[ejsxr]

xr, you’re free to guess what that means and

no it’s not just two random letters I threw together

21, incredibly &team pilled and so terribly, stupidly

down bad for a certain byun euijoo

reblogs and thirst thoughts, mdni !

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[lunegenic]

limits.

in which you have the hots for your soon-to-be stepbrother, euijoo, but he has you convinced he can't stand you. or - the one where you dare euijoo to take your virginity. wc: 4k | notes: smut (don't like it? don't read it), the return of mean euijoo, raw sex, loss of virginity, breeding kink, euijoo swears a lot, some drinking, minors do not interact!

You wanted Euijoo the moment you laid eyes on him. And you didn’t care that he was to be your new stepbrother.

Euijoo, on the other hand, apparently wanted nothing to do with you.

When you entered a room, he left shortly after. If you spoke to him, he’d give you a curt response or ignore you entirely. Sometimes you’d catch him glaring at you like he couldn’t stand the sight of you.

It was a foreign emotion; being infatuated with someone that hated your guts.

The truth was, Euijoo wanted to ruin you. But, unlike you, he cared that you were about to be his stepsister.

You were off-limits.

That was until Nico’s summer blowout party. It was an annual event. Nico had wealthy and always busy parents. Which meant he could throw the biggest party of the year with no repercussions. Given everyone was dreading the fall semester due in just a few weeks, it was a notorious night for cutting loose.

Standing in the kitchen, you watched Euijoo over the rim of your plastic cup before downing another mouthful of liquor that wasn’t nearly diluted enough. Nico drifted over to Euijoo, shooting you a quick glance. He was in on your little plan and he couldn’t wait to fuck with Euijoo.

“Bro, if your sister keeps looking at me like that, I’m gonna fuck her,” Nico teased, sticking his tongue out at you flirtatiously.

You pretended to be shocked, then held up your middle finger just as Euijoo snapped, “She’s not my sister.”

“Then why haven’t you stuck your dick in that virgin pussy yet?”

Euijoo wanted to take his head off. He wanted to be angry, but of course, all he could think about was… “How do you know she’s a virgin?”

Nico laughed. “She told me. Said she wants to lose it tonight. You know, end the summer with a bang. Pun intended.”

“You’re pissing me off,” Euijoo snarled, his eyes darting over to you. The moment he saw you watching, he looked away, but still threatened Nico. “You touch her and I’ll kill you.”

“Why? She’s not your sister.”

Euijoo was talking before his brain had time to convince him to stop. “Because she deserves better than you. You wouldn’t know what to do with a virgin.”

Nico arched a brow. He was still grinning with amusement. “And you would?”

His brain having finally caught up, Euijoo said nothing. He’d already said too much. Taking a gulp of his drink, he mumbled, “Our parents are getting married next month. Then, she’ll be my stepsister.”

“So this is your last chance to have her, Euijoo. If you don’t, someone else will.”

And with that, Nico sauntered away, sending a wink in your direction that Euijoo didn’t see. Nico had the benefit of knowing Euijoo was down bad for you. That’s why he avoided you like the plague.

Unfortunately, Euijoo couldn’t stop thinking about what Nico had said. And he had enough alcohol in his system to fuel his mouth. Tossing away his now empty cup, Euijoo stomped in your direction.

You could hardly believe your eyes when he approached you. Euijoo never approached you, and boy, you hadn’t realized how much he towered over you until this moment. Leering down at you, Euijoo hissed, “Are you really throwing out your virginity to a random guy tonight?”

“Nico can’t keep a secret,” you retorted. Folding your arms, you matched Euijoo’s fire, narrowing your eyes at him and not backing down. “Is it any of your business what I do with my body?”

“Yes,” Euijoo blurted.

You’d never seen him so angry and that confused you. “Are you jealous, Euijoo?”

“No.”

You laughed. “Oh my god, you’re jealous.”

Euijoo set his jaw. You were infuriating him. He wanted so badly to put you in your place. Instead, he gave you a scowl and walked away.

You bristled with frustration. Why couldn’t he just admit he wanted you?

Euijoo was halfway across Nico’s frontyard, away from the noise of the party, when he heard, “Coward!” He stopped and turned around slowly, watching you stomping toward him.

“What do you want from me?” Euijoo asked, flustered.

You stopped before him and put your hands on your hips. “You and your dad moved into my house two months ago. Since then, you’ve acted like I’m the person you hate most in the world. As if this whole arrangement didn’t fuck up my life too.”

Euijoo didn’t break his gaze from your eyes while you yelled at him, but you saw something flicker. He was studying your every move and he looked even more frustrated.

You huffed loudly, let a moment pass, and then bargained. “I’ll move to the dorms when the semester starts. That way you’ll never have to see me again.”

“In exchange for what?” Euijoo pressed, but he knew the answer coming next.

“Kiss me.”

Euijoo grimaced. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was in pain. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he started, hesitant.

“Yes, I do.”

“Everything would be your first. You would get attached. Then they would get married and you would hate me.”

You frowned. “Who are you and what have you done with Euijoo? All the girls talk about how you love and leave them. How you’re so good they think about you every night. I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m daring you to fuck me.”

“The difference is I can’t leave you,” Euijoo said lowly.

Glaring at him, you sighed, “Oh. I get it now. Those girls wanted you to stay. You got sick pleasure in leaving them. I’m giving you permission to use me and leave me, and that just takes all the fun out of it for you. Doesn’t it?”

“Go back inside,” Euijoo snapped, hissing your name with disdain.

You challenged him and shot back, “Or what?”

Euijoo stepped into your space. You could feel the heat of him. If looks could kill, you would drop dead at any moment. “Or I’ll make you hate me as much as I hate you.”

Your eyes suddenly burned. You’d underestimated him. Instead of doing as told, you brushed past Euijoo and began the long walk back to your house.

Euijoo ran a hand down his face before heading hurriedly to his car. He drove beside you as you continued down the sidewalk, waiting a moment before rolling down his window and calling out, “Get in the car. I’ll drive you home.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you smarted, like a fussy child.

“You’re an adult, right? Act like it.”

“You act like it,” you mumbled under your breath.

Euijoo stopped the car. You kept going, never looking back until you heard the patter of footsteps behind you. A hand wrapped around your arm and turned you around, making you collide into Euijoo’s chest.

“Euijoo, if you don’t…,” you yelled at him, but then his lips were on yours in a kiss that made your heart stop.

His fingers tangled into your hair, pulling you deeper into him, kissing you recklessly, a hot collision of his lips on yours, and you were struggling to keep up with him, on your tiptoes.

Euijoo finally broke away, his hand still in your hair, and looked at the daze on your face. He waited until your eyes met his and said, “Get in the car.”

You were breathless and it showed in your voice. “If I don’t, will you do that again?”

He laughed, making you smile. “Just get in.”

You let him lead you over, heat burning your cheeks when Euijoo opened your door for you like a gentleman. It caught you off-guard.

Neither of you spoke the entire drive home, but Euijoo kept his hand on your bare thigh possessively. You couldn’t stop looking down at his long fingers, wanting to lace yours through, but not having the courage.

Who was the coward now?

You didn’t know how to handle how hard your heart was racing. You knew you were going to get hurt. The two of you were doomed. A time would come when the boy you’d been in love with would be your stepbrother and you’d never be able to look at him without falling to pieces.

Euijoo was no different. He’d been conflicted about his feelings the whole time. On the one hand, he’d never met a woman he wanted for more than one night. He’d never pictured wanting to stay by someone’s side, but you? The thought of leaving you made his entire body rebel. Like you were where he was supposed to be.

But you were the one person he couldn’t have.

Shaking his head, Euijoo focused on the road, but he stroked his thumb on your thigh, as if to soothe you. It was more for him. He was savoring every touch, knowing they would all be the first and last.

When entering the house, Euijoo gave your ass a quick smack, directing you under his breath to go to your room. You did as told this time, quickly racing to your bedroom and right into your closet to find the sexiest thing you owned to wear to bed.

Then, silence.

You got under the covers and waited, and waited. Glancing over at the clock, it slipped past two in the morning and you exhaled loudly.

Euijoo wasn’t coming. Maybe he’d gotten cold feet. Maybe he was just toying with you all along.

Rolling onto your side, ignoring the pain in your chest, you pressed your eyes closed to hold the tears back and tried to sleep.

You had finally drifted off when your bedroom door opened.

Euijoo stared at the outline of your body beneath the blanket and began stripping out of his clothes. When he pulled the covers back and slid inside, he was naked.

You weren’t dreaming. Everything was kinda hazy, because you hadn’t fully fallen asleep yet. Euijoo rolled you onto your back and pawed at you, smirking at the silky little top you were wearing. And then he saw the matching underwear.

Euijoo slowly and carefully peeled your clothes off of you, biting his lip through a smile at how you still weren’t waking up. Oh how he’d love to wake you up with his cock splitting you open, but he remembered you were a virgin.

You hummed softly when warm lips sealed around your nipple, sucking. Heat pooled between your legs like you were gushing arousal.

Euijoo spread your thighs, making himself comfortable between them and let his hard cock rest on your lower belly, pressing in to put pressure on your sex. He kept sucking on your nipples, feeling you shift and squirm beneath him.

Your eyes opened and Euijoo was there. Just as you gasped in surprise, his lips were on yours, kissing you deeply.

You draped your legs over his hips, feeling the weight of his cock on your pussy. He was long and thick, and you couldn’t wait to feel him inside.

Euijoo broke from the kiss, looked deep into your eyes, and said, “It’s gonna hurt.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“I’ve never been with a virgin before,” he mumbled, more so to himself. “I’ll try not to do too much.”

“Do whatever you want.”

Euijoo chuckled. “Trust me. You don’t mean that.”

You felt your heart speed up as Euijoo took your hands and placed them above your head, pinning them with one of his own. With his free hand, he steered his cock to your entrance and gave a tentative push, breaching inside.

Your body bowed and you gasped out a breath. He already felt so big and full, and he was barely in yet.

Euijoo kept going, meeting your resistance and breaking through, making your pussy wrap around him so snugly it knocked the wind out of him.

You cried out softly, tears burning your eyes. It hurt, like you knew it would, but it was so worth it.

Both of you let out pained breaths when he bottomed out.

“Fuck. So tight.”

Understatement of the year. You could feel every drag of his stiff cock against your walls, the tip of him nudging your cervix. That made your head spin.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Euijoo asked coyly.

The pet name made you wilt. Peering up at him, you said in a small voice, “You’re so deep.”

“You like it?”

You nodded, then you couldn’t help but ask, “Will it always be this tight?”

“Maybe.” Euijoo nipped at your lips playfully and then asked darkly, “Would you like if I have to stretch you out every time?”

You nodded even as he kissed you, mumbling into his mouth. Every time. Meaning more than once. You held desperately onto that. You didn’t want this to be the only moment you were tangled with him.

Euijoo pulled back and thrust in slow and deep. His movements were controlled and deliberate, like he needed you to feel him opening you up for his use.

When his hands slacked around your wrists and instead he laced his fingers through yours, your heart skipped a beat. It was so intimate; you never wanted it to end.

Euijoo kissed you hotly, the wet smack of his lips almost as wet as his balls meeting flush against your folds every time he drove into you. “Gonna sneak in every night, baby,” he purred between kisses, breathing a little faster. “Gonna fill this pussy up all night with my cock.”

You were burning up so bad with lust it was getting harder to breathe.

“You want that?”

You nodded.

“Then say it.”

Heat snaked up your neck and into your cheeks when you whined, “Want you to sneak in every night and take me. Again in the morning too.”

“I will. Till you’re so sore every step you take will remind you of me.”

You cried out and Euijoo quickly slotted his lips to yours to hide your noises.

“Gotta keep it down, baby,” he teased, flicking his tongue into your mouth playfully. “Or I’ll really give you something to scream about.”

Euijoo released your hands to prop himself over you, stroking into your cunt. He shook his head to flip the damp hair out of his eyes and you couldn’t help but reach for him, settling your hands on his broad shoulders.

You moaned softly when Euijoo lowered down, making you take more of his weight, buried his face in your neck and started to really fuck you, sheathing his cock to the hilt in your pussy over and over again until you were making little noises on your every exhale.

Euijoo was in heaven. He should have known your body would mold so perfectly around his, your wet, warm cunt gripping onto his cock greedily. Euijoo was convinced there was nothing in the world that could pull him out of you.

When he kissed you, you felt whole, complete. Like this was exactly where you were meant to be and he was who you were meant to be with.

Kissing you hard again, Euijoo stopped to groan, “Fuck, baby. Please tell me you’re on the pill.”

“Yes,” you replied without missing a beat. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of why he asked that.

Euijoo grabbed your knee and hooked your leg in the bend of his elbow, spreading you farther apart and angling deeper into your pussy, the tip nudging your cervix again. “Tell me to come inside,” he panted.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Your body was totally pliant and hungry underneath him. You didn’t hesitate to say, “Come inside.”

Euijoo watched his cock sinking in and out of you, your pussy welcoming him back every time. “Promise you’ll never let anyone else come in you,” Euijoo suddenly said, surprising you both.

You blinked up at him. “I promise.”

“Good girl.”

Hearing him say that did something unspeakable to you. Your body arched into his, you tipped your head back and moaned, and you dug your nails into his skin.

Euijoo bit his lip, recognizing you were on the edge, and locked in on his pace, making sure to thrust right against that sweet spot.

“Euijoo,” you whimpered, eyes winching closed, pleasure tensing your beautiful features.

“Right there,” Euijoo growled, working you to the edge expertly. “Come on my dick.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could even catch up. Pleasure coursed its way through your body, making your walls clamp down on Euijoo while you shook from head to toe and cried out his name. Euijoo dared not shush you this time. He needed to hear you call his name at the peak of your orgasm.

