosto. você mal perde tempo e cai de boca novamente, já sentindo saudades desde os pouco mais de 5 minutos que passou sem ela na sua língua.

— hmmmm, cacete, — os ruidinhos libidinosos saem automaticamente — que delícia. — ning te observa com os olhos semicerrados, divertida ao ver como você se perde na sensação, de olhinhos fechados e tudo, como se saboreasse cada gotinha.

o corpinho dela treme, indicando que não vai demorar muito, e no mesmo instante ela ouve um gemidinho dengoso abafado.

ela nota que, sem perceber, fincou os dedos no seu cabelo, mantendo seu rosto totalmente enterrado no meio das pernas dela.

nem se você quisesse — e você não quer — conseguiria sair do aperto doloroso.

a pélvis ondula com experiência, encontrando o ritmo que você estabeleceu nas suas lambidas, com a habilidade de uma mulher desesperada para sujar o rosto da namorada ainda mais.

— que buceta… ahhh- gostosa — você desliza dois dedos dentro dela no último segundo, sabendo bem como a sensação fica mais intensa quando você mete quando ela já está toda molinha.

os barulhinhos molhados do vai e vem te enlouquecem, mal consegue pensar em nada além de esfregar a língua no clitóris abusado.

fecha os olhos novamente — curvando os dedos no canalzinho com brutalidade, do jeitinho que sabe que nini gosta — e esfrega o rosto nela, igual um filhotinho buscando por atenção, fazendo de tudo para sentir ela em toda parte.

sequer vê as perninhas tremerem ou registra o próprio pulso doendo, só continua sugando o botãozinho com a boquinha aberta, fazendo um rio de saliva e lubrificação escorrerem até o cuzinho da sua mulher.

— ahhh- vou gozar, não para, não para.

os gritinhos ficam histéricos e as pernas se prendem uma de cada lado da sua cabeça, te pressionando contra o núcleo latejante e sufocando você com fervor.

sua respiração fica trêmula, sem realmente conseguir chegar até os seus pulmões.

sua cabeça fica toda enevoada, como se tivesse sofrido uma pancada muito forte, sente como se o corpo nem estivesse funcionando mais.

só é tirado do torpor quando a morena finalmente goza, o squirting molhando sua cara interinha.

você quase engasga — ainda sem fôlego, tossindo devido aos minutinhos se esforçando para não morrer sufocada, — mas abre a boquinha para engolir tudinho, cada resquício do esguicho que caía sobre você, sentindo a garganta doer, o cabelo grudar na testa e os cílios ficarem úmidos, turvando sua visão e seus pensamentos.

quando finalmente acaba, sua namorada cai para trás, amolecida igual uma jujubinha derretida.

você, ao ver as dobrinhas inchadas, vermelhinhas de tanto serem abusadas, e tão encharcadas quanto antes, não se contenta.

ainda não satisfeita, desce a boca para sugar a carne farta da buceta novamente — usando as duas mãos para segurar as coxas abertas, sabendo que, com a sensibilidade, o corpo suadinho deitado sobre você relutaria.

sem esperar mais, lambe uma faixa do buraquinho até o pontinho, orquestrando um miadinho tão obsceno que parecia até que era você que estava sendo chupada.

um lamuriar abandona os lábios de ning e você manha ao sentir ela tentar se afastar.

— n-nã..o.

sua namorada pede, toda acabadinha, sem sequer conseguir sequer erguer as mãos para te empurrar para longe.

— só mais um pouquinho, por favor, por favor. — implora dengosa, seu tom choroso fazendo parzinho com o da mulher.

— n-não ag-aguento mais.

— por favor, não me nega sua bucetinha não. — implora com desespero, disposta a fazer o que quer que fosse para mamar o dia inteiro

dá alguns beijinhos molhados nas dobras sensíveis, bem devagarzinho, sem pressa, e deixa um selar de bocar aberta, bem em cima do clitóris gordinho, sentindo o corpo da namorada estremecer violentamente.

