half plastic

“then tell me how i can make it up to you,” he says, eyes not leaving yours as he watches you through the mirror.

“but i don't think you can give it to me.”

junmyeon scoffs, standing up straight. “there's hardly anything in this world i can't give you, love. tell me what you want and it's yours. bags? new shoes? that lego set you wanted to build with me over the weekend?”

there's a mischievous smile on your lips as you step closer to him, something hidden in your palm that's covered by his long-sleeved shirt that you're wearing.

“you think you can buy your way out of this, mr. kim?”

“you don't want something material? is that it? i'll take a day off for you tomorrow. we can go wherever you want. do whatever you want.”

“tempting, but no. i had something else in mind,” you say, circling your arms around him. junmyeon turns around to face you. he's reading your eyes, trying to figure out what you're getting at.

“want me to take the day off today?” he asks, watching your finger hook into the collar of his shirt as you tug him down to give him a kiss. he groans when you pull away too fast.

“no, i need you to go to work. preferably with something that'll give everyone a reminder of who you really belong to.”

junmyeon sighs, letting you undo the top few buttons of his shirt.

yesterday had been a night out at your usual bar. there had been one patron in particular who'd probably had a little too much to drink, evidenced by how she kept trying to flirt with him even though you were right by his side. junmyeon knows he would never have let anything escalate, but he can also understand how annoying it would have been for you to witness.

“don't leave marks anyone can see, please,” he requests, but it's not like you'll listen. he'd once had to show up to a meeting in a high turtleneck in the middle of summer, because of how passionate you'd been. luckily, no one had questioned his fashion choices. everyone respected the ceo too much to care about things like that.

he didn't mind, either.

“don't worry, myeon,” you say, finally showing him what you've been hiding all along—a tube of your favourite lipstick, junmyeon's favourite shade on you.

a happy laugh escapes him as you begin applying it. “this is what you wanted from me?”

“is it too much?”

“there'll be no one happier than me to let you have your way, love,” he says, watching you press a kiss to his collarbone. “satisfied?”

“i've just begun, baby,” you say, leaning in to leave another imprint of your lips on his skin. then another. then another. junmyeon lets you do with him as you please. he's getting late, but this is very much worth it.

“Fuck.” Jiho swears when he sees his graded exam with a bright red 47 on it.  

He passes you and glances back curiously. He rolls his eyes when he sees the green 93 on yours. 

“Fucking nerd.” He mutters lowly to himself. He sighs when he reunites with his friends at their seats. “What’d you guys get?” 

Hyoseob shows his 74 and Kyungsoo his 72.  

“You guys did so well. The fuck?” Jiho swears, stealing their papers to compare answers.  

“Not well enough. I can’t let my GPA sink any further than it already has.” Kyungsoo leans back, bored. He studied his ass off for this exam. A 72 wasn’t going to cut it. 

“You see her?” Jiho nudges his head in your direction. Kyungsoo follows his line of vision and sees you. You have your hair up in a messy bun, tortoise framed glasses and a Batman shirt that looked a bit too big for you.  

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo doesn’t steer away from looking at you. You were chewing on the end of your pen. A dinosaur pen.  

“She got a 93.” Jiho says with pure malice.  

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen in surprise, but not really. You looked smart. Kyungsoo studies you a bit longer, watching you frown profusely at your paper. Surely you weren’t anxious about your grade. You were staring down your paper like it had personally offended you. He chuckles to himself. It’s somewhat admirable to see you stress over a 93. 

“I swear, people like her have it so easy. So painfully awkward and weird they don’t have a social life to distract them.” Jiho spews out unsolicited insults. Kyungsoo’s used to it at this point. His friend has never been the one to shut up, even when he has something awful to say. 

“She’s kinda cute.” His head tilts when you push your glasses up the bridge of your nose with the chewed up dino pen. There was a weird charm to you that prevented Kyungsoo from looking away. You type something on your laptop and reveal your Jurassic Park wallpaper. Kyungsoo chuckles to himself.  

“You think every girl is cute. But I promise you. There is no getting through to this one. I bet she won’t even notice you’re flirting with her if you tried.” Jiho says as if he was challenging his friend.  

“I don’t think you’re giving Kyungsoo enough credit.” Hyoseob chimes in. “If he can bag that shy library girl, I’m willing to bet a hundred he can hook up with miss dino over there.” 

Kyungsoo can’t help but chuckle at his friend. Hyoseob hadn’t returned a book in time and instead of paying the fee, he sent Kyungsoo to return the book for him, knowing how charming his friend could be. Kyungsoo didn’t mind. Mina was pretty and he liked pretty girls. 

“Alright, a hundred if he manages to do it before the semester ends. What do you say Kyungsoo?” Jiho’s criminally obnoxious smirk appears on his face.  

“What am I getting exactly?”  

“Our two hundred bucks if you can pull it off.” 

“Alright.” Kyungsoo shrugs.  

Easy money. 

-------- 

Class ends and Kyungsoo quickly gets up from his seat to catch up with you, papers and pen still in hand. He watches as you hide your highlighters and pens into your Jurassic World pencil case. A smile creeps up on his face unknowingly. Cute. 

He finally reaches you, backpack slung over his shoulder. You don’t notice him right away, grabbing your own backpack filled with superhero enamel pins. Both Marvel and DC. You didn’t discriminate. Kyungsoo has to clear his throat to get your attention. 

Your face lifts at the sound. Your eyes widen in surprise and confusion. Apprehensive, you check around you to make sure he was looking at you. 

“Hi!” Kyungsoo greets you first. “I loved Battinson.” 

He points at your shirt and you follow his finger, darting your eyes down at your chest. It makes you pull your backpack closer to you nervously. You’re cute and squirmy. Like a baby deer. You had the eyes for it too. 

“Ok?” You say back in a confused tone. You’re so wary, so cautious. Kyungsoo catches your eyes shift to the papers in his hand. And it’s as if something clicks in you that you’ve found the confidence to assert yourself. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t tutor.” You apologize as soon as you see his grade and continue to pack your bag once you’ve come to the conclusion that he was here to ask you for academic help. 

“What? No. I’m Kyungsoo.” He introduces himself with his most genuine smile. It’s as if there is no bet in place and he is purely interested in being your friend. 

It’s not as convincing as Kyungsoo thought. 

“Yeah, I know.” You get up and try to move around him.  

Kyungsoo’s taken aback. 

“Sorry?” He steps aside to stop you. Why were you being so difficult?  

He can’t hear them but he knows Jiho and Hyoseob are giggling behind him. 

“Nevermind. I can’t help you with whatever you need.” You say, avoiding eye contact with him – the false confidence evidently gone. He can see you a lot closer now. Your bun was being held by a batman hair tie, flyaways all around your head. Your skin was close to perfect. Your lips were a bit chapped, and he could tell you pick at them. You were rough around the edges but overall pretty. Kyungsoo likes pretty. 

“Wait, I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. I just thought you were pretty. And I was hoping we could be friends.” He apologizes, lowering his face to get you to look at him. He watches you hesitate, sucking in a cheek. He does his best to put on a nervous looking smile to get you to pity him. 

You release a big exhale, accepting defeat. 

“I’m Y/N.” You introduce yourself, eyes still darting behind him towards the exit. 

“Hi Y/N. It’s a pleasure meeting you.” He extends an arm out for you. 

You suck in your bottom lip nervously. You push your glasses up and rearrange the book in your arm to shake his hand.  

You take the deepest breath.  

“Likewise.”  

Kyungsoo’s smile widens. 

-------- 

If Kyungsoo knows anything about nerds, they love being ahead of everyone. 

Kyungsoo arrives for ASTRO101 half an hour early for class. As predicted, he smirks when he sees you there, already waiting on the floor to be let in, laptop sitting cozily on your thighs. He slides beside you effortlessly.  

“Hi, Y/N.” Kyungsoo laughs when you jump in surprise. 

“Kyungsoo, you scared me.” You have your hand on your chest to ease your racing heart. He doesn’t mean to but he glances down anyways to find you’re wearing a very fitting superman graphic tee with a loose white dress shirt on top.  

You can’t be real.  

“Sorry, that wasn’t my intention. Love what you’re wearing by the way. Very Clark Kent of you.” Kyungsoo says, pointing up and down your body. This makes you blush and has you stuttering like a mess. So you do know when you’re being flirted with. 

“What do you need Kyungsoo?” You manage to ask, your focus not budging from your work, though Kyungsoo can tell you’re still nervous. He’ll take it you’re a bit interested. 

“You know when you said you already knew who I was. What’d you mean?” He asks and you didn’t think he would bring that up by the surprise look on your face. 

“You’ve been to my house before.” You inform him as if that’s supposed to help Kyungsoo figure it out. If anything, he’s a lot more confused now. You sigh, seeing his puzzled expression. 

“My brother is Park Chanyeol.” 

Oh. 

Kyungsoo’s $200 flashes before his eyes.  

Though, he’ll never hear the end of it from Hyoseob and Jiho. 

“Chanyeol. Giant, party thrower, team captain of the basketball team Chanyeol and does jiu-jitsu as a hobby?” Kyungsoo asks, a little dumbfounded, his jaw slack.  

You scoff. “That’s the one.”  

“Huh.” Kyungsoo checks you one last time and it suddenly clicks how similar you two look. Although you’re not carbon copies, you definitely have similar features. It doesn’t explain how he doesn’t remember you though. 

“So we’ve... met... through him?” Kyungsoo asks carefully as not to offend you. 

It’s too late. You’re already grunting in frustration. Annoyed with him, you shut your laptop and pack it in your bag so you could get away from him. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Kyungsoo’s a lot quicker than you are though, anticipating your moves before you even know it. He reaches for your wrist and feels how soft your skin is. He lets go like it burns him. “I keep offending you. I’m really sorry. High school was a long time ago.” 

“We met last year.” The frown on your face is so cute like a kid pretending to be mad at him, but he gets the idea that you’ll crack with a simple smile. 

“Yeah, that’s a long time ago, sweetheart.” He does just that, smiling charmingly into your good graces. You do break as he predicted. It’s cute to see your lips purse in annoyance. Your face was betraying you, wanting to smile too. 

“You... asked me where the washroom was.” You mumble shyly because although he can’t hear your thoughts, without a doubt, now that you’re saying it out loud, it sounds ridiculous that he’d remember that. Kyungso doesn’t laugh at you. Instead, he holds a hand to his chest.  

“Please forgive me for ever forgetting such a beautiful encounter and of course, such a beautiful woman. I promise I won’t ever make that mistake again.” 

Kyungsoo crosses his heart comically, grinning ear to ear when he sees you purse your lips to an eventual smile. 

“I guess it is silly...” 

“Do you think we can start over and be friends?” He looks at you expectantly.  

He knows he has you exactly where he wants you when you nod shyly. 

-------- 

It takes a bit of convincing - what doesn’t when it comes to you, but Kyungsoo gets you to study with him. But I’m not tutoring you. You write your own notes. You had told him with a not-so threatening pointed finger.  

Your guard was very much up. You weren’t making it easy to get to know but at least you let him study with you. 

Kyungsoo sneaks glances at you when he pretends to study. He doesn’t understand the material. Studying you was far more entertaining. He was going to get ai to summarize it for him anyways. 

“So, we went to the same high school.” Kyungsoo breaks the silence to which you hum in response. “Crazy we never met... Other than that one time.” 

“Did you finish reading the chapter?” You don’t lift your face to look at him. 

“No.” 

“Why’d you ask me to study if you’re just going to talk?” You frown at him, spinning your pen around your fingers.  

“Because I want to be your friend.” Kyungsoo says simply, not breaking contact with you when you try to avoid his stare. 

“Why?” You ask for the nth time. Was it that hard to believe he would approach you? Yes, he was doing this for a bet, but that didn’t mean he didn’t find you pretty and interesting. 

“You seem fun. You dress up as superheroes and like dinosaurs. What’s not to be curious there?” It’s easy for Kyungsoo to find a reason because he’s not lying. You had that weird charm to you. 

“I was like this in high school too.” 

“And I was like this too. You didn’t approach me then either.” Kyungsoo argues. “I wanna get to know you now. Let me.” 

“It’s just hard to believe that you want to get to know me. You’re just so... popular.” You cringe at the word popular and Kyungsoo does too. He never liked being called that. It sounded so forced and awkward. 

“I just like making friends. Your brother is the same, you know.” Kyungsoo lightly pokes your side with a pencil.  

“Yeah, I know.” You say, a bit annoyed. Not really. There’s a small hint of a smile at the corner of your lips that you try to hide with a big sigh.  

“What’d I say this time?” He teases you. “Is it your brother? Do we not like your brother?” 

You laugh a bit too loudly for the library, earning a few stares from the other students trying to study. “No, I like Chanyeol. He’s a nice brother.” 

“Then why the long face?”  Kyungsoo taps your chin with the same pencil to your annoyance. He likes to see you get annoyed with me. It’s a nice change of pace from Jiho who ragebaits him for a living. 

“Nothin’, still in disbelief that you want to be my friend too.” You shrug and return to your textbook. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything, choosing to stay quiet. He lets you study a bit longer before bothering you half an hour later to get pizza. 

Because that’s what friends do. 

-------- 

Sometime between classes, studying with you and walking you home, Kyungsoo finds out you’ve never driven stick. 

“You want a Miata? You have to learn how to drive manual.” Kyungsoo throws you the keys to his car. You almost fumble them. He laughs at you. 

“But I don’t get it. Yeol has a TSX. He didn’t want to teach you?” Kyungsoo lets you get comfortable in the front seat while he waits for you with the door open. His smile grows when you grin and rub your hands across the wheel of his SI.  

“No, he says I drive recklessly.” You look up at him with a small, devious smile.  

Kyungsoo’s breath stops. 

Maybe it’s the way you bite your lip anticipating his lesson or maybe it’s the way you’ve fully let your guard down that makes his stomach flip.  

Seeing you smile cutely like this. In his direction…  

Nevermind that. He has to shake the image out of his mind.  

He bends down and points at the pedals. “This is the clutch. Make sure to release it slowly when you’re shifting. Act like the pedals are eggs, okay? Don’t hurry it.” 

He makes the mistake of looking up to see if you’re listening. He’s met with your face filled of curiosity - brows brought together in complete concentration. He’s suddenly made aware of how close he is to you. How you’re wearing a well-fitted Spider-man tee and denim capris. How you smell like vanilla. How you surprisingly have a fresh pedicure.  

He clears his throat and stands up.  

“I’ll, uh, show you the gears.” 

He shuts the door and runs his hand through his hair. He exhales and hopes you aren’t looking at him as he walks to the other side.  

“Nervous Do Kyungsoo?” You push your glasses up with the cheekiest smile on. 

Kyungsoo scoffs at how cocky you pretend to be in the driver’s seat of his car. But he learns that you’re actually nervous by the way you tuck your hair behind your ears. 

“Relax, we’re just driving around the lot.” He chuckles as he sits down. He explains how to shift the gears and you nod along. Kyungsoo has to force himself to focus when you purse your lips and keep pushing those damn glasses up. Can’t you get them adjusted? 

“K, think I got it.” That’s the last warning you give before you start driving. 

Kyungsoo barely has his seatbelt on, panicking over nothing when he realizes you’re… not stalling? 

“The fuck?” Kyungsoo laughs at how ridiculously easily you catch on. It seems you’re as gifted driving as you are academically. You shift so seamlessly. “Let’s go on the main road.” 

“What?!” You try to look at him but he quickly pushes your cheek to focus on the parking lot. 

“Yeah, yeah! Let’s get some ice cream. You can do it.” He leans over and takes the wheel to gently turn the wheel in the direction of the main road.  

“You’re crazy.” You laugh nervously but Kyungsoo has full confidence in you. 

“I trust you. Come on, let’s go.” Kyungsoo says with the widest smile. 

“Stay in this lane.” Kyungsoo sees how tightly you’re gripping the stick, knuckles slowly turning paler. His first instinct is to place his hand on yours. He feels you soften under his touch. 

“Relax.” He reassures you, helping you shift the gears. “You’re doing really good. Are you sure you didn’t secretly take Yeol’s car for a joy ride?” 

He tries to make you laugh to break the tension in your body. You chuckle a bit solemnly to yourself.  

“No, but I did play a lot of racing games at the arcade.” You say, never once leaving your focus off the road. Only shifting your eyes to check your blind spots. 

“Oh, like on dates?”  

“Uh… Not exactly. I used to play there a lot on my own. When our parents would be gone on business trips and Chanyeol threw parties, I would go often.” You reveal a bit too casually.  

“With friends?” Kyungsoo regrets his question the second he sees you wince. 

“By myself.” 

He knew you weren’t from the coolest of crowds. He didn’t realize you didn’t have friends either. His gaze softens looking at you. 

He imagines you in the same Spider-man shirt but it’s a lot looser, your hair was probably in the same ponytail and you probably sported a lot nerdier glasses. He imagines a lonely you leaving your own home to find solace at the arcade. It pains his heart to imagine how lonely you must have been. 

“Please don’t look at me like that.” You must have caught a glimpse of the solemn look on his face.  

He can’t shake the image of a sweet and geeky you playing racing games on your own.  