“Oh, god,” you cried, slumping deeper into the mattress, realizing your fingers were digging into his burly arms and Euijoo was still steadily easing his hard dick in your pussy, riding out your high. His gaze was locked to your face, so fucking turned on at how beautiful you looked when you came on him.

The moment you looked at Euijoo, your eyes clearing, he pulled his cock from your cunt and flipped you over, dragging you with him to the edge of the bed. You quickly braced your hands on the mattress, letting Euijoo spread your legs and sheathe his dick in you again.

Euijoo got his arms around your waist and started to drill you, chasing his high like he was losing control. Doing your best to stay upright, your eyes rolled, your lips parted on a silent scream. Euijoo leaned in and kissed your neck, as if to reward you for taking him.

“I’m coming, baby,” Euijoo said with a groan. He’d never fucked someone like this. He was always in control, always measured and steady, but your body had a chokehold on him. The only thing he wanted was to come inside you and he had no idea how he was going to find the strength to pull his dick from the grip your pussy had on him.

“Come,” you managed to say, his thrusts jarring you roughly on the bed. It felt so good, your toes were curling. You were so slick from your own orgasm, he moved inside you like silk.

Euijoo pressed his chest to your shoulders, reaching up to grip your face in his big hand. His thumb brushed over your lips and he bit down on the base of your neck before hissing, “You’re mine. This is mine. And you’re gonna take all of it.”

You nodded as best you could with his grip on your jaw and whined, “I want all of it.” Then, you bit his finger for good measure and said, “Never fuck anyone else like this. Only come inside me.”

“Only you.”

You listened to Euijoo’s groans, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. All the nights you imagined what it would be like for Euijoo to fuck your brains out and nothing compared to the real thing. Each time he snapped his hips and his cock filled you to the brim, your walls fluttered around his dick and clenched, still sensitive from the orgasm. Your eyes rolled. Your lips parted but no sound came out.

Euijoo thrust in hard, drew back and stopped, then shoved in again, making sure to milk his pleasure. You almost came again just at the feeling of him using your body to take his load, your breasts bouncing when his hips collided with your ass. You gripped the blanket in your fists, the drag of his cock against your tight walls making you shake. Feeling the warmth of his cum inside you, you bit your lip, your cheeks flushing hot.

Lingering, Euijoo buried his face in the crook of his neck and focused on catching his breath. His hands roamed your body, kneading your breasts just like your pussy kneaded his dick. He wasn’t ready to be parted. He needed to stay inside you.

“Euijoo?”

Euijoo finally moved, his arms still locked around you tight like someone would steal you from him at any moment. He lifted upright, glancing down where your bodies connected and palmed your breasts again, just hungry to keep touching you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“No. I’m fucked.”

You smiled, happy at having done that to him.

Euijoo reluctantly parted from your body and slumped onto the mattress. You didn’t hesitate to lay down next to him.

The two of you finally looked at each other and you giggled, flying high on a rush of hormones.

“What?” Euijoo questioned confusedly.

You bit your lip before telling him, “I had no idea it would feel that good.”

Euijoo reached out, touching your cheek before leaning in and kissing you tenderly. You kissed back softly, contented. It had been such a hot and heavy moment, you were glad things were settling down.

Meanwhile, Euijoo looped his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, tucking you into his chest like he was guarding you. With a deep sigh, he said, “I meant it, you know. Every night.”

You chuckled. “And every morning.”

Euijoo grinned, his eyes getting heavy with sleep.

Then, you knocked the wind out of him when you whispered, “At least until the wedding.”

His body went rigid. His heart stopped. Anger coiled deep in his stomach. Euijoo frowned, not that you could see, and set his jaw. “No,” he said after a pause. “Not even then.”

You blinked in surprise, feeling yourself sink a little deeper into his arms.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” Euijoo breathed, almost more to himself. Like it was finally hitting him.

Tears pricked your eyes when it dawned on you that you weren’t just sex to him. There was something more. It was why he’d been avoiding you so hard, and why you’d been longing for him. You held onto him a little tighter and closed your eyes to stop the tears, knowing the two of you would have to fight for whatever relationship you wanted to have.

Feeling you curled up in his arms, your heart beating in sync with his, Euijoo knew then exactly what he was going to do.

Derail the fucking wedding.

[d3adg1rlie]

I missed you.

Sum: Euijoo comes home from a long and exhausting tour. He missed you so much he just had to have you as soon as he saw you.

Tw: Praise, dirty talk, rough Euijoo, top!euijoo, cumming, fingering..lmk if I missed anything! :3

Euijoo opens the door. You’re sitting on the couch watching TV. You stand up to greet him with your arms out for a hug. “Hi baby! Welcome hom—..mmph!” Euijoo pushes you against the door and cuts you off with a rough kiss. You gasp into the kiss, parting your lips.

His tongue slides into your mouth, making you groan. His hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer.

“J-ju~…”

“Shush..just let me kiss you~…” he kisses you again, nipping at your lip a little too hard, it almost hurts. “Missed you so much~…” he groans into the kiss. Your hands thread through his hair, giving a slight tug. Euijoo grunts into the kiss, his hand slides to your ass, giving it a firm grip. His hand slides along your thigh, lifting it up to his hips, adjusting your leg to give him a deeper angle.

His hips grind on yours, pressing his hard cock into you. Your hips meet his, feeding deeper into the friction. You moan into his mouth. The way his cock perfectly slots between your legs drives you mad.

Euijoo pulls you over to the couch, slightly manhandling you. He bends you over and grinds into you again. Your back arches under him, making you moan again. His hand rubs up your spine, pushing you into a deeper arch.

Euijoo’s hands slide into the back pockets of your shorts, grabbing your ass again. “You gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy of yours~? Because I missed my pretty girl so much~?”

You nod frantically. “Juju~ please~!” You beg. He pulls your shorts down, making you shutter from the cold air hitting your core. A streak of arousal fluid drips down your thigh.

“Fuck you’re already dripping for me~?” He stuffs two fingers into, curling up inside of you, making you whimper.

He leans over you, and with his free hand, he slides it under you, massaging your tit with his palm. You clench around him, and he speeds up his fingers.

Your fingers grip the couch, turning your knuckles white. He continues sliding his fingers in and out of you, curling and scissoring them to stretch you open. He pulls his fingers out. You hear the clink of his belt being undone, and the unzip of his pants.

“Euijoo~!! Noo~!” You whine at the absence. You look behind you and see him stroking himself with the same hand he was just using to finger you. He rubs his tip between your folds, slicking himself up even more.

“Juju~ no teasing~…” you whine. He pushes himself in slowly. The burning stretch feels euphoric.

“Fuck I missed you…” he rasps into your ear before he starts pistoning his hips in and out of you.

“Missed this…missed you…missed your pretty pussy squeezing me~…nng fuck…” he groans in your ear.

Your walls flutter around him, and you grip the couch cushions tighter. Euijoo grunts as he fucks you faster. The tip on his cock absuses that sweet gummy spot inside of you. His hand snakes up your back and into your hair. He grabs your hair at the base of your scalp and pulls your head up.

“Ah-ah~ Euijoo~!” Your walls clamp around him hard, and he can already tell you’re close.

“You gonna cum for me~? Hmm~? Gonna cum around my cock for me~?”

Ahh~ uh-uh-..uh huh~!” You nod in his grip. He pulls your body up slightly, arching you harder. Your puffy nipples rub against the fabric of your shirt, shooting you closer to your orgasm.

“J-jju~ I’m gonna-…nngh gonna cum~!” You moan. He presses his body harder into you and bites your shoulder. You squeeze your eyes shut, and your body shutters. You suck him in deeper, and you cum around his dick.

You pant as you come down from your orgasm. Euijoo lets go of your hair and slows down.

“Good girl~ cumming so pretty for me~…but I’m not done with you~” Euijoo picks you up bridal style and carries you to your shared bedroom and kicks the door closed.

Tags: @makizdoll @fumasannn @noey2kool @wenoswhore @binneulton

Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglistttt

[lovfufuuu]

hii I loved your charm trap and vulnerable like I swear ur writing actually eats so hard like I love it sm you hv no idea and this is actually my first time sending a request so I’m lowkey kinda nervous and I’m not quite sure how to go about it but like,, I can’t stop thinking abt teasing juju till he snaps and seeing his reaction and like punishment after or smth, like just dom juju w a kinda bratty reader if that makes sense and I feel like I’m rambling a lot but yes anyway tysm and I can’t wait to see what you write or push out next !!

hello, anonie ☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*

first, I'm so sorry for this late response, i was so busy that i barely remember this account. im glad that you like my write, also this is my first request too. i hope you like this fics and enjoy it-! (⁠^⁠^⁠)

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ 𝙎𝙒𝙄𝙏𝘾𝙃 𝙊𝙉 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: bf! euijoo x f!reader

𝓽𝔀!: 𝙢𝙙𝙣𝙞!, brat!reader, spanking, oral, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, orgasm denied.

The apartment was too quiet.

In the late afternoon, the sun cast long, amber slants of light across the hardwood floor of the living room, illuminating tiny, dancing motes of dust in the air. Byun Euijoo’s apartment—no, their apartment, because they had shared this space for two years now—was in a state of absolute, sterile perfection.

You sat on the edge of the plush gray sofa, your chin resting heavily in the palm of your hand, staring blankly at the opposite wall.

Usually, there was something to do. A mountain of college assignments to conquer, a messy kitchen counter to scrub, a pile of laundry to fold. But today, the universe had conspired to leave you entirely, brutally free. Your essays were submitted; the apartment was so clean it practically gleamed; the novel on your nightstand had been finished last night, and you hadn't had the chance to buy a new one; even the television, with its endless catalog of streaming shows, felt incredibly flat.

You let out a long, dramatic groan, letting your body slide down the cushions until your head hung off the edge of the sofa, staring at the ceiling upside down.

"I am going to die of terminal boredom," you muttered to the empty room.

Then, the soft, distinct click of the digital lock at the front door echoed through the hallway.

Your ears perked up instantly. Like a predator catching the scent of its favorite prey, your boredom evaporated, replaced by a sudden, wicked spark of mischief.

"I'm home," a voice called out.

It was a beautiful voice—quiet, rich, and naturally gentle. Euijoo stepped into the entryway, sliding his shoes off with his usual neat precision. He looked slightly disheveled, the top button of his dress shirt undone, his dark hair falling softly over his forehead. He had had a long, exhausting day at his office internship, his shoulders carrying the faint slump of fatigue. Yet, the moment his eyes found you sprawling dramatically on the couch, his lips curved into that familiar, patient smile.

He walked over, his steps light on the floor, and leaned down. He didn't say a word about your ridiculous posture. Instead, he simply brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your skin.

"Did you have a good day, babe?" he murmured, his voice a warm hum.

You peered up at him, your eyes narrowing slightly as you took in his gentle expression. This was Euijoo. Always calm. Always understanding. In the two years you had lived together, you had never once heard him raise his voice. He was a deep, tranquil well of patience—a stark, almost comical contrast to your chaotic, attention-seeking nature. You loved to push him. You loved to tease, prod, and poke at his boundaries just to see how far they would stretch before he finally let out one of his trademark, long-suffering sighs.

Usually, that sigh was your cue of victory. Once you got him to sigh and shake his head with that fond, exasperated look, you would laugh, kiss his cheek, and behave.

But today... today, the boredom had left a restless, itchy sensation under your skin. Looking at his pristine, gentle demeanor, a sudden, dark urge flared within you. You didn't just want a sigh today. You wanted more. You wanted to crack that perfect, unbothered exterior. You wanted to see what lay beneath the saintly patience of Byun Euijoo.

"I was bored," you pouted, reaching up to tug lightly on his tie. "But now you're here."

Euijoo chuckled, a soft sound in his chest, and gently pat your cheek. "I'm going to take a shower first, alright? I feel dusty from the commute. Wait for me."

"Okay," you whispered, a slow, cat-like grin spreading across your face. "I'll wait in the bedroom."

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut and the sound of rushing water filled the apartment, you sprang into action.

You walked into the bedroom, bypassing your usual oversized t-shirts and soft pajama pants. Instead, you opened the bottom drawer of the dresser, rummaging through the silk and lace until your fingers brushed against a specific piece of fabric.

It was a white satin nightgown. It was short—skimming just below your hips—with a low-cut back and delicate lace detailing along the bust. The material was incredibly smooth, clinging to your curves in a way that left very little to the imagination. You slid it on, shivering slightly as the cool satin met your warm skin, and climbed onto the bed.

You propped yourself up against the pillows, posing with a calculated air of innocence, though your eyes were fixed hungrily on the master bathroom door.

After what felt like an eternity, the sound of the shower died down. A few moments later, the door clicked open, and a wave of warm, eucalyptus-scented steam billowed into the bedroom.

And then, Euijoo stepped out.

You stopped breathing.

He was drying his hair with a small white towel, his dark locks damp and messy, sticking up in endearing tufts. But your gaze quickly traveled downward, and any thoughts of "endearing" vanished. He wasn't wearing clothes. A single, large white towel was wrapped precariously low around his waist, hanging dangerously off his prominent hip bones.

His chest was bare, glistening with stray droplets of water that slowly rolled down the defined, lean planes of his torso. Euijoo wasn't overly bulky, but he possessed a deceptively athletic, broad-shouldered frame—the kind of body built from years of quiet discipline. His collarbones were sharp, his chest broad, and his abdominal muscles cut a beautiful, shadow-draped pattern in the dim light of the bedroom.

He was a masterpiece. A quiet, breathtaking work of art.

You stared. You stared so long and so hard that you didn't even realize you were biting your lower lip until Euijoo stopped drying his hair, lowering the towel to look at you.

He blinked, taking in your attire—the white satin nightgown that barely covered you, your flushed cheeks, and the intense, hungry look in your eyes. He let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head.

"(y/n)?" he called out, his voice laced with amusement. "Babe? Are you staring?"