— por favor, só mais um pouquinho. —, resolve dar lambidinhas de gatinho, ao passo que leva dois dedos para abrir os lábios para facilitar o acesso da língua — hmmmmm, tão gostosa. — aumenta a cadência sem sequer perceber, soltando lamúrias carentes, — por favor, vai.

para qualquer um que ouvisse seus barulhinhos, soava como se você devorasse uma comida extremamente gostosa.

— tô pedindo direitinho.

ning sente a lubrificação vazar mais ainda ao ouvir o jeitinho que você implora, à beira da agonia, como se estivesse há um passo bem pequenino de chorar.

sinceramente, você nem consegue racionar pelo que ainda está exigindo, mas continua repetindo mesmo assim.

o corpo sobre o seu tremelica novamente, sucumbindo a sensibilidade, mas você está fisicamente e mentalmente impossibilitada de parar, tão perdidinha no gostinho viciante na língua que tudo que consegue fazer é gemer entre cada chupada.

não se preocupa com a nuca dolorida, com a aparência tenebrosa e nem com o cansaço que ameaçava te fazer tombar para trás.

esfrega um dedinho na entradinha judiada, observando como ela tentar te sugar para dentro, — gostosa, vou te comer a noite toda hoje.

a bucetinha dela arde em antecedência, sabendo bem que você iria.

Yunho was standing by his locker when you walked into school that morning. He watched as you opened your locker which was close to his own and took out your books. The look on his face wasn’t his usual scowl of annoyance that everybody in school knows and fears. Instead his eyes softened when he saw you and he could feel the tips of his ears turn red.

San was watching him and knew immediately who showed up by Yunho’s reaction. It had been like this since freshman year. He had to suppress a snicker at Yunho’s lovesick expression. He had always found it hilarious. The school’s bad boy who regularly got into fights, skipped class (except the ones he had with you, of course) and had gotten his first tattoo with 16 was hopelessly in love with a sweet innocent nerd. The best part? You had no clue.

Yunho was snapped out of his thoughts when San nudged his shoulder

“When are you going to stop staring at Y/N and simply talk to her?” San asked him.

Yunho rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you’ve been staring at her like a hopeless fool since freshman year and now it’s our senior year and you have not once asked her out,” San chuckled.

“Shut up,” Yunho grumbled and slammed his locker shut. He knew San was right. But you were… intimidating. He realized how that sounded coming from him but it wasn’t just how pretty you were and how you didn’t seem to be scared of him, it was also just something about you. He knew everyone saw you as a sweet and innocent good girl because you got good grades and liked to dress in feminine clothes but he saw how you suppressed your smile when someone made a dirty or dark joke, he saw the kind of books you read when you thought no one would notice, he saw what music you listened to. And then there was the fact that you always smiled at him despite his reputation because you were so fucking polite. And what does he do? He chokes. Every time. Like a goddamn loser.

He watched as you closed your locker and prepared to go to class. Fuck it. It’s now or never.

Yunho walked over to you which surprised San who thought Yunho was going to creepily stare at you like he always does.

He reached you just when you started walking. “Hey.”

Great going, Yunho. That was the most lame greeting ever, he thought to himself.

You were just about to go to your first class when you heard someone talking to you. You looked up and saw Yunho standing in front of you. You had to look up quite a bit because of the height difference.

“Hey”, you greeted him back and wondered why he was talking to you. You didn’t think he even knew you existed.

He put his hands in his pocket, trying to seem relaxed. “What class do you have next?” he asked you. His tone was softer than his usual tone and he could feel the curious stares from the other students around you. Along with the usual downcast looks in case he snapped at them.

“I have English next,” you grab your bag, ready to walk to class.

He grabs your bag from you and puts it over his shoulder. “I’ll walk you,” he just states and starts walking with you to your class, ignoring your confused look and the hushed whispers around you as to why he was being nice to you.

