welcome 2 my blog ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
18+ (mdni pls!)
hei ! she / her / 18
recs r open! asks always open :3
very very normal abt maki !!!
sharing my fav (mostly nsfw) fics + talking abt my favs + writing a bit
abt me + rules ୨୧ &team recs
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ my works
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@artmsdoll
welcome 2 my blog ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
18+ (mdni pls!)
hei ! she / her / 18
recs r open! asks always open :3
very very normal abt maki !!!
sharing my fav (mostly nsfw) fics + talking abt my favs + writing a bit
abt me + rules ୨୧ &team recs
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ my works
a little rant about AI that i just want to get off my chest lol
i've spent some time experimenting with AI and the extent of its ability to mimic human writing because i wanted to see what i have to avoid so as to not come off sounding like AI. it gets pretty fucking good and close, i'll tell you that, but there's always a tell.
AI loves using nonsensical metaphors in an attempt to evoke imagery but it ultimately fails. if you're a seasoned writer or at least an experienced reader, you'll be able to identify these easily. this deep dive on "shy girl" by mia ballard details it so much better and might help train your eye to these.
another tell is this persistent, annoying narrative structure. "not _____. not ______. just ______." it's so painfully obvious when writers on here use AI because this always gives it away.
and i'm not saying you can't use this kind of repetition in your writing if this is your preferred style; people have used it before hence why AI takes it and regurgitates it for whoever asks for it. i'm just saying that we need to be more discerning about "writers" who let AI do their work for them. let's not let slop overtake this space too.
coming on here to say CAN WE PLLSSSSSSS stop using ai to write fics…. like the whole point is to be creative, if u can’t write for a certain prompt, just don’t do it. i’m tired of thinking im gonna read peak and its chatgpt slop
&team in bed (18+)
word count: 1k
warnings: just some quick, smutty headcanons. not proofread. mentions of oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, praise kink, mommy kink, size kink, degradation, reader has a vulva in some parts. this post includes maki, don’t like don’t read.
this is pure fiction for entertainment purposes only. minors do not interact.
k
he just wants to make it feel good for you. what’s his favorite position? doesn’t matter as long as it gets you off and he can get his hands all over you. it could be him having you in missionary, you riding him in cowgirl or whenever he’s giving you backshots, yudai is gonna find that spot that makes you keen and hit it over and over again until you’re shaking for him. maybe it’s his ego, maybe it’s love, but he needs you to feel safe and relaxed and euphoric with him and everytime you moan his name he knows he’s succeeded again.
date night
dom! Nicholas x sub!f reader | nsfw (mdni) | wc; 3.2k
desc: You and Nicholas go on a date after a long time of not seeing each other. When your night winds down he shows you how much he's missed you.
⚠️ contents: fluff to smut, public/car sex, unprotected sex (stay safe irl!), blowjob, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, choking, head pushing, idol nicholas, finishing inside, didn't proofread this sorry for errors if any !! (let me know if i missed anything)
guys tmi i just had the best sex dream of my whole life with jungwon of all people?? 10/10 would recommend
brother’s best friends w/ pervy nichojoo!
pair. stoner!nicholas + tutor!euijoo x fem!reader; wc. 1,219
tw/cw. nsfw content, cursing, rambling so no proper grammar or spelling, w some stupid ass memes; race neutral reader, nicho’s has weed obviously, corruption, virgin!reader, drugging, (extreme) branding; juju’s has panty kink, unprotected sex mention/breeding, obsession, reader is also lwk a freak; overall they’re both like genuine perverts so read at will!!!!
note. my brain turned off for like 10 minutes and u get this guys this is what cock does to you smh anyways i have teamie brainrot rn they became my ults a week ago out of nowhere BUT! i can't get over nichojoo brother's best friend(s) it makes my brain melt of how insane they'd be. stoner/perv!nicho and tutor/perv!juju has my fucking heart
the stoner nico agenda is my most favourite ever guys
are we all on the euijoo pill rn cause…..
on&on.
pair. bsf!euijoo x fem!reader; wc. 2,562
tw/cw. nsfw content, cursing, intentional lowercase, not proofread; teasing dom!euijoo, sub!reader, race neutral reader, i am the biggest euijoo “good guy act” enthusiast (after nicho), sexual tension, praise, finger sucking, stripping, begging, fingering, kissing, unprotected sex, creampie, use of “good girl,” and “angel”
synopsis. as euijoo’s best friend, you know he’s not the “good guy” people think he is. so when you keep teasing him, he’s gonna show you what it actually feels like to go on&on with unbearable teasing— only this time, sexually.
guys my pants just flew off or smt THIS IS TOO GOOD
off script, just for tonight ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
a euijoo fic (with a bit of smau) in which u two are mcs together and a trip to paris is the final straw to you two making a move on eachother
content : NSFW writing abt euijoo, (if that makes u uncomfortable pls dni) 15% smau 85% just writing (i got lazy sorry..) soft dom!juju x sub!fem reader (this doesn't rly affect the dynamic much, he's just on top lol), hickeys, unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap!!!!), swearing
wc : 3100 (+200 in posts/texts)
a/n : i'm back😛 this is my first time putting a little smau in my writing so if its ass im sorry... also also i'll get to ppls recs now!! oh also also pls ignore how the flannels in the pictures don’t match #itried
you and euijoo had been mcs for music bank together for almost a year. you even got a contract renewal since fans loved you two so much. you were not complaining though, he was the best partner you could’ve asked for. however, as much as you wanted to stay professional and not let your relationship pass the very close coworkers stage, he made it a little hard…
first of all, you felt super comfortable with him. your chemistry was great, and you always felt like you two could joke around with each other. he was also just perfect, everything from his personality, to his height, to his annoyingly pretty face was to die for. you also couldn't help noticing how fondly he looked at you, his eyes always finding you in the mirror when you were getting your makeup done. but you couldn't blame him, cause you did the same. how he would gently rub your hands or your back when you were nervous backstage. or that time you were exhausted in between schedules and fell asleep on his shoulder, yet he didn't move a muscle until you woke up so you wouldn't be embarrassed. he did such a good job at not waking you up that you didn’t even know this happened until you saw the picture on the official music bank account.