You didn't answer. Slowly, like a siren drawn to water, you slid off the bed. Your bare feet made no sound on the carpet as you crossed the distance between you, your eyes never leaving his.

When you reached him, the scent of his body wash—fresh, clean, and masculine—wrapped around your senses. You reached out, your fingertips trembling slightly as you pressed your palms flat against his broad, damp shoulders. The skin was warm, a delicious contrast to the cool air of the room. Slowly, you dragged your hands down, feeling the firm muscles of his chest, the heavy, steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

Euijoo’s breath hitched. His hands, still holding the small hair towel, tensed.

"Babe," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, carrying a warning tone that was still entirely too gentle. "I'm really tired today. It was a long day at the office."

He was rejecting you. Gently, of course, because he was Euijoo.

But you weren't going to accept that. The rejection only fueled the stubborn, restless fire inside you. You leaned closer, your body brushing against his, the thin satin of your nightgown doing absolutely nothing to block the heat radiating from his skin. You tilted your head up, your eyes wide, glittering with a deliberate, heavy sensacy.

"Just a little bit, Ju," you purred, your hands sliding down to trace the sharp lines of his ribs, your thumbs brushing dangerously close to the waistband of his towel. "I'll do all the work. You just have to lie there."

Euijoo swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. He reached down, his large, warm hands wrapping around your wrists, stopping your wandering fingers.

"No," he said, his voice soft but firm. "You have a nine a.m. lecture tomorrow, remember? You need to sleep."

You frowned. Of course he knew your schedule. He always did. He kept track of your classes, your exams, your life, always looking out for you like the perfect, responsible partner he was.

But right now, his perfection was driving you insane. You didn't want the responsible Euijoo. You wanted the man behind the mask. You wanted to hear him lose his breath, to see him lose control. You wanted him ferocious, wild, untamed.

"I don't care about my lecture," you whispered, your voice turning sharp, laced with a sudden, daring defiance.

Before he could respond, you planted your hands firmly on his chest and shoved him.

Euijoo, caught off guard by your sudden burst of strength, stumbled backward. His back hit the wooden door of the wardrobe with a solid, muffled thud.

Before he could recover, you lunged forward. You grabbed his face with both hands, tilting his head down, and crashed your lips against his.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was hot, messy, and demanding—a physical manifestation of all the pent-up boredom and frustration you had carried all afternoon. You forced your tongue past his lips, tasting the minty freshness of his toothpaste and the deep, intoxicating heat of his mouth. You kissed him like you wanted to consume him, your body pressing flat against his, pinning him to the wardrobe.

Euijoo went entirely rigid. His hands hovered in the air for a fraction of a second before slowly landing on your shoulders. You felt his fingers twitch, preparing to gently, firmly push you away to lecture you about boundaries and sleep.

‘Oh no, you don't,’ you thought.

Knowing this was your only chance to break him, you played your final card.

While your mouth continued to feast on his, your right hand slid down, past his ribs, past his hip bone, and deliberately slipped beneath the loose fold of the towel wrapped around his waist. Your fingers searched in the dark until they wrapped around his thick, fully engorged length.

"Mmmgh-!"

A deep, strangled gasp broke from Euijoo’s throat, vibrating directly into your mouth. His entire body shuddered, his muscles tightening like steel cords under your touch.

You pulled back from the kiss, a triumphant, wicked smirk playing on your swollen lips. You looked down, your hand slowly, rhythmically stroking the thick, pulsing heat of him.

"Oh, my..." you whispered, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Look at this, Euijoo. You say no with your mouth, but your body... your body is such a liar, sweetheart."

You squeezed him gently, running your thumb over the crown of his length, feeling the bead of pre-cum that had already gathered there.

Euijoo’s eyes were squeezed shut. His head was tilted back against the wardrobe door, his jaw clenched so hard the muscles stood out in sharp relief. He bit his lower lip, a low, pained groan escaping his nose as he tried to battle the sheer pleasure your hand was inflicting on him.

"B-babe..." he choked out, his voice trembling, a desperate plea hidden beneath the strain.

"You smell so good," you ignored his plea, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

You inhaled deeply, the scent of his clean skin and the heat of his arousal dizzying your senses. You pressed hot, wet kisses along his collarbone, your tongue licking a path up his throat before you found a particularly sensitive spot right below his ear. You sucked on the skin, a soft, deliberate session, your hand continuing its torturous, slow stroking down below.

"(y/n)... please," Euijoo gasped, his hands on your shoulders tightening, his nails digging slightly into your skin. "Don't... you know I'm trying to hold back—"

"Then don't," you whispered against his skin, your teeth lightly grazing his earlobe. "Stop holding back, Ju. Show me."

In an instant, the air in the room shifted.

The quiet, patient, gentle boyfriend you knew vanished, swallowed whole by a sudden, terrifyingly dark aura.

Before you could even register the change, Euijoo’s hands gripped your waist. His grip was so tight, so sudden, that you let out a small gasp. With a display of raw, effortless strength that made your stomach flip, he lifted you off your feet. You felt completely weightless, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he carried you across the room in three large, aggressive strides.

He didn't lay you down gently.

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, keeping you lay on your stomach onto his lap. His face was dark, his eyes narrowed into twin slits of pure, unadulterated lust and a dangerous flicker of anger.

Before you could utter a single word, Euijoo reached down, grabbed the hem of your white satin nightgown, and yanked it up to your waist, bunching the fabric around your ribs. Your lower half was exposed, save for the thin lace panty you wore.

Without a word, Euijoo hooked his fingers into the side strap of your underwear. With one powerful, impatient tug, the delicate fabric tore with a sharp rip, exposing your dripping, swollen slit to the cool air of the room.

SLAP!

A sharp, stinging pain exploded across your left buttock.

"Ah!" you screamed, your body jerking violently, your hands clutching your bed cover for dear life. The sound of the slap had been incredibly loud in the quiet room, echoing like a whip crack.

"E-Euijoo..." you gasped, your eyes wide with shock, looking at him.

"Quiet," Euijoo said, his voice incredibly quiet, but it carried a razor-sharp, chilling edge that made a shiver of fear—and intense arousal—run straight down your spine. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted to push me."

SLAP!

"Ah-!"

Another strike landed, this time on the right side, even harder than the first. The pain was immediate, a deep, throbbing heat that made your breath catch in your throat.

"I just came home from a twelve-hour shift," Euijoo growled, his hand hovering over your reddening skin. "And instead of letting me rest, you decide to act like a brat. A needy, misbehaving brat."

SLAP!

You let out a broken whimper, your head falling to the bed. Your heart was hammering against your ribs. You had always known Euijoo was strong, but you had never imagined him using that strength like this. This wasn't the gentle spanking of a playful lover; he was genuinely punishing you, channeling all his pent-up stress and the frustration of your constant teasing into every strike.

"You've been testing my patience for weeks," Euijoo continued, his voice low and dangerous as he stared down at your blushing, trembling thighs. "Always teasing, always running your mouth, thinking I would just smile and let it go. You wanted to see what happens when I stop being nice, right?"

SLAP!

"Ngh! Please, Ju..." you cried out, your fingers digging into his back. The skin of your bottom was burning, fully flushed a deep, beautiful pink.

"Look at you," Euijoo whispered, his voice suddenly shifting into a dark, mocking tone.

He slid his hand down, his long, thick fingers brushing against the highly sensitive folds betweenyour thighs. The moment his fingers made contact, he let out a dark, mocking chuckle. Your slit was drenched, completely flooded with thick, slippery moisture that coated his hand instantly.

"I barely slap you a few times, and you're already dripping like a faucet? Such a masochist little slut," he murmured, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clitoris, making you twitch on his lap.

"No, I-I'm not—"

"Shut up."

Without any warning, Euijoo shoved two of his long fingers deep into your tight, soaking wet channel.

"Ahhh!" you screamed, your back arching.

He didn't give you time to adjust. He immediately began to pump his fingers inside you with a brutal, relentless speed. He wasn't being gentle; he was thrusting deep, his fingers hitting your G-spot over and over again, while his thumb kept up a punishing, heavy friction on your clitoris.

The pleasure was overwhelming, too fast, too intense. Your head spun as you clung to his neck, your hips helplessly rolling against his hand, chasing the friction.

"E-Euijoo! Oh god, Ju... please, I'm... I'm gonna—"

Your internal walls began to contract violently, a massive, crushing wave of an orgasm building rapidly in your lower abdomen. You could feel it, the sweet, explosive release just a second away.

But right as you were about to cross the threshold, Euijoo abruptly ripped his fingers out of you.

The sudden loss of friction felt like a physical shock. Your body convulsed in frustration, your breath caught in your throat, your orgasm suspended in a torturous, agonizing limbo.

SLAP!

He smacked your throbbing bottom once more, hard enough to make you sob.

"You want to come?" Euijoo sneered, his eyes dark and merciless. "Not that fast, brat. I haven't given you permission."

Before you could protest, Euijoo gripped your hips and threw you backward onto the bed.

You landed heavily on your back, your hair splaying across the sheets. Before you could even try to sit up, Euijoo crawled over you. He grabbed your ankles, pushing your knees all the way up to your shoulders, forcing your legs wide open.

Your wet, pink, and glistening pussy was fully exposed to his gaze, trembling and leaking fluid onto the sheets.

Your eyes were swimming with tears of frustration, your chest heaving as you looked up at him. "E-Euijoo... please... I need to... please let me come..." you sobbed, your voice breaking.

"No," Euijoo said, his face cold, though his breathing was heavy. "Bad girls don't get what they want. You need to learn how to wait."

He reached out and, with a sudden, humiliating slap, he struck your bare, sensitive breast.

Plak!

"Ah!" you gasped, a fresh tear escaping your eye. The pain was sharp, but the sheer degradation of it sent a jolt of raw electricity straight to your brain, making your dripping slit clench even tighter.

"Oh, look at you..." Euijoo murmured, his expression softening into something incredibly twisted and sweet. He leaned down, his thumb gently wiping away the tear rolling down your cheek. "You look so beautiful when you cry, sweetheart. Should I make you cry some more?"

Without waiting for an answer, his hand slid down. He didn't penetrate you this time. Instead, he pinched your swollen clitoris between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth with a slow, agonizing pressure.

"Ngh! Ah! Ju, stop, please... it's too much..." you thrashed against his grip, but his other hand was pinning your thighs down, rendering you completely helpless.

Your walls were twitching, contracting around nothing, desperately seeking the fullness of his length to satisfy the itch deep inside your womb. Euijoo watched your helpless struggle, a dark, pleased smirk on his lips.

"What's wrong? Isn't this what you wanted?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. "You wanted me to be rough. You wanted me to lose control. Why are you begging me to stop now?"

You could only shake your head frantically, your hands clutching the sheets. The denial of your orgasm was turning into a literal torture, making every nerve ending in your body hypersensitive.

"Euijoo, please... I'll be good... I swear I'll be good... just let me come..." you pleaded, sob-deshed.

He stared down at you for a long moment, his thumb slowing down on your clitoris, letting the tension build to an unbearable point.

"Do you really want to come that badly?" he asked softly.

"Yes... please... ahh-"

he suddenly press his thumb against your clitoris, combined with a sudden, deep thrust of his two fingers back into your wetness, your body finally snapped.

You shrieked, your entire body spasming violently as a massive, overwhelming orgasm ripped through you. Your vision went white as your fluids squirted out, soaking his hand and the sheets beneath you. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, your chest rising and falling as you tried to find your breath.

But as your orgasm began to fade, you heard Euijoo let out a low, dangerous hum.

"Oh..." he whispered, his voice dripping with dark promise. "I don't remember giving you permission to come, (y/n). You really are a disobedient little thing, aren't you?"

Your heart leaped into your throat. You knew that tone.

You were in so much trouble.

Euijoo didn't give you a single second to recover.

With a rough tug, he stripped the remaining white satin nightgown over your head, leaving you completely naked and shivering on the bed. He then reached down to his waist, unknotting the towel and tossing it aside.

Your eyes widened as you stared at his erection. It was massive, fully engorged, the thick veins pulsing along the shaft, the tip dark red and leaking heavy drops of pre-cum.

Before you could think, Euijoo reached out, grabbed a handful of your hair, and yanked you toward the edge of the bed. He forced you down onto your knees on the floor, while he stood right in front of you.

"Open up," he commanded, his voice cold.

When you hesitated for a fraction of a second, his grip on your hair tightened, pulling your head back so you had to look up at him. He raised his free hand and delivered a sharp slap to your cheek.

Plak!

"No teeth, baby. You know the rules," he whispered.

You swallowed your whimpers, opening your mouth wide. Euijoo didn't wait. He guided his thick, throbbing length to your lips and shoved it inside.

"Mmmgh-!"

The sheer size of him filled your oral cavity completely, his tip pushing directly against the back of your throat. You choked, your hands desperately grasping his thighs as your eyes watered.

Euijoo let out a deep, guttural growl of satisfaction. He didn't let you dictate the pace. Holding your head firmly by your hair, he began to thrust his hips forward, forcing his thick shaft in and out of your mouth in a brutal, rhythmic pace.

Gag. Gag.

You couldn't breathe. Every time he thrust deep, your throat convulsed, tears streaming down your face, wetting his lower abdomen. You tapped his thigh frantically, begging for a break, but Euijoo was completely gone, consumed by the raw power of having you entirely at his mercy.

"Ah... your throat, baby... so tight... so warm..." he groaned, his head tilted back as he increased the speed, his hips slapping against your chin.

He face-fucked you relentlessly, pushing you to your absolute limit until your vision began to blur and spotty. Only when he felt you truly turning limp did he finally pull out with a wet, heavy gasp.

You collapsed on the floor, coughing violently, desperate chestfuls of air rushing into your lungs as saliva mixed with pre-cum ran down your chin.

