half plastic

21. too many fandoms. writing tag for my self-indulgent scenarios.

[o2byjunmyeon]

hi! i write for groups i like. below is a collection of all the groups and their members i've written for so far :)

all works: 🖋️;o2byjunmyeon

exo

minseok

junmyeon | yixing

baekhyun | chanyeol

kyungsoo

jongin | sehun

seventeen

soonyoung | wonwoo

mingyu

hansol

disclaimers:

i don't write for chen. exo is ot9 forever but i don't write for him because...i find it hard to write for a married man fhjskhd. there's other exo writers who do, so please check them out!

requests are open! since i'm currently writing small drabbles, i'd be happy to try whatever you'd like me to :)

i don't write smut, mainly because i just don't think i'm good enough at it. besides, i'm way too fond of fluff to be writing anything else.

[yeollieayheehoo]

Jigsaw Puzzle

Summary: The two of you were made to fit together

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (female)

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst 

Rating:  PG 

Warnings: minor mention of alcohol use

Word Count: 2.8K

This really isn’t your scene.

You adore your friends, how they make sure to invite you to things, even if they know you’ll more than likely turn down the offer. Which is probably why they just said it would be asleep over tonight and failed to mention the major rager they had planned.

It’s not that you’re straight edge or anything like that. In all honesty, it’s just that you’re too shy, too socially awkward, find your personality too quiet in the midst of the Olympian sized ones in the other room.

So instead, you snuck away, curled up on the twin side top bunk of your friends’ younger sisters’ room. It’s quiet, or well, as quiet as it could be with the music phasing through the walls like a ghost. You know that your friend has chosen to play Primary in an attempt to lull you out of your hiding hold, but you cannot bring yourself out of the safety you’ve found in the covers.

You know the majority of everyone outside of this room, see them on campus and in class. They call you a part of their group, make sure to include you in everything they can, to purposely ask you things so you never feel excluded. Especially Chanyeol.

He asks you questions the most, wide eyes always on your face as you spoke, like he was memorizing your entire being. Maybe it was because it took him an entire semester to learn your name.

The day he finally said your name without having to ask first was the day you realized you were undeniably in love with him. It was the day you realized that somewhere between asking you questions and bringing your hands to his mouth to warm them when you complained of being cold, between they way he would pull your earbuds out of your ears to replace them with his own anytime he wanted to share a song with you and the way his face lights up when he sees you, that you know you’ve fallen for him.

You know he’s out there, can hear the bass of his laughter over the bass of the music, perhaps because your ears are attuned to it. You can almost see him, black snapback with some vape company he doesn’t even know on it, ears sticking out, smile the brightest thing in the room. You know he’s making rounds, secret handshakes being exchanged, hugs distributed, inside jokes shared. It makes you sigh in disappointment for yourself.

You know that if you were to join the party, they would welcome you fondly, would pull you into hugs of your own, know someone would pull you along with them so you were never alone, know they would go out of their way to keep you included.

Because they understand.

They understand your anxiety, your social uneasiness. They take it in stride and work hard to make sure you knew you were wanted, to make sure you knew you were their friend.

And you couldn’t even join the party.

You sigh again, burying yourself in the covers, trying to make yourself less of a mouse.

You don’t know how long you stay like this, trying to will a dandelion into a tree, but when you hear the door open you freeze.

“C’mon kid. Let’s get you in bed.”

“Yeol, I may have overdone it.”

“You think so?” Chanyeols voice is teasing as he helps Sehun into the bed below you. “But lucky for you, I’m partied out, so I’m on Hunnie duty.”

There’s no response from Sehun and you know from the soft snores below you that he’s passed out. You can hear Chanyeol sigh, a soft sound before you hear movement, what sounds like jeans against carpet. You’re careful to stay silent as you peak over the guard rail to find him stretched out on the floor, elbow over his eyes.

You know from experience that the carpet is uncomfortable and the floor unforgiving. You close your eyes and muster up every ounce of courage you’ve been channeling all night.

“There’s room up here, if you don’t want to sleep on the floor?”

“Y/N? I didn’t know you were here.”

“Ah, yeah. I didn’t know there was going to be a party. I was just told it was a sleep over. I probably wouldn’t have come if I had known.”

“You could have stayed with me out there, you know I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“I know, but you know how I am. Can’t make a soloist out of a background singer.”

“You sound like Professor Harris.”

“Ah yeah, I got it from her. It’s what she told me.”

“Wait, I thought you were an English major?” It’s at this that he moves his arm, leaning on the elbow instead, looking up at you.

“Oh, I am. But I was a music major first semester.”

“Why did you switch?”

“Because of that.”

The conversation falls silent at this. The music has stopped in the living room and you aren’t sure if it’s because the party has ended or if everyone has passed out. You’re chewing your bottom lip, trying to figure out what else to say when Chanyeols face appears beside you.

“It doesn’t look like there’s a lot of room up here.”

“Oh, uh, here.” You scoot to the other side of the bed, showing him the space left. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just didn’t want you to sleep on the floor. It’s up to you.”

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make yourself small.” He tilts his head at you and you know your face is red. You shrug, unable to form words. It’s the first time someone has ever asked you that and you aren’t sure how to say you were taught to be neither seen nor heard.

“Let me empty my pockets.” He moves back and you can hear his wallet and keys against the dresser. “Is it going to bother you if I take my jeans off?”

“Not if it won’t bother you that mine are.” He grins and looks at you, something you don’t recognize painting his features. “That was funny.”

“Thanks. I channeled my inner you.” You can’t help but giggle as Chanyeol climbs the ladder. He’s’ only on the second rung and his head is already touching the ceiling. “How the hell did you get up here?”

“There wasn’t anyone else up here when I was trying.” Chanyeol huffs, and ducks as he climbs one more rung before slinging his leg over the guard rail and rolling into the bed beside you. You cover your mouth to keep from laughing any louder when Sehun moves below you. You think you’ve woken him until his snores resume.

“So, I’m up here. What should we do?” He’s on side, head propped up on his elbow as he looks at you.

“I really only called you up here so I could sacrifice you to the moon.”

“Sorry, the moon and I aren’t on the best of terms right now, but I’ll accept Satan.”

You hum to yourself in fake deliberation. “You’re too pretty to go to Satan.”

“Did you just call me pretty?”

“I did.”

“I’m flattered.”

“So how did you know about professor Harris?”

“I had her for a music elective.”

“Aren’t you a business major?”  You shift in the bed, turning on your side as well to face him.

“Yeah, it was required.” He shrugs.

“What kind of business?”

“Jongin and I have had a dream to open a record studio since we were freshmen in high school. I want to produce, but I don’t really need to go to school for something I’m already good at.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to produce.”

“That’s because I’m always asking you questions about yourself. Speaking of, why an English major?”

“I want to write. I’ve been told I have a way with words.”

Chanyeol grins and you know what’s going to come out of his mouth before he even says it. “You don’t talk much though.”

“I do too. I’m just not great with crowds.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem talking to me.”

“It’s cause you’re pretty.” You grin and bat your eyelashes.

“Lucky me then.”

It’s easy to talk to you like this Chanyeol finds. Outside of crowds, you transform into another person, one who’s all smiles, words and unhindered thoughts and Chanyeol finds himself getting lost in them easily. His eyes are on your lips as you speak, enthralled by the way they form syllables, hypnotized by the spell they unknowingly cast upon him.

It’s addicting, listening to you talk like this. Chanyeol can see the notes of your voice as they touch his ears, the soft scales climbing and falling down the lines on the music staff and he finds himself composing a song of it.

He grins at the realization, that it’s you. You’re addicting.

“Yeol? Are you okay?”

“What song is on your mind right now?”

“Nineteen by Tegan and Sara.” It says more than you know. It tells him things words cannot say, tells him things about you that you cannot bring yourself to vocalize. He can feel his heartbeat quicken and he chews on his inner cheek as he tries to subdue it, as he tries to figure out if you know that he has a playlist with your name on it, that song appearing twice. He wonders if you listen to it the same way he does, your face painted over the lyrics, senses drowned in you although you are no where near.

“What about you?”

“Are You Gonna Be My Girl.”

It’s the question that’s been on his mind for a while now. He wonders if you know that he asks you everything he can think of because your voice calls to him like a siren song, wonders if you know that he waits for you to say you’re cold so he can glue himself to your side because the coconut smell of your shampoo is intoxicating, wonders if you know that he always shows you new songs because your face interprets the lyrics along with your mind and it’s the closest thing he can get to reading your mind.

He wonders if you know that he pretended not to know your name for an entire semester because he was falling in love with the way that you said it.

You’re sure your heart is going to beat out of your chest. You know he’s naming a song, but the way the words fall from his lips turns the atmosphere in the room into a fragile thing and you’re terrified to open your mouth, too terrified to break the bubble the two of you have created for yourself.