You hurried along after him as he just started walking. You were incredibly confused why he suddenly talked to you and was now carrying your bag for you while walking you to class. You knew who Yunho was. He and his friends were the school’s bad boys which frankly you thought was a cliché title. But then again you lived in a smaller town and he does get into fights. It was maybe also the fact that he wore all black and always glared at people. Again, small town stuff. You honestly didn’t mind much. You had always found him attractive but you didn’t think he even knew your name. Both of you had different circles. He was always with his friends, smoking and you had even heard of them vandalizing stuff. Meanwhile you stuck to your two friends you had since freshman year, liked to stay inside and read and got good grades. The likelihood of him knowing you was small. So you thought.

He walked alongside you in the hallway and you noticed people moving out of your way while giving you curious stares. Great. You hated it when people stared at you.

You reached your classroom and he quickly moved to hold the door open for you. You gave him a confused look and walked into the classroom. Yunho put your bag down at your desk and you were so confused by his behavior you didn’t even question how he knew where you sat as he wasn’t in this class.

He turned to you and smiled. “I’ll pick you up at 7,” he states and walks off.

You nod before realizing what he said.

“Wait- what? For what? Yunho!” you called after him but he just waved and walked to his own classroom. You sat down at your desk, still confused what exactly just happened. You decided to brush it off and simply focus on class.

Meanwhile, Yunho was freaking out internally. He just did that. He finally had the courage to make a move on you, the girl he’s been crushing on since the first day of freshman year. He sat down in his own class, his heart still nearly beating out of his chest. San who sat beside him gave him a questioning look but Yunho simply gave him a grin.

During the day you started to forget about what Yunho said that morning, brushing it off as a joke. He had not talked to you after and you were sure he didn’t even know where you lived. You simply went home and changed out of your skirt into a pair of jeans to take your dog on a walk.

While you walked you passed your elderly neighbor.

“Oh Y/N dear, how are you, sweet girl? Such a sweet girl as always, taking your dog on a walk. And I heard you got a good grade on that exam. Your mother must be so proud,” she chirped.

You smiled at her, internally wishing you could just keep walking. It wasn’t that she was unpleasant but she, like everybody else, assumed that because you did well in school you were sweet and innocent. Sure, you were polite and you liked to study. But innocent is not a word you would use to describe yourself except for the fact that your real life sexual experience was limited. The only people who knew what kind of books you read were your two friends and they regularly blushed when you gave them a recap of a book you recently read. You also liked alternative things and clothes but you were too shy to actually wear it. Nevermind the fact that alternative clothes can be expensive. So you stuck to your skirts and dresses, which you also liked but you were dying to experiment more. Truthfully, you were scared to do so. You knew how people talked in a small town and you just wanted to get this senior year over with before you went to college.

When you got back home you had completely forgotten about Yunho and his comment so you went up to your room and did your homework while listening to some true crime podcast.

At 6:50pm, Yunho parked his car outside your house. He knew he was early but he was nervous. He had this whole date planned out and he didn’t want to fuck it up by being late. He walked up to your porch and rang your doorbell. While he waited, he smoothed down one of his nicer black shirts and ran a hand through his hair.

You opened the door and gave him a confused look. “Yunho? What are you doing here? And how do you know where I live?” you asked him.

“I told you I’d pick you up at 7. Are you ready to go?” he chuckled at your expression, ignoring the other question. So maybe he had followed you one or five times. Sue him.

“You were serious?” you asked him incredulously. You noticed he was dressed casual in black jeans and a black shirt but you could tell it was one of his nicer ones as this one didn’t have any car grease stains on it. Not that you knew what his shirts looked like.

“Of course I was serious. Why wouldn’t I be?” he grinned at you and took in your appearance. He loved seeing you in your casual jeans and sweater. The sweater paws you had nearly undid him.

“I didn’t think you even knew where I lived. And I’m not dressed for going out,” you looked down at your jeans.

He chuckled and waved you off, “nonsense, you’re dressed perfectly. Come on.”

Still confused, you put on shoes and grabbed your purse. He opened his passenger door for you and waited until you were buckled up before getting into the driver’s seat. He looked over at you while he started his car and the sight of you finally sitting in his car on the way to a date with him made him as giddy as it made him nervous.

