Synopsis: Friends to Lovers. A year into college and your friends with a group of guys… but one stands out. They invite you and your roommates to their pool party. A mix of hidden feelings and drunken party decisions…
Genre: College AU, fluff and smut, dom!harua, fem!reader, mean dom!harua, slow burn, Harua x Reader
!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Don’t copy/translate my work. I only write on tumblr.
Author’s Note: I am fairly new to writing but I thought of this idea and wanted to write it out for fun. I love the idea of Dom!Harua and refuse to believe anyone in &Team is sub. ENJOY!
I sat on the couch and let out a heavy sigh. Once again the girls are taking forever to get ready for a party.
“We are gonna be late guys hurry up!” I yelled out into our four bedroom dorm. I got a mix of responses, “Five more minutes” and “Almost done”.
I open my phone to the invitation the boys sent in our group chat, Fuma’s Birthday Splash! The boys always knew how to throw a party, a big party. I stood up at the sound of all three room doors opening. I lean my hand on my hip like a disappointed mom, looking down the hall as all three walked over. I shrug being late and they were always late… what a great mix.
“Hey we still have 20 minutes” Chrystie spoke first, raising her hands up. She wore a black top and jeans over her swimsuit. “We would never dream of being late for Fuma’s birthday!” Kary walked past me to grab our bag of towels on the table. Her usually green color-scheme of a tank-top and soft green shorts. “If we leave now we won’t be late.” Trina patted my shoulder. She wore a soft blue top with matching shorts. “Trying to impress someone?” Trina smirks as she says it.
They all knew who I liked out of the boys… it wasn’t hard to figure out. “Harua will definitely like the outfit…” Chrystie takes a few steps to the door as she spoke. I wore a purple tank top and black jean shorts covering my black and purple bathing suit underneath.“You guys are ridiculous…” I felt my face warm up slightly. We all were close with all the boys, but every time I hung out with Harua it’s different. He’s quiet but such a gentlemen, always trying to make sure everyone was having fun. The girls had their own crushes in the group as well. Though they try to hide it well, I wouldn’t be surprised if the boys already knew. I was more quiet and closed off in comparison to my roommates.
We made our way to the door… More soft teasing followed as we made our way to the pool house, where nine boys and a long night awaited.
We walk up to the entrance of the pool house, being greeted by a smiley Maki wearing a black tank top and blue swimshorts. “Hey! You girls made it!” Maki hugged us each one by one. “Come on! You’re just in time we were just about to get in the pool.” Maki starts leading us to the doors leading out to the pool, I see Kary softly nudge a flustered Trina. “Oooo He hugged you” “Shut up Kary!” I let out a laugh along with Chrystie, this is gonna be a fun night.
We followed Maki outside, a large white tiled patio with a large pool in the center. Two tables set up on either side of the door way with snacks and drinks. Decorations of Pokémon references and designs scattered across the patio along with string lights hanging above the edge of the patio. Taki sat with Fuma on the edge of the pool, both already shirtless, looking ready to jump in. K, Ej, and Jo were setting out the rest of the snacks and drinks, while Yuma, Nicholas, and Harua stood by the opposite end of the patio talking. “Guys! The girls are here!”
All the attention turned to us as we walked outside, the boys making their way over to greet us. I was lost in looking at the decorations as Taki ran over giving me a tight hug, “Y/N!” I hug him back and he lets go with a big smile before going to hug the others. “Surprised you weren’t late.” I laugh as I hug K wearing a black t-shirt with black swimshorts, he always seems taller every time I see him. “Hey short stack!” I roll my eyes as I break a hug from Nicholas in his all black color way with his tank-top and shorts, “Quit calling me that!” “Never” He lets out a laugh as he pats my head.
I turn to Harua, who’s watching as each one of the guys hug and greets us. He wore a white t-shirt with dark blue swimshorts, looking over at me and smiling, “Hey… Cute outfit.” His voice was soft yet rough. I cross my arms at his compliment, “Purple and black are my colors.” He lets out a laugh as he gives me a soft hug. Harua scratches the back of his neck as we break from the hug, “Oh, later i wanted to talk to you about something…” I look at him confused, but Yuma’s voice broke through my thoughts, “Alright pool time!” Just like that, Yuma and Taki slipped of their shirts and jumped right into the water. We all laugh as Fuma joins them soon after. “You girls better be getting in!” Fuma yelled from the pooled at us. Harua softly nudged me as he started making his way to join them, “He wont forgive you guys if you say no!” I laugh as I turn to the girls who are laughing as one by one the boys jumped into the pool. “Your wish is our command birthday boy!” Kary headed to set down our towel bag at a pair of chairs for us. “We are gonna head inside to change!” Chrystie yelled out to the boys, half in the pool already and the others getting ready to jump in. “Don’t be long!” Ej’s voice echoed as we walked into the pool house. We all were laughing, “Jeez, we haven’t even had a drink yet!” Trina wipes her face from laughing so much.
We changed and headed back outside, the boys already all in the pool now splashing eachother or just talking. Chrystie and I grab everyone drinks on our way out, while Kary and Trina joined the boys in the pool, “Holy shit it’s cold!” Trina looks at the boys and then at me and Chrystie as we laughed at her reaction. We passes everyone their drinks before joining them in the pool. “The cold is actually really nice” I look at Trina who is staring daggers at me, “Your Insane!” Harua watched from the opposite end of the pool with K and Ej, laughing as I splashed Kary and Trina with water. His eyes watched me since I got here, while I was completely unaware. Ej nudged his younger friend, “Are you gonna just watch her all night again?” Harua took a sip of his drink in response. “Come on, you have been talking about asking her.” Harua let out a sigh as he ran a hand through his wet hair, “I know. I’m going to ask her later… hopefully.” I glanced at Harua for a second as I splashed Trina, his slightly wet hair slicked back and his toned upper body in full view.I bite my lip trying to keep from staring, then Trina splashes me back, making me knock out of my thoughts to get revenge.
As the night went on, one drink after another, we were all pretty drunk. We all sat on one side of the pools edge, talking as we took sips of drinks and bites of snacks. I was leaning against the edge of the pool chatting with K about some dance ideas while Fuma and Yuma listened and adding in. The others were nearby chatting about their own things. “Harua are you listening?” Kary’s question knocked him out of his head, he was to busy watching how close Yuma was getting to me. “Hm? Sorry Kary I sorta heard.” She crossed her arms, “You didn’t hear a single word.” Harua took a sip of his drink trying to not turn his attention back to Yuma and me. “Wait… are you jealous?” Chrystie’s comment made Harua stop mid sip; was he jealous? “No, im not.” It came out rougher than intended as he subsided sipping his drink. Trina looked at him not believing a word, “Sure and im taller then Jo” Jo chuckles at her comeback. “Let’s test that, shall we?” Harua looks at Ej with a glare at his challenge, but before he can fight it, Ej made his way over to us across the way.
Harua watched with a clenched jaw, as Ej went over and hugged me from behind suddenly. “Hey Juju, you scared me.” Ej calmly hugged me as he joined the conversation, every second of it made Harua more and more tense, the alcohol in his system was not helping. “You’re definitely jealous Rua.” Nicholas sipped his drink, nudging his younger friend, “It written all over your face.” Harua turn to Nicholas with a harsh glare, a complete parallel to his soft demeanor. “This is not funny Nico…” His voice was low and rough as he spoke, unamused by their test of his jealousy. While he wasn’t looking Ej had pulled the rest of us over to the group, “What’s not funny?” Harua went stiff as I swam between him and Nicholas, oblivious to the devilish smirk on Nico’s face. Harua ran a hand through his hair, “Nothing, Nico is being an idiot” Nicholas laughed, “Right, right.”
While they bickered, I was busy looking at Harua as he spoke, hand running through his wet hair, toned upper body with soft drops of water running down his chest. I felt my thighs tighten shut, but Nicholas patting my head knocked me out of my thoughts, “Short Stack, What about you?” “What? Sorry I spaced out…” As I looked up at Nicholas, I see Chrystie smirking next to him, she knew I didn’t just space out… I was daydreaming. “How tipsy are you?” I shift to stand up straight, “Hm, I’m pretty buzzed.” “She is drunk, she more fidgety then normal.” Trina pointed at my hands, I kept on my rings, and I was fidgeting them on my fingers non-stop. “Harua, How about you?” Ej had a slight smirk on his face as he nudged Harua out of his head. He was now doing the same thing I was before, scanning my face which was framed by my short wet hair, eyes falling lower to the black and purple swimsuit hugging my chest. He stutters slightly before answering Ej, turning away before I caught onto his stare, “I’m uh… I’m pretty drunk.” He shifts his weight as he stood in the pool, then feels me softly tap his arm. “Want another?” I point to the empty bottle hes been holding onto like a lifeline. “Yea… thanks” I smile as I softly grab the bottle from his hand, our hands softly making contact. His eyes followed me as I hopped out of the pool and went to grab a couple of drinks before hopping right back in and handing him a new drink. I smile again as I hand him the drink, too tipsy to really read his expression.
We all stood in the pool chatting about class, life, and anything random like video games and movies. Every so often I’d steal a flame at Harua, his soft smile showing when Taki made a bad joke, taking sips of his drink every now and again. When I wasn’t he did the same to me, a glance when I would laugh at the boys or spoke excitedly about something Pokemon related to Fuma. “Rua~ Help me out here, Leafeon is the best Eeveelution.” “Nope, Eevee is the best” “It’s the base for the eeveelutions that doesn’t count.” Harua let out a laugh and pat my head, “Your not winning that argument with him, you know,” I pout and nudge Harua, “So much for backup!” Harua sips his drink and leans down slightly, even he was taller than me, “You will be fine.” I look at him, then turn away and softly push his chest, making him laugh and grab my wrist, “Not my fault you chose a losing battle, princess” I feel my face getting hot and my ears turned red, I slightly glare at him, “Why do you keep calling me that?” He randomly started calling me that one day, out of the blue, and it just stuck. “The tomboy being called princess is ironic maybe.” Maki shrugged as spoke, “Maybe I can start-“ “Don’t you dare” Harua glared at Maki at even thinking it. “Nicholas can call her his nickname, I have mine.” He lets go of my wrist, letting me lower my hand from his chest. “Right?” He ran a hand through his hair as he asked, I just nod and avoid staring again. Maki pouted at his older friend, “Ugh, you guys took the good nicknames!” “You can call her short stack too I don’t care.” Nicholas raised his hands giving Maki the okay.
“I don’t need all of you calling me short stack!” Nicholas sticks his tongue out at me, making me do the same back. Nicholas look over me at Harua, “Get your girl Rua, she’s all bark and no bite.” “Hey! I do bite don’t test me!” Harua looked at him and rolled his eyes, then hugged me from behind, keeping a distance between us, more so for his sake, “Alright, let’s not bite he might like it.” Harua smirks at Nicholas who looked at him wide eyed. “I knew it!” Chrystie laughed making Nicholas look at her, “Don’t encourage him!” “What im just saying, not a surprise” Nicholas rolled his eyes at the girl who was hugging him for forgiveness. I laugh at the banter as I hold Harua’s arms that are wrapped around me, “Chrystie you should bite him-“ Harua covered my mouth trying to not laugh at my suggestion, “Shut up” His voice was close to my ear making my legs tighten shut. He rested his forehead on my shoulder holding back laughter. Nicholas turn to me and looked at me with a comical look of shock, “Seriously?! I feel like I’m getting shamed here!” I pull Harua’s hand off my mouth, “Hey in your defense, I like the pain of tattoos so…” I feel Harua’s head shoot up from my shoulder at my confession, “Wait what? That’s a thing?” Taki asked the question Harua was thinking, “Well yea, if you like pain, tattoos are sometimes… stimulating.” Nicholas looked at me, “See I’m not the only kinky one here!” “Never said you were” Ej let out a laugh, no one was surprised about him, they were, however, shocked it’s being so open. I couldn’t see Harua’s expression of curiosity over my shoulder, but Kary gave me an idea, “Harua, how did you not know that? You look shocked” “Cause I am. I didn’t know that was normal.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he pulled me closer to him, closing some distance between us, “Good to know…” I felt my body tense up at his voice, feeling my ears get more red and feeling heat crawl up my neck and face.
Harua chuckled against my ear, before shifting his focus to my hands. I wasn’t holding his arms anymore as I was fidgeting with the rings on my hands. He uses one hand to grab my hands, “Nervous, princess?” His whispered into my ear, making the heat in my face worse. “N-no…” I stuttered out as he chuckled against my ear, softly lowering his face into the curve of my neck.
Yuma splashes me and Harua, making him raise his head just enough from my neck to look at Yuma unaffected, “Really Yuyu?” Yuma laughs, “Let the girl breathe she looks like a strawberry.” I cover my face at the call out, making Harua look over my shoulder trying to pull my hands off my face. “Oh, is she?” “Nope I’m not!” I glare at Yuma through my hands making him laugh. Harua pulls my waist, my body flush against his, my hands still covering my wide eyed expression from feeling his sudden closeness. Yuma starts teasing a flustered Chrystie and Kary who are clinging to Nicholas and K. I uncover my face trying to make the red flush on my face go away. He shifts behind me, pulling me against him, making me feel the outline in his swinshorts, “Who knew you were so easy to fluster?” His voice was low in my ear as he teased me. This is a different side of him, flirty and bold in comparison to his gentle and quiet demeanor. I try to ignore his teasing but my body betrays me, softly shifting my weight and my legs tightly closed together. “Sh…Shut up Harua…” It came out quiet like a soft whine, making him smirk against my ear as his grip on my waist tightened, “Not happening, princess…”
The next few minutes felt like forever, everyone was chatting and drinking, while i was taking sips of my drink trying to hide the blush on my face. When Harua would join the conversation, he would shift my waist making me feel his bare chest on my back and the outline of him. He was driving me crazy and he knew it, every so often whispering in my ear when I would move trying to ignore it and failing, “So quiet suddenly, something wrong princess?” He shifts me against him against, his length pushing against me making my breath hitch. “Anyone hungry? I made some food earlier we can eat instead of snacking all night.” EJ’s voice calm voice tore through the conversation between the group, “Yes! I’m food sounds great right now.” Chrystie was holding Nicholas’ arm as she spoke. Harua whispered in my ear again, “Im hungry but not for food…” I feel him push against me again, making me stop breathing for a second. He was pushing to get reactions and it was working, too well. I slip out of his grip before I exploded, following Chrystie and Nicholas out of the pool. Harua chuckled behind me, watching me try to run from him before following everyone out of the pool into the beach house.
We head inside, the boys putting their shirts back on, with the except of Nicholas and Fuma who kept them off. Ej started preparing everyone plates of food with the help of Jo. The girls and I went over to the room to change and started questioning me immediately, “What is happnening with Harua? You looked flustered for once.” Trina looked at me curious as Chrystie grilled me for answers. “N-nothing” I failed at lying with a stutter. “Bullshit, You looked like a tomato as he hugged you.” Kary pointed at me. “He was holding you close, like he wasn’t gonna let you go.” Trina smirks at me, knowing there was something happening, “Never took Harua as the flirty type, let alone bold” I try to ignore them but feel my ears still red, “You can even hide it! The alcohol is making it more obvious, and making him more…touchy.” I feel my eyes go wide thinking about what he was doing, pushing his hard length against me and whispering in my ear to see my reactions. I feel my face heat up again at the ideas my head was giving me, and it was like the girls could read my mind, “Oh… she’s imagining things…” I look at Chrystie with a glare of shock, “N-No stop I’m not” I finish changing and wait by the door, “Hurry up im hungry…’ “Hungry for Harua” “Trina!”
We made our way back out, the boys were sat around the couch in the main room. Jo and Ej passed us our plates of food, i sat between Harua and Maki and started eating trying to ignore the chuckled escaping Harua when I sat down. Maki wraps his arm around me and another around Trina, “You girls having fun?” I softly nod with a mouthful of food. “Y-Yea this has been fun.” Trina tried to act cool and fails, while Maki is oblivious to his effects on her. Harua grabs Maki’s arm and moves it off of me before leaning back into the couch. Maki looks at him, “Hey Im being friendly!” “Too friendly.” His response to Maki was laced with something, his voice was low and he didn’t look him in the eyes. I swallow my food and tap Harua on the knee, making him shift his focus to me in an instant, “He is being nice, we always do this.” Harua clenched his jaw lightly, as much as he knew all the boys were comfortable with being clingy with us, he didint like them clingy to me at all. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, despite his feelings, but Ej spoke up for him, “Jealous much, Harua?” Harua shoots him a glare, then avoids all eye contact with my confused expression, “Jealous?” His jaw clenched hard, cursing Ej in his head. “It’s not hard to notice, especially when hes drunk.” Harua was staring knifes into Ej, trying to tell him to shut with his look. He stayed leaned back on the couch as he ran a hand through his damp hair in frustration. “ignore him, hes full of shit” I put my plate down on the table and look at him fully, “Your reaction says otherwise…” A small smirk appeared on my face and his gaze turned to me, filled with something dark. I turn around softly laughing, then get an idea… “Why don’t we play spin the bottle?” The boys all perk up at the idea, except Harua, whose jaw was clenched harder then ever and his hands gripping his knees. “Oh this will be fun!” Yuma smirked and went to grab an empty bottle from the pool house kitchen.
Yuma rushed back in excitement, “I know who I hope to kiss out of you four…” A smirk covered his face as he looked around, and Harua was watching him like he was gonna throw the bottle at him. “But, I’ll let someone else spin first… Jo you go.” Jo grabs the bottle hesitantly from Yuma, and softly spins it…. It lands on me, and I look at Jo who is not leaning back in his seat, “I leave it to you if you want to…” He spoke calm but I sensed slight hesitation. I see Ej and Yuma, look at Harua, I don’t dare look back at him. Harua was sat back in his seat still, but had his head back trying to hold in whatever was in his head. I softly stood up, making him shift his focus to watch me walk over to Jo. I softly peck Jo on the lips and then headed back to my seat, “There, who’s next?” I feel Harua sit upright next to me, gripping my thigh tight and leaning into my ear, “Your coming with me princess.” Before I could respond he grabs my hand and pulls me into a room down the hall. “You guys can play.” His voice was stern as he pulled me into the room and shut the door.
As he closed the door he pushed me against the door, pinning me by my waist with one hand and the other leaning against the door. His eyes were dark, along with his voice that was low, “Happy now? Making me jealous for fun?” His hand gripping my waist tightened while he got closer, “I… uh” I could barely form a thought as he hovered his lips over mine, “I had you a flustered mess in the pool… or did you forget?” Instead of kissing my lips, he trailed kisses along my jaw and down my neck, adding harsh biting to leave marks. “H-Haru..” I barely breath out his name, making him smirk against my neck, biting harder in response making my breathing hitch. The hand leaning on the door found its way to my hair, as he tugged it back to expose more of my neck to him. My hand found its way to his chest while the other softly gripped his hair. He bit down my collarbone, leaving trails of bite marks and hickeys all over any bite of bare skin he could. He stops and grips my neck with the hand that was in my hair, softly choking me enough to make my breathing slow as he went up to my ear, “All quiet now, hm? Can’t fight back, princess?” I feel his grip on my throat get tighter slightly making me softly whine. He smirks and finally kisses me, both hands grabbing my waist and pulling me flush with his body. My hands found their way to his neck, pulling him as close as I could making him smile against the kiss with a deep chuckle, “I’ve been waiting to kiss you…” His voice was low but more gentle, unlike the hunger in his kiss, biting my lower lip before slipping his tongue past my lips.
The kiss grew more and more needy and hungry, his hands starting to trail my body while my hands slide down his chest pulling his shirt. One of his hands grabbed my ass hard pulling me against him to feel how hard he was, harder then he was in the pool. I whine against his lips, making him bit my lip again, “Fuck…” He came out low and breathless as he cursed into the kiss. He breaks the kiss and doesn’t give me a second to breathe before suddenly picking me up, wrapping my legs around his waist before his lips found mine again. He pressed me against the door, his hard length right against my core, making me moan his name into the kiss. He breaks the kiss and give me a second to breathe, smirking as he watched the rise and fall of my chest, “We are just starting princess…”
He carries me over to the bed, shocking me by the amount of strength he has, then laying me down on the bed as he hovered over me. His eyes traveled along with his hands, tracing over the straps of my tank top to the waistband of my shorts. “Harua…” He looks at me with a smirk, “Your gorgeous princess… and yet-“ His hand slipped into the waist of my shorts, slowing trailing down over the only piece of fabric over my core. “So wet already, hm? God you’re so needy princess” I let out a whimper and tried looking away from him, but he leaned down catching my lips with his as his fingers slip past my panties, slipping two fingers into my core. A moan escaped my lips as he kissed me, stealing the sound. He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against mine, pumping his fingers in my core and curling them against my sensitive spots. My head went back and I hear a deep chuckle, I felt myself tighten around his fingers as I bit my lip trying to stay quiet, “Come on princess, let me hear how good this feels…” I shake my head trying to fight every urge, making him grip my throat with his freehand, “Be good for me, baby, or I stop…” I let out a whine as he stops moving his fingers, smirking as I shift my hips looking for his hand. His grip on my throat got tight, “So fucking needy, after making me so jealous all night.” “H-Harua…I didn’t-“ The words died in my throat as his fingers moved again curling up and a moan followed. I felt pressured building in my core, and just as I thought I could have sweet release, he pulled his fingers complete from my core. I look up at him, a devilish smirk on his lips as he licked my slick from his fingers, “So sweet princess… but you’re gonna cum on my cock…”
He moved quick before my mind could recover, he slipped off his shirt tossing it somewhere in the room. He pulled me onto his lap, my legs straddling him with a harsher angle to feel him hard against my sensitive core. I reach to kiss him but he leans back on his hands, god dammit he looked good from here, his hair was still slightly damp and messy as he stayed leaned back shirtless with a smirk on his lips. “First,” his eyes traveled down to my top, “…That comes off” I shyly lift the tank top over my head and as it came off, he grabs it from my hands tossing it. “Good girl…” I feel my core grip at nothing at that, and he sees in my reaction how much I liked it. He leans forward, gripping my hips and pushing me down onto him, “Your mine, princess…” With that, His lips found mine again, his hand going down to my ass shifting me more onto his lap while the other into my hair deepening the kiss. The hand on my ass shifts to the front of my shorts undoing them, as he tugged at them, “Take it off, baby..” He barely breaks the kiss with his command as I slip my shorts and panties off, as he lowered his sweats just enough to free his cock of them.
He gives me no less then a second before gripping my hips and sinking himself into me, I could barely adjust to his size, he was way bigger then I thought. I wrap my arms around him digging my nails into his back, making him groan at the sting. “Fuck, princess, you are so tight…” He shifts slightly and feels me tighten around him, as I let out a whine at the slightest movement, burying my face is his neck.
“H-ha..haru”
“Come on, baby, use your words”
“S-so…b-big…”
He grips my hips, helping me move as he pushed up into me. My nails dug into his back as he bit down on my neck, “Shit, you are begging for me…” He guided my hips into a slow but dangerous pace, already feeling my core building pressure. He could feel it too, the way I gripped him as he moved my hips, “Move for me, princess..” I pull my head from his neck and kiss him, slowly building pace on my own, I feel him growl into the kiss. “That’s it, so good for me” Filthy praises came from in every few moments as I moved on his cock, my core close to release as he gripped my hips and suddenly flipped me back onto the bed.
The instant I was under him, his pace became rough, deep and harsh thrusts of need as he keeps his lips on mine. He kissed me stealing every whine and moan from my lips, “Such a good girl for me, taking me so good… Fuck~” He lefts my legs higher around his waist pushing deeper, almost hitting my cervix without every thrust. “H…Haru- I’m c-clo…” “Can barely talk, can you princess? Go ahead… cum for me.” His thrusts got quicker and messy, chasing his release with mine. One devastating thrust made me crumble under him, legs softly shook as I felt myself tighten around him like a lifeline. He growled and bit the sweet spot on my neck hard ,barely breaking skin, as his release crashed into him as well. He pulsed against the tight hold of me, releasing the bite on my neck to plant a messy kiss on my lips. He leaned his forehead on mine when we separated, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this…” the confession came out in his normal gentle tone, though out of breath. “Me..too” He lets out a chuckle, gentle pulling of me, planting a kiss on my lips, “Let’s clean up and head back, we could get in the pool again…I wanna see you in that swimsuit again….” I see a smirk on his lips as he spoke. “Maybe round two in there…?” I roll my eyes, stealing one more soft kiss from his lips.
.ᐟwarnings/tags: dealer/stoner!nicho, i call him weno in this, soft dom!nicho, shy!reader, loverboy!nicho, drug use, shotgunning, romantic, making out, dry humping, praising, fingering, oral (f. receiving), p in v, mating press, crying, unprotected sex, confessing, aftercare
♡ you started buying weed for your friends and ended up falling for the dealer—turns out, he fell even harder.
.ᐟwc: 9.7k (no proofread)
You’d seen him around long before you ever spoke to him. He wasn’t the kind of guy you could ignore. Not because he was loud, Weno was anything but loud, but because he had this presence. Calm, quiet, and detached, like nothing ever really touched him. He was always there but just out of reach. The kind of person who didn’t care if people were watching, but somehow still ended up being the one everyone looked at. You had a couple classes near the same buildings. He always showed up late, always dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed—big hoodie, baggy jeans, backpack hanging off one shoulder. Never rushed. Never looked stressed. Just there. He’d walk past where you and your friends were sitting on the grass and barely glance your way. But even that one second felt heavier than it should. You didn’t know much about him, but you noticed him. You always had. Weno wasn’t exactly a mystery, everyone on campus knew what he did, they just didn’t talk about it. Not out loud, anyway. The stories passed around in whispers. That he sells, and it’s good shit too. That he never chased customers, people came to him. That if he liked you, he might give you more than you paid for. That if he really liked you, you’d know.
You didn’t know if any of that was true. But what you did know was that your friends wanted weed and were too scared to go get it themselves. So they asked you. Apparently, being the quiet one made you the designated “safe” option. It wasn’t like you and Weno were strangers, anyway. You’d talked a few times now. Nothing long, quick chats during pickups, the occasional hi at a party when you passed by each other. He’d never made you feel weird or unsafe. Just… flustered. A little warm in the chest, a little unsure what to say next. He had a way of watching you that felt deliberate, even when he said nothing at all. Your friend had shoved some cash into your hand at the last minute, babbling about how “he’s chill, he’s not scary, just please go for me, I can’t” — and you’d sighed, texting him before you could overthink it. He told you to meet him behind the dorms. 6:30. You almost didn’t go. You weren’t sure why he made you nervous, he hadn’t done anything to deserve that label. But something about him felt sharp beneath all the calm. Like he could see through you if he wanted to. When you rounded the corner that evening, he was already leaning against the side of his car, phone in hand, headphones around his neck. The sun was low, painting the edges of his face gold. You caught yourself staring before you could stop. He looked up as you approached. “Didn’t expect you,” he said, not moving. You blinked, “Why?” He shrugged, “Thought one of your loud friends would be the one to show. You’re not really the type to do this.” It wasn’t teasing exactly, but the way he said it made your face warm. You cleared your throat. “They made me come.” “Mm,” he hummed. “Figured.”
He pushed off the car, pulling a ziplock from his hoodie pocket. You reached for it automatically, but he didn’t hand it over right away. “You ever tried it?” You shook your head. “No. It’s not really… my thing.” He tilted his head slightly. Not judging, just observing. “Didn’t think it was.” he chuckled softly, then he handed it to you, fingers brushing yours for half a second too long. You looked down at your hand, not at the bag, but at where your skin still tingled. “You’re good,” he said quietly, “Let me know next time.” You nodded, muttered a soft thanks, already starting to turn away, but then he said your name. You froze and glanced back. He was still standing by his car, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily spinning his keys around his finger. The way he looked at you made your stomach flip, like he wasn’t just looking at you, but through you. “You always do stuff for your friends?” His tone was casual, but the question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugged a little. “They want something, and you’re the one who shows up.” A pause. “That happen a lot?”You weren’t sure how to answer. It did happen a lot. They asked, you went. Not because you wanted to, but because it felt easier than saying no. You glanced down at the ziplock in your hand. “I guess,” you mumbled. “I don’t know.” He hummed low, like that told him everything he needed to know. You looked back up, ready to say something else—anything, maybe even defend yourself, but he beat you to it. “You’re a good girl.” The words were soft and genuine, but they landed heavy. Your breath caught. His gaze didn’t waver—steady, calm, like he hadn’t just said something that made your skin go warm all over. You didn’t know what to do with that. You didn’t even know what it meant coming from him. You just knew it made something flutter in your stomach. “Thanks,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. You turned and walked off a little too quickly, heart pounding, ears hot, his voice still echoing behind your ribs. You’re a good girl. You didn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. It wasn’t long before your friends asked again. Same excuse, same tone, a whiny “please, he already knows you” and cash pushed into your hand like you owed them something. You hesitated more this time. Not because of them, but because of him. You hadn’t stopped thinking about last time. It replayed in your head again and again. You stared at his contact in your phone for some minutes before typing out the message.
You
hey my friends wanna grab again
He replied two minutes later.
Weno
same place 7:30
When you showed up this time, he was inside his car, driver’s door open, music playing low through the speakers. He looked up as you approached and smiled, lazy and half-lidded. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Hey.”You tried not to sound nervous. You weren’t even sure why you were nervous. This wasn’t new. You’d done this before. But this time, it felt different. You felt different. He stepped out, shutting the car door behind him as he pulled the same ziplock from the pocket of his jeans. You took it wordlessly, but his fingers brushed yours again, on purpose this time. You could feel it in the way he didn’t rush, didn’t pull away immediately. “Still not trying it?” he asked, tilting his head. You shook your head. “Not yet.” He raised a brow. “Why not?” “I just… haven’t.” You tucked the bag quickly into your jacket pocket like it might deflect the attention. “You scared?” The way he asked it wasn’t mocking, just curious, like he wanted to understand you, not challenge you. You hesitated. “No,” you said finally. “Just don’t wanna.” He nodded slowly, watching you again with that unreadable expression. “Still doing things for your friends, though.” You pressed your lips together. “I guess.” “They ever do stuff for you?” You blinked. “What?” He shrugged. “Just wondering.” You didn’t answer. Mostly because you didn’t have one. He could probably tell, because he didn’t push. He just looked at you for a long second, eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up to meet your gaze as he rolled a blunt for him. “You should stop letting people use you.” The bluntness of it caught you off guard. You shifted on your feet, unsure whether to say thank you or tell him it wasn’t like that, even though maybe it was. “You don’t even like them that much, do you?” Your breath hitched. “They’re my friends.” “Mm,” he hummed. “If you say so.”
