#stay

• Hyunjin spends weeks easing you into the idea, never pushing, always checking in with soft whispers during movie nights on the couch. When you finally confess your nervousness about being a virgin, his long fingers intertwine with yours, eyes sparkling with reassurance as he kisses your knuckles. "We'll go at your pace, baby. I just want to make you feel good."

• He dims the bedroom lights, lights a vanilla candle for a soothing scent, and lays out soft towels on the bed, explaining everything beforehand—no surprises. He strips slowly first, revealing his lean, toned body, cock already half-hard and curving slightly upward, veins tracing the length, to normalize it for you.

• He starts with endless kisses, lips brushing yours feather-light at first, then deepening as your mouth opens for his tongue to slide in, tasting sweet like the strawberry lip balm he knows you love. His hands roam your clothed body, thumbs circling your nipples through your shirt until they pebble. "Can I take this off?" he murmurs against your lips, waiting for your nod before peeling your top away, bra following. He stares in awe at your bare breasts, palming them gently, rolling nipples between fingers. "So pretty," he breathes, lowering to suck one into his warm mouth, tongue flicking the tip while his hand kneads the other.

• Lays you back on pillows, trailing kisses down your neck, collarbone, sucking faint marks that won't bruise. He unhooks your jeans, sliding them off with your panties, exposing your untouched pussy—pink folds glistening slightly from arousal. "You're already wet for me," he says softly, not mocking, just amazed, parting your thighs with care. His breath ghosts over your clit before his tongue flattens, licking a slow stripe up your slit, savoring your taste. You gasp, and he pauses. "Too much?" Only resuming when you shake your head, then circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, gentle suction drawing whimpers from you.

• He grabs lube from the nightstand—"Just in case," he explains—coating two fingers generously. One dips into your entrance first, shallow thrusts as his mouth returns to your clit, humming vibrations. "Relax, breathe with me," he coaches, free hand stroking your thigh. When you're rocking against his hand, he adds the second finger, scissoring slowly to stretch your tight walls, curling to brush that sensitive spot inside. Your hips buck; he pins them gently. "Feels good? Tell me if you want more or less." He builds you to your first orgasm like this, pussy clenching around his fingers, juices coating his palm as you cry out his name.

• After your first orgasm he kneels up, guiding your hand to his cock—thick, seven inches, silky skin over steel hardness, precum beading at the slit. "Touch me however you want," he encourages, showing you how to stroke from base to tip, thumb swiping the head. Your innocent grip makes him groan low, hips twitching. He teaches you to lick the tip, tongue darting out to taste his salty precum, then taking the head into your mouth. "Just like that—fuck, your mouth is heaven." He doesn't thrust, letting you set the pace, fingers carding through your hair tenderly.

• He positions you on your back, knees drawn up, or suggests you on top for control—"You decide how deep." Lubed cock nudges your folds, sliding through them first to coat himself in your wetness. "Look at me," he says, locking eyes as the head breaches you, inching in slow, pausing at every gasp. Your walls flutter around the intrusion, stretching for his girth. "So tight—breathe, baby, you're doing amazing." Halfway in, he stills completely, kissing you deeply until you relax, then sinks the rest, balls resting against your ass.

• Buried deep, he grinds first, clit rubbing his pubic bone, building pleasure without overwhelming you. Thrusts start shallow, pulling out to the tip before sliding back, letting you feel every ridge and vein dragging your insides. "Does it hurt?" he checks constantly, adjusting angles—finding the one that makes your eyes roll back. His pace stays unhurried, deep rolls of hips hitting your g-spot precisely, one hand interlacing fingers with yours, the other thumbing your clit in circles. Sweat beads on his forehead, long hair falling into his eyes as he watches your face for every reaction.

• Hyunjin prioritizes your orgasms, whispering praises nonstop—"Your pussy feels perfect gripping me," "Cum for me again, let go." When you clench signaling your peak, he angles to grind harder there, free hand pinching your nipple. Your release milks him, walls pulsing; he moans beautifully, but holds back his own. "One more? For me?" Flipping to spoon if you want closeness, arm around your waist, cock slipping back in from behind, hand dipping to rub your clit while nipping your earlobe.

• Only after your second orgasm does he chase his own, thrusts turning firmer but still controlled, balls drawing tight. "Gonna cum inside—okay?" Your nod has him burying deep, cock throbbing as hot spurts flood your pussy, mixing with your cream. He grinds through it, prolonging both highs, until oversensitive twitches make you both shudder. Pulls out slow, watching his cum leak from your puffy hole, thumb gently pushing some back in with a soft, "Gotta keep you full of me."

• He doesn't let go, wrapping you in his arms, kissing tears or sweat from your cheeks. Fetches warm washcloths to clean between your legs tenderly, avoiding soreness. "You were incredible," he murmurs, massaging your thighs, offering water from a bottle he keeps bedside. Cuddles under blankets, your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. He talks softly about how beautiful you looked, how he loves every sound you made, reassuring no regrets.

• Later, spooning with legs tangled, he asks detailed questions—"What felt best? Anything uncomfortable?" Listens intently, promising to improve next time. Draws a bath if you're sore, joining to wash your hair, fingers scalp-massaging shampoo in. Plays your favorite playlist softly, turning it into lazy makeout that doesn't lead to more unless you initiate.

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And sure enough Chan pulled up 4 hours later.

You heard the car in the driveway, door slamming shut, and the frantic sound of keys at the door.

You were in the bed, back facing the door. Hand laid out over your stomach caressing the 6 month bump you had grown once again.

The tears ate your face were warm and hot. Small sniffles fell from you with you shoulder shaking every so slightly.

By the time Chan had reached their room he realized you did it without him.

Dinner, bath time, and the light kiss on their forehead before turning the light out.

God did his fucking heart hurt. The walk up the stairs felt daunting and painful. Like he knew exactly what was waiting for him.

But he didn’t expect the lights to be out and your back facing towards the door.

He listened closely for your soft snores but instead was met with heartbreaking sniffles.

His heart dropped, he rushed over to your side. Eyes scanning your face. Pleading almost begging you to say the first word. But all you did was turn to the other side.

Well, attempted to.

Chan let out a slight chuckle, small grin spreading across his face. Even in these moments you were so, yourself, and he loved that about you.

In the end you just gave up. Dropping the anger facade, you reached out your hand silently asking for help to get up.

Chan held a small smile. the dipples you loved so deeply popping through.

“I’m still mad at you.” your voice was low,tired Chan knew it was because of him.

Instead of responding he put his hand behind your back while the other held yours

Pulling you up and placing a gentle peck on your head. Then the palm of your hand, placing it on his cheek. Muscle memory kicking in you caress it.

“I know baby girl, I’m so sorry. I promised I wouldn’t let work get in the way and i did. But I swear to you and our beautiful babies, it won’t happen again.” he said the words so lightly. Almost like a soft kiss on one’s heart.

You didn’t respond with words. But brought him down into a kiss. Lips molding together, creating an atmosphere with just you two.

The kiss turned into long intense pecks. His hand moved down to your bump. Large hand laid across rubbing small circles with his thumb.

He broke the kiss, and moved down to where his hand laid placing feather kisses along the skin.

“I won’t make eomma stress anymore okay? I know it makes both you hungry.” he whispered to the bump.

You smacked his head lightly. He feigned a hurt expression, shooting his hand up to hold the stop you just abused.

His face held no true hurt, but instead a smile.Knowing he would do everything with yoh over and over again.

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lil something cuz ik i haven’t posted in forever 💔💔