Instead, you turn away from him, rolling over to face the wall, arm tucked under your shared pillow, eyes blinking back tears that threaten to fall as you realize you’re reading too much into his answer, the way you always do. Because truthfully, why would he ask you that?

He is Helios, his smile the sun. He is a warmth you do not think you deserve yet find yourself a glutton for. He is all laughs and words, wide smiles and crescent eyes. You find yourself wondering if he knows of the gravitational pull he has on everyone around him, or if he is simply floating through space, unaware of the beauty that is his entire being.

If this were a movie, you’d admit to your friends that you are not his type, middle too round, thighs too large and existence too small to be his because your friends would not be his friends. But this isn’t a movie, and your friends are mutual, and there is not a day that goes by that you do not see him, the small voice in the back of your head bringing you down as you try to stand in the light that he casts.

 He shifts next to you and you prepare yourself for the loss of his warmth as you assume he is leaving, and instead freeze as the pillow moves, his right arm curled around yours, fingers tracing small patterns on the back of your hand. His left drapes over your waist and you stop breathing as goosebumps raise along the soft flesh of your stomach at someone else’s touch.

Chanyeol can feel you freeze under his touch but he doesn’t stop, left hand traveling north as it searches for your own, fingers finding purchase in your wrist as he pulls it from under your chin, tangling his fingers with yours. He can feel your pulse in the tips as he lets your joined hands rest on your hip. He is unapologetic as he scoots closer to you, shifting to nuzzle his nose at the nape of your neck, one leg tucked between yours and he wonders if you can feel the way his heart races too.

He knows your mind, knows your fight or flight response is kicked into over drive as your pulse pounds from every inch of your body. It doesn’t take long for yours to sync, hearts beating as one as the atmosphere turns heavy with words neither of you dare to say. So instead he does the only thing he knows to do without ruining the conversation your bodies are having for you; he hums.

 It takes a moment for your pulse to die enough in your ears for you to realize that he’s humming your answer, humming the song on your mind right now. The vibration against the back of your neck lulls you into a relaxed state, letting your body fall into his, trying not to think about how well you fit into him. Part of you says to turn over, to face him and address the thoughts running through your head, though the other half of you says not to move or you’ll ruin everything.

His grip on your fingers tightens as he feels you relax against him, pressing his body closer to yours until you are no longer sure where he starts and you end. His voice is muffled against your skin, warm like the rest of him, “do you want me to move?”.

You shake your head, throat dry as you respond with a dry “no”.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time..”

“Give me a heart attack?” He chuckles behind you, laughing with his whole body and you feel the final shards of fear melt from your skin with the sound.

“No, to touch you without you pulling away from me.” Your heart is in your throat at his answer, mind racing as you try to interpret what he could mean.

“Why…why would you want to do that?”

He’s silent for a moment and you can hear him swallow, his hand suddenly clammy in yours. You try to think of  another time you’ve seen him this nervous, but nothing comes to mind and you wonder what you’ve done.

“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N, is it really that hard to notice?”

“You can’t be in love with me Chanyeol. You didn’t even know my name for an entire semester of our friendship.”

“Yes I did. I’ve known your name since the first time Kyungsoo introduced us. I just liked hearing you say it and the way you smiled at me when I asked for it again.” His thumb rubs circles into your skin at his confession.

“Why would you be in love with me?” Your voice is small and he hates it, hates the way you’ve returned behind your wall, hidden back in your shell.

“It’s simple, why wouldn’t I?”

He doesn’t say anything else, and soon you can feel his breaths deepen against the back of your neck and you know he’s fallen asleep. Something in you tells you to let it go, to wonder what he could mean tomorrow when the world is back to normal.

So for now, you listen and tighten your grip on his fingers as you let yourself fall asleep, body pressed and wrapped up in the boy you love and the last thought that passes through your mind is that for once, you’re glad no one told you a party was going on.

[kongjjen]

baby's first snow | jeong jaehyun

synopsis: jaehyun loves being a girl dad, his chest fills with love and pride whenever he looks at your daughter. he's also convinced he knows her better than you do, and that she'll love her first ever snow. spoiler alert: she doesn't, and you have a screaming baby and a sulky husband on your hands.

pairing: girl dad!jaehyun x female!reader

genre: fluff, domesticity, established relationship

word count: 2.8k

contains: fluff galore. a glimpse of parenthood, overprotective father jaehyun who loves his daughter too much, reader is married to jaehyun. daughter doesn't have a name but jaehyun calls his daughter ttalgi (strawberry in korean).

author's note: jeelings (jaehyun feelings) hours: open! you can send your jeelings thoughts in! i'm the biggest girl dad!jaehyun enthusiast you'll find out there. no one can beat me on this. he'd be so loving and careful and considerate and such a good father :( this is a peek into my daylight delusions, i hope you'll enjoy! not proofread (yet) <3

©️ KONGJJEN 2025. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.

“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,”

And Jaehyun smiles, because the idea’s not that bad after all. Because, there’s nothing better than staying home with his two favourite girls in this entire world.

[withlovemark]

THE ORGASM DONORS: YOU HAVE BOOKED JOHNNY SUH!

pairing: donor! best friend! johnny x client! best friend! reader | genre: smut | words: 10k+

warnings: STRICTLY 18+ inappropriate use of a doctor’s examination table, clitoral stimulation, domination, dirty talk, fingering, hair-pulling, kissing, nipple-play, brief! oral sex, raw sex, rough sex, size kink! multiple positions, multiple orgasms, squirting, use of pet names: baby, doctor, doll

an: donor johnny is finally here! the layout for this doesn’t follow the usual of the previous orgasm donors which is why the warnings are already included above. you’ll understand why i had to do it this way as you read. without further ado, i give you the first donor - with love, c.

✚ THE BUSINESS PROPOSAL ✚

“what if i told you my friends and i’ve got this idea. something big. revolutionary, even,” johnny said, voice low and serious.

you arched a brow, setting your phone aside, as you look up at him from your shared couch, “revolutionary? like curing world hunger revolutionary, or your usual ‘let’s invent the next uber but for tacos’ revolutionary?”

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 ✚

—

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

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

—

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

taglist: closed.

[withlovemark]

THE ORGASM DONORS: YOU HAVE BOOKED JUNG JAEHYUN!

pairing: donor! jaehyun x client! reader I genre: smut | words: 12k+

warnings: STRICTLY 18+

an: donor jaehyun is here and he’s super sweet! i think this is the most fun i had writing for this series hehehe ;) i just love me my valentine, roses, cheeky gentleman. anyways, i’ll stop talking now, it’s time to be taught how to touch! and figure it out! - with love, c

you eyed the coupon clutched in your hand, the glossy paper crinkling under your fingers. it’s your birthday gift from your friends, a prepaid session at that new clinic that’s been receiving all the hype since it opened a couple of months ago.

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

taglist: closed.

[madeinmyeon]

can you write a kai scenario of them making up after a fight

bad habits

⟡ summary: jongin made a pact when you started dating: not getting involved in fights anymore. but that day, he broke his promise and your trust.

⟡ content: sfw, angst with happy ending, college au, mention of physical fighting (nothing too graphic), established relationship, comfort, fluff, jongin x gn!reader | word count: 1.5k words

⟡ a/note: dear anonie, i wasn't really sure what you really like or expected with this request, but i hope this works for you. lmk i missed something, mhwaaa <3

“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.

✧˚ ⋆｡˚ exo x madeinmyeon month masterlist | main masterlist Ი︵𐑼

[bookyeom]

beautiful flower - ykh

pairing: keeho x reader word count: 2.7k genre: f2l, angst and fluff (more Kyo fluff please!!) warnings: none really… kissing, miscommunication author’s note: Here it is... my first piwon fic. Terrified lowkey xx. Thank you to @liliesonthego, @jiuchip, @u2jwon, @soft4changbin and @wonubug for keeping the piwon fic community alive, and for inspiring me to finally post this. (Also please don't judge me - I actually do speak Korean!! So while the translation in this might not be entirely accurate, it's based off of a cute interaction i had with one of my young students who wanted to give me this name. How cute is that?!)

You barely have time to register the beeping of the lock before the front door is swinging open. A flurry of brown hair rushes inside, revealing Intak shaking the snow off of his hat as he barrels through.

“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

[zeroseuniverse]

Missing Out

Word Count: 509 Summary:“You’re quiet tonight,” you said softly, taking a seat beside him. A humorless chuckle left his lips. “I’ve been thinking.” Pairing: Kun x reader

Taglist: @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @Zaycie @lezleeferguson-120 @kunkunlele

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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.”

And just like that, the weight on his shoulders seemed a little lighter.