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m some stray cat. I’m okay. And it’s not Chanyeol’s fault either. He’s just a lot different than I am. He tried to keep me home where he could watch me, but sometimes I just couldn’t… Not with those… people.” 

He squeezes your hand comfortingly. His heart warms up when he sees a smile seep onto your face. 

“I’m sorry you went through that. I wish I had known you then.” Kyungsoo’s face saddens once again. This time, out of guilt. It never occurred to him other people were going through a much different high school experience than he did. 

“Me too.” You say, creating a pregnant silence. 

“Turn here.” Kyungsoo points at the rundown ice cream shop, disturbing the moment. 

You park with ease. In reverse too.  

You’re just full of surprises for Kyungsoo.  

“It’s really okay, Kyungsoo. I know it’s sad I didn’t have any friends growing up but I did have Chanyeol when it did count. He took care of me the best way he could. I promise my life isn’t as sad as it sounds.” It’s your turn to reassure him because clearly, he was taking it a lot harder than you were.  

“You’re paying and driving back by the way.” Your tone is lighthearted again. Then you flash him a little smile. 

“Of course.” He follows right behind you, unable to hide the silly grin appearing on his face. 

-------- 

Kyungsoo finds himself texting you nonstop, arguing with you on whether or not Iron Man really was the only one who could’ve done the snap. He completely forgets that Jiho is next to him on the couch waiting for him to finish texting so they could proceed to play the next round. 

Jiho’s jaw tightens in annoyance when Kyungsoo has the audacity to chuckle to himself. He wants to wipe off that shit-eating grin off his face. 

“She cannot be that funny.” Jiho has a bored look on his face. 

Kyungsoo barely looks up from his phone, typing the rest of his text and pressing send. 

“Sorry.” He apologizes, picking up the controller as if Jiho didn’t just wait 15 minutes for him to be ready.  

Jiho doesn’t take the apology lightly.  

“This is like the third time she’s texting. What’s with her? It’s been a month. Why are you guys still hanging out? Are you having trouble sleeping with her?” 

“So many questions.” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow at his friend who looks annoyed. Jiho was never one to be patient. Kyungsoo knows this. He grew up with Jiho. Yet, he has no clue why he’s being so rude right now. “She’s actually really sweet and funny. I want you guys to meet her.” 

Jiho stares at him, analyzing his friend who is so smitten by a seemingly ordinary girl with a weird obsession with dinosaurs. 

“What is this? Are you falling for her?” He narrows his eyes at him. “She’s a bet.” 

“She’s not a bet. I don’t care about the bet anymore. It was stupid.” Kyungsoo sighs and rolls his eyes. It stopped being a bet the second you let him in your life and became his actual friend. It was no longer a game when he found himself genuinely having fun hanging out with you. He looked forward to watching random youtube videos in a parking lot with you while you munched on fries. Sure, he’d have to convince you to drive his car, but he always paid for the snacks.  

He didn’t know when it happened. The tiny crush he had on you. He figures it was around the same time he started looking forward to the astronomy study sessions with you. Kyungsoo hates astronomy. 

Somehow and someway you had claimed a spot in his heart. 

“She doesn’t find it weird that you randomly came up to her one day?” Jiho asks, putting the controller down, finding this new turn of events interesting. He never pegged Kyungsoo the type to get with a geek. He was always around cheerleaders, prom queens, conventionally women. “What are you gonna do when she finds out?” 

“She’s not going to find out.” Kyungsoo frowns. “Why do you care so much?” 

“I care about my friend making the mistake of dating a geek like her. She’s a lost cause. Won’t even know you’re into her.” Jiho’s tone is a lot more vicious and spiteful than anything Kyungsoo has ever heard before.  

It does not sit well with Kyungsoo.  

“What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s a human being with actual feelings and interests. This isn’t high school anymore. Stop being so weird about this. The bet was stupid and juvenile and she’s never going to find out about it.”  

Sometime between the fit of rage, Kyungsoo had gotten up and is now looking down at Jiho with a pure look of disgust. Jiho stares up in disbelief that his friend would defend a girl like you this hard. It’s rare to get him speechless like this because Kyungsoo has never yelled at him. Never in their decade long friendship. 

Kyungsoo sighs, he could stay mad at him all day but he’s been friends with Jiho for as long as he can remember. He hates it when they fight. On the rare occasion that they do, Kyungsoo always forgives Jiho. 

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve been distracted but she really is a nice girl. I’ll bring her to the pub next Saturday night and you guys could meet her. Okay?” His voice softens for his longtime friend who’s doing his best to stand his ground.  

But Jiho breaks too, finding it hard to stay mad at Kyungsoo. He agrees to meet you reluctantly. 

Jiho was curious now. He wanted to see what magic you were pulling to get his best friend so smitten and protective over you. 

-------- 

The next day Kyungsoo finds himself studying for the midterm with you in your family’s dining room. Your parents weren’t home for yet another business trip and Chanyeol’s whereabouts were unknown to him. He was alone in a house with you. And for the first time, he was feeling nervous to be alone with a woman. 

“Do you need some water?” You ask, concerned. He must not be acting as calm as he thought he was. Or maybe you were just being a considerate host. 

“Yes, please.” Kyungsoo smiles when you get up to get him a glass. 

“Thank you.” He says as you place it down for him. It’s new to him. The racing of his heart. He’s here to study, yet he can’t even think to read his textbook, distracted by you and your crooked glasses on your head. 

“You’re very welcome.” You beam, taking a seat right next to him to continue studying. He watches you plug in your right earphone, letting the other hang loose on the table. You still use wired earphones cause you swear it sounds better when you do. Kyungsoo rests the side of his head on his knuckles, elbow on the table, and just, looks at you.  

Who was he joking? He was never going to get any work done with you. Not when you left an ear open for him in case he has any questions.  

Studying you was distracting. He swears he can study your little quirks all day. 

Like how you use your glasses as a headband when you really want to force yourself to read the material. Or the fact that you’re literally swimming in a broken and oversized Miles Morales shirt, revealing the frustrating fact that your bra strap keeps falling off your shoulder. 

“Kyungsoo, did you get this part?” You point at a page in the textbook. It’s really sweet of you to think that he would understand a concept far better than you do but he tries anyway. He pulls the book closer to him and reads the excerpt for the first time. He reads it over and over again, actually. His frown deepens and he wonders if you think he’s an idiot by how long it’s taking him to understand. 

It’s all gibberish to him. Why would you ask him if he understood -   

It takes a second to register what just happened. His head is still resting on his hand. Your eyes are wide and hands are covering your mouth in complete shock with yourself. 

“Sorry!! I- You just- Your lips were-” You stutter after giving him the world’s record quickest peck on the lips.  

“Did you want to try that again?” Kyungsoo asks, watching your throat swallow nervously. Then you nod. You lean closer with a little more confidence this time, flickering your eyes to his for confirmation. He nods, giving you the go-ahead.  

Your lips softly press onto his and he lets you move your mouth the way you’re comfortable with. He doesn’t rush it, wanting to feel your lips massage his for as long as he can. You surprisingly swipe your tongue against his bottom lip, making Kyungsoo moan slightly and finally drop his arm on the table. He uses the other to cup the nape of your neck, deepening the kiss.  

His body leans closer into yours, feeling your body against his. He can smell the vanilla on your skin, making him groan against your lips. It was driving him insane. 

“Do you want to go upstairs?” You ask breathily, lips tickling his as he chases after them. They were already tingling at the loss of you. 

Kyungsoo almost instantly caves when he looks at your now swollen lips and crooked glasses on your head. He’s never seen you in like this before: wanting him. And God, did he want you too. 

But he wants to do this right. You deserve to have this done right. 

“I want to.” Kyungsoo says a bit reluctantly. 

“But?” You sense his hesitation. It’s absolutely killing him the way you look disappointed and hurt.  

“But I want to take you out on a date first. A proper one.” He explains, hoping this makes that look disappear. 

“A date?” You frown like you’ve never heard that word before. 

“Yeah, a date.” Kyungsoo affirms. 

“I’ve never been on a date before.” You say, more to yourself, like you’re trying to convince yourself that this was happening. “With me?” 

“Yes, with you. Will you go on a date with me?” Kyungsoo laughs at your pure innocence. God, you’re so good, so nice, so everything to him. 

“Okay.” 

The stars don’t shine; they burn. Yet here you were, with your smile shining brightly at him. 

-------- 

The date starts off strong with Kyungsoo coming up to your door with a bouquet of yellow flowers wrapped in black paper.  

He’s about to knock on your door when you open it almost instantly. You look shocked like you weren’t expecting him. 

Kyungsoo’s jaw drops at the sight of you. 

You had a leather jacket on with a tank top and a midi skirt. Your hair was down with your hair pushed back by a headband. You had curled your ends. Your glasses were a metal frame instead of the tortoise ones he was used to.  

You were painfully and beautifully you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here. I don’t think I got a text?” You check your phone, expression a bit worried. Kyungsoo has to place a hand on your shoulder to calm you down. 

“Relax. I was going to come to your door like a gentleman. These are for you.” He extends an arm out for you. That’s when you finally notice the bouquet and blank.  

You stare at him then back at the flowers.  

“I- You didn’t have to.” You say timidly, smiling at the flowers so preciously. Kyungsoo would give you another bouquet for a chance to see that smile on your face again.  

“I wanted to.” 

“Yellow and black for Batman?” You bite your lip and give him a kiss on the cheek, making Kyungsoo blush. “I love them. Thank you.” 

You quickly place the flowers inside your home. 

“Okay, I’m ready.” You tuck your hair behind your ear. Kyungsoo chuckles at your excitement before taking your hand to escort you to his car.  

He only lets go to open the door to your surprise. You look uncomfortable as if no one has ever done this for you before.  

“You really don’t have to.” 

“It’s your first date. I want it to be memorable.” 

You blush, quickly sitting down to hide your face behind the door but Kyungsoo catches it nonetheless. 

The first spot he brings you to is a trendy brunch spot in the city where he learns that you are a bottomless pit and you can eat three pancakes on your own within 15 minutes. He then surprises you with a trip to a thrift store with an extensive comic book section where you browsed the endless piles, going through the comics one by one.  

He had checked on reddit for recommendations and found this store. He’s happy to see that he made the right call and brought you here instead of an actual comic book store. He almost laughs aloud at how concentrated you look. He loves seeing your brows furrowed. He rarely gets to see your hair down so watching strands fall down your face sent Kyungsoo’s heart fluttering. You just looked so effortlessly pretty. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t really read comics but he browses all the same, showing you every cool cover he sees.  

“This one’s cool. Doc Ock Wins?” Kyungsoo pulls out the comic to show you and is taken aback when your eyes widen in surprise. You rush to his side immediately. Your vanilla perfume hits his nose and he melts. His hand unconsciously settles on your hip while you grab the comic from his hold.  

Kyungsoo’s head tilts as you examine the colourful paper. He chuckles when a cheeky grin appears like you’re an evil mastermind about to unveil your super evil plans. 

“What? Is it valuable?” He laughs, hand rubbing up and down your side. 

You push your glasses up in the nerdy way Kyungsoo loves so much.  

“This is a 1967 issue in near mint condition. You can get this appraised and it could go for hundreds. And you just picked it out of the hundreds of comics here.” You explain, handing it back to him. “It’s a really good find.” 

“Oh shit.” Kyungsoo looks down at the comic in his hands. It didn’t seem fair to find such a gem as someone who didn’t appreciate them the way you did. “I’ll get it for you.” 

“What? No, you keep it. You found it. It’ll be a good investment. I can show you reputable grading companies if you’d like.” You shake your head, pushing it back to his chest.  

“We came here for you. This is yours.” He tries to sway you, pulling you in closer by the waist. “Take it.” 

You purse your lips, trying to stop yourself from showing how happy he just made you.  

“Are you sure?”  

“Seeing you smile like this, why wouldn’t I be sure?” His hand reaches your cheek, rubbing your thumb mindlessly.  

You beam, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down for a quick kiss.  

“Thank you, Kyungsoo.” You look up at him with glossy eyes. “For always being so nice to me.” 

Kyungsoo’s melts at the sound of your small voice. It makes him sad to think not everyone has been kind to you the way you deserved. You were often overlooked, even by him. He was seeing you now. He won’t make that same mistake again. 

-------- 

“It’ll just be a sec! I want my friends to meet you!” Kyungsoo says excitedly as if he was trying to convince you to be excited with him. But you couldn’t share that sentiment with him. You knew the kind of people he hung out with. And Kyungsoo knew that too.  

Just how he did with you, he wanted you to give them a second chance to get to know them. 

And just like the sweetheart you are, you comply, holding his hand tightly and holding your breath as you walk into the pub. 

You come to a halt when you see the familiar faces from high school.  

“They’re not as scary as they look. And if they do say anything weird, I’ll be there, okay?” Kyungsoo rubs his thumb on your hand. He hopes it’s enough to reassure you. He really wants to show his friends that you were sweet and funny. You weren’t just that weird girl in class who was weirdly obsessed with dinosaurs and superheroes. That you were the girl he was slowly falling for. 

“Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my friends Hyoseob and Jiho.” Kyungsoo’s hand is rubbing your lower back reassuringly. You introduce yourself perfectly in his eyes. Hyoseob shook your hand as the normal one of the two. Jiho, on the other hand, has some odd vendetta towards you and doesn’t reach to shake your hand, only nodding in your direction to acknowledge you.  

At least that was something. It was a start.  

“Did you guys order already?” You ask as you slide into the booth. You were trying to make conversation to Kyungsoo’s delight. He knew how nervous you were yet here you were, being considerate and polite for his sake.  

“We got some nachos for the table.” Hyoseob, fortunately, responds to you, reciprocating your politeness. “You’re welcome to share with us.” 

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer. Thank you, Hyoseob.” You smile, closing the menu and setting it on the table.  

“So how was the date? Kyungsoo wouldn’t stop talking about it all week.” Hyoseob continues. 

Kyungsoo smiles when you reply with excitement and a blush, excitingly showing them the new comic Kyungsoo got you. He knew he could count on Hyoseob to be friendly. The two of you continued to bounce off each other, quickly getting comfortable enough to joke around with each other.  

Jiho was on the quieter side. Nothing Kyungsoo wasn’t used to. It took his multi-layered friend time to get to know. 

It didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. 

“Did you ever finish that build?” Jiho randomly asks when there was a pause between you and Hyoseob’s conversation. Kyungsoo has no idea what he’s referring to. 

“Build?” Kyungsoo turns to you for explanation. You don’t seem fazed by it. 

“I did! I didn’t think you’d remember me.” You reveal a bit more, leaving Kyungsoo a lot more confused. Jiho always held some weird resentment towards you. He thought that stemmed from some deep insecurity of his to hate on people smarter than him. Maybe he was wrong. “I used to go to Jiho’s dad’s shop a lot to get the parts for my computer. They always had good discounts.” 

Well, that’s news to Kyungsoo. Having you surprise him was nothing special. Having you know Jiho even back in high school, that was news.  

“Oh, I didn’t know you guys knew each other back then too.” 

That’s when Kyungsoo feels you freeze beside him.  

“Uh, yeah. Jiho used to be really nice to me.” You share apprehensively as if you knew you were about to shift the mood. 

Jiho scoffs and takes a sip of his beer. The waiter brings the nachos to the table, interrupting the moment. Kyungsoo would probably have to ask you about this later to fill in the blanks.  

Whatever it is, you continue to be the pleasant person you’ve been since you got here. You tuck in your hair behind your ears. Kyungsoo sucks on his bottom lip, reaches for your hand, and squeezes it reassuringly. He hopes it’s enough to get through this night. He didn’t think you would have some weird history with Jiho. 

Something happened between you two in high school. Kyungsoo thinks you might have dated but that wouldn’t make sense. He knows of every girl Jiho has been with. Unless he was embarrassed to be with you. Maybe that’s what created the riff.  

Kyungsoo shakes his head. It didn’t add up. You seemed genuinely surprised to find out he remembered you. People who date don’t forget one another. 

“My dad really wanted to help you build an inexpensive pc.” Jiho suddenly mutters like he’s too embarrassed to admit it.  

“How is he? I hope he’s doing well. I really appreciate everything he did for me.” A small smile appears on your face, remembering Jiho’s father’s kindness. Then you turn to Kyungsoo with a glint in your eyes, excited to share a little glimpse of your teenage life. “He used to order parts he wouldn’t stock just so I can buy it from him.” 

He remembers how you were alone for a large part of your teenage life. They must have been the few who showed you grace and kindness. He wonders what went wrong that Jiho would feel comfortable badmouthing you. 

“He’s okay. He’s been threatening to retire soon.” Jiho, for the first time tonight, actually laughs and you giggle with him like this was some inside joke.  

“He’s always saying that.” You give Kyungsoo context, being the considerate person that you are.  

You don’t seem nervous anymore. He can tell by the way you lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder. He’s learning that every time you feel comfortable, you initiate contact. Kyungsoo smiles down at the image of how cozy you look under him. He can finally feel himself relax knowing you’re okay with his friends. 