you had to keep reminding yourself that he was just a genuinely kind person and he was probably just very well trained for fan service. besides, he was way too professional to try and pull a stunt like flirting with his mcing partner, especially when all the staff from both your companies were around.
you two recently got the news that you would be flying out to paris to mc music bank over there. as a little bonus, since both of your schedules had been so full for the last few months, your companies even agreed to let you travel a bit before the actual event so you two could enjoy some time off in the city. your company had been getting lots of backlash lately for overworking you, so this was the least they could do.
it was finally departure day and after some mandatory sasaeng airport photos, you two were off.
you passed out the second you got in your seat, you didn't even bother to grab your blanket or pillow. when you woke up from your nap, groggy and eyes getting adjusted to the dim cabin lights, you realized you were wrapped in a blanket, topped with euijoo’s flannel on your shoulders. you turned towards him only to see that he was the one that was fast asleep now, head tilted toward you, lips parted slightly, and breathing slowly.
the flannel still smelled faintly of cedar and bergamot and him. you couldn't stop yourself and your heart did a little something in your chest. he must’ve noticed your state and covered you up before passing out himself.
you couldn't help but take a 0.5 photo of him sleeping while you pointed at him and sent it to him.
you also took a pictureof yourself and posted it, forgetting that you had euijoo’s flannel wrapped around you… you went back to sleep, unaware of the chaos you just started online.
when you woke up and checked your phone, the realization hit. euijoo was also awake now and you turned to him, a little scared but also finding the situation kinda funny.
“thanks for your flannel… but i fear i may have fumbled a bit…” you mumbled.
“what did you do? as long as you didn’t drool all over it or stain it, it can’t be that bad.” he answered, teasing you.
you sheepishly showed him your phone with the post on it.
“oh that's no problem, you know how my company is with damage control. we’ll be fine,” he reassured you. “and so what if people think we're together, that just means we’ll get more business trip offers!”
not long after, you landed in paris with a beautiful view of the sunset. however, with a popular duo also comes fans waiting for you as soon as you passed customs. as the security guards struggled to surround you two from the mob, you felt a firm hand on your back guiding you gently through the crowd and a whisper in your ear: “you good?” you sneakily nodded yes.
you two finally made it out to your ride to your hotel. unfortunately, since the company sent you two out early, they also sent you with all of the big bags containing makeup, outfits, and props to make sure they were in paris on time for the event. this left you two crammed in the back of the car with bags to your side and no room to move. your thighs and shoulders were pushed next to each other, which wasn't technically weird or anything, but you felt your cheeks flushing a bit. the silence filled with something unspoken that you refused to acknowledge, as you’d be sure to be fired or at least scolded if these feelings kept going where you feared they might.
when you made it to the hotel, you both made your way to your rooms, with euijoo making sure you got inside your room safely and wishing you a good night before going to his.
it was the next morning. you felt like you just had the best sleep of your life. you and euijoo agreed to meet up at 10am the night prior, so you got all dolled up as soon as you were up. you planned to wear this cute dress since the weather was amazing, but there was one problem that you forgot about, it was lowkey impossible to do up on your own and there were no staff here yet to help. you were left with no other choice.
seconds later, you heard footsteps rushing to your door and multiple frantic knocks. you struggled to open the door and hold the back of your dress to avoid flashing the whole hallway.
“you okay?? what happened?” he asked, breathless.
“i just… can't tie this up on my own,” you said, a little embarrassed at the scene you caused.
“oh?” he giggled a bit. “you scared me!”
he stepped closer to you, very close, with one hand settling on your waist and the other zipping it up. his fingers brushed up your spine, and while this was again, something pretty normal, you felt your heart beating faster.
“all done.. are we good to go?” but you still felt him behind you.
you both just kinda stood there, that unspoken tension still there. you managed to let out a “yeah, thanks so much!”
you two spent the day exploring some cafes, the eiffel tower, and every tourist attraction that was on your path, vlogging and taking the iconic “boyfriend/girlfriend” photos everywhere. after what felt like endless kilometers of walking, you made it back to the hotel and you both decided to wind down at the pool. it was just the two of you, and he in just his swim trunks with his perfect toned body and v line on full display #needthat made you kinda lose it internally. you couldn't help but notice his equally wandering eyes.
“you’re staring,” you said, half joking, half trying to get a reaction out of him.
“you started it.” his voice was lower. “should’ve warned me you’d look like that.”
you splashed water at him, trying to play off the situation you created.
trying to quickly change the subject you said, “wait can you take some pictures before my hair gets wet! and we can’t forget the vlog they wanted us to make!”
“awe.. right, i was looking forward to being the only one to see you like this,” he answered, putting on a fake pout.
this threw you for a loop cause now you couldn't tell what he was playing at anymore. he took some pictures of you not to mention, he made you look the best you’ve ever looked. and you uploaded them right away. maybe this could work as some damage control for yesterday's mishap...
you two ended the day or so you thought eating at the hotel's rooftop restaurant. your companies had reserved the whole balcony for you two so you could enjoy dinner in peace. the view both the skyline and euijoo was something straight out of a movie. the candlelight made his big eyes sparkle, and the overall ambiance made you feel some kind of way... while enjoying your meals, the waiter came over with a knowing look and said, “for the lovely couple,” while pouring you two your third… or fourth glass of wine. you both giggled, but neither of you cared to correct him.
your dinner slowly wrapped up. by now, you could definitely feel the wine kicking in, you felt much more giggly than usual. while it did seem to be affecting euijoo a bit, as he seemed a little looser, you knew how drastic the difference was between your drinking tolerances, with his being much higher than yours…
he noticed you getting a little sleepy and suggested you go to bed, as you two were here for work after all, and the show was the following night. afraid you might trip over yourself, he held your hand from the time you got up from the table to when you entered the elevator. once the doors shut, you heard him say softly, while rubbing your hand with his thumb, “you know, if i weren’t so scared of making things complicated and potentially being seen, i would’ve kissed you already.”
that alone knocked the breath out of your lungs. you just stood there, processing what he had just said. you didn’t respond, you couldn't. you felt your cheeks flush and your heart beat faster by the second.
the walk to your room was silent, but his large hand was still wrapped around yours, and you liked that. when you got to your room, you opened the door without letting go of his hand and muttered a, “do you—”
“need help?” he cut you off, stepping in with you.