[hansiris]

allowance

summary: you lose a bet to your boyfriend, but severely underestimate the seventeen members' favoritism towards you.

cw/tags: vernon x idol!reader, gn!reader but written with fem!reader in mind, no specified age but reader is older than dino for the sake of comedy, crack and fluff, mature language, jeongcheol coparenting yn because i said so

note: wrote this because i think writing ot13 is so fun and apparently yall like it too :)

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <3

in case you didn't know: reblogging is the best way to support your favorite authors! if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi!

[lovecase]

FUCK AROUND & FIND OUT ℘ K.SEUNGMIN's!

( 애인 ) 𝒾n which ︵ pulling a prank on your boyfriend, seungmin, doesn't go exactly as planned. ⫶ 2O31 fluff angst emotional distress relationship conflict

⌨️ like&&reblog for a kiss. ── #click4masterlist to see more.

the sun was starting to dip below the skyline, casting long, honey-colored streaks across the floor of the apartment. the only sound was the scratching of a pen against paper and the occasional, rhythmic hum vibrating from seungmin’s throat.

he was sitting on the rug, back pressed against the side of the sofa, surrounded by a chaotic halo of crumpled lyrics and stray sheet music.

you were sprawled on the couch above him, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. you’d seen the same three memes twice now, and the boredom was starting to itch.

you shifted, dangling your legs over the edge so your toes brushed his shoulder. he didn't even flinch, totally locked into whatever melody was playing in his head.

"min?" you murmured.

"mm?" he didn't look up. his hand kept moving, crossing out a word and replacing it with something else.

"seungminnie."

"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

🏷️ ( sfw ) : @stvrlosts

[o2byjunmyeon]

a/n: fem!reader. talks about pregnancy.

chanyeol, who's not sure what's got you locked up in the bathroom on a sunday morning you're supposed to be spending together in bed.

it's been half an hour and he very much feels like an agitated puppy waiting for his owner to come back and grace him with their presence.

“baby?” he asks, softly knocking on the door like there's a wounded animal inside he doesn't want to scare away. “you okay in there?”

“five more minutes!” you call out. chanyeol can't see you, but he knows your voice is shaky. the way it is when you're on the brink of tears. your lips wobble when you make an effort to keep your tears from falling out.

chanyeol would much rather you cry, in front of him, while he holds you in his arms.

“that's the third time you've said that,” he reminds you gently, placing his palm on the wooden door separating you, like it'll help him feel you better. it doesn't. but he doesn't give up.

“just...some more time,” you say, and he swears he hears a sniff this time.

there's a bunch of scenarios running through chanyeol's head, each of them not making a lot of sense.

one; there was something wrong with what you had for dinner last night. even though kyungsoo's cooking is nothing short of stellar, there could have been something off with some ingredient. which is okay! accidents happen all the time. if that's the case, chanyeol's not going to give you a tough time about it.

two; you're upset with him for some reason. he's not sure what he did to upset you. you went to bed cuddled together like two octopuses unable to let go of each other. he woke up to find you still clinging to him, face buried in his shoulder, your warmth even better than the sun streaming in through the windows. maybe he was too hot. like a furnace. and you didn't like it.

or the fact that he'd turned to check his phone for a few minutes, reading through mails, replying to texts from his manager, and pushing back a hangout with his friends to the next day so that he could spend more time with you. somewhere amidst all that, he found you no longer in the bed. did him checking his phone upset you? or was it something else, something you'd rather not tell him, because both of you prefer silent arguments to outright conflicts?

probably not. both of you are mature adults.

three; and this might sound crazy, but...

you're pregnant.

maybe.

the thought excites him as much as it scares him. being a father, especially when he's as famous as he is, is not an easy thing. for you, or the baby. it'll be hectic. managing a baby with both of your jobs. running on even lesser sleep than he already does. a whole person he's going to be responsible for, for the rest of his life.

but it's not impossible. his sister already has a child, and has been not-so-subtly wondering when the two of you might have your own.

whatever it is, chanyeol's here for you.

and he knows the signs of pregnancy thanks to his sister. mood swings, nausea, tiredness. and that's just the beginning.

that could be it. it makes sense. given that you've been in there for a while now, and he's sure he's heard you cry at this point.

“babe?” he asks, voice a little louder this time, hoping it doesn't worry you too much. “i want to come in, is that okay?”

“no!” you call out, but chanyeol can't stand not seeing you and not knowing why you're crying.

“babe...” he says, pushing the handle. it's locked. obviously. he gives it a coupel more tries, not actually trying to force it open, but you must think otherwise because the next thing he knows is that he's tumbled into the bathroom, holding onto you to steady himself.

you're shaking under his arms like a leaf, hiding your face from him. he can feel some tears slide from your skin and wet his shirt. so he does what he knows best—gathering you into his arms and rocking you slowly. the way he'd rock a baby. because you're his baby.

is that cheesy? probably. chanyeol doesn't care. he kisses your forehead and rests his head on yours and sways you from side to side. your sobs make your body shake a little, but your tears dry up, and you end up resting your forehead against his chest.

chanyeol lifts his head to sneak a glance at the counter. not that he's trying to find some pregnancy tests, but his heart twinges when he sees nothing. it's fine. he knows you'll tell him when the time is right. he just hopes it comes soon.

“it's okay,” he says, giving you his best smile. “it's going to be okay. i promise.”

you shake your head, breath stuttering. “you don't even know what happened.”

“because you're going to tell me what's up, and i'm going to be right here. you don't need to worry.”

you take in a deep breath. “you sound awfully calm about something you don't even know anything about.”

“because you're panicking, and it's making me panic.”

you sigh, looking down at the floor. “you're going to be mad at me.”

chanyeol bristles at that. not at you. at the idea that he'd be mad at you for something as important, as life-changing as this.

“impossible.”

“it could...hurt our marriage?”

“absolutely not,” he says, gripping your shoulders. “it's my fault, too. it's my fault, fullstop. it wouldn't have happened if i didn't start.”

you frown at him. “what?”

he nods. “nothing could ever touch our marriage, baby. we're going to figure this out together.”

“figure things out? it's expensive, what else is there to figure out about it?”

“so? you think i can't support us? you're worried about the money?”

“not what i said, yeol. i just don't get why this isn't a big deal to you.”

chanyeol shakes his head. “it is a big deal to me, but i just want you to be comfortable talking about it. we'll do things your way. it's sudden, but it's okay. we'll figure this out together.”

you blink at him. “you're...not upset?”

“of course not,” chanyeol says, wiping away the sticky trail of tears from your cheeks. “i could never be upset with you, baby. not about something as big as this.”

“you're not upset even though this is a big thing? are you being sarcastic?”

chanyeol frowns. “what? no, i'm not. why would i be? i mean, i sort of figured it out,” he says, “when you felt nauseous yesterday morning. i just connected the dots too late.”

“what does my nausea have to do with anything?” you ask, sounding genuinely confused.

but chanyeol does not let up, not in this moment. “you're pregnant!” he exclaims, with the air of a man whose proudest accomplished is being called his wife's husband. the sparkle in his eyes dies out when you fix him with the coldest stare he's ever seen. you've never once looked at him like that. it's enough to level out whole cities, and chanyeol feels his knees tremble a little under your gaze.

“what,” you say flatly, the single word carrying enough murderous intent that chanyeol could have actually died had it been an actual weapon.

“you're...not?”

“what the hell are you talking about?” you ask, voice finally back to its normal volume. chanyeol's glad, even though you sound upset with him. “why did you even think—what? did i put on some weight? is that your way of telling me?”

chanyeol's eyes widen. “what? no! i never thought that! and even if you did, why would that be an issue? i love you exactly the way you look. fuck, no. what are you talking about?”

“my ring,” you say with a wail, and the tears come back to your eyes. “i must have lost it sometime last night and i just realized it when i woke up. i was afraid you'd be mad at me because it's our wedding ring and it's so damn expensive and i can't fucking find it—”

“babe,” chanyeol says, with a big sigh. “that's it?”

“that's it? that's the ring you gave me when you proposed to me, the one i've had for years, and you don't care that i can't find it?”

“i'll get you another one.”

“it won't have the same meaning!”

“then i'll propose to you again,” chanyeol says, the truth spilling out of him like waves. “and i'll marry you again. but i don't want to see you crying because of something as small as this.”

you sigh, running your hands through the mess of hair on your head. you'd hate it if you took a look at yourself in the mirror right now. chanyeol thinks you look beautiful like this. he makes sure to tell you.

“so...you're really not mad at me?”

chanyeol shakes his head, kissing your forehead again. “i thought something really big happened. don't worry, baby. i'll help you find it.”

“promise?”