The night goes on. Hyoseob and Jiho order another pint for the table, eventually getting to the point of sloppy, tipsy drunk. They try to get you to play darts with them, but they soon realize you’re a bit too coordinated and gifted in games. You win against them easily. Sometime in the night, they end up at the pool table for a 2v2 where you’re shooting all the solids for Kyungsoo. Jiho whines while Hyoseob cheers you on.  

Kyungsoo is at bliss knowing that you fit right in. 

“I’m gonna to the bathroom real quick.” Kyungsoo places a hand on your lower back to let you know. You smile at him, holding the cue upright, and reply with a short and sweet “okay”. 

The moment Kyungsoo enters the restrooms, he’s hit with an overwhelming feeling in his chest. He knew his friends would fall for her as hard as he did. He can’t remember the last time he introduced a girl to his friends and it going this smoothly.  

And Kyungsoo has introduced his friends to many women.  

He can’t contain the smile on his face. You’ve made him so happy this past month.  

He wants to bring you on so many other dates, bring you to all the places you never got the chance to visit as a teen. He wants to recreate memories with you and replace every single lonely one.  

Although you both come from very different childhoods, Kyungsoo finally feels that he’s met his match. Someone that will bring out the best in him even if he feels that he might not deserve you. He hopes he can do the same for you so you can show off that shiny bright personality of yours to the world. It deserves to get to know you too. 

Kyungsoo washes up quickly so he can be by your side as soon as possible. He walks out the doors with a stupid grin on his face. 

It slowly disappears when he notices how uncomfortable Hyoseob looks.  

“What’s wrong? Y/N beat you guys again?” Kyungsoo laughs lightheartedly.  

Hyoseob doesn’t answer, instead his eyes shift to Jiho. Kyungsoo frowns when Jiho avoids his stare. He follows Jiho’s line of vision to the door.  

He looks around. There’s a sudden drop in his stomach. 

“Where’s Y/N?”  

Jiho’s eyes flick to Kyungsoo’s by accident. He sees the guilt in his eyes. 

“What did you do?” Kyungsoo’s tone darkens, a lot graver and threatening.  

He grows angrier when Jiho stays silent.  

“I was gone for a minute. What did you do?” He asks one more time. 

“She was going to find out eventually.” Jiho mutters, barely reaching Kyungsoo’s ears to hear. But when it does, it’s loud. The volume of the chatter in the bar is becoming deafening.  

His breath hitches and that pit in his stomach grows tenfold. He can’t think about anything else but you. He grabs his keys and storms off. He can hear Hyoseob calling his name behind him. He doesn’t care. He can’t care when you’re out there thinking he lied to you. 

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” He chants to himself, hoping you’d pick up the phone, be the understanding person that you are, and hear him out. It’s to his surprise that you do. 

“Y/N? Where are you?” Kyungsoo tries not to sound too frantic. 

He hears you take a deep breath. 

“Don’t call. Don’t text. When you see me in class, don’t even look at me. Fuck you, Do Kyungsoo.” 

You hang up abruptly, not even giving a chance for Kyungsoo to speak. 

He tries calling again, phone shaking in his hold. 

The number you have dialed is unavailable. 

chananyeol bong: if anyone has a copy of that oilblotter drabble :') pls send it my way. i think it about it a lot 🤕❤️‍🩹💔 this will have a second part (and maybe third - i can only hate myself for this lol) this was started when i was being moody from my period and it was hard to finish cause i was in my usual sunshine and rainbows mood after lol

on this segment of memes that made me think of this story:

“Can you believe this is our baby’s first snow ever?” Your husband rasps excitedly. He giggles looking at you trying to dress your daughter up, getting her ready to go outside, and his dimples make an appearance as soon as he sees your daughter poking her little tongue out while you pull her small arms through the sleeves of her top. He can’t resist the amount of cuteness and, as soon as you’re done and you move to pick up her trousers, he bends over her to kiss her chubby cheeks. “You’re so excited about this, aren’t you, ttalgi?”

You snort while looking at the scene, waiting for him to be done with his cute aggression over your daughter, who giggles feeling the proximity of her daddy and all his kisses all over her face and hands.

“I’m starting to think you’re the one excited about this, Jae,” you joke, and he doesn’t mind you poking fun at him, because honestly there’s some truth to it. 

You take his looks in. He’s good and ready to go, all dressed up, the only things missing are his jacket, his beanie, and his shoes. The moment he woke up this morning and noticed it had snowed all night, seeing everything covered in white, he couldn’t stop grinning thinking about how he wanted to play in the snow with your daughter. 

So he got you out of bed for breakfast and then he urged you into getting ready before dressing your daughter up in warm clothes, so he could take her out to see the snow and play with it.

“Don’t listen to mommy, ttalgi,” he instructs, using his baby voice while he continues his ministrations of kisses, “We’re going to have so much fun together! Daddy will even buy you a sled!” 

“You liked playing in the snow as a kid, didn’t you?” You ask, grip tight around the small pair of trousers you’re waiting to put on your daughter. 

“It was my favourite time of the year!” His tone is excited, and he finally moves away, making way for you. “I know she’s going to love this,” he tells you, still keeping an eye on her as she kicks her feet excitedly. 

“Please, ttalgi,” you sigh, because this is a habit she picked up lately, kicking her feet and not letting you dress her up. Not only that, but she moves too much, ending up sweating, and that’s really not convenient as you prepare her to get out in the cold. “Jaehyun, make her stop,” you look at him, using your authoritarian tone with him. 

“How?” He feigns cluelessness, but he knows exactly what you mean and want him to do. 

“Kiss her again, she’ll stop kicking for a few seconds if she feels you on her,” you instruct, pointing at your baby as she keeps kicking her feet. 

He grins, dimples on full display, but he does as instructed nonetheless. He’d never pass on the occasion of smothering his little girl with kisses and cuddles. While he does as asked, smooching every available spot on her face, making her giggle, you try sneaking your hands between the two of them, grabbing her feet and pulling them through the trousers legs.

“Besides,” you start after accomplishing your mission, pulling the trousers up to her waist, “How do you know she’s going to love the snow?”

“She’s my daughter,” he gives you the simplest, most logical answer, “You always say she’s too much like me, so I know she’ll love the snow,”

And in all honesty, Jaehyun and your daughter are so much alike that it’s impossible not to notice the resemblance. Not only physical, but also emotional. She’s this small, adorable, eleven months old meatloaf, who inherited even her daddy’s full cheeks and dimples. And sometimes you feel like an outsider, like your genes never even tried to assert dominance while battling with his genes, like yours just gave up. Even as a baby, she’s stubborn, determined, unbothered, sometimes in her own little world just like Jaehyun is, and you can’t wait for her to grow up and discover her personality.

So you get her ready to go, and Jaehyun keeps her in his arms as you exit the house, dragging your feet on the white pavement as you make your way to the park just around the corner. It’s wide, all powdered up with crisp snow that crunches under your and your husband’s heavy steps.

“She seems uncertain of this,” you mumble, looking at her little frown as she looks at everything white around her. 

Jaehyun doesn’t even listen to you, too stubborn to show you that you’re wrong. Your daughter will love it today, and that’s it.

Except she doesn’t. He crouches down, with her still in his arms, and he places her on his leg, grabbing a handful of snow to bring up to her level in order to make her accustomed to the cold and wetness.

She trusts him, touching his hand but she retracts it back in a split second almost as if it burnt her, and she lets out a whine at the discomfort — the snow too cold and too wet for her delicate small hand.

Jaehyun looks at you, only to find you looking at him already, and you want to tease him, but he looks too disappointed, a sour scowl appearing on his face the moment your daughter starts crying.

“Look, ttalgi,” he tries, putting his big hand down in the snow to grab another handful and bring it up to her level, only for her to scream louder and to make grabby hands towards you.

Although you want to slam him with the classical I told you so, you refrain from doing so, knowing that he’s disappointed and he’s getting upset. Not because he’s upset with your daughter for not liking the snow, but because he was wrong and he thought he knew everything about your child. 

You pick your daughter up, patting her back trying to calm her down, and Jaehyun stands next to you, hands in his pockets as he waits for you to either roast him or start your nagging while using your mommy voice on him. 

“Jae, quickly, make a snowball,” you instruct, and he looks at you puzzled, but does as asked nonetheless.

The moment he hands it to you, you take a few steps back, throwing the snowball directly at his head, striking him in the face. 

“You were supposed to dodge it!” You let out an outraged gasp, and it takes you three second in total before you give in an let out a howl of laughter, you shoulders shaking, and you squeeze your daughter in your embrace as you try to recompose yourself.

Jaehyun is unmoving, still as a statue as he looks at you, snow still on his face. You’re sure he’s still processing what just happened, you can literally see gears turning in his head as he processes. 

“I’m so sorry, baby!” You coo at him, but you burst out laughing once again when you see he’s still unmoving, blinking slowly while looking at you.

“What just happened?” He rasps, his tone uncertain, like he’s making sure you just struck him directly in the face and he’s not dreaming.

Your daughter is not crying anymore, she stopped the moment she heard you howling with laughter, not understanding why mommy’s laughing while she’s the one crying her little lungs out. You trot towards your husband, snow’s now melting off his face with the help of his skin’s warmth, and you bring one hand up to get rid of the snow covering his nose and eyelashes.

“Hi, handsome,” you grin at him after all traces of snow are gone from his beautiful features, and he tries his best to give you a passive look, but one dimple makes an appearance, and you poke it immediately. “Have you always been this handsome?” You question him, seeing as your daughter makes grabby hands to be in his arms.

“Nuh-uh,” he’s quick with his response, “It’s the after snow glow,” 

His words make you rewind the whole scene in your mind, and you can’t control the laugh that escapes you once again, and you fall on the ground covered in snow. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t dodge it!” You’re amused, and he knows you’ll giggle about this for the rest of the month, “The world’s too quick for you, Jae,” You look at him from the ground, your back on the soft snow, and you start making snow angels just like you did when you were a child playing in the snow. “You took it like a champ, though,” Your tone is serious this time, and you raise an arm to express victory.

Jaehyun’s dimples are once again on display, and he looks down at you and your limbs moving in synchronised motions. Your cheeks and nose are full of colour, the cold biting them gently, and your eyes are still sparkling after he made a fool of himself. After you turned him into one. 

Yes, the world might be too quick for him, you’re always telling him this because he likes taking his time with everything he does, everything he says, and everything he thinks about. And you’re the only one allowed to tell him this, you’re the only one who can make him act a fool. 

When Jaehyun first met you, he thought you were untouchable and unreachable. Your carried yourself a certain way, you giggled sweetly whenever someone complimented you or made silly remarks to get a reaction out of you, and you also never bothered sparing boys a glance. You were unreachable in the real sense of the word, and Jaehyun thinks he saved three nations in his previous lives because you gave him a chance and he bagged you. 

He holds your daughter in his arms a little tighter, getting down on the ground, imitating you. Your daughter is now resting on his chest and stomach, pink snowsuit making her look like a total roly-poly, small nose red from the cold — and Jaehyun has to fight the urge to peck it right this moment, — her small head covered with his favourite winter hat that he personally picked up last october while waiting for the cold season, fluffy bear ears peaking on each side of it, and his cute aggression is suddenly hard to control while looking at her. So he wraps his arms around her to steady her small figure and he bites her gently on one of her chubby cheeks, but she doesn’t mind — she’s used to having her daddy in her personal space, suffocating her with kisses and hugs and belly rubs.

Jaehyun turns his head to throw you a quick look, you’re still grinning, content while feeling the peace of mind you felt during childhood when there was nothing better in this entire world than waiting for a snowy night so you could go outside and make snow angels the following morning.

So a small smile creeps up on his features as well, remembering how happy he used to be as a child, whenever he woke up to snow. 

He moves his limbs in synchronised motions, just like you do, and the big flakes coming from the ski rest on his warm skin. He closes his eyes, the weight of his daughter grounding him from being too much into his own head while rethinking of his childhood and the memories form the past, and he realises this is where he wants to be — here, with you, with your daughter, the product of the two of you. Love, energy, ambition, and beauty encapsulated in a small body, full of gentleness and calmness. 

He opens his eyes the moment he feels your daughter moving slightly, and then sliding off his body, small hands landing directly into the cold snow, but this time she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t scream, not even a screech leaves her small mouth. 

Jaehyun looks at you only to find you already looking at him, and then he looks at your daughter. “I guess it took mommy and daddy frolicking in the snow for you to give it a try. Right, ttalgi?” His voice is gentle, and he pinches her cheeks before standing to his feet.

He pulls you up, helping you steady yourself by keeping you close to his body, and you give him a series of pecks before taking a few steps back and away from him. 

“Let’s play a bit,” you tell him, but it comes out more as a question, and you crouch down, gathering some snow between your hands.

Realising what you’re doing, Jaehyun crouches down forming a snowball — that you think it’s the size of your head — with the help of his huge hands, and he’s very quick with throwing it your way, his competitive side on full display.

The snowball is heavy when it hits the right side of your head as you try to brace for impact, but Jaehyun’s too fast, driven by the rush of competition — that’s in his head only.

You screech, losing your balance a bit, wobbling like an empty bottle that has just been kicked, and you hear Jaehyun let out a bark of laughter, his timbre unmistaken.

You look at him outraged, thinking that the humongous size of the snowball might cause you a concussion, but Jaehyun’s chest still vibrates with laughter, and he falls to his knees. 

Nose scrunching up with laughter, his infamous whiskers make an appearance while he tries to tell you something between huffs of laughter. 

“What’s so funny? You did this on purpose!” You accuse him, pointing at him, but he only laughs harder. 

“Your screech,” Just remembering the way you wobbled on your feet and the screech you let out has Jaehyun shaking on the ground. 

“You definitely did this out of spite!” You launch yourself towards his figure, and you grab his puffer jacket, tugging on its collar until it loosens up a bit, and you slide the snowball you’ve been holding in your grasp, inside his shirt.

Your husband is quick to react this time, the world’s not too quick for him anymore. He takes a breath through his teeth, feeling the cold snow melting all over his back, but he laughs nonetheless. He pulls you down on the ground, rolling you around like you weight nothing.

“Wait, wait!” You plead, feeling dizzy after all the ways he’s handled you on the ground, not giving you any chance to escape away from his grasp.

He takes pity on you, and he falls to his knees in the snow, his hands on each side of your head, entrapping you. He pecks your lips and then your freezing nose, and he means to let you know how much he loves you, but the sound of a child coughing rings in your ears, and both of you feel your pupils increase in size. 

You totally forgot your child is playing in the snow by herself, and the moment the two of you look towards the spot you left her sitting in, you immediately understand the reason for her sudden coughing. 

“Ttalgi, no!” You warn her, authoritarian tone clear and loud.

“No eating snow, ttalgi!” Jaehyun’s voice echoes, and he gets to his feet to stop her from further eating the dirty snow. “Maybe we should head back home, my back’s all wet,” Jaehyun suggests, picking your daughter up.

You nod, “Good idea, we can still play tomorrow,” you extend your hand, letting a few snowflakes falling from the sky sit in the palm of your hand, and you see them melting immediately. Judging by the way it’s snowing, and knowing the forecast for the next days, you know you’ll have a full week of playing in the snow.

Snow crunching under your husband’s heavy steps, he turns to look at you, “Seriously though, if I catch a cold it’s all your fault,” he alludes to the snowball you slid between his shirt and the skin of his back.

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “I’ll cook you your favourite chicken soup. Plus, you’ll get to stay at home with us,”

he chuckled, leaning in, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled like some ceo in a boardroom, “no, this is different. it’s about women. helping women, specifically…making sure they get what they deserve.”

you eye him warily, “that sounds like a threat…spit it out, suh.”

he took a deep breath, glancing away for a second as if mentally preparing himself. when he looked back, there was this fire in his gaze mixed with amusement.

“a clinic. called the orgasm donors. founded by me and the guys, you know who they are — we’d be the donors, of course. women will come in, pay for the service and we guarantee they leave satisfied. no strings, no bullshit. just pleasure.”

the words hung in the air, thick and electric, your mind racing to process. was he serious? a clinic for…orgasms? like some upscale spa, but instead of massages, it was…this?

“johnny, what the actual fuck?”

you finally managed, half-laughing because it had to be a joke, “you’re telling me you and your boys want to open a sex clinic? like, hookers with a business license?”

he didn’t even flinch, “not hookers. donors.” his voice dropped to that husky timbre that always made you listen a little too closely, “it’s consensual, empowering. think about it. how many women go unsatisfied? we’d change that. discreet, safe, guaranteed results. and yeah, paid. but it’s not just about the money, it’s about fixing a real problem,” his hands gestured, emphasizing every point, his passion a little too infectious.

you shifted on the couch, “and you’re….what? the poster boy for this? the first donor?”

a grin tugged at his lips, slow and wicked, “damn, right. but…every idea needs a trial run…someone to test the waters, make sure it works before we go public.”

“test the waters,” you mumble, your brain already connecting the dots, knowing exactly where your best friend’s mind is headed, “with…who?”

his eyes softened, but that cheshire smirk on his lips never wavered, “well…that’s why i’m telling you about it, i was hoping you could test it out?”

you laughed. loudly. awkwardly. the sound burst out, sharp and disbelieving, echoing off the walls. but as seconds ticked by and johnny just watched, arms crossed, that steady gaze unwavering, the humor drained away.