you nodded.
the room was dim, kinda chilly, and very, very quiet. neither of you said anything else. not yet. you turned your back to him, and he slowly unzipped your dress. the contact gave you shivers all over. you knew damn well it wasn’t just the wine or what he had said earlier that had you feeling like this. you also knew that you didn't want the night to end there, and you could tell he was thinking the same thing. you pulled your dress all the way down, still facing away from him, and broke the silence with, “if i say yes, will you kiss me now?” your voice barely made it past your lips.
without missing a beat, his hands spun you around and he pulled you in. your hands slid up his face and into his hair while his settled on your almost bare hips. he groaned into your mouth like he’d been holding it in for hours. he slowly backed you into the bed, never breaking the kiss. your knees hit the soft edge and you sunk into the mattress, pulling him onto you. your hands slid under his shirt and he took that as his sign to take it off finally. he ripped it off in one swift motion, revealing his sharp collarbones and toned chest that made you lose it just as much as the first time. you felt heat pooling in your lower stomach.
"we can't put this in the vlog" you giggled.
he kissed more intensely now, his lips tracing down your jaw to the sensitive skin on your neck. his teeth grazed lightly as he started to suck, his lips lingering there for a moment. you let out a moan, which snapped him back into reality.
“shit, your makeup artist’s gonna kill me.”
“juju—” you whined.
“i won’t leave a mark,” he whispered against your skin, “unless you want me to.”
you pulled him in closer as your answer, fingers digging into his back as he pressed kisses across your chest, your shoulder, every inch he could reach.
“they can’t do anything about it if they can’t see it!” you giggled.
“god, y/n, you’re unreal. you don’t even know how long i’ve been waiting for this.”
if someone told you a year ago you’d end up in this situation with your co-host, you would’ve laughed in their face, considering the not-so-strict dating ban. but now, you were happy this was the turnout.
“we’re so screwed,” you said, out of breath.
“probably,” he answered, lifting his lips off your chest for a moment. “but… worth it.” and in that moment, it absolutely was.
your fingers clutched deeper into his shoulders, your whole body arching into him, silently begging him to go lower.
he looked up at you, lips swollen. “still okay?” he asked, voice low and raspy, but somehow still soft fingers gently trailing down your sides.
“mhm,” you hummed.
his hands slid down your waist, slowly, as if he was trying to tease you, thumbs dragging along the curve of your hips. he kissed down your stomach, biting softly at the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your panties that were already soaked making you jolt slightly beneath him. then he hooked his fingers under the fabric, pausing for just a second to glance at your face. you gave the tiniest nod, and he slipped them down your legs, kissing your inner thigh.
by the time he moved back up to settle between your thighs, the heat between you was unbearable.
“juju— i need you,” you whined.
his hand slid up your thigh, fingers curling around the back of your knee, lifting it just enough to let him press closer. the thin layer of his boxers was the only thing separating you now. his hips ground into yours, slow and deliberate, and the friction had you gasping.
his fingers passed over your cunt. “fuck, you’re already soaked.”
you could only look at him, eyes wide open, chest rising and falling as you nodded, barely able to breathe. you didn’t have to say a word. his lips crashed into yours again. he didn’t tease this time, pulling his boxers down, lining himself up, his tip sliding through your slick heat.
with a soft groan, he thrusted into you. your breath hitched as you stretched around him. you whimpered his name, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started to move. every thrust was deep and so perfect. your moans filled the room within seconds, the sheets rustling beneath you both. you could feel how close he was already, his breaths turning rough and uneven against your neck.
you clenched around him, urging him on, and the both of you snapped. he buried himself in you with one last thrust, groaning your name as he spilled into you, warmth spreading deep as he held you tight against him. for a long moment, neither of you spoke. you just held each other, your fingers gently combing through his hair as his breathing evened out.
you two didn’t end the night there. you lost count of how many times he made you come again. how many positions he had you in. how often he kissed your shoulder or your thigh or your cheek with so much love. and by the time you both finally collapsed into the sheets, with sore bodies and slick skin, it was well past 3 a.m. you didn’t remember falling asleep, just the weight of his arm around your waist, his chest against your back, and a feeling of fulfillment.
you woke up with the sun shining in your face and your whole body taken over by an ache, a good one though. euijoo’s arm still wrapped around you, his breath hitting the back of your neck, and your legs intertwined in the sheets. you felt exhausted, but it was so worth it. the sweet moment was short-lived as seconds later your phone rang. without even checking who was calling, you picked up, and to your horror, you heard your manager on the other end, who you forgot was flying in that early morning.
“hey, i've been knocking on your door for a bit and i heard nothing back so i’m just checking in…”
“oh— uh— my bad, i was just showering, but i’m all good! shouldn't you be getting rest right now?”
“well now that i know you’re okay i can relax a bit haha. just don’t forget to head to the venue early for your fittings, make sure euijoo knows too!”
“i’ll let him know…” you hung up in a panic and heard euijoo’s sleepy voice asking, “what happened…”
trying to keep your cool, you said, “my manager called 'cause she couldn't find me, so i lied and said i was showering… if they find out i spent the night here we’re so getting scolded…”
“shit,” he said, his voice still a little raspy.
you quickly grabbed your things, gave euijoo a kiss, and made your way to the door. “oh, and don’t forget about the fitting!”
this whole thing felt like a one-night stand, and you hated that. you wanted nothing more than to just stay in his arms forever, but that's what you got for breaking your contract.
the evening of the show finally came. you finally got to see euijoo again after what, like 2 hours lmao, who snuck you to a corner and greeted you with a quick, but heartfelt kiss before he heard his manager calling him. your makeup artist was, in fact, not too pleased with the small but noticeable mark on your neck. you just lied and said it must've been your curling iron, even though you were sure she was onto you.
the fans absolutely loved you two again, and #y/njooinparis trended so fast. fans couldn’t help but notice how you looked a little less energetic than usual, and the mark on your neck, but inevitably blamed it all on your company thank god. saying things like
“they had some days of rest my ass”
“this fuckass company can’t even get a hair stylist and sent y/n on stage with a burn on her neck☹️”
backstage, euijoo found you again, this time with no one around to interrupt. his hand found yours, fingers lacing together with ease. you exchanged a quiet smile and showed him your phone with all the fan theories.