“promise,” he assures you, holding your hand. his gaze darts to your stomach for just a moment, then away, but you catch it.

“you're not even upset that you're not becoming a dad?”

his ears heat up, and he looks anywhere but towards you. “no, why would i be...”

“you can be honest with me, yeol.”

chanyeol looks at you, shy. “is it so bad? that i might want to become a dad?”

“no. not at all, yeol. but it seems like you've put some thought into this, no?”

he shrugs, happy and helpless. “i was thinking about how it would be if she had your eyes. and my ears. and your smile.”

you cup his cheeks in your hands. “she?”

“i don't mind having a boy, either. but i want them to be like you. so i'm just a little biased when it comes to having a daughter.”

“one day,” you promise him. “just...not now. one day.”

“one day,” chanyeol agrees, heart full at the thought of another voice or two added to the atmosphere of your house. little footsteps. all the tiny clothes. the inevitable heartbreak when they grow up.

he's thinking too far ahead, isn't he?

[o2byjunmyeon]

imagining kyungsoo as this unfairly hot barista in your university cafe. no matter what kind of day you're having, just one glimpse of him is enough to make it better. he smiles at you, and it makes your heart flutter like an immature teenager. until you realize that smile is directed at everyone who's a patron at the cafe. whatever.

and it's not like you're the only person that's noticed him. there's always a decent crowd at the cafe, and a good chunk of the crowd stares at mr. hot barista for a few more seconds than they should.

it's irrational, you know.

they might be nobodies in your eyes. just like you're a nobody in mr. hot bar—kyungsoo, his name tag tells you as you linger for a few seconds more under the pretext of grabbing an extra tissue—in kyungsoo's eyes.

but that doesn't stop you from looking at him for just a moment more as he rings up your purchase. you take in the way his eyelashes fan softly against his skin when he looks down. the smile he gives you when you thank him for your drink, your order that he always remembers. how warm his fingertips feel when they brush against yours for just a moment, making you feel like it's just the two of you here.

and then his eyes move on from you to the person inevitably behind you in the queue, the spell broken.

whatever. he probably remembers everyone's orders.

it's literally his job, the rational part of your brain whispers. but you choose to ignore it.

you tell your friends about your hopeless crush on the cute guy at the cafe. more like, they tease you about it. they ask you when you're going to ask him out. or when you're going to stop pining for him and save your heart from breaking.

it should be easy, but you're not sure. maybe you like kyungsoo more than your daily dose of coffee. maybe the brown of his eyes pumps adrenaline into your system better than the coffee he hands you.

despite everything, you end up finding yourself in front of the till on this beautiful saturday morning, feet having been driven by the urge to start your day by looking at kyungsoo's brown eyes.

only to be met by a man with large brown eyes and an aura that looks like he's been a coffee connoisseur for decades, even though he's definitely around your age.

“hi, welcome to our cafe,” he says, eyes crinkling when he smiles. “i'm chen. what would you like to have?”

“kyungsoo,” your mouth says before your brain catches up. you feel mortified. you stare at chen with your mouth open. he looks back at you with his eyes wider than they were before—and goddamn, does everyone who works here have such lovely eyes?

you turn around on your heel to march out of the place, determined never to come back again, very certain that your coffee addiction has finally been cured, when you bump into someone standing in your space. you're about to apologize to them as you look up into their eyes and—

“hey,” kyungsoo says with a small smile, threatening to break into laughter judging by the way the corners of his lips are twitching. he'd better not be laughing at you, but you think it's a lost cause already. “you were looking for me?”

“i—” there's really nothing you can say. it's a beautiful spring morning, the weather pleasant enough to make you consider sitting outside and studying for a change, but now it's all gone. you just want to hide under your covers till the semester ends. no more coffee. no more cute guys. “...no?”

“it's funny,” he says, eyes incredibly warm and full of humour. “because i was thinking of you this morning. if you'd like to grab a coffee with me. outside. without me behind the counter, for once.”

your brain short circuits at that. “with...you?”

“yeah. that's how dates work, right?”

you look around for a couple moments. surely this is a joke? one of those hallucinations you get when your exams roll around, and you're running on a collective four hours of sleep?

but it's not. kyungsoo's waiting patiently in front of you. you notice he's not wearing his apron for once. and he's even more handsome underneath it. broad shoulders, defined arms, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and showing off his collarbones—fuck.

when you meet his eyes again, there's a knowing smile in them.

“i'll take that as a yes, then?”

“aren't you supposed to be working?” you ask weakly, lost for words otherwise.

“only in the evenings, and only on weekdays. besides,” he says, leaning against the counter, “you already know my name. isn't it fair that i get to know yours?”

you can only watch as he rattles off your coffee order to chen, and orders a decaf for himself, your heart beating fast again.

you're not getting over coffee any time soon.

[wonubug]

STILL INTO YOU ⭑

PAIRING: Girl dad!Choi Jiung x Fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: You and Jiung try to move on while co-parenting your five year old daughter.

DISCLAIMERS: strictly smau, just some more bullshit, you have a bf named minho, and Idk yeah that’s it guys help

💌 mika’s message! i’m committing to the bit and writing ot6 as your babydaddy but GODDDD this its so fucking hard trying not to sound repetitive 🫩🫩🫩🫩 but trust i’ll get to cooking and i promise not all of them will be angst Ok ❤️❤️ This one was just some bullshit tho so idk. Sorry.

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[itstheoneshot]

Kinktober Day 22

Breeding - Suho

!sub Suho

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.”

———

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

[barnesandnoblecauses]

Could you please write a fluffy fic about you trying the TikTok prank on Bucky where you insist on going out alone late at night (walk, trip to the store, etc) and telling him you’ll be fine and it’ll be quick but he’s determined to go with you? Maybe you see how concerned he is that something could happen and then forget about the prank altogether🥺 very self-indulgent because I love the idea of a protective man! Thank you so much in advance!

Protective!Bucky is literally my everything. You cannot tell me that man wouldn’t protect his significant other with his entire being. Anyway, hope you enjoy this! 💞

The idea had bounced around in your brain for a few days since you saw the videos going viral on TikTok. You had thought it would be the perfect harmless prank to pull on Bucky - telling him you were going somewhere alone, late, and insisting you weren’t going to need him there. It wasn’t that he doubted your independence, but he was so damn guard-dog coded that you were sure this would ruffle his feathers.

You sighed, flopping over in bed. You sighed, flopping over again. You sighed even more dramatically, flopping over once more. You were trying to get his attention.

Bucky lowered his book, casting a sideways glance at you. “Somethin’ wrong, doll?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Mmm…’M wantin’ ice cream,” you mumbled into the pillow.

He chuckled. “We ran out last night, but we can grab some more tomorrow,” he said, cool vibranium fingers rubbing soothingly along your back. “I think you’ll survive, darling.”

You groaned, rolling over to face him with a pout. “I think I might die.”

He rolled his eyes and then returned to his book. This was it, this was your chance.

You sat up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m gonna just walk down to the bodega, okay?” you said, pulling on a sweatshirt.

“At midnight? By yourself?” His questioning tone rang out.

“I can handle myself, Buck,” you replied, grabbing your purse from the top of the dresser. You glanced back at him. “I’m a big girl.”

You watched as he lowered his book again, this time placing the bookmark and setting it aside. His eyes narrowed as he studied you, like he could sense this was some kind of trick. “It’s dangerous out there,” he replied simply.

You shrugged. “I got pepper spray. And you didn’t teach me basic self-defense for nothing.”

“I taught you that for times when I couldn’t be around.”

“So?”

“So,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’m around which means I’m coming with you.”

You pouted. “Please, Buck. I’ll be okay. Just read your book and I’ll be back in a few minutes. It’s literally just a block down-“

“No.”

You could see the unbridled worry brewing behind those beautiful blue eyes. His jaw was set, ticking in the way it only did when something he’d just said was set in stone. “I’m saying no for a reason.” His voice shifted from soft to gruff.

“And what reason is that?” you pried.

“It’s the one where I would never forgive myself if something happened to you when I could have prevented it,” he said, brushing past you to grab a coat from the closet. “So, you can either let me come with you, or you can go by yourself when the sun is shining.”

You sighed. “Fine, you can come.” You felt defeated but at the same time, it was always nice knowing just how much Bucky cared for you.

“I wasn’t waiting for approval, doll,” he drawled teasingly, quickly kissing your forehead as he walked triumphantly towards the front door of the apartment.

You grumbled something sarcastic under your breath and followed him. You couldn’t be annoyed with him for very long though. Not when his protective side still managed to make your heart skip a beat and butterflies take flight in your stomach.

As you both walked along, the smell of damp pavement washing over your senses, you felt as his arm settled around your waist. His hand gripped at your side, something steady and possessive that drew you in closer to him.