“fuck. you’re actually serious?”

“do i look like i’m joking?” he says, his voice dropping an octave, laced with challenge.

“johnny what the actual hell!? you want us to have sex!?” you say, the words tumbling out blunt and breathless, your heart slamming against your ribs.

“yes. but it’s for science. nothing else.”

“we’ve known each other since we were fourteen.”

“exactly why you’d be the perfect first client, i know you won’t let anything slide that easily, and you’ll actually criticize what’s wrong.”

“this is crazy.”

“c’mon…for science, doctor y/n,” he convinces, his smirk widening, his voice dripping like honey.

“i’m not a doctor yet,” you mumble, half-protest, half-tease.

“yet.” he repeats, “but you will be. and hey, if this becomes successful, i’ll even put your name on it. if not, the world will never know.”

and somehow, somehow, no matter how batshit crazy this is all sounding. he’s convinced you. like he usually does.

you nod slowly, a rush of adrenaline flooding your veins, “okay…fine, do we do it now or?”

he smiles, that slow, knowing curve of his lips pulling wider, eyes gleaming with triumph, “no, meet me at the clinic tomorrow. 7pm.”

you look at him with wide eyes, the reality crashing in like a wave, “you guys already have a building?”

he just nods, still smirking, a little too pleased with himself.

“fuck, you’re really serious.”

✚ THE CLINIC ✚

you pull up to the address johhny texted, your nerves buzzing as the building draws nearer — a subtle signage that reads orgasm donors in minimalist font comes to view. no neon, no sleaze, it could pass for a high-end spa if you squint.

but — as you push through the heavy door at exactly 7:00pm — the illusion shatters.

bright white walls assault your eyes first, sterile and unrelenting under the harsh fluorescent lights that hum overhead angrily. the air smells faintly of antiseptic, cool and clinical, with zero warmth to soften the edges. your eyes water from the flare, a sharp sting that makes you blink hard.

you part your lips to voice the critique bubbling up, but then johnny shows up, coming from a side door.

your best friend has swapped his usual grey joggers for tailored black slacks and a black button down, sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing those veined forearms that flex as he gestured you forward. his hair’s styled back but a few strands rebel, giving him that effortless edge.

“hey,” he greets, voice low and teasing, “right on time. come on back.”

“this lighting,” you start, the words spilling out before you can stop them, “it’s like staring into the sun. how are your clients supposed to–”

he holds up a hand, stopping you mid-sentence, “please save all criticism for the end of the session,” he says, firm but with that signature smirk tugging his lips, like he’s already anticipating your roast.

he knew you too well. knew that the two of you would never get anything done if you started your critics already.

you roll your eyes, the gesture dramatic enough to convey your exasperation. “fine.” you mutter, biting back the flood of suggestions.

mental note: this place should feel relaxing the second you step in. dim lights, softer hues on the wall, plush seating, maybe some ambient music or scented humidifiers. anything to ease into the vibe. not this doctor’s office nightmare that screams ‘pap smear incoming.’ it’s killing the mood before it even starts.

as you follow him down a short hallway, taeyong’s voice cuts through like a burst of sunlight. he pops out from what must be a prep room, all eager energy and bright smile, dressed in a similarly professional getup — slim-fit shirt hugging his lean frame with pants that accentuates his build.

“y/n! thank you so much for doing this for us. we know it’s a lot to ask.”

he steps closer, clasping your hands briefly in his. cool palms, gentle squeeze, his enthusiasm genuine, almost boyish, a stark contrasts to the room’s chill. you can’t help but soften a fraction, even as your brain whirs with more critiques.

“it’s…unconventional but i am curious,” you admit, smiling at him.

taeyong nods thankfully while johnny’s smirk deepens, his hand brushing your lower back to guide you inside one of the doors in the private rooms.

✚ THE APPOINTMENT ✚

johnny’s hand lingers a beat too long on your lower back as he nudges you through the door, clicking it shut behind him.

the inside is no better than the lobby — worse, even. the lights blaze down like surgical spotlights, white and merciless, making your skin prickle. you squint against the glare, blinking away the burn as your eyes adjust to the setup.

in the corner, sits a white table, bare except for a single chair tucked under it. but dominating the center of the room?

a doctor’s examination table.

padded in white paper, complete with stirrups at the end — straight out of a routine check-up. the kind where you brace for a cold speculum and awkward small talk about your last period.

no silk sheets, no mood lighting, no hint of the erotic promise johnny was hyping up. just clinical efficiency that screams spread ‘em for science.

you spin on your heels, dress swishing against your thighs and lock eyes with johnny. he’s leaning against the wall now, arms crossed over his chest, that expectant gaze pinning you in place. his dark eyes search your face, trying to gauge your thoughts.

“what the fuck?”

the words burst out of you, sharp and unfiltered, echoing off the sterile walls. your hands plant on your hips, “this is your big seduction setup? i feel like i’m here for a pap smear, not…whatever the hell this is supposed to be? this seems like a goddamn ob-gyn’s perverted wet dream.”

johnny pushes off the wall, closing the distance with that unhurried stride, his presence filling the room like he owns every inch of it. he doesn’t laugh it off like he usually would have. instead, his lips curve into a slow, knowing smile, the kind that’s both challenge and command.

“trust the process, y/n,” he says, voice dropping low, smooth as velvet. his hand finds your elbow, guiding you backwards until the back of your legs hit the examination table.

“sit. let’s start slow. you’re the client. i’m your…donor.”

you huff a breath, but his grip firms enough, until you’re sitting on the table, legs dangling off the table.

“this is insane,” you blurt out, voice laced with sarcasm as the paper crinkles under your weight, “not hot. not even a little. it’s like role-playing a doctor’s visit gone wrong and—”

he steps between your knees then, hands settling on your thighs, light at first, thumbs trading idle circles that send an unwelcome shiver racing up your spine, shutting you up.

a decade long friendship, and you’ve never been this close before. he smells like clean soap and that faint cologne you’ve memorized, a reminder of lazy afternoons and shared secrets, now twisted into this bizarre from of intimacy.

“feet up,” he instructs, nodding toward the stirrups, his tone professional but laced with heat, eyes never leaving yours, “we need to make sure you’re….comfortable.”

your breath hitches, a mix of resistance and reluctant curiosity bubbling up. you swing your legs up, heels clicking into the metal holds, the position splaying you wide — vulnerable, exposed, even with your dress still hiked modestly to mid thigh.

you clench you jaw before speaking again. “i can’t believe i’m doing this,” you say, more to yourself, the words tumbling out as you meet his gaze defiantly.

he gives you one last smile, his famous cheshire smile this time, a little comforting, before one of his hand slowly slid under your dress, inching it upward with deliberate slowness. no rush, no fumbling. leaving goosebumps behind.

“see? not so bad,” he murmurs, voice husky now. the tension builds, your muscles stiffening under his touch and despite the weirdness — a traitorous warmth pools low in your belly.

he leans in, breath ghosting over your ear, “relax. i got you.”

his fingers brush the edge of your panties, testing, teasing the fabric aside just enough to graze bare skin. you hold your breath, your body bucking up to his touch, betraying the sarcasm still sharp on your tongue, “this better be good, johnny. or your whole empire’s dead on arrival,” you warn him breathlessly.

“this will be good,” he says confidently, having full-faith in this idea, “—now lie back.”

his voice is steady and reassuring as he gently pushes you down onto the table.

the crinkly paper rustles beneath you, cool against your back, and you let your head rest on the thin padding, staring up at the blinding lights that make everything feel too clinical.

johnny’s hands move with purpose, hooking into the waistband of your panties and sliding them down your thighs, over your knees, past the stirrups.

the fabric whispers against your skin before he lets it drop to the floor with a soft thud, leaving you bare from the waist down, dress bunched up around your hips.

and with absolutely no warning — his head dips between your legs and his mouth finds your pussy in one bold motion, tongue flattening against your folds, licking a slow, firm stripe from bottom to top.

the sudden wet heat shocks you, pulling a gasp from your throat as your hips jerk involuntarily.

you didn’t think he’d just go for it like that — straight to the main event, no buildup, his lips sealing around your clit with a suck that sends a jolt through your core.

you try to close your eyes, forcing yourself to sink into the sensation, to let the rhythm of his tongue — circling, flicking, probing deeper — pull you under. but the harsh lights pierce through your eyelids, the sterile scent of the room clings to everything and the awkwardness clings to everything.

this might be someone’s wet dream. but it was definitely not yours.

your body responds, wetness gathering, but no real fire catching. your mood refuses to ignite.

after a couple of minutes, the frustration builds too high. you push at his head, fingers threading into his hair to lift him away.

“stop—johnny, this isn’t working.”

he pulls back immediately, lips glistening, eyes wide with slight shock as he straightens up between your thighs, “fuck….i never had a girl say that to me before.”

you roll your eyes as you sit, your hands behind your back holding you up, amusement cutting through the tension despite yourself, “it’s not…you.”

he quirks a brow, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, curiosity sharpening his gaze, “then what is it?”

you think for a bit, “you just…you can’t start it like that. and this room is not helping. you need to get me in the mood first.”

“okay,” he nods, “got any tips on how i can do that for you?” he asks, actually invested, leaning his hands beside your hips, his body heat a welcome contrast to the chill in the air, almost caging you.

“hmm,” you ponder, biting your lip as you glance up at him, the defiance softening into something more collaborative, “maybe start with kissing me?”

“i can definitely do that,” he says, voice dropping low, that cheshire smile flickering back as he closes the distance. his hand slide up to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek, you share one last look of confirmation and then his mouth is on yours — soft at first, testing, lips pressing with warmth that chases away the sterile cold of the room.

you’d never thought you would be kissing your best friend of ten years like this, tongues tangling in a way that’s equal parts familiar and forbidden. but then again, you’d never thought he would have his tongue on your pussy first. you can taste a hint of you on his lips.

and surprisingly, it’s not as awkward as you’d imagined.

johnny is a good kisser. really good. his lips move with confident ease, parting yours to deepen the connection, his tongue sliding in to stroke against yours in slow, deliberate sweeps that make your pulse quicken.

the two of you find a rhythm really fast, breaths mingling as the kiss builds from tentative to hungry. one of your hands come up to fist his shirt, pulling him closer until his chest presses against yours, the heat of him seeping through the fabric.

a soft moan escapes you, vibrating into his mouth and he answers with a low grunt, his grip shifting to your waist, fingers digging in just enough to anchor you both.

the kiss heats up, turning messy and urgent — teeth grazing lips, tongues dueling as you tilt your head for better access.

your legs are still wide open, held up by the stirrups, the hard line of his cock pressing through his pants against your bare core, sending sparks up your spine.

one of his hands make’s their way to your thigh, lightly squeezing, thumb circling the exposed skin where your dress rides up, pulling you into the friction as quiet moans spill from your lips, raw and unrestrained.

you were definitely turned on now.

you break for air first, barely, your forehead resting against his, breaths ragged, eyes closed, “johnny—” you murmur, voice breathless and whiny, “you can touch me now.”

“anything you want,” he says, smirking, voice husky as his hand slides under your dress. fingers finding your clit with unnerving precision.

he rubs slow circles over the bud, the slick heat between your legs betraying just how turned on you are now — your pussy coating his fingertips as he presses firmer, parting your folds and teasing your entrance.

you can’t help but pull him back into the makeout session, lips crashing against his desperately, tongues sliding wet and frantic.

then — two thick digits thrust into you, shallowly at first, the initial intrusion making you gasp into his mouth. his fingers felt so fulling already. nothing like the way yours feel when you touch yourself. his hits deeper, perfectly curling to stroke that sensitive spot that makes your hips buck against his hand.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts against your lips, eyebrows a bit furrowed as his fingers stretch your walls with each plunge, scissoring them apart and grazing every ridge inside you.

“holy shit — johnny,” you cling to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, the building heat coiling tighter, your body arching involuntarily.

then his thumb flicked back and forth over your clit — and your muscles weaken, spine going liquid. you can’t hold yourself up anymore. with a gasp into his mouth, you slump back onto the examination table, the cool paper crinkling under your shoulders as you pull him down with you, his body following without missing a beat.

he hovers over you, his free hand planting beside your head to steady himself while the other keeps driving into your pussy, faster now, curling just right, hitting your g-spot with deliberate force.

“johnny—oh god, right there,” you whimper, head falling back, as you rock your hips up to meet his thrusts, chasing the friction that’s turning your insides to fire.

johnny’s breath fans hot against your neck, lips brushing your ear, “that’s it, feel how you’re squeezing me? so fucking wet for me,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, encouraging, the stretch burning sweetly while his fingers fuck you deeper, knuckles bumping your clit with every slam.

“fuck—fuck—fuck—” you squeeze your eyes shut as the pressure builds unbearably fast, your pussy clenching around him.

he doesn’t let up, his fingers relentlessly curling inside you, thumb circling your swollen clit in tight loops that make your toes curl on the table. if it weren’t for the stirrups holding you open, your legs would definitely be squeezing shut to gain a moment of relief.

“breathe through it, baby,” johnny murmurs, his voice low and commanding.

the pet name hits you like a spark, spiraling through you, twisting the building orgasm into something deeper, more consuming. your walls flutter and tighten even more around his invading fingers, a sharp, involuntary squeeze that betrays how that single pet name pushes you closer to the edge.

he feels it immediately — the way you clamp down on him, hot and slick, your body pulsing in rhythm with his words. he can’t help but feel smug.

“gonna get you all ready for me,” he grunts, a low growl rumbles from his throat. then he adds a third finger, stretching you even more, his eyes locked on your flushed face, drinking in every twitch and whimper.

“let it build, baby—fuck, you’re gonna come so hard,” he growls, his fingers curling harder, faster.

your breaths come in sharp gasps now as the edge rushes closer, your walls continuing to flutter around his digits.

“johnny—,” you moan his name, the sound breaking from your throat raw and desperate, just as the wave crests, ripping through you like a storm.

your first orgasm hits you like a brick as you gush slick that soaks his hand and drops onto the table beneath you, staining the paper as he milks out every last shudder from you.

“that’s it baby, cum all over my fingers,” he says darkly, a small smirk on his face as your pussy spasms wildly around his fingers.

after a moment, johnny eases his fingers out slowly, his hand glistening with your release, spreading it along your inner thigh, painting you with your own cum.

he watches you, that smug pride radiating from him like he’s just conquered something monumental.

your chest heaves, breaths coming in ragged bursts, and for a couple of seconds, he just lets you lie there, a hand massaging your thigh, stirring goosebumps along your skin and slowly pulling you back to reality.

when your eyes finally flutter open, hazy and unfocused — he’s right there. hovering closer, his cheshire grin in full force, way too proud like he’s won some secret bet against your skepticism.

he slides his clean hand under your back, the other still slick on your thighs, as he helps you sit up, removing your feet off the stirrups.

your legs dangle off the edge of the table again, weak and jelly-like, but his grip is steady, grounding.

“fuck,” you finally manage to say, “so what now?” you ask, voice breathy and a little wrecked, your gaze flicking down to where his fingers, still shiny from you, rest casually on your skin.

“well…” he hums, drawing it out low in his throat. he leans in a fraction, “we can keep going and i give you another one or…we can stop here. whatever you want — you tell me. that’s how this works, after all.”

fuck.

has your best friend always been this hot?

yes. but you’ve been ignoring that fact for ten years.

now — his words hit different and your mind is going crazy with the way his touch lingers, the warmth of his large hand still tracing lazy patterns on your thigh.

the heat in your belly hasn’t faded. in fact — it was stronger now. ready to flare at the slightest provocation.

you can feel the pull. that enticing ache building again, your body already craving the stretch, the friction — him.

and he sees it, clear as day — the calculations flickering across your face, the way your breath hitches when his fingers flex against you.

the skepticism since he first pitched this insane clinic idea cracking under the weight of what just happened — what he’s capable of pulling from you — with his hands alone.

the appeal hits you like a revelation. this isn’t some clinical farce. it’s raw, unfiltered pleasure tailored just for you. no judgments. no expectations beyond chasing the next high. your body hums with it, that post-orgasm flow sharpening into hunger, and yeah...maybe you were starting to get it now. as ridiculous as it sounds.

he smirks wider, tilting his head, eyes dark and knowing and you know he’s enjoying this a little bit too much.

“what’s it gonna be, doctor?”

your pulse thuds in your ears, the sterile hum of the clinic fading into white noise as you meet his gaze, the defiance from earlier melting into something hungrier.

“fuck it,” you say, the words tumbling out, your voice steadier than you feel, “keep going.”

johnny’s grin turns predatory, satisfaction flashing in his eyes, “good choice.”

“but,” you start, shifting on the examination table, “i really don’t feel comfortable on here…i feel like i’m a patient.”

he laughs at that, the sound low and genuine, rumbling from his chest as he skims the room quickly.

there’s not a lot of options — just the sterile exam setup and that table in the corner.

without a word, he scoops you up in one fluid motion, his large hands under your thighs, lifting you off the crinkled paper like you weight nothing. a surprised squeal escapes you, your hands flying to his shoulders for balance, legs wrapping instinctively around his hips.