But Euijoo wasn't done. He grabbed your arms, hauling your weak body back onto the bed, throwing you onto your back. He grabbed your ankles and lifted your legs high in the air, holding them up with his left hand.

He stared down at your swollen, dripping slit.

"This pussy needs to be taught a proper lesson," he murmured.

SLAP!

He smacked your wet pussy.

"Ahhhh!" you shrieked, the sting of the slap on your highly sensitized clitoris making you sob openly. "Euijoo, please! No more! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"I told you, you started this," Euijoo said, his voice entirely devoid of his usual warmth. "So you have to take it."

He let go of your ankles, letting your legs fall wide open. He crawled between your thighs, his thick, heavy chest pressing down on yours. He grabbed his erection, rubing the wet, pre-cum covered tip against your sensitive clitoris, teasing you with light, agonizing slaps of his shaft.

"Do you want this cock so badly, you slut?" he whispered in your ear.

"Yes... yes, please, Euijoo... give it to me..."

"Ask nicely."

"Please, Master... put it in... please..." you begged, completely broken.

Euijoo smiled—a dark, victorious smile.

With one heavy, merciless drive of his hips, he buried his entire length inside you.

The Rock and the Storm

"NGHAAAA-!"

You screamed, your fingers clawing at the headboard. The entry was incredibly tight, stretching you to your absolute limit. You tried to push his shoulders away, trying to create some space because he was too deep, too heavy.

But Euijoo was like a solid rock, entirely unbothered by your weak struggles. He didn't back out. Instead, he leaned all his weight into you, grinding his pelvis hard against yours, forcing himself even deeper until his pubic bone crashed against yours.

You sobbed, your body shaking as another wave of intense, overwhelming pleasure began to build immediately. Your walls were squeezing him so tightly, trying to cope with the sheer volume of him inside you.

Euijoo looked down at your flat stomach. Because of how thin you were, and how deeply he was buried inside you, you could actually see the distinct, terrifying bulge of his shaft stretching the skin of your lower abdomen.

He let out a low, proud chuckle. He reached down and pressed his fingers directly against that bulge, pushing it.

"Ngh! Ah! Oh god-!"

"Look at this, sweetheart," Euijoo whispered, his voice thick with lust. "Your tight little pussy is struggling so much to hold me. You're stretched so wide."

He pressed the bulge again, and the internal friction was so intense that your body instantly short-circuited. You screamed, your legs locking around his waist as you fell into another violent orgasm, your walls pulsing around him like a vice grip.

"Another one?" Euijoo asked, tilting his head with a mock expression of disappointment, though his eyes were blazing with heat. "You really can't control yourself, can you?"

"No... no, please—ah!"

Euijoo didn't let you rest. The moment your orgasm began to subside, he started to move.

And he moved fast.

"Since you love coming so much without my permission, I'm going to make sure you come until you can't even stand," he growled.

He pinned both of your wrists above your head with one hand, his grip like iron. With his other hand, he gripped your hip, digging his fingers deep into your flesh, securing you in place.

Then, he began to slamming into you.

The pace was brutal. He was thrusting with a savage, animalistic rhythm, his hips crashing against yours with deafening, wet slaps. Every thrust was deep, raw, and heavy. He was completely driving you crazy, his body working yours like a machine.

He leaned down, crashing his mouth against yours. He didn't kiss you gently. He shoved his tongue deep into your mouth, tangling it with yours, swallowing your loud, broken moans and sucking the very air from your lungs. You were completely consumed, unable to breathe, unable to think, only able to feel the relentless, heavy stretching of his cock inside you.

His hand moved from your wrists down to your breasts, grabbing one of them and squeezing it with a rough, bruising force. He pulled his mouth away from yours, burying his face in your chest. He bit, licked, and sucked on your collarbones and breasts, leaving deep, dark purple marks all over your skin, all while his lower half continued its relentless assault.

The contrast was mind-blowing. This was Euijoo. The boy who made you tea when you had cramps, the boy who gently tucked you in at night, the boy who never raised his voice.

And now, he was completely destroying you, his face flushed, his eyes wild, treating your body like his personal playground. The sheer turn-on of seeing him like this sent your arousal skyrocketing to dangerous heights.

You felt another orgasm building, even more powerful than the last ones.

Euijoo felt the sudden, tight clenching of your walls. He pulled his head up, his dark hair damp with sweat, looking down at your messy, beautiful face.

"Want to come again, baby?" he pant, his voice incredibly husky.

You could only nod weakly, your lips parted as you let out broken, incoherent whimpers. Your eyes were glossy, completely lost in the pleasure.

Seeing you completely ruined under him, Euijoo let go of all restraint. He increased the pace even more, his thrusts becoming short, sharp, and incredibly fast.

"Ah! Ah! Ju! Euijoo! Ahh!"

"Sshit... you're so tight... (y/n)..." Euijoo groaned, his jaw clenching as your walls squeezed him with an agonizing grip.

With three more powerful, deep drives that shoved your head against the headboard, both of you reached the edge.

You screamed, your body arching off the bed as a massive, screaming orgasm ripped through you, your fluids squirting out onto his stomach. A split second later, Euijoo let out a loud, guttural roar. He thrust one final time, burying himself to the hilt, and unleashed a massive, burning torrent of his seed deep inside your womb.

He held himself there, his body twitching as he poured wave after wave of hot semen inside you, filling you to the brim.

Eventually, his strength gave out, and Euijoo collapsed heavily on top of you.

Both of your chests were heaving, the sound of your rapid, tangled breathing the only noise in the room. The air was thick with the scent of sex, sweat, and spilled fluids.

After a few minutes of quiet recovery, Euijoo slowly pushed himself up. He looked down, pulling his semi-erect length out of you with a wet 'schlich'.

He smirked, a soft, incredibly satisfied look on his face as he looked at your red, leaking, abused pusyy, your trembling thighs, and the countless dark marks covering your neck, chest, and shoulders. You looked completely claimed. Anyone who saw you would know exactly who you belonged to.

Without a word, Euijoo slid down to lie beside you.

He pulled you close, slipping your arm under his head as a pillow, and pulled the thick blanket over both of your naked, sticky bodies. He snuggled close, burying his face directly into your chest, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

To your surprise, he opened his mouth and gently latched onto your nipple, sucking on it with a soft, slow rhythm, like a quiet baby seeking comfort after a long storm.

You let out a weak, exhausted chuckle. The contrast was back. The beast had gone back to sleep, and your gentle, sweet Euijoo had returned.

You shifted slightly, getting comfortable, and ran your fingers through his soft, damp hair, brushing it back from his forehead. You held him close, letting him suckle on your breast, until the heavy weight of sleep finally dragged both of you down into a deep, peaceful slumber.

that's it anonie, i hope i didn't break your expectations (^з^)-☆Chu!!

[lunegenic]

blow.

in which you and your boyfriend, euijoo, get into a fight and you try to win the best way you know how. or - the one where you give euijoo the best head of his life. wc: 3k | notes: smut (don't like it? don't read it), some brief arguing, blow job, pussy eating, raw sex, euijoo gets rough and dominant, daddy kink, minors do not interact!

Euijoo never yelled. What he did was much worse. He cut you to pieces in the calmest, coldest voice you'd ever heard.

"Just because I handle things differently, doesn't mean I'm wrong," he snapped, striding across the living room to grab his jacket.

You were right on his tail, determined to win this argument if it killed you. "I'm just trying to make your life easier," you countered, putting your hands on your hips.

Euijoo whipped around, his tone dropping, and leered over you. "No," he said slowly. "You're trying to control me."

You opened your mouth to deny it, but Euijoo didn't give you the chance.

"And I'm not with you to make my life easier. Believe me. You are the hardest job I've ever had."

Your eyes went wide in disbelief. "I'm a job now? Me? The one taking your dick on the regular?"

"That's the one perk to putting up with your constant nagging of how I'm not doing what you want me to do," Euijoo shot back, not amused.

Planting your feet, you folded your arms and seethed, "I think you should sleep in your studio then."

"Gladly," Euijoo retorted, snatching his keys and marching toward the front door.

You followed him step for step, making sure you got that last word in. "And you can fuck yourself on your microphone. It won't nag you like I do, but it won't suck all the cum out of you either."

"Maybe I will." Euijoo gave you one last scathing glare and slipped out the door, slamming it shut behind him and making a loud bang echo through the house.

You stood there, staring at the door. Waiting and hoping for him to come back inside. Was that it? Had your relationship just totally collapsed?

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" You chided yourself over and over. Why was winning the argument so important? More than having a conversation with Euijoo and hearing him out?

You just didn't like how much he let slide. You wanted him to stick up for himself at work more. But Euijoo liked to handle things diplomatically, and slowly. You didn't have that kind of patience and you hated knowing his bosses at the company pushed him around.

Just because I handle things differently, doesn't mean I'm wrong. You mulled on that, because he was absolutely right and the more you thought about it, the more you felt bad for how you'd spoken to him in the heat of the moment.

However, calling you a job was over the line, and you were already plotting your revenge accordingly.

So you waltzed into your closet and found the sluttiest outfit you owned: a black lace dress that hugged your every curve. You paired it with thigh-high stockings and the tall red bottom heels Euijoo had gifted you. Spritzing on the perfume Euijoo loved most, you donned a heavy coat to hide what was underneath and left the quiet house.

You were totally unsurprised when you saw Euijoo's car parked outside the studio; the only one in the lot. Using the back entrance, typing in the code you knew by heart, the click of your heels echoed down the hall.

When you opened the door to the studio most used by your boyfriend, you were expecting to find him working on another song. Instead, you saw Euijoo sitting at the table, his fingers at his brow like he was exhausted and stressed.

Euijoo drew a deep breath, anticipating another fight, and sighed, "What are you doing here?"

"I came to apologize," you said softly, and in an instant you had Euijoo's undivided attention. You continued, "I was wrong. You're allowed to handle things how you see fit. I just get frustrated with how you're treated here sometimes."

Euijoo arched a brow.

You held up a finger and added, "I'm not making excuses. I'm just trying to explain my reaction."

"I appreciate the apology. Thank you," Euijoo said with a tenderness that surprised you.

Standing there, knowing what was beneath your coat, the room filled with tension. You stared him down, put your hands on your hips, and asked, "Is there anything you want to say to me?"

Euijoo cocked his head in amusement. "Did you just offer me an apology to get one back?"

"I don't want an apology from you, Euijoo," you said, unfastening your coat as you slowly approached him. Once it was open, you tossed your coat onto the table, letting Euijoo feast his eyes on your body.

Euijoo scanned you from head-to-toe, biting his lip at what he saw. You knew exactly what his weakness was, and you never were afraid to use it against him. "I can guess what you want," he mumbled under his breath.

"Mm, I don't think you can," you retorted, bracing your hands on his thighs and leaning over, letting him get a front row seat to your cleavage nearly bursting out of the dress. "Of all the things running through your mind right now, you have no idea what's in mine."

"Share with the class." Euijoo gripped the arms of his chair tight. He wanted to grab your breasts, shove them together, and bury his face in them. It would fix all of his problems, but he didn't want to give you the satisfaction.

You reached between his legs and palmed his cock over his jeans, making Euijoo jolt at your touch. "Why do you think I wore thigh highs?" You slowly sank down between his feet, peering up at him hungrily. "I have to protect my knees."

Euijoo swallowed the lump in his throat. He could feel it coming - he was going to give you anything and everything you wanted. Watching you put your hair up in a ponytail, neither of you breaking eye contact, Euijoo licked his lips and began unbuckling his pants for you.

When his half-hard cock was in front of your face, you didn't hesitate to lick from base to tip, letting saliva fall from your lips onto his shaft. You were looking at his dick like it was the one thing in the world that would satisfy you and that alone had Euijoo's length standing at attention in no time.

"You kill me," Euijoo sighed, tipping his head back to avoid watching your face. You turned him on so bad, it wasn't fair. How could he stay mad at you when you were always eager to choke on his cock until he emptied himself down your throat?

Knowing exactly the power you had over your boyfriend, you pumped his cock in your fist and sucked at the head, teasing him. Taking a little more of him into your mouth, you sealed your lips around his cock and pulled back, releasing him with a wet pop.

Euijoo dropped his head, looking right at you, his eyes already hooded with lust, his cheeks flushed with warmth.

You laved your tongue around his dick like a good cockslut and batted your lashes, purring, "Show me how you like it."

"You know how I like it," Euijoo said in a dark voice, tangling his fist in your ponytail. Steering your head down, he commanded, "Open up."

Smirking at him taking control like you wanted, you parted your lips and let him guide you down his stiff cock, arching his hips slightly until he was deep in your throat. He shook your head a little, just for some extra punishment, and let you choke on him, drawing you up before pushing you back down again.

Euijoo's other hand slipped over your shoulder, settling at the nape of your neck, more leverage to keep moving you up and down his cock, a wet gag filling the room when the head of him hit your throat. You gasped for breath when you could, tears already tumbling down your cheeks.

"You love this as much as I do," Euijoo growled, angling your head back so he could see your tear-filled eyes, your makeup already smearing. "Fuck, you look so good like this, baby. You love having a throat full of my dick, don't you?"

You nodded as best you could, earning yourself a tiny reprieve when Euijoo pulled you off his cock. You swallowed and stole an extra breath or two, before eagerly settling back into his lap, licking at his dick like it was your favorite treat.

Euijoo tugged on your hair, making you look up at him, and scolded, "Slow down. You don't want me to come too fast, do you?"

You nodded quickly. Nothing made you happier than his thighs shaking underneath you while he spilled down your throat. The sooner, the better.

Chuckling, Euijoo traced your cheek with affection and said, "Alright. You can have your way. This time."

With that, Euijoo got your head in both hands and began fucking his cock into your throat. You kept your grip on his thighs, fisting his pants occasionally, but otherwise you sat like a good girl and let him rut his cock into your mouth, thrusting harder and faster until you got a curt warning that he was finishing.