While he drove his hand itched to reach over and grab your thigh but he had to remind himself that this is a first date.

“Where exactly are we going?” you questioned as you looked over at him, trying not to look at his veiny hand gripping the steering wheel.  

He just grinned at you, “It’s a surprise.”

You huffed slightly but let him continue. You weren’t the biggest fan of surprises, you liked being prepared for things but you were trying to let loose a bit.

Yunho parked the car and as you looked outside you could see the neon sign of the local bowling alley. Before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt, Yunho was out of the car and opened your door for you, holding his hand out for you.

You put your hand in his and Yunho’s skin tingles from the skin contact. He doesn’t let go of your hand as you walk inside, going to the front desk to pick out your shoes. You told the clerk your shoe size and after getting your shoes Yunho led you to a bowling lane, putting his hand on your lower back.

“Have you ever been bowling before?” he asked while he put your names into the computer.

“Uh.. like once or twice?” you replied while tying your shoes.

“That’s okay, I can teach you,” Yunho smiled at you and you were once again taken off guard by how sweet he was being.

He gave you a bowling ball, one he knew would be too heavy for you. He chuckled when he saw your arms buckle under the weight.

“Looks like I have to help you,” he teased you and came up behind you, his chest nearly pressing into your back while he helped you hold the ball. You stood in front of the lane, feeling his body heat as he towered over you from behind.

He leaned in to speak softly into your ear, “Focus on the pins and try to throw the ball as close to the middle as you can. Don’t worry about the speed for now.”

You tried to focus on what he was saying, you really did, but his low voice in your ear, his hands helping you hold the ball and the scent of his cologne made you a bit dizzy.

Yunho himself was not faring any better. He was using this as an excuse to touch you but he had not anticipated that it would feel so overwhelming to finally have you this close. He could smell your perfume and the realization that you were so much smaller than him sent his thoughts into a spiral.

Together you threw the ball and six out of the nine pins fell down. The fluttering in your stomach got stronger as you felt Yunho peck your cheek, chaste kiss on your now burning skin.

“Very good. Now you can throw again.”

He let you go for only a moment before he came back with another ball and put it in your hands. His hands didn’t let go of yours as he stepped closer to your back again and walked forwards with you. He leaned down to your ear and whispered instructions to you, which fell on deaf ears, his warm breath hitting your ear and neck nearly making you drop the ball. You managed to compose yourself long enough to throw the ball again with his help.

Two out of the remaining pins fell down and you felt your feet leave the ground as Yunho picked you up and spun you around, a soft giggle leaving your lips.

He reluctantly put you back down and you turned to face him, your flushed cheeks tugging at his heart.

Fuck, he was so whipped for you.

He could hear San’s laughter in his mind as the thought this.

His hands shifted from around your waist to your hips as he looked down at you.

“Seems like you’ll lose, Jeong,” you couldn’t help but tease him.

“Awfully cocky for a beginner, princess,” he smirked down at you. “You sure you wanna test that?”

“Well, you’d have to let me go to actually do your turn,” you quip.

He raised a brow at you and chuckled, “You think I can’t do that with you in my arms? Watch and learn, princess. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

He wrapped one arm around your waist, pressing you to his chest and dragged you along with him while he picked up a bowling ball and then walked forward to throw. Your arms wrapped around his waist so that you wouldn’t fall, your feet dragging over the floor.

“Hold tight, tiny,” he chuckled and leaned forward to throw the ball, tilting you back. All pins fell down and he laughed as he tilted you upright again. He smiled as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes flickering down to your lips for a second before going back to your eyes. The urge to kiss was almost too strong to resist but he knew he had to. He wanted to do this right and not rush it. But fuck, you were making it hard with your eyes staring up at him, your body still pressed to his, the lipgloss on your lips looking so sweet.

He took a step back, his hands shifting to your hips again. The thumping in your chest took a moment to calm down as you both continued the game, with Yunho winning, of course.