“johnny!” you half-laugh, half-protest, but he’s already moving, placing you gently on the coner table — the surface firmer, less clinical, feels almost normal under your ass. your dress settling haphazardly around your hips.

“this better?” he asks, hands lingering on your waist.

“much,” you reply, smirking up at him, the shift in position grounding you, making this feel less like an experiment and more like….you two.

your fingers curl into his shirt collar, tugging him down as you lean in, crashing your lips against his in a kiss that’s all heat and no hesitation. he slots himself closer between your thighs without missing a beat, his hips pressing forward, the hard line of his erection grinding against your core through his pants, drawing a muffled moan from you into his mouth.

you break the kiss just enough to tease, your breath mingling with his, “now…my donor,” you say, throwing his own word back at him with a playful lilt, your hand sliding down the planes of his chest, tracing the ridges of his abs under the thin fabric, feeling them flex under your touch.

“is cumming on your dick allowed?”

“that’s what i’m here for, doll,” he murmurs by your ear, voice a rough whisper that sends shivers racing down your spine, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there before nipping lightly.

if you didn’t already cross it before, you were definitely about to cross the line best friends shouldn’t even be teetering on now.

but hey…it’s all in the name of science! right?

his hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him, the friction of his clothed cock rubbing tight where you’re aching, your slickness soaking through to dampen the front of his pants. you arch into him, grinding back with a deliberate roll of your hips, the tease turning urgent as your fingers dip lower, fumbling with his belt buckle.

the metal clinks softly in the quiet room. he doesn’t stop you. in fact, he helps pop the button, shoving his pants and boxers down to his ankles, his cock springing free — already hard, thick and heavy and so…so…big.

“oh….shit,” you breathe out, eyes widening as you take him in fully.

you had an inkling that your best friend was big, just by looking at the size of his hands, but fuck…he is much bigger than your brain could’ve even imagined. the length curves slightly upward, veins prominent along the shaft, the head flushed and glistening with pre-cum.

he smirks, that signature grin pulling at his lips again as he watches your reaction, “is that a good oh shit or a bad oh shit?”

“it’s an oh shit, i don’t think you’re gonna fit,” you say, half-joking, half-serious, your voice laced with a mix of awe and nerves.

and still, you can’t help yourself — your hand reaches out, wrapping around his length, squeezing the girth that barely fits in your palm.

he lets you stroke him slowly, from base to tip, then again, feeling the heat of your fingers. a quiet hiss slipping from his lips at your touch, his hips twitching forward instinctively.

“don’t worry about that,” he grunts, eyes darkening as he stares down at where your hand works him, “i’ll make it fit.”

and then he’s slapping your hand away gently but firmly, taking control as he aligns himself against your entrance. the broad head of his cock pressing against your folds, parting them with ease, coating him with your slick, as he circles his leaking tip around your pulsing clit.

your breath catches in your throat, stomach already clenching from want. but before you could lose entirely, you push him back a bit with your palms on his chest, heart pounding.

“wait…we’re doing this without a condom?”

he rolls his eyes, amusement flickering in his gaze, but there’s no impatience in it.

“i know for a fact you’re on birth control…unless you prefer it with a condom?”

you shake your head no, the idea of that barrier suddenly feeling wrong, but practicality continues to nag at you.

“no, but what if you get a client that isn’t on birth control? or god forbid, a client that isn’t clean?”

he chuckles, low and throaty, leaning in closer so his breath fans over your lips.

“well, they’re not the one’s i’m about to fuck right now, are they?…i’ll worry about it when that happens, but right now…it’s just me and you,” his voice drops, seductive and intimate, wrapping around the words like a promise, making the room feel smaller, warmer.

just the two of you in this sex bubble.

and before you could point out something else — his tip nudges at your entrance, sliding in with a slow, deliberate push.

it steals your breath, the stretch immediate and intense even with just the head breaching you.

he’s sooo fucking big, filling that first inch like it’s a challenge, your pussy yielding but clenching around the intrusion.

you gasp, sharp and involuntary, your fingers going up and tightening around his bicep, nails digging into the hard muscle there for purchase, your mouth open in a silent moan. the burn is sweet, bordering on too much, but your body responds on instinct, hips tilting up to take more, slick easing the way as he holds still, letting you adjust.

“easy,” he murmurs, one hand stroking your thigh soothingly while the other braces on the table, his eyes locked on yours, watching every flicker of expression, “breathe, baby. you’re doing so good already — so fucking tight around me.”

the praise hits low, sending a fresh wave of heat through you and you nod, exhaling shakily as your force your muscles to relax. inch by inch, he sinks deeper, the thick length of him stretching your walls — it’s overwhelming, the fullness making your toes curl.

a low whine escapes your throat as he bottoms out, hips flush against yours, his balls pressing warm against your ass.

“johnny—oh god,” you whimper, your head tipping back as you hold your weight up on the table. he’s already so fucking deep it’s sparking that spot inside you with pressure.

he groans in response, the sound raw and strained, like he’s holding back everything to give you this moment.

“see? fit’s perfect. told you.”

“now…you gotta tell me how you like it. this will only work if i know,” his voice is husky, edged with restraint.

you nod in response and he starts to move — pulling out just enough to let your pussy grip him on the way back in, building the rhythm slow and teasing. the drag of his cock sends sparks up your spine, each shallow thrust testing your reactions, his eyes locked on your face like he’s memorizing every gasp and twitch.

“you like that?” he asks, voice low and gravelly, rolling his hips in a gentle circle onces he’s fully seated again, grinding against your clit with the base of his shaft.

“mmm, yeah—deeper,” you breathe out, your hands sliding up his arms to anchor yourself, directing him with your words and the subtle lift of your hips, “angle it up a little…right there—fuck”

he adjusts on the next thrust, bringing one of your legs higher and settling it on his shoulder, and when the head of his cock nudges that perfect spot inside you — your eyes roll back so far you see stars.

a loud moan spills from your lips, unrestrained and needy, echoing off the walls, “oh shit, yes—johnny!”

the slow build shatters into something urgent, his thrusts gaining purpose as he chases that reaction again and again.

“faster,” you moan out, the word a desperate plea, your body already chasing the edge. he follows well, hips snapping forward with more force, hitting that spot faster and faster, each thrust driving the air from your lungs in sharp gaps.

his grip on your hip tightens, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to bruise, holding you steady as he pounds into you.

“fuck doll, you feel so good,” he grunts, sweat beading on his forehead.

you try your best to meet his pace, pushing up with one of your heel planted on the table, your pussy clenching around him greedily. your fingers curling at the table behind you, knuckles white, trying your best to ground yourself as the pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your core.

“don’t stop — oh god, johnny – just like that!”

the right sleeve of your dress falls of your shoulder mid-thrust, exposing more skin and it’s so hot to him — the disheveled look, the way you’re coming undone under him.

“fuck,” he growls at the sight, eyes raking over you hungrily before he reaches up and pulling both of your sleeves down completely. the fabric bunches at your waist, your black lace bra coming into view, the thin material doing little to hide your hardened nipples as your tits bounce up and down with every thrust, jiggling enticingly, drawing his gaze like a magnet.

“goddamn, look at you,” he rasps, thrusting deeper, his rhythm faltering for a second as he drinks in the view.

you grab one of his hands, trailing it up your body — over the curve of your waist, the dip of your ribs until he’s cupping your tit through the bra, squeezing the soft flesh roughly. the lace scratches against your skin, adding a teasing friction, and you arch into his palm with a whine.

“take it off,” you demand breathlessly. he doesn’t hesitate, one hand reaching for the hook and removing it swiftly, letting your tits spill free — heavy and flushed, nipples pebbled in the cool air. his large hand engulfs one breast, thumb flicking over your nipple, squeezing just hard enough to make you cry out.

“these are fucking perfect,” he grunts, leaning in closer, his thrusts never slowing as he continues to stimulate all your senses.

you pull him down for a kiss then, crashing your lips against his in a messy, open-mouthed clash. tongues tangle hot and desperate. you moan into his mouth, the sound vibrating between you and he answers with a deep grunt, hips continuing their thrusts even as your pussy flutters around him.

“johnny—fuck—i’m gonna—” your words break off in a gasp, the coil snapping without warning as you hold onto him for dear life.

and before you know it, you’re cumming all over his cock as your second orgasm hits.

“that’s it doll, cum all over me — just like that,” he groans, pounding through your orgasm with short, brutal thrusts, prolonging the bliss until you’re trembling, oversensitive and spent.

your body shakes, slick coating his length as he drives in one last time, grinding deep to feel every quiver.

he stops then, bringing your raised leg back down on the table but he doesn’t pull out — staying buried inside you, his cock twitching as he feels you pulse around him, making his breath hitch. the aftershocks hum through your nerves, sweat slicking your skin, his chest heaving against yours.

“think you can take more?” he asks, voice rough and low, his thumb stroking lazy circles on your hip as he watches your face, eyes dark with hunger.

you try to catch your breath, a light chuckle slipping out of you as your mind tries to catch up, chest rising and falling in ragged bursts. a lazy smirk tugs at your lips despite the haze.

“fuck—i mean, isn’t that the purpose of this whole thing? we keep going until i say stop?”

he reflects your smirk, that grin flashing wide and wicked, “now, you’re starting to get it.”

with a gentle but firm grip, he slides out and helps you to your feet, your legs wobbling a bit. your dress, already bunched at your waist, slips completely to the floor, leaving you completely bare except for your heels. the cool air hits your flushed skin but his gaze rakes over you like fire.

“fuck—you’re so hot,” he says, the words raw and appreciative, hanging heavy in the air.

yeah, that best friend line has been completely obliterated.

heat creeps up your neck but before it can make you blush fully, you take two steps, closing the distance, hands reaching for his button down. your fingers work the buttons open one by one, trembling slightly from the exertion, revealing the hard planes of his chest down to his rock hard abs.

you’ve seen his abs plenty of times, considering johnny loves walking around your shared apartment shirtless half of the time. but seeing it this close — you can’t help but admire, biting your lip as your nails graze down each line.

“like what you see?” he teases, an amused grin on his lips.

you roll your eyes playfully before shoving the shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside, leaving him naked too — his cock still hard and glistening with your release, jutting out thick and demanding.

he watches you the whole time, arms loose at his sides, that intense stare making your pulse kick up again.

and when you’re done — he tilts your jaw up with two fingers, pulling you into a breathless kiss, your neck craning up as his lips crash softly at first, then deeper, tongues sliding slow and filthy.

before you can melt into it fully — he breaks away. spinning you around with a hand on your waist.

your palms slap against the cool wall. he presses in close, body caging yours, cock nudging between your thighs from behind.

with no warning — he thrusts back in with one smooth, powerful stroke, burying himself to the hilt in your soaked pussy.

no easing in this time. now that he knows you can handle him.

the sudden fullness rips a sharp cry from your throat, your walls stretching around him again, the angle hitting deeper than before.

“johnny—ahh, fuck!” you gasp, forehead pressing to the wall as your body arches instinctively, heels scraping the floor for purchase, your tits squeezed against it.

it’s intense — the way he fills you up so completely, reigniting the fire that barely dimmed.

he doesn’t give you time to adjust, hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm, fucking you against the wall with grunts that vibrate through his chest into your back.

each thrust jolts you forward, tits scraping the surface, the friction adding sparks to the overwhelming pressure building for the third time.

“so fucking perfect like this — you can take it like a good girl, yeah?” he growls, one hand splaying across your stomach, holding you upright as your legs start to feel like jelly, knees buckling under the force.

his hold on you is so strong that he’s practically lifting you up. the tip of your heels the only thing touching the ground below you.

you whimper, at a loss for words, your teeth clenched so hard as you try your best not to break so quickly.

but he’s got you pinned, his grip firm on your belly and god, you can feel it — his hand pressing down on your stomach, the bulge of his cock moving beneath your skin with every plunge, the sheer size of him outlined through your abdomen.

it’s obscene, intoxicating, spurring you both on like a dirty secret.

“shit — shit — johnny, i can feel you — so deep —fuck — you’re huge,” you moan, the words spilling out in a haze, your pussy clenching harder at the though, slick dripping down your thighs.

“yeah, baby you like that?” he rasps, voice deep but strained with effort, “that’s me owning this pussy,” his fingers splaying wider over your stomach to push into the ridge forming there.

his other hand slides up to grip your hair, pulling you back onto him harder, making your eyes roll back as the slap of skin echo louder in the room. your legs are trembling, barely holding you, but he keeps you steady, bouncing you on his cock, his groans right by your ear as he watches the way your body yields to him.

“gonna make you feel every inch—cum again for me, doll.”

the pressure builds impossibly quick, your breaths coming in pants, your hand coming down to grip the arm around your stomach for support, every thrust sending jolts through you until you’re teetering on the edge once more, lost in the raw, pounding heat of him. his bulge under your skin a constant reminder of how deeply he’s claiming you.

it hits like a freight train — your third orgasm crashes over you so hard you can’t even make a noise anymore, mouth falling open in a silent scream as your body seizes.

you’re sure a vein in your forehead is popping as your vision blurs at the edges, legs giving out completely as he lets you slump against the wall, held up only by his unyielding grip, the intensity leaving you boneless and dazed.

johnny pulls back just enough too look at you — smug as hell, eyes gleaming with triumph as he takes in your wrecked state.

“look at you — so beautiful when you come apart for me,” he murmurs by your ear, voice sweet yet thick with satisfaction.

but he’s far from done.

his cock is still rock-hard, throbbing inside you.

he doesn’t give you time to fully process the aftershocks, easing out with a wet slide before manhandling you again.

your gasp echoes as he guides you back to the corner table, bending you over it, face-down, tits pressed into the surface, ass up and exposed.

the position leaves you vulnerable, body still humming from the high, your mind foggy, trying to string thoughts together amid the haze of bliss and exhaustion.

he leans over you, chest to your back, his breath hot against your ear as he cages you in, “i think you can take one more,” he whispers, lips brushing the shell, the words laced with dark promise, as he parts your legs wider.

you’re so fucked out, words fail you — so you just nod, an incoherent yes that comes out as a whimper, head lolling to the side.

that’s all he needs.

“good girl.”

in one motion, he lines up and thrusts back inside, cock spearing into your soaked heat with a slick squelch.

you’re not sure it was possible, but the new angle hits even deeper, bottoming out against your cervix. and johnny — he doesn’t hold back.

he fucks you faster, harder, the pace relentless as his hips slam against your ass, the table creaking under the force. each thrust is punishing, building that impossible tension again.

you’re a mess.

drool slips from the corner of your mouth onto the table, screams tearing from your throat in broken cries of—

“johnny–johnny—johnny—fuck!”

your hands flail back, reaching desperately to hold onto him for dear life, fingers clawing at his thighs, pulling him closer even as it overwhelms you.

the room fills with the obscene sounds of skin meeting skin, your pussy slurping around him, the air thick with the scent of sex.

then his hand snakes around, fingers finding your throbbing clit, rubbing tight, firm circles — rough and precise, no mercy.

“c’mon baby, let go,” he practically growls, voice rough with his own building strain.

it’s too much, the dual sensation shattering you.

“no—wait—fuck, i can’t—” you babble, but your body betrays you, the pressure exploding outward.

your pussy convulses violently, pushing him out with a gush as you squirt all over him — hot jets of your juices spraying across his cock, stomach, and the floor in messy arcs, soaking everything in sight.

the release of your fourth orgasm drags a guttural moan from deep in your chest, body shaking uncontrollably as you collapse forward, utterly spent.

the way you squeezed him, the sight of you squirting, marking him in the rawest way — it all pushes johnny right to the edge, his eyes locked on the way your body erupts and the next second he’s groaning low and deep.

“shit—i’m cumming,” he rasps, stroking himself furiously, ropes of thick cum painting your lower back in hot, sticky bursts of white.

the warmth splatters across your skin, dripping down your skin as the top half of his body weight falls on you, pressing you into the table.

he holds himself up only with his elbows braced on either side, caging you in completely, his chest heaving against your back.

your shared moans of release echo in the room, the only sound breaking the heavy silence, raw and intertwined, as you both ride out the aftershocks.

his cock twitches against your ass, spent but still pulsing, while your walls flutter emptily, aching from intensity.

after a minute or three, the tremors fade and you turn around slowly, wincing at the soreness blooming between your thighs.

johnny straightens up, concern flicking in his eyes as he lifts you back onto the table with gentle hands, sitting you down carefully.

you lean into him without thinking, head finding comfort in the solid warmth of his chest, ear pressed to the rapid thump of his heartbeat slowing to a steady rhythm. his arms wrap around you loosely, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your bare back, tracing lazy patterns over the sweat-slick skin.

he breaks the silence first, voice soft and tentative, “did i hurt you?”

you shake your head no, nuzzling closer for a moment before pulling away just a bit, enough to meet his gaze. a teasing smile tugs at your lips despite the exhaustion.

“sooo….now that you came, does that mean the session is over? how does that work?”

he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest, that familiar cheshire grin returning but softer now, less predatory.