After that, it happened a few more times. The same routine: a text, a time, a quiet walk behind the dorms where he’d be waiting. Sometimes he was standing. Sometimes in the driver’s seat with the door open. Sometimes already smoking, low music humming from the speakers. And each time, it got a little easier to look him in the eye. But also harder not to look too long. Weno never talked much. He didn’t fill silence just to hear himself speak. He asked things, small things, personal in ways that didn’t feel invasive, just seen. He was trying to piece you together quietly, without making a show of it. You’d come with your friends’ money in your pocket and leave with more than you paid for. Not every time, but enough that you noticed. When you offered to give him more, he just shook his head, said “You’re good,” and he meant it, it wasn’t just about the cash anymore. You didn’t tell your friends about how often you started going. Sometimes it wasn’t even about picking up anymore. You’d hand over the cash, but he’d wave it off. “Not this time.” You started to wonder if he even gave you real amounts. If this was still a deal or just an excuse. What you did know was that somewhere along the way, something started to shift.
It was in the way your pulse picked up when his name lit up your screen. In how you started getting ready earlier than you needed to. In how you made sure your outfit and make up was cute before leaving, like that would help keep your face from giving you away when he looked at you like he always did. It was on the low. No one really knew how often you were seeing him now—certainly not your friends. To them, it was still just you doing the awkward task they were too scared for. They didn’t know that half the time you went to Weno now, it wasn’t even because of them. Sometimes they didn’t ask at all—you just found yourself texting him anyway. And he always said yes. You weren’t sure when it stopped being about weed. You weren’t sure it ever really was. Sometimes you’d sit with him for a while. In the passenger seat of his car, parked in the same quiet lot behind the dorms. He’d roll one and lean back with the window cracked, slow smoke curling out into the night while music filled the silence. He never pushed anything on you. Never asked why you stayed. But you stayed. You weren’t good at talking about yourself, and he didn’t make you. He just gave you space to exist, and maybe that was what started doing it. Maybe that’s why you kept feeling warmer every time you saw him. More sure that he saw you. And you started to open up to him. You two would hang out and talk about anything and anyone very frequently.
You were curled up in the passenger seat, legs tucked under you, jacket zipped halfway. The night was cool, and the air smelled like weed and cologne, smoke curling from the blunt between his fingers. His playlist low in the background that made it feel like time moved slower in his car. You hadn’t said much in the last ten minutes. Just sat there, letting the silence hang. But it wasn’t awkward. Weno never made things awkward. You gave him a small smile, eyes drifting out the window. The streetlights cast a warm glow across the dashboard. He tapped the ash into the tray and leaned back, one arm stretched across the back of your seat like he didn’t even think about it. “I don’t get it,” you said quietly after a moment. “You do this with all your clients?” “Do what?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly, playful but unreadable. “This.” You motioned vaguely between you. “Sit in the car, talk like this, not charge them.” He chuckled once, deep and soft in his chest. “No.” You blinked. “No?” He turned his head, looked right at you, and shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “They’re not you.” Your stomach fluttered. You tried to play it off, but your smile gave you away. He tilted his head slightly, watching you through the soft haze in the car. “You know you’re my favorite, right?” Your head snapped toward him. “What?” He smirked, exhaled a slow breath, eyes never leaving yours. “Client,” he added after a beat, but the pause was on purpose. His smirk deepened like he knew what he was doing to you. Your face went warm immediately. “Shut up,” you muttered, covering your smile with your hand. “I’m serious.” His tone was calm. “You don’t talk much, you don’t ask dumb questions, you never waste my time.” “Oh,” you said quietly. But your smile stayed. “So I’m convenient.” He leaned a little closer, voice dropping low. “Nah. You’re cute.” Your heart jumped. You didn’t know where to look. You didn’t know what to say. So you laughed—awkward and soft, trying to bury your face in your hands like that might cool your cheeks. You left a little later than usual that night.
Three days later, when your screen lit up with a text from him, you answered in less than a minute.
Weno
u free tonight?
wanna chill for a bit?
♡
You
yeah :)
same spot?
♡
Weno
pull up at 10
no rush
You tried not to read into it too much. But you still picked out a different hoodie this time, your favorite one, did a little extra on your make up, styled your hair in way you knew framed your face best. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t anything. But your hands still felt warm as you walked out to meet him. His car was already there when you arrived. You climbed into the passenger seat, familiar now with the way the door stuck a little when you pulled it. Same playlist was on, and the heat was turned up just enough to make the inside feel cozy. He glanced over as you settled in, eyes flicking down to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. “Hey,” he said, voice smooth, quiet. “Hey,” you murmured back, smiling a little.
The next hour passed easily, like it always did when you were with him. You talked about nothing and everything, classes, music, random campus drama you weren’t even involved in, movies you both halfway remembered, the last weird dream you had. He laughed more than usual tonight, low and slow, eyes squinting a little when something you said caught him off guard. His hand rested on the steering wheel as he listened, thumb tapping the leather in a lazy rhythm. He made you feel comfortable, like whatever you had to say mattered even if it didn’t. Like he was listening just because it was you talking. At some point, he lit up. You were mid-sentence when he leaned forward to spark the lighter, the soft flick of it barely cutting into the music. He offered it to you once out of habit, holding the blunt out between two fingers, and this time you didn’t shake your head immediately. You hesitated. Then, before you could overthink it, you took it. Your fingers brushed his. His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze lingered longer than before. “You sure?” he asked, voice soft, a little more serious now. You slowly nodded. “Yeah. Just—don’t laugh at me if I cough.” He smiled, “I won’t.” He leaned back into his seat. “Promise.” You inhaled, a small hit, like you’d seen him do a hundred times now. It burned, made your throat tickle, your eyes water just a little, but you didn’t cough. He watched carefully, still smiling. “Good girl,” he murmured.
Your chest tightened at the words, heat blooming under your skin before you could stop it. You handed it back to him quickly, trying to focus on the burn in your lungs, the soft thrum of bass in the background, anything except how warm you suddenly felt. Time got slower after that. An hour passed in a haze, soft laughter, lazy conversation, both of you sinking deeper into your seats, the windows fogging slightly. He smoked again, and passed it back and forth to you. Your body felt lighter. Music melted into the background, his voice a little rough now. You both stared out at the empty parking lot for a while, just existing. It was quiet in the way that felt close, not awkward. Every time your knee brushed his, he didn’t move. Every time you shifted, his eyes flicked toward your mouth, then back to the road like he didn’t want to get caught looking. And maybe it was the high, or the way the space between you had been shrinking since the start, but something changed. You turned to say something and caught him already looking at you, staring. His arm was still draped behind your seat, but now his fingers were brushing your shoulder, light and casual. You blinked at him. “What?” you whispered, voice lower than before. He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you for a long second, eyes warm, thoughtful. “C’mere.” You didn’t even think. You just leaned forward, heart thudding quietly behind your ribs as his hand slid slowly to the back of your neck. He tilted his head slightly. His lips brushed yours soft at first, testing. Then again, firmer. You leaned into it. Your heart stuttered, hands unsure of where to go. One found the edge of his hoodie. The other pressed lightly to his chest. His mouth moved against yours like he’d been thinking about this for a while. He wasn’t in any rush now that it was finally happening. You kissed him back slow, high and a little breathless, your skin buzzing all over. He pulled back eventually, just enough to look at you, eyes dark and steady.
“You’re high,” he said, almost teasing. “So are you,” you whispered. He smiled, gaze dropping to your lips again. “Yeah. But I still meant it.” You smiled, small and dazed, and tucked your legs under you again, curling back into your seat. The car was quiet for a few more minutes. Nothing changed. But everything had. And when you finally said you should go, he didn’t stop you. Just nodded, reached over, and opened the door for you like he always did. Before you stepped out, he caught your wrist gently. You turned back. His eyes searched yours for a moment. “Text me when you get in.” You nodded, “Okay.”
You
made it home :)
♡
Weno
good
was starting to think u got lost
♡
You
nope
just still thinking
♡
Weno
about?
♡
You
you
♡
Weno
yeah?
what part
♡
You
the obvious part
♡
Weno
mm
i liked that part too
didn’t rlly want u to go
♡
You
u didn’t?
♡
Weno
nah
wanted to kiss u again
♡
You
i wanted to too
but i got nervous :(
♡
Weno
it’s ok bby
will i see u again soon?
♡
You
yeah
if u want to
♡
Weno
i do
♡
You
can’t wait
goodnight weno :)
♡
Weno
me neither
gn <3
You didn’t stop thinking about that night. Or his texts. Or when he said he wanted to kiss you again. The way your heart stuttered when he called you bby like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it was already normal between you. It wasn’t, not really. But it was starting to be. You’d kept texting after that. Not every second of the day, but enough. Little check-ins, good mornings, music recs, late night questions that felt heavier than they sounded. He was never overly forward, not the type to blow up your phone or say things just to get a reaction, but everything he did say stuck with you. You were head over heels. Smiling at your phone and then burying your face in your pillow like an idiot every time. So when one of your friends mentioned the party coming up—some frat guy’s birthday, everyone was going, “you have to come, it’s gonna be huge”—you didn’t think much of it at first. Until she added, casually, “Pretty sure Weno’s gonna be there too, so you can’t get us some stuff as well?” That made your heart skip. You played it off, said “yeah, cool” and shrugged, but your brain had already started spiraling. What if you saw him? What if you didn’t? What if he ignored you in front of everyone? What if he didn’t? You told yourself you weren’t going for him. But you still stood in front of your closet longer than usual. You picked a dress—short, tight, something you hadn’t worn before. Simple, but it hugged you in all the right places. You did your makeup with more care than usual, spritzed perfume on your neck, your wrists, let your hair fall soft and full around your shoulders. You didn’t tell anyone why you looked a little extra tonight. But you kind of hoped he’d be there. And you really hoped he’d notice.
The house was already packed by the time you got there—music thumping through the walls, bodies crammed together in every corner, red cups in almost every hand. Lights low, flashing sometimes, music echoing through a speaker in the living room. It smelled like sweat, beer, weed, and cheap cologne. Typical. Your friends disappeared as soon as you walked in, squealing at someone they recognized near the kitchen. You stayed back for a second, just long enough to scan the crowd. Not because you were looking for anyone. Not on purpose, anyway. And then you saw Weno. Leaning against the far wall near the stairs, hoodie half-zipped over a white tank, cargo pants hanging low on his hips, the hem of his boxers peeking a little. He wasn’t dancing. Wasn’t talking loud or laughing or drinking like the rest of them. Just standing there, calm and unreadable, eyes lazily moving through the room like he’d been here a hundred times before. He was talking to someone, dapping them up quick, pulling something from his pocket and handing it off like it was nothing. No one looked twice. Just a quiet exchange, over in seconds. He didn’t try to be subtle, he didn’t have to. People came to him. You stayed near the edge of the crowd, drink in hand, pretending to be more focused on your friends than you were. But your eyes kept drifting back. He looked good. Effortlessly good. And he hadn’t seen you yet. You tried not to look over too often. Tried to focus on your friends and their chaotic conversations, the loud music, the colorful lights. You laughed at jokes that didn’t really register. Nodded along. Sipped water from your cup and told yourself it wasn’t that serious. He wasn’t even talking to you. He was doing his own thing. Still, your gaze kept drifting. Just to see if he was still there. Still. Every time you checked, he was. Some minutes passed like that—just you pretending to be more chill than you felt while your friends chattered and moved toward the crowd. You stayed behind, needing a second to breathe. You slipped into the kitchen, mostly empty now, except for the quiet hum of the fridge and the faint bass vibrating through the floor. You reached for the fridge handle, intent on just grabbing some cold water and hiding out for a bit, but when you turned, he was already there. Standing just inside the doorway. Watching. Your breath caught.
He didn’t say anything at first. His eyes scanned you slowly—top to bottom, unhurried. You felt it like a heatwave, settling low in your stomach. His gaze was darker than usual. Focused, sharp. You dropped your eyes immediately, trying not to fidget. Tugged lightly on the hem of your dress like it might help somehow, like maybe it covered more than it did. You felt your cheeks flush without him even having to speak. You weren’t even sure why you were so nervous. You’d seen him like this before, but something about tonight made it worse. Made you bite your lip without thinking. Made your cheeks burn just from the way he looked at you. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, voice calm and even. A little rough from the smoke, but still warm. You glanced up, heart racing. “Yeah,” you said, “Wasn’t really planning to, but… my friends dragged me.” He smiled a little. “I’m glad you came.” Your breath hitched. You weren’t expecting that. “You look good tonight.” It landed heavy in your chest. No teasing. No smirk. Just him saying it like it was a fact. Your whole body flushed. “Oh,” you said, voice small. “Um. Thanks.” He nodded once, eyes still on you, and then glanced back toward the hallway. “I’m heading up to the balcony for a bit. If you wanna get some air.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Just gave you one last look—soft, lingering—and pushed off the doorframe to leave. “Come find me,” he said, and then he was gone. Leaving you standing in the kitchen, heart racing, lip caught between your teeth, wondering how the hell he always made you feel like this without even trying.
You lingered in the kitchen for a while after he left, pretending to scroll through your phone, half-listening to the party still pulsing through the walls. Your friends had fully disappeared into the crowd by now, probably dancing or taking shots or screaming over music. You told yourself you were just cooling off. Just getting a break from the noise. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at you. The way he said it—You look good tonight. Like it wasn’t up for debate. Like he meant it, and he knew you’d heard him loud and clear. Eventually, you texted some excuse about needing air, said you’d be right back if anyone even cared that you left. You slipped out of the kitchen and made your way upstairs, heartbeat loud in your ears, feeling a little ridiculous and a lot nervous. The hallway was quiet, just some closed doors and the muffled hum of bass below. You found the door to the balcony slightly cracked open, soft breeze pushing in from the night. You pushed it open gently. There he was. He sat on a low, beat-up couch tucked against the wall. One leg stretched out, the other bent, arm thrown over the backrest like he owned the space. Head tilted back just slightly, hoodie slipping off his shoulder, lips parted around the blunt as he took a slow drag. The ember glowed red in the dark, lighting up the sharp cut of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. He looked unfairly good. Like the air belonged to him. Like nothing touched him. He turned his head lazily when he heard the door, eyes finding yours through the smoke. Didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything for a second. Just looked at you, then took another slow hit, exhaling with a quiet sigh before speaking.
“Knew you’d come.” You swallowed hard, heart kicking up again like you hadn’t already spent the last fifteen minutes trying to calm it down. His voice was low, almost lazy, but there was something behind it—something that made your chest tighten a little. You stepped out and quietly shut the door behind you. You sat down beside him, slow and careful, the cushion dipping under your weight. His knee brushed yours just slightly, warm through the fabric. You glanced over, then down again, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I just—I’d rather be up here with you than down there in all that chaos.” That got him to finally look at you. Head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed just a little like he was trying to read deeper than what you were saying out loud. He didn’t answer right away. Just flicked the ash from the blunt, leaned back again, eyes still on you. You breathed in through your nose, steadying yourself. Then softer, barely louder than the wind, you added, “I missed you.” He turned his head fully now, letting the blunt rest between his fingers. The pause that followed wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Warm. His eyes softened just a bit. “Yeah?” he said, voice a little quieter than before. “I missed you too.” It landed in your chest like a weight—like the kind of thing you weren’t sure you were allowed to want, but did anyway. He leaned in a little, not close enough to crowd you, but just enough for his knee to press softly into yours. His eyes didn’t leave your face.
“You been thinking about me?” he asked, voice still calm, but something about it made your stomach twist. You blinked. Heat rushed to your cheeks again, and you had to look away. “…Maybe.” He smiled at that, small and crooked and unfairly attractive. “Same.” And then he took another hit like he hadn’t just wrecked you with a single word. He let the silence hang for a few seconds after that, the blunt burning slow between his fingers, and then he said it quietly, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Come closer.” Your eyes flicked to his, heart stuttering a little. He didn’t look away, didn’t shift or make room, just waited. You hesitated for a second and then moved, scooting over until your leg was pressed fully against his. He reached out casually, like it was second nature, and slid his arm around your shoulders. A soft tug, and suddenly you were leaning into him, your head falling against his chest like it belonged there. You could feel everything. His warmth, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the steady thump of his heart under your cheek. His hoodie smelled like smoke and laundry and him. He brought the blunt to his lips again, took a hit, then lowered it and turned his head slightly toward you.“Want some?” he murmured. You shook your head, just once. “Not right now.” He hummed, didn’t push. Just let his hand stay where it was on your shoulder, thumb brushing idly against your arm. You didn’t say anything after that. Neither did he. You both just sat there, pressed together on the old balcony couch, the party a muffled storm below you, the stars wide and scattered above. You listened to the wind. The soft scratch of fabric when he shifted. The occasional drag and exhale as he smoked. You closed your eyes for a second and just let yourself feel all of it.
He shifted a little, moving his hand lower on your arm, caressing the skin, his breath warm against your hair. You felt his heartbeat quicken just a bit beneath your cheek. The silence between you was thick. to be noticed. You glanced up at him, your eyes catching his in the dim light. There was something softer there now. Something unspoken, but heavy. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moved to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, fingers lingering near your temple. Your breath hitched. He leaned down just a little, voice low and casual, “You’re beautiful.” You swallowed, barely able to meet his gaze as your face flushed again. Then, just like that, he closed the tiny gap between you. His lips found yours slow and gentle, before deepening the kiss, like he’d been wanting to do this all night. You melted into him, your hand slowly reaching up to rest on his chest as the world around you faded. It’s not gentle anymore, it’s urgent, needy. His hand tightens in your hair, pulling you closer as his tongue slides against yours, deep and demanding. You whimper softly, the sound lost in the press of his mouth, your body melting into his. He pulls back just enough to whisper in your ear, voice husky, “Wanna get out of here? I’ve got my car nearby.” Your heart pounds so hard you’re sure he can hear it. You just nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, breath catching again as he wraps his arm tighter around you.
He doesn’t rush you, just laces his fingers through yours, warm and firm, and gives your hand a gentle tug. You follow without thinking, legs shaky as you leave the balcony behind and slip back into the quiet hallway. The party feels distant now, like the world narrowed down to just him, the weight of his hand in yours, the aftertaste of his kiss still lingering on your lips. The walk to his car is quiet, but not awkward. When he unlocks the door and slides into the driver’s seat, you hesitate for half a second before slipping in beside him. The doors shut with a soft thud, sealing you both inside the low, warm hum of the vehicle. He leans back, legs stretched out, calm like always, but there’s a heat behind his eyes when he looks at you. A spark still flickering from earlier. “I’m gonna roll real quick,” he murmurs, pulling out his tray and grinder from the center console like it’s second nature. You nod, watching him work—his fingers nimble, methodical, the lighter’s flame briefly illuminating his face when he brings the blunt to his lips. The car fills with the earthy scent of smoke, and his head tilts back slightly as he exhales, half-lidded. He looks so fucking fine like this, bathed in shadows and smoke, hoodie loose around his collarbones, the faint red glow of the blunt lighting up his lips. Then he turns his head toward you again and you don’t even get the chance to fully catch your breath before he leans in again, free hand finding your cheek as he kisses you.
The smoke still lingers on his breath, and you melt into it, moaning softly into his mouth as his tongue slides against yours. His fingers are on your thigh, squeezing gently as he pulls you closer. The kiss turns messier, full of need, soft gasps and low groans echoing through the car. Your hand grips his hoodie low, holding on like you might fall apart if you let go. He pulls back only enough to whisper, breath ghosting over your lips, “Could do this all night.” Then his mouth is on yours again. More heat, more tongue, more breathless little noises spilling from your lips as your body starts to tremble in his hands. Without breaking the kiss, his hands move, one sliding up your thigh, the other settling on your waist. “C’mere,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice low but soft. You barely register what he means until his hands are guiding you, pulling you gently, firmly, right onto his lap. One leg at a time, knees sinking into the seat on either side of him, hands braced on his shoulders, your dress hiking up as you settle onto him, straddling him, face to face. He leans back just enough to look at you, eyes hooded, red from the weed, blunt still between his fingers. One of his hands slides up your side, fingers grazing your waist and ribs over the thin fabric of your dress. He takes his time with it, like he’s learning your shape. Your breath stutters as his hand travels higher, stopping just under your arm. He brings the blunt to his lips again, takes a long, slow hit, his chest rising beneath you, and then leans in close. His free hand curves around the back of your neck, guiding your face closer to his. You part your lips on instinct, and he exhales the smoke right into your mouth, warm and slow, curling over your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe it in, heart thudding, and then he kisses you. Kisses you like he’s taking the air right back from your lungs.
Your breath catches when you feel his hands slide down, beneath the hem of your dress. He pushes it up slowly, bunching the fabric around your waist until the cool air hits your thighs. You shift slightly, nervous, thighs tightening around his hips as he exposes more of you. He doesn’t say anything, just stares for a second, eyes flicking down to where your panties are now visible, his palms firm on the back of your thighs. “Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. Then he leans forward, mouth finding your neck, and everything gets messier after that. He kisses down the side of your throat, open, warm, wet, his lips dragging along the skin, tongue flicking against your pulse point, teeth grazing just enough to make your hips twitch against him. You whimper quietly, trying to stay still, but he’s already pulling you closer with both hands, guiding your body into his like he knows exactly what you need. You tilt your head for him without thinking, shy sounds escaping your mouth as he works his way up to your jaw, then down again, kissing a little rougher now. “Weno…” you whisper, voice breaking around his name. “Shh,” he murmurs, his voice low against your skin. “You’re okay.” Your arms wrap around his shoulders instinctively, face burning as you shift in his lap, unintentionally grinding down just slightly. His reaction is immediate, a quiet groan right into your neck, his hands tightening on your hips. “Just like that,” he breathes.
Your hips grind down harder without thinking, breath coming out in shaky gasps as the friction starts to feel almost too good. His hands slip under the back of your dress, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass, guiding your movement like he needs it just as bad. You’re whimpering into the heated space between you, clinging to his hoodie, your body trembling slightly with every slow drag of your hips over his. Your panties are soaked. His pants are straining. The windows are fogging up, and the whole car smells like weed, sweat, and heat. He tilts his head, catching your mouth again in another deep, tongue-heavy kiss, like he can’t stop tasting you. His hand slides up your waist, grazing under the curve of your chest over the thin fabric of your dress, and you shudder, moaning softly into his mouth. Then he pulls back, just a little, resting his forehead against yours as both of you try to breathe. “Fuck,” he whispers, chest rising and falling beneath you. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” You blink at him, dazed, lips swollen and barely parted, still trying to catch your breath. He looks at you for a long second, hands still on your waist, grounding you. “I don’t wanna do this in the car,” he says, voice rough. “You deserve better than that.” Your breath hitches, heat flaring even higher at how serious he sounds. “Wanna go to my place?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your side. You nod slowly, shy but needy, your fingers curling in the collar of his shirt, a little scared to let go. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Okay.” He kisses you once more, soft and sweet, before pulling back just enough to reach for the keys.
The door shut with a quiet click, sealing you into the warmth of his place. It was dark, mostly, just the glow of a streetlamp slipping through the blinds, casting faint lines across the floor. Neither of you spoke. You turned slightly, lips parting like you might say something, but he was already reaching for you. His hands found your waist in the dark, pulling you in with no hesitation, and his mouth was on yours before you could even breathe. Kissing you hungrily, deep and needy. Everything he hadn’t said tonight was pouring out of him all at once, into the way he held you, the way his lips moved over yours. His grip was firm, hands splayed over your hips, your back arching into him as you kissed him back just as desperately. He walked you backwards without breaking the kiss, slow, steady steps through the short hallway, lips never leaving yours. You barely registered the corners of the space or how you ended up where you did until the back of your knees hit something soft. And then he was lowering you onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath you, and your breath caught as he hovered above you, eyes dark and steady on yours. Then, without a word, he zipped down his hoodie and took it off. Now just in a white tank, it clung to his frame in all the right places, the cut of his collarbone visible, shoulders broad and sharp under the light. He looked down at you for a second longer, breathing hard, gaze lingering on your face like he couldn’t believe you were really there. Then he leaned down, kissing you again, less rushed, but just as intense. His hands slid up your sides, fingertips ghosting over the fabric of your dress, moving deliberately, memorizing the shape of you. You whimpered softly into his mouth, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt. He pulled back for a second, eyes flicking between yours, voice low and wrecked. “You good?” he asked, forehead brushing yours. You nodded, cheeks burning, lips swollen already. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”
He didn’t wait long after your answer. His mouth moved to your neck, warm and open, lips brushing your skin before he started kissing, slow, deliberate, dragging his tongue gently along the curve of your throat. You gasped, breath hitching as he sucked softly at a spot just below your jaw. Then again, a little lower. Your hips twitched beneath him when you felt his teeth graze you. “Weno—” you whispered, but it came out as more of a breath than a word. “You’re so pretty” he murmured, voice barely there, like he was talking to himself. “Always are.” His hand moved down slowly, slipping over your waist and along the outside of your thigh before sliding back up under the hem of your dress. His touch was patient, teasing, he didn’t rush. Just let his fingertips brush along the top of your thigh, higher and higher until they were tracing the edge of your panties. He pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side, slowly, and let his fingers slide between your folds, touching your bare heat. You gasped, head tilting back into the pillow, lips parting in a silent moan. “Shit,” he whispered, breath warm against your collarbone. “So soaked f’me, baby.” Your cheeks burned, thighs tensing slightly around his hand. He kissed the hollow of your throat, then lower, just above your chest, tongue wet and warm as his fingers began to move—slow circles at first, barely-there pressure that made you squirm beneath him. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady like he could feel how close you already were, how much you wanted him. “You’re so sensitive,” he muttered, voice deep and low, teeth grazing your skin as he kissed up to your ear.
You whimpered his name, hips grinding into his hand without meaning to. His fingers never stopped moving, dragging slick circles against your clit as he kept his mouth on your neck. Every kiss felt more urgent, but not rushed. It wasn’t just lust. It was something else. Something heavier. And then he leaned up, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think about you all the time,” he murmured, breath warm, fingers still teasing between your thighs. “Even when I’m not supposed to. Even when I try not to.” Your heart flipped, aching at how raw it sounded coming from him. “I don’t even think you know what you do to me,” he continued, a soft kiss behind your ear. “How long I’ve wanted you like this. Letting me touch you.” The words hit harder than anything else had—deeper than the kisses, deeper than his touch. Your chest tightened, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers slid into his hair, pulling him down until your lips met again. Your moans melted into his mouth, the rhythm of his fingers picking up as your hips rolled up into his hand. His other hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider for him.
And then, without warning, he shifted his hand lower, deeper. Your lips parted in a quiet gasp as he slid one finger inside you, slow and careful. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, already aching from how worked up you were, how long he’d been teasing. He didn’t wait long before easing in a second finger, stretching you just a little more. His movements were smooth, curling them up inside you just right, drawing out whiny, breathless little sounds from your throat you couldn’t hold back. You buried your face in his shoulder, hands gripping his bicep, your hips rocking involuntarily into every slow thrust of his fingers. He moved deep and steady, his palm pressing into you, thumb dragging lazy circles over your clit in rhythm. He kept moving inside you, slow and deep, curling just right. You were so close, the tension winding tighter and tighter in your stomach, breath catching with every stroke. But just as your legs began to shake, just as your hips bucked up into his hand with a quiet, desperate moan—he pulled out. You whined at the loss, hips stuttering forward instinctively, chasing the friction. “Weno…” “I know,” he murmured, breathless himself, voice thick with need. “I know, baby.” He leaned back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere to the side. The soft light coming through the cracked door hit his chest just right—shoulders broad, abs toned, skin flushed and warm. His chain shifted against his skin when he moved.
Then he was reaching for you again, hands gentle. “Can I?” he asked, fingers brushing the hem of your dress. You nodded, cheeks hot, eyes wide and dazed. “Y-Yeah” He pulled it up slowly, lifting it over your head. His eyes dropped to your body as it was revealed to him—bare chest, soft skin, rising and falling with every shaky breath. He leaned his mouth to your nipple, giving it a soft suck while sliding your panties down your legs, dragging his hands along your thighs as he did. Then he moved lower. He settled between your legs like he belonged there, hands spreading your thighs gently, thumbs brushing along the inside. You whimpered, body already arching at the sight of him down there, the feel of his breath ghosting over your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than anything, eyes locked on your soaked center. And then he leaned in. His tongue was warm, slow, one long, deliberate lick up your folds that made your back arch off the bed. Then again, this time with more pressure, more intent. His mouth locked over your clit, sucking softly before he flattened his tongue and circled it. You gasped, hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling as your thighs tried to close around his head. He just groaned into you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer, keeping you wide open for him. The sounds—wet, messy, sinful—filled the room along with your breathy moans, soft whimpers, the quiet creak of the mattress beneath you.