After you both finished your drinks and put your own shoes back on, he grabbed your hand in his and walked with you to the front desk to return the shoes. He couldn’t deny that he felt pride being seen with you, holding your hand in public. He had thought of this since freshman year, watching you from afar, always wondering if you’d ever go for someone like him. Now, three years later he was finally on a date with you and, not to toot his own horn, but it was going quite well.

He lead you outside and you both slowly walked to his car. Once you reached it, he used his grip on your hand to turn you to him. You looked up at him, unsure of what to do now. You hadn’t been on many dates but you really did want him to kiss you. Your tongue swept over your lips for a second, his eyes following the movement.

“Fuck, I can’t…” he muttered and you didn’t have any time to figure out what he meant by that when you felt his hand cup your cheek. He leaned down and kissed you. Softly at first, relishing in the soft gasp you let out. His lips moved over yours, his hand caressing your cheek. You gripped his shirt, needing to hold onto something so you wouldn’t do something embarrassing like stumble or squeak. His tongue swiped over your lips, asking for entrance.

He was right. Your lipgloss is the sweetest thing he ever tasted. At least until you opened your mouth and his tongue dove into your mouth. He grunted and pushed you against the side of his car, the hand that was on your cheek going up to tangle in your hair.

One of your hands moved up to his shoulder, holding onto him as you felt his tongue move against yours. You could still taste the soda on him that he had earlier and, shit, it was the best thing you ever tasted and you didn’t want this kiss to end.

He used the grip on your hair to tug your head back, biting slightly at your lip. The moan you let out reverberated in his head and he desperately wanted to hear more. He thanked heaven, hell and whatever the fuck was in between that the parking lot was deserted because there was no way he could hold back the growl that left him as he felt your hand on his nape, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss, slightly breathless, his eyes dark as he took in your flushed cheeks and swollen lips. That godforsaken lipgloss smeared.

“You know what this means, right? You’re my girl now,” he declared, his voice rough with barely held back desire.

You couldn’t deny that your thighs clenched at his words but you still said “No.”

His grip on your hair tightened.

“No?” he challenged.

“Ask me.”

You could tell he didn’t expect that. He looked genuinely confused at your statement.

“You declared you were picking me up for a date and I didn’t mind. But you need to ask me to be your girlfriend,” you tried to keep your voice steady. You actually didn’t mind his assertiveness but you still wanted to make him work for it.

You could see the shift in his eyes and how smile got a little bit darker, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Will you be my girlfriend, tiny?” he asked you, pressing closer to you.

“Yes,” you swallowed, this time not being able to keep your voice from breaking.

“Good girl.”

His lips crashed to yours again, pulling your hair and swallowing your moan. He pulled back before he could get carried away but your whine had him twitching in his jeans.

“I don’t wanna screw this up,” he admitted.

“Yunho,” you whispered.

“We don’t have to but, fuck, baby… can I taste you?” he asked and he was ready to beg if that’s what it took. Your small nod was all he needed to open the door to the backseat of his car and push you inside. He climbed over you, pulling the door closed.

His lips found yours again, your fingers tangling in his hair. His self-control was hanging by a thread at this point, finally having you under him, being able to call you his.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting this, wanting you…” he mumbled against your lips.

A small whimper escaped your lips and you pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders, running your hands along his shoulder blades. You felt him grab one of your thighs and wrap it around his waist. The bulge pressing against you felt bigger than you expected and had you clenching around nothing.

Could you…? No, fuck… not on the first date.

Yunho’s fingers slipped under your sweater, barely grazing your stomach. He felt your muscles twitch under his touch, making him chuckle against your lips. In one swift move he pulled your sweater up over your head and discarded it onto the floor of his car. His eyes found your breasts, covered by a black bra with a little bow in the middle. A little present just for him.

His focus shifted back to your face as he felt you grab at his arms. He leaned back down and began trailing kisses from your cheek to your jaw, all the way down to your neck. Your pulse was racing, matching his own. He felt like he could drown in the scent of your perfume if you let him. His teeth sank into the skin on your neck, where he made sure to leave a hickey. He wanted people to know the girl everyone believes to be so pure belonged to him, the guy who regularly got into fights.