“apparently, they had us rehearsing all night,” you said sarcastically. you two couldn’t help but laugh.
he gave your hand a squeeze. “last night’s gonna be hard to top.” but you weren’t 😛
“yeah,” you said, leaning your head lightly against his shoulder. “but we still have tonight.”
2000 words in and i’m not even at the good part yet… hope u guys like reading😀
heated - byun euijoo ⋆。𖦹°‧
𓏲˚ ۪ ❤︎⊹
“In which a hot, comfy summer morning turns into something a little filthier”
content: +18MDNI fem! reader x ej, established relationship, unprotected sex, soft dom! ej, morning sex, sweat like lots of sweat, just a messy sex session in a hot summer morning, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f. rec) riding, overstimulated ej, creampie.
hate comments will be deleted and blocked, likes and reblogs are appreciated !!
The heat had already seeped into your skin by the time you woke up.
It was the kind of suffocating warmth that clung to everything—heavy and wet, sticking to your thighs, beading along your chest, collecting at the bend of your knees. The ceiling fan turned lazily above you, useless and slow, pushing stale air around the room like a tease. Light filtered in through the thin curtains, spreading golden strips across the floor, across the bed, across his bare chest beside you.
Your parents’ beach house was beautiful but ancient, perched just a few streets off the coast. Every summer it became a sanctuary for your family, wide open windows, salt in the air, sunscreen on your skin, laughter echoing up the wooden staircases. But in this heat, the house felt more like a furnace. No AC. Just stillness and fans and the hope of an occasional ocean breeze that never really came.
You were in a pair of really small shorts, and even with that, the heat was almost unbareable. Your throat dry. Sweat dampened your tank top and soaked into the sheets. You shifted, peeling yourself away from the warmth of Euijoo’s sleeping body, careful not to wake him. He barely stirred, just mumbled something incoherent, his brow furrowing before his arm fell back over your empty space on the bed.
You padded out of the room barefoot, the old wooden floor warm under your feet as you moved toward the kitchen. The house was silent—no movement, no voices. Everyone else was still asleep. Even the waves outside sounded soft, lazy, half-awake.
You poured yourself a glass of water and leaned against the counter as you drank, letting the coolness of the glass ease the heat from your palm. The water wasn’t exactly cold, but it was refreshing all the same, grounding you in the quiet hum of morning. It was a moment you could’ve stayed in longer, but something tugged at you—gentle and warm, like gravity pulling you back down the hallway.
Back to him.
When you pushed open the bedroom door, sunlight had already flooded the space completely, spilling golden light across the tangled sheets. It looked like a painting, warm and still and intimate.
Euijoo was awake now, sprawled across the bed like he had melted into it, hair damp against his forehead, one arm bent beneath his head. The sheet was low on his hips, boxers riding even lower, clinging slightly to the sweat-slick skin of his pelvis. His eyes found you immediately, heavy-lidded and soft.
“Come back to bed,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep. “It’s too hot to be up.”
You leaned against the doorframe, your glass still in hand, and watched him for a long, quiet second. His chest rose and fell slowly, sheen catching the light, gorgeous and golden and completely unrushed.
“You look like you’re melting,” you said, voice barely above a murmur.
He gave a breathy laugh and threw an arm over his face.
“I am melting, but i need you here with me.”
You smiled faintly and set the glass down on the nightstand as you walked toward him. He reached for you without hesitation, large hand slipping into yours, fingers warm and damp, grounding you instantly.
“I missed you,” he said, pulling you back under the covers, back into the heat.
It was too hot for this. Too hot to be tangled together like this. But there was no place else you’d rather be.
You barely had time to settle before his arms wrapped around you again, pulling you back into his chest like he needed the contact to breathe. The sheets beneath you were already damp with sweat, clinging to your skin, sticking between your thighs. The heat pressed in from all sides—thick, relentless, like it had settled into the walls themselves.
His body was just as warm, maybe more.
Euijoo’s skin was slick against yours, every inch of contact making you feel like you were melting into him. His chest rose and fell at your back, shallow and uneven. You could feel the way his breath caught when his hand slid beneath your tank top again, palm flattening against your stomach.
His hand was warm. Too warm. His skin stuck to yours as he moved slowly—up, down, dragging just enough to leave a trail of heat in his wake. The fan above barely helped. All it did was stir the thick, sun-soaked air around the room like steam in a sauna.
His mouth brushed against your shoulder again, lips slightly parted. His damp hair tickled your skin, and you felt the heat of his breath, heavy and shaky.
“You’re so hot,” he whispered against your skin, voice ruined by sleep and need. “So soft. I can’t—fuck—I can’t stop.”
You felt him shift behind you, hips moving just enough to press his hardness against the curve of your ass, slow and unintentional like he hadn’t meant to, but he had. The low sound that escaped him made your thighs clench.
“Seriously?” you breathed, voice low, teasing. “It’s way too hot for this.”
“I know,” he groaned, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck. His hair was soaked, sticky where it touched you, and when he pulled his hand back to run it down your waist, you felt how damp his palm was. “I’m sweating like crazy. It’s disgusting.”
You turned your head just enough to glance at him over your shoulder. His hair was sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed a deep red, lips wet and parted like he couldn’t catch his breath. His eyes were glassy, heavy-lidded with need.
“You look like you’re dying,” you said softly.
“I am,” he muttered. “You were gone for two minutes and now I’m like—burning up.”
His hand slid lower now, fingers skimming just under the waistband of your panties, not touching you where you needed yet, just teasing, just brushing. And when you inhaled sharply, he whimpered. Actually whimpered. His body was tense behind you, barely holding himself back.
“I woke up hard, and then you left,” he said, voice broken and ragged. “And then you came back all sweaty and flushed and sleepy—and now I can’t think. I need you.”
You could feel his cock now, thick and straining against his boxers, pressed tight to the curve of your ass. He rolled his hips forward just once—slow, controlled—and the sound he made this time was deeper, rawer, buried against your skin like he couldn’t let it out fully.
His hand slid up again, under your top this time, cupping your breast gently, thumb swiping across your nipple, which had already hardened from the heat, or from him, you couldn’t tell anymore.
“You’re so warm,” he breathed. “So perfect. I could stay like this all day.”