He didn’t stop. His tongue moved with purpose, lapping, circling, flicking. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but moan, soft and desperate, your hips twitching with every stroke of his tongue. And then you felt his hand again. Sliding up the inside of your thigh, fingers trailing through your slick folds before one dipped inside you, curling instantly. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry. He added a second immediately, stretching you and pumping into you while his mouth never left your clit. “Weno—fuck,” you whimpered, body jolting as he curled his fingers just right. Your walls clenched around him, needy and tight. His groan vibrated through you when he felt it. His tongue pressed harder, fingers pumping deep and slow—each drag of his knuckles making your toes curl. Your moans got higher, breathier, as your body trembled under his touch. “You close, baby?” he muttered against your clit, fingers never slowing. “Wanna feel you cum on my fuckin’ fingers.” You nodded, frantic, too far gone to speak. Your back arched, thighs shaking as he held you open, ruined you with his mouth, pushed his fingers deep inside you until the heat building in your stomach finally snapped. You came hard, legs trembling, hips stuttering, a loud moan spilling from your lips as everything clenched and pulsed around him. Fingers still working you gently through it while his tongue slowed, easing the intensity but never leaving you empty. Weno pressed one last kiss to your thigh, lips lingering as he pulled his fingers from you slowly, savoring the way your body jolted at the loss. He sat back on his heels, chest rising and falling a little faster now, eyes heavy as they dragged up your body.
You watched, dazed, flushed, and breathless as he reached for the waistband of his cargos, unbuttoning and sliding them down. They hit the floor with a quiet thud, leaving him in just his boxers—black, stretched tight over the obvious bulge straining against the fabric. He palmed it slowly, eyes still fixed on you, thumb pressing down over the thick outline like it ached. You squirmed beneath him, breath catching again when he leaned forward, caging you in with his arms. He kissed you slow and deep, tongue sliding over yours, moaning into your mouth. Then he reached between you and pushed his boxers down just enough to free himself, hissing softly when his length sprang free and brushed against your thigh. “You still good?” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, his thumb caressing your cheek. You nodded, voice caught in your throat. “Yeah… I want you.” That was all he needed. He reached down, guiding himself to your entrance, dragging the tip through your slick folds, teasing you both with the heat of it. His hand found your waist again, grounding you as he pushed in slowly—inch by inch, thick and hot and stretching you just right. You gasped, nails digging into his biceps, body arching as he filled you completely.“Fuck,” he breathed out against your mouth, kissing you again as he bottomed out. “So tight. So good.” He didn’t move right away. Just stayed there, buried deep, letting you adjust while he pressed soft kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your lips. His hands smoothed over your sides, grounding you. And then he started to move.
He started slow and deep, rolling thrusts that dragged every inch of him along your walls. Your body clung to him, welcoming each stroke like it had been waiting, aching, for this exact moment. His hands moved down your sides, palms warm and firm, before sliding under your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist. The new angle made you gasp, your head falling back into the pillow as he sank even deeper. “That’s it,” he whispered, voice all breath and gravel, “So fucking perfect like this.” You whimpered, lips parting with every slow rock of his hips, every soft press of his chest to yours. One of his hands slipped under your back, pulling you closer, the other traveling to cup your breast, squeezing gently, thumb circling your nipple. “Love your body,” he murmured against your skin, lips brushing your collarbone. “Every inch. All mine now, yeah?” You could only nod, breath shaky, heart pounding. He moved again—long, deep thrusts that made your thighs tremble around him, that had you clinging tighter to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself in his touch. “So fuckin’ good,” he groaned, kissing your neck, “Fuck—look at how you take me.” He slid his hand down to your ass, gripping it tightly, pulling you up into each thrust, letting you feel just how hard he was holding back. You cried out softly, tears blurring your vision as the heat coiled tighter and tighter inside you. You felt stretched, full…loved. Every part of him was on you, in you, his lips, his hands, his voice. He slowed for just a second, chest heaving as he looked down at you.
His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your lip as he whispered, “No one’s ever made me feel like this.” You blinked, another tear slipping free. He caught it with a kiss. He pushed in deep again, groaning low as your body clenched around him. Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips parted in a sob, overwhelmed. The pleasure, the emotion—it was too much, and not enough. You gasped out his name, voice broken, tears spilling freely now. “You’re doin’ so good,” he breathed, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So good for me. You feel so fuckin’ good—can’t get enough of you, baby.” He cupped your breast again, his other hand squeezing your ass as he rocked deeper, firmer, filling you completely with every thrust. The mattress creaked beneath you, skin slapping, breathy moans and whimpers. He lift your legs higher, folding them up toward your chest as his hands slid beneath your knees, guiding you open. His body shifted with yours, hovering close, his chest pressing to yours as he settled into the new position. You were utterly vulnerable, and so full. “Fuck,” he breathed as he pushed back in—deeper, impossibly deep, the new angle hitting something inside you that made your mouth fall open in a silent gasp. Your thighs trembled against his sides, your arms wrapping tight around his shoulders as he rocked into you again, slow and hard. His face was right above yours, eyes dark, mouth parted, breath hot on your cheek. His forehead pressed to yours. You pulled him down, fingers tangling in his hair, and kissed him hard, messy, open-mouthed, desperate. You sobbed into the kiss, the pleasure blurring everything, making your whole body feel like it was about to break apart in the best way.
He moaned against your mouth, thrusts picking up just slightly, deeper and deeper, hips pressing you into the mattress. One of his hands cradled your cheek as the other gripped under your thigh, holding you open for him while his body kept driving into yours, filling you perfectly. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, kissing along your jaw between gasps. “So good for me, baby… fuck.” Your body clenched tight around him, your moans turning into cries as your nails dug into his back. “Weno— I’m close, I—please,” you gasped, barely able to form the words through the sobs that kept catching in your throat. “I got you,” he panted, hips grinding down, pace relentless now. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you.” It only took another stroke. One more hit just right, and you shattered. Your second orgasm came, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your back arched, tears slipping down your cheeks as you sobbed his name, legs shaking violently around him. You clung to him like he was the only thing tethering you to earth. “Shit—baby—fuck—” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut as your body pulsed around him. “So good. So fucking good.” He barely lasted another few thrusts before he was pulling out quickly, stroking himself through the last moments, his body jerking forward with a final moan as he spilled across your stomach, thick and warm. He collapsed onto his forearms above you, forehead to yours again, breath ragged, lips ghosting yours.
He was still above you, body trembling slightly as he caught his breath, his lips brushing yours in soft, lingering kisses that felt more like confessions than touches. You were trying to breathe too, heart racing, chest rising and falling as your mind spun. Every nerve in your body was still alive, aching with how full he made you feel—physically, emotionally, all of it. And yet, even in the quiet after, something heavy sat in your chest. You swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting at his sides, your eyes darting everywhere but his face. You could feel it pressing against your tongue—those words—so big and so terrifying, but so real. Too real to keep inside. “Weno…?” you whispered, voice barely audible. He blinked down at you, soft and hazy from the afterglow. “Yeah, baby?” Your lip trembled as you looked up at him, wide-eyed and afraid. “I… I think I’m in love with you.” The second the words left your mouth, your stomach dropped. You felt exposed, like you’d stripped yourself bare in a whole new way. Your eyes filled with panic—what if he didn’t feel the same? What if this ruined everything? “I—I’m sorry,” you added quickly, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to ruin it, I just—fuck, I don’t know, I just feel so much and I couldn’t keep it in and—” He cut you off with a kiss. Not a soft one, not a careful one, but deep, sure. His hand cupped your face as he leaned into you, kissing you like he needed to feel every word you’d just said on his tongue.
When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed beneath your eye, catching the little tear that had escaped down your cheek. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he whispered. “You could never ruin anything.” Your heart fluttered painfully. “I’ve been in love with you,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Since before I even knew what to call it. You don’t scare me, baby. You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense.” He kissed you again, tender. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you close until your body was pressed to his, skin to skin, and you could barely breathe from how tight he held you. You buried your face in his neck, arms tucked between your chests, your heart pounding against his. The silence that followed was heavy with warmth—safe, soft. Eventually, he shifted just enough to reach for the blunt on his nightstand, lighting it with a quiet flick of his lighter. The glow lit up his face in soft orange as he took a long drag, exhaling with a sigh, head tilted back slightly. You curled into him, cheek pressed to his chest, ear catching the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His arm came around you instinctively, holding you tighter, and his hand drifted lazily into your hair, fingers combing through the strands. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. He held you like he was never letting go.
hiiii can i request the teamies finding out you like their hands around your throat cause you were to afraid to ask for it? thank u smmm
⠀⠀GREEDY ✶ THEM FINDING OUT YOU LIKE BEING CHOKED
⠀• masterlist 𓋰 &team ot8 x f!rea⠀ ✶⠀sub!reader, choking, breath play, begging, degradation, overstimulation, worship, praise kink, d/s dynamics,, crying/tears during sex, squirting (vague mention), use of degrading terms, mock sympathy, soft dom, possessive behavior, multiple orgasms, power imbalance, petnames, creampie, use of ‘whore’ and ‘slut’.
wc: 1926
authors note: maki not included, sorry! anyway i hope this is good~~
don't copy/translate my work. i only write on tumblr.
KEI
k is the most observant, when notices how you moan, eyes fluttering shut harder whenever his hand rests near your neck during makeouts sessions. one night he tests it by lightly pressing his long fingers against your throat—and your broken, needy moan instantly gives you away.
k has you folded—lips still brushing yours when his hand slides up and presses lightly against your throat. the broken moan that escapes you makes his usually soft eyes darken.
“oh… so that’s what you’ve been hiding,” he murmurs, voice low and intense. he presses firmer, watching your lashes flutter and tears gather instantly. “you like my hand here? choking you like a desperate little slut?”
you whimper, hips bucking up. “k… please—”
he squeezes your throat between his fingers just right, cutting your air as he thrusts deep and slow. “pretty girl,” he leans down, breath against your mouth, “gonna cum because i’ve got my hand around your throat? come on. give it to me.”
you do. hard. shaking. squirting around him messily while he keeps the pressure on your throat steady, eyes locked on your face like he’s memorizing every tear, every gasp. he doesn’t stop. over and over he drags you through orgasms after orgasm.
only then does he let himself go, burying deep with a low groan, hand staying possessively around your throat as he spills inside you, pulsing, messy.
FUMA
fuma’s not softer, exactly. just… quieter in his control. he doesn’t react with surprise or teasing. instead, his dark eyes soften with understanding as he studies your face carefully, like he’s confirming something he’s quietly suspected for a while.
your entire body jolts. a sharp, needy sound cracks out of you before you can swallow it down.
he stills instantly, eyes searching your face. then he just grins, bunny teeth poking out, but this time it holds something other than softness. a broken moan escapes you. your eyes flutter open, face twisting up in pleasure. thighs trembling as you clench tightly around his thick cock.
fuma slows his thrusts for a moment, gaze locked on your face with that calm, focused attention he’s known for. he reads every detail—the way your lips part, the fresh tears slipping down your cheeks, the desperate flutter of your walls.
“hey… easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and velvet-rough, the kind that sinks straight into your bones and makes everything quiet. his fingers spread, curling around your throat with practiced ease, but there’s no rush—only warmth. “this what you’ve been hiding from me?”
you can’t answer, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his fat cock dragging through your walls and how the feeling of his big hand wrapped around your throat.
you only whimper, lashes wet, and he squeezes gently, firm and sure, testing the pressure like he’s learning a new way to hold you. your cunt clamps down around him, and he groans softly, hips rolling forward once, deep and deliberate.
“fuck… feel that?” his voice is almost reverent now, thumb stroking slow along the side of your neck. “so responsive for me… my sweet girl, dripping just from my hand here.” he leans closer, breath warm against your ear, lips brushing the shell. “been scared to ask, hm? thought i’d judge you?”
another careful squeeze—enough to blur the edges of the room, enough to make tears slip free. you nod frantically, hips twitching uselessly beneath him.
fuma’s laugh is soft, almost fond, laced with quiet wonder. “silly girl… this throat belongs to me anyway. just let go, i’ve got you. always.”
EJ
ej is caring in bed. he’ll do whatever you ask, even if it means cutting off your oxygen supply whilst mid-sex. he discovers it when you unconsciously grab his wrist and press his hand to your neck mid-sex.
ej is thrusting steadily when in your cock-drunk daze, you grab at his hand that rests against your cheek and guide it to your throat, pressing it there with desperate need. his eyes go wide for half a second—then melt into something soft.
“oh? is this what you want, baby?” he asks gently, even as he starts squeezing. your immediate whimper and fluttering walls make him smile softly.
he squeezes experimentally, just enough to make your lips part on a silent gasp. your cunt flutters wildly around him and he smiles, sweet and dark all at once.
“you could’ve told me. i’d give my pretty girl anything she needs.”
you whimper, tears already slipping down your cheeks as he tightens a little more, steady and sure. his hips never stop their deep, rolling rhythm, cock kissing that spot that makes you see stars behind your eyelids.
“shh, i’ve got you,” he coos, leaning down to kiss your wet cheeks while the headboard knocks softly against the wall. “let go. let me take care of everything… even the air you breathe.”
NICHOLAS
nicholas is teasing and cocky, he catches it the first time his fingers brush your throat while you're grinding down on his lap.
you jolt—hips shivering as you grind harder, a broken moan tearing out of you like you’ve been shocked. he freezes. then grins, slow and wicked.
“nooo fucking way,” he laughs under his breath, cocky as ever. “you like this? my hand around your pretty neck?”
you try to hide your face in his shoulder but he won’t let you, fingers already pulling you back and curling around your throat with teasing pressure. he rocks up into you lazily, watching every twitch, every tear.
“beg for it then, slut. tell me how bad you want me to choke you while i fuck this greedy little hole.”
JO
jo is always so hesitant with anything that could hurt you. but when his hand accidentally rests too high during a particularly deep thrust and you clench around him like you’re dying for it—he feels it. the way your pussy gushes, the way your whole body seizes and you sob his name like prayer.
his eyes widen, breath catching.
“jo… please—” you whimper, too far gone to be embarrassed anymore.
he swallows hard, then lets his fingers settle properly. gentle at first—testing. but the second he feels you flutter and drip around his cock, something shifts. his grip firms, careful but relentless.
“you’re… really into this,” he murmurs, almost in awe, hips stuttering before he finds his rhythm again. body blushing with his face. “oh my g—you’re squeezing me.”
he chokes you just enough to make the world tilt. his free hand wipes your cheek with heartbreaking tenderness even as he fucks you through another shaking orgasm.
“it’s okay… i’ve got you. just let it feel good, yeah?”
YUMA
yuma loves to tease. the moment his palm grazes your throat and your moan spikes, loud and needy, he realizes he’s found another thing to use against you.
he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“ehh? my baby likes being choked?” he teases, voice syrupy sweet. “how cute. say ‘please’ like a good little pet and maybe i’ll play with you.”
he laughs softly, delighted, and wraps his hand around your neck like it belongs there. the squeeze is perfect—mean and loving at once. he fucks you with short, sharp thrusts that make your vision spark white.
“look at you, dripping everywhere just from my hand. such a pathetic little thing for me… i think this is my new favorite way to ruin you.”
HARUA
harua may be cute and soft-spoken but he is surprisingly intense in bed. he has no problem giving you what you want, as long as he can tease you a bit for it.
he’s buried deep inside you, hips rolling in that slow, deliberate rhythm that always makes your head spin, when his fingers accidentally brush higher than usual. your moan spikes—louder, needier, impossible to hide.
he pauses, pretty eyes widening for half a second before they curve into something sharper, darker. a small, knowing smile tugs at his lips.
“yea?” he murmurs, voice is still soft, but the edge is there now. “you want my hand around your throat?”, his hips snap against you, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room.
“that’s what’s got you clenching like a desperate whore?”
you nod, shy and shaking, heat flooding your face but he doesn’t give you time to hide. his fingers slide up, delicate at first, then not so delicate as he wraps them tight around your throat with surprising strength behind the pretty hand. he squeezes without warning, cutting your air just enough to make stars burst behind your eyes.
“look at you,” he whispers, almost sweetly, but the words cut. “crying already? pathetic. you’ve been hiding this from me? too embarrassed to beg for my hand choking you while i fuck this sloppy little cunt? never hide stuff from me, i dont like it.”
TAKI
taki gets so into it when you guys are fucking. he gets so lost in the feeling of your cunt clenching. his hands grip at everything—hips, waist, thighs—moving on instinct, greedy and restless. his fingers absentmindedly find your throat mid-thrust.
you cum almost instantly. hard. a silent scream tearing through your body as your walls spasm violently around him, squirting in messy pulses that soak his skin.
his hips stutter hard, slamming into you once more before he freezes, buried to the hilt.
his eyes go wide, mouth parted in shock as he feels every single spasm milking him and the sudden wet heat gushing around his length.
“did you just—?” his voice cracks, breathless and stunned. he looks down between your bodies, seeing the mess you made, feeling how your pussy is still twitching and fluttering around him like it doesn’t want to let go. “fuck… you just squirted all over me.”
his hand is still loosely wrapped around your throat—not squeezing harder, just resting there, feeling the way you’re gasping and whimpering under his palm. the shock on his face slowly melts into something darker, hungrier. a slow, cocky little grin starts pulling at his lips even as his voice stays a little shaky.
“holy shit… you like my hand here?” he gives the tiniest experimental flex of his fingers, pressing just a bit more against the sides of your throat. your cunt clenches again instantly and he groans low, hips rolling forward once on instinct. “you came so hard the second i touched your neck… babyyyy, why didn’t you tell me you’re into this?”
his hips are still pressed flush against you, cock buried deep and twitching inside your soaked, fluttering walls. your confession comes out in broken, embarrassed little mumbles between whimpers — “i was… embarrassed… didn’t know how to ask…”
“embarrassed?” he repeats the word like it’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard, leaning down closer so his face is right above yours. his fingers flex again, firmer this time, thumb stroking the edge of your jaw while he starts moving—slow, deep rolls that drag against every sensitive spot inside you.
“don’t be embarrassed, baby… fuck, i love it.” his voice drops lower, needy and rough around the edges.
that clip of jo saying "since she’s confident i’ll make her take back her words" mmmm mean dom jojo.
【 18+ 】 tw ──── mean dom!jo . . angry sex, hair pulling, manhandling, multiple positions, brat tamer dynamics, rough sex, size kink, unprotected p in v, creampie.
1164 wc | don't copy/translate my work. i only write on tumblr.
jo’s been quiet. quieter than usual. silent frustration bubbling within him all day. his usual soft smiles were gone, replaced by a sharp jawline clenched tight and eyes that burned with frustration he refused to voice. practice had been a disaster.
he’d missed counts, stumbled during the formation change, and k-hyung’s sharp scolding in front of the whole team had only made it worse. you knew how much that stung. jo hated letting the team down. hated being scolded. hated feeling small. he never snapped. never got angry. he’d never even really been rough in the bedroom.
and you… you couldn’t stop poking the bear. pushing his buttons. pouring water into a cup that was already full.
you “accidentally” bumped his shoulder when he reached for a glass. you kept asking him questions he clearly didn’t want to answer. you left your stuff scattered across the couch where he always sat. giving him attitude. small, irritating things. each one stacking on top of the frustration he refused to let out.
finally, he snapped.
you were reaching past him for something in the fridge when his hand shot out, slamming the door shut inches from your face. the sound cracked through the kitchen like a whip.
“enough.”
his voice was low. dangerous. not loud, but it made your stomach flip.
before you could even draw a breath, jo spun you around, pressing your back hard against the fridge. his mouth claimed yours in a bruising kiss—nothing like the sweet, shy kisses you were used to from him. this was teeth and tongue and raw frustration. his large hand gripped your jaw, holding you exactly where he wanted you while he devoured your mouth.
you gasped when he pulled back, lips already swollen. his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.
“jo—”
“bedroom. now. please.
the word “please” still hung in the air between you, rough and strained, like even now he couldn’t fully drop the politeness that lived in his bones.
you didn’t argue.
jo’s hand wrapped around your wrist, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough that there was no mistaking his intention. he pulled you out of the kitchen and down the short hallway toward his bedroom, steps long and urgent. the moment the door clicked shut behind you, he was on you again.
he backed you up until your thighs hit the edge of his bed, then pushed you down onto the mattress. you barely had time to bounce once before he was crawling over you, caging you in with his tall frame. his mouth crashed back into yours, deeper this time, hungrier. one large hand shoved your shirt up and over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him. your bra followed right after, unclasped with impatient fingers.
“off,” he muttered against your lips, already tugging your shorts and panties down your legs in one rough yank. he didn’t even wait for them to clear your ankles before he was stripping his own clothes, shirt ripped off, sweats and boxers shoved down just enough to free his aching cock.
he was painfully hard, flushed dark and leaking. you’d never seen him this worked up.
jo grabbed your thighs, spreading them wide as he settled between them. no slow teasing. no gentle kisses down your body like usual. he lined himself up and pushed inside you in one long, relentless thrust.
you cried out at the sudden stretch, back arching off the bed. he was so deep like this, long and hot, filling you completely.
then he started moving.
hard. fast. angry.
every snap of his hips drove him deeper, the sound of skin slapping skin loud in the quiet room. the bed creaked under you. his hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise while the other braced beside your head, muscles flexing with every thrust.
“you wanted this, right?” he panted, eyes dark as they locked onto yours. “pushing me. testing me. giving me attitude. you wanted me to snap.”
“yes—ahh—yes, jo—” you moaned, nails raking down his back, legs wrapping tighter around his waist.
he fucked you harder, hips slamming forward, grinding deep on every stroke like he was trying to punish you and claim you at the same time. sweat was already beading on his forehead, his usually soft hair sticking to his temples. the frustration from practice, the scolding, the way he’d felt small all day—it was all pouring out into every brutal thrust.
without warning he pulled out, flipped you onto your stomach, and yanked your hips up so you were on your knees. he shoved back in from behind, even deeper now, and you buried your face in the pillow to muffle your cry.
all you could do was whine and sob into the pillow. “ah! mmngh!! m’ so good…haaah!”
his hand fisted in your hair, pulling your head back as he leaned over you, chest pressed to your back.
“don’t hide,” he growled against your ear. i wanna hear you.”
one of his hands slid under you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, rough circles. the new angle had him hitting that perfect spot with every thrust, and your moans turned into broken sobs of pleasure.
“oh god, jo—i'm gonna...mmmngh-a-a-a!”
“cum,” he ordered, voice hoarse and desperate. “go on baby.”
you shattered hard, walls clenching around him as your orgasm ripped through you. your thighs shook, vision whiting out. jo groaned loudly, hips stuttering as he fucked you through it, chasing his own release.
a few more punishing thrusts and he buried himself deep, coming with a low, guttural moan. you felt every pulse as he spilled inside you, hot and thick, hips grinding like he wanted to push it even deeper.
for a long moment, the only sounds were your heavy breathing.
jo’s grip slowly loosened. he stayed buried deep inside you, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled your back flush to his chest. his face pressed into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. the anger was already bleeding out of him, leaving only heavy exhaustion and the soft jo you knew underneath.
“…m' sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse and small. he kissed the side of your neck gently, right over the spot he’d bitten earlier. “i didn’t mean to be that rough. i just… fuck, i’ve never—”
you reached back, threading your fingers through his damp hair. “hey. its okay, baby—i wanted it. i pushed you because i knew you needed to let it out.”
he let out a shaky breath and hugged you tighter, tucking you against his chest. his hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back.
“stay here tonight,” he murmured, already sounding sleepy. “don’t go anywhere. just… stay with me.”
you smiled, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “nowhere else i’d rather be.”
jo’s arms tightened around you, the quiet of the room now warm and safe instead of heavy. the storm had passed. your gentle boy was back—holding you like you were something precious.
hii i was wondering if you could write about nico x reader and reader has a praise kink and likes being choked and nico loves it
【 18+ 】 tw ──── soft dom!nico. . kissing, petnames, praise kink, choking, unprotected p in v, creampie. don't copy/translate my work. i only write on tumblr.
✉️: here u go nonie !! someone had also asked awhile ago for soft dom weno soooo i made him a soft dom here ~~ i've gotten so many nicho reqs :0000
the sheets were cool against your back, but nico’s body was warm, heavy, and completely in control as he settled between your thighs. he hadn’t rushed a single thing. every touch had been slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the way you melted under him.
he kissed you again—deep, unhurried, the kind of kiss that made your stomach flutter. his tongue brushed yours, gentle but insistent, while one of his hands cradled the side of your face.
“my good girl,” he murmured against your lips, voice low and velvet-soft. “you’re being so sweet for me tonight.”
you whimpered into the kiss and he smiled, the curve of it pressed to your mouth. his free hand trailed down your body, over your breast, your stomach, until it settled at the base of your throat. not squeezing. just resting there. the weight of it alone made your breath catch.
nico pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes warm but dark with want. “you want it, baby?” he asked quietly, thumb stroking the side of your neck. “want my hand right here while i fuck you?”
you nodded, already hazy. “please…”
“there’s my girl.” he kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips again—soft, praising little kisses—before he finally pushed inside you.
the stretch was slow, perfect. he didn’t thrust. he just sank in until he was buried deep, hips flush against yours, and let you feel every inch. his hand on your throat flexed once, testing, then applied that delicious, careful pressure that made your head go light and floaty.
“fuck, you feel so good,” he breathed, forehead resting against yours. “so warm and tight around me. such a perfect little thing.” he rolled his hips in a slow, deep grind that had you gasping. “breathe for me, baby. that’s it. good girl.”
he kept the pressure steady on your throat while he started to move—long, unhurried strokes that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you. every time he bottomed out he gave your neck the slightest squeeze, just enough to make your vision blur at the edges and your walls flutter around him.
“you like when i do this to you, don’t you?” he whispered, voice rough but still so gentle. “like being choked while i praise you. my sweet, filthy girl.” he kissed the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, never stopping the slow, deep rhythm of his hips. “you’re doing so well. taking me so deep. i’m so proud of you.”
your hands slid up his back, nails lightly scratching as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly. nico’s thumb brushed over your pulse point, feeling how fast it raced for him.
“look at you,” he cooed, eyes flicking between your face and where he disappeared inside you. “eyes all glassy, pretty mouth open… you’re close already, aren’t you? my good girl gets so needy when i choke her.”
he squeezed a little firmer, just enough to make your next moan come out broken and high. his pace stayed slow, almost teasing, but every roll of his hips hit that spot that made your thighs shake.
“come for me, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “come while i’ve got my hand on your throat. show me how good it feels. that’s it—there you go. such a good girl for me.”
the combination of his voice, the praise, the steady pressure around your neck, and the way he kept fucking you so deep and slow sent you over the edge hard. your whole body trembled as you came, walls pulsing around him, a broken whimper caught under his palm.
nico groaned low, hips stuttering as he worked you through it, still praising you the whole time. “that’s my girl… fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight. so perfect. so good for me.”
he didn’t let go of your throat until your orgasm started to ebb. only then did he ease the pressure, sliding his hand up to cup your cheek instead, thumb stroking your skin with so much tenderness it made your chest ache.
he kissed you again—slow, sweet, almost reverent—while he chased his own release with a few deeper, quicker thrusts. when he came, he buried his face in your neck, moaning your name like a prayer, hips pressed flush as he filled you.
for a long moment he stayed there, breathing you in, pressing soft kisses along your throat where his hand had been. then he carefully pulled out, gathered you against his chest, and tucked the blanket over both of you.
his fingers traced lazy circles on your back while his other hand gently massaged the sides of your neck.
“you did so well for me, baby,” he whispered, lips against your hair. “my perfect girl. i’ve got you. always.”
【 18+ 】 tw ──── mean dom!ej . . dubcon, bratty n kinda mean reader (dw jju fixes that real quick), unprotected p in v, making out, petnames, oral ( m. rec ), jju calls reader a bitch, finger fucking, light choking, hair pulling. don't copy/translate my work. i only write on tumblr.
ej had always been your safe place.
soft-spoken, gentle-eyed, the kind of best friend who showed up with your favorite snacks after a bad day and never once raised his voice. he let you rant, let you cry, let you be messy. he took it all with that warm little smile and a hand rubbing slow circles on your back.
you push the door shut a little harder than you mean to, the slam echoing in the quiet of his apartment. another day had chewed you up and spit you out—sharp words from strangers at work, the weight of everything the day had brought pressing on your ribs—the way ej had texted you complaining about his members—it all filled you up only to spill over the second you walked in.
you take it out on him. because he’s there. because he’s always there, soft-eyed euijoo with his gentle hands that wipes away your tears and that smile that makes the world feel a lot less cruel.
“you’re such a fucking pushover,” you snap, kicking off your shoes, voice brittle as glass. “always letting people walk all over you. maybe if you weren’t so nice all the time they would listen—”
he doesn’t answer right away. just watches you from the couch, elbows on his knees, that usual kindness flickering like a candle in the wind. but something shifts behind his eyes. darkens. you feel it in your stomach before he even moves.
then he stands.
slow. deliberate. the kind of slowness that coils tight in your chest.
“you done?” he asked, voice low, almost sweet. almost. gone was the soft ej. this one had dark eyes and a cruel tilt to his mouth.
“you’ve been so bitchy all week,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “taking your shit out on me like i’m your fucking punching bag. i let you, because i love you. but tonight?” his grip tightens, just a fraction.
"tonight i’m done letting you.”
you laugh, mean and sharp, because you’re frustrated and he’s safe enough that to take whatever you give. “what, you gonna do something about it? big soft jju finally growing a spine?”
he crosses the room in three strides. his hand finds your jaw, fingers pressing just enough to tilt your face up. no more gentle. his thumb drags across your lower lip, rough, and your breath catches like a hook in your throat.
your heart stutters. heat floods low in your belly, unwanted and undeniable. he’s always been the safe one. the one who holds you when you cry, who makes tea and strokes your hair. but this— this euijoo is not the one you used to pushed around—this one has teeth. teeth that aren't afraid to bite.
he walks you backward until your spine hits the wall, cool plaster against your heated skin. his mouth crashes into yours, not soft, not kind—hungry. claiming. tongue sliding in like he owns the space behind your teeth. you bite back on instinct and he growls, low in his chest. in response he shoves his thigh between your legs, pressing right against your core. knee pressing hard against your covered clit, until you gasp into his mouth.
you tried to glare, still riding the wave of your attitude. “get off me, ej—”
he laughed, short and mean. a noise you had never heard escape the sweet man. it made a shiver go down your spine.
“mm, wrong answer.”
in one rough motion he spun you around, chest pressed to the wall, yanking your wrists behind your back and pinning them with one large hand. his other hand shoved your skirt up over your hips and ripped your panties down your thighs.