“no…it’s only over once the client say it’s over.”

you quirk a brow, the words sinking in.

yeah, you definitely see the appeal of this whole thing now.

maybe your best friend is a genius after all — turning mind-melting ecstasy into a moneymaking business.

“do you want to keep going?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts, his thumb still stroking your skin.

you laugh at that, the sound light and breathless, your head falling back into his chest, “no, fuck…i’m so tired i just want to sleep it off.”

he laughs too, the vibration soothing against you, “so no reviews for today?”

you smirk up at him, playful, “oh, i got reviews…plenty of complaints too…but let’s save it for tomorrow.”

he laughs again, genuine and warm and when you yawn, wide and unapologetic, that’s when he nods, “okay, let’s go home,” he says softly, helping you slide off the table.

his touch is careful as he gathers your discarded clothes, kneeling briefly to slip your underwear back up your legs, fingers grazing your thighs with tenderness. he clasps your bra into place next, hooking it efficiently before easing your dress over your head, smoothing the fabric down your body like he’s done it a hundred times.

you watch him dress himself too, that easy confidence back in place. then he takes your hand, leading you out of t he room, the door clicking shut behind you on the echo of what just happened.

“wait–,” you say, pausing mid-step, “do we just…leave our mess in there?”

he chuckles, pulling you towards the lobby, “don’t worry about it, we’ll have someone clean it up,” he says, still holding your hand for some reason, fingers intertwined loosely, like it’s the most natural thing after everything.

taeyong’s head pops out from behind the computer at the front desk, his eyes lighting up with excitement when he spots the two of you.

“was it okay?” taeyong asks curiously, observing the way you’re leaning into johnny’s side, the subtle flush still on your cheeks.

“yeah, actually,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips, and the two men share a look — quick, loaded, like yeah, this business is going to work.

there’s a spark of triumph there, the kind that says they’ve just tested the waters and found them perfect.

taeyong smiles, sliding a sleek black bag across the counter then, “as our first ever client, you should be the first to have this,” he says, pushing it toward you with a wink.

you quirk a brow, curiosity piqued, letting go of johnny’s hand to grab the bag and peer inside. your fingers close around soft fabric, pulling out a hoodie — white, oversized, with the words orgasm donor printed boldy across the chest in block letters.

“wow,” you say, bursting into laughter, “you guys even have merch?”

the two of them laugh with you, the sound filling the lobby, light and infectious, “what can we say?” johnny says, slinging an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, “we’re really serious about this.”

you shake your head, still chuckling as you fold the hoodie back into the bag, the absurdity of it all hitting just right after the intensity of the session.

and with johnny’s arm still slung over your shoulder you head out of the clinic together.

✚ THE REVIEWS ✚

you two didn’t make it very far last night, the weight of exhaustion crashing down the moment you stepped through the apartment door. the couch became your makeshift bed — clothes half shed, the orgasm donor hoodie swallowing you whole paired only with your panties underneath.

meanwhile, johnny stripped down to his boxers, collapsing beside you with a contented sigh, an arm under your head as sleep claimed you both in seconds. it’s not like the two of you haven’t fallen asleep together on this couch multiple times before.

now, the morning light filters through the half-drawn blinds, pulling you away first. your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the familiar clutter of the living room.

johnny’s still out cold next to you, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm, his hair tousled across his forehead. he looks like your johnny — peaceful, almost boyish, a far cry from the commanding presence he wore yesterday.

a faint ache lingers between your thighs — a reminder of what happened. but it’s not unpleasant. just a quiet echo of pleasure.

you sit up, reaching for the notebook and pen on the coffee table to jot down your thoughts from yesterday’s session.

after a while, the page fills and you set the notebook aside, glancing at johnny’s sleeping form.

you pat his stomach rapidly, “wake up,” you say, voice soft but insistent.

he groans, low and muffled, burrowing deeper into the cushion, “ugh…five more minutes.”

you roll your eyes, patting a little harder now, “do you want your feedback or not?”

that does it.

he sits up quickly, blinking against the light, rubbing a hand over his face as his sleepy eyes adjust slowly. stray sunlight catches the sharp line of his jaw, and yeah, he looks cute like this.

“fine, i’m up,” he sighs, voice gravelly from sleep.

for a split second, the memory of yesterday flickers back. you ignore the way your body feels hot while recalling it.

but you push it away, forcing your playful best friend nature to snap into place — the ease of a decade’s worth of banter overriding the fresh intimacy. like the two of you didn’t strip bare and chase ecstasy together just hours ago.

you sit up too, smirking, “alright, mr. serious businessman,” you tease, your notebook already open in front of you, “review time. and don’t interrupt until i’m done.”

he chuckles, settling back against the armrest legs stretching out to brush yours as you sit opposite from him.

“yes doc, lay it on me,” his eyes sparkle with that familiar mischief, but there’s a genuine curiosity there too, like he’s hanging on your every word already.

“one,” you start, tapping the pen against the paper for emphasis, “you gotta get rid of those harsh lights. make the lobby feel more like a nice, relaxing spa. and not a doctor’s clinic. seriously, it was like walking into a hospital. who wants to get off in there?”

he nods slowly, “fair. we were going for clinical precision but yeah, ambiance matters.”

“two – you need to know your clients. why are they coming in? what’s their purpose? what turns them on? and you need to cater the experience to them. because i’m telling you right now, johnny, the doctor’s office setup ya’ll have going on? sure, that might be someone’s fantasy. but not everyone’s. personally, i thought it was creepy.”

his eyebrows shoot up, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to defend the vibe, but you point the pen at him warningly.

“zip it. i know you’re thinking about role-play potential, but save it. this is about customization, not one-size-fits all.”

he closes his mouth, nodding again, though his eyes dance with amusement.

“three,” you continue, gaining momentum, your voice steady as you lean into the critique, “you need some sort of consent waiver or this whole thing can fire back on you fast.”

johnny’s expression turns serious for a beat, and he gives a firm nod, “already on the list, but noted.”

“four — the condoms thing? make sure everyone who signs up for your service is tested. same goes for your donors. and i highly suggest that every donor wears a condom. i mean, come on — health first, even in fantasy land.”

he shifts slightly, his leg pressing a bit more against yours, but he just hums in agreement, fingers drumming on his thigh.

“five – i’m sorry but the whole ‘we keep going until the client says stop,’ is bullshit okay? treat yourselves with respect too, just because you're selling this service doesn’t mean you can’t have lines as well. what happens if they want to fuck for 8 hours straight? it’s not plausible. set a limit. and if they’re not satisfied then i don’t know, maybe you can offer a partial refund.”

johnny chuckles softly, leaning in a bit “but what if—”

i “nope,” you cut him off, poking his knee with the pen, “limits protect everyone. end of story.”

he settles back, chuckling again, his gaze warm and attentive.

“six,” you say, flipping the page for effect, “reviews are important. i think you already know that. so keep implementing that. make it easy, anonymous if they want, and actually use the feedback to tweak things. it’s gold for building trust and improving.”

he nods enthusiastically this time, no attempt to speak, “i completely agree.”

“and lastly,” you finish with a grin, closing the notebook with a satisfied smirk, “i like the hoodie. it’s fun, comfy, cheeky — the perfect merch to make people laugh and remember the experience.”

johnny bursts out laughing at that, reaching over to ruffle your hair, “thanks for the reviews, doc,” he smirks as you two share a smile.

✚ END OF SESSION ✚

bonus scene:

“thanks for the reviews, doc,” he smirks, “but have i ever told you…how hot you get when you talk like that?”

he shifts closer on the couch, his body heat cutting through the morning chill, that grin widening as his knee nudges yours.

the air thickens, charged with the same electric pull from yesterday's session.

“all stern and commanding, my little know-it-all,” he murmurs, voice dropping low, his hand brushing your leg.

your pulse quickens, body leaning in before your brain catches up, heat pooling low in your belly. but you catch yourself, planting a hand on his chest.

“nu-uh, suh,” you say, pushing him back with a playful shove, though your voice wavers just a touch. “don't even think about it.”

he tilts his head, eyes gleaming with amusement, feigning innocence, “think about what?”

you smirk back, crossing your arms to hold your ground, “you're not starting a friends with benefits relationship with me when you're about to open a sex clinic.”

he laughs, deep and rumbling, the sound vibrating through you, “well…the clinic isn't open yet,” he teases, his hand sliding up your leg, to your thighs and settling on your hip, fingers digging in just enough to pull you closer across the cushions.

his touch is firm, insistent, drawing you into his orbit, your breath syncing with his.

“hmmm... i guess it isn't?” you murmur, the words half-question, half-surrender, your resolve crumbling under the weight of his gaze.

he knows he's got you — that smug spark in his eyes says it all.

in one smooth motion, he tugs you onto his lap.

then he plays with the hem of your hoodie, the two you of talking with your eyes as you give him the go signal.

he pulls the hoodie up and over your head, leaving you bare from the waist up, skin prickling in the cool air, your breasts bouncing free.

“review number two,” he says, voice husky, echoing your earlier words as he settles you onto his lap, straddling him, “know your client.”

“what about it?” you ask, breath hitching, trying to cling to that confident front even as your body betrays you, thighs clenching around his.

“does my client like getting her tits sucked?” he looks up at you, eyes still soft from sleep, but his words drip with filth, thumb circling your nipple teasingly.

you nod, swallowing hard, “she does.”

“good to know,” he growls, before his lips close around your nipple, hot and wet, tongue flicking the peak as he sucks hard. the pull sends a jolt straight to your core, your pussy clenching empty, already slick with want.

his free hand grips your ass, kneading the flesh, pulling you down so you grind against the growing bulge in his boxers.

you moan, fingers threading into his messy hair, holding him there as he switches to the other breast, teeth grazing just enough to sting before soothing with a swirl of his tongue.

“johnny—” you gasp, hips rocking instinctively, the friction of his hard cock pressing through the thin fabric making you ache.

this is definitely much hotter than yesterday. the couch a familiar place. making everything feel more intimate. real.

he hums against your skin, the vibration buzzing through you, then releases your nipple with a pop, looking up with that wicked smile.

“see? customizing the experience already. what else does she like? tell me, doc — guide me through it.”

his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you slightly so he can yank down his boxer enough to free his thick cock. it springs up, heavy and veined, brushing your inner thigh.

your mouth waters at the sight, that familiar stretch from yesterday flashing in your mind — the way he fills you so completely.

“she likes... you inside her,” you whisper.

he doesn’t waste another second, tugging your panties to the side, his tip nudging your wet folds.

“then take it baby, come on,” he groans, hands on your hips guiding you down slowly, inch by inch, his cock stretching your pussy wide.

the initial breach makes you whimper. you’re not too sure you could ever get used to his size.

you sink lower, feeling every ridge and vein as he claims more space inside you, your body trembling from the fullness, as he reshapes you to fit him all over again.

he's so deep, the tip pressing against your cervix, that overwhelming stuffed feeling making your toes curl — his size dominating every nerve, leaving no room for anything but him.

“god—johnny—,” you start to move, rolling your hips in a slow grind, his hands helping set the pace, thumbs digging into your skin to lift and drop you with control.

the size of him makes it intense, your thighs quivering from the effort, but the pleasure builds fast, that perfect friction against your inner walls amplified by how he stretches you so wide.

“just like that, baby—ride me just like that,” he pants, thrusting up to meet you, the slap of skin echoing in the quiet living room.

your breasts bounce with each bounce, and he captures one again, sucking as you ride him harder, chasing that building pressure.

you pick up speed, grinding down harder, your clit grinding against his pubic bone, the way his thick base rubs your entrance sending sparks through you.

“god, we should have done this years ago,” he growls against your skin, voice rough, his hips bucking up sharper now, driving deeper.

his words turn you on even more. you lean forward, hands on his chest for leverage, riding him harder, the rhythm turning frantic. your ass slaps against his thighs, the couch creaking under the force, and you feel him throb inside you, swelling even thicker, pushing your limits further.

and he meets your pace. fucking up into you faster and faster to the point your arms shake, falling forward, high-pitched moans spilling from your lips.

the coil tightens unbearably, your walls clamping down on his massive cock as he keeps thrusting up into you, his balls slapping your skin.

“johnny—i'm close,” you whine by his ear, the words tumbling out between gasps, your body on fire from how he fills you completely, no empty spaces, just pure, overwhelming sensation.

“me too, doll, fuck — come with me,” he grunts, his large hands squeezing your as as he continues his relentless pace, slamming you down onto him.

your body listens to him well, your orgasm ripping through you just like that. you cry out, nails digging into his skin, and he follows right after, groaning your name as his cock jerks, hot spurts of cum flooding your depths, painting your walls as you ride out the shared high together, bodies locked in shuddering release.

minutes pass in lazy silence, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his shoulder as the high fades into a warm, sated glow.

you lift your head, meeting his gaze, those dark eyes soft now, stripped of the earlier hunger but no less intense.

he’s still inside you, the weight of him a comforting pressure, your walls molded to his girth like they've forgotten how to let go.

gently, you reach up, pushing his damp hair back from his forehead, the strands sticking slightly to his skin from the sweat of your shared frenzy.

“you know, if you ever get tired of being a donor...” you say, the words trailing off with a knowing lilt, the implication hanging between you like an unspoken promise.

he chuckles low, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating where you're connected, making you shift slightly and feel him nudge deeper.

“i know where to find you,” he finishes your sentence, knowing you too well. his voice is rough from exertion but laced with that familiar tease, his hands stroking your back in slow, soothing circles.

you smile, leaning in closer, your nose brushing his, “mhm, you know where to find me,” you reply, the words sealing the quiet vow.

then he closes the gap, capturing your lips in one last, slow kiss — soft and unhurried, tongues tangling lazily as if savoring the taste of each other after the storm.

✚ THE ORGASM DONORS ARE NOW OPEN ✚

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

BONUS：#1. #2. #3. #4. #5. #6. #7. #8. #9. #10. #11. #12.

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an: and the first founding father is done! anyone else hot and bothered rn? 🙈 because i was lowkey so horny every time i wrote for this 😇…i hope you liked donor johnny! let me know what you think! if you hate it please keep it to yourself i can’t handle hate rn bro mark just left nct 😐 ANYWAY, we go back to regular orgasm donor layout in the next stories! and 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 @boosk1es @hyunii0 @PL4NETX1A @soupbinlily @fancypeacepersona​ @jaeminiwrld @Kawaiislutt @mingoovdka @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 @yutal0ver @meowieshibal @hjjjjjjku79999 @82fragilidad @neokoh @serpeverde005 @is4b3ll3s @yowmaman @aurilvs @mango-bear @channie127

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 as 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, releasing your hand, “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

“Jongin, stop!”

Your voice broke the air, and his fist froze mid-motion. When he turned to look at you, the adrenaline in his eyes faded, replaced by a flickering realization as he finally registered the look of pure disappointment on your face. Jongin glanced down at what he’d done—the guy slumped on the floor, blood blooming from his nose, too exhausted and beaten to even keep pace with the fight anymore.

“Man, what did you do!?” he heard from someone else who helped the guy on the floor. 

You didn’t wait for an explanation. You turned and bolted, escaping the campus as fast as your legs could carry you, desperate to get away from him.

Jongin realized the moment he saw you run that he had broken the one promise that mattered. He tried to catch you before you left the school grounds, but you were already gone. 

It wasn’t until later that evening that he showed up at your place, his shame trailing behind him like a shadow.

“Babe… it’s me.” The sound of his knuckles against your front door was hesitant. When you didn’t reply, he knocked again.

“Go away!” Your voice was thick with anger.

Jongin froze on the other side. “Love, please,” he urged, his voice strained. “Just listen to me once.” You could almost hear him dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. “I promise I’ll leave if you don’t want to see me, but please… just once.”

Promises. That was the problem.

You had every intention of keeping that door locked, but a stubborn part of you softened. You sighed before finally pulling the door open, stepping back to give him just enough space to enter.

“Ten minutes,” you said firmly.

Jongin looked stunned, but he didn’t argue. He stepped inside, searching your eyes as he struggled to find the right words.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. The rawness in his tone forced you to look at him. “I know I fucked up. I know I told you the fighting was over, that I was done being impulsive.”

“Then why was there blood on your knuckles today, Jongin?” you asked, your voice rising despite yourself. “Why?”

“Because…” Jongin looked like he wanted to punch the wall, but instead, he curled his fingers into his palms. “He was talking about you… he said things... disgusting things about what he wanted to hook you up. I couldn’t just stand there.”

“I can defend myself,” you snapped. “I’ve been doing it long before you came along. You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I did it because you’re my girl, and… I love you.” He stepped closer, his shadow looming over you.

His shoulders slumped. Jongin could definitely face an entire crowd with his fists up, but he couldn’t survive a single day without you. You were the only person in the world who could disarm him without trying.

Jongin reached for your hands, his touch surprisingly gentle. “When he said your name, I just... I couldn’t handle the thought of him disrespecting you.”

You looked down at his hands. “The promise wasn’t just about the fighting, Jongin.” You finally met his gaze. “I trusted that you were better than that.”

“I am,” he urged, squeezing your fingers. “With you, I am.”