“You know, I don’t think anyone is gonna mess around with me now. You look pretty scary.” You grinned up at him.

Bucky briefly glanced down at you, then once behind the both of you, and then fixated his gaze ahead. “I’d be a little concerned if the bad guys thought I looked like a teddy bear,” he said.

You reached a hand up and poked his stubbly cheek. “Well, I think you look like a teddy bear,” you teased.

You approached the bodega, the lit sign reflecting off the sidewalk. You both walked inside and due to the tight nature of the aisles, Bucky took up position behind you, hands ghosting along your hips as you walked. It felt like you had a warm wall of muscle behind you, an impenetrable shield just for you.

“You can back off just a little,” you mumbled, your cheeks firing in a blush at how close your bodies were pressed together as you looked over each ice cream flavor.

“Nope,” he said simply.

You got the feeling now that maybe he was giving you a little payback for originally denying his company - once again, it wasn’t like you minded.

The rest of the fifteen-minute trip was the same. He was never more than an inch away from you at all times, and even that was a stretch. As you closed the door, kicked your shoes off, and set the ice cream on the kitchen counter, you noticed he was still hovering.

“Your services are no longer needed, Sergeant,” you teased.

Bucky looked down at you, his face all serious. “Look at me and tell me you won’t do that again,” he murmured, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Do…Do what?”

“Bait me like that.”

Your eyes widened in realization. The prank. You had totally forgotten about it. “Oh,” you mumbled, glancing away. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the tip of your nose. “It’s okay, darling. Just know that for as long as I live, my job is to protect you. And I take that responsibility seriously. Got it?”

You looked back up at him, his baby blues much softer now. “Yeah, I got it,” you whispered back.

[w1nter-fairy]

Anesthesia hazeˎˊ˗

pairing: boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: After waking up from surgery still under anesthesia, you meet a ridiculously pretty stranger who claims to be your boyfriend. Convinced he's too perfect to be real, you spend the next hour flirting with him.

word count: 2.1 k

warnings: fluff, post-surgery / anesthesia humor, memory loss (temporary), established relationship, bucky barnes being soft, tooth-rotting fluff, mild embarrassment, idiots in love.

a/n: how crazy is that there's already +400 people following me now? I started working on this thing when I was a bit under 300 and timing was crazy. So I saw this tiktok & came with this silly idea lol not used to writing this much fluff, but I hope you enjoy it. (Also, update on rockstar!Bucky coming soon.) | dividers by @enchanthings

You blinked down slowly, the world swimming into focus in patches of white and blue. Hospital room, beeping machines, and— oh.

There was a man sitting beside your bed. A really really pretty man. Dark hair, sharp jaw, shoulders that looked like they were personally crafted by Michelangelo. And his eyes, of the most ridiculous shade of blue you've ever seen.

"Hi," you breathed, the word slurring slightly. "Are you real?"

The pretty man's lips twitched into a smile. "Yeah, sweetheart, I'm real. How you feeling?"

"Floaty," you admitted, trying to lift your hand but it felt like it weighted a thousand pounds. "Everything's… soft. Are you a nurse? You're the prettiest nurse I've ever seen."

He laughed and the sound made your fuzzy brain light up. "I'm not a nurse, baby. I'm Bucky, your boyfriend."

You squinted at him suspiciously. "No."

"No?"

"No," you said firmly. "Because if you were my boyfriend I'd definitely remember. I would remember so hard you'd be all I ever thought about. I'd be insufferable about it."

"You're insufferable about it," he said, grinning now. He reached out and took your hands, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. One hand was warm, the other was cool metal. "You literally have a folder on your phone called 'Bucky being pretty' with like three hundred photos in it."

Your eyes went wide. "I do?"

"Yes, you do."

"…can I see?"

"After you're more awake." He was trying so hard not to laugh. "The nurse said you'd be loopy for a bit."

"I'm not loopy," you insisted, then immediately contradicted yourself by reaching up to poke his face. "You're loopy. Your face is loopy. Too pretty, not fair." Your finger booped his nose. "Boop."

Bucky caught your hand before you could poke him again, pressing a kiss to your palm. The gesture was so tender it made your drugged heart skip. "You tell me that a lot."

"Well, it is true." You tried to sit up and failed spectacularly. Bucky immediately stood up, his hands gentle as he helped adjust your pillows. "Woah, you're really tall too. How tall are you? Like eight feet?"

"Just six feet, baby."

"That's so many feet." You grabbed at his jacket as he tried to sit back down. "Wait, come back. I need to look at you more."

"I'm right here." But he stayed standing, letting you stare up at him with unbashed wonder.

"Your eyes are blue," you announced, like you'd discovered something groundbreaking.

"They are."

"Like… aggresively blue. Who gave you permission to have eyes that blue? That's illegal, you should be arrested." You gasped suddenly. "Wait, are you a criminal? Is that why you're in the hospital? Are you on the run?"

"I'm not on the run, I'm here because my girlfriend had surgery and I wanted to take care of her and make sure she was okay."

You processed this slowly, then after a minute of silence, you said: "Your girlfriend is so lucky."

"Yeah?" His smile was soft, affectionate in a way that made your chest warm even through the drug haze.

"Yeah. I hope she knows how lucky she is, if I had a boyfriend that looked like you—" you sighed dreamily. "I'd never let you leave, I'd just stare at you all day. I'd cancel plans, I'd call in sick to work 'sorry, can't come in, too busy looking at my boyfriend's face."

Bucky actually had to cover his mouth to hide his laughter. "That so?"

"Mmhmm…" You tried to focus on him but everything kept going a little fuzzy at the edged. "What's your girlfriend like? Is she pretty? She's probably pretty, you seem like you have good taste."

"She's beautiful," he said quietly. "Smartest person I know, funny, brave as hell, a little reckless sometimes, which gives me heart attacks. But yeah, she's pretty perfect."

Your drugged brain felt emotions about this that you couldn't quite name. "Wow, you really love her."

"More than anything."

"That's…" your eyes were getting misty. "That's so nice, everyone should be loved like that. I wanna be loved like that." You looked up at him with the saddest eyes. "Do you think anyone will ever love me like that?"

Bucky's expression did something complicated. He sat back down on the edge of your bed, taking both of your hands in his. "Baby… sweetheart, I'm talking about you. You're my girlfriend."

You blinked slowly. "…I am?"

"Yes."

"But…" You looked down at your hands, then back up at his face. "But you're so pretty."

"So are you."

"And nice, you seem really nice."

"You're nicer."

"And you have good hair." You reached up to touch it and he let you, patient as a saint while your clumsy fingers carded through the strands."It's so soft, do you condition? What's your routine? I need your routine."

"You bought me the conditioner," he said, amused. "You did a whole presentation about hair care."

"I did?" You perked up. "Was it good? Did I use a PowerPoint?"

"It was very thorough, had charts and everything."

"Past me is so smart." Your hand dropped from his hair to his face, cupping his cheek. Your thumb traced his cheekbone, then down to his jaw. "You have a really good bone structure, like… really good. Are you a model?"

"Not a model."

"You should be, you'd be great at it. You'd just stand there being pretty and everyone would throw money at you." You gasped dramatically. "Do you even have a job?"

"I'm an Avenger."

Your jaw dropped. "Like… the superheroes?"

"Yep."

"Oh my god, you're a superhero! A pretty superhero." You looked at him with renewed awe. "What's your power? Is it being pretty? Because that should count."

He was fully grinning now. "I've got a vibranium arm. Super soldier serum."

"Can I see the arm?"

Bucky glanced at the door, then shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the black and gold vibranium arm. Your drugged gasp was deeply gratifying.

"That's so cool!" You grabbed at it, running your fingers over the plates. "It's pretty. You're pretty. Everything about you it's pretty… do you sparkle in the sunlight?"

"That's vampires, baby."

"Are you a vampire?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Because you look like you could be a vampire. A really hot vampire." You squinted at him. "Smile, let me see your teeth."

He humored you, smiling wide. You peered at his teeth very seriously. "Okay not a vampire, just a regular pretty person." You seemed satisfied with his conclusion. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Always."

You leaned in conspiratorially, nearly falling out of the bed. Bucky caught you easily, steadying you. "I think I have a crush on you."

"Do you now?"

"The biggest crush. An embarrassing crush." You bit your lip. "But you have a girlfriend so I shouldn't be saying this… that's not good etiquette, I apologize." You tried to look serious. "I respect your relationship, even though I'm dying inside.

"Noted," he was shaking with silent laughter now. "What if I told you that you're the girlfriend?"

"Then I'd say you're lying because there's no way—" you gestured vaguely at him. "—that someone who looks like that would date someone like me."

"And what's someone like you?"