“you’ve been a fucking brat all night,” he growled against your ear, teeth scraping your neck. “taking your shit out on me like i’m your punching bag. i let you get away with too much, huh?”
you whimpered when two thick fingers grazed your cunt before pushing inside you without any sort of warning, curling meanly against that spot that made your knees buckle.
“oh fuck off— shit, e-ej—” the words fracture halfway out, cracked open by the way his fingers curl cruelly inside you, dragging over that spot that makes your vision fuzzy.
“shut up.”
his voice is low, almost gentle, but it lands like a door slamming. he pumps faster, thicker, two fingers stretching you open while his thumb grinds mean circles against your swollen clit. relentless. wet sounds fill the space between you — filthy, slick, echoing the frantic beat of your heart against the wall.
“you don’t get to talk back anymore,” he growls against your ear, teeth scraping the sensitive skin just below it. “you’re gonna take what i give you until that attitude’s fucked out of you.”
sudden.
he pulls his fingers out.
the loss hits like cold air. you whine before you can stop yourself, hips chasing empty space. he laughs again—that short, mean sound that doesn’t belong to your soft jju—and spins you back around. your back hits the wall once more, breath punched out of you. his eyes are almost black now, pupils blown wide with something new. something hungry.
“on your knees.”
you hesitate half a second too long.
his hand fists in your hair, tugging just hard enough to sting. guiding. not asking. you sink down, carpet rough against your bare knees, and he frees himself with the other hand—thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip. the sight of it makes your mouth water even as your mind claws for the last scraps of your bratty armor.
“open.”
you do. slow. defiant even now. he doesn’t wait. slides deep in one smooth thrust, hitting the back of your throat and holding there while your eyes water.
“fuuck—good girl,” he groans, hips twitching. “look at you. so pretty when you’re quiet. choking on my cock instead of being a brat.”
he fucks your mouth in measured strokes at first, savoring the way your throat flutters around him, the way tears slip down your cheeks and ruin your mascara. every time you gag he pushes a little deeper, thumb brushing your cheek almost tenderly. the contrast wrecks you. soft touch. cruel rhythm. your safe place cracking open to show the teeth underneath.
when he finally pulls out you’re gasping, strings of spit connecting your swollen lips to his cock. he hauls you up like you weigh nothing, tosses you onto the couch on your stomach. your face presses into the cushions that still smell like him—like vanilla and the laundry detergent he always uses—and then he’s behind you again.
no more waiting.
he slams in with one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. the stretch burns so good your vision whites. legs twitching and shaking as broken moan rips from you, raw and needy. he doesn’t even give you time to adjust to his length. hips snapping forward, skin slapping skin, the couch creaking beneath you like it might give out.
“this what you wanted?” he growls, one hand fisting your hair again, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave fingerprints. “to push me until i stop being nice? until i fuck the bitch right out of you?”
each thrust punches the air from your lungs. long, dragging strokes that grind against that spot inside you until your thighs shake violently. you can’t think. can’t snap back. can only take it—take him—while the pressure builds and builds.
he leans down, chest to your back, teeth grazing your ear.
“say it,” he demands, voice dropping softer but no less mean. “say you’re sorry for treating me like your emotional trash can.”
you bite your lip until it draws the tiniest bit of blood. stubborn, yet trembling.
he slows. grinds deep. cruel little circles that make you sob.
“say it,” he repeats, lips brushing your temple like a lover, “or i pull out and leave you empty and aching for the rest of the night.”
the threat coils tight in your belly. tears spill hot down your face.
“nghh m' sorry—” your voice cracks, small and shattered. “jju—euijoo, i’m sorry, please—”
“thereee she is.”
he rewards you instantly. pace turning punishing again, hand slipping under you to rub tight, mean circles on your clit. the orgasm hits hard and violent, leaving you clenching around him so hard he curses low and filthy. he fucks you through it, drawing it out until you’re shaking and oversensitive—still whispering broken apologies into the cushions.
only then does he let himself go. burying deep with a groan that vibrates through your bones, filling you in hot pulses that mark you from the inside. claiming.
for a long moment the only sound is your ragged breathing and the distant hum of the fridge. then his arms wrap around you—gentle again. he pulls you against his chest as he collapses onto the couch. his fingers trace slow, soothing patterns over the bruises he left on your hips. lips pressing soft kisses to your damp temple.
“next time you want to be mouthy, let me know. i’ll just fuck it right out of you, hm?”
you curl into him, spent and aching and finally quiet. the storm inside your ribs has blown itself out. all that’s left is the steady beat of his heart under your cheek and the quiet knowledge that your sweet jju can be cruel when he needs to be.
“i’ve got you,” he whispers into your hair, voice back to that familiar warmth, cracked open just enough to let the love bleed through. “even when you bite. especially then.”
authors note: mean dom jju i love u so bad...i love writing him all mean..i knowwwww i just know he has a mean side..
nsfw taglist: @ikigaijo @blueuijoo @0wisewisdoom @d3adg1rlie @yudaism @sh1n3-4h4na @starlOstt @yeonyeonbun @vickiluvsjo @ampiesworld @rubyidk @maytaurus20 @whoisgwyn @simplyscrewed @meowieshibal @zzniya @1014b @deerhuntings @tokunodoll @crushonfuma @enha-crumbs @zucchini-thepowerfull
❤︎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀harua who looks relatively harmless craves to corrupt something innocent and you look like the perfect little victim for his sick desires.
•⠀ masterlist 𓋰 💬 10,426 wc ─── ᛫ perv!sex worker!harua . . innocent!f rea, dead dove do not eat, yandere!harua, slowburn, corruption, non con elements, dubcon, inexperienced!reader, manipulation, possessive!harua, club au, toxic relationship, explicit smut, power imbalance, fingering, oral sex ( m. & f. rec ) , unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, choking, rough sex, hair pulling, degradation, obsession, praise kink, dacryphilia. don't copy/translate my work. i only write on tumblr.
the bass thumps low and dirty through the club like a heartbeat you can feel between your legs. neon lights smear pink and violet across the haze of smoke and sweat, and you’re perched on a velvet stool at the bar, knees pressed tight together under the hem of your too-short skirt.
first time here. first time anywhere like this. your friends had brought you here with the intention of you getting laid, but around 5 minutes in they had disappeared under the guise of getting laid themselves.
your heart beating rabbit-fast, cheeks already burning because some guy in a suit just tried to buy you a drink and you mumbled “no thank you” like a scared little church girl.
that’s when harua sees you.
he’s leaning against the far wall, black silk shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the sharp cut of his collarbones, small silver chain glinting against his throat. his hair falls into his eyes—messy black with long pieces in the back, under it a pretty silver color that he keeps bleaching—and his mouth is curled in that lazy, knowing smirk he saves for new prey.
he’s been working this club for months now. high-end escort, sex worker, prostitute, pretty boy whore, whatever label pays the rent. he lets rich men and women fuck him for cash, lets them choke him, slap him, call him their dirty little toy. he’s good at it. he likes it, most nights.
but tonight his cock twitches the second his eyes land on you.
you’re so fucking innocent it hurts. wide eyes, soft mouth, the way you keep tugging at the hem of your skirt like you’re embarrassed it even exists. you look like you wandered in by accident, like you should be home in pastel pajamas reading something wholesome instead of sitting here in a den of pure sin.
harua’s always been a relatively submissive in his field of work. most people preferred to corruption a pretty boy—not be corrupted by one. the coils tight in his gut like a live wire. he wants to ruin you. slowly. sweetly. until that shy little blush turns into tears of pleasure and you’re begging him to ruin you for anybody else.
he pushes off the wall and stalks over, hips rolling with every step. when he slides onto the stool beside you, the scent of his cologne—something expensive and filthy—wraps around you like smoke.
“you look lost, bunny,” he murmurs, voice low and honeyed, the nagano dialect curling around his words. he leans in close enough that his breath brushes your ear. “first time? you’re shaking.”
you nod, too stunned to lie. up close he’s even prettier. you’d seen him briefly as you walked into the club—sharp yet soft eyes, plush lips, and a small face that makes him look almost delicate. but the way he’s looking at you isn’t delicate at all. it’s starving.
harua’s cock is already half-hard in his tight black pants just from the way you bite your lip.
“i’m harua,” he says, offering you a hand like a gentleman. his fingers are long, pretty, the kind of fingers that could ruin a girl. when you take it, he doesn’t shake—he strokes his thumb slow over your knuckles, once, twice, like he’s testing how soft you are. “and you… you’re too sweet to be here alone. someone could eat you up.”
he means it literally.
he’s already imagining it: those same fingers sliding under your skirt, finding you soaked and untouched, pushing inside while you whimper his name like a prayer. he wants to be the first one to make you come so hard you forget how to speak. wants to watch your innocent little face twist up when he feeds you his cock for the first time, inch by inch, until you’re choking on it and crying because it feels too good to be bad.
you tell him your name in a tiny voice and he stores it away like treasure. the rest of the night he stays close—buys you a drink that’s sweet and fruity so you don’t taste the alcohol, dances with you when the music slows. his hands stay respectful on your waist, but his mind is filthy.
he pictures bending you over the bar, flipping that little skirt up, and fucking you raw right there while the whole club watches him corrupt the pretty new girl. he pictures you on your knees in the bathroom, looking up at him with those big trusting eyes while he paints your tongue with cum and calls you his good little whore.
when closing time comes he walks you to the door like a gentleman, even though his dick is aching. he doesn’t ask for money. he doesn’t proposition you. not yet.
“see you soon, angel?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. his voice is soft, almost reverent. “i like sweet things. i like keeping them.”
you come back three nights later.
harua spots you the second you walk in. his current client—a rich older woman who likes to ride him while he calls her mistress—is grinding on his lap in the vip booth, but his eyes are on you. you’re wearing the same skirt. you’re looking for him. the realization makes his cock throb so hard he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stay focused.
later, when the woman is gone and his pockets are full of cash, he finds you again. same stool. same shy posture.
“you came back for me, bunny. good girl.”
he doesn’t touch you anywhere inappropriate. not yet. he just stays close, buys you another sweet drink, dances with you again. every slow song his hands drift a little lower on your waist, thumbs stroking the bare skin where your top rides up, but never crossing the line. when he walks you out at closing he presses the softest kiss to your temple and murmurs, “dream of me tonight. i’ll be dreaming of you.”
night after night you keep coming back.
night after night harua falls deeper.
he fucks clients with your face behind his eyelids. when some businessman is balls-deep in his throat, harua closes his eyes and pictures your innocent mouth instead. when a woman rides him in the vip room and calls him her dirty toy, he’s imagining how sweetly you’d cry if he called you his. every load he takes, every moan he fakes, he’s thinking about ruining you—teaching you, breaking you open, making you just as filthy as he is.
by the seventh night the tension is unbearable.
you’re back on your usual stool, cheeks already flushed the second you see him walking toward you. harua doesn’t even bother with a client tonight. he’s been hard since he clocked in, cock straining against his tight black pants because he knows you’re coming.
this time he doesn’t stay at the bar.
“come with me, bunny,” he says, voice low and velvet-rough. he takes your hand—still gentle, still the gentleman—but his grip is firmer now, possessive. he leads you through the pulsing crowd, past the vip booths, down a dimly lit hallway only staff and high-paying guests use. he unlocks a private room with a keycard, the kind the club rents out for “extra services.”
the door clicks shut behind you. the music is muffled. the lights are low, red and warm. there’s a plush couch, a mirrored wall, and nothing else.
harua turns to you, eyes dark, dark hair falling over his pretty cheeks. his usual lazy smirk is gone. this is pure hunger.
“fuck… look at you,” he breathes, voice low and rough with that soft nagano lilt. “you really followed me in here, bunny. so trusting. so fucking innocent it makes my cock hurt.”
he steps in close—so close you can smell the expensive cologne mixed with the faint salt of his skin. one hand lifts, slow and gentle like he’s afraid you’ll bolt, and cups your cheek. his thumb brushes your bottom lip, pressing just enough to part it.
“you know what i am, right?” he murmurs, eyes dropping to watch your mouth. “i get paid to let people use me. bend me over, choke me, fill me up until i can’t walk straight. but you…” his thumb slides into your mouth, just the tip, pressing down on your tongue.
“you make me want to be the one who uses. i’ve been jerking off every night thinking about ruining this pretty little mouth. about making you cry on my cock.”
then he leans in and kisses you—soft at first, almost reverent, like he’s savoring the way you taste like innocence and fruity drinks. but the second you make a tiny, helpless sound against his lips, the kiss turns hungry. his tongue pushes in, claiming, fucking your mouth slow and deep while his free hand slides down your waist, under the hem of that too-short skirt he’s been fantasizing about flipping up for days.
“harua… i—i’ve never…” your voice is tiny, cheeks burning as you try to pull away—words mumbled against his eager lips. “i—i don’t know what to do. i’ve never even kissed anyone like that before tonight.”
his smirk is soft, almost tender, but his eyes are starving. “that’s okay, angel. that’s perfect. i’m gonna teach you everything. starting right now.”
he guides your hand down until your palm presses over the hard line of his cock straining against his tight black pants. you gasp at how hot and thick he feels.
“feel that?” he whispers, voice husky. “that’s what you do to me. every night you came back here looking all sweet and shy, this is how hard i got just thinking about you.”
you bite your lip hard, cheeks burning hotter than the red lights overhead. your fingers tremble against the thick, pulsing line under his pants, and you can’t help the tiny, overwhelmed sound that slips out.
“it’s so hot…” you whisper, voice barely above a breath. “and… and big. i—i’ve never felt anything like this before. is it supposed to be this hard just from me?”
he lets out a low, wrecked chuckle, forehead still pressed to yours. “mhm. all for you. every single night you sat at that bar looking like a lost little angel, this is what you did to me. now be a good girl and squeeze it for me. just like that—fuck, yes.”
your small hand tightens shyly around him through the fabric and he groans, hips twitching forward into your palm.
“i don’t know what i’m doing,” you confess, eyes glassy and wide. “i’ve never touched anyone like this. what if i mess up? what if i’m not… good enough?”
his thumb strokes your bottom lip again, eyes soft but burning. “you could never mess up, angel. you’re perfect. and i’m gonna teach you exactly how to make me feel good. starting with that pretty mouth. on your knees for me, bunny. come on… that’s it. good girl.”
he guides you down gently until your knees sink into the soft carpet between his spread thighs. his fingers thread through your hair, careful but possessive, holding you right where he wants you while he unzips slowly. his cock springs free—thick, flushed, the tip already shiny with pre-cum—and your eyes go even wider.
“oh my god…” you breathe, voice shaky. “it’s… it’s even bigger up close. i don’t think it’s gonna fit. i’ve never… i’ve never done this. what if i choke? what if i can’t breathe?”
he cups your cheek, thumb brushing the nervous pout already clinging to your lips. “shh, shh, baby. i know it looks scary. but i’m right here. i’m gonna teach you slow, okay? just open those pretty lips for me. stick your tongue out a little… yeah, just like that. such a good listener.”
you obey, mouth parting shyly, tongue peeking out. he taps the heavy head of his cock against it once, twice, smearing the salty pre-cum across your tongue.
“taste it, bunny,” he murmurs, voice velvet-rough. “go on. lick the tip nice and slow. get it all wet for me.”
your tongue darts out, tentative and sweet, swirling around the leaking slit. the taste is salty, manly yet addicting. you pull back only for a second—savoring the taste before going back to leave another kitten lick on his flushed tip. a broken little whimper vibrates against him and harua’s head tips back with a groan.
“fuck—yes. just like that. you’re already so good. now wrap your lips around the head… suck a little. gentle at first, like you’re kissing it.”
you do exactly as he says, mouth closing around the swollen tip, sucking softly. your cheeks hollow and another tiny, unsure hum escapes you.
harua’s fingers tighten gently in your hair, a low, shaky groan slipping from his throat.
“fuck… just like that, bunny. perfect. you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” his voice is rougher now, the nagano dialect thickened with arousal. “suck a little harder, angel. use your tongue on the underside while you move your head… up and down, slow. yeah—gooood girl.”
you try to follow every instruction, sliding your lips further down his shaft. he’s so thick your jaw already aches, but the way he’s looking down at you—like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen—makes you want to keep going. you pull back with a wet pop, breathing fast, lips shiny.
“am i doing it right?” you whisper, voice trembling. “it’s big… my mouth felt so full. i—i can’t take much more. what if i gag? i don’t want to disappoint you…”
harua laughs softly, low and dark, the sound vibrating through his chest. without warning, he grips your hair a little tighter and shoves your mouth back down onto his cock, sliding past your lips in one smooth push until the head bumps the back of your throat.
“of course you’re gonna gag, bunny,” he purrs, voice dripping with lust. “i want you to. i want to feel that tight little throat squeezing me while you cry those pretty tears. now open wider… take me deeper this time.”
your eyes fly wide open as he forces more of his thick length into your mouth. a wet, choked sound escapes you “mmph—!”—and your hands fly up to clutch at his thighs, nails digging into the fabric of his pants.
tears instantly prick your eyes and spill over as he holds you there for a second, savoring the way your throat flutters and spasms around him. hot and fat drops coat your flushed cheeks, and the sight of them makes harua’s cock twitch hard against your tongue.
“fuuck, bunny… look at those pretty tears,” he groans, voice low and wrecked. “crying already and i’m barely halfway down your throat. you’re so perfect.”
he holds you there for another long second, savoring the wet flutter of your throat around his cockhead, before he finally eases back just enough for you to gasp in a desperate breath. strings of spit connect your swollen lips to his glistening length. you’re coughing, crying, eyes glassy and wide, but you quite don’t pull away.
harua’s thumb gently wipes the tears from your cheek only to smear them across your bottom lip like gloss.
“such a good little crybaby for me already,” he murmurs, almost tenderly. “i’ve been dreaming about breaking this innocent mouth for weeks now. every time i let some rich bastard use me, i closed my eyes and pictured your face instead. now you’re really here… on your knees like my own personal whore.”
he pushes back in, slower this time but deeper, fucking your mouth with shallow, deliberate thrusts while he watches every tear track down your flushed face.
“eyes on me, angel. let me see how pretty you look choking on cock for the first time.”
you obey, watery eyes locked on his as he uses your mouth. the praise and filth keep pouring out of him in that sweet, honeyed voice that doesn’t match the way he’s ruining you.
“that’s it… suck a little harder. use that tongue—yeah, fuck, just like that. you’re a natural. gonna be my perfect little cocksleeve, yeah?”
harua’s voice is ragged now, the soft nagano accent thicker with lust as he fucks your mouth in slow, deep strokes. he keeps one hand tangled in your hair, the other gently stroking your tear-streaked cheek like you’re something precious even while he ruins you.
every time you gag and cry harder, his cock twitches against your tongue. the wet, obscene sounds of your throat and the sight of your glassy, teary eyes make him lose control.
“shit— i’m close,” he pants, hips stuttering. “gonna cum in this virgin mouth. you’re gonna swallow every drop like a good girl, understand?”
you can only whimper around him, tears pouring down your face. a few more rough thrusts and harua buries himself deep, holding your head still as thick, hot ropes of cum spill across your tongue and down your throat. he moans low and broken, eyes half-lidded, watching you struggle to take it all.
when he finally pulls out, you’re coughing and gasping, lips swollen and shiny with spit and cum. a thin string still connects your bottom lip to his softening cock. harua stares down at you like he’s in love.
he drops to his knees in front of you, cupping your wet face with both hands and kissing you deep, tasting himself on your tongue without a care. when he pulls back, his thumb gently wipes the tears and cum from your chin.
“you were perfect,” he murmurs, voice soft again, almost reverent. “so fucking perfect. my sweet little pet.”
he helps you up on shaky legs, straightens your skirt, and even fixes your hair with careful fingers. then he pulls your phone out of your small purse without asking. his long fingers move quickly across the screen as he saves his number.
he types his contact name as harua ♡ and adds a little bunny emoji next to it. he sends himself a text from your phone so he has your number too, then hands it back.
“text me when you get home safe, bunny,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “and don’t even think about coming back here without telling me first. i like knowing where my sweet girl is.”
he walks you out of the private room and all the way to the club exit like a perfect gentleman, even though his eyes are still dark with obsession. one last kiss to your temple and he lets you go.
the first night harua pulled you into the private room, he was still somewhat gentle.
by the end of the next week, that mask had started to crack.
he texted you constantly. sweet messages at first—did you get home safe, bunny? i miss your pretty little face already—then darker ones when you took too long to reply. you’re ignoring me? after i made you cum so hard you cried? that’s not very nice, angel.
then sweet messages laced with poison: did you touch yourself thinking about my fingers inside you? be honest, bunny. good girls don’t lie. when you hesitate to reply, he sends another: if you ignore me i’ll worry. you don’t want me worrying, do you?
you always answer. you always apologize. you always come back.
night four he had you bent over the couch in the private room, skirt flipped up, panties ripped down your thighs while he fingered you from behind with three slick fingers. every time you tried to muffle your sobs into the cushion he’d yank your head back by your hair and force you to watch yourself in the mirror.
“look at that pretty face,” he whispered, accent thick and sweet like poison. “crying like a little slut just from my fingers. you know you’re not innocent anymore, right? good girls don’t come back to a place like this night after night. seems like you're all ruined, oh well."
you only shook your head, tears streaming ans he only smiled softly and curled his fingers harder.
by night six, he starts guilt-tripping you harder. when you tried to skip a night, he sent you photos—his pretty cock hard and leaking in his hand, captioned this is what you do to me and then you disappear? i thought you cared about me, angel.
you show up the next night shaking.
in the private room he’d gotten less patient—making you kneel and suck him every single time. no longer asking. he simply pushes you down, guiding his pretty pink cock past your lips, and fucking your throat with slow, deliberate strokes while he strokes your hair like you are precious. because to him, you may be his most prized possession.
“swallow it all this time,” he cooed when he was close, holding your head down until your throat spasmed and fresh tears poured down your cheeks. “if you really cared about me you’d take it better. other people pay me to let them use my throat. you get it for free and you still gag like a baby.”
when you choked and cried harder he came down your throat with a broken moan, then kissed your cum-stained lips right after and told you how perfect you were.
week six is when things became unhealthy, well thats what you friends had said.
he started isolating you.
every time you mentioned your friends he’d get that soft, hurt look in his eyes. “they don’t understand us—don't understand you. didn't those friends leave you here all alone the first night? what would've happened to you if i did find you?.. hm? they just want to use you and throw you away. you know i’d never do that to you.”
you stopped telling them where you were going, hell—you stopped telling them most things.
night nine he made you sit on the vip balcony and watch him work. a wealthy woman was riding him in the booth below while he stared straight up at you the entire time. every time she moaned his name he mouthed yours. when she finally left, he came straight to you, still hard, still smelling like her perfume, and shoved two fingers that had just been inside her into your mouth.
“taste what you’re missing,” he murmured darkly. “this is what i have to do because you won’t let me fuck you yet. you’re making me whore myself out while your virgin cunt stays empty. doesn’t that make you feel selfish?”
you cried so hard you couldn’t speak. harua kissed your tears away and told you it was okay he forgave you. then he spent the next hour edging you until you were a shaking, broken mess, denying you every single time you got close.
night eleven he crossed another line.
he had you naked from the waist down on the couch, legs spread obscenely wide while he slowly fucked you with just the tip of his cock—never pushing past the head, just rubbing and stretching your entrance until you were sobbing and begging.
“please, harua… you can just put it in… i promis—”
he cut you off by slapping your clit lightly with the wet head of his cock, eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.
“you don’t get to decide when i ruin you, bunny. you’ve been teasing me for almost a month. coming in here every few nights dripping and desperate, letting me use your mouth, then going home like a good little girl. if you really wanted me you’d let me fuck you raw right now.”
when you tried to pull away he gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and kept teasing your entrance, voice soft and vicious.
“stay still. good girls don’t run from the man who owns them.”
you came just from the humiliation and the constant pressure of his cockhead against your hole, shaking and crying while he praised you for being such a pathetic, needy little thing.
friday night.
the club is packed, bass throbbing like a second heartbeat between your legs as you walk in. you’re already trembling before you even see him.
harua finds you instantly. tonight there’s no slow approach. he takes your wrist and pulls you through the crowd, straight into the private room. the second the door locks he presses you face-first against the mirrored wall, yanks your skirt up, and shoves two fingers into your soaked cunt without warning.
you cry out at the sudden stretch, legs shaking.
“harua—wait—please—”
“shhh.” his voice is low, almost loving, as he fucks you with those long fingers, deep and relentless. “you’ve been such a good girl the last two weeks. texting when i tell you. coming back every time i call. letting me play with this virgin pussy until you cry.” he curls his fingers viciously against your g-spot. “but i’ve been patient long enough, yea?.”
you sob against the mirror, mascara running, thighs trembling as he forces pleasure through you whether you want it or not.
he leans in, lips brushing your ear, silver chain cold against your shoulder.
“mm…i’m off work tomorrow,” he murmurs, voice dark and possessive. “no clients. no one else touching me. i want you to come over to my place instead.”
his fingers never stop moving, dragging you closer and closer to the edge while he speaks.
“you’re going to let me have you properly this time. no more teasing. no more stopping. i’m going to fuck you raw in my bed until the only thing left in that pretty head is my name and my cum.”
he presses his hard cock against your ass through his pants, grinding slowly.
“and you’re going to thank me for it, aren’t you, angel?” his teeth graze your neck. “because you’re already mine. you’ve been mine since the first night you let me cum down your throat like a good little pet.”
he finally lets you cum—hard, violent, knees buckling—while he holds you up and whispers against your hair:
“tomorrow night. my place.”
your hands are shaking so badly you can barely press the doorbell. you’re wearing the same too-short skirt he likes, because you knew he wouldn't be too happy if you wore something sloppy. when the door opens, harua is standing there in a black tank top and sweatpants, hair still damp from a shower, a pretty chain resting against his collarbones.
no club lights. no bass. no witnesses.
just him, and the soft, dangerous smile that makes your stomach twist.
“there’s my bunny,” he murmurs, voice low and sugary. he pulls you inside by the wrist, closes the door, and locks it with a quiet click that sounds far too final. “you actually came. good girl. i knew you wouldn't run, you know where you belong.”
the apartment is dim, but even despite the low light, you can see how expensive it looks, marble countertops in his kitchen, modern furniture, and the smell of his $400 cologne drenching the air. before you can even look around properly, he’s backing you against the wall, cupping your face with both hands like you’re something fragile.
“you’re trembling,” he whispers, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “still so scared of me after everything i’ve done to you… after you’ve cried on my fingers and choked on my cock for two whole weeks.” he leans in and kisses you slow, deep, sweet—the kind of kiss that makes your knees weak. “that’s okay. i like you scared. it’ll make you tighter.”
he keeps his fingers loosely wrapped around your wrist, thumb stroking slow circles over your pulse point as he looks down at you. the hallway light is warm and low, casting gentle shadows across his face. his hair is still slightly damp, silver strands catching the light, and that lazy, knowing smirk is back—softer tonight, almost fond.
“you’re shaking already, bunny,” he murmurs, voice low and honeyed.
“we haven’t even done anything yet.”
he guides you further inside, not toward the bedroom, but to his living room. the space is neat, expensive, and dimly lit—just a single pretty lamp and the city glow filtering through half-drawn curtains. he sits on the wide leather couch first, then tugs you down so you’re straddling his lap, knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his thighs. your too-short skirt rides up, but he doesn’t touch you there. not yet.
his hands settle respectfully on your waist, fingers warm through the thin fabric of your top.
“hi,” he says simply, like this is a normal date. like he didn’t spend the last few weeks finger-fucking you in a club private room until you sobbed. he leans in and kisses you—slow, sweet, almost chaste at first. just soft presses of his plush lips against yours, again and again, until you relax a fraction.
when he feels you soften, he tilts his head and deepens it, tongue sliding lazily against yours, coaxing rather than demanding. one hand leaves your waist to cup the back of your neck, thumb stroking the sensitive skin there while he kisses you like he has all the time in the world.
minutes pass like that. just kissing. deep, wet, unhurried kisses that leave you dizzy and breathing harder. every time you try to rock your hips against him, he stills you with a gentle but firm grip, pulling back just enough to speak against your lips.
“not yet, angel. we’re going slow tonight. i want to enjoy you properly.”
the kiss drags on, slow and syrupy, until your head is spinning and your thighs are trembling on either side of his lap. harua keeps one hand anchored at your waist, the other cradling the back of your neck like you’re something breakable and precious. every time you try to roll your hips, chase the hard line of his cock pressing up through his sweatpants, he stills you with a gentle squeeze and a soft little “shh” against your mouth.
“slow, bunny,” he murmurs, voice low and velvet-rough, “i’ve waited weeks to have you like this. i’m not rushing.”
he kisses you until your lips feel swollen and your breathing is shaky. only then does he pull back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded and dark.
“look at me.”
you do. your eyes are already glassy.
harua’s thumb strokes your bottom lip. “you’re going to let me take everything tonight, yeah? every first. every tear. every little sound. you’re going to give it all to me.”
you nod before you can even think, a tiny, overwhelmed whimper slipping out.
“good girl.”
he kisses you again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against yours while his hands finally start to move. they slip under your top, palms warm against your bare skin, slowly pushing the fabric up until he’s peeling it off you. the cool air hits your chest and you instinctively try to cover yourself, but harua catches your wrists and pins them gently behind your back with one hand.
“don’t hide. let me see what’s mine.” his voice drops lower. “been dreaming about these pretty tits for weeks.”
he leans in and drags his tongue over one nipple, slow and wet, then sucks it into his mouth with a low groan. your back arches hard. he takes his time, licking and sucking until both nipples are shiny and aching, until you’re squirming in his lap and making those helpless little sounds he loves so much.
only then does he slide his hands under your skirt, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties.
“up,” he orders softly.
you lift your hips. he drags the soaked fabric down your thighs and pockets them without a word, like a trophy.
two long fingers slide through your folds and you jolt, a broken gasp leaving you.