You didn’t pull your hands away from his, but you kept them limp. “Jongin...” Your heart ached at the sight of the cut on his lip and the red mark on his cheekbone, but you forced yourself to stay cold.

His grip on your hands tightened just a fraction. “You’re the only good in my life, and the thought of someone even thinking they could lay a hand on you or speak your name like that…”

“I don’t need a protector,” you muttered, pulling one hand free to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. You stepped back, leaning against the kitchen counter to put more distance between you. “How am I supposed to trust you’ll stay calm next time?”

Jongin followed you, but stopped a few feet away, respecting the boundary you’d drawn. He looked utterly defeated. “You’re right.” He took a shaky breath, his eyes shimmering with a sudden, raw vulnerability. “But you have to believe one thing.”

He stepped into your space then, closing the gap until he was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from his chest. He didn’t grab you; instead, he lowered his head, resting his forehead against your shoulder in a gesture of absolute surrender.

“I could fight a hundred guys like him,” he breathed into the fabric of your shirt, his voice muffled and trembling. “But I can’t fight you. If you tell me to leave now and never come back… I’ll do it, because I can’t stand being the reason you’re unhappy.”

You felt the tension in your shoulders begin to crumble; his entire body was shaking. For Jongin, his pride was everything—and he was laying it all in the dust just for a chance to stay.

You didn’t say a word. Rising up on your tiptoes to close the distance, you cupped his face and met his lips with a soft, deep, and agonizingly slow kiss. Then, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him into you.

Jongin’s arms wound around your waist instantly, his large hands splaying across your back, drawing you flush against his chest. He let you take the lead, his body sagging with a relief so profound it was almost heavy. He followed your rhythm, losing himself in the quiet safety of your touch.

Suddenly, he let out a sharp hiss of pain, his breath hitching against your mouth. The adrenaline that had carried him through the fight had finally vanished, leaving behind the stinging reality of the cut on his lip.

You pulled back just an inch, cupping his face with both hands. As you looked at him, the softness in your eyes sharpened into a look he knew all too well—the one that told him exactly how reckless and foolish he’d been.

“That hurt, didn’t it?” you whispered, your thumbs brushing just beside the bruise on his jaw.

Jongin looked down at you, still reeling from the kiss. He nodded, feeling embarrassed. “But don’t worry… I know it’s my fault.”

You didn’t even let him finish his sentence. Instead, you caught his hand and led him toward the sofa. He followed you silently and compliantly as you pushed him down into the cushions.

“Stay,” you commanded softly before turning to retrieve the first-aid kit.

When you returned, you climbed onto his lap, settling there with the kit balanced between you. The sudden proximity made his breath hitch; he looked utterly embarrassed, his gaze dropping as if he couldn’t quite handle how small he felt under your focused attention.

As you pulled out the antiseptic, you started the lecture. “You realize how many times we’ve had this conversation, right?” you murmured, your voice firm but low. You dipped a cotton pad in the solution and pressed it against the cut on his lip.

Jongin hissed, his entire body tensing as he nearly shut his eyes against the sting. His hands reached out instinctively, bunching the fabric of your hoodie in his fists, gripping it as if it were a lifeline. He didn’t pull away, though. He stayed perfectly still, letting you work even as he winced. You caught the way he was clinging to you, and a small, involuntary smile tugged at your lips, which he didn’t see.

“You’re lucky it didn’t need stitches.” You moved the cotton to the bruise on his cheekbone. “What am I supposed to do with you, Jongin?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice muffled.

When the last of the blood was cleaned away and the ointment was applied, you finally set the kit aside. You cupped his face, tilting his head up until he had no choice but to look at you. Then, you gave him a tiny, gentle peck on his forehead. Then another on his nose. And finally, one on his chin, avoiding the sore spot on his lip.

Under your touch, the last of his defensive walls crumbled. Jongin let out a long, shaky exhale and leaned into your palms, looking up at you with raw, searching eyes.

“Are you… still angry?” His voice was barely audible.

You looked at him for a long beat, then gave a slow, honest nod. “Of course.”

His face fell for a fraction of a second, but you didn’t move away. You weren’t going to lie to him, but you were also certain that you didn’t want him out of your life. Not tonight.

“Your boyfriend’s a dumb, mmh? I... I’m sorry, love.”

As your fingers began to comb through his hair, the tension finally left his body. Jongin loved the rhythmic slide of your fingers against his scalp, the quiet comfort, and the fact that… you were still there.

“Come on,” you said softly, shifting your weight. “Let’s go to bed.”

He opened his eyes wide. “You sure?” he asked softly. “I don’t... I don’t wanna bother you. I know I messed up.”

You met his gaze. “No more fighting, Jongin. Never or it’s over. For real this time.”

“For real,” he promised. The way he squeezed you in his arms made you believe him. “Shall I?” he asked, holding you closer. 

When you nodded, Jongin simply smiled and took you in his arms. He finally took you to bed, feeling completely safe in your arms, knowing this time he won’t disappoint you again.

“Hyung! I really need–” He stops mid-sentence as he registers that there’s someone else on Keeho’s couch, frozen in place like a cartoon character. Then he snaps out of it, lifting a hand in a wave. “Oh hey, Mihwa,” he says easily. “I didn’t know you were here.”

You blink as you stare at him, and it takes a moment for you to process his words. Mihwa? Who in the world is Mihwa? 

“You’ve known me for two years, and you still don’t know my name, Hwang Intak? I’m offended.” You’re teasing, but for some reason Intak begins to look panicked. 

“No, no, of course I do, that’s just –”

“Hey, Tak,” Keeho calls out, interrupting your friend as he steps out of the bathroom from where he’s just showered. He’s using a towel to dry his hair, and you take the distraction of your newly-arrived friend as a blessing, allowing your gaze to linger a bit longer on Keeho than usual. You take note of the way the droplets drip from his wet hair down onto his forehead, your eyes following one drop in particular as it trails all the way down the bridge of his nose, before he’s wiping it away with the towel. He’s changed out of the outfit he’d worn to class – one of your favourite hoodies of his, and jeans – into your ultimate favourite Keeho look: a simple, white tee, and sweats. God, he’s stunning.

“Hey, bro,” Intak returns, and though he’d appeared devastatingly frazzled just a moment before, he seems to have hastily forgotten whatever it was as he brightens. “I really need your help with something.”

Keeho immediately glances over at you, and you can tell he’s about to kick Intak out for your sake. You’ve only come over to study, so it’s not a big deal to postpone it a little, but Keeho has always been extra considerate and attentive when it comes to you. You both love and hate him for it, because it brings up certain feelings that you simply won’t allow yourself to indulge in. 

You shake your head. “It’s okay, we can postpone our studying a bit longer, Kyo,” you say. “I wanted to run to the coffee shop anyway.” 

I also now have to try and process why one of our good mutual friends just called me by someone else’s name when he entered your apartment, is the part you don’t say out loud as you grab your wallet and coat. 

“Grab me a latte!” You hear Intak call out as you close the door behind you.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you!” Comes your childish reply, before you’re off out into the snow.

As you take the roundabout way to the cafe amidst the snow flurries, you can’t help but run though the last few hours in your mind. If you’re honest, you’d been a bit on cloud nine before Intak had come in and promptly brought you back down to earth. 

Keeho had come to meet you on campus after your last class of the day so you could walk back to his place to study. Despite your busy schedules, whenever there’s a chance to spend time together, you jump at the chance — even if it involves sitting next to each other and doing schoolwork. You know the feeling is mutual, and you’ve never doubted it — Keeho loves loud, and doesn’t waste his time on people who don’t love him back. Being his friend is a privilege, and you’ve never taken it for granted.

Because that’s exactly what he is. A friend. 

He’s just so affectionate and funny and warm that you can’t help but wish that all of it meant more than it does. The touches, the glances, the teasing. Especially when sometimes you think that he actually feels it, too.

Like today, on your walk to his place, when it had begun to snow. Keeho had halfheartedly protested as soon as you'd stopped walking and turned to him, looking at him with your brows raised. 

“No way,” he’d said, shaking his head immediately. “Embarrass yourself alone.” But he’d been laughing despite himself, the beginnings of that smile on his face that always gave him away. You’d pouted before tilting your head back and spinning in a circle, only stopping when you felt his hand on your arm.

Then he’d held out both hands, pretending to grumble the whole time, before spinning you around with both hands like some cliche romcom. When you’d stumbled, he’d caught you in his arms mid-fall like the lead in some drama. You’d stared up at him as he’d asked if you were okay, trying to suppress his giggles as he spoke, and you’d been so speechless that all you’d been able to do was nod. When he’d finally pulled you upright, his fingers had continued to hold onto your arms as he gazed down at you, the smile never leaving his face. He’d looked so soft with the snow coming down all around him, sticking to his hair and eyelashes, and you’d been so caught up in the sight of him that when his hand had moved to brush a snowflake off your cheek, it had taken you entirely by surprise. You’re still a little bit mad about the quiet, involuntary noise you’d let out at his gentle touch before you’d pulled away abruptly. 

The walk back after that had been quiet for a while until Keeho had broken the silence by reading you a funny text from his friend, and you’d begun to laugh at the message together. The two of you had quickly returned to normal, and if you’re honest, you’d felt a little hopeful about what it all meant. 

Then Intak came crashing through the door and called you by the wrong name and now you’ve begun to second guess it all again. 

You know Intak has been seeing someone and hasn’t mentioned anyone else in a long time (though he won’t admit he’s smitten), so if it’s not Intak’s partner… Who else could it be but someone Keeho is seeing? You remind yourself that for as much as it breaks your heart, Keeho doesn’t owe you anything, and you continue to trudge through the snow with that reminder weighing heavy on your chest.

Intak is long gone by the time you get back to the apartment. You and Keeho have settled into your routine now, hot chocolates in hand, but even though you’re supposed to be studying, you can only think about one thing.

Who the hell is Mihwa? 

Is it someone Intak had expected to be at Keeho’s house? Is Keeho seeing someone that he’d forgotten to mention? Is he—

“Hey.”

A hand rests on your knee where your leg is curled up under you on the couch, and you glance down to find Keeho looking up at you from where he’s sitting on the floor. He moves his hand from your leg to rest his head on it, but you can still feel the warmth of his palm through your jeans.

“Hi,” you return, and Keeho laughs a little.

“You okay?” His gaze is soft as he gives you a quick onceover. “Are you tired?” He continues to gaze up at you with quiet concern, and you’re reminded just how lucky you are to see him like this. With everyone else, he’s the life of the party — but to you, he’s always been soft underneath all that. You will the butterflies to leave, once and for all. 

Who the hell is Mihwa?

“I think Intak called me by the wrong name earlier,” you finally blurt out.

Keeho’s eyebrows furrow, and you know that’s not at all what he'd been expecting you to say. “What do you mean?”

You figure you might as well get right into it — you’ve started down the road now. “When he came into your apartment, I think he called me by someone else’s name.”

“Oh, that’s weird.” Keeho is quiet for a second. “It could be the person he’s been seeing lately?”

You shake your head. “No, it wasn’t them. I think it was a… Korean name?” 

“I’m really curious now.” Keeho picks up his phone and opens Instagram, and you watch over his shoulder as he begins to search his and Intak’s mutual friends. “You don’t remember what it started with or anything?”

You sink back into the couch. “No, I… I remember.”

Keeho pauses his scrolling to look at you again, and you can tell he’s confused by your stilted responses. “What was it?” He’s being patient, and you know you need to calm the jealous green giant that’s threatening to break out of you before you speak next.

“It was Mihwa.”

It’s so silent after you speak that you think you must have said something completely wrong. Or maybe you’d dreamt what Intak had said? 

“He… what?” 

When Keeho finally speaks and you gain the courage to look at him, you abruptly realize that he looks just as panicked as Intak had… if not more.

“I think that’s what he said?” You begin, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry if I’m butchering it. I figured it was Korean, so if that doesn’t sound familiar, then maybe I said it wrong or —“

“You said it right.” He pauses before repeating softly, “Mihwa.”

“Oh,” you say quietly. “That’s pretty.”

“Yeah.”

It’s suddenly so awkward between you that you think you might die, and you feel a desperate need to fill the silence somehow. “Is that… Is that a common name in Korea?”

Keeho looks pained. “Sort of? It’s a kind of name, yeah.” He stops, and you swear you can see a pink flush beginning to dust across his cheeks. “It can be a name but also a… title of sorts. Sometimes.” He exhales sharply. “It’s a bit hard to explain, but it’s… it can be a term of endearment.”

You’ve never been more confused in your life. “Oh,” you say, a little dumbly. “Like honey? Or darling?”

Keeho, cool and collected Keeho, suddenly looks almost as if he’s going to pass out. “Um, yeah. Essentially.”

Why the hell would Intak have called you that? Holy shit, does Intak have a crush on you? Your head is spinning. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” is all Keeho offers as he stands up, shifting so that he’s sitting next to you on the couch. You attempt to sift through your thoughts, trying your best to gather them into something even semi-coherent, but you’re struggling. 

“So if it’s not someone that you know, then I guess I’ll just… text and ask Intak why he called me that?” You say slowly, mind racing. “You know I don’t see him as more than a friend, so I guess I should be straight up with him? It’s weird, though, I thought he was super into the person he’s seeing. I never thought that he—“

“I’m going to kill him.” Your eyes widen as Keeho interrupts you mid sentence. He runs a hand through his blond hair before he leans forward, his elbows on his knees.

“What? Why?”

“Mihwa is your Korean name,” he says abruptly, straight and to the point, and now you’re officially dumbfounded. What the hell is he talking about? 

“My… what?”

“Mihwa is what I call you in Korean.”

You blink. Keeho hasn’t looked at you directly in minutes, and if you’re honest, it’s making you panic a little. “Okay,” you say slowly, still waiting for something to make sense. “Is that a big deal?”

“Well, when you look up what it means, I’m fucked.”

Your breath catches, and your heart is in your throat now. “What are you talking about, Keeho?”

Keeho inhales, and then suddenly he’s looking at you so seriously that you’re rendered incapable of all thought. “‘Beautiful flower’,” he murmurs, his voice quiet. “Mihwa.”

The room is silent as you let the words sink in. Keeho seems to have steeled himself as he holds your gaze, and you feel like maybe you should look away so you can breathe, but you can’t.

“Beautiful flower?” You repeat, your voice quiet. “Me?”

“You.” He says it matter-of-factly, almost as if he’s trying to make sure you can’t argue. 

“Oh,” you finally manage. All you can think of to say next is, “Is that why my name has a flower next to it on your phone?”

You watch as Keeho’s mouth begins to turn up at the sides despite how red he’s gotten, and you’re comforted by the beginnings of that smile you’ve come to know well. The sight of it makes you feel warm all over, even though you’re not any less confused by what’s happening. “Yes.” 

“But it’s not… it’s not a bad thing, right?”

It’s a bit of a ridiculous question, because you know it’s not — how can the term ‘beautiful flower’ be anything but wonderful? — but you’re still trying to figure out what exactly is going on. Why does he call you that? Why has he never told you? 

A full smile has made its way onto Keeho's face now. It’s a welcome sight, serving to break up some of the tension that’s fallen between you. “Remember how I said it was a term of endearment?”

“Right,” you recall. You bite your lip. “Why would you keep it a secret, then?”

“Because I’m pretty sure telling your good friend that you think they’re cute is against the rules.”

You’re sure you must be dreaming. 

“I believe the word you used to describe me was ‘beautiful’, actually,” is what finally comes out of your mouth, and you’re surprised by how smooth it sounds. Smooth is definitely not how you’re feeling on the inside.

Keeho’s face brightens up lightning fast at your teasing remark. He laughs, though it’s a bit strangled, nodding as he replies, “You are.” He lets his eyes wander across your face for a second, wide smile still on his lips. “Beautiful, I mean.”

Neither of you speak for a moment. 

“You mean that?” You ask softly, and Keeho’s face grows serious again. He nods. 

“I do.”

You know you’re not misreading this — there’s no way. And you’re beginning to think that you hadn’t misread everything else, either.

“Well,” you begin quietly, “How can I say ‘I think you’re really cute too’ in Korean?” God, you love Keeho’s smile — especially when it’s directed at you. 

“Can I teach you later? Because right now, I think I need to kiss you.”

You can’t help the surprised laugh that leaves you at his words. Your heart is racing, and you feel lightheaded as he moves closer, but you manage, “You need to, huh?”

Keeho nods, and though he’s trying to be serious, he can barely contain his smile. “Desperately.”

“What will happen if you don’t?” 

The breathiness of your voice is giving you away, but you find that you don’t care at all. Not when he’s pulling you ever closer to him with a hand on your waist, until he’s so close that you can barely think. 

“I’ll die,” he murmurs.

You let out a snort, something so indelicate for the moment you’re in, and you’re about to respond with a witty remark but then he’s kissing you, and you don’t give a damn about what you were going to say. 

Because Keeho is laughing against your mouth and you’re lost. He kisses you hard, a hand finding your jaw, fingers cupping the side of your face. He’s smiling and kissing you again and again and you think you never want him to stop. 