"You know, regular, average… not a superhero. Probably have weird hobbies." You paused. "Do I have weird hobbies?"

"I don't thinks is weird, but you enjoy collecting vintage objects—"

"See? Boring."

"I think it's cute."

You stared at him. "Okay, but if we're actually dating—which I still don't believe—but IF we are, then I need to know some things…"

"Shoot."

"Have I kissed you?"

"Many times."

Your hand flew to your mouth. "Oh my god."

"Just yesterday you kissed me goodbye like five times because you kept forgetting things and having to come back inside."

"What else? What else have we done? Have we—" You lowered your voice to a whisper. "—held hands?"

"We live together."

The machine monitoring your heart started beeping faster. "We what?"

"We share an apartment… have for three months now. We meal prep on Sundays—"

"That's so domestic!" You clutched his hand tighter. "Oh my god, am I living my dream? Is this real life?"

"Very real life."

"Prove it. Tell me something only my boyfriend would know."

Bucky thought for a moment, his smile going soft. "You talk in your sleep, usually about work, but sometimes you just say random stuff. Last week you had a full conversation whether cats understand democracy. You also steal all the blankets and I have to burrito wrap you to get any covers. And when you're really tired, you make me play with your hair until you fall asleep."

Your eyes were getting watery again. "That sounds nice."

"It is nice, the best part of my day."

"Even the blanket stealing?"

"Even that."

A nurse peeked in, smiling at the scene. "How's our patient doing?"

"She's very high," Bucky said.

"I'm in love," you corrected, squeezing his hand. "With him, this pretty man. He says he's my boyfriend but I think he might be a hallucination because he's too perfect."

The nurse laughed. "He's been here since they brought you in, hasn't left your side."

"Really?" You looked up at Bucky with wonder.

"Really," he confirmed.

The nursed checked your vitals, adjusted your IV and gave you some ice chips to suck on. "The anesthesia should wear off in another hour or so. You'll probably be pretty tired though."

After she left, you went back to staring at Bucky. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"If we're dating, can I kiss you?"

His smile could've powered the sun. "You don't have to ask for permission, sweetheart. But maybe wait until you're a little less loopy?"

"What if I forget? What if the drugs wear off and I forget that I'm allowed to kiss you and I just pine forever?"

"Then I'll remind you. Like I do every morning."

"Every morning," you repeated dreamily. "We have mornings together. Plural mornings."

"So many mornings." You yawned suddenly, the exhaustion hitting you. Bucky stood and adjusted your bed so you could lie back more comfortably. "Get some rest, baby."

"Will you stay?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He settled back into the chair, but kept hold of your hand.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

"When I wake up and I'm not high anymore, will you still be this pretty?"

He brought your joined hands up and kissed your knuckles, his eyes crinkling with tat smile you'd apparently been cataloging in a folder for months. "Guess you'll have to wait and see."

"Can't wait," you mumbled, eyes already drifting closed. "Gonna wake up with the prettiest boyfriend in the world."

"Get some sleep, sweetheart."

"Okay, but just so you know—" you forced your eyes open one more time to look at him. "—if we really are dating, then I'm the luckiest person alive."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing."

You fell asleep with his hand in yours, the steady beep of the monitors, and a smile on your face.

Two hours later.

You woke up slowly, the fog clearing from your brain. Everything came back in pieces—the surgery, the recovery room, and oh god, Bucky. Your boyfriend Bucky. Who you'd apparently hit on while high.

He was still there, slouched in the in the uncomfortable hospital chair, scrolling through his phone. When he noticed you were awake, his whole face lit up.

"Hey," he said softly. "Welcome back, how you feeling?"

"Mortified," you croaked. "Please tell me I didn't say anything too embarrassing."

His grin was evil. "Define too embarrassing."

"Bucky—"

"You told me I should be arrested for having blue eyes. You asked if I sparkled in the sunlight. You said you had a crush on me and then apologized because you didn't want to disrespect my relationship."

You covered your face with both hands. "Oh my god."

"Oh and you called my face 'loopy'". He was definitely laughing now. "And you said you'd call in sick to work just to stare at me all day."

"I hate you."

"No you don't. You love me, you told me so multiple times, very emphatically." He stood and came to bed, gently pulling your hands away from your face. "For the record, I recorded about five minutes of it."

"You what?!"

"For posterity." His eyes were sparkling with mischief. "And for the next time you try to say I'm not pretty."

"I didn't—I don't—" You couldn't even form a defense. "You are pretty."

"So you keep telling me." He leaned down and kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. "Feeling better?"

"Physically, yes. Emotionally, destroyed."

"Well the good news is the surgery went great. The bad news is I'm definitely showing that video at our wedding."

"Bucky!"

But you were smiling, and so was he, and honestly? You'd embarrass yourself a hundred times over if it meant waking up to that face. Even if you already knew you were allowed to kiss it.

[stxrrywoo]

when you call him your husband

☆ ── tw. ; established relationships, kissing, petnames (baby, love, princess...), some mention of anxiety, a pinch of them getting handsy, just a lot of fluffiness, lmk if I missed anything!!

홍중 ── HONGJOONG

you had just gotten back from a shopping spree with your friends, and while you were with them, they were telling you about this trend that's going around where girls are calling their boyfriends their husbands. yeji even went as far as to show you a few of the videos, all three of you giggling at some of the guys' reactions. soojin then went on about how you should try it on hongjoong, and your heart flipped a little, already knowing how flustered he would get.

"c'mon i wanna know what his reaction would be!" yeji excalimed, dropping her phone and nearly shaking you like a ragdoll while you tried to stiffle your laughter.

"okay, okay, i'll do it," you told her through your fit of laughter, and both of the girls broke out into cheers, earning a few glares from those in the cafe, and you quietly apologized before scolding them.

so you went home that evening with a small pep in your step, ready to enact your little prank. hongjoong was already home when you got there, in his studio, working on yet another soundtrack. however, you knew that he would be in there for a while, so you decided to make dinner and take it in to him.

"oh baby, i didn't know you were home." hongjoong's head perked up as he caught sight of the door opening from the corner of his eye. you just offered him a sweet smile, saying it was okay, and holding up his plate of food. "thank you, my love."

"of course, baby, what are you working on?" you asked, moving to stand behind him and letting your hands drop to his tense shoulders after setting the plate down.

"finishing up this track and will sen—" the shrill sound of his ringtone filled the room, and hongjoong let out an annoyed sigh when he saw that it was the new intern who would not leave him alone. he had told you about her before, and she ground your gears to the point where you were tempted to go up there to talk to her.

noticing the annoyance that twisted on your face, hongjoong couldn't help but smile inwardly before grabbing the device and handing it to you. to say you were surprised would be an understatement, but you weren't about to pass up this opportunity to get this chick off your man's back. it was also the perfect time to play the little prank you had been planning.

"hello?" you answered the phone curtly, placing the device to your ear, and even the sound of her voice when she asked who you were made your nose scrunch up. taking a step away from hongjoong, so he could eat, you let out a small scoff, "this is his wife, now why do you keep calling my husband's phone?"

hongjoong nearly choked on his food when he heard those words fall from your lips, wide eyes snapping over to land on you. you bit the inside of your cheek to suppress the shit-eating grin that was threatening to pull on your lips. you hadn't even heard whatever the girl on the other side of the phone was talking about, but you couldn't care less with the way hongjoong was staring at you, as if you had just hung the stars in the sky.

"listen you have no reason to be calling him personally, if it's work related keep it to work hours. if it's anything else, find someone else to bother and leave my husband alone," you told her plainly, annoyance dripping from your tone, and hongjoong nearly melted in his seat.

you then hung up the phone before she could even get another word in, silencing her contact. once all was said and done, you moved back to your dark-haired boyfriend, your smile finally breaking through when you took in his expression. without a word, he pulled you towards him so you were standing between his parted legs, his chin resting on your stomach as he looked up at you.

“you would want to marry me?” the genuine shock in his tone made your heart drop; had he really thought that you wouldn’t want to marry him?

a small pout formed on your lips as you brought your hand to his head, combing your fingers through his messy hair, stopping at the nape of his neck. his grip on the back of your thighs tightened as you pressed your fingers into the back of his neck comfortingly, a soft smile on your lips.

“of course, i’d wanna marry you; don’t be so silly,” you told him, and his face flushed as he pulled you closer, his arm now hugging your hips tightly as his head filled with thoughts, and the small velvet box that sat in his desk drawer felt lighter.