“already dripping,” he coos, almost tenderly. “my poor little bunny. been wet for me since you walked through my door, huh?”
he circles your clit with the pad of his middle finger, feather-light, teasing until your thighs shake. then he sinks one finger inside you, slow and deep, curling it just right. your head falls forward onto his shoulder with a sob.
“haru—ah—!”
“shh. just one for now. gotta stretch you open nice and easy.” he pumps the finger in and out, adding a second when your hips start rocking on their own. “that’s it… fuck yourself on my fingers like a good girl. show me how bad you need it.”
he scissors his fingers, stretching you, curling them against that spot that makes you see stars. his thumb finds your clit and rubs tight, steady circles. your moans turn into little cries, tears already slipping down your cheeks.
harua watches your face the entire time, eyes dark and obsessed.
“look at those pretty tears,” he whispers, voice wrecked. “crying on my fingers again. you’re so fucking perfect when you cry for me.”
he keeps you right on the edge for long minutes, slowing down every time you get close, until you’re babbling and sobbing into his neck.
“please—please, harua, i can’t— i need—”
he pulls his fingers out suddenly and you whine at the loss.
“ah-ah-ah. no, you’ve cum on my fingers enough. want you to do it in my mouth this time.”
before you can protest, he lifts you like you weigh nothing and lays you back on the wide leather couch. he settles between your spread thighs, pushing them wider apart with his palms until your pussy is completely exposed to him.
the cool air hits your soaked folds and you instinctively try to close your legs, but harua’s grip tightens, keeping you open like a pretty little offering.
“—wait—ah—!” your voice cracks, shy and overwhelmed. “you don’t have to… i’ve never— no one’s ever—”
“i know,” he cuts you off softly, eyes locked on your dripping cunt like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. his voice drops into that sweet, honeyed drawl. “that’s exactly why i’m doing it. no one else has tasted this pretty pussy before. only me. and no one will get to taste it after, right bunny?”
he leans in closer, breath hot against your soaked pussy as he stares up at you from between your thighs.
“right, bunny?” he repeats, voice softer but edged with something dangerous. “say it. tell me no one else will ever taste this pretty cunt. tell me it’s only ever going to be mine.”
his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open even wider when you hesitate. a single tear slips down your cheek. harua watches it fall with hungry fascination.
“i… it’s only yours, harua…” you whisper, voice trembling and shy.
his lips curve into a slow, satisfied smile.
“good girl.”
then his mouth is on you.
he leans in slowly, dragging the flat of his tongue from your entrance all the way up to your swollen clit in one long, filthy stripe—groaning deeply at your taste. the sound vibrates straight through your core. the wet heat of his mouth makes your whole body jerk.
a broken whimper spills out of you.
harua groans deeply, like he’s the one being pleasured. “fuck… you taste even sweeter than i imagined.” he licks you again, slower this time, savoring every drop. “been thinking about burying my face between these thighs for weeks. every time my mouth was being used i was imagining—eating your innocent little cunt.”
he seals his plush lips around your clit and sucks gently, then harder, alternating between slow, lazy licks and tight, wet suction that makes your toes curl. two fingers slide inside you without warning, curling instantly against that spongy spot that makes you see stars.
your hands fly to his hair, fingers threading through the messy black and silver strands as your back arches clean off the couch.
“ha—harua—! it’s too much— i— i can’t—!”
“you can,” he murmurs against your pussy, the vibration making you sob. “you’re gonna cum on my tongue like a good girl. mmmh—wanna feel this tight little hole fluttering while i drink you up.”
he eats you like he’s starving—messy, wet, and nasty. the obscene sounds of his tongue and fingers working your soaked cunt fill the quiet living room. the soft squelches causing your face to burn. harua moans and hums against you, eyes flicking up every few seconds to watch your face twist in pure pleasure and embarrassment. both emotions fighting for dominance.
every time your thighs start to shake and your cries get higher, he slows down just enough to keep you dangling right on the edge.
tears are streaming down your cheeks again. you’re babbling now, half-sobbing, half-moaning.
“please—please please please—mmmph—m’ so close—hng—need to cum—”
“that’s itttt, bunny… beg for me,” he purrs, voice thick and dripping with lust, that soft nagano accent curling around every word. “lemme hear how badly you need to cum. such a polite little virgin, crying and whimpering for my tongue.”
he sucks your swollen clit back into his mouth hard, tongue flicking fast and merciless while his two fingers pump deeper, curling viciously against that spongy spot inside you with every stroke. the wet, obscene noises get louder—slick, filthy sounds of his mouth devouring you mixed with the wet squelch of his fingers.
your hips jerk helplessly, thighs trembling violently around his head as you sob and babble.
harua doesn’t slow down this time.
he doubles down, sucking harder, licking faster, fingers fucking you with deep, punishing strokes. his pretty silver-tipped hair is messy from your desperate grip, but he doesn’t care. he moans continuously into your cunt, eyes locked on your tear-drenched face the entire time.
“cum for me, bun,” he growls against your clit, voice wrecked. “cum on my tongue like the needy little slut you’re becoming. let me taste how hard i’m ruining you.”
the coil in your stomach snaps violently.
you cum with a broken, high-pitched cry, back arching sharply off the couch as your entire body shakes. your walls clamp down hard around his fingers, fluttering and pulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you. fresh hot tears pour down your cheeks whilst you babble nonsense—far too overwhelmed.
harua moans loudly, almost greedily, as he continues licking and sucking you through every single pulse, and drinking down every drop of your release like he’s addicted. he doesn’t stop until your legs are twitching uncontrollably and your sobs have turned into soft, overwhelmed whimpers.
only then does he pull his fingers out slowly and crawl up your trembling body. his lips and chin are shiny with your slick. he looks completely feral—pupils constricting to pinpricks, cheeks flushed a pretty shade of red, that smile
harua hovers over you, his face inches from yours, lips and chin still glistening with your release. his eyes are dark, hungry, and completely fixated on the fresh tears sliding down your flushed cheeks, smirk turned to a small unsettling grin.
“mm… so pretty like this,” he murmurs, voice low and rough but still attempting to hold onto that sweetness. his thumb gently traces one of the tear tracks. “all teary-eyed and ruined from just my mouth. what do we say, bunny?”
you’re still trembling, chest heaving, thighs twitching from the aftershocks. your voice comes out small, shaky, and embarrassingly wet. the words slip from your mouth before you can even think about them—far too out of it from your orgasm.
“th-thank you… harua…” you whisper, its barely audible as you pant through the words. “thank you for… for making me cum…”
he kisses your forehead once, almost gently, then stands up and takes your wrist in a firm grip. without another word he pulls you up from the couch. your legs are still shaking so badly you nearly collapse, but harua catches you, steadying you with a hand on your waist.
“come on, bunny. living room is cute, but i’m not fucking you for the first time on the couch like some cheap client.”
he leads you down the short hallway, grip never loosening. the bedroom door is already ajar. the room is tidy—cozy, not what you are expecting from the brief view you got of his otherwise bare bones living room and kitchen. a few plushies placed upon his bed, and god—bed is huge, covered in silky pretty pastel purple sheets that look expensive and cold.
the second you’re inside, harua gives you a light but firm push between your shoulder blades.
you fall forward onto the bed with a startled gasp, your face sinking into the cool, silky sheets. before you can push yourself up, harua grabs your hips and yanks your ass high into the air, forcing you onto your knees with your chest pressed down. your cheek stays buried in the sheets, ass presented up like an offering.
he spreads your thighs wider, completely exposing your dripping, freshly eaten pussy to him.
“stay just like that,” he orders softly, voice low and sweet. “face down, ass up.”
you hear the rustle of fabric as he pushes his sweatpants down. his cock slaps heavy and hot against your ass cheek once, twice, smearing warm precum on your soft skin.
then his hands are on you again, one stroking slowly up your spine, the other gripping your hip possessively. harua’s voice drops, still velvety but now carrying a meaner, mocking edge.
“so… be honest with me, bunny.” he leans over your back, lips brushing your ear as the fat head of his cock teases up and down your soaked slit.
“how many people have fucked this pretty little cunt before me?”
he presses just the tip against your entrance, not pushing in, just letting you feel the stretch.
“or maybe…” his voice turns darker, almost cruel in its sweetness, “you’ve let other guys play with you, hmm? fingers? toys? did some boy from your nice little life get to taste you before i did?”.
harua keeps the fat head of his cock pressed right against your entrance, not pushing in, just letting you feel the heavy, threatening stretch. he gives a low, mocking chuckle when he feels you tense, his lips brush the shell of your ear as he waits for your answer, voice dripping with mock sweetness.
you’re shaking, face buried deeper into the silky purple sheets, voice small and trembling.
“i-i’ve never been with anyone—promise…” you whimper nervously. “i’ve never let anyone fuck me. that’s why—um…my friends dragged me to the club that night… they said i needed to get laid or something…that i was too innocent for my age. but i’ve never done anything with another person before you. just—um—toys…”
harua’s grip on your hip tightens, a low, pleased sound vibrating in his chest.
“only toys?” he asks, voice turning darker, more curious. “tell me, bunny. what kind of toys have you been putting in this tight little cunt?…were any of them as big as me?”
your cheeks burn with humiliation. you squeeze your eyes shut, voice barely above a whisper.
“just… just a couple of small vibrators and one dildo…but—it was small—nothing like you.”
harua lets out a low, satisfied hum, almost a purr, as his thumb continues stroking soothingly up and down your spine.
“that’s what i like to hear…” he murmurs, voice dripping with dark sweetness. “such a good, honest little pet. never been touched by anyone else. just some pathetic little toys… and now you’re here, presenting this untouched cunt to me.”
he pulls his hips back slightly, then presses forward again, bullying the thick, swollen head of his cock harder against your tiny entrance. the pressure is relentless. he doesn’t ease in gently—he forces the fat head past your tight ring of muscle with a slow, steady push.
the stretch is immediate and intense.
you gasp sharply into the sheets, eyes flying wide as the head finally pops inside you. it feels impossibly big compared to the toys you've played around with, it's like he’s splitting you open and he’s barely even put the tip in.
“s’ too much—”
harua groans deeply, the sound low and wrecked, his fingers digging hard into your hip to keep you from squirming away. you are sure that tiny crescents created by his nails will be left for you to see tomorrow.
“fuuuck… there we go,” he breathes, voice hoarse with lust. “eh? too much? it’s barley an inch, you gotta take it all, bunny.”
he lets out a soft, mocking laugh that vibrates against your back. the fat head of his cock is lodged inside you, stretching your entrance obscenely wide, and he hasn’t even given you more than the tip yet. his free hand slides up your back and tangles gently in your hair, not pulling, just holding you down against the cool sheets.
“you’re already crying and saying it’s too much?” he coos, almost tenderly even as he pushes a bit deeper. “how pathetic… and how cute. i haven’t even fed you half my cock and you’re falling apart already.”
he rocks his hips again, slowly bullying another thick inch into your fluttering walls, watching with dark fascination as your pussy stretches obscenely around him. the burn is intense. you sob into the sheets, fingers clawing at the silky fabric. his cock is far bigger than any of the tiny toys you’d used before.
“shh, shh… breathe for me, angel,” he coos, almost tenderly, even as he pushes in deeper. “you can take it. you’re gonna take it—every single inch like a good girl. this is what you came back to the club for night after night, right? this is what your innocent little body was begging for. this is what you were made for.”
another shallow thrust. then another.
he groans softly as he sinks in deeper, hips pressing forward until he’s almost fully buried inside you. the stretch is overwhelming—burning, full, almost too much. your sobs are muffled into the silky purple sheets, fresh tears pouring down your face and soaking the light fabric dark.
harua’s hand tightens in your hair, not yanking, just holding you down as he bottoms out completely with one final, firm push. his hips flush against your ass, every inch of his thick cock buried deep inside your fluttering cunt.
“fuuuuck…” he moans, long and wrecked. “you’re mine now, you know that, right? this cunt belongs to me. every tear, every whimper, everything—it’s all fucking mine. no more club. there’s no need to go there anymore… you just come here and wait for me like a good little pet, yeah?”
all you can manage is a pathetic, broken whine as your walls clench hard around his cock. the stretch is so overwhelming that your vision blurs.
harua rolls his eyes at your lack of proper answer, but his voice stays soft and mocking. “aww, bunny can’t even speak? already? eh…? that’s okay… i’ll fuck the words out of you.”
he starts moving—painfully slow, deep, deliberate rolls of his hips that drag his cock almost all the way out before sliding back in to the hilt. every stroke feels like it’s reshaping you from the inside.
“does it hurt, angel?” he coos, voice dripping with fake sympathy while he fucks you in those long, claiming strokes. “is my cock too big for this tiny inexperienced pussy? poor thing… did you really think those pathetic little toys could prepare you for me?”
“h-harua… ah—! it’s so deep— too deep—!” you whimper, voice high and shaky. “s’ too big… i-i can’t— hngh—!” finger clawing at the fabric beneath you, but the cool silk only slips from your fingers with each grab.
he chuckles softly, still moving slow and deep, making sure you feel every single inch of his cock.
“yes, you can, angel. listen to how wet you are… your pussy is sucking me in so greedily. sounds like you were made to take my cock—made for me.”
he keeps the slow, torturous pace for long minutes, grinding against that warm gummy spot inside you with every thrust. your moans and whimpers on,y grow louder, more desperate, turning into broken little cries every time he bottoms out.
“harua—! ahh— please— it feels—feels too mu—i’m—i’m gonna—!”
“you’re gonna what, bunny?” he mocks, voice sweet yet cruel. “gonna cum already? just from my cock stretching you open? how adorably pathetic. i guess you can cum, go on"
he reaches around and rubs tight, steady circles over your swollen clit while still fucking you slow and deep.
you shatter without warning.
a broken, high-pitched cry tears from your throat as your orgasm crashes through you. your walls clamp down hard around his thick cock, fluttering and pulsing violently as you cum harder than you ever have in your life. fresh tears pour down your face, tears and your release soaking the sheets whilst you sob and shake beneath him.
harua groans loudly, but he doesn’t stop. he fucks you straight through it—slow, deep, relentless strokes that drag out every wave of your orgasm until you’re twitching and oversensitive.
“harua—! too much—! please— i can’t—!” you sob, trying to scramble forward on the bed, crawling away from the overstimulation as your body jerks and writhes.
in one swift movement, harua’s hand shoots out and grabs your ankle, yanking you back toward him hard. you yelp as he drags you back into position.
“don’t you fucking run from me,” he growls, voice dripping with slight annoyance. how dare you try to run from him? don't you know your place? where you belong?
he slaps your soaked pussy hard—a sharp, wet smack right over your sensitive clit. you cry out, jolting violently.
then he pushes back in to the hilt in one brutal thrust, burying himself completely.
a broken scream leaves your lips.
harua grips your hair tighter, yanking your head back sharply so your back arches hard against his sweat soaked tank-top. his hips snap forward in brutal, punishing thrusts, fucking you so deep and hard the bed creaks loudly beneath you two.
“mmmphh— that’s it, bunny,” he growls, voice low and almost desperate, “scream for me. cry louder. i want my neighbors to hear what i'm doing to you—want everyone to know how much your virgin cunt is struggling to take me— to know how much of a slut you are despite the struggle—
you’re a mess—sobbing, drooling, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you choke out broken sounds with every brutal thrust.
“ahh—! too hard—! s’ too much—! i can’t—hngh— ahh!”
he laughs softly, dark and satisfied, leaning down to bite at your shoulder while his hips slap loudly against your ass.
“you can’t? hm…but you’re creaming all over my cock, angel. look at you… already came once and you’re still squeezing me like a desperate little whore."
he slaps your ass hard, the sharp sound echoing in the room, then reaches around to slap your swollen, sensitive clit again—harder this time.
you scream at the sudden sharp sting—your hips jerk violently, walls fluttering wildly around him and squeezing around him, fresh slick gushing out of you—soaking the sheeks beneath.
he yanks your hair again, forcing your head back further so he can see your tear-stained face from the side.
“look at those pretty tears… fuck, you cry so beautifully when i ruin you.” his voice drops into something almost reverent, even as he destroys you. “my perfect little crybaby. my innocent girl turning into such a pathetic, cock-drunk mess for me.”
your second orgasm hits you without mercy—even stronger than the first. your whole body shakes violently as you sob and wail, walls spasming and gushing around his thick cock. he can see how your thighs pulse and your body struggles against his hold—obviously too overwhelmed. but he makes no effort to stop, he hasn't even came yet.
harua groans loudly but doesn’t slow down. he fucks you straight through it, pounding you harder, using your hair like a handle to pull you back onto his cock with every thrust.
“that’s my good girl… cumming again already? so fucking easy to break.”
he leans in close, lips brushing your ear as he keeps railing you mercilessly.
“you’re never leaving me, bunny. you understand that now, right? this pussy is mine. this body is mine. every single tear you cry while i fuck you belongs to me.”
harua’s fingers twist tighter in your hair, wrenching your head back with zero mercy. your back bows sharply, pain blooming down your spine as the top of your back collides with his sweat-slicked chest. his hips slam into you hard and ruthless, the loud, wet smack of skin against skin filling the room like pure filth.
“say it,” he snarls against your ear, voice low and dark. “say you understand. say you belong to me.”
you can barely form words anymore—only broken, tear-soaked sobs and whimpers fall from your lips with every devastating thrust.
“i—i belong to you—! harua—! ahh—! yours— i’m yours—!” you cry out, voice cracking.
his fingers tighten in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to arch your spine even harder against him, forcing you to feel every single veined inch of his thick cock buried inside your fluttering heat. the silver chain around his neck swings forward, cool metal brushing your overheated skin with every ragged breath he takes.
“fuck… that’s my good girl,” he rasps, voice low and velvet-rough, the soft nagano lilt thicker than ever with lust. “say it again. let me hear how pretty you sound when you admit you’re ruined for anyone else.”
he doesn’t wait for you to obey. his hips snap forward in one savage thrust, driving so deep your vision sparks white. the wet, filthy sound of skin meeting skin fills the dim bedroom, mingling with the obscene squelch of your soaked, overstretched pussy taking him to the hilt again and again. he sets a brutal rhythm—long, punishing strokes that drag almost all the way out before slamming back in, grinding against that sensitive spot inside you with cruel precision.
he drops your hair, body falling flush aganist the sheets now drenched with your various fluids. you sob helplessly into the silky pastel purple, fresh tears soaking deeply into the sheets amongst everything else beneath your cheek. your thighs tremble violently, knees threatening to give out, but harua’s grip on your hip keeps you exactly where he wants you—ass up, back arched, completely exposed and helpless.
“tell me,” he demands, voice dripping with mock sweetness even as he destroys you. “tell me no one else will ever touch this pussy. tell me you’re done pretending to be that sweet innocent girl. you belong in my bed now—crying on my cock like my personal little whore.”
you’re barely coherent, but the words tumble out between sobs anyway, driven by the relentless drag of his cock and the pressure on your clit. “no one else—! only you—! i’m yours— harua’s— please—!”
the praise and filth pouring from him in that honeyed voice only makes you clench harder. harua groans, hips stuttering as your walls flutter wildly around him.
“that’s it… fuck, just like that.” his thrusts grow faster, meaner, the bed creaking loudly beneath you. sweat slicks his chest, dripping down onto your back. his messy hair falls into his eyes, but he doesn’t bother brushing it away—he’s too focused on the way your body shakes beneath him.
your next orgasm slams into you. it’s sharper than the last two, almost painful in its intensity. your entire body convulses, a raw, broken scream tearing from your throat as your pussy spasms violently around his cock, gushing slick down your thighs. tears stream freely down your flushed cheeks, your mind going blissfully blank.
harua curses loudly, voice wrecked. “gooood girl—fuck, bunny—milk me just like that—”
he buries himself to the hilt and cums hard, thick, hot ropes of cum flooding deep inside you in heavy pulses. he grinds against your ass, pushing every drop as far as it will go, claiming you from the inside out. the sensation of being filled so completely draws a fresh, overwhelmed whimper from you.
for several long moments the only sounds are your ragged sobs and his heavy breathing. harua stays buried inside you, savoring the way your walls continue to flutter and milk him.
slowly, he eases out, watching with dark, obsessive hunger as his cum immediately leaks from your abused, puffy hole. he collects some with two fingers and pushes it back inside you lazily, possessively, fucking it deeper while you twitch and whine.
“mine,” he murmurs, almost reverently. “look at how well you take my cum… like you were always meant to be full of it.”
he flips you onto your back with surprising care, crawling over your trembling body. his eyes—still blown black with lust—soften at the edges as he takes in your completely ruined state: swollen lips, tear-streaked cheeks, mascara running in dark rivulets, chest heaving. he cups your face with both hands, thumbs gently brushing away the tears still slipping from your lashes.
“you were perfect, angel,” he whispers, voice dropping back into that soft, almost loving tone. he leans down and kisses you slow and deep, tasting the salt of your tears and the faint remnants of your earlier orgasms. the kiss is unhurried now, tender in a way that feels dangerously intimate after how hard he just fucked you.
when he pulls back, he presses softer kisses to your forehead, your damp cheeks, the tip of your nose, then rests his forehead against yours. his silver chain pools cool against your collarbone.
“think i’ll keep you, pet” he whispers.
two months later.
harua’s apartment no longer feels like his.
it feels like yours—or rather, like the cage he’s so lovingly built around you.
your old life is gone. your friends have been slowly cut off with carefully planted guilt trips and soft, teary-eyed manipulations until they stopped reaching out. your things are here now—folded neatly in his drawers, your pastel pajamas hanging beside his black silk shirts, your favorite plush bunny sitting on his bed like a silent witness to how far you’ve fallen.
you don’t go to the club anymore.
you just wait for him at home, just like he told you to.
tonight he came back later than usual. the moment the front door clicked shut, you were already on your knees in the entryway like the well-trained little pet you’ve become—wearing nothing but one of his oversized black button-ups, the hem barely covering your ass.
harua’s eyes darkened the second he saw you.
now he has you bent over the dining table, cheek pressed against the cool marble table, legs spread wide. the shirt is bunched up around your waist and his cock is buried to the hilt inside you, fucking you in slow, deep, possessive strokes.
“still so tight for me,” he murmurs, voice breathy and silken, “even after i’ve fucked this pretty cunt almost every single day for two months… you still squeeze me like a virgin.”
you whimper brokenly, fingers scrabbling against the table as he grinds deep.
“ha-haru— ahh—!”
he leans over you, chest pressed to your back, one hand sliding up to wrap loosely around your throat while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise.
“look at you,” he coos, almost tenderly. “my sweet, innocent bunny… now you cry so sweetly when i fuck you. you used to fight it. used to whimper ‘too much’ and try to crawl away.” he chuckles darkly, rolling his hips in a slow circle that makes you sob. “now you just spread your legs and thank me when i fill you up.”
he pulls out almost completely, then slams back in hard, punching the air out of your lungs.
you cry out sharply, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks.
harua groans at the sight.
“fuck… there they are. my favorite tears.” he kisses the side of your face, licking a tear track before whispering hotly against your ear, “you’re so much prettier when you cry on my cock, angel. my perfect little crybaby.”
his pace picks up—still deep, but faster now, more relentless. the wet, filthy sound of him fucking you fills the entire apartment.
“tell me who you belong to,” he demands softly, tightening his fingers around your throat just enough to make your head spin.
“i—i belong to you—” you sob, voice shaky and wrecked. “only you, harua— please—!”
“good girl,” he praises, voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “that’s right. no more friends. no more club. no more world outside of me. you’re mine to keep. mine to ruin. mine to fill whenever i want.”
he reaches around and rubs firm circles over your swollen clit, never slowing his thrusts.
you shatter hard, crying out his name as your third orgasm of the night crashes through you. your walls clamp down around him, pulsing and fluttering, milking his cock while you sob and shake.
harua moans low and broken, burying himself as deep as possible as he finally lets go.
“take it— take all of it, bunny—”
he cums hard, thick, hot spurts flooding deep inside you, filling you until you can feel it leaking out around where he’s still buried. he keeps grinding lazily, pushing his cum even deeper, like he’s trying to mark every inch of you.
when he finally stills, he doesn’t pull out.
instead he wraps both arms around you, holding you tight against his chest as he nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft, almost loving kisses to your tear-stained skin.
“my sweet girl,” he whispers, voice soft and reverent now. “you’ve become so perfect for me… i don’t know what i’d do if you ever tried to leave.”
his fingers gently stroke your hair as he stays buried inside you, warm and possessive.
𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾—𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹. 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗈. 𝖻𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗌. 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗱. 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 ♡
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: this took me forever to finish.. sorry hehe ! but its finally here ~ i got an ask that gave me the idea and i had realized i dont have any dead dove for our ruru, sooo i made it a bigger fic (by big i mean over 10k words oopsies (๑>•̀๑) i loved writing this tho aaaaa i dont tend to write harua as submissive, i see him more of being a bratty dom—i dont really write any of &team as inherently / extremely submissive,, some just tend to have submissive traits (taki is a good example) ,, i also like to think most "feminine" idols become very different in bed~~ anyway !! i hope u all enjoy this.. i'll also probably be posting fics at a much slower pace than before ! quality or quantity plus trying to focus on not let myself get as burned out as i have right now from pumping out stuff so rapidly hehe
“i can’t stand him! just look at that fucking face!”
“i mean yeahhh he’s pretty hot,” maki nods as he leans in to look at what you’re staring at. yuma nakakita.
“what- no! i mean look how smug he looks!” you smack your best friend in the chest, a frown dawning your face, “why are you calling the enemy hot???”
“girl you say enemy but i think you just want to fuck him,” your damn friend bursts into a fit of laughter as he states the obvious, “all you do is talk about him, even now when there’s like a hundred other guys around you, you choose to talk about him.”
“whose side are you on mauss?”
“lets be real babe. you know i’m right.”
you storm off like a spoiled brat, unable to accept anything maki had just said because deep down, you knew it was true. that you wanted to fuck yuma.
yuma is hot, the hottest man you’ve met in your entire life. and once upon a time, you might’ve had the tiniest crush on him... until he opened his mouth the first time you met him during class and every single one of his words were like venom, attacking you for no apparent reason.
and you’ve hated him since.
you always questioned why yuma picked on you so much but just passed it off as his shitty personality.
sigh.
hoping to rid yuma off your mind, you pour yourself three shots and down them in record time, like a girl on a mission, to get drunk and enjoy the rest of your night at the frat party.
“they just invite anyone to these parties now?”
that voice. that god awful voice you’ve dreaded hearing all night.
so you ignore.
well try to but yuma being yuma, makes himself comfortable in front of you, entirely blocking your way.
“what the hell do you want?” your voice reeks of irritation but it doesn’t seem to phase the man one bit. looking up, you meet his gaze and almost immediately... you regret it.
because even with this much hatred for him, you still found yourself weak in the knees every damn time he looked at you. you must be sick in the head because it made no sense.
“ouch, who hurt you,” he smirks, mocking you, “always such a bitch.”
“excuse me?”
“let me repeat myself slowly so you can understand better,” he leans in towards you, his face just inches away from yours, “you’re. such. a. bitch.”
“fuck you!”
you know for a fact that he’s trying to rile you up so you had to fight it, to keep calm and just walk away from the situation. the last thing you needed right now was to lose your voice from another screaming match with him in the middle of all these people.
with a sigh, you step around him but he’s quick to block you. again and again, yuma blocks your path until you accidentally bump into him and spill your drink onto yourself, completely drenching your white top.
“are you happy?” you spit at him, venom lacing your tone as frustration seeps through your entire body.
you both stay silent for a moment, no one saying or moving away from the situation or the closeness. your breath hitches when you catch his gaze drop for a split second, to your chest before going back to you.
you wait for the incoming attack of snarky remarks, of laughter, of smirks but nothing comes. instead, the man grabs your wrist and pulls you along, all the way up the stairs. a “prohibited area” for party goers.
“yuma- let go!” you struggle to free yourself from his grasp but he doesn’t budge, not until you’re both standing inside a bedroom that you assume belongs to him. you watch as he pulls out a random shirt from his closet and throws it at you, without a single remark or even a mocking look.
that’s new.
“i-” you can’t help but sound awkward, not knowing how to react to your enemy being slightly nice for once. “l- look away!”
“it’s not like there’s anything to see.”
“screw you,” you say as you quickly change while the man has his back to you.
“why are you always such a fucking bitch to me?” he turns back without care but luckily you’re already done changing, much to his dismay, “maybe you need to get dicked.”
“yeah maybe but definitely not by you.”
before you could even turn to leave, yuma grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. the sudden obvious tension in the room is suffocating to say the least but it’s his darkened gaze that has you feeling nervous all over. the look in his eyes is completely unreadable, a stark contrast to the mocking one he usually gave you.
“wh- what are you doing-”
“why not me?” his voice is as low as whisper, the huskiness in his tone enough to send shivers down your spine, “you don’t think i can fuck you good?”
“it’s not that i think you can’t,” you’re unsure why you’re playing into his games again, why you suddenly feel the urge to push his buttons in the most dangerous way possible. “i know you can’t.”
“watch it.”
“and what? what will you do nakakita-”
yuma slams you onto the door the moment those words leave your lips, the man now caging you in with his much bigger frame. one of his hands is resting beside your head while the other is gripped onto your waist, almost as if afraid you’d run away.
“yu-”
his lips were on yours before you could finish his name, kissing you with such urgency, like he’d been waiting for it. perhaps the alcohol you had earlier was finally kicking in, perhaps you were just plain crazy, whatever it may be, you found yourself kissing the man back without hesitation as well.
the kiss is nothing but rough, your bottom lip feels completely numb from how harsh he is being but you don’t care. you wanted more. you wanted nakakita yuma.
“tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop,” he mumbles as he pulls away slightly, just enough for you both to catch your breaths.
“yuma-”
“tell me!” desperation flashes across his eyes as his grip tightens around you, like he wants you to say it. to say that you wanted this too.
“fuck me.”
“what?” he freezes for a moment, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. and at this point, neither can you.
never in a million years did you think something like this would happen, that you’re trapped against the wall by your so called enemy who’s literally begging you to give him the green light. to fuck you.
what a turn of events this is.