When you finally break apart, you can’t find it in you to open your eyes — not yet. Keeho’s forehead falls to rest against yours, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Mihwa,” comes his soft murmur, and your eyes open at that. He pulls back to look at you, fingers brushing back and forth against your jaw, and you lean forward to kiss him again, long and soft and slow. When you pull away, he‘s absolutely beaming. 

And all you can think to say is, “You’d better not call me by my birth name ever again.”

Phew - here we go! Tbh, I doubt I'll be posting very frequently as I am very rarely actually on Tumblr anymore, and writing has felt like a chore for a while now... But I liked this one, and thought someone out there might like to read it. <3

Kun had always been the type to think things through, to consider every possibility before making a decision. It was one of the many things you admire about him, but tonight, it was the very thing that made him feel so distant.

He sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders tense, fingers intertwined as he stared down at the floor. You could see the war waging inside him—the quiet pull of doubt gnawing at the edges of his usual composure.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you said softly, taking a seat beside him.

A humorless chuckle left his lips. “I’ve been thinking.”

“That much is obvious,” you teased, nudging him lightly. But he didn’t smile. That was when you knew—this wasn’t just any fleeting worry. This was something deeper.

Kun exhaled, rubbing his face with his hands before finally turning to meet your gaze. “I feel like I’m holding you back.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “You deserve someone who can give you everything. Someone who isn’t constantly working, who doesn’t come home exhausted, who doesn’t—” He hesitated, his voice thick with emotion. “Who doesn’t make you wait for him.”

Your heart clenched at the weight of his words. Kun was always so selfless, always thinking about what was best for everyone else, but right now… he was breaking his own heart with assumptions that weren’t even true.

“Kun,” you murmured, reaching for his hand. “Where is this coming from?”

He let out a slow breath, thumb brushing over your knuckles absentmindedly. “I see the way your friends talk about their relationships—the spontaneous dates, the carefree adventures, the way they don’t have to plan weeks in advance just to see each other. And I just… I don’t want you to look back one day and regret choosing me.”

You squeezed his hand, shaking your head. “Kun, look at me.” He hesitated before lifting his gaze, vulnerability etched in his expression.

“I don’t care about spontaneous dates. I don’t need extravagant trips or nights out just for the sake of it. I need you. And if that means planning around your schedule, waiting a little longer just to be with you, then I’ll do it. Because I love you, and nothing about this—about us—feels like missing out.”

His lips parted slightly, as if trying to find the right words, but for once, he seemed at a loss.

You cupped his face gently, your thumbs tracing soothing circles against his skin. “You’re not holding me back, Kun. You are what I choose, every single time.”

His breath hitched, and before you knew it, he was pulling you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around you as if he was afraid you’d slip away, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I don’t deserve you.”

You smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You deserve everything, Kun. And I’m not going anywhere.”

"hold on, honey. just let me finish this thought," he muttered, his voice raspy from a long day of vocal practice. he reached up and absentmindedly patted your ankle, a purely instinctive gesture of affection that usually would have made you melt.

but today, you felt like being annoying. you’d been sitting here for two hours while he lived in his own world, and you wanted him back. you wanted to see that sharp, focused expression break.

you set your phone face down on the cushion and sat up straight. you took a deep breath, schooling your features into something heavy and solemn.

"seungmin," you said, your voice dropping to a low, serious tone. "can you put the pen down? i actually... i really need to talk to you."

that worked. the scratching stopped mid-stroke. seungmin paused, his head tilting slightly as he processed your tone. he slowly set the pen on his notebook and turned around, leaning his elbows on the seat of the couch next to your hip.

he had his glasses on, the ones that made him look like a studious college student, and his hair was a bit messy from him running his hands through it. he looked at you for a long second, his eyes searching yours.

"you need to talk to me?" he repeated. then, a playful smile quirked the corner of his mouth. "is this about the half-gallon of milk i finished this morning? because i told you, i'll replace it."

you didn't laugh. you didn't even crack a smile. you just stared at him, your hands folded tightly in your lap.

seungmin’s grin faltered. he sat up a bit straighter, his playful energy dissipating. "okay... not the milk. what’s up? you look like you’re about to tell me the cat ran away, and we don't even have a cat."

"i'm being serious, min," you said, your voice trembling just a little—a nice touch, you thought. "i've been sitting here thinking. for a while, actually. about everything. about you... and about me. about us."

seungmin’s expression shifted instantly. the teasing light in his eyes went out, replaced by a guarded, sharp focus. he shifted his weight, sitting fully on his heels now, giving you his undivided attention.

"about us?" he asked softly. "what about us?"

you looked away, staring at a random spot on the rug. "i just... i don't think this is working anymore. i think i want to break up."

the silence that followed was heavy. you expected him to jump up, to start asking why, to maybe get a little frantic or even teary-eyed. seungmin was usually so stoic, but he loved you with a quiet, fierce intensity. you were waiting for the "please don't say that" or the "what did i do?"

instead, seungmin just looked at you. he didn't move. he didn't blink. he reached out and slowly closed his notebook, placing it neatly on top of his stack of papers.

"oh," he said. his voice was flat. "wow."

he looked down at his hands, picking at a stray thread on his sweater. when he looked back up, his face was unreadable. it was that cold, professional mask he wore when he was delivering critiques in the recording studio.

"honestly?" he started, his voice steady. "i'm actually glad you brought that up."

your heart gave a weird, uncomfortable little thump. wait, what?

"i've been thinking the same thing lately," seungmin continued, his tone clinical, almost relieved. he leaned back against the couch, looking at the ceiling. "we’ve been together a long time, and i think... maybe we’ve just outgrown each other. i’ve been feeling the spark die out for a few months now, but i didn't know how to tell you without hurting you. i’m glad you had the courage to say it first."

your breath hitched. this wasn't the script. "you... you've been thinking the same thing?"

"yeah," he said, nodding slowly. he finally looked at you, and his eyes were so cold it made your skin crawl. "it happens, right? people drift apart. your interests, my schedule... maybe we were never really meant to be a long-term thing. it was fun while it lasted, though. i really appreciate you being honest. it saves us both a lot of time."

he started to stand up, as if he were about to go to the kitchen to make a snack now that the chore of your relationship was finished.

panic flared in your chest, hot and sharp. "wait, seungmin—wait."

he paused, looking down at you with a polite, distant curiosity. "yeah?"

"did... did i do something?" your voice was no longer fake-serious; it was genuinely shaking. the reality of what he was saying was crashing down on you like a wave. "i didn't know you felt like that. i thought things were fine. i can... i can change stuff, min. if it’s about your schedule, i’ll be more patient. i'll be better."

your eyes started to sting, the tears welling up before you could stop them. this was supposed to be a joke. he wasn't supposed to agree.

"i'm so sorry," you choked out, a tear finally spilling over and rolling down your cheek. "i didn't mean to be distant or whatever i did. please, i don't actually—"

you stopped, a sob catching in your throat. you looked up at him, your vision blurred, feeling like the floor had been ripped out from under you. you were ready to beg. you were ready to do anything to take back the last five minutes.

but when you looked at seungmin, he wasn't moving toward the door. he was frozen.

his expression of pure nonchalance had shattered into a thousand pieces. his eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open, and he looked absolutely horrified.

"hey," he breathed, his voice cracking. "hey, no. no, no, no. wait."

he dropped back down to his knees, his hands hovering over yours, unsure if he should touch you. "baby, stop. don't cry. please don't cry."

you sobbed again, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "why are you apologizing? you said you wanted to break up. you said the spark was gone."

seungmin let out a sound that was half-groan, half-gasp. and then, to your utter confusion, a small, stressed laugh escaped him. then another one.

you froze, your hand still halfway to your eye. "w-what? why are you laughing?"

seungmin covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry. i'm a literal monster. i'm not laughing at you, i'm laughing because i'm an idiot."

he looked up, his eyes now bright with a mix of amusement and genuine guilt. "i knew you were kidding, okay? i knew from the second you used that serious voice. you've just... i mean, you've kind of got a tell. you always do that when you're trying to mess with me."

you stared at him, your brain struggling to catch up. "you... you knew?"

"yes." he nodded, clearly trying to stifle another round of laughter, reaching out to finally grab your hands, squeezing them tight. "i was just trying to give you a taste of your own medicine! i thought we were playing a game of chicken! i didn't think you’d actually believe me that fast!"

he reached up, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear. his touch was warm and familiar, a stark contrast to the coldness he’d been radiating moments ago.

"i love you so much it's actually annoying," he whispered, his laughter dying down into a soft, repentant smile. "the spark isn't gone. the spark is a giant bonfire. i was just being a smart-ass because you caught me off guard while i was working."

the silence returned, but this time it wasn't heavy—it was vibrating with your mounting indignation. the panic was receding, replaced by a very specific, very sharp heat in your chest.

you reached over, grabbed the decorative throw pillow next to you, and whacked him squarely in the chest with it.

"are you fucking with me?" you yelled, though it came out a bit watery. "that is so not funny! seungmin! i thought you were being for real! you scared me so bad, my heart literally stopped!"

seungmin took the hit, grinning as he caught the pillow on the second swing. "well, in my defense, you’re always pulling this shit on me! 'seungmin, i accidentally deleted your vocal recordings file,' 'seungmin, i broke your favorite mug.' it kind of serves you right."

"those were harmless!" you shoved his face away as he tried to lean in to kiss your cheek. "this was emotional warfare! no. get away from me."

"come on," he coaxed, his voice dropping into that sweet, honeyed tone he knew you couldn't resist. "i'm sorry. i panicked when you started crying. i felt like the worst person on earth. let me make it up to you?"

he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your temple.

"no," you said, though you were starting to lose the battle against your own smile. you pushed his shoulder, sliding further back onto the couch. "no kisses. you're on a kiss ban. for two weeks."

seungmin’s jaw dropped. "two weeks? for a joke that you started?"

"three weeks," you corrected, pointing a finger at him. "and you’re sleeping on the couch."

"the couch?" he looked around at the modest sofa like it was a bed of nails. "baby, please. it’s way too short for me. my legs will be hanging off the edge. i'll have back problems. i won't be able to dance. do you want to ruin my career?"

"the couch for the next two days," you said, trying to keep your voice stern.

seungmin sighed dramatically, flopping his head onto your lap. he looked up at you through his lashes, looking every bit like the puppy his fans compared him to. "fine. the couch. but can i at least have a pillow? and maybe a hug? a romantic, 'i-don't-actually-want-to-break-up' hug?"

you looked down at him, at the way his glasses were slightly crooked and the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the room that mattered. the last of your anger evaporated.

you sighed, running your fingers through his hair, untangling the mess he’d made earlier. "you're so annoying."

"but you love me," he murmured, closing his eyes as he leaned into your touch.

"unfortunately."

seungmin reached up, taking your hand and kissing your palm, his eyes opening just enough to catch yours. "i really was kidding, you know. i’m never letting you go. you're stuck with the sarcasm and the milk-stealing for the rest of your life."

"i know," you whispered, leaning down to press a quick, soft kiss to his forehead. "now get off me and finish your song. you have a couch to prepare for later."

seungmin groaned, but he was smiling (the smile of man who knew he'd be able to talk his girlfriend into letting him sleep on the bed) as he sat back up and reached for his pen. the apartment settled back into its peaceful hum, the sun finally disappearing below the horizon, leaving the two of you in the warm, quiet glow of the lamp and the absolute certainty that neither of you was going anywhere.

🏷️ ( general ) : @beautifulsharkgoatee @susu6944 @emilywjinnie @emotionalstrawberries @babythisisourcinema @maliatate96 @sapphirewaves @iconicallyher @fussel9913 @yawwni @inlovewithstraykids @unlikelypainterpeacekitten @foppishitudinality @gadriezmannsgirl @straystar-8 @narratedforbutterflies @yawngnab

He seemed so well put together and dominant to everyone around you, with an aura that practically screamed I’m in charge, and you fit the bill perfectly too of the subservient, sweet and innocent girlfriend, happy following him along to every one of his work events, and god, was there a lot of them, but that’s what you get for dating a CEO, polite to all of his staff and other stakeholders, and you got along with all of his friends and family too.

Little did they know though, who you were and who he was when that front door shut and the facade crumbled with nobody else to see but you. There was a whole other side to him, and to your relationship, the complete dynamic switch was one that you were sure nobody else would ever believe, not that you would tell them anyway.

“You’re such a pretty boy, Junmyeonnie,” You coo, pressing a finger to the tip of his nose, giggling as he scrunches his face up, “You drive me insane with that perfect face of yours.”

He can’t hide his smile at the sudden compliment, blushing and looking away with his eyes despite not being able to turn his head with you holding his cheek. He flusters so easily, pathetic almost but in the most beautiful way. He bites his lip with a slight nervousness, though he knows what is to come, he still acts curious, intrigued, and innocent.

You stand back to admire him under the dimmed lights in your bedroom, his shirt is a little dirty as he has spent the last hour in the kitchen baking your favourite chocolate chip cookies, a surprise for you to come home to after another arduous day at work. You had wiped the chocolate from his lips onto his shoulder, that shirt will need to be washed, but he would not be wearing it for much longer anyway.

“I want you,” You confess suddenly, desire overtaking you in a way that could only be described as primal, “Myeon, I need you.”

Without a second's pause, you are on him. Pushing him back toward the bed, hands already under his shirt to tug it upwards, desperate to free him, just as much as he is to be moulded into whatever it is that you desire today, and as you pull his shirt over his head, you have that decision made for you with your eyes on his sweet, soft skin.

“Bend over for me, baby,” You urge him once you are both fully undressed, “You’re going to be a good boy for me today, aren’t you?”

He does his signature pout, gaze soft and glassy, nodding absentmindedly as he easily falls further and further into the subspace you have trained him to enter. You guide him, though he knows what to do, onto his stomach and then up onto his knees so that you can admire him from the back, forever in awe at his perfection. Warming him up is easy too, ass play is his favourite, and he is always prepared as you fucking love it too. The way that he whimpers and whines and begs you for more, praising you for everything that you do for him, though outside of the bedroom it is him that does it all.

A pretty pink, sparkly dildo is what you wear attached to your strap today. You have him on his back now, so that you can watch his face as you enter him, slowly filling him from tip to base, his face scrunching up adorably as he adjusts to the stretch, in comparison with your fingers, this is much larger, but he doesn’t want you to stop.

“You’re doing so well honey,” You murmur, your own words a little slurred as the vibrator attachment on the strap presses against your clit, “You love it when I fuck you, don’t you?”

Junmyeon is more enthusiastic now, his breathing syncs with yours, in time with your thrusts as you make pace with a steady rhythm. Each movement is easier than the last as he relaxes into it, soon overcome with pleasure, hips rolling back into you to take you in deeper, needing the feeling of your cock against his prostate, and with the angle you are hitting it every time.

“I love it,” He replies without a second thought, words strangled through a moan, “More, please, don’t stop.”

You press a hand to his lower stomach, right above where his rock hard cock rests against, so that you can feel the way his stomach bulges as you fuck him, you are fucking filthy.

“I won’t stop, I promise,” You tell him, “I’m not going to stop until I get you pregnant, my sweet boy.”

His eyes roll back now, letting out the most pitiful moan as your hand presses down harder, “I need it, I need you to knock me up,” He mumbles, cheeks burning red as he makes his confession, “Fill me up, mark me, claim me, I’m yours.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” You ask him, “You’ll look so pretty all swollen, growing my baby inside that little tummy of yours.”

They are insane, the words that come out of your mouth, but Junmyeon likes them, he likes them a lot. The empty threat and impossible scenario has him reeling,and the way that you feel inside him has him falling apart, as you begin to lose yourself too.

“I want it,” He nods again, “Please, please knock me up, want your babies, need them, I need you to make me yours forever, ruin me so nobody else would ever want to touch.”

He knows the script better than you do, though this is his fantasy after all, you only fell for it after he admitted how badly it turned him on, and you ended up wanting it just as much too. You let your hand slip down now, gripping his cock with only slight pressure just so you can feel the way that it begins to twitch as his orgasm nears, needing to make sure that he is not far ahead from where you are at, though the vibrator against your clit has you threatening to fall apart even sooner.

You go to open your mouth to tell him he may finish, when he beats you to it, his release happening suddenly, how the fuck did you miss that? in hot bursts as his load shoots right up to his neck. The pleasure from an accidentally too-hard hit against his prostate made him come early, though the picture of him pathetically finishing under you is just enough to push you over too. With continued empty threats, you finish too, thighs shaking while you try and hold yourself up, increasingly more and more difficult to thrust into him, although it is your hand that milks him dry until he grabs you by the wrist to hold you still, letting you spend the last moments of your peak just riding the vibrations from the attachment on your toy.

“Fuck,” You gasp, breathless as you slowly pull out from him, your free hand working to take your strap off, throwing it aside as you fall down onto your back beside him, “Every time is better than the last, I swear.”

Junmyeon turns his head to look at you, his expression is blissful, dazed and sleepy, the way that it always is after a session as intense as this.

“I hope you’ll still be saying this fifty years from now,” He murmurs, “I’m sure I will be.”

And because you are you, unable to take confessions of forever without panicking, you turn the tone with a comment that leaves Junmyeon’s jaw dropped.

“Maybe by then science will have gotten us so far that I will actually be able to knock you up.”

———