성화 ── SEONGHWA

it was friday, and that meant that you were going to be doing your weekly review of the makeup products that you had used throughout the week. however, this week was going to be a little different; you were going to be doing seonghwa’s make-up as a milestone reward for your followers. you had spent quite a bit of time on tiktok and just happened to see the videos where all of the girls were calling their boyfriend’s ‘husband’ and recording their reaction. they all made you giggle, and you just knew you had to try it on seonghwa, and this just seemed to be the perfect time for it.

you were in the middle of setting up the camera for the video when there was a knock at the door. before seonghwa peeked his head through the crack, “hey, love, i brought some fruit.” you couldn’t help but smile, seeing the small bowl of fruit that was in his hand.

“thank you, hwa,” you motioned for him to join you on the ground in front of the camera, “come sit. i’m almost done setting up.”

seonghwa happily made his way over to you and sat down, his legs crossed underneath him, and handed you the bowl. his hand then found your knee as you set the fruit down on the table in front of you before grabbing a blueberry and popping it into your mouth.

“are you ready?” you asked him, and he nodded with a bright smile on his face. you had to fight back the huge grin that was threatening to pull on your lips as you reached forward to turn the camera on.

sitting back down on your knees, you smiled at the camera, “hello everyone! as mentioned on my twitter, i am going to be doing my husband’s makeup.”

a look of shock morphed on seonghwa’s face as he looked away from the camera lens to look at you, “husband?” he exclaimed, causing you to jump slightly and look over at him, trying your best not to smile.

“what?” you asked, holding back a giggle when he looked from you to the camera lens before pointing to himself.

“are you talking about me?” he asked with a cheeky smile on his face, causing you to giggle.

“yes, who else would i be talking about?” your cheeks had started to hurt from smiling so hard as he looked at you in pure astonishment.

“you,” seonghwa pointed at you before pointing down to his hand, “marry me?”

“yes,” you laughed, glancing over to the camera once more before letting your eyes fall back on him, “that’s what makes you my husband.”

seonghwa looked at you for a second before holding his left hand out to you, “i do,” he looked around the room, “i just wish the scenery was a little bit better, but i do.” you couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes at the sassiness in his tone before reaching over to your vanity to grab a ring.

sitting back down, you held your hand out for him, and seonghwa happily placed his hand into yours, allowing you to slip the ring on his ring finger. you then placed a kiss on his knuckles before looking up to capture the bright, sassy smile that played on his lips.

you couldn’t help but laugh as he grabbed your hand to pull you closer, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. "don’t worry, my love. i’ll get you one as well,” he whispered sweetly, relishing in the blush that dusked your cheeks as you continued your recording.

윤호 ── YUNHO

it was the end of the week, which meant that yunho always went to the internet cafe to play his games with friends. normally, you would just wait for him to finish and come back to your apartment, but today you just wanted to be with him. so you found yourself sitting in an empty chair next to him while his gamed his little heart out. you scroll through tiktok and instagram reels, perfectly content to just be in yunho's company. yunho, of course, wasn't oblivious to you; he had one headphone slipped back just in case you talked to him.

your eyes glanced over at yunho when you came across a video of a girl sitting in her car with her boyfriend and calling him 'husband'. his reaction was cute, and you started to wonder what yunho's reaction would be, and a sly smile spread on your lips.

then one of the workers came up to you and your hyperfixated boyfriend, asking if there was anything you needed. it was then that you decided that now would be as good a chance as any, so you gave her your order before glancing over at yunho.

"babe, did you want your usual?" you asked, and he spared you a quick glance before humming. you turned back to the worker with a smile, "and my husband would like the spicy ramen bowl." a laugh threatened to break through as you felt yunho straighten his body next to you, his now wide eyes looking at you.

"what did you just call me?" yunho asked in astonishment as you thanked the worker before watching her walk away, then met your boyfriend's shocked eyes.

"my husband." you repeated yourself, and yunho was sure that he had died and gone to heaven with how easily the name fell from your lips, but he still couldn't fully wrap his head around it.

"me?" he pointed at himself before pointing at you, "your husband?" he asked, ignoring the screams from his teammates as the 'game over' screen flashed on the desktop.

"yes, you goof, who else?" you asked, giggling, but quickly let out a gasp when he turned and pulled your chair closer to his, hands on either side of it. you bit your lips as you tried to suppress the smile, stomach fluttering at the light blush that dusted his cheeks.

"say it again," he whispered, heart racing in his chest as he watched you giggle at his reaction.

"you're. my. husband." you reached up to grab his face in both your hands, the warmth of his cheek seeping into your skin, "my hubby wubby." you cooed in a baby voice as you shook his head softly, and a wide smile spread on his lips.

"you really wanna marry me one day?" he asked, a hint of hesitancy in his tone, causing you to pout, pinching his cheeks until he was pulling your hand away from his face, placing them in his lap.

"why wouldn't i want to marry you, yunho?" you asked, pout still very much on your face, causing him to chuckle, "you're the only man i'd ever want to have as my husband. point blank period." you told him, sas lacing every last syllable in the end.

"that has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" he asked, softly cupping your face, and you turned into putty in his palm, heat creeping up your neck, "can't wait to make it official."

여상 ── YEOSANG

you had seen the trend of the girls calling their boyfriends their husbands for shits and giggles all over your for you page, and you knew you wanted to try it. already imagining what yeosang’s reaction would be, and suddenly felt super giddy. so you ran and told your friends all about your idea, and they encouraged you, already knowing that your boyfriend would love it. you had everything planned, knowing that you would do it when you went out to lunch with him this weekend.

but then you saw the viral video of the guy who rudely cut his girlfriend off, telling her that he wasn’t her husband, and doubt started to cloud your mind. what if yeosang reacts the same way? or what if he just laughed at you because he thought it was stupid?

so when you told your friends that you weren’t going to do it anymore, they asked you why until you finally spilled the reason behind your hesitance. your best friend just shook her head with a small laugh.

“girl, that man is far too lovesick; there ain’t no way he’s gonna react like that,” she reassured you, and the other agreed with her rather quickly.

“yeah, and that guy in the video was just an asshole, you can tell,” another of your friends added in, causing you to laugh before saying that she was right.

nodding with a newfound confidence, you told them that you were going to do it, and they all cheered, causing you to laugh. your best friend then grabbed your attention once more with a reassuring smile.

“and if, for some very unlikely reason, he does act like that, my door is always open, and we can eat some ice cream.” she patted your hand, and you nodded again before telling her thank you.

when the day came around that you went to pick up yeosang, you kept telling yourself that everything was going to be okay. the two of you had already talked about just picking up food through the drive-thru and going to eat at the park, seeing as it was a nice day.

“hey angel.” yeosang greeted you as he opened the passenger door of your car, bending down to give you his cheeky smile, “are you sure you wanna drive? i’m more than happy to.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his offer, but you shook your head, “it’s okay, yeo, you’re always driving; i got it this time.”

yeosang just chuckled before taking his seat in the passenger seat, situating it so his long legs could fit in front of him before turning towards you. he leaned over the middle console, waiting for you to lean forward, which you did not long after, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. pulling away, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully at the wide grin that took your place on his lips.

“you ready?” you asked him, and he just hummed before sitting back in the seat, his hand going to your thigh.

it didn’t take too long before you made it to the restaurant; pulling into the drive-thru, you made a quick decision of what you wanted before going to the speaker. the worker greeted you, and you told them what you wanted before looking over at yeosang, who was still looking at the menu.

“just get me whatever you got, baby,” he told you before sitting back and returning to the game he was playing on his phone. you shook your head, a smile tugging on your lips as you turned towards the speaker once more, ready to put your plan into action.

“then my husband wants the same thing,” you told the worker; however, yeosang had stopped playing his game to look over at you, a goofy grin adorning his face. after you made sure that your order was correct, you sat back in your seat to move forward, sparing him a quick glance, “what?” you tried your best to act clueless despite your heart racing under your ribcage.

yeosang just sat there, silent, letting your words fully sink in, the smile never leaving his lips. however, his silence was starting to worry you, even if he was wearing a humongous smile. you swallowed thickly as you paid for the food and took the drinks.

he waited until you finished handing him the food before taking your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours, and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “husband, huh? i like the sound of that.”

산 ── SAN

whenever you had gotten a message from your best friend telling you about a trend that she had seen floating around, you knew that it would be the perfect prank to pull on san. you knew that it could end one of two ways, either he would get shy and just cling himself onto you for the rest of the night, or he would get smug and start teasing you relentlessly. though you would be fine with either of those outcomes, you hoped that he would opt for the first.

you and your friend hadn’t talked in a long time, so you decided to call each other over the weekend. you decided that it would be the perfect opportunity to pull the prank, seeing as she has yet to meet your boyfriend.

so when the weekend rolled around, you told her to call during the time that you knew san would be on his way home from the gym. you sat down at the dining table, talking to her, catching each other up on your current life events, before you heard the front door open.