“Yunho,” you whined into his shoulder.

“I know, princess,” he grunted into your ear. His fingers found the button of your jeans, slightly trembling with anticipation. Once he had opened your jeans, he looked up at you with a questioning look. You bit your lip and nodded.

“Use your words, tiny,” he demanded.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Louder.”

“Yes, Yunho,” you whined.

He smirked at the neediness in your voice and began to pull your jeans down your legs. He threw them to the front seat of his car, his hands grabbing the underside of your thighs and spreading your legs to make room for his shoulders.

You felt slightly embarrassed that your panties did not match your bra but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“Take your bra off for me,” he commanded, looking up at you from between your thighs and you couldn’t help but obey him.

His lips parted as your boobs were revealed to him. He leaned up, his mouth finding your nipple and gave it a flick with his tongue. You arched up into his mouth, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He growled and his hands fisting the waistband of your panties until you heard the rip of fabric. You looked down and saw him pocket the ruined panties, now completely bare before him. He shifted himself back down between your legs, both thrown over his shoulders.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” his voice was dark and heavy with desire. He ran a finger up your slit to your clit, a light teasing touch. He let out a moan and dove down to lick a stripe between your folds, closing his eyes at the taste. There was no way he could ever stop, no way he could ever let you go now. One of his hands held down your hips as you twitched underneath his ministrations.

One hand grabbed at his hair while the other flew up to hold onto the door of his car. You tried to keep your moans down but the feel of his tongue dipping into you made it impossible. Your thighs tightened around his head but it didn’t stop him, if anything it made him more eager to have you fall apart on his tongue. You looked down and saw his eyes looking up at you, watching your every reaction. He sucked at your clit and you pulled at his hair, making him moan into you, the vibrations of his voice making everything feel more intense. It had been a while since someone touched you and it was never this good so you could already tell you weren’t going to last long.

Yunho trailed one hand up to your breast, a finger rubbing softly over your nipple while his tongue alternated between flicking your clit and lapping at your entrance. Every whine and moan fueled his desire for you, wanting to record them so he could listen to them whenever he wanted. He could tell you were close when your thighs shook around his head. He focused his tongue on your clit and pressed a hand down on your stomach.

The pressure on your stomach and the relentless stimulation of your clit and nipple had you coming in seconds. Your fingers pulled at his hair while you moaned his name. Your thighs crushed his head but he didn’t let up. As overstimulation set in, your other hand also flew to his hair and you tried to push him away while you whined.

“Too much, please, Yunho, please…” you whimpered, words barely coherent.

He took pity and pulled his mouth off, licking his lips. His face shone with your juices and despite basically grinding on his face a minute ago you blushed.

He chuckled softly as he saw your flustered expression and slowly crawled up to your face, giving you a soft kiss on your lips. You could taste yourself on him and it made your stomach flutter in need again. He pulled away and you tried to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” he murmured softly while brushing your hair away from your face.

“Mhm,” you hummed, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. He continued running his fingers through your hair, covering your body with his to keep you from getting cold. He helped you put your bra and sweater back on when you stopped him.

“Wait, what about you?” you questioned, looking up at him.

“You think I’m gonna taste the girl of my dreams and not cum in my pants?” he replied, his voice rough. He saw your eyes drop down to the front of his jeans, your cheeks burning red.

“So don’t worry about me, tiny. I wanted to make you feel good,” he reassured you.

He helped you put your jeans back on, minus your panties that he ripped and stole. Once you had buttoned your jeans, you grabbed his nape and pulled him down to kiss him. He let out a surprised moan and pulled you closer. His lips left yours reluctantly.

“Yunho, we can’t! My parents will hear us!” your breath is already quickening due to his intensity. 

“Then I guess you better be a good girl and keep quiet while I satiate my hunger, hmm?” he whispers into the shell of your ear before nibbling the lobe, eliciting a small whimper from you. 

His enormous, veiny hands reach around to make quick work of the button and zipper of your pants, one of the final barriers between him and his second meal. He impatiently pulls down your jeans and panties in one smooth movement, tossing them aside carelessly..