“Too hot,” you mumbled again, but this time it came out weaker, breathier, because now his teeth were grazing the side of your neck and you were arching into him despite yourself.
“You’re not stopping me,” he murmured with a soft, smug smile you could feel against your throat. “You want it too.”
You did. God, you did. The heat had soaked into everything now, into your skin, into your bones, into the throb building between your legs. You could feel sweat gathering between your breasts, down your spine, where your thighs were pressed together. His palm was slick as he slid it back down your body, slow and reverent, every movement worshipping the way you squirmed under his touch.
“You feel that?” he whispered, rutted against you again, harder this time. “What you do to me?”
You nodded, eyes fluttering shut.
And when he kissed your shoulder again—open-mouthed and wet, tongue slipping out just a little—you knew you weren’t getting out of bed anytime soon.
His fingers slid slowly down your stomach, each movement deliberate, like he was savoring the way you twitched beneath his touch. The air was thick with heat and silence. Outside the window, the morning sun spilled golden light across the room, but inside, everything was soft and slow and dangerous.
You swallowed hard.
“Euijoo,” you whispered, barely a breath.
“I know,” he murmured into your skin, his voice wrecked and quiet. “I know. Just let me.”
His hand dipped beneath the waistband of your panties at last, and you shivered at the contact, his fingers warm and damp with sweat, the pads sliding low, low, lower, until they found the heat between your legs. He groaned when he felt how wet you already were, his breath stuttering against your shoulder.
“Oh my god,” he whispered. “You’re soaked.”
You bit your bottom lip, hard, forcing your body to stay still. You couldn’t trust your voice. Couldn’t trust the soft whimper curling in your throat, desperate to get out. You could hear the quiet creak of the house settling, the distant hum of waves beyond the open windows, but no other voices, no footsteps.
Your family was still asleep. Still just down the hall.
And he was touching you like it was only the two of you in the world.
You didn’t answer, you couldn’t. Not when his hand was already down your panties, slick fingers teasing you so gently it made your thighs tense. His palm was wet against your stomach, the drag of sweat and heat making everything feel electric, raw, overwhelming.
You whimpered softly, biting your lip.
His cock was pressed against you again, hard and hot through his boxers, and when he rutted forward—just a little, just enough—it felt sticky, like even that was messy in this heat. You felt a droplet of sweat roll down the side of your face and onto the pillow, soaking into the cotton beside your cheek.
“You’re making such a mess,” he whispered into your neck, his voice wrecked. “Sweating all over me, baby. You feel how wet you are?”
You nodded, a breathy sound escaping before you could swallow it back.
“Shhh,” he whispered gently. “You gotta be quiet. Everyone’s still asleep.”
And still, his fingers moved. Slow circles over your clit now, slick from both your arousal and the sweat between your thighs. Every touch was so gentle, so restrained, like he knew how close you were to unraveling and he wanted to keep you there, hovering just on the edge.
His body was trembling behind you, hips barely moving, muscles tight from holding himself back.
“I’m losing my mind,” he groaned quietly. “You’re so soft, and you smell like sleep and sweat and sex—I can’t stop touching you.”
You felt his forehead press to your shoulder again, skin hot, damp, sticking there. His breath came fast now, shallow, like he was the one getting touched. Like he was falling apart just from feeling you squirm in his arms.
Another droplet rolled down your chest, slipping between your breasts. You were soaked. You both were. Your bodies were wrapped up in each other like there was no air between them, like you were the only place he wanted to be, no matter how stifling it got.
And then his fingers dipped lower again, sliding through your folds with a slow, slick sound, the kind that made your whole body tense and your teeth clamp down on the pillow to stop the gasp rising in your throat.
“You’re dripping,” he whispered. “I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already dripping, baby.”
You tried to breathe through it, through the pressure building and the heat and his voice in your ear and the sweat that just wouldn’t stop beading at your temple.
“I wanna taste you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Wanna get between your thighs and feel how wet you are on my tongue, but I don’t think I can wait that long.”
You whimpered again, muffled, your thighs shaking slightly as his fingers circled your clit again, firmer this time. The air was thick with your shared breath, the sound of skin on skin, and the stifled moans you couldn’t quite keep down.
And still, your family was asleep just down the hall.
You were burning, shaking, soaking through your underwear with him whispering filth into your ear and touching you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to do.
Euijoo’s hand moved with a kind of frantic slowness — like he wanted to take his time, but his body wouldn’t let him. His fingers kept sliding through your folds, sticky with sweat and slick, smearing the mess across your skin with every stroke. The heat in the room was unbearable now, a pressure pressing down on both of you, thick and wet, turning every breath into steam.
You were barely holding on.
His forehead pressed into your shoulder again, damp hair sticking to your skin, his lips dragging open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, wet and hungry. Every part of him was sweating, his chest against your back, his hand between your legs, his cock twitching against the curve of your ass, leaving a dark patch of precum on his boxers.
“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he whispered, voice hoarse and desperate. “I can’t—fuck, I need you.”
His fingers slipped a little as he circled your clit again, too slick to stay steady, and he let out a frustrated breath, then did it again, slower, more deliberate. You could feel his palm now, hot and damp, pressing messily into you with every movement.
“You’re driving me insane,” he breathed. “You feel so good, baby. So soft, so wet. I can’t stop touching you. I can’t stop.”
You whimpered again, and he groaned into your neck, like just the sound of your breath was enough to ruin him.
Your body jerked slightly when he slid two fingers inside, the stretch slow but so slippery it made your thighs shake. The slick sound of it filled the quiet room, obscene and impossible to ignore. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as he curled his fingers inside you, searching for that spot with clumsy, desperate precision.
“Fuck—feel that?” he muttered. “You’re sucking me in. So tight. So wet. I can’t believe I’m not inside you yet.”
His hand trembled slightly—actually trembled—and when he pulled back just to push in again, deeper this time, his wrist knocked against your thigh with a wet smack. You knew your inner thighs were slick now, not just from arousal but from sweat, from the heat, from him grinding against you like he couldn’t help it.
You could hear him now—panting, breathless and needy behind you, every sound a low whimper or half-bitten moan, like he was the one getting touched.
“I’m so fucking hard,” he choked out, rutting against you again. “I don’t—fuck, I don’t think I can last if I don’t get inside you soon.”