“is that him?” your friend asked, muffling her giggles when you placed your finger over your lips, but you nodded nonetheless. san walked into the kitchen with a smile spreading on his face when he saw you sitting at the table, his dimples on display.

“hey, baby, how was the gym?” you asked him, a small smile adorning your lips as he set his water bottle down on the counter before walking over to you.

“it was good,” he leaned down, kissing the top of your head before glancing at your phone screen. "what are you up to?”

you moved your phone up enough for him to see your friend, who waved at him, “remember i was calling my friend this weekend?” he nodded, standing behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“who’s this?” your friend asked in mock curiosity as she bit the inside of her cheek, and you had to bite back a smirk of your own.

you looked up at san for a moment before going back to your phone, “this is san, my husband.”

san’s eyes widened in shock as he looked down at you, but you just continued your conversation as if it were a normal day. he had been fully prepared for you to say boyfriend, but he definitely was not prepared for the word ‘husband’ to leave your lips.

you couldn’t help the silly smile that pulled on your lips when san wrapped his arms around your shoulders, burying his face in the crook of your neck. you could tell he was flustered by how warm his cheek was against your skin.

“i’m your husband?” his voice came out in a hushed tone against your skin, causing a shiver to run down your spine, but you just hummed, leaning further into him before reaching up to run your fingers through his slightly damp hair as you continued your conversation with your friend while he clung to you.

민기 ── MINGI

it was saturday night, and you were spinning around in your gaming chair, waiting for mingi to send you a message letting you know that he was ready to hop on. you had made a plan to livestream a new game with mingi for all of your subscribers to watch because that had practically begged you to make another video with your boyfriend. you were almost sure that your subscribers liked him more than you.

just as you were getting ready to grab your phone to message him first, his name popped up on your screen, causing a wide smile to erupt on your face. quickly opening your phone, you went to your and mingi’s chat, seeing that he had said he was ready to go with a little sunglasses emoji. laughing softly, you moved closer to your desk and grabbed your headset before calling mingi.

it didn’t even finish ringing for the second time when mingi picked up, “hey baby.” his voice flowed through your headset, causing a smile to pull your lips even wider.

you greeted him before pulling up the game and making sure everything for the live stream was ready. “ready to go?” you asked him, and you could hear him hum from the other side. taking that as a green light, you started the stream.

after quickly doing your intro, you waited for more people to join the stream before starting the game. a laugh fell from your lips as you read the comments asking if mingi was still going live with you.

“don’t worry, guys. mingi is joining us today. he’s actually here right now.” you clicked a few buttons before letting mingi pop up on the screen next to you.

then came the influx of comments about how cute he was and how he played games so well, or there were the occasional few comments about how cute the two of you were. smiling, you answered a few questions. unbeknownst to you, mingi was watching you through the screen, missing the comment that popped up about someone claiming him as their ‘husband’. rolling your eyes playfully, you situated yourself in your seat before speaking.

“he’s my husband, actually.” your tone was playful, but your words had completely caught the male off guard.

mingi could feel his ears burning red as he tried his best to remain stoic as he watched you move to start the game. his eyes flickered over to the comments, seeing a few about how they would fight you for his attention, and he could tell that they were starting to annoy you, so he tried to push what you had said to the side

“let’s start the game, ya?” he cleared his throat before letting his eyes flicker over to you, and you nodded, getting ready to hit the start button as soon as mingi was in the lobby. however, mingi had completely missed the small smirk that was pulling on the corner of your lip, wanting nothing more than to tease him, knowing that you had made him slightly flustered.

우영 ── WOOYOUNG

it was the end of the month, which meant that you were going to be doing your monthly livestream for all of your fans; however, your boyfriend, wooyoung, decided he was going to join you. it wasn't very often that you were able to have him join your update lives, so you were going to take full advantage of it. you had been doomscrolling on tiktok for the last week and saw the trend of girls going and calling their boyfriends 'husbands' just to see what their reaction was. all of them made you giggle, and you instantly thought of how your dramatic boyfriend would react, so you made a small mental plan ready to capture his possible outburst.

you were in the middle of setting up the camera for the livestream when there was a knock at the door, and wooyoung was peeking into the room. he smiled widely upon seeing the camera that sat in your hand, "almost done, babe? i brought snacks." he told you as he pushed the door fully open to show the bag in his hand, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"you're making it seem like we'll be here all day, woo." you giggled, and he just shrugged with a smile, walking towards you after shutting the door.

wooyoung sets the bag down on your desk, careful not to mess up anything you had prepped, then takes a seat in your chair, legs spread out as he leans back, "for all i know we will be." he teased, and you rolled your eyes before turning to finish setting the camera up before starting the livestream.

you bumped wooyoung out of the way so you could bring the extra chair to sit in, but before you could sit down, your boyfriend stood and took the seat for himself with a smug smirk on his lips as you glared. playfully rolling your eyes, you sat in your chair and clicked a few buttons on your desktop before looking over at wooyoung, "you ready?"

he tugged your chair closer to him as he looked in the camera to fix his hair while you waited, a ghost of a smile on your lips. once he deemed himself presentable, he nodded and sat back, telling you he was good to go.

shaking your head softly, you started the livestream, a wide smile on your lips as your followers started to flood in almost instantly, "hello, everyone! it's so good to talk to you all again and give a life update on my husband and me."

wooyoung's head snapped towards you mid-bite, a look of utter astonishment plastered all over his face. you continued to talk, trying to hold in the laugh that was threatening to break through as you felt his gaze on you.

after a few more short moments, the shock wore off, and he pointed to himself, "did you just call me husband?" he asked loudly, the corner of his lips twitching as you turned to look at him.

"yeah, who else?" you asked, holding back a giggle when he looked from you to the camera lens back to you.

"what? now i'm the one that normally calls you wifey, you don't—haven't called me hubby. husband?" he started to ramble with a smile so wide you were sure it was hurting his cheeks.

"i called you husband just now." you told him like it was a matter-of-fact, lips curling inward to hold in a laugh. eyes flickering over to the comments that were flooding in, your fans were just as excited as wooyoung.

"okay, okay, continue." he nodded towards the camera as he turned to look, but just as you started talking, he interrupted you. "say it again."

"oh, okay." you laughed, fixing your hair before continuing, "me and my husband—"

"husband!" he exclaimed, and you burst out laughing as he continued to freak out over it, the smile on his lips making your heart melt. then he was looking at you expectantly again, "one more time."

you were laughing so hard that it was making your chest hurt, tears pooling in your eyes. wooyoung leaned closer to your desktop to read the comments, his smile never fading, not even an ounce, "husband." he stated, pointing to himself as he leaned back, looking over at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

종호 ── JONGHO

you weren’t entirely sure why you were here, to begin with. your friends had begged and begged you to come to the stupid class reunion, saying that it would be a lot of fun to catch up with one another and that they could finally meet jongho, the man that you had been dating for three years. reluctantly, you agreed and talked to jongho about going. thankfully, he didn’t mind going as long as you were with him.

however, now you are starting to regret your decision to bring your boyfriend along with you. every single time that you turned your back, even if it was for just a split second, you would turn to see yet another female flirting with him. jongho, of course, rejected their advances, pointing over to you, but they just couldn’t seem to catch a hint.

your friends were sure that you were bound to blow a fuse if you turned around to catch another girl trying to touch up on jongho. so they grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to them, causing you to look at them with a raised eyebrow.

“girl, you look like you’re about to behead the next person that so much as looks in his direction,” one of them teased, but you nodded softly before saying that you just might at this point.

laughing nervously, your other friend grabs your wrist before placing something in the palm of your hand. confused, you look down only to become even more confused when you see that she has given you a ring.

“put this on and go tell them to leave your husband alone,” she instructed you, motioning to the ring.

so you did just that. handing her your drink, you slipped the ring onto your ring finger before turning and making your way back to jongho, who was standing by the drink table, trying to ignore the four other women who had started to surround him.

“hey princess,” jongho greeted you as you walked up to him, wrapped your arms around his, and placed a kiss on his cheek. sensing that you were up to something, jongho just watched with an amused gleam in his eyes.

you looked over at the other women, who were either glaring at you or raising an eyebrow. offering them a fake sweet smile, you grabbed jongho’s hand, making a show of the ring on your finger before tilting your head slightly.

“thank you, ladies, for keeping my husband company while i was away, but i got it from here,” you told them, sas lacing your tone. none of them gave you any backtalk and walked away, not trying to draw attention. jongho bit back the smirk as he watched you tell the women off, loving when your jealousy seeped through.

once they were out of sight, jongho pulled his arm from your grasp, causing you to look over at him, getting ready to ask him what was wrong. but he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. he then took your left hand into his, looking at the ring that sat on your finger.

“hmm…” he hummed, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss your palm, “why don’t we replace this with a real one?”

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