You swallowed him as your tongue rubbed underneath his dick, your lips sealing around him and your cheeks hollowing out. Sucking as hard as you could, Euijoo howled out a moan; a sound he couldn't fight no matter how hard he tried as you sucked every last drop out of his dick, stars bursting behind his eyes, making them roll back.

When you didn't stop, Euijoo tore you off him, not about to tolerate any overstimulation from you. His fist in your ponytail was brutal and he kept ahold of you, keeping your torturous mouth from his softening cock. You licked at your lips, tasting the salt of your tears and his cum.

Just as you reached up to tentatively wipe your face, Euijoo was on you, hoisting you onto the dashboard of his studio and pinning you back. He was a man on a mission, ripping at your dress, tearing off your soaked panties, and spreading your legs apart to steer them onto his shoulders.

It was your turn to fill the studio with your sounds of pleasure as Euijoo wheeled his chair up to the table and buried his face in your pussy. You clamped your thighs on his head and spread your arms at your sides, your hands bumping against the keys and dials, but you didn't care.

Euijoo was out to return the favor, knowing you were aroused from blowing him. He was never shocked to taste how wet you were after sucking on his cock and he couldn't wait to lap up your juices. When you dug your nails into his fluffy hair and across his scalp, Euijoo groaned into your pussy, wrapping his lips around your clit.

"You do that so good, baby," you moaned, eyes lolling at the way he made out with your pussy, kissing and sucking at her like he had nowhere to be anytime soon.

Euijoo bit the inside of your thigh just to make you squeak and then kept going. The taste and scent of you filling his nose and mouth was going to get him hard again in record time. He sank his fingers into your thighs and smirked when you bounced your hips against his face.

A whiny moan spilled out with your breaths and you squirmed under Euijoo, feeling yourself getting dragged closer to the edge. "Yes, Daddy," you whispered, gripping his hair tight. "Like that. Please, don't stop."

Euijoo noticeably slowed, tonguing between your folds and toying with your clit. He felt his dick rising and he was biding his time. The moment he was hard again, he stood up, making you look at him in confusion.

Just as you opened your mouth to question him, Euijoo dragged you off the table and spun you around, bending you over it and getting his hand in your hair again. Your cheek against the cold surface and your ass in the air, you gripped the edges for purchase when you felt his cock entering you in one long, smooth stroke.

"That's it," Euijoo hissed through his teeth, burying himself inside you until he could go no further, groaning at the hot grip of your cunt. "Take all of it. I'm gonna fill you up."

You choked out his name, and your noises that followed were sharp and cut off by his rough thrusts jarring you on the dashboard. You were barely staying balanced on your tiptoes, your hips smacking into the counter's edge every time Euijoo shoved his cock in your pussy.

The hold on your hair was harsh enough, but Euijoo's other hand clamped around your throat like a collar. He kept you in place to endure his vicious strokes, like he was out to fuck you stupid.

You had no dignity to your name when it came to his dick slamming into you to the hilt, and so you begged, "Can I please come?"

Euijoo didn't fall out of rhythm, his eyes focused on where he disappeared inside you, your walls sucking him back in. "Give me a reason," he said, out of breath with his pace.

"That's your pussy," you told him submissively. "Only you can make me come."

Euijoo smirked briefly. That was the right answer.

Thinking you still didn't have him convinced, you whined, "I need to come on your dick. Please. I promise I'll never fight with you again."

"Oh, yes you will. If this is what you get out of it."

You couldn't help but giggle. He wasn't wrong. This was typically how you won every fight with Euijoo. It was hard for him to be mad at you when you were draining him dry.

Euijoo flexed his grip on your hair, still pinning you roughly to the dashboard. He kept snapping his hips into your ass, stuffing his cock balls deep in your cunt, and you took it like a champ. "You're such a good little cockslut," Euijoo sighed, his voice changing as he neared the edge. "Gonna put another load in you."

You almost came from his voice alone. Winding your arms behind your back, overlapping your wrists, making yourself so completely submissive to him he wouldn't be able to deny you, you said, "Make me come with you."

Euijoo groaned and drilled into you, barely getting out, "Come," before he was finishing, the warmth of his release coating your insides.

The moan that tore out of you was cut off at the peak of your orgasm, your lips parted on a silent scream. Your legs bent in the air, your toes curling, but Euijoo was pressed tight up against you, his body keeping you in place.

"Fuck," Euijoo grunted lowly, lingering on the word. He could feel your body clenching and kneading on him, your walls greedily milking every drop out of his dick. He blinked to clear his eyes and then shook his head to get the damp hair off his face, his knuckles aching as he released your ponytail to brush his hands down your waist, grabbing onto your hips and staring where his cock was buried inside you.

You went limp, slumping into the dashboard, both of you still throbbing and shivering. Pretty satisfied with yourself and how your body could fuck him up, you shimmied, making Euijoo hiss at you trying to stimulate his softening cock.

"Don't start," Euijoo chided, but his heart wasn't in it. And he still didn't pull out of you either.

Grinning victoriously, you kicked your feet up, trying to pinch his ass with your toes but he was too fucking tall. "You know no one else in the world could ever make you nut as hard as I do," you taunted, licking your lips.

"Yeah, I know."

You giggled.

Euijoo smoothed his hands up your sides, not stopping until he slipped them under you and palmed your breasts, giving them a squeeze. "This doesn't mean you won," he said darkly. "You got your revenge here. I'm getting mine at home."

Rolling your eyes, not that he could see from his place behind you, you retorted with delight, "Lucky me. I love your punishments."

Euijoo shook his head with a grin. There was no defeating you.

[lunegenic]

sleepover.

in which you're on vacation with euijoo and nicholas, and a dare leads to a very spicy night. or - the one where you have a threesome with your best friends. wc: 3k | notes: smut (don't like it? don't read it), both boys swear like sailors, no mxm action, also no butt stuff, some manhandling, euijoo gets rough, reader slaps nico during sexy time bc he likes it, minors do not interact!

Nicholas was convinced you would let Euijoo get away with anything, and he decided to test this theory on vacation.

"No way," Euijoo said, his eyes wide and his ears already turning red. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

"She'll let you do it," Nico argued, his face full of mischief. As always.

Euijoo shook his head. "If you want to hook up with her so badly, then just ask her."

Nico made a face and said, "Boring."

Euijoo rolled his eyes, but the seed was planted and he was thinking about it.

The three of you were enjoying a well-deserved vacation and had come back to your rental for the night. The bedroom had two queen beds and one sleeper sofa. It was a given you got one of the beds, leaving Euijoo and Nico to arm wrestle over who would be sleeping on the sofa.

Euijoo lost.

Nico opened the window between the two beds, letting a perfect breeze blow in carrying the salty scent of the ocean. You opened your bag and started rifling through your things, exhausted in the best of ways.

It had been a busy day of sight-seeing and eating, photographs and thrills. Memories you would carry for the rest of your life. You couldn't have asked for better friends than the two boys you seemed to take with you everywhere as you explored all the world had to offer.

The only downside was the single bathroom in the rental that would have to be shared by the three of you. After winning rock, paper, scissors, you got to go first, leaving Nicholas and Euijoo to scheme in your absence.

You were tired after a long evening at the beach with the boys. Resting on your stomach, you bunched a pillow between your arms and opened the lastest novel you'd been reading, letting it help you wind down.

Rare silence filled the room. Eventually, you clocked Nicholas and Euijoo watching you, their hair still damp from their showers.

"It's too quiet," you said after a moment, eyes still on the book. "Did you guys fight?"

"No, we're good," Euijoo replied hurriedly, looking to Nico for confirmation. You glanced over just long enough to watch the two of them nod awkwardly.

With a giggle, you teased, "Did you guys fuck?"

"What?" Euijoo exclaimed, while Nico said, "No," without missing a beat.

"Then, why are you being weird?"

"She knows us too well," Nico mumbled under his breath to Euijoo, but you heard and smiled. Nico turned to you and said, "I dared Euijoo to do something, but he's too scared of you to do it."

Euijoo made a face, insulted and flustered.

You scoffed, flipped the page of your book nonchalantly, and asked, "Why would Euijoo be scared of me?"

"I'm not."

"Just do the dare then. I'm not gonna bite you."

Euijoo's cheeks were getting redder by the second.

To be fair, you'd been best friends with Euijoo and Nicholas for many years. Yes, you flirted. Yes, you guys talked openly about everything. Yes, sometimes sexual tension started to arise.

So when Euijoo came over and crawled onto your bed, you didn't bat an eye. You read through another paragraph like it was nothing. But when he straddled your ass, framing your hips with his knees, you stopped and lifted your head.

"Nico, what the fuck are you up to?" you snapped, turning to look at your trouble-making friend lounging comfortably on the other bed.

Nicholas, to the surprise of no one, was leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head as if he were back at the pool. "I knew it," he said with a big devilish grin. "His dick is chilling between your ass cheeks right now and you're letting him get away with it."

"What did you want me to do - kick him?"

"Tell him to get off."

Something flickered across your face and you narrowed your eyes at Nicholas in a scowl before finally glancing over your shoulder at Euijoo, who was hovering above you. And you quickly realized he looked a little too good at that angle.

"Get off?" you asked, smirking. "Good choice of words, Nico."

The slightest panic raced across Nico's face and he knew then and there you were about to beat him at his own game, like you always did.

Propping up on your elbows, you turned your attention back to Euijoo, who had been gravely silent as if waiting for his fate to be decided, and asked, "You alright up there?"

Euijoo swallowed the lump in his throat. "Don't kill me. It was his idea." But frankly, Euijoo was so turned on he couldn't see straight.

You laughed and turned back to your book, saying, "Read this."

Euijoo leaned a little closer, his lips by your ear and you could hear every tense, labored breath he took. His cock was still nestled against your ass, half-hard now just from feeling the warmth of you.

You pointed to where you'd been reading and Euijoo's eyes widened in shock.

"Dude, she's reading porn!"

"No fucking way," Nico exclaimed in disbelief, getting up from the bed to investigate.

You flashed another glare at him and warned, "Nicholas, you come over here and you'll both regret it."

Nico very submissively walked backwards to his bed and flopped back onto the mattress in defeat.

Euijoo's heart was racing so hard you could feel it thumping through you. Giving him a little smile that promised either pleasure or retribution, he zeroed in on you like a heat-seeking missile.

"Keep reading," you said lowly.

Euijoo's gaze fell back to the page and not a second passed before you were moving underneath him. And his heart stopped altogether.

You rolled your ass against his clothed cock, arching so his length would feel your folds through your tiny shorts. You could feel him getting harder and that made you smug, but your focus soon became just how big he was and how far you were going to let him go.

"Fuck," Euijoo stuttered, his hips connecting with your ass in a sharp thrust.

It caught you by surprise. "Easy, Juju," you chided playfully when he snapped his hips against your ass again, a little harder this time, jarring you on the bed.

Euijoo stopped, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. "Sorry."

"Oh, come on," Nico said impatiently.

You checked on him out of the corner of your eye and taunted, "Enjoying the show?"

"Nothing's happened yet for me to enjoy."

You were never one to back away from a challenge, or for a chance to make Nico shut the fuck up. You could tell by his eyes that he wanted to be the one rubbing his dick against your pussy, and part of you was a little stunned when you realized you would let Euijoo fuck the shit out of you just to piss Nico off.

Tossing your book to the side, you reached back with both hands and shimmied your pants and underwear down slowly until your bare ass was on display.

"Your turn," you told Euijoo, shooting one more look at Nico. And you were thrilled to see he was burning alive with envy.

Never in a million years did Nico actually think you would let Euijoo fuck you just to spite him. And he was already thinking about all the angles he was going to hit it to punish you.

Completely oblivious to the silent exchange between his friends, Euijoo tugged down his sweatpants and freed his stiff cock, pumping it in his fist.

"Give me your hand," you said, turning slightly on your side.

Euijoo did as told and you brought two of his fingers into your mouth. Holding onto his heated gaze with your own, you sucked and licked his fingers until they were slick and then popped them out of your mouth.

"Put them in me," you whispered, glancing down at Euijoo's stiff cock that was so hard it curved toward his abs.

Euijoo glanced down at your plump ass and your perfect folds, and brought his wet fingers to your sex, slipping them inside your folds carefully. He found your entrance and pushed inside, making a little noise fall from your lips.

"Fuck," Nico growled as Euijoo stroked his fingers in and out of your cunt, a soft wet sound growing louder and louder with each stroke.

You whimpered as Euijoo worked you with his long fingers, gripping the pillow under your head with both hands. You were getting so fucking turned on by Nico watching from the other bed, staring at your pussy sucking in Euijoo's digits like he was about to start drooling at the sight.

That made your walls clench and Euijoo groaned, "Fuck, you're so tight."

"Take your fingers out, Juju," you said quietly, running out of patience.

"Why? Does it hurt?"

"I want your dick."

Euijoo pulled his fingers from you and coated his cock with your slick. He gave it a few more pumps of his fist as he resituated his knees on opposite sides of your hips, pressing close to you and fitting the head of his length between your folds.

When he started pushing inside, you felt your walls stretching to accept him, and you fisted the blanket beneath you. Oh, shit, you thought, wondering how the hell he was going to fit fully inside you. Not wanting to fill the room with your moans, you buried your face in the pillow to stifle your cries.

Euijoo listened to your little sounds and he kept stroking his cock into you, opening you up for him, sinking in deeper with each slow thrust into your wet, hot cunt. Once he was balls deep, he braced his hands on the mattress and moaned, "Fuck."

You lifted your head from the pillow and sucked in a gulp of air, whining, "Oh my god, Euijoo. You're so..."

Euijoo was long fucking gone over the way you'd just said his name. He immediately drew his hips back and slammed his cock back into you, making you jerk forward onto the pillow, wanting you to chant his name like that until your voice broke.