“Stay nice and quiet, baby. You know I don’t like when my meals are interrupted,” his voice rough and dangerous, sending chills down your spine. 

He swipes two long digits between your folds, feeling how wet you are. “The thrill of being caught with my face buried in your pussy turning you on, my love?” You bow forward even further, a choked moan leaving your chest, as you give a small nod. 

He drops to his knees behind you and spreads you open, licking his heart shaped lips hungrily. He licks a purposeful path from your clit to your gushing hole, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest at the taste of you. “Fuck, you always taste so good.”

A small whimper rises from your throat at his deep voice vibrating against your folds. “You love this, don’t you baby?” Not waiting for a response, he plunges his tongue deep inside, making your toes curl.

“Mmm, fuck Yunho.” Your knuckles turn white from the death grip you have on the counter. 

As he continues tongue fucking you relentlessly, his expert fingers find your sensitive bundle of nerves, giving you just the right amount of friction to have your head spinning. The fire in your gut has started to simmer.

He unlatches from you for a moment, and you whine at the loss of his warm mouth. “Let me get a little more comfortable, my love.” He fully seats himself and rests his back against the cupboard, reacquainting his mouth with your pussy.

He tongues your clit, and slides two lithe fingers inside your clenching hole, curling them to hit your sweet spot. Your legs tremble under his ministrations, and you can feel his cocky smirk against your heat. 

You can’t help the filthy noises that are pouring out of you, and the lewd sounds from Yunho lapping at your pussy are only growing louder. Another curl of his practiced fingers has the fire in your gut roaring. 

“Yunho, please,” you beg, not exactly sure what for. You’re so close to cumming all over your boyfriend's pretty face. But there’s a sudden soft knock on the door. 

Your panicked face looks down at Yunho between your legs, his pace never faltering. He looks at you with hooded eyes, and quirks an eyebrow. 

“YN, is everything ok?” your mother asks.

Yunho abuses the spongy spot inside of you and pops off your clit to whisper “You better answer your mother, baby.” He returns to your cunt with renewed effort, attempting to make you cum all over his face with your mother on the other side of the door. 

You do your best to compose yourself enough to give your mother a convincing answer. “I-I’m f-f-fine. I just wasn’t f-f-feeling well, so Yunho came to t-take care of m-me!” Your voice coming out in breathy, choppy words. 

Yunho’s fingers quicken as your mother remains on the other side of the door. “He’s such a great boyfriend, isn’t he YN? Always takes good care of you. I know you’re in good hands.” 

Yeah, really great, giant, veiny hands, that are currently fucking you right towards the teetering edge of your release. 

“Yes, hes great! You can go, everything’s fine!” Your voice comes out high pitched, whiny, and strained. You were sure you weren’t very convincing, but there’s no further conversation.

At the same time you hear her footsteps begin to recede, Yunho gently nibbles your clit and presses hard once more against your sweet spot, and the fire engulfs you.

You cum hard all over his fingers and pretty face, legs giving out and vision blurring, chanting Yunho’s name like a spell, and Yunho lowers you onto his lap. 

“Mmm, you did so good my love,” he praises as he places tender kisses on your face and neck. 

“You could have given me a moment when my MOTHER was at the door!” You lightly smack his shoulder.

“Love, I told you I don’t like being interrupted during my meals, and I meant it. Maybe you should be a little quieter next time, hmm?” If you weren’t still trembling from the aftershocks, you would have wiped that little smirk right off his face.

“Oh, fuck you, Yunho!”

“I mean, right now? Because I’m pretty sure if your mother didn’t know what happened just now, if I fuck you, she certainly will. You make such pretty noises with my dick buried inside you. And I’d want to hear every last one of them.”

“Jesus Christ, Yu. No, not right now.” You snuggle into his neck, trying to hide your heated face, full of embarrassment. “But let’s make ourselves decent, because we’re going to say goodbye to my parents, and you’re taking me home to finish what you started.”