You barely managed a whisper.
“Euijoo…” before he groaned again and kissed the side of your neck, messy and hot, dragging his tongue over a bead of sweat that had rolled down to your collarbone.
His pace picked up, fingers thrusting into you a little harder now, the angle desperate and rough, but still wrapped in the slow rhythm of someone who didn’t want it to end.
“You feel that?” he murmured again, his voice wrecked. “Feel how wet you’ve made me?”
You could. His boxers were soaked, sticking to your ass every time he rolled his hips, and his chest was pressed tight to your back, so hot and slick that your bodies felt like one melting, heaving thing.
And still, his fingers moved. Soaking in the heat and the mess and the need. Desperate. Sloppy.
His fingers slowed inside you, dragging out slowly with a wet sound that made your cheeks burn. Your thighs instinctively clenched, chasing the friction, but Euijoo only groaned under his breath and kissed your shoulder again, lazy and wet, lips sticking to your sweat-slicked skin.
You were still panting, your chest rising and falling with the weight of the heat and the ache he’d left behind. Your body was trembling, sticky with sweat, clinging to his.
Then you felt it.
His hand moved, fingers gliding up your stomach, smearing slick and sweat across your skin until he reached your lips. You opened your eyes just as he pressed the pads of his fingers to your mouth—shiny, soaked in you, warm from your heat and his.
“Open,” he whispered, voice rough and low and so close to breaking. “Taste how sweet you are.”
You hesitated for only a breath before parting your lips, letting him press the fingers past them, slow and deliberate. The taste hit your tongue immediately—salty and musky and yours—and the second your lips closed around him, Euijoo shuddered behind you.
“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes fluttering half shut. “That’s so hot. You’re so fucking hot.”
His other hand gripped your waist tighter, sweat-slick palm sliding just slightly on your skin. You sucked gently, slowly, letting your tongue swirl over his fingers, savoring the way he groaned into your neck, breath shaky and uneven.
“Just like that,” he said softly. “You’re perfect, doll. So good for me.”
You pulled back with a quiet pop, and his fingers slipped from your mouth, glistening now with a mix of your slick and your spit. He stared down at you, wrecked and flushed, hair wet and sticking to his forehead, chest heaving against your back.
You barely had a second to catch your breath before Euijoo was moving again, pulling his hand from between your thighs, dragging it up your body, over your stomach, across the slick curve of your ribs.
Then his fingers hooked into the hem of your tank top.
“Lift your arms, baby,” he murmured, voice low and full of want. “Let me see you.”
You obeyed, dazed and flushed, and he tugged the thin fabric up, slow and unhurried, baring more of your damp skin inch by inch. Your top clung where the sweat had soaked through, peeling off with a soft, sticky sound. When it was finally over your head and tossed to the side, the humid air hit your bare chest, making your nipples tighten instantly.
Euijoo groaned—actually groaned—at the sight.
“Fuck. Look at you,” he breathed. His eyes roamed across your chest like he didn’t know where to touch first. “You’re dripping. You’re so sweaty, baby. I love it.”
And then he devoured you.
His mouth found your breast, hot and open and hungry, lips closing around your nipple with a wet, desperate moan. He sucked hard, tongue swirling over the sensitive bud, and the noise you made was barely a whisper, but your hips bucked.
You were soaked, sweat and arousal mixing between your thighs, your skin slippery everywhere he touched. His hands gripped your waist, trying to steady himself, but they kept sliding, palms wet, fingers trembling from need.
He moved to your other breast, nipping gently, then kissing away the sting. His breath was ragged, shaky, like he couldn’t breathe properly unless his mouth was on your skin.
“You taste like sweat,” he panted, tongue dragging down your chest, “and summer and you.”
You whimpered under him, your hands sliding into his hair, fingers threading through the damp strands at the nape of his neck. He was soaked—his forehead, his temples, the back of his neck—and his mouth was everywhere, kissing a path down your body like he was worshipping the heat that clung to you.
Then he shifted, kissed your stomach, licked a bead of sweat that had trailed down your navel. His hands slid lower, hooked under your thighs, and then—
He settled between your legs.
He pushed your legs apart slowly, reverently, groaning when he saw the mess between them. Your panties were damp, nearly see-through from sweat and slick, and he pressed a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh before speaking again, voice low, gravelly, wrecked.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he whispered, nuzzling closer, tongue dragging along your inner thigh. “I don’t care how sweaty you are. I want it. I want all of you.”
And when he licked you through your underwear—slow, filthy, and needy—you nearly cried out, biting your hand to keep quiet.
Your breath caught as Euijoo mouthed over the damp fabric of your panties again, hot, open-mouthed, wet. He groaned into you, tongue dragging slow and heavy over the soaked spot, and you felt the sound vibrate through your core.
“Fuck, princess” he whispered, almost to himself. “I can feel you through these—can taste you.”
His fingers curled around the waistband, and you lifted your hips for him, body trembling. He peeled your panties down slow, reverent, sticky from how soaked they were. They clung to your folds before slipping free, and he let them drop somewhere off the side of the bed without even looking.
And then he looked at you.
Not at your face, at your cunt.
Eyes dark, lips parted, sweat shining on his flushed skin, and when he exhaled, it was a shaky, wrecked breath.
“God,” he said, almost reverently. “You’re perfect.”
Then he dived in.
No teasing. No hesitation. Just tongue — hot, slick, eager — flattening against you, licking one long, slow stripe through your folds before circling your clit in slow, shaking strokes. He moaned when he tasted you properly, grinding his hips into the mattress below like he couldn’t take it.
You threw a hand over your mouth, eyes wide, body locking up at the sheer intensity of it.
He was soaking now, his hair stuck to his forehead, temples slick, sweat dripping from his jaw onto the inside of your thigh. His hands gripped your legs tighter, sliding slightly from the heat and mess, but he held you open, anchored to you like this was the only place he ever wanted to be.
His tongue moved slow, then fast, then slower, drawing tight circles around your clit, then flicking it gently, rhythm messy and needy like he couldn’t decide what would make you fall apart faster.
Every few seconds he pulled back to catch his breath, panting hard, cheeks flushed red. Then he’d dive right back in, groaning, licking, devouring you like the taste of you was everything he’d ever needed.