Nico watched Euijoo fuck you and his blood boiled. Euijoo was too soft; he pumped his cock in your pussy, but he didn't pull your hair or slap your ass, and Nico knew that was what you wanted. You needed hard and rough, and Euijoo was too in love with you to get it done.

"Juju, grab her by the throat," Nico snarled, his dick hard and already leaking in his pants. He made no moves to touch it; he wouldn't give himself any relief until you were taken care of.

Euijoo didn't hesitate to wind his hand around you, clamping it on your neck, beneath your chin. He tipped your head up and made your back arch, slapping his hips into your ass faster.

You didn't expect him to turn your face toward his so he could seal his lips on yours, stealing a kiss and tasting you for the first time. It made you mumble against his mouth and you wanted to tell him how good he made you feel, but the words wouldn't come.

All you could manage was a curse or two. "F-fuck," you whimpered, winching your eyes closed. You had to give credit to Euijoo, he knew how to use that big dick. His pace was savage, stuffing you with every inch of his cock until the wet slap of your pussy sucking him in filled the room.

Euijoo kept his grip on your neck, panting, "Is it too rough?"

Before you could say anything, Nico snapped, "Don't fucking ask that. She wants you to use her."

Lips parted, you finally willed yourself to look over at Nico and the way he was smoldering almost made you come. You liked him watching how well you could take it, wanting him to praise you, but instead, it seemed he already had you figured out.

So, you tried to rile him up. "Jealous?"

"Why should I be?" Nico shot back. "It's my turn next."

You scoffed. "You think you get a turn."

Euijoo groaned, "Can both of you shut up? I'm gonna come."

You'd never heard Euijoo so mad in your entire life, and both you and Nico smiled at having gotten that rare reaction out of him.

"Come, Juju," you whispered, gripping the edge of the mattress tight. The bed was creaking loudly. Euijoo was using you like his own personal toy, and you were eating it up. Your pussy ached in the best way, kneading his length.

Euijoo abandoned your neck to grab your hips, moaning and panting as he released inside you, milking every drop of cum deep in your cunt.

When Euijoo slowly pulled his softening cock from your hole, you slumped into the bed, catching your breath. He was barely off the bed and the mattress dipped under Nico's weight, his pants on the floor.

Nico grabbed your waist and flipped you harshly onto your back, and hissed, "You're gonna watch me take this shit."

You reeled your hand back and swatted him across the face, making a loud slap echo through the room. Nico grabbed your wrists and pinned them on opposite sides of your head, his pupils dilated to black.

"Fuck," Nico growled, smashing his lips on yours in a heated, hungry kiss. "Do that again when I'm inside you."

With Nico's hands around your wrists like cuffs, you hooked your legs on his hips and drew him close. He shifted his eyes down your body to your glistening pussy and notched his cock at your entrance, watching Euijoo's cum slip out.

"What are you waiting for?" you asked hurriedly. You were on the edge, sore and aching, close to orgasm.

"Permission."

You swallowed to wet your throat and when Nico lifted his head to meet your eyes, you sank a little deeper into the mattress under the weight of his gaze. "Fuck me, Nico," you whispered.

Nico pressed in, inch by agonizing inch, and watched your body arch as pleasure coursed through you.

"Nico," you gasped, eyes lolling back when the head of his cock hit your sweet spot.

"Yeah, my pretty little slut," he taunted, releasing one of your wrists to wrap his fingers around your neck. "Take all that dick."

The moment he canted his hips back and shoved his cock into you hard, you swiped your hand at his face again, but with half the force.

Nico tightened his grip on your throat while his other hand swiftly hooked in the bend of your knee and pressed you deeper into the mattress, throttling his cock into you at a steady rhythm like he was out to prove your pussy was his.

"How long have you been thinking about this, Nico?" Euijoo asked, sprawled on the other bed like he had zero strength left in his body.

"You have no fucking idea," Nico said gruffly as he kept his eyes where your bodies met, watching his cock vanish inside your tight velvet walls.

"Then fuck me like you mean it," you told him, holding onto his waist for purchase.

Nico looked at your pretty face, marveling just how beautiful you could be while getting fucked, and joked, "You just want another load of cum in you."

You nodded.

"You were made to be used like this, pretty girl."

You bit your lip and purred, "Use me, Nico."

So he did, sheathing his cock in your pussy over and over until finally all the tension that had been building inside you snapped, taking you over the edge into euphoria. You cried out and moaned, digging your nails into Nico's skin as your body shook, clamping down on his dick.

Nico came without warning, your cunt tightening on him so hard that he couldn't help but release inside you with a ragged groan. You were coming down from the high and went limp underneath him as the last of his seed filled you, making you feel warm and full.

Unlike Euijoo, Nico collapsed on top of you, his body heavy on yours. The two of you breathed in perfect sync, trying to come back to your senses. Once he'd stopped shaking, Nico clambered off of you and sat up, falling back against the wall so you could move.

You turned your head and saw Euijoo, who was on his stomach in the other bed, his eyes batting sleepily. When your eyes met, he smiled softly, as if to reassure you the frienship wasn't totally fucked now.

Nico, on the other hand, after seeing you and Euijoo exchange looks, reached over and palmed your naked thigh, stealing your attention. You turned to him expectantly and Nico said, "We both want you."

"And I want both of you," you replied honestly.

"You'll have to choose one day," Euijoo whispered, frowning despite how hard he fought it.

You sighed. "Not tonight though. Tonight, it's just the three of us. And nothing else matters."

That coaxed a smile out of Nico. He sat up and began gathering you in his arms, rising from the bed to lower you to the mattress beside Euijoo. You let yourself melt between them, happy when Euijoo pulled the blanket over the three of you and Nico laid beside you on the other side.

When they started pressing kisses to your cheeks and your neck, and their hands began wandering over your naked body like it belonged to them now, you closed your eyes and smiled, knowing you were fucked.

Because there was no way in hell you would ever be able to choose between your boys, and there was no one on earth that could convince you to live without them.

[neukdaez]

three times for the birthday b!tch

rating: explicit

members: nicholas, euijoo, yuma

notes: fem!reader, bf!euijoo, foursome, cheating undertones (no actual cheating), smoking, dom!euijoo, dom!nicholas, dom!yuma, unprotected sex, breeding, multiple creampies, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, humiliation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some praise, public sex, some mxm, euijoo is a cuck maybe

a/n: this is purely self-indulgent and a birthday gift from me to me (my bday was two days ago lol) anyways i'm going to hell. inspiration from this post i made.

you didn’t intend for any of this to happen, not really. 

but he was already there. nicholas has always been there. it was a running joke amongst you three that nicholas was the boyfriend and you were the side chick. that’s how close euijoo and his best friend are. so who can blame you for letting your eyes wander, even just a little bit, to the other man hanging off of your boyfriend’s shoulders?

it started out small. 

glimpses of nicholas’ skin when he takes his hoodie off. your shoulders brushing when you pass each other in euijoo’s cramped one-bedroom. eye contact that went on for too long when euijoo wasn’t looking.

you felt a gnawing in your chest whenever you’d turn over these memories in your head. what’s worse is that you liked replaying it over and over, analyzing and scrutinizing down to the millisecond.

did he feel it, too? 

nicholas, of course, noticed. nothing gets past him. you can see it in the glint in his eye when he catches you staring. there’s intention in the featherlight brush of his fingers against your elbow as he gently moves you out of his way. there is no other explanation for the light squeeze he gives to your side when he hugs you.

he was toying with you. and you were toying with euijoo. sneaking behind his back with all the filthy thoughts you were conjuring up, movies playing in your head with nicholas in the starring role. 

you love euijoo. more than anything. he’d do anything for you, and you did not take that for granted. 

but the thrill of the unknown, the pull of the unexplored urge–it called to you. like an itch that’s begging to be scratched. it tormented you for weeks, all your thoughts filled with nicholas, nicholas, nicholas. he was there every time you looked up, talking animatedly with your oh-so-clueless boyfriend. he was there on euijoo’s bedroom floor, half asleep, eyes meeting yours when you get up from bed to get a glass of water. euijoo mumbled for you to come back under the covers. you said you would only be a minute. 

nicholas was there when you turned around, glass in hand, not really thirsty. not for water, anyway.

“euijoo wouldn’t mind,” nicholas said. 

it angered you at that moment. how dare he? how dare he assume what your boyfriend would feel? 

more than anything, it infuriated you how willing you were to just accept it. 

yes, he wouldn’t mind. come fuck me over the sink.

you brushed past him, ignoring the delicious shiver that overtook your body as you did so.

-

“i don’t mind.”

euijoo mutters the words as you’re astride his lap, mid-makeout on his couch. you freeze, eyeing him, mortified as the conversation you had with his best friend last night comes flooding back. 

“what?” you whisper in disbelief.

euijoo shifts under you, his erection pressing against your core. you bite your lip to keep yourself from whining at the contact. his eyes lock in on yours, lids hooded as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips

“nico told me. about last night. about all the other times,” euijoo explains. he chuckles when he sees your eyes darting to the side, a sign that you were about to lie.

“it’s okay, baby. it’s fine if you wanna fuck my best friend.”

you feel like a ton of bricks has just slammed into you. your vision swims and you feel lightheaded. you’re convinced you’re about to collapse.

“w-what…?” you begin, unable to find the proper words to articulate your thoughts. 

euijoo tucks some of your hair behind your ear. his eyes peer into your own; his are the loveliest shade of brown, soft when he looks at you with the love you know only he can give. they harden now, mingled with mischief that you only ever see when he’s plotting something. 

“i wanna watch,” euijoo simply says. 

“i want to watch you fuck my best friend.”

-

if there’s one thing to know about your boyfriend, it’s that he always enables you. 

euijoo is your biggest cheerleader and supporter. in times when you doubt yourself, he’s ready to tell you that there's nothing to worry about. in your brightest moments, he is the first to catch you after the freefall, to tell you that you’ve been great, you were amazing, you were breathtaking. 

in everything you do, no voice rises higher than euijoo’s. and with your every whim, every beck and call, euijoo is there to answer.

even when your whims involve messing around with his best friend while euijoo jerks off to the side. 

“n-nico,” you choke out, face shoved into the mattress. nicholas grasps your hip tighter, his cock dragging relentlessly against your walls.

“what is it, princess? too much?” nicholas coos, voice mockingly sweet.

“but your boyfriend just started enjoying the show.”

at this, euijoo exhales, head thrown back as his hand moves faster around his own rock-hard cock. you attempt to turn, to look euijoo in the eye, but nicholas just forces your face even further into the bed. 

“behave,” he says. “take it like a good fucking girl.”

nicholas uses both hands to hold you in place now, plowing through your soaked hole as you scramble for purchase at the sheets beneath you. there’s a burning humiliation in the pit of your stomach, shame washing over you as you realize just how much you’re enjoying this. nicholas is thicker than your boyfriend and he’s stretching you out in ways euijoo has never done before. your boyfriend is just as gone as you are; his eyes are glazed over as he watches nicholas fuck the daylight out of you. 

“why didn’t you let me sample this pussy sooner, bro?” nicholas chuckled. he lands a hard smack to your ass and you whine. “she’s squeezing me so hard. how do you not cum inside every time?”

“i do,” euijoo breathes out. “she lets me cum inside each time and she fucking loves it.”

nicholas groans, falling forward as he hammers his way in and out of you. your face is hot, the knot in your stomach twisting even tighter. they’re talking about you so callously, like you’re to be used only for their pleasure. 

the thought makes you shiver. you’re so close. 

“euijoo,” you cry out, wanting your boyfriend’s hands on you. your hair is yanked back instead, the gasp in your throat cutting out as nicholas brings you up to press his chest to your back. one of his arms wraps around you while the other tugs you back by the arm. 

you’re fully at nicholas’ mercy. 

“come on,” nicholas urges, his thrusts growing sloppier. “need you to cum all over my cock. make it worth it for your cuck boyfriend.”

it’s a slap to the face, the way that this is what brings you over the edge. you let out a string of profanities mixed with nicholas’ name, your walls clenching almost painfully around him. nicholas grunts when he spills himself inside you, pumping into you a few more times to make sure his cum is pushed all the way in. 

he lets go of you and you slump onto the bed, trembling and ashamed and guilty and so fucking turned on.

you turn your head and you swallow down a moan when you see your boyfriend absolutely debauched. his cum splattered all over the front of his shirt, his hand covered in a mess of his own spunk. euijoo catches your eye and you visibly see him stiffen once more. 

“you guys are freaks,” nicholas laughs, leaning down to kiss your temple. he pulls you closer to him, fingers sliding between your folds. 

you writhe against his hold but he pins you down to the bed.

“thankfully, so am i.”

-

since then, euijoo had no qualms about sharing you with nicholas. though, the whole setup opens up a new set of questions, an ethics can of worms that none of you feel like tackling just yet. 

for now, the three of you are happy to fuck. even if it sometimes meant watching from the sidelines while euijoo finally let himself make out with his best friend. 

a wonder, truly, what a little intervention can do. 

and an intervention is exactly what you need because another problem arises when you meet the other side of the friend group. 

you knew euijoo’s and nicholas’ other friends well enough, seeing them whenever you tagged along to some of their outings. you’re not particularly close to any one of them, but you’ve had some good conversations in the past. it’s also not beyond you to admit that they’re all good-looking. 

and they’re all here tonight.

the music is loud in the club, bass shuddering through every cell in your body, but you’re about three vodka sprites in, so you don’t really mind. in fact, it’s nice, the melodies enveloping you while nicholas’ hand is on your shoulder, maneuvering you through the crowd. a safe enough placement, one that doesn’t raise questions or looks. you are still euijoo’s girlfriend, after all.

you don’t even remember who brought up the idea of going out tonight. it must have been nicholas, because this is more his scene than euijoo’s. but you’re enjoying yourself, and you visibly light up when the rest of their friend group comes into view.