“please,” you whisper, hands lacing themselves around his neck to pull him closer, “just fuck me.”
for the first time since you’ve met him, yuma actually looks like he has nothing to say. entirely flabbergasted to his core.
perhaps it’ll be something you’ll both regret tomorrow morning but right now, you both wanted nothing more than this.
because one second you’re grinding each other against the door and the next, you’re lying amongst his soft haven of sheets and pillows with the man himself hovering over. his hands are already busy at your waist, holding it down, his grip even rougher than before.
“y- yuma...” you’re already breathless from the way he’s kissing at your neck, decorating your delicate skin with marks you know will turn a different shade by tomorrow. but that’s a problem you’ll deal with tomorrow, along with maki’s hundreds and hundreds of incoming questions about them.
“hm?” he hums into your skin, “tell me what you want.”
“do something... anything.”
he pauses for a moment to look up at you, eyes drooped over as a smirk appears across his face. that god damn smirk you hated with your entire being.
“this,” the man says as he lifts your jaw up and runs his thumb gently over your lips, “if i knew it’d shut you up, i would’ve kissed you a long time ago.”
“well hurry up then or are you just gonna talk all night?”
and the man didn’t need to be asked twice, immediately going back in to kiss you like he’s hungry, like he had been starved for days on end. he kisses you like he’s desperate for you.
his hand is at the hem of your skirt before you even realised, fingers already creeping its way underneath the flimsy fabric. his touch sends a shiver through you, the coldness of his fingertips although unexpected, feels so unbelievably soft against your skin.
yuma pulls away for a second to catch his breath but his eyes stay on you the entire time, silently watching you react to his fingers finally reaching where you needed him most. you gasp at the feeling of him pushing against your clothed core but don’t push it away, hell you wanted him to rip that shitty piece of material away already!
“yuma...”
“say it again. say my name again.”
“yuma- ah!”
the man yanks aside your panties and pushes into you mid sentence, immediately filling you with two of his fingers. if this is how it felt with just his fingers, you couldn’t imagine what his dick would be like later.
he isn’t rough like you initially thought he’d be. instead, the man takes his time with you, allowing you to adjust until you’re comfortable enough for him to move. and when you finally are, he moves slowly, in and out of you ever so gently but enough to have you seeing stars.
you almost pass out when his thumb presses down onto your clit, softly kneading at it as his fingers continued working your core. your insides clench desperately around him then, your body needing more of him. now.
for once you’re thankful for the loud music downstairs because the sounds you were already making weren’t appropriate at all. no matter how hard you held back, moans, whimpers and the soft calls of his name spilled from your lips uncontrollably. like you were going insane.
“i can feel you clenching- fuck-” his voice is lower than usual, almost breathy, “will you let me? let me make you feel so good?”
you try to respond but nothing comes besides another pathetic whimper. so you grab him by the neck instead, yanking him down and kissing him. hard and desperate.
you know he’s pleased with the move, evident in the way he’s instantly grinning into the kiss. and embarrassingly enough, you were grinning too. ear to ear. it’s an unbelievably sweet moment, something you never thought could happen between you and yuma.
yet it’s happening right now and your damn heart is thrashing way too hard about it.
with everything that’s happening, it doesn’t take long before you feel that familiar knot inside, waiting to combust. but you needed that small push, something yuma instantly catches onto and fulfils right away. thank god for that.
his fingers curl inside of you before he fastens his hands, a combination of movements that immediately had you reaching that cloud nine high you were waiting for. your entire body shutters as you finally come, your juices freely making a mess over his hands and the sheets beneath. the embarrassment can wait because you’re currently too fucked out to care.
“look at you, so so fucking pretty for me,” he says as he puts his fingers into his mouth, the very same fingers that were just inside of you a second before. and the very same ones that are dripping with your juices.
if your heart was thrashing before, well it’s just about to pop right out of its socket now thanks to yuma himself.
you’re not dumb, you knew yuma had a way with his words, the man able to get with just about anyone if he really wanted to. but right now, you can’t help but fall for them damn words. the way he’s gazing down at you isn’t helping your case either.
the way he looks at you tonight is different, something you just can’t seem to explain. maybe you’re just tipsy but you swear there was a glint in his eyes, a very slight hint of sincerity in them that you’ve never seen from him before.
“gonna make you feel good. make my pretty girl feel so good.”
gulp.
if it was any other man, you would’ve kicked him in the balls but just something about the way yuma claimed you as his is doing things to you, things you’ve never felt before with anyone else.
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
the sudden banging on the door immediately has you pushing up against poor yuma, almost knocking him off the bed.
“don’t worry about it, it’s probably no one-”
“dude are you in there?!” taki screams from the other side of the door as his knocking continues, “somi is looking for you!”
somi?
oh, the cheer captain. the most beautiful girl on campus.
of course she’s looking for yuma.
“hyuna and hyerim are here somewhere too! they were looking for you too! come down soon!” taki says before his voice begins to fade away, just like his footsteps.
“guess everyone wants a piece of nakakita yuma. even you.”
and reality kicks in, an instant reminder that nakakita yuma was a fuck boy, a man whore, your enemy. someone who wanted an easy fuck and almost got it out of you with some sweet words.
“right,” you don’t mean to sound disappointed but you do because you are. it was stupid but a part of you thought there was something more to the kiss, to the touches, the sweet nothings... and especially the look in his eyes. more than just to get his dick wet. but you guess you were wrong.
the smug grin on his face immediately drops once he notices the change in your tone. he reaches out then, in an attempt to grab your arm but you pull away and hurry to straighten out your clothes.
“what are you doing?” he sounds surprised, both his tone and the soft look in his eyes almost makes him seem genuine. but you know yuma, there’s no such thing as genuine for him.
“forget it. this was a mistake,” you scoff and move away from him.
“hey- i was just joking-”
“no yuma, this was a joke.”
and you were out the door, wanting nothing more than to forget about this fucked up fever dream that you needed to wake up from.
synopsis | your boyfriend has quite the appetite after his practice ends early.
details | boyfriend!euijoo x female!reader, idol au, detailed and frequent descriptions of food/cooking, 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (f rec.), established relationship, reader is shy, body worship, slight body description (curves, plush, etc.), tit kisser!wiju, biting and marking, burnt the garlic, soft dom!juju, lowercase intended, cursing
wc | 3k
from the author | im gonna eat him next... 1/3 wishes granted for @andrabunica
the difference in your schedules made the idea a quality time together a thing of dreams. you spent time together, sure, for the three hours your circadian rhythms allowed you to lay, enveloped in his arms under too-hot blankets just before you had to rise and start your day. in a rare instance, your day off would align divinely with his company’s sick idea of a schedule, and the two of you would spend a lazy morning together. ideally, it was spent swirling too much creamer in your coffee and putting on a movie you’d been wanting to watch for a while, halfway paying attention to the unfortunately terrible plot and mostly stealing kisses, as if you had a certain, unreachable quota to hit every day.
but that time wasnt quality– it was scraping crumbs off the table, craving another scoop of overpriced ice cream. there was a flashing sign above your heads, bright red numbers counting down the minutes until he had to leave for practice, predicting the weeks he would be gone for tour, promising endings before they’d even begun.
so, when euijoo texted you this evening, when your phone screen lit up with his charming contact photo, and said that practice was ending early, you felt no shame jumping around with excitement; an evening with euijoo was even rarer than a morning. earlier in your relationship, you had stayed up later just to kiss him goodnight. that was not sustainable for you, though, as it resulted in a maximum of four hours of sleep per night and turned you into a zombie of sorts. no brain, too much heart.
you planned it all out: you’d cook his favorite while he showered, you’d eat together at the dinner table that rarely received any attention, and, then, the two of you would load up that game he had bought a few weeks ago without a spare moment to play. you washed all the produce, chopped the veggies, and were executing a flawless saute, deglazing the pan with white wine and everything like a real chef, when the front door creaked open and clicked shut. euijoo’s gentle footsteps padded all the way to the kitchen, and you felt your heart skip at the sight of him in the doorway. his broad shoulders were cloaked in a loose fitting jacket with matching sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his hair tousled and slightly damp over his forehead. he was glowing, and obviously tired, but he still smiled so wide that it went straight to his eyes, cheeks round and flushed.
“what’s the occasion?” he asked, peering around deeper into the kitchen as if something were going to jump out at him, “are we having company?”
“no occasion, and no company,” you hummed and stirred the vegetables in the pan, the steam rising in dramatic puffs. your voice was perhaps too sweet as you tilted your head over your shoulder and said, “just you.”
“all this for me?” euijoo palmed his chest, crossing the kitchen to join you, “smells amazing, baby. you’re too good to me.” two arms snaked around your waist, sure and deliberate by the squeeze under your ribs. the hair on the back of your neck stood up as he tucked his face into the bend of your neck, the warmth of his cheek against your shoulder soothing any chills that threatened to slide up your spine at the contact. he inhaled, and, with another squeeze to your waist, sighed against your skin, “i’m starving.”
“so impatient,” you giggled, “it’ll be done soon.”
but euijoo didn’t budge. he hummed, the sound traveling through his chest and directly into yours where your heart stumbled in its place. “soon?” he repeated, this time letting his breath ghost directly over the side of your neck, right over your quivering pulsepoint. and then you felt it– a warm, slow kiss dipping beneath your ear. you gasped at the feeling, at the grazing of his teeth on your sensitive flesh and at the immediate soothing of his tongue, soft and wet. he released you from his hold only to shift his hands to your hips. euijoo mumbled against you, and you knew exactly what he meant when he said, “i’m hungry now.”
just like that, your plans were shattered, along with any part of you that might have pushed back against his insatiable urges. you would have been a fool to argue that garlic was more important than quality time with your boyfriend, especially as he reached over your shoulder and flipped the little knob on the stove. the once glowing rim of heat beneath the pan faded to nothing, the vegetables in the skillet still sizzling from residual heat. euijoo tilted your head to look at him over your shoulder, connecting your mouths in a sensual, hungry kiss that all but swallowed you whole. he moaned into you as you wiggled your hips, dragging the curve of your ass along the front of his sweats. euijoo slid a hand down the front of your torso, firmly planting his palm against your stomach, pushing you harder against him.
“been thinking about you all day, baby,” he mumbled, the thought almost cut short by how intensely he needed his lips on yours, “thinking about your smile.”
“that’s all?” you taunted, grinding against him with one devastating swivel of your hips that had euijoo groaning into your mouth.
“mhm,” his lips traveled down your jaw to your neck, back to that sweet spot where he started all of this. his hand on your stomach slipped past the waistband of your shorts, dipping into your panties, “and about this pussy, how sweet you taste,” he sighed as he breached your folds with impatient fingers, humming soothingly against your sensitive neck as he collected your slick. he said, weakly, “how long its been since i’ve touched you properly.” you’d thought about that, as well; you’d reeled over the struggle to connect in a rushed rut, a goodbye fuck, or as he spilled between your thighs as you slept, just needing to feel you. but you needed to feel him, too.
so, of course, your knees felt weak beneath you, hands bracing the warm cooktop to keep you from melting into a puddle at his feet. euijoo had this effect on you, and it had been that way from the start; his sweet tone, low and timid but absolutely filthy when he wanted something from you. his honey voice dripped with venom, sinking his teeth deep in your neck, plunging his tongue even deeper. his voice was smooth, laced with a hint of amusement, as he asked, “do you want me to touch you, beautiful?” the pads of his fingers hovered over your clit, and you fought your body not to grind down onto them, not yet.
you pulled your lip between your teeth, core fluttering with anticipation, and nodded, “yes, please, euijoo.” but, instead of giving you what he offered, he withdrew his hand from your shorts and left you completely without, just for a second, as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hoisted you in the air. the lift surprised you, the sudden pressure on your lower stomach sending you into a fit of laughter that all but dissolved the tension you’d felt seconds prior. his fingers that were once teasing your eager core were now encircling your hips and carrying you to your bed, his lips peppering kisses over your shoulder the whole way. you loved him for his playful side, and he was so often serious, hardworking. the moments where that part of him chipped away felt like you’d struck pure, shimmering gold, no matter how rare they were.
the floor might as well have been burning hot with how quickly you jumped back into his arms the moment he released your hips. you spun around, leaping up to snake your arms around his neck, capturing his lips. euijoo laughed, smiling into your kiss and holding you up against him, so close that you thought your bodies might merge into one. and you would not have minded one bit. he didn’t care that your hands still kind of smelled like raw onions or that you had oil droplets on the front of your shirt, evidence of the plans you barely tried to uphold. all euijoo cared about was you, having you all to himself for longer than ten minutes at a time.
he lowered you onto the mattress, one hand bracing your head as he made a conscious effort to keep his lips moving against yours, soft and hungry all at the same time. his tongue swept over yours, noses bumping. he was gentle with you despite the desperate heat of his mouth making its way down your body, leaving sparks in its wake and striking every inch of your skin. euijoo hovered over you, pushing your shirt up your torso to attach his lips to the space between your breasts. “so pretty everywhere,” he mumbled, scooping you from the constraints of your bra and suckling one of your nipples into his mouth. the hum that followed went straight to your bones, a soft moan escaping your mouth as your hand stroked the back of his head. “so pretty for me.”
his attention was fully undivided, hands tracing paths along your sides, caressing every dip and slope with the precision of an edge. euijoo worked his mouth down your sternum and the expanse of your stomach until he hovered, like a hummingbird assessing one of those sticky plastic feeders, over your thighs. his heart was beating just as quickly, too; you could feel it in his hands as they gripped your hips, anticipating your reservations and pressing his pulse straight into your skin. a rapid thrum contrasted with the precise, intentional bites along the inside of your legs, tongue smoothing over the ridges created by his teeth. every contact was a blaze along the path to your core; your stomach flipped at the sight of him, eyes glazed over, suckling the plush skin of your thigh between his lips. he hooked his nimble fingers around your panties, soaked through, and you felt your thighs squeeze together, hesitantly, suddenly small under his burning gaze and elegant, long fingers.
“relax for me, baby,” euijoo slid his hands back up the length of your body, lightly tugging your shirt back down over your exposed chest, a considerate gesture that made your heart swell to make more room for him. you couldn’t hold back your smile– it hurt to try. it hurt to resist his sweet, attentive personality, how he seemed to know what was bothering you before you did. he pressed a kiss to the space just above the thin fabric that separated you, “let me take care of you, yeah?”
when you nodded, he had already tugged your underwear off and tossed them somewhere unknown. if you had thought ahead, you would have skipped wearing them altogether. you would have just cooked him dinner in nothing but an apron like the plot of a cliche porno. but you assumed his practice would leave him exhausted, that he would have appreciated not having to do anything for the evening but relax while you treated him. instead, he was treating you, fingers opening your folds, undoubtedly glistening beyond any reasonable amount just from his cruel teasing in the kitchen. the cool sensation of his breath urged your hips forward as you rolled them, just slightly, eager for anything he wanted to give you. still, he hovered; the hummingbird and his nectar, and it was so easy to overindulge on something as sweet as you.
the first swipe of his tongue through your heat stopped your breath in your throat, and you could only hold it there as euijoo’s lips enveloped your soaked folds, insatiably slurping and prodding your fluttering entrance. your body was on fire with him, his hands gripping your hips and his hair tickling your thighs; everything was searing red, like he’d turned the kitchen burner up instead of off. the ceiling was spinning, or maybe it was just your head as you covered your face with your hands, biting your arm to hold back the mewls that pushed against your lips, rolling like boiling water. it felt so good, too good and too fast. it was true that time healed all wounds, but time could also create them, wounds that could only be treated with euijoo’s tongue winding devastating, tight circles around your clit. it was a fast, cauterizing healing, burning in your throat. your teeth dug into the flesh of your mouth as you pressed it firmly against your arm.
he angled his head, letting his tongue flit over your sensitive bud as he pulled your hands away from your face and placed them in his hair instead, urging you to use him. he sighed against you as you threaded your fingers over his scalp. “that feel good?” he wrapped his lips over your clit, rolling the bundle of nerves around in all directions, “let me hear you, darling. wanna hear you say it- wanna hear you.”
“f-feels,” you shuddered as he dragged his flattened tongue up the entirety of your aching pussy, a choked sound escaping you, “fuck- feels amazing. missed this, ju.”
“missed you,” he hummed against you, voice rough like crystallized honey as he asked, “can you look at me while i fuck you with my tongue?”
you could certainly try. you couldn’t see much of anything, though, through the tears that picked your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure blazing up your center, through the dizzying, spinning air clouding your brain. and it only got worse as you tipped your head down and met his focused stare, like he was unraveling your thoughts outside of your head. euijoo kept your thighs open for him, but he didn’t hold you down, leaving you to squeeze his head as the pleasure grew too quickly. and it did, over and over, your short breaths and groans clueing him in to slow his tongue, to bring you right to the edge and then bring you back down. the stretch of his muscle inside of you was good but it was nothing compared to the expert roll of the tip of it on your clit, like magic, like he wished on a star and you fell into his lap. you squeezed your eyes shut involuntarily, directly disobeying his request to watch him. it was too much to see his hair glued to his forehead, his cheeks flushed pink and damp with sweat and you.
“i wish you could see how beautiful you look from here,” euijoo said, pulling one of your hands from his hair and squeezing it. you could have said the same thing about him. but you couldn’t say anything, really, with how close your orgasm was. like a roaring, open flame, it flickered in towering licks, painting your vision with streaks of white– a reflection from the sun at its peak and burning just as hot. anything that wasnt his name or some obscenity chanted in a pathetic, weak cry was completely off the table. “i want you to come on my mouth. can you do that for me, my love?”
it was the easiest thing to do, next to loving him. next to ruining your sleep schedule just to spend time with him. next to nearly chopping your finger off preparing ingredients for his favorite meal, only to become his favorite meal instead. it was the third easiest thing to do and becoming increasingly easier as euijoo sucked at every inch of you, humming and burying his face deeper into your cunt with every roll of your hips, chasing that flame, drowning in its shadow until your vision was eclipsed by pleasure. you’d always heard not to stare into an eclipse, and you didn’t have to worry about that as your eyes screwed helplessly shut, spine contorting as your body ached to go limp. euijoo kept his mouth attached to you, hands groping at your thighs as they spasmed around his head, the physical evidence of your body’s aftershocks, muscles twitching endearingly beneath his palms.
your chest heaved, skin sticky as euijoo finally released you from his mouth. the lower half of his face was shimmering like fresh sap, chin dripping with your essence, and the sight sparked another selfish flame in your core despite your pussy still throbbing from your orgasm. you wanted to kiss him, wanted to lick his chin like melting candy, but you were unusually weak. and the room smelled faintly of soured, burnt garlic– the efforts of your expert-level saute cooked to a crisp on the bottom of the good skillet. the heat was too much for your dinner, too. what wasn’t burnt was definitely cold and upsetting, unsalvagable. you wanted euijoo to get on with it, to take his pants off and fuck you dumb so that you could run back out to the store; you needed more vegetables and to carry out at least part of the perfect plans you’d made. but he hadn’t moved from his spot between your legs, still pressing lazy kisses against your thigh and drawing circles on your lower stomach. he admitted once he liked watching the chill bumps rise wherever he touched.
and when he finally stood up, you were more confused than before. because he pulled his phone out and held it up to his ear. a phone call? now?
“what are you doing?” you asked, hushed. he held up one impatient finger before wiping his chin with the back of his hand. you wrapped your hand around his finger, shaking it insistently, “euijoo, who the hell are you calling?”
“you haven’t eaten yet,” euijoo whispered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, angling the phone away from his face as it continued to ring on the other end. he pointed his finger, still encased in your weak but demanding fist, at the device. “ordering.”
and, then, it all became very clear to you– you weren’t going to be able to stand long enough to cook anything tonight.
Synopsis : Asking your sweet boyfriend if you could ride his cock for the first time.
Pairing: bf!Euijoo x fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, cock riding, p in v, unprotected sex (not for you dumbass), dry humping, big dih euijoo, dom!euijoo, sub!reader, MANHANDLING FUCK YEAH, overstimulation, euijoo lowkey a masochist freak
A/N: oh hello there dearest reader. Now you might ask, mona what a lovely surprise that you wrote cock riding for euijoo! like we would never have imagined that you'd write one of your favourite positions for one of your favourite men. And to that my dearest reader I say why of course. of course this is the most self indulgent fic I have written and will ever write in the centuries to come. As always, enjoy, my darlings!
Word Count: 6.4k (i am sane)
Byun Euijoo was the love of your life.
Byun Euijoo was the prettiest man in existence. Byun Euijoo was as beautiful as the poets described inanimate objects to be in their frantic rants on aesthetic crumpled paper. Byun Euijoo was your moon, sun, stars, galaxies and everything in between.
Byun Euijoo was yours and you were his and everything was hunky dory in this simple life.
Anyways let's move on and be on our merry way—
Oh hello there, horniness. Whatever are you doing here?
Yeah.
You wanted to ride Byun Euijoo’s cock till the crack of glorious dawn.
One slight issue, not much of a problem really. How the actual hell were you supposed to ask your sweet tangerine of a boyfriend if you could sit on that beautiful dick that the gods had blessed him with and ride it like a heady stallion? It was in such situations that you realised you should really not let your uterus control your brain.
It wasn't to say you two hadn't ever had sex with each other. Hell, your current beloved was the man who had taken your virginity, wrapped it up in caramel wrappers and kept it all to himself. As he should, if you were being completely frank.
You remembered your first time like it was just yesterday. The heavenly feeling of his slender, skilled fingers entering you first, then that damned tongue of his—you were sure it could have brought Arthur and his round table to their knees had they seen how sharp it spit its pretty words, and it could have brought out Guinevere too, what with the pace at which it moved.
And then he was in you, actually in you, and oh all you could think about was Euijoo, Euijoo, Euijoo. He was the only thing lingering in your mind, the sole thing your mind could even comprehend, as if all coherence was reduced to the tiny space that the letters of his name took up.
And he was so sweet afterwards too, like the meat of a tangerine—shockingly saccharine, akin to the first time you'd ever tasted chocolate as a child. Euijoo had been the perfect boyfriend, the stuff of movies, the person your friends had alleged didn't exist in real life.
He had smoothed his hand over your messy hair, cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you came down from the high of your first orgasm. Then he'd picked you right up in his arms, cradling you to his broad chest and had placed you down in a warm bath which you had no idea when he even had the time to run. And he'd even poured in all of your favourite bath salts! How sweet of him.
Byun Euijoo was the perfect boyfriend.
The only not-too-serious problem was he was so damn gentle with it. It had taken you maybe three days of convincing for him to go even a fraction of a frequency harder. You remembered that night, when your whispered pleas and the press of your hips finally convinced him. In your point of view, it was a goddamn breakthrough.
Even then, your boyfriend was a symphony of care. Every half-harsh thrust, every gasp, was punctuated by a soft question. "Are you okay?” "Does this feel good?" "Tell me if it's too much."
His voice had been a low, tender murmur against your skin, a constant anchor even as pleasure began to build a storm inside you.
And it did feel good. So good that the world narrowed to the points of contact: his lips on your shoulder, his breath in your ear, the deep rhythm he’d finally allowed. It felt like being known, like being cherished and consumed, all at once.
That night planted a seed, a horny demon seed, and now, it’s grown into a full, blooming want. The memory of that controlled power, that restrained strength, has curdled into a delicious, daring thought: You want to steer the ship.
The idea of riding him felt like claiming a new kind of intimacy, not just receiving his care, but meeting it—surrounding it, controlling the pace, watching his pretty face unravel from above. You wanted to see what happens when you set the rhythm. You wanted to see his hands, usually so gentle, maybe clutch at your thighs. You wanted to hear his questions turn into gasps, his careful words dissolve into your name like a sinful prayer.
Hey it was almost like you were reclaiming all that confidence you’d lost in middle school! Yay, you!
But the dilemma was how would you ask him? How would you translate this hungry (carnivorous), bubbling impulse into words your sweet tangerine would understand?
Maybe you could start with your touch—it never failed to unravel him like a spool of wool. A slow evening, his head in your lap, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. You could murmur it into the quiet, a half-suggestion wrapped in a kiss: ‘Euijoo… I had a thought. Something I want to try with you.’
Or perhaps you use the memory itself—the way he was grunting about how tight you’d felt when he was buried to the hilt. ‘Remember when you went harder? Felt so good, Ju. Can we try that again tonight?’
You imagined his reaction, a slight pause, the way his beautiful eyes would focus, deep and thoughtful. He might blink, then a soft smile would touch his lips. He’d say ‘are you sure, love?’ and you’d whisper your ‘yes, please’ and then he’d cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.
He'd say, ‘Okay,’ in that voice that always felt like a promise. Then he'd lie back and watch you, his gaze full of that same tender awe, but now mixed with a new, surrendering heat. He’d be your anchor again, but this time, you’d be the wave.
So, how would you ask? With words? With touches? With a look?
“CanIpleaserideyourcock.”
Or yeah you could just do that. Say your words as fast as you could and make Euijoo look down at you with that expression that you could never read.
The movie was a soft murmur in the background, some romantic comedy neither of you were really watching. His arm was draped around your shoulders, your head tucked perfectly into the crook of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent.
He’d just brought your hand up, his lips brushing a feather-light kiss over your knuckles, a habit so ingrained it was like a second heartbeat. And that’s when your gaze drifted.
His black compression shirt (why did the handsome bastard have to wear it on the one day you were a raging horny demon) clung to him like a second skin, tracing the plains of his chest, the subtle shift of muscle in his arm. Below, the soft grey sweatpants were a study in casual, devastating temptation, hinting at the line of his thighs, at the relaxed, heavy drape of the fabric between them. A contrast to your own outfit—just his oversized shirt and a pair of panties, feeling both protected and perilously exposed.
Your mind didn't just wander, oh it fucking sprinted, replaying the heat of his skin, the weight of him, the way his control had felt like both a sanctuary and a cage you suddenly wanted to rattle. The thought was a drumbeat, synchronizing with your pulse: ride him, ride him, ride him.
You must have tensed, or let out a tiny, trapped sound, because his fingers stilled on your hand. "Hmm?" he hummed, the vibration gentle against your temple. "What's wrong, love?"
His voice, always so tender, was your undoing. The question, the sweet concern, was the final crack in the dam. He was being so careful and gentle and all you could think of was his cock buried deep as fuck in you. The words, marinated in want and a frantic lack of filter, tumbled out in a single, breathless, jumbled rush.
"CanIpleaserideyourcock."
Silence.
Not the empty silence of the paused movie, but a thick, profound, living silence that swallowed the room whole. The only sound was the frantic thud of your own heart in your ears.
Slowly, so slowly, you felt him shift, his arm slipping from your shoulders. You couldn't bring yourself to look up, your face burning with a heat that could power a small city. You stared rigidly at a loose thread on the knee of his sweatpants.
Then, a finger hooked gently under your chin, tilting your face up.
You were met with the look. His beautiful eyes were wide, pupils dark and blown, but his expression was utterly, mystifyingly unreadable. It wasn't shock, exactly and it wasn't disapproval.
It was a deep, intense focus, as if he was translating a complex and fascinating new language—the language of your blunt, desperate hunger. His lips were slightly parted, and a soft, curious smile played on them. He just looked at you, he looked at you for so long that you thought you might dissolve into the couch cushions.
Finally, his thumb stroked over the apple of your burning cheek. His voice, when it came, was low, a little rough, and laced with that same unreadable awe.
“What was that, my love?
The sound of his voice, so gentle, sent a fresh wave of fire over your skin. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone completely dry. You managed a tiny, shaky breath.
Euijoo didn’t rush you. His thumb continued its slow, maddening stroke on your cheek, his gaze never leaving yours. It was like he was waiting for a precious secret, giving you all the time in the world to form the words properly, even though you’d already thrown them at him in a chaotic heap.
Gathering every ounce of courage left in your trembling body, you forced your lips to move. This time, you tried to pace it, to give each word its own weight, though they still came out as a hushed, pleading whisper.
“I said…..can I… please…..ride your cock?”
There it was, out in the open like a wild cat. Just a full, coherent sentence hanging in the air between you. You cringed as you said each word.
The look on his face shifted, softening at the edges, that curious smile blooming into something warmer. He leaned in, until his forehead was almost touching yours, his breath a warm caress against your lips.
“Love….” He murmured, the words vibrating with a low, appreciative hum. “You do realise what you’re asking?”
You merely hummed, suddenly having lost the microns of confidence you’d had five minutes ago. God he looked so beautiful, there wasn't any word in the lexicons of all the languages you knew to properly describe him. Those eyes, those lips, that skin—what sort of Homer or Sappho were you to depict him in a way that did justice?
“Baby.” Your boyfriend pulled back just enough to see your whole face, his eyes tracing your features as if memorizing this moment, “Tell me properly.”
His words were a tantalizing invitation, a request to step into your own desire, fully and without shame. You took a shaky breath, the air feeling thin and electric.
“Well, you know how we’ve been having sex lately…”“Uh huhh…”
“And you know how we usually only fuck….normally.” Well that was certainly one way to describe it.
“And you know how I really, really love you.”
“I really, really love you too, angel.” God he was so fucking sweet, even while you were being the most awkward deer in headlights.
“Do you not like it, angel?” Euijoo said, his expression a beautiful conflict of awe and concern, “Do you not feel good?
The concern in his voice, so genuine and immediate, shattered the last of your awkwardness. It was so him—to hear your clumsy phrasing and instantly worry he hadn’t been enough.
“No! God no, Euijoo, that’s not it at all,” you rushed out, your hands coming up to frame his face, forcing him to see the truth in your eyes. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. It’s just….”
“Just what, my love?” Euijoo asked and you took another breath. You could do this; for him, you could find the words.
“Well, I love how you take care of me. You make me feel so good, always.” You bit your lip, searching for the right way to explain the hunger that felt both foreign and fundamental, “I just want to try something new, you know? I want to make you feel good. Your voice gained a sliver of strength, fueled by the honesty in his eyes. “Please, Ju?”
You watched his beautiful face process them, his eyes darkening, his lips parting slightly on a soft, indrawn breath. The awe was still there, but his concern had been utterly transformed into a kind of captivated shock.