You felt his voice more than you heard it, low vibrations against your soaked skin.
“So sweet,” he murmured. “I could stay here all day.”
And he meant it.
Your thighs trembled around his head, your body arching up, sweat slicking every inch of skin between you. You felt him press messy kisses to your clit, slow and open-mouthed, hands roaming your hips with desperate reverence, like he needed every part of you under his palms.
When his tongue slipped lower—down to your entrance, inside—you almost sobbed into your fist, the noise muffled but your body giving you away.
“You taste so good like this,” he whispered, licking back up through your folds, “so messy and hot and mine.”
Your hand was still pressed over your mouth, but your hips gave you away — twitching, bucking, grinding helplessly into Euijoo’s face as his mouth worked you over like he was starving. And maybe he was. The way he moaned into your pussy, low, wrecked sounds that vibrated through your whole body, made it feel like he needed this more than air.
His tongue was everywhere. Messy, relentless, greedy. Licking through your folds like he couldn’t get enough, sucking your clit with wet, filthy noises that had your eyes rolling back.
You couldn’t keep your thighs still. Couldn’t keep quiet either, every time his tongue slipped a little lower or he moaned into your heat, something soft and helpless escaped your lips, half-strangled into your palm.
“F-fuck, Euijoo—” you breathed, barely audible, like your lungs couldn’t hold enough air. “You’re—gonna make me—”
“Do it,” he panted against you, his voice cracked and drunk and gone. “Come for me. Please. Please, baby, come on my mouth, I need it—”
He sounded wrecked.
His face was soaked, chin slick, lips shiny, hair stuck to his forehead in damp strands. Sweat dripped down his neck, tracing his spine, and his hips rutted softly into the mattress like he couldn’t help it.
His tongue didn’t stop.
He sucked your clit again, rough and slow and needy, then licked back down, deeper, dragging the flat of his tongue over your entrance before slipping inside. He moaned as you clenched around him — a full-body, fucked-out moan like he was tasting heaven.
“Can’t stop,” he mumbled, slurring the words into your skin. “You’re so good—fuck—you taste so fucking good, baby—”
You were sweating, panting, toes curling into the sheets. The heat, the pressure, the way his hands gripped your thighs to keep you still — it was all too much. Your whole body was trembling, wet and sticky and his, as he devoured you like a man possessed.
When his thumb reached up and circled your clit in time with his tongue inside you, you broke.
Your back arched, body locking tight, your cry muffled against your hand as you came — hard, and hot, and wet — against his mouth.
And Euijoo didn’t let go.
He groaned, drinking it in, messy and unashamed, like your orgasm was something sacred. His tongue kept moving, slower now, gentler, but still so greedy — licking you clean, moaning through it, lips slick and swollen.
When you finally sagged into the mattress, chest heaving and thighs twitching, he pulled back just enough to kiss your thigh — slow and sloppy — before resting his cheek against it.
His face was soaked.
Hair a mess. Lips swollen. Eyes glassy.
And when he looked up at you, breathless and flushed, he smiled like he was drunk.
“Best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he whispered, voice rough with heat and love and lust.
Euijoo rested his cheek on your thigh for a moment, still panting, still dazed. His lips were swollen and shiny, and when he blinked up at you, it was like he wasn’t even fully back in his body yet.
Then he moved — slow, heavy, like every inch of him was weighted with heat and hunger. He crawled up over you, dragging his damp body along yours, the sweat between you making your skin stick together. You could feel the heat radiating off him — from his chest, his stomach, the hard length of him pressing hot against your hip.
He leaned in to kiss you, and you let him. Let him press his mouth to yours, slow and deep, tongue sliding against yours so you could taste the salt and the slick he’d just pulled from you. You moaned softly, hips twitching up into his, and he shuddered.
“I need you,” he breathed, voice rough, lips brushing yours. “Need you on top of me, baby. Wanna feel all of you. Slow, messy… I don’t care how hot it is.”
Your thighs were still trembling, but the second you shifted beneath him, wrapping your arms around his back, rolling your hips up, he groaned like he was in pain.
“You’re so hard,” you whispered against his mouth, and he nodded, frantic, forehead dropping to your shoulder.
“Been hard for you since you walked back into the room,” he confessed, breath shaking. “Sweaty and flushed and mine—I couldn’t think straight.”
You kissed his temple, your fingers running through his hair — soaked now, the strands clinging to your palm, and then you pushed gently at his chest. He rolled onto his back, breath catching when you straddled his hips.
His hands gripped your thighs, sliding up slowly, shakily, fingers slipping on your damp skin. You were soaked, hot, aching, and when you reached down to wrap your hand around him — thick and twitching and leaking against your fingers — he choked out a sound that made your stomach clench.
“Fuck—baby—”
You sank down slowly, both of you gasping as the heat between your bodies surged, sticky and slick and unbearable. The stretch made you whimper, and Euijoo’s hands flew to your hips, holding you like you’d disappear if he let go.
“Oh my god,” he groaned, head falling back against the pillow, sweat trickling down his neck. “You feel—fuck, you feel too good.”
You started to move, slow, rolling grinds of your hips, your thighs sticking to his, the sheets beneath you completely soaked now. The sun had climbed higher through the window, light spilling over both of you in gold, and the air felt thick, like it had weight, like even breathing was heavy.
And still—he looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him alive.
“Ride me, baby,” he pleaded, voice hoarse. “Take your time. Make me feel all of it.”
You leaned down, kissed the sweat off his jaw, your bodies sticking and sliding together, and started to move again — slow and deep, letting him feel every second of it.
His moans were breathless, high and shaky, fingers digging into your hips, dragging you down harder, messier, needier every time.
“I’m not gonna last,” he gasped, eyes fluttering. “You’re so wet—so hot—fuck, I’m gonna come just like this—”
You moved slowly, hips rolling with the rhythm of your breath, your slick skin dragging across his with every grind. The sweat made everything slippery — your thighs, his stomach, the sheets underneath you already soaked through. The room felt unbearably hot, air heavy and thick, and the only sounds were your ragged breathing, the wet slap of your hips meeting his, and the occasional soft moan you couldn’t keep in.
Euijoo was ruined.