“_______’s here!” nicholas announces to the cramped booth, gently nudging you to take a seat. you squeeze into the space between jo and yuma, your alcohol-muddled brain thankfully recalling their names just in time. 

“hi yuma, hi jo,” you greet, smiling at both of them. 

jo returns with a shy upturn of his lips while yuma stretches, placing his arm on the backrest behind your head to give you more space. 

“hey, _____,” yuma responds, leaning close as the music turns up again. 

“where’s euijoo?”

you turn to look at the other man, stopping short when your noses almost brush. his eyes are bright up close, feline-like. you’ve only spoken to him a grand total of two times before, but the way his irises peer down at you makes your hands clam up. you blink, giggling nervously as you cup a hand around your mouth.

“getting drinks!” you say directly into yuma’s ear. 

he smells heavenly and you hope you’re subtle enough as you inhale, eyes fluttering slightly.

you pull back, squinting at him while the strobe lights go crazy above your heads. his face is illuminated with the different colors of the club, his eyes trained on your own features. yuma grins, his gaze dipping lower to survey your outfit.

“i like your dress,” yuma compliments, inching closer again.

“what?!” you call out over the music.

yuma chuckles, a hand sneakily sliding to your waist. his lips graze your ear as he says his next words. 

“i said i like your dress, pretty girl.”

you flush, jolting back. another tense laugh escapes you, your lips mumbling a halfhearted thanks. your heart is slamming against your ribcage and a flutter erupts in your belly. 

what is wrong with you?

just then, euijoo returns with the drinks and nicholas, who had taken a seat on the other side of the booth, immediately goes to whisper something in your boyfriend’s ear. they both glance at you and there’s a hint of mischief in nicholas’ eyes. euijoo, on the other hand, looks more inquisitive than anything.

nicholas lets euijoo go, who eventually finds his way to you, leaning down to give you a kiss. 

“hey, baby,” euijoo murmurs softly against your lips. 

“you wanna step outside for a minute?” he continues, pulling back and offering a hand to you. “we can take a smoke break.”

you take his hand in yours, the air feeling a little too stuffy all of a sudden. yuma’s eyes are still on you as you stand, his gaze unabashedly trailing down your figure. 

what you don’t see as you start walking is the brief, wordless exchange between euijoo and yuma. the younger smirks up at your boyfriend and euijoo merely raises his brows in acknowledgement. 

you and euijoo emerge into the back alley of the club, where a couple of other smokers are standing, heads bowed together as they converse amongst themselves. he steadies you on your ridiculously tall pair of heels, guiding you to the far end before pulling out the pack from his pocket. 

euijoo lights the stick that you place between your lips, leaning in further to drag his mouth down your neck as you take your first inhale. 

“euijoo…,” you sigh, blowing out the smoke into the chilly night air. he straightens and looks at you, eyes focused as if assessing something. 

“you like my friends, don’t you, baby?” euijoo says, more statement than question. 

you swallow, brows knitting together, mildly confused by the sudden declaration. 

“of course, i like your friends. they’re all really fun,” you supply. “why?”

“that’s not what i meant, angel,” euijoo clarifies, crowding into your space. he walks you backward toward the wall, his large hands resting on your hips to keep you in place. you drop your cigarette in surprise, cussing under your breath at the waste of a perfectly good smoke.

“you fuck nicholas on the regular. of course you’d think he’s fun,” euijoo continues, smirking when he sees you visibly stiffen at the mention of your…arrangement with nicholas. 

“th-that’s different, juju,” you stammer, pouting up at your boyfriend. “what are you getting at?”

euijoo slides a hand up your thigh, slipping his fingers beneath your dress. you gasp, head swiveling to the side to see if any of the other people out here can see you. to your surprise, it’s just you and euijoo out here. 

“anyone else you want to add to your roster?” euijoo questions with an arch of his brow. he hooks his thumb into the waistband of your underwear, tugging it down. 

“euijoo, n-!”

“no?” your boyfriend interrupts. he’s looking at you, towering over you, waiting for your response. his gaze figuratively shrinks you in size. stern, stoic.

he’s waiting to see if you’ll use your safeword, if the idea of letting him play with you out here is a hard no. 

“please,” is all you can say. 

euijoo yanks at your underwear, making you gasp as the fabric rips. it falls into a pathetic heap on the ground and he kicks it away, tongue clicking as he feels between your legs. you’re soaked because of course, you are. you can’t help it when you’re around him.

euijoo lightly presses his middle finger onto your clit and you shiver, hands clutching at his arms. he starts to stroke your cunt, gathering your wetness and spreading it around. 

“nicholas told me you practically let yuma grope you earlier. and you didn’t even try to stop him.” euijoo’s voice is quiet, but it’s rough around the edges. 

“that’s not true,” you say defensively. euijoo slips one finger into your leaking hole and you whine. 

“try again,” euijoo demands. he fucks you shallowly with his finger, watching you squirm as you try to keep yourself upright. 

“yuma told me he liked my outfit. that’s all,” you explain, grinding your hips against his hand, trying to create more friction. 

you realize anyone can walk out and see you like this. the tattered pink lace on the ground is evidence enough of what you’re up to. 

you can’t find it in yourself to care.

euijoo adds a second finger in and you almost sigh in relief. he starts to fuck you properly now, curling his digits against that spot within you. 

“he likes you, you know,” euijoo whispers, his other hand coming up to hold you by your chin. his grip is solid, tight enough to keep you still. 

“he told me himself some time ago,” he adds.

“so when he says he likes your outfit, he really means he wants to see you out of it,” euijoo concludes. the squelch of his fingers ramming in and out of your pussy is loud in the alleyway and a new wave of embarrassment washes over you. 

“i-i didn’t know!” you whine, nails digging into euijoo’s arms. he’s hitting all the right spots and you can feel yourself approaching your release. 

“of course you didn’t,” euijoo says through gritted teeth. 

“you want that, though, right? you want another one of my friends to have his way with you?”

you gasp, clenching around euijoo’s fingers as the words register in your mind. without meaning to, your hand reaches down to rub at your clit. you can’t help it. you need it. you need to cum. you’re just so desperate for it.

“yeah, that’s right. i fucking thought so,” euijoo mocks, sneering at your blissed-out face. 

euijoo pumps his fingers in and out of you a few more times before you’re cumming all over his hand. you feel tears slip down your cheeks as euijoo keeps you in place, watching as your whole face crumples in pleasure. he doesn’t stop even when you’re pushing his hand away in protest. 

your knees feel like jelly, and thankfully, euijoo finally lets you slump against him, spent and gasping from the intensity of your orgasm. 

euijoo wraps his arms around you, keeping you upright as you catch your breath and the rest of your bearings. he presses a kiss to your temple.

“your birthday’s coming up,” euijoo says. there’s a conspiratorial tone to his voice and you pull back just enough to look at him. 

“okay…?” you begin, waiting for euijoo to continue.

your boyfriend chuckles, smoothing down your dress, concealing any indication that you’ve gone full commando. 

“let’s talk about it later. but i have a feeling i already know what to get you.”

-

third time’s the charm, they say. and, indeed, this is the third time your boyfriend has bitched you out like some common whore. 

“happy birthday, baby,” euijoo greets, kissing down your neck, hands smoothing over your naked body. 

you move to wind your arms around him, but the bite of the handcuffs stops you from moving any further. you whine pathetically and you hear nicholas chuckle from the other end of the room. he’s the one to blame for these wretched restraints. 

“relax, baby,” nicholas drawls as he approaches the bed on which you lie. he kisses you fully on the lips, cradling your face gently. 

“let us do all the work, hm?”

you nod reluctantly, eyes wide as you look between your two lovers. 

your soon-to-be third one sits at the corner.

yuma eyes you hungrily from where he’s seated. you’re completely bare, a feast before his eyes. 

euijoo approached him with a proposal immediately after that night at the club. you and your boyfriend had talked at length about it, gauging both your interest and capacity for yet another unexplored facet of your sex lives. 

“can he keep coming around even after my birthday?” you had asked.

euijoo smiled at you then, pinching your cheek playfully. 

‘if you want him to. but you’re getting so greedy, babe,” euijoo had said with an incredulous laugh.

you rolled your eyes at him, toying with the ends of his hair near the nape of his neck. you tugged just enough to have euijoo humming in contentment. 

“baby, it’s your fault for spoiling me.”

euijoo’s voice snaps you back to the present, his hand leaving a warm trail down your outstretched leg. 

“let’s let our newcomer have a go first.”

yuma grins as he pushes off his chair, approaching you like a tiger on the prowl. the bed dips where he kneels over you, his eyes raking over every inch of your body. 

“you’ve been keeping this to yourselves?” yuma asks, giving a low whistle. “don’t mind if i do.”

“play with her nipples,” nicholas directs. “she likes that.”

yuma smiles at you, reaching over to roll both your stiff buds between his fingers. you buck up at the contact, handcuffs rattling against the headboard. 

“she’s a sensitive one, isn’t she?” yuma observes, ducking down to take one into his mouth. you moan, squirming under his touch. 

yuma flicks his tongue harshly against your nipple, his hand sliding down between your legs. you whimper, thighs automatically parting for him. 

“is she always this easy?” yuma asks, grinning up at you with your nipple still between his teeth.

“yes, she is,” euijoo confirms. you turn to him, eyes pleading as yuma slips two fingers in one go. you moan, hips already chasing after yuma’s hand.

euijoo just snickers at your helpless expression. 

“you wanted this, babe. don’t come crying to me now.”

yuma pulls away from your chest and hurriedly levels his face with your pussy. he licks the two fingers that were just in you, groaning when he gets a taste of your arousal. 

“fuck, she tastes good,” yuma says, sucking his fingers clean of you.

the way they’re talking around you and not to you adds to the thrill building up in your belly. it’s mortifying, being laid out like some prize for them to take. but you like it. god, you like it so much. 

your restraint clatters loudly once more when you feel yuma seal his mouth over your core, zeroing in on your clit. he wastes no time, sucking and licking all over. 

“yuma!” you cry out. 

he hums against your pussy, eyes fluttering shut as he feasts on your soaked folds. euijoo and nicholas watch from separate seats, hands palming the bulges in their pants. 

you whine and whimper and beg, grinding your hips against yuma’s eager mouth. he leaves you on the edge, working you to your limit. one moment, he’s sucking hungrily on your clit, the next, he’s plunging his tongue deep inside you. your head spins as you try to keep up, but it’s already too much. yuma shakes his head side to side, lapping messily at your core. a broken whine leaves your lips.

your wrists protest as you strain against the handcuffs again, your body seizing up as your orgasm crashes down on you unexpectedly. yuma doesn’t let up and you’re left to sob, to plead for him to stop.

but you don’t really want him to stop. 

“stay fucking still,” yuma curses against your quivering cunt. he continues to eat you out, as if he hadn’t just shattered you less than thirty seconds ago. 

it hits you like a freight train when you cum again, twitching and begging yuma to please stop, no more, no more!

you can hear euijoo and nicholas’ moans and grunts but your vision blurs from the back-to-back orgasms. you can vaguely make out their hands furiously pumping up and down their cocks as they watch you unravel under yuma.

yuma resurfaces, thankfully, mercifully, leaning down to kiss you hard. you taste yourself on him and he makes sure you get a good mouthful, his tongue slipping in between your lips as he sloppily makes out with you. 

he pulls away just enough to discard his bottoms and underwear, cock already stiff and eager. he’s similar to euijoo, but his tip curves ever so slightly. you lick your lips, impatient to have yuma inside you. 

he angles himself against your waiting hole, slipping just the tip in first, both of you sighing at the first stretch. 

“god, you make the prettiest sounds,” yuma praises before kissing you again. he pushes all the way in and you squeal against his lips. 

yuma fucks like an animal in heat, loud and unrestrained. he grunts in your ear, pounding into you while you gasp and sob from the sensation. your arms and wrists hurt but your entire body is alight with pleasure, yuma’s dick dragging deliciously against your walls. 

“fuck, look at you,” nicholas’ voice drifts into your consciousness. he’s standing by the left side of the bed, still jerking himself off to the sight of you and yuma. 

“i get why euijoo’s addicted to seeing you get fucked by other guys,” nicholas adds with a breathless laugh.

“shut up,” comes euijoo’s response from the right side of the bed. his arm reaches over to tug nicholas closer to him. their lips meet in a heated kiss and both their hands speed up around their cocks. 

“woah,” yuma chuckles, grunting with the effort of sliding in and out of you while you’re clamped down around him. “gotta get in on that action later.”

you whimper in response, too fucked out to formulate any audible words. nicholas and euijoo pull away from each other and yuma takes this opportunity to pause, adjusting his stance, bracing his knees firmer on the bed. he takes your legs and throws them over his shoulders, folding your knees to your chest.

your eyes roll into the back of your head at the new angle, yuma reaching deeper into you. you don’t think either euijoo or nicholas had even reached that deep into you before. 

you feel yourself hurtling towards yet another orgasm as yuma slams into you over and over again. your fists are clenched, your body tense from the unnatural position, but the coil in your abdomen grows taut, tighter and tighter with each thrust from yuma.

it’s like a dam breaking when you finally cum again, a cry ripping from your throat as the world goes white. yuma’s hips stutter, then he stops altogether, cumming inside you a moment later. he presses your knees even harder against your chest, making sure not one drop of him escapes you. 

“shit, move, i wanna cum inside her, too.”

you hear euijoo’s frantic voice first before you feel yuma abruptly pull out. a second later, euijoo pushes in, and you sob from the sudden intrusion. euijoo ekes out three cursory thrusts before he’s spilling himself in you. 

“holy fuck,” nicholas whines. “fuck, fuck, fuck, get out, juju–”

all you can do is whimper when nicholas slots himself inside you, filling you up yet again with hot, sticky cum. he starts to move once he’s relieved, fucking his, euijoo’s, and yuma’s cum further into your messy pussy. 

you feel warm lips press against your forehead, pulling you back to this plane of existence. at least partially.