“Oh….” he breathed, the single syllable loaded with a universe of understanding. His hands, which had been resting lightly on your waist, tightened their grip almost imperceptibly.
“I mean you don’t have to if you’re not comfortable.” You laughed awkwardly, averting your eyes away from his gaze, “I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea I just—”
Euijoo closed the small distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was devastatingly soft—a promise, a taste, a silent conversation. When he broke away, his lips lingered a hair’s breadth from yours.
“It’s not stupid.” Your beloved murmured, the words a warm sigh against your mouth. His hands slid from your face to your shoulders, a gentle weight, “I just don't want you getting hurt, my love.”
Now let us pause for a second, dearest reader.
Byun Euijoo was yours and you were his.
And my, was he a liar, liar, liar.
Pretty liar, though.
Euijoo had the face and demeanour of a complete angel. His friends and family knew him to be nothing more than the sweet, kind boy with infinite patience. The epitome of a soft spring, as his girlfriend had dubbed him.
But oh god if only you knew about him when the lights went off. Oh if only you knew about all the times he’d wrapped your panties around his dick and imagined it was your warm heat wrapped around him instead. Of course, he’d never force any of his fantasies onto you. He’d never want you to get hurt because of you, his pretty baby to cherish.
Euijoo had thought it had been enough—the first time you two had made love to each other. The dulcet tone of your soft mewls and moans had him going so fucking crazy. The way you’d whined his name when he entered you, he could feel himself grow even harder in you, which he didn't even know was possible. The way you looked up at him with cartoonishly dazed eyes, at the verge of going cross eyed, even though he’d been so goddamn gentle, the combination of it all had been busting maybe fifteen more times.
And the day you’d asked him to go harder? Oh that had been Armageddon.
And now here you were, all pretty and soft and doe-eyed. And oh you were even climbing onto his lap now. How amazing for his poor dick.
Shifting forward on the couch, you placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle of them through the thin shirt. Ignoring his gentle hold, you swung one leg, then the other, over his lap, settling yourself firmly astride his thighs. The new position, the feel of him solid beneath you, the way his breath hitched—it was intoxicating. You looked down at him, at his parted lips and wide, surprised eyes.
“It’ll be good.” You said, your own voice gaining a sure note you didn’t know you possessed. “It will be good because it’s you and it’s me, and we both love each other very much and I really, really, need you right now.”
It would be the last day on earth for Euijoo’s mental stability.
You saw the moment he surrendered. The concern in his eyes was eclipsed by a dawning, deep-seated heat. A slow, breathless chuckle escaped him, a sound of pure wonder and capitulation. His hands, which had been resting on your shoulders, slid down your back, coming to rest on your hips.
“Okay,” he breathed, the word a sacred pact. His head fell back against the couch cushions, his gaze locking with yours, full of that tender awe and now, a complete, open surrender, “Okay, my sweet girl.”
A slow, breathtaking smile spread across his face. It wasn’t his usual gentle smile. This was something new—something edged with a thrilling, surrendered heat. He leaned in, until his nose brushed yours.
“But,” He whispered, his voice a low vibration that went straight to your core, “you have to promise that you won't force yourself for my sake, hmm?”
“I won’t.” You said, jokingly holding up your pinky, “I promise.”
Euijoo took it anyway, intertwining it in his, and bringing your hands up to his lips again to kiss your knuckles. What a gentleman.
The heat of his body seeped through his pants, and you could already feel the growing hardness of his cock pressing against your core as you settled. Euijoo exhaled sharply, hands now coming to rest on your waist, gripping just firm enough.
“Well, if you’re sure, angel.” His reluctance melted under your gaze, that secret excitement bubbling beneath his sweet boy facade. He pulled you closer, lips crashing into yours in a deep, hungry kiss.
Your mouths moved together, tongues sliding and teasing, the kiss turning messy and heated. You rocked your hips experimentally, grinding down against the bulge in his sweatpants, the friction sending sparks through you. A soft moan escaped you into his mouth, and Euijoo groaned in response, his fingers digging into your sides as he kissed you harder.
You picked up a rhythm, rolling your hips forward and back, pressing your clothed heat against his cock with each pass. The barrier between you only heightened the tease, the pressure building deliciously without any real relief. His hands slid up your back, one tangling in your hair to tilt your head, deepening the kiss as his tongue danced into your mouth in time with your movements.
Euijoo's breaths came in pants, his secret thrill making his grip possessive. He loved this—your eagerness, the way your body moved for him, so desperate. And he revelled in the fact that it was because of him. He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against yours.
“Mmmh…..” Euijoo groaned softly against your lips, voice rougher now, his control slipping just a fraction, “So pretty, my love.”
He bucked up subtly, meeting your grinds, the outline of his cock rubbing right against your clit through your panties. You whimpered, nipping at his lower lip, your hands clutching his shoulders as you humped him faster, chasing that building ache.
“Let’s go somewhere else, hmm?”
Before you could protest, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you effortlessly off the couch. You clung to him, legs wrapping around his hips as he carried you toward the bedroom, your heart racing with anticipation.
He carried you as if you weighed nothing, your bodies pressed together in a seamless, heated line. The journey to the bedroom felt both eternal and instantaneous, a blur of hallway shadows and the soft, grounding sound of Euijoo’s breathing against your neck.
When he reached the bed, your beloved lowered you with a reverence that stole your breath, following you down so his body covered yours, caging you in warmth and strength.
For a moment, he just looked at you, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you beneath him—hair fanned out, lips kiss-swollen, chest rising and falling with the same ragged rhythm as his own. His thumb traced your lower lip.
“You’re sure, angel?” Euijoo murmured, with a kiss to your cheek that made you smile, “Like, one hundred sure?”
You shifted atop the bed, heart thumping as you moved to straddle Euijoo's hips once more, the mattress dipping under your combined weight. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, but he kept his hands at his sides, palms flat against the sheets, giving you the space to lead. You could feel the hard heat of him through the thin fabric of his sweatpants, a direct line to your own aching core.
You smiled up at him, “Yes, Ju, I’m sure.”
“Alright then.” He said, pressing a final kiss to the tip of your nose, before rolling to the side, lying back against the pillows, his gaze fixed on you with raw anticipation. The trust in his expression was absolute; he was handing you the reins, fully surrendering himself to your desire.
Your fingers trembled slightly as you gripped the hem of your shirt—borrowed from him—and pulled it up over your head, letting it fall to the floor. Cool air kissed your bare skin, you felt exposed, vulnerable, but the way his breath hitched made heat pool in your core.
Next, you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your thighs and off, kicking them aside. Now fully naked, you sat there for a beat, feeling his hardness twitch against your bare pussy through his sweatpants. Euijoo's jaw clenched, his chest rising faster.
“God, angel, you're so fucking beautiful like this…..” he murmured, voice low and rough, but he didn't move, honoring your turn to take charge.
Emboldened by his words, you reached for the edge of his shirt, tugging it upward. He lifted his arms to help, peeling it off and tossing it away, revealing the lean muscles of his torso.
Your hands moved to his sweatpants, fingers dipping under the elastic to grasp the base of his cock briefly before you pushed the fabric down. He lifted his hips, letting you slide them off along with his boxers, his thick cock coming free, hard and veined, the tip red hot. The first touch of bare skin to skin was electric, a sharp, shared gasp filling the room.
You paused, staring at it, the sheer size making your throat dry. As it always did when you had sex with him. Yeah you were (sort of) used to the size by now, but oh the feeling of him splitting you open like a walnut? You could never get used to it, even if you got married and had twins with him. But that’s a fantasy for another day.
Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him slowly from base to tip, feeling him throb under your touch. The skin was hot, velvet over steel, and you marveled at how your fingers barely met around his girth.
“Shit…” A low groan escaped Euijoo's lips, his head falling back against the pillows. “Nghh—keep doing that, my love…good girl.”
Internally, his mind raced—your sudden boldness, the way you handled him so tentatively yet purposefully, it ignited that side of him no one would ever see, making his cock ache even more. He wanted to flip you over, pin you down, and drive his cock into you, but he held back, savoring your initiative like ice cream on a summer Sunday afternoon.
You stroked him a few more times, thumb swirling over the head to spread the precum, before positioning yourself. Lifting your hips, you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance, the blunt head nudging against your slick folds.
Well here went all your sanity down a hole.
You remembered the first time you thought ‘oh I’m kinda in love with this guy’. It was a Saturday morning, and as all Saturdays are—romantically lethargic—you’d gotten up at 11 am, to the smell of toast and the outline in the bed where your lover should have been.
You’d found him in the kitchen, a kiss the cook apron wrapped round his waist (you happily obliged the instruction later), the tip of his tongue stuck out and his brows furrowed in concentration as he peeled a pomegranate for you.
His fingers, oh those slender fingers that always knew juuust where to touch and fiddle to have you squirting around them. They were dyed faintly red now, presumably from a few accidental squeezes of the seeds.
Euijoo didn’t even notice you saunter up to the counter, merely picking up another pomegranate and splitting it open and ohhhh
Oh he was splitting you so fucking open.
What the fuck were you even thinking about right now? What was there even left to think about as you sliiidd down on his length, evoking emotions in your head that you were sure only the heavens themselves could explain properly.
A gasp tore from your throat, turning into a moan as the burn hit—he was so much thicker than you'd remembered from the times when your back would be comfy against the mattress and your body shadowed by his broader frame, filling you in a way that made your walls clench instinctively.
“Oh—nghhh Euijoo!” You whimpered, pausing with just the head inside, your body trembling. How the fuck was he this big?
Euijoo chuckled softly, the sound warm and affectionate, though his eyes burned with restrained hunger. His hands stayed down, fingers curling into the sheets.
“Easy, my love. You’re doing so well.” He said soothingly, “Breathe, baby—just try again hm?” His voice was soft and encouraging, but inside? Inside he was on fucking fire, the sight of you struggling to fit him was driving him wild, like a wolf to some stray deer in the forest.
You nodded, biting your lip, and tried again, lowering yourself further. The stretch intensified, his cock pushing past the initial resistance, and tears pricked at your eyes. He felt huge, splitting you open, and you'd only had him in one position before, where he controlled the depth. Now, it was all you, and the fullness made you cry out, a sob mixing with your moan as you hovered at just a couple inches in.
“Hah—c-can’t!” You whined, tears spilling over, your hands pressing against his chest for balance, “Too big Ju, I can’t—hmmm….”
Euijoo's chuckle deepened, still gentle, but his cock pulsed inside you, betraying his arousal. He would have been a liar if he said this wasn't the prettiest you’d ever looked, tears like the finishing touches of paint on the masterpiece of your cheeks.
“Shh my love.” Euijoo consoled you, “My brave girl, so perfect for me. Keep going angel, you can do it.” He didn't touch you, letting you fight through it, though every fiber of him screamed to thrust up and bury himself deep as deep could be humanly defined.
Wiping at your tears, you took a shaky breath and sank lower, inch by glorious and oh fucking hell did you mean glorious inch, until you had him halfway in. Your pussy fluttered around him, stretched to its limit, and you panted heavily, sweat beading on your skin.
“Euijoooo…” You pouted down at him, “Help me—hahhh—feel so full…..” You sounded so pathetic, so needy, so damn ready to give up every last bit of your sanity just to make it fit.
It was borderline insane how much you had his composure unravelling so beautifully. Just one word out from the pretty little mouth of yours in that pretty little tone and Euijoo was a gone man. Please, you’d said, his pretty angel asking him so politely. Now who was he to refuse?
“Oh?” Euijoo said softly, tilting his head, “I thought you wanted to do it on your own, angel.”
“Can’t…” You whined in anguish, “Can’t do it Ju….need your help, please?”
“Mmhh,” He hummed, pretending to think, “You sure you don’t wanna try on your own, my love?”
You shook your head frantically. He moved a little as he chuckled and you were like a volcano just ready to erupt. His voice was so soft in your ears, his tone so concerned for you and oh your boyfriend was so pretty and his dick was so good, and you were quite honestly about to die.
“Please, Ju?” You moaned, rocking slightly to ease the pressure, but it only made you feel him more, “Please—just need it in….I promise I’ll do everything—-ah hahhhh—everything else…”
That was his breaking point. ‘Everything else’, oh weren’t you just fucking sugary sweet? Euijoo's hands shot to your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with a firm grip.
“Alright, my love.” Euijoo chuckled low, as if he was amused by the gravity of the situation, “Let’s settle you in, hmm?”
In one swift motion, he yanked you down fully, his cock slamming home where it always belonged, bottoming out inside your tight heat.
The sudden fullness overwhelmed you—every thick inch sheathed to the hilt, pressing against your goddamn cervix—and your body shattered.
A sharp cry escaped as your orgasm crashed over you, pussy clenching rhythmically around him, waves of pleasure ripping through your core. You came hard just from being filled completely, juices soaking his base as you shuddered atop him.
“Already, my love?” Euijoo held you firmly through it all, those beautiful seconds in utmost heaven. He groaned as he felt you clamp down, holding you seated on his cock, feeling your walls milk him. His eyes darkened with possession, he was so thrilled at how easily you'd knotted out for him.
Your body trembled in the aftershocks of that first orgasm, pussy still spasming around Euijoo's cock as he held you impaled on him, his grip on your hips unyielding but gentle. The fullness was intoxicating, every ridge and vein of him pressed deep inside, making your walls flutter with residual pleasure. You caught your breath, tears drying on your cheeks, and met his gaze—those dark eyes smoldering with a mix of tenderness and raw hunger.
“Good girl.” Euijoo whispered, his thumbs stroking circles over your hipbones, “You took me so well, angel. Now go on—make yourself feel good.”
His voice was soft, coaxing, but the way his dick twitched inside you betrayed how desperately he craved this, reveling in your submission to the act.
You nodded, a shy smile breaking through as you braced your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart under your palms. Lifting your hips experimentally, you rose until just the tip remained inside, then sank back down slowly, an obnoxiously loud moan spilling from your lips at the draaaag of his thickness through your sensitive folds. It wasn't as overwhelming now—the stretch familiarizing itself—but the friction sent sparks up your spine.
It was different from anything before. This was your rhythm, your pace. And you had no idea what to do with this new found power. Maybe get drunk off of it?
“Oh….Ju….” You breathed, starting a tentative rhythm, rising and falling with shallow bounces.
Your thighs burned already from the effort, but the pleasure built quickly, your clit grinding against his pubic bone with each descent. You picked up speed, hips rolling in a circle at the bottom, chasing that building heat like a fairy starved of magic dust.
His head tipped back against the pillows, tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief. His breaths became ragged prayers, your name mixed with broken curses and pleas.
"So good…..fuck, just like that…..my love, my perfect girl..."
Watching him come apart was the most potent aphrodisiac. His usual gentle control was gone, replaced by a raw, desperate vulnerability. You leaned forward, and the change in angle drew a sharp cry from him, his eyes flying open to lock with yours. In their dark depths, you saw it all: awe, adoration, and a surrender so complete it stole your breath.
Euijoo groaned low in his throat, head tipping back as he watched you through half-lidded eyes. “Fuck, yes—ohh nghh—fuck angel, you’re so—ohhh—so fucking perfect.”
He kept his hands light on your hips, guiding without forcing, letting you set the pace. Internally, his blood roared; your boldness, the way your soft moans and whines of his name came, the slick sounds of your pussy swallowing him—it was driving him fucking insane. Euijoo was aching to wreck you.
“Does it feel good?” You asked, voice breathy, leaning forward slightly to kiss his jaw. “Am I……am I doing it right?” You rode him harder, breaths coming in pants, the room filling with the wet slap of skin and your shared moans.
“More than right, my love.” Euijoo rasped, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb flicking your nipple, “Keep going angel, don’t stop.”
His praise spurred you on, and you ground down deeper, faster, wilder, the coil in your belly tightening again. But your legs quivered, muscles fatiguing from the unpracticed motion. You hadn't anticipated how tired you’d get after just a few minutes. How the hell did he do this every other day for you?
After a few more determined thrusts, exhaustion hit like a wave. Your rhythm faltered, hips stuttering as you slumped forward, forehead pressing against his chest, gasping for air.
“Ju…I can’t—too much…” You whimpered, still clenching around him, but your body refused to lift anymore. The fullness kept you on edge, pleasure teetering but not quite tipping over.
“Aww my poor baby—tired alright?” Euijoo's chuckle was dark, affectionate, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close. “You’ve been so good for me, my love.” He kissed the top of your head, but his hips shifted beneath you, a subtle flex of his abs. “Just hold on tight for me, yeah?”
Before you could respond, he planted his feet on the mattress and thrust up sharply, his cock driving deep into your core.
The sudden jolt made you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as he set a brutal pace, bucking up into you with controlled power. Each upward snap, snap, snap, filled you completely, his tip battering that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyes.
“Fuck—take it for me, my love.” Euijoo’s voice dropped to that arousing timbre he rarely let slip, hands clamping on your ass like magnets to iron to spread you wider for his thrusts. “Hmm—feel that baby? Does that feel good?”
You could only moan incoherently, body rocking with his movements, pussy stretched and pounded relentlessly. Forget stars, you could see the andromeda galaxy behind your eyelids as they snapped shut to focus on this delicious, delicious experience.
“Euijoo—oh god, yes! Harder, please!” The words tumbled out, desperate, as he railed into you, the bed creaking under the force.
His control was slipping, unleashed in the way he angled his hips to grind against your clit with every plunge, sweat dripping down his temple.
"Look at you," he whispered, "Look at what you do to me, you beautiful girl."
His hips began to meet yours in a stuttering rhythm. The force of his thrusts, combined with your grinding pace, pushed you both swiftly toward the edge. The world narrowed to the shared gasps for air and the blinding point of friction where your bodies joined.
You could feel your climax building like a tidal wave, the pleasure threatening to consume you whole as a lover consumes the seeds of a pomegranate. Euijoo's thrusts grew more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, punctuated by your moans and Euijoo's grunts of exertion.
"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," Euijoo moaned, his hips snapping in a particularly hard thrust. “Hmm my pretty angel—gonna make you cum aaall over my cock. You want that? Say it.”
"Euijoo!" You cried out, your back arching. “Yes—please, Ju, make me cum!” You begged, tears of overstimulation pricking your eyes again, the pleasure coiling unbearably tight.
"Cum for me, my love," Euijoo commanded, his voice rough with his own impending release. "Good girl ohhhh fuckkk—thaaat’s it, my love.”
His words pushed you over, and your orgasm shattered, juices soaking the sheets beneath. Your pussy clamped down on Euijoo's cock, milking him for all he was worth.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Euijoo groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge. "Yes baby, nghhh…..."
He came with a broken shout, his body arching off the bed as he spilled deep inside you. The feeling of him pulsing within you, so utterly lost to pleasure, triggered your second climax. You wailed his name, body seizing in ecstasy, riding the waves as kept fucking you through it, prolonging the bliss until you were a trembling, boneless mess slumped against him once more.
For long minutes, the only sound was your labored breathing slowly returning to normal. Euijoo’s strong arms, still trembling with the aftershocks of his own release, wrapped around you completely. He gathered you against him, turning you gently onto your side so he could press your back flush against his chest. Every inch of his skin was warm and damp, a perfect mirror to your own.
Euijoo nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his breath a soft, calming tide against your sensitive skin. His lips found your temple, pressing a kiss there that was so tender it made your heart ache. Then another on your cheekbone, another just below your ear—a soft, worshipful trail.
“Shhh, my love,” he whispered, his voice a raw, husky rasp that vibrated through you. One hand splayed possessively over your stomach, holding you close, while the other came up to gently brush the sweat-damp hair from your forehead. “My perfect, perfect angel. You were so good. So brave for me.”
He pressed another lingering kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve got you. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”
Slowly, carefully, he shifted. His softening cock slipped from your body with a soft, intimate sound, making you both shudder with a final, gentle aftershock. He didn’t let go for a second. He simply adjusted his hold, rolling you both just enough so you were nestled side-by-side on the messy sheets, facing each other.
His eyes, dark and soft and full of a love so profound it stole your breath, searched yours. His thumb traced the apple of your cheek, wiping away a stray tear of overwhelm.
“Rest now, my love.” Your beloved breathed, “I love you so so much, yeah?” Euijoo leaned in to capture your lips in a chaste kiss—soft and endlessly sweet.
Byun Euijoo was the love of your life.
Byun Euijoo was yours and you were his and everything was hunky dory in this crazy life.
And all that was left was to giddy up!
fin.
A/N: if it wasn't obvious enough, hi i am in love with this man. the day a euijoo giddy up edit comes on my fyp is the day my grave shall be filled. Remember when i said Killshot Baby was my favourite child amongst my fics? Yeah i think giddy up has taken her spot now!
divider by @bonnieknowsbest
&team taglist: @eu1joo @kwnnies @nichozzystuffs @blueuijoo @pglpblm @ikigaijo @leehancore @dearvampyr @riri4andy @tokunodoll @sunsoomi @makizdoll + Shoot me an ask or comment to be added!
i'm only jealous 'cause you're mine - nakakita yuma
pairing: bf!yuma x afab!reader
genre: established relationship, jealousy, smut(mdni), angst (?)
warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, swearing, arguing, slight angst, cheating accusations, slightly toxic relationship (?), slight physical aggression (specifically pushing and a slap), angry sex, possessive sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl!), exhibitionism(?), yuma is a huge tease, dom!yuma, oral (f recieving), photos during sex, breeding kink (?), creampie, overstimulation - let me know if i missed any!
disclaimers: purely fictional!! all parties are consenting!! not proof read!!
synopsis: yumas jealousy gets the best of him after you and nicholas were too close for his liking
word count: 4k
You were spending a few nights with the members out of the city during their well-deserved break, the company paying for a holiday house hidden away from the public eye.
The house was huge, allowing every member to have their own room, multiple bathrooms on each floor, a huge shared living space and kitchen, as well as an outdoor entertainment area with a pool, barbecue, and a huge grassed area.
At first, you questioned whether you should be in attendance, claiming that you didn't want to impose on the boys' rest time, but Yuma assured you they wanted you there, even calling them in the group chat to get the boys to tell you themselves. They enthusiastically persuaded you to come on the holiday, claiming they needed someone to rein Yuma in when he got too rowdy, and that you were part of the family anyway.
So here you were, day 2 of the holiday, sunbaking in your bikini while most of the boys spent their time in the pool. You watched in amusement as they tackled each other both in the pool and into the pool, eyes locking with a wet Yuma leaning against the pool's edge. His wet hair was pushed back, held in place by his sunglasses, water dripping down his face and onto his toned chest. He sent a wink your way before turning his attention to a not-so-sneaky Harua trying to jump on him in the pool. A laugh escaped your lips, which didn't go unnoticed by an emerging Nicholas, pulling himself out of the pool.
"Are you laughing at Harua trying to sneak up on the members?" He laughed, taking a seat on the pool chair next to yours, putting his arm behind his head to look at you while you conversed.
"Oh, absolutely, he's really trying to take them by surprise, but failing miserably," you giggled, still watching the scene in front of you.
Nicholas laughed with you, making it sound like the funniest thing in the world as he ran his free hand through his wet hair.
The enthusiastic sound of Nicholas' laugh caught Yuma's attention, his eyes wandering to where you and Nicholas were spread out on your pool chairs. His jaw tightened slightly at the sight of your shared laughs, but Yuma brushed it off, knowing he had the tendency to get jealous over small things.
However, as time went by, his eyes never left you two for long. He watched as you both continued to laugh and talk together; Nicholas leaning over to whisper something in your ear that must have been incredibly funny, given your reaction. Your hand found his bicep as you hunched over in laughter, tightening your grip to hold it for support. Yuma watched his friend's eyes quietly linger over your body as you leaned slightly closer to him, a slight blush evident on the tips of his ears at the close proximity you now had. Yuma's jaw clenched even tighter, grinding his teeth slightly at the gnawing feeling in his chest.
You and Nicholas were oblivious to the storm you were creating in Yuma's chest, continuing your conversation as the other members started climbing out of the pool. Yuma didn't bother with pleasantries as he approached, planting himself on your pool chair, right in the middle of your conversation with Nicholas, wetting you both in the process.
"Yuma! You got me wet!" You pouted, not really caring, but also not liking the chill that followed after the wind now.
"Sorry baby," he purred, glancing at you over his shoulder, a slight smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes at him with a smile on your face, before climbing off the pool chair to stand in front of both Yuma and Nicholas.
"Alright boys, let's go inside with everyone else," you spoke, clasping your hands together. Yuma's eyes weren't on you, but on his friend across from him, who was staring up at you like you held the moon in your hands (or so it seemed to Yuma).
As you made your way inside, everyone else was already claiming their spot in the living area, "Yuma, get us a spot please? I'm just going to head upstairs and get changed," You sent him a smile as you spoke, watching him nod in response. Without a second thought, you made your way upstairs to your shared room with Yuma.
In the room, you opened your suitcase to find some comfortable clothes to lounge around in with the boys. As you were searching for something to wear, you heard the bedroom door click closed and felt two arms snake around your waist before you could react, causing you to freeze out of shock.
"Yuma," you breathed out, "You scared me baby." You relaxed in his hold as he squeezed you tighter. "What are you doing up here?"
His hands fell to your hips, spinning you around to face him; his hair was dry now, but he was still shirtless in only his bathing shorts, sunglasses nowhere to be found. He stared into your eyes for half a second before his gaze fell to your lips, staying there for a beat longer than usual before a sigh escaped his lips.
"Yuma?" You questioned again, pressing your forehead to his to draw a response from him. His grip on your hips tightened, his gaze back on yours as his eyes darkened, moving his forehead away from yours to look down at you.
"What was all that with Nicholas?" He asked, venom seeping into his words. You tilted your head in confusion, holding his stare as you tried to process what he was asking you.
"What?" Is all you managed to get out, utterly confused at the boy's question. He rolled his eyes at you, hands dropping from your hips as one rested on his own, the other running through his hair.
"Don't play dumb, Y/N," he practically growled, holding your gaze more intensely, "You and Nicholas were having a great time on your own."
"You mean, we had a great time... talking?" You questioned, not sure what had made him so frustrated, or mad, or upset - honestly,y you weren't sure what he was feeling at this point.
"Talking? Is that what we're calling it now?" He laughed, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief. Now you were getting frustrated at your boyfriend, confused as to why he was mad that you got along with his members.
"Are you fucking kidding me Yuma?," you spat, losing your patience all too quickly at his ridiculous attitude, "You're mad that I actually get along with your members? Is that what this is?"
"I'm not mad you get along with my members," he laughed mockingly, "I'm mad you decided to flirt with one of them right in front of me," he stepped closer to you, towering over you as he continued with an accusatory tone, "If you wanted to cheat on me you could have atleast done it out of my fucking view."
You shoved his chest to get him away from you, his brow ticking at the force, "Fuck you Yuma," you spat, trying to push past him and leave the room. Yuma grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to stand in front of him, his grip not wavering, while your free hand tried to pull his away.
"What? You're just gonna leave?" He spat, voice getting louder as his anger became more intense, "Not going to try and prove me wrong?" he continued, his intense glare feeling heavy on your own. When you didn't answer him, he let out a single laugh, "Oh, I know! You're going to go to Nicholas, aren't you?"
That's when your hand met his cheek, a loud echo bouncing off the walls, and a slight red mark appearing where your hand just was. You both stood frozen for a moment, unfamiliar with this current situation; you and Yuma had never argued like this before.
Before you could react, apologise, check if he was okay, his lips were on yours in a hungry kiss. Hands flying to the sides of your face to hold you still. Your mouth opened in shock, a gasp escaping as his tongue slipped its way inside, pulling another sound from your throat. You stood in shock, before melting under the heat of his lips, the way his tongue instantly dominated your mouth, the way his grip on your face was strong but not painful. Your hands flew around his neck, pulling him closer to you as he walked you backwards.
The back of your knees hit the bed first, one of Yuma's hands moving to cradle your head as your back hit the mattress. His lips never left yours, stealing your breath as he continued his assault on your mouth.
His lips found their way down your neck, nibbling and sucking until he pulled a moan from your lips. His hands were everywhere, grabbing and squeezing every inch of you like he was scared he would forget how you felt.
As his lips made their way closer to your chest, he pulled your bikini strap through his teeth, letting it flick onto your skin, earning a hiss from you. His eyes met yours, dark and blown out, consumed with hunger and lust.
Yuma smirked at your already disheveled state, "Do you think Nicholas could make you feel like this?" he purred, his finger tracing the marks he left on your neck, "Do you think he could..." his voice trailed as his fingers travelled lower before lightly wiping over your already soaked bikini bottoms, "...make you this wet, this quickly?"
You moaned, hips bucking up into his hand to try and chase some sort of pressure, but Yuma removed his fingers quickly, holding his gaze and smirk. "Come on princess, answer me."
"N-no," you stuterred, hands still looped around his neck, finding their way into his hair, "D-don't care about him, only you." You gently pulled on his strands, a groan leaving his mouth. His lips crashed back into yours, while one hand yanked your bikini top off in one movement.
You gasped in shock again, Yuma using the opportunity to slide his tongue back inside as his hand found its way to one of your nipples. You moaned as he began teasing it, such a different comparison to the heated kiss; His finger moved slowly, feather-light touches brushing over your sensitive nipple, while his mouth consumed you in a feverish hunger.
His mouth moved south again, but he didn't waste time in capturing your other nipple between his teeth, a light squeeze dragging a groan from your chest. You arched into his touch, chasing his warmth and pressure.
Yuma's mouth and hands were in sync; as his mouth sucked one nipple, his fingers pulled on the other, as his tongue flicked, so did his fingers. Your hands pulled tighter at his hair, wanting more from the hungry man on top of you.
"Something you want baby?" He chuckled, face hovering above yours once again. You could only nod, lost in the intensity of Yuma's gaze. "Words. Good girls use their words." He whispered next to your ear, mouth ghosting over one of his earlier marks.
You shuddered at the feeling of his breath so close to you, "Want more," you breathed out.