His eyes fluttered every time you sank down on him, mouth open, chest rising and falling too fast. His hair was damp against the pillow, strands sticking to his temples, and his cheeks were flushed bright pink, sweat dripping down the curve of his jaw.
“God—fuck—baby—” he gasped, head tipping back as you grinded down harder, slower, keeping him deep.
He was so deep inside you. Every inch, every pulse, right there, and the more you moved, the more wrecked he got. His fingers flexed around your hips, trying not to grip too hard, but he couldn’t help it. He was shaking.
“Can’t—can’t hold it,” he panted, brows scrunched, eyes locked on where your bodies met. “You feel so good, fuck”
You leaned down to kiss him, swallowing his moan, your hands sliding through his damp hair. You moved again, slow and deliberate, grinding until you felt him twitch inside you.
And he whined.
High and breathless, like he was about to fall apart.
His body jerked, his hips lifting helplessly as he gasped your name like he was drowning. His release spilled deep inside you, thick and hot and endless, his arms wrapping around you so tightly it felt like he was trying to melt into you. His thighs trembled under yours, his whole body tense and trembling.
But you didn’t stop.
You kept moving — slow and steady, grinding through it, pulling more from him even as he whimpered against your shoulder.
“F-fuck—baby, I—oh my god”
His hips still lifted, just barely, like even overwhelmed and overstimulated, he needed more. Needed all of you.
But he didn’t slow down.
Even as he twitched through it, gasping into your skin, he kept moving — dragging your hips against his, slow but forceful, refusing to let you pull away. His cock was still buried inside you, still hard, overstimulated and throbbing, but his hands only gripped you tighter.
“Don’t get off me,” he muttered, voice dark and breathless against your shoulder. “Not yet. You’re gonna come like this.”
“Euijoo—” you gasped, back arching. “You just came—”
“I don’t care,” he cut you off, a groan breaking through his teeth. “Need to feel you come. Need to feel you lose it on my cock.”
He sat up a little, chest to chest now, sweat slick between your bodies. His palms slid up your back, firm and hot, one hand tangling in your hair while the other gripped your ass, guiding your movements as he rocked you over him.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours. “You’re gripping me so good—fuck, baby, come on.”
You whimpered, your thighs shaking around him, every nerve in your body lit up from the heat and the pressure and the way he owned your pace now. He rolled his hips up into you, matching your rhythm, dragging you down to meet every thrust, each one just a little rougher.
Every time you tried to slow down, catch your breath, he pushed you back into it — harder, deeper, his breath hitting your mouth in hot, heavy pants.
“You feel this?” he rasped, eyes locked on yours. “Feel how wet you are? How full you are?”
You nodded, barely able to think, your head spinning.
“That’s mine,” he growled softly, jaw clenched, one hand sliding down to rub tight circles over your clit. “That’s all mine. Now give it to me. Come for me, baby—come now.”
The pressure hit you like fire.
You cried out, lips parting in a silent gasp, your whole body locking down as the orgasm tore through you. You clenched around him hard, shaking in his lap, and Euijoo groaned — low and possessed, like the feel of you coming on him was the only thing keeping his soul in his body.
“F-fuck, there it is,” he gasped, hips jerking up into you, helpless. “Good girl. Good fucking girl—ride it out—”
You collapsed against his chest, gasping into the space between his neck and shoulder, trembling through the comedown. His arms wrapped tight around you, holding you close, not letting you go — not even when your bodies stopped moving.
Just the two of you, skin to skin, panting in the quiet morning heat. His cock still inside you, his hands still roaming over your back, like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.
You didn’t know how long you laid there after — still straddling him at first, his chest rising and falling under yours, both of you slick with sweat and breathless. Your thighs were trembling, your skin damp and sticky against his, but the weight of him still inside you, the way his arms were wrapped around your waist like you might disappear — it was perfect.
Eventually, he shifted, slow and gentle, rolling with you until your back hit the mattress and he settled beside you. Not far , never far. His leg was slung over yours, one arm under your head, the other stretched across your belly, palm warm and heavy.
The sheets stuck to your skin, and the pillowcase under your cheek was damp, but Euijoo didn’t seem to mind. His eyes were soft when he looked at you, that warm, half-drunk kind of dazed, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.
Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to your shoulder. A kiss — slow, lingering — followed by another. And another. Then lower, to the edge of your collarbone, then down between your breasts, each one softer than the last.
“I’m sweaty,” you whispered, teasing. “Disgusting.”
“You’re perfect,” he corrected instantly, kissing the swell of your breast, then the side of your ribs. “Could stay right here forever.”
His lips traveled across your chest — warm, open-mouthed kisses on every inch he could reach. He nuzzled his face against your skin like a cat, humming softly, his voice all sweet and sleep-slurred.
“I can’t stop touching you,” he confessed, lifting his head just enough to look at you, his expression soft and full of wonder. “Like I’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream if I let go.”
You turned to kiss him — slow, lazy, your lips just barely moving over his. His hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. He kissed you like he had all day, like there was no rush at all, like he’d still be kissing you long after the sun had set.
The air was still thick with heat, your skin still buzzing, but with Euijoo curled around you like that — clinging to you, kissing every inch, whispering soft, sleepy praise against your chest.
It felt like summer.
It felt like him.
oh my god YES
Girl I'm obsessed with maki hoodie one (?) Can't remember but I kinda hope you make similar thing cause damn that's too hot 🙈🙊
omg yay!! i’m so glad u like it:D i’ll also use this as an opportunity to share all the wips ive got going rn😼
- mc euijoo
- after hours w/ tutor nico
- pt 2 of ennemies to fuck buddies(?) yuma
- more maki (guys i have too many ideas for this one so we will see how it turns out..)
okok if (hypothetically!!) i made a fic where u & juju are mcs tgt and go on a trip for like work and then yall fuck… would u guys like it better if the two are secretly dating orrrr if it’s more of a like tension building up to that typa thing…. (im so not writing this rn guys…..)
the two are secretly tgt
sexual tensionnn
cooking up a little euijoo smt smt rn who cheered😛
SO EXCITED for the &team recs im shaking with glee rn!!
slowly but surely catching up on adding all the scrumptious fics i read while i was lurking😼
thank u sm for 100 followers omg🥹🥹 i promise im cooking up a few more works for yall!! mwah