“still with us, angel?” you look up to see euijoo eyeing you carefully. you smile tiredly at him, nodding.

“yeah,” you affirm.

“good,” euijoo responds almost too quickly. 

“your birthday’s not over yet, my love.”

[pineappleonmyburger]

Prove Me Wrong - No Escape

series, part 8

pairing: fuma x reader

genre: smut smut smut smut smut

CW: hard!dom fuma, sub/dom dynamics, use of a color system, rough sex, unprotected pinv (no no), fuma cums inside reader, lots of teasing, foreplay, use of restraints (rope), pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), fuma makes reader call him “sir,” orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, use of a sex toy, a little degradation, choking

word count: 4,485

synopsis: you express your worries and stress to euijoo and nicho during a scheduled movie night. then, it’s fuma’s turn. and he’s not going easy on you.

note: posting it a day earlier bc this may be one of my favorite parts yet 😭 so down bad for fuma

also unbelievably sad that there’s only a few more parts to go in this series, i’m so attached 🥺

series masterlist

The rest of the night with Maki was gentle and easy. Maki has always lightened the room, his humor and personality making any situation bright and comfortable, and this was no different.

That was four days ago. This time your busy schedule was getting in the way of the fun you’ve been having with your best friends. You’ve been working nonstop on multiple projects for work, barely even leaving your apartment. You’re dying for a break, but your own brain wont let you until you’re satisfied with the work you’ve finished. Luckily, however, you’ve had a movie day planned with Euijoo and Nicho for a week, so you can stop at least enough to let off some steam.

Things have felt different since this “bet” began. When it started, you were terrified that it’d change your friendships in a negative way. But if anything, you feel closer to them, more bonded. The only worry in your brain now is that you are getting a little too attached to some of them, if not all of them. You wonder how this is going to end, how you’re going to move on from having sex, forming physical and emotional connections, to just being friends like before. With your mind racing, you hear a knock on your front door.

“Coming!” You shout, hopping up from the couch, feet shuffling quickly to open the door for them, heart pounding for some reason. You shouldn’t be nervous, you, Nicho, and Euijoo have movie marathons often, so why are you? Your hand shakes slightly as you turn the knob, greeted by two overly enthusiastic smiles.

“Hi, baby!” Euijoo says, cheeks red and grinning like an angel. You light up immediately just from their presence, the stress and anxiety from the past few days almost disappearing in an instant. Nicho hugs you as you back up, letting them in the door, Euijoo closing it from behind as they enter. He picks you up from the hug and you yelp.

“Nicho! Put me down!” You kick playfully, feeling like a kid with school crush. Their turns were over, so why are they still treating you like you’re more than friends? It isn’t necessarily a question you want the answer to, not yet, because you’re enjoying it a little too much. He plops you gently on your couch, settling on your right, Euijoo on your left.

“So what do you wanna watch?” Euijoo questions, both of them awaiting your answer, eyes locked on you from the side, close enough that your bodies are all touching.

“Anything that doesn’t require thinking.” You reply with a sigh, body still tense from the overload you’ve been dealing with, and new reason, their touch. The boys notice, a sudden look of concern in their eyes.

“Are you okay?” Nicho asks, taking your hand in his, giving you his full attention as he sits down the remote. “We’ve missed you, ya know?”

“I’ve missed you all, too. Work has been up my ass about finishing a project, and then gave me another to start on top of it. Feel like I’m drowning.” You chuckle as you finish, trying to lighten the load of your words and stress. “Plus, this is stupid, but I’ve been in my head about the last few turns. I’m nervous. More than usual.” You take a deep breath, not meaning to ramble on. Euijoo’s hand caresses your back comfortingly, both of them listening intently. Your heart flutters, just knowing they care. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you. It just kinda came out.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. That’s what we’re here for.” Euijoo starts, continuing to run his hand along your back. “As for work, knowing you, you’ve probably worked nonstop the last four days, you deserve a break. They can wait. It’s not life or death.” He carries on, Nicho nodding next to you.

“As for our situation, the last few are Fuma, Kei, and Taki. Which are you nervous for?” Euijoo begins again, the answer coming slowly, not even exactly sure yourself.

“All of them, really.” You mutter, voice coming out hoarse and shy. You don’t add on that you’re also nervous because you’re not sure if you want this to end. Nicho lets out a “huh,” like he’s surprised by your response.

“Okay, do you know why? Like what are you nervous for?” Nicho finally speaks, determined to dig deeper into this anxiety and make you feel better. Euijoo leans his body in closer to yours, hand wrapping around your back, resting on your other side.

“Fuma is a little intimidating. I mean on one hand he’s a precious thing and I wanna put him in my pocket..” You establish, the boys both shooting you a confused look, laughing at the odd admission. “But I have a feeling he flips a switch when it comes to sex. Like it’s gonna be really intense.” The boys are quiet for a moment, trying to decide the best words to say moving forward, instead, you take the opportunity to continue confessing your thoughts. “With Kei, I don’t think I’m as nervous, but he can be scary too. Especially with how close we are. And Taki…” You pause for a moment, the boys studying your face, trying to read your ideas before they leave your mouth. “He’s just so unpredictable. He’s a chaotic little ray of sunshine. I genuinely have no idea what he’s gonna be like.” You lie your head back against the couch after you’ve admitted your worries.

“You wanna take this one?” Nicho says, smiling over at Euijoo and you chuckle, like you’re their own project to take care of and praise. Euijoo nods before speaking.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Fuma will show you something intense. But good intense, y/n. From what we’ve seen, and what the others have said, you’re going to love it. I know you will.” He tilts your head towards him with his hand as he speaks, making sure you really hear his words, trying to comfort you. You latch your eyes on his, even though it makes you nervous, and your heart beats faster.

“For Kei, I know you can handle what he gives you. You’re close to us two too, and if anything, this has made us closer. Right?” Nicho starts, you swing your head to face him this time as he speaks, and you nod. It feels nice that they acknowledge that feeling as well. “And Taki…” He chuckles before continuing. “Taki is a menace. You know that. Expect nothing less. But baby, he’ll surprise you too I promise.” He turns his body to face you, legs crossed, and you look at him and Euijoo with tenderness, softly smiling at them both.

“I think you need to not put it off anymore. It’s been four days, your body is used to um..having fun more often than that, now.” Euijoo smirks at you, turning his body to mirror Nicho.

“And you know what they say, sex is a good stress reliever.” Nicho winks at you and you hit his chest playfully, all three of you giggling. A quiet, but comfortable silence ensues before you speak again.

“Ugh, you’re right. Thanks. I love you guys.” You place quick pecks on both of their cheeks, leaning back into the couch, leaving them flustered. “Now turn on something good.” You end up with your upper half in Euijoo’s lap, your legs flung over Nicho. All three of you tangled up together in comfort.

About halfway through the movie your phone begins to vibrate, Nicho smirks beside you as you pick it up to answer, a familiar name across the screen.

“Uh-Hi” You utter, probably barely loud enough for him to hear on the other side of the line.

“Hi, princess. I’ll pick you up at 7. Dress nice, I’m taking you out.” Fuma speaks softly but firmly, leaving no time or place for questions.

“Okay, wait what should I wear ?” You try and ask, but he quickly replies.

“You’ll figure it out. Can’t wait.” You can practically hear the smug look on his face over the phone, and the line goes dead.

~~~~~─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──~~~~~

When Fuma arrives at your apartment you can hardly think straight. Your heart is pounding, cheeks flushed, hands sweaty as you reach to open the door. Time almost moves in slow motion as you open the door, your eyes meeting his immediately. His white button up accents his toned body underneath, and your breath hitches at the sight of his beauty. He looks you up and down, admiring the short, but tasteful, dress you’d chosen.

“You look incredible. Gonna be hard to control myself until later.” He finally speaks, the insinuation of his need for you taking you by surprise. As you usually do, you decide to lead with confidence, channeling the nervous energy into something more powerful. You step out in front of him, closing your apartment door behind you.

“You don’t have to wait until later, Fuma.” You lean your body in close, and his jaw tightens, eyes scanning you once again. “We can go right now if you want.” You smirk up at him, trying to read his thoughts. He’s wearing his glasses. Those damn glasses. You’ve often thought to yourself before that no one should look that good just because of glasses.

“As much as I want to, there’s some stuff I want to discuss with you first.” He says, wrapping his right hand around your waist, pulling you closer before he continues or you can ask questions. “But believe me, you’ll be lucky if there’s a shred of that dress left when I’m done with you.” He tilts your head to meet his gaze, eyes locked on his chest beforehand, and your breathing quickens, his words already causing an ache deep within you. As if it were nothing, he playfully kisses you on the cheek, quickly grabbing your hand and leading you behind him. Your mind races once again, his actions already alluring to what will, according to Euijoo and Nicho, be an “intense” night.

The car ride is more comfortable, like normal. The Fuma you see every day, the Fuma that makes you want to squeeze him tight and never let go. When you arrive at the restaurant you’re impressed by the details he’s put into this. The hostess sits you in a reserved corner, barely anyone else in sight. The table is decorated with a small bouquet of flowers and a candle. It feels like a date, like a real date. As the night goes on he remains his lovely self, not the Fuma that you were nervous about, but one that’s familiar. As you finish eating, you admire the effort once again.

“This was too much, Fuma, seriously. You didn’t need to do all of this. I’ve practically been a play-thing for you all this past week, not a girlfriend.” You admit, a little taken aback by his choice to give you the whole nine yards experience.

“You’re more than that and you know it. Plus, like I said, I wanted to talk about some things first.” He reminds you, your nerves returning as the topic comes up again. “You know I love you right? We all do.” He continues. You and the boys said you loved each other all the time, but the mention of it this time felt different.

“Yeah, of course.” You hesitate slightly, not sure exactly where this is going or what he could be getting at.

“Good. Because tonight, it may seem like I don’t.” His gaze darkens as he speaks, the air in the room suddenly feeling tighter.

“W-what do you mean?” You question, trying not to show your timidness to him, still wanting to portray yourself as confident, like before.

“There’s things I’m going to do tonight that are probably new to you. Things that are intense. Things I know you’ll enjoy. But you have to trust me. Okay?” He instructs, his tone of voice sounding like he’s desperate for you to agree.

“I do trust you.” You nod, wondering what it could be that he’s going to do that has him worried enough to have this conversation with you. “Seriously, Fuma. You’re not going to hurt me.”

“I know, baby.” He scoots closer, his hand resting on your thigh underneath the table. His touch gives you chills, cheeks hot from the pet name. “Just know that everything I do tonight, is for your pleasure. Believe me, I’m going to make you feel so good, princess. Even if, at times, it’s difficult.” He caresses your thigh as he speaks. Everything finally clicks together and Euijoo’s voice echos in your head.

“Some of them aren’t as nice as me, sweetheart.”

It was Fuma he was talking about. Then, you suddenly remember him playfully joking that Fuma would like the way you begged. If you were nervous before, now it’s dialed up by ten, but the excitement in the unknown has your dripping in your panties at the same time. You’re in for a long night.

“You ready?” Fuma asks, interrupting your millions of thoughts. He stands next to you, offering his hand to help you up. His hand never leaves yours as he guides you back to his car. The car ride to his dorm is quieter than the ride to the restaurant. Not an awkward quiet, but a silence filled with need and tension. His hand stays in the small of your back the entire walk to his dorm, the possessive gesture sending a new wave of desperation through your body. He unlocks the door with ease, letting you in first, closing the door harshly behind him. You kick off your shoes, spinning on your heels to face him. He steps forward, closing the gap between you with a look of authority.

“Fuma” You breathe out, wanting to feel him, wanting anything. He pushes his body against yours, his right hand caressing your chin, lifting your head so your eyes meet his. He pulls you in, his full lips dancing against yours like it was a normal occurrence. He kissed you methodically, like he was on a mission, tongue diving into your mouth, not asking for permission. You melt into him, hands beginning to glide down his sides. He pulls back immediately, breath hot and heavy, and you whine from the loss of contact.

“First rule. No touching, baby. Not unless I give you permission. Got it?” You furrow your eyebrows, not sure why he wouldn’t want you to touch him.

“But-“ You try to argue, hands reaching up for his face, but you’re quickly interrupted. He grabs a hold of your wrists with such force it takes you by surprise. You’re convinced now that he’s serious.

“Be a good girl, princess. Good girls listen.” Fuma throws your hands back down to your sides, smirking at your look of neediness and apprehension. He runs his hands all over your clothed body.

“O-okay. I’ll be good, Fuma. Just please, do something.” Your voice comes out shaky, almost fearful of what might be to come.

“Second rule..” He begins, placing his hot, wet mouth on your neck, producing a moan from you as he continues. “You will address me as sir. And sweetheart, I don’t like being told what to do.” His left hand grasps tightly around your throat, replacing his mouth, proving to you that he is the one in charge. “Do you understand?”

“Yes..” You whisper, voice strained through the strength of his hand and the pressure he’s applied.

“Yes, what?” He spits out at you through gritted teeth, angry that you’ve already forgotten the rules.

“Yes, sir.” You reply, and lets his hand fall from your throat. Before either of you can say anything further, he scoops you up in his arms. His grip tight on your legs, his strength only turning you on more. He sits you on the edge of his bed, and you look up at him standing before you, so close that he’s situated between your knees. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Strip completely and lie back.” He instructs, standing before you like a wolf admiring its prey before it attacks. Your nerves are through the roof, his harsh eyes glued to every inch of your body. You pause for a moment, but you’re determined to please him.

“Yes, sir.” You utter, reaching your hands behind your back to reach the zipper of your dress. You slide it down slowly, his eyes still burning holes through you. You stand at the end of the bed, not far from him, letting the dress fall to your feet, leaving you in nothing but a black thong, the dress not allowing space for a bra