Yuma let out a breathy chuckle, hands now trailing over your body with a light touch, almost ticklish. "Baby, come on now..." he started, eyes roaming yours as a hand came to your jaw, a strong grip forcing you to maintain eye contact, "...you need to use your words better. I still don't know what you want."
You shuddered again, lost under the control Yuma had over you during these moments, "I-I want you to touch me Yuma, please." You almost cried out, eyes opening in shock when you realised how loud you were getting.
Yuma just smirked at you, "Uh-huh... but where?" he feigned confusion and innocence, "I don't know where you want me to touch you." A fake pout fell on his lips as you squirmed beneath him.
"M-my pussy..." you whispered, trying to avoid his gaze.
"Hmm? What was that? I can't hear you?"
"My pussy Yuma, please!" You practically yelled, overcome by the need to be touched by your teasing boyfriend.
"That's right baby, be loud," he chuckled, a hand slowly moving its way down your side, "Let them hear you, let Nicholas hear you."
Yuma made his way to your pulsing core, hands slowly caressing your sides. He kissed lower and lower, from your chest, to your stomach, until he reached the band of your bikini bottoms, but instead of giving you what you wanted, his lips moved to your inner thighs.
Feather-light kisses covered your thighs, strong hands holding your hips to stop your squirming, "It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want," he breathed, whispering into your thigh, "When I'm ready."
You groaned in frustration, wanting nothing more than to feel some release from your pent-up desires. "Please, Yuma, please, please, pleas- ah!" Without warning, you felt a slap against your core, a surprised moan escaping you.
"Stop being impatient," Yuma growled, before he gripped your bikini bottoms with his teeth. He slowly pulled them down, looking into your eyes until they were off your legs. Pulling them out of his mouth, he turned them inside out, before showing you your own wetness, "Look at that baby, look at how wet I make you."
A deep blush spread across your face at the sight of your own slick covering your bikini, Yuma smirking once again at your embarrassment. He hummed in satisfaction before bringing the panties to his mouth, his tongue pocking out in a small kitten lick. His eyes rolled back at the slight taste of your arousal, "Fuck baby, can't wait to taste you properly."
Yuma dived between your legs, disregarding your bikini on the floor. His breath fanned over your dripping folds, sending shivers up your spine. His arms wrapped around the top of your legs, holding you in place, before you felt the brush of his nose against your core. A small moan escaped you, anticipating the relief you've been waiting for.
Yuma didn't waste any more time, no more teasing, as his tongue went flat against your core, dragging from top to bottom. A guttural moan erupted from your chest, hands flying back to his hair. Yuma growled at the feeling of you pulling on his strands, encouraging him to keep up his wild assault on your core.
You tried to grind against his face, chasing more pressure, but he held a strong grip on you, keeping your hips pinned to the mattress. Yuma sucked on your clit, not letting up no matter how hard you pulled at his hair - he knew you liked the intense pleasure, the overstimulation, because you were his.
You were so lost in the feeling of his mouth ravaging your pussy, you didn't notice that one of his hands left your hip until a finger pushed straight through your entrance. You almost screamed from the pleasure, the sudden intrusion feeling heavenly and painful all at the same time. Yuma moaned against you, loving the reactions you gave him.
"Fuck, Yuma," You moaned, slightly grinding into his face now that his grip has loosened.
"That's right, baby, say my name," he breathed out, poking his head out slightly to look at you, the bottom of his face covered in your slick. You groaned at the sight, your juices dripping from his lips and chin, his flushed face, confident smirk, and messy hair pushing you further over the edge. "Let them know who's making you feel this good." He growled before dipping back down to continue his feast on your pussy.
You moaned louder, your care for what the other boys could hear completely gone from your mind. "Yuma.. Fuck... It's so fucking good," you moaned, grinding against his face more.
You felt another finger push its way inside you, his mouth never stopping. His pace was unrelenting, fingers thrusting into you, curling at the right spots to bring primal sounds from your chest.
You could feel your high approaching, the coil in your stomach tightening at the wild pace Yuma had set. "Mmm, gonna cum," you gasped, moans filling the space of the room.
"Gonna cum for me baby? Cum all over my face?" Yuma murmured against your core. It sent you over the edge, your high crashing down in extreme force. Your walls clenched around Yuma's fingers, almost preventing him from continuing his movements, a loud moan of his name filled the room, and escaped under the door.
Yuma worked you through your high, letting you squeeze your thighs around his head and moaning at the feeling. He licked up all your juices, savouring the taste before pulling away to get a good look at you.
"Fuck, look at you baby," a hand ran through his hair as he took you in, the other sliding out of your entrance, as he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck them dry. Your walls clenched around nothing at the sight of him. "You look so fucking hot right now, all fucked out underneath me. Can I take a picture, baby? Hmm? You'll let right?" He babbled, unable to control his desires.
You dumbly nodded, too lost in the afterglow of your orgasm, as Yuma pulled his phone from his pocket. A huge grin spread across his face as the flash went off on his phone. "Fuck..." he groaned, taking in the picture on his screen before tossing his phone to the side.
Before you could register it, Yuma had stripped himself of his bottoms and underwear, and was climbing over your fucked out frame. "Not done yet baby, need to fill you up." He murmured, grabbing his cock and stroking it a few times.
You looked down at his already hard member, its red, leaking tip, loving the way his brows furrowed as he stroked himself. "Spread your legs," he demanded.
You immediately opened your legs for him, Yuma holding the base of his cock, while his other hand was by your head, holding himself up. He positioned himself against your core, but didn't push himself in yet; instead, he slapped his tip against your already sensitive clit.
You jolted at the sudden contact, a whine slipping through your lips. Yuma just smirked as he started rubbing himself through your folds, collecting up all the slick his mouth missed just earlier.
He teased your entrance with his tip, poking at it slightly before pulling away and rubbing through your folds again. You groaned every time he didn't push into you, grabbing onto his shoulders in frustration, "Please, Yuma, don't wanna wait."
Before you could beg again, Yuma's hips slammed into yours, a loud gasp falling from your lips, as a groan fell from his. "Fuck," he moaned out, feeling your walls clenching and sucking him in, "Already trying to milk me, huh?"
You couldn't respond, too busy reveling in the sudden stretch, the fullness of his member inside you. Yuma pulled out before slamming back in again, setting a relentless speed from the start. The force and speed of his thrust caused the bed to creak, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room alongside both your moans and groans.
Your nails dug into his shoulders, and your walls clenched tighter around him, dragging a guttural groan from his chest. You moaned at the feeling of his member assaulting your pussy, and the sounds escaping his lips.
Yuma grabbed your thighs, pressing them to your chest, now thrusting at a deeper angle, earning an almost scream to leave your throat. "Feel good baby?" he moaned, pace never faltering. You could only nod, words unable to form, your mind only focused on your primal desires.
"You're mine," he panted, eyes moving between where you were connected, and holding your gaze, "Only mine, no one else's." You nodded, moans falling from your lips, unable to control them, "Say it," he spat. "I-I'm yours! I'm Yuma's, only Yuma's," you stuttered, tears threatening to spill from your eyes at the build of your second high.
Your walls clenched impossibly tighter around him, dragging another primal groan to come out of his mouth, "You gonna cum soon baby?" he panted, eyes locked on yours. "G-gonna cum, mhm" you nodded, not sure if you were making sense anymore. "Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock."
Your second release hit hard, body twitching and spasming as you almost screamed Yuma's name. Walls clenching so tightly around his member that his pace faltered. Tears spilled down your face at the intense pleasure washing over your body, and the overstimulation of Yuma still pounding into your pussy.
You shook beneath him from pleasure, too fucked out to ask him to slow down as he chased his own release, "Gonna cum in you baby, fill up your pretty pussy, claim you as mine." Yuma babbled loudly as his release caught up to him. One, two, three thrust until he stilled inside you, a loud moaning filling the room, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls. You whined at the feeling, loving the way his cum felt inside you.
Yuma almost collapsed on top of you from the intensity of his orgasm, breathing heavily as he lay on top of you. Your hands found their way into his hair, playing with the strands as you both came down. He hummed at the sensation once his senses came down, slowly lifting himself up to peer down at you.
The darkness in his eyes had faded, now filled with pure love and adoration. Your fingers stayed loosely in his hair, as one of his hands found its way to your face, thumb caressing your jaw. Neither of you spoke, just taking in each other's presence.
"You okay?" he whispered, breaking the silence, eyes searching yours.
"Mhm," you nodded, offering a tired smile, "I'm okay."
He nodded at you, rolling to the side and dragging you on top of him. You perched on his chest, now smirking at his disheveled state. He groaned at the look on your face, "Don't give me that look."
"What look?" you questioned, trying not to laugh.
"That look!" He gestured to you, sighing as his head hit the pillow. You climbed off his chest and moved to his side, head resting on the pillow with him. He pouted at you before speaking, "I only get jealous 'cause you're mine."
"I didn't say anything." You laughed, hand finding the side of his face to push the loose strands of hair back.
"But you wanted to!" He protested.
"I'm not going to complain if you getting jealous leads to sex like this," you sighed contentedly, earning an eyebrow raise from your boyfriend and a cocky smirk to fall across his features before you continued, "Maybe I should start making you jealous on purpose."
"Hey, no!" he whined, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, "Don't do that, that's just mean." You giggled in his arms, not needing to respond.
You felt yourself dozing off until Yuma started moving his hands on the bed behind you, searching for something. "What are you doing?"
He grunted, mumbling in your ear, "Looking for my phone, wanna see the picture." You laughed at his perverted ways, not leaving his chest as he fumbled around you to get his phone.
"Ah, shit..." he sighed, staring at his screen, before looking down at you, "We're in trouble."
"Huh?" you questioned, not sure what he was talking about. He turned his phone to show you the screen, one new message appearing.
K: What the FUCK was that?
authors note: i love yuma so much send help, that boy DEFINITELY has a jealous streak
got carried away again, but uh, let me know what you think! (can you tell i like writing jealousy scenarios)
【 18+ 】 tw ──── soft dom!harua . . reader is ovulating n desperate, creampie, unprotected sex, a bit of degradation?, praise kink, p in v, oral ( m rec ), breeding kink, reader calls harua ru and rua, use of the word cunny, kissing, petnames. 1931 wc don't copy/translate my work. i only write on tumblr.
harua can’t help the soft little laugh that escapes him every time he turns around and finds you right there again.
you’ve been following him around like a needy little shadow, trailing after him like a lost puppy wherever he goes. always hovering.
from the kitchen (where you kept pressing up against his back while he tried to make a sandwich, to the living room (where you kept crawling into his lap the second he sat down), and now back to your shared bedroom.. your eyes burning into him the whole time.
harua can’t help the soft little laugh that escapes him every time he turns around and finds you right there again.
you’ve been following him around like a needy little shadow, trailing after him like a lost puppy wherever he goes. always hovering.
from the kitchen (where you kept pressing up against his back while he tried to make a sandwich), to the living room (where you kept crawling into his lap the second he sat down), and now back to your shared bedroom.. your eyes burning into him the whole time.
eyes glued to the way his sweats hang low on his hips, showing off that pretty tummy of his—smooth skin, soft definition of his abs and that delicious v line that dips down towards his cock. every time he stretches or even turns, the waist band of his sweats shift a little lower, teasing you with the shadow of his happy trail, and just below the faint outline of his length.
“ruaaaa..” you softly whine, face scrunched up into annoyance. voice breathy and desperate as you follow him into the bedroom. every few steps your hand reaches out instinctively, fingers brushing against his back, his arm, the front of his pants, like you physically can’t stop yourself from touching him
“why are you whining, again? hm?” your boyfriend tilts his head curiously, voice low and gentle. “is it that time again?”
you nod, pouting. fingers brushing under his shirt. tracing the faint outline of his abs. hands dipping dangerously lower to graze the perfectly groomed trail to his cock.
“every room i go into, there you are…does my needy baby need my cock in her mouth?”
you nod frantically this time, already dropping onto your knees without being asked to. hands already tugging at the waist band of his sweats to shove them down–just enough to free his cock—already half hard, the flushed tip leaking precum.
“look at you…” harua breathes, letting out a small laugh. his fingers moving to your hair as you lean in and begin pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along his lower abs, lips lingering lower and lower like you’re worshiping him. “can’t even let me walk across the house without trailing after me so you can suck me off, so cute.”
you whine against his skin, licking a slow stripe from his hip bone down toward the base of his cock before wrapping your lips around the head, mouthing at the hardening length. harua hisses softly, hips twitching forward as you take him full into your mouth, your hands gripping his thighs, thumbs stroking those same pretty lines you couldn’t stop staring at. you look up at him with greedy desperate eyes—lashes already wet as you let his cock hit the back of your throat, cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide around his member as you suck eagerly. the way you look causes harua’s breath to hitch, fingers tightening in your hair. god he loves when you are like this.
you moan loudly around his length, eyes rolling back. the taste of his salty warm precum causing you to drip more. the vibration makes his hips twitch forward involuntarily. your tongue swirls greedily under the head every time you pull back, lapping up the steady leak of precum like you’re addicted to his taste. spit is already dripping down your chin, coating his balls, making everything messy and wet.
“nghh, fuck—baby… mm love when your ovulating. Love when you're so needy, so hungry. god, i bet your cute pussy is absolutely soaked right now—“
you let out a pathetic whimper around him, nodding as best you can with his cock down your throat, eyes watering but never breaking eye contact. the truth is you’re aching so badly between your legs that it almost hurts; so empty and pulsing, your womb literally feeling like it’s dying with the need to be filled.
harua suddenly pulls you off his cock with a wet pop, a thick string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to the glistening tip. you whine pitifully at the loss, trying to chase it with your mouth, but he holds your face steady. his pretty hands cupping your flushed cheeks.
“come on, pretty girl. lets give you what you really need. yea?” he soothes, voice gentle even as his eyes begin to darken with the same need that consumes you. he wipes the spit from your chin with his thumb before pulling you up to your feet.
you obey instantly, eagerly tugging down your shorts and panties in one go before practically falling onto the bed, the soft sheets feel so cool against your burning skin.
the sight of you like this—flushed, desperate, completely bare and dripping makes his cock twitch against his stomach. a bead of precum leaking out. your folds puffy and swollen, glistening with that extra thick, slippery arousal that only comes during the days when your body craves to be filled to the brim with seed. your clit is no different, puffy and peeking out, begging for attention, and he can see the way your entrance flutters open and closed like it’s aching to be filled.
he wastes no time, kicking his sweats off completely and climbing onto the bed, crawling over you until his body cages yours in.“such a good girl…you didn’t even wait for me to tell you to spread your legs. you really are that needy~”
you reach up for him with shaky hands, fingers grabbing at his hoodie to pull him closer. “ruaa—please… i need you inside me so bad. it hurts nghh—“ you whimper
he leans down and places a soft kiss to your lips before diving in to kiss you deeply. its slow and sweet at first, then hungrier as your tongues meet. one of his hands slides between your bodies, two thin fingers gliding through your soaked slit.
“gotta prep you a bit, angel.” he murmurs against your lips, but you are quick to protest.
you shake your head frantically against his mouth, a desperate whine slipping out between kisses.
“nooooo—no prepping, ru please,” you beg, voice cracking with need. your hips roll up desperately, trying to chase his fingers even as you push his hand away. “i don’t need it—i’m already so wet... it hurts, baby—“ you gasp “just put it in—i can take it, i promise. i need you now.”
harua pulls back just enough to look at you, an amused smirk tugging at his lips even as his cock twitches hard against your thigh.
“mmph, baby… listen to you,” he breathes, voice low and husky. pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips before pulling away to continue. “—so greedy you won’t even let me warm you up. you’re really this desperate, huh? pretty little cunny is so needy”
you let out a whine at the dirty words spilling from his mouth. harua was only really like this when you were ovulating. that rare filthy edge slipping out when your ovulation turned you into this needy and desperate, submissive mess.
you nod quickly, legs spreading wider beneath him, hands fisting tighter in his hoodie as you try to pull him down.
“please m’ so empty…want your cock…i need you to fill me up all the way—“ harua groans softly at your words, clearly affected by how shameless you are right now. he shifts his hips, letting the leaking head of his cock slide through your drenched folds, coating himself in your slick.
with one smooth, firm thrust he pushes inside of you—burying every inch in a single stroke until his hips are flush against your ass and the head of his cock is kissing your softened cervix. it causes a loud moan to rip from both of you the same time.
“ah— fuck—” harua hisses through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering shut for a second. “so fucking wet… and tight. gripping me so much..”
you cry out in pure relief, back arching sharply off the bed as the overwhelming fullness finally soothes some of that deep, gnawing ache inside you. but your body still craves more. your legs immediately wrap around his waist, heels digging into his lower back to keep him pressed deep.
“oh god— yes fuck, ru.. cunny’s aching so bad…i need you to fill me up, breed me deep…” you admit breathlessly, voice small and shaky with need.
harua’s hips stutter for a second at your words, a low, broken groan rumbling in his chest before he picks up the pace, hips snapping harder, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust while his pelvis grinds against your swollen clit. tugging your legs up so that your knees press against your swollen nipples.
he leans down and pulls you into a messy kiss, swallowing your moans as his pace turns relentless. his free hand slides between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen, hypersensitive clit and rubbing firm circles. the other hand fumbling around until it finally reaches your hand, holding it gently in his—it's a soft reminder of the love you two share amongst the needy desperation that has consumed you both in this moment.
the overwhelming stimulation fuels your dazed desperate state. babbling now, your voice breaks with every deep thrust , “rua!— ahh— yes, right there— breed me, please—nnghhh been following you around all day because i need this… need you to fill me full of your cum so bad… make my belly full…”
his breath hitches at your words, he begins to fuck you harder, deeper—hips snapping faster, the head of his cock kissing your cervix over and over like he’s trying to push straight into your womb.
“gonna give it to you, angel—promise,” he pants, voice sweet and filthy at the same time. “gonna fill this greedy, pussy until you’re dripping my cum for hours. my sweet girl. every time you get needy again, just tell me and—i’ll just bend you over wherever we are and pump another load deep inside you. gotta make sure my girl is full.”
his words cause your orgasm to hit you, it crashes over you—violent and overwhelming, your walls clamping down around him like a vice as you gush around his cock, crying out his name in a broken sob.
the intense fluttering and milking sensation pulls harua right over the edge with you. “fuck!— baby, nghh…i’m cumming—” he buries himself as deep as he can go and lets out a mix of a groan and whine. thick, hot ropes of cum pulse straight against your cervix, flooding your depths. he keeps grinding slow and deep through both your orgasms, making sure every drop stays pressed right where your body needs it most.
when the waves finally start to ease, harua collapses half on top of you, still buried to the hilt, arms wrapping around your trembling body as he presses soft kisses to your sweaty forehead and cheeks. you look at him, taking in his pretty flushed face. short black hair sticking to his forehead. although your body aches, you still reach out to move the hair from his face.
“thank god you are on birth control. i think i would’ve definitely gotten you pregnant by now..” he lets out a gentle laugh, voice falling back into that gentle tone you adore. eyes crinkling up as he smiles. “you did so good, i’ll keep taking care of every single ache this week.” he leans down and kisses you tenderly, slow and sweet.
A/N: Based on this ask I got...I def had to make a fic for it...enjoy loves!
Synopsis: Harua may look small in comparison to his friends, but don’t let his height fool you; he’s hiding something from everyone…so during a game of truth or dare with your friends, Harua shows you that sometimes big things come in small packages…
Fic under cut >>>>>>
You were sitting in a circle with your friends playing a drunken game of truth or dare when it was your turn. “Y/N, truth or dare?” Nicho asked as everyone looked at you, wondering what you were gonna pick. You thought about your answer for about 5 seconds before deciding truth because, after witnessing Fuma’s dare to give K a lap dance, you wanted to play it safe. “Boo, you’re no fun!” Nicho said pouting, his face flushed from the alcohol. You just shrugged, sticking your tongue out at him, which caused him to gasp dramatically. “Fine, you big baby…who out of everyone sitting here do you think has the smallest dick and why do you think that?” Nicholas asked, smirking smugly at your gasp of surprise. Everyone else just snickered but watched you carefully to see who you’d pick.
“Uhh, I love you, Harua…but I’m gonna have to pick you because I mean…look how tiny you are compared to everyone else…I’m not saying you’re small necessarily, but you’re def the smallest here…” You rambled nervously, looking at everyone but him. Harua just snickered darkly, which caught your attention, causing you to look up into his eyes, which had an intense dark glint to them. You froze at his odd demeanor, expecting him to be offended, but he didn’t seem that way at all…he almost seemed smug? The guys thought your answer was the funniest thing in the world and couldn’t contain their laughter, all of them agreeing with you. Eventually, everyone got back to the game, but you could feel Harua’s intense gaze on you the whole time, making you nervous that he was genuinely upset. You’d have to ask him about it later.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick, guys, continue without me.” You announced, getting up to go to the bathroom to get away from Harua’s continuous dark looks. As you were done washing your hands in cold water to calm down, you heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was one of the guys, needing to pee from drinking too much, you hurried and opened the door, but what you didn’t expect was for Harua to push the door open, shove you in, and lock the door, the lock clicking in place. “H-Harua..?” You stammered out in confusion. He just stared at you with that same dark expression he’s had ever since those words you now regret saying. He stalked towards you, causing you to walk backwards until your back hit the sink. His whole intense presence makes you feel small compared to him, which was laughable considering what you said not 15 minutes ago. You couldn’t help but feel aroused at how he was acting if you were being honest, too.
Harua grabbed you by your waist and lifted you carefully, placing you on the sink, leaving you speechless at the sheer strength he just displayed to you. This whole situation was blowing your mind if you were being honest. He just smirked a your expression of awe.
“Small?” Harua finally spoke, his voice surprisingly low. You just stared at him with your eyes comically wide, trying to process the situation at hand. Just as you finally gained the strength (and courage) to speak, Harua cut you off with a scoff and grabbed your hand and brought it down to the front of his pants where you could feel not only how hard he was, but how big he was… You gasped at how big he felt even through his pants, and you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together, which didn’t go unnoticed by the man. He smiled cockily at you before he pulled his hand away from your wrist and began to undo the strings of his sweats, and then pushed his pants down to his knees to reveal himself fully. You felt lightheaded as you took in the sight of him. Not only was he thick as hell, but long too, with a slight curve…and you knew right then that you needed him inside you right now.
“Harua…” You whispered out needily. He just cooed mockingly at you before pushing your skirt up to reveal your soaked-through light pink panties that were sticking to your folds from how embarrassingly wet you were. Harua brought two of his slender fingers down to your covered core and rubbed you through the ruined cotton. “Ru…please…I need you right now…” You whined out. He looked up into your eyes before nodding his head. He slid your panties down your legs, pocketing them, and then pulled you closer to the edge of the sink. Harua then brought his thick tip to your entrance and swiped it through your folds to coat himself in your slick before pushing it inside, causing you to moan out at the feeling of him stretching you so deliciously. Harua, without giving you time to react, suddenly pushed all the way in until he reached the base of his cock, causing you to scream out at the sudden intrusion. It felt as if he was gonna split you in half if you weren’t careful.
“F-fuck Ru! S-slow down!” You whined out from the fast pace Harua was now thrusting into you. He just scoffed at your words and sped up.
“I thought I was small? Hm? Surely you can take me.” Harua said smugly, watching as your eyes rolled back and your whines grew both in intensity and loudness. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Moan for me, let them all hear how much you love my small dick.” Harua growled in your ear, biting the edge of it, his thrusts turning harsher. You couldn’t keep your noises down even if you wanted to, feeling yourself being brought to the edge embarrassingly fast.
“H-Harua! I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum! Please!” You scream out in warning to the man who was grunting in pleasure from how tight you were around him. Haura continued his pace, all while bringing his fingers down to rub at your clit at the same time to get you to your orgasm. You could feel fireworks explode behind your eyes as you shut them from the intensity of your high, hitting you like a train. You screamed out Harua’s name as you came around his cock, gushing all around him. This caused Harua to groan and reach his high, shooting his hot, thick release inside you, painting your walls white. Haura pulled out of you carefully and cleaned you up with a towel he found lying around, tossing the dirtied fabric in the hamper before smoothing your hair down so you looked at least semi-presentable.
As you both made your way back to your circle of friends, they all just stared at you with mixed looks of disgust and amusement on their faces. Maki was the first to speak up.
“So uh, what the helly, guys?” Maki asked, his face twisted in disgust. Harua and you just burst out laughing at his reaction.
“To be fair…Harua ambushed me to prove a point. Which, by the way, I take back what I said earlier…” You said, winking at Harua, to which he just snorted and shook his head. The guys just groaned in disgust before announcing that the next round was about to start…
A/N: Based on this ask I got...I def had to make a fic for it...enjoy loves!
Synopsis: Harua may look small in comparison to his friends, but don’t let his height fool you; he’s hiding something from everyone…so during a game of truth or dare with your friends, Harua shows you that sometimes big things come in small packages…
Fic under cut >>>>>>
You were sitting in a circle with your friends playing a drunken game of truth or dare when it was your turn. “Y/N, truth or dare?” Nicho asked as everyone looked at you, wondering what you were gonna pick. You thought about your answer for about 5 seconds before deciding truth because, after witnessing Fuma’s dare to give K a lap dance, you wanted to play it safe. “Boo, you’re no fun!” Nicho said pouting, his face flushed from the alcohol. You just shrugged, sticking your tongue out at him, which caused him to gasp dramatically. “Fine, you big baby…who out of everyone sitting here do you think has the smallest dick and why do you think that?” Nicholas asked, smirking smugly at your gasp of surprise. Everyone else just snickered but watched you carefully to see who you’d pick.
“Uhh, I love you, Harua…but I’m gonna have to pick you because I mean…look how tiny you are compared to everyone else…I’m not saying you’re small necessarily, but you’re def the smallest here…” You rambled nervously, looking at everyone but him. Harua just snickered darkly, which caught your attention, causing you to look up into his eyes, which had an intense dark glint to them. You froze at his odd demeanor, expecting him to be offended, but he didn’t seem that way at all…he almost seemed smug? The guys thought your answer was the funniest thing in the world and couldn’t contain their laughter, all of them agreeing with you. Eventually, everyone got back to the game, but you could feel Harua’s intense gaze on you the whole time, making you nervous that he was genuinely upset. You’d have to ask him about it later.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick, guys, continue without me.” You announced, getting up to go to the bathroom to get away from Harua’s continuous dark looks. As you were done washing your hands in cold water to calm down, you heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was one of the guys, needing to pee from drinking too much, you hurried and opened the door, but what you didn’t expect was for Harua to push the door open, shove you in, and lock the door, the lock clicking in place. “H-Harua..?” You stammered out in confusion. He just stared at you with that same dark expression he’s had ever since those words you now regret saying. He stalked towards you, causing you to walk backwards until your back hit the sink. His whole intense presence makes you feel small compared to him, which was laughable considering what you said not 15 minutes ago. You couldn’t help but feel aroused at how he was acting if you were being honest, too.
Harua grabbed you by your waist and lifted you carefully, placing you on the sink, leaving you speechless at the sheer strength he just displayed to you. This whole situation was blowing your mind if you were being honest. He just smirked a your expression of awe.
“Small?” Harua finally spoke, his voice surprisingly low. You just stared at him with your eyes comically wide, trying to process the situation at hand. Just as you finally gained the strength (and courage) to speak, Harua cut you off with a scoff and grabbed your hand and brought it down to the front of his pants where you could feel not only how hard he was, but how big he was… You gasped at how big he felt even through his pants, and you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together, which didn’t go unnoticed by the man. He smiled cockily at you before he pulled his hand away from your wrist and began to undo the strings of his sweats, and then pushed his pants down to his knees to reveal himself fully. You felt lightheaded as you took in the sight of him. Not only was he thick as hell, but long too, with a slight curve…and you knew right then that you needed him inside you right now.
“Harua…” You whispered out needily. He just cooed mockingly at you before pushing your skirt up to reveal your soaked-through light pink panties that were sticking to your folds from how embarrassingly wet you were. Harua brought two of his slender fingers down to your covered core and rubbed you through the ruined cotton. “Ru…please…I need you right now…” You whined out. He looked up into your eyes before nodding his head. He slid your panties down your legs, pocketing them, and then pulled you closer to the edge of the sink. Harua then brought his thick tip to your entrance and swiped it through your folds to coat himself in your slick before pushing it inside, causing you to moan out at the feeling of him stretching you so deliciously. Harua, without giving you time to react, suddenly pushed all the way in until he reached the base of his cock, causing you to scream out at the sudden intrusion. It felt as if he was gonna split you in half if you weren’t careful.
“F-fuck Ru! S-slow down!” You whined out from the fast pace Harua was now thrusting into you. He just scoffed at your words and sped up.
“I thought I was small? Hm? Surely you can take me.” Harua said smugly, watching as your eyes rolled back and your whines grew both in intensity and loudness. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Moan for me, let them all hear how much you love my small dick.” Harua growled in your ear, biting the edge of it, his thrusts turning harsher. You couldn’t keep your noises down even if you wanted to, feeling yourself being brought to the edge embarrassingly fast.
“H-Harua! I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum! Please!” You scream out in warning to the man who was grunting in pleasure from how tight you were around him. Haura continued his pace, all while bringing his fingers down to rub at your clit at the same time to get you to your orgasm. You could feel fireworks explode behind your eyes as you shut them from the intensity of your high, hitting you like a train. You screamed out Harua’s name as you came around his cock, gushing all around him. This caused Harua to groan and reach his high, shooting his hot, thick release inside you, painting your walls white. Haura pulled out of you carefully and cleaned you up with a towel he found lying around, tossing the dirtied fabric in the hamper before smoothing your hair down so you looked at least semi-presentable.
As you both made your way back to your circle of friends, they all just stared at you with mixed looks of disgust and amusement on their faces. Maki was the first to speak up.
“So uh, what the helly, guys?” Maki asked, his face twisted in disgust. Harua and you just burst out laughing at his reaction.
“To be fair…Harua ambushed me to prove a point. Which, by the way, I take back what I said earlier…” You said, winking at Harua, to which he just snorted and shook his head. The guys just groaned in disgust before announcing that the next round was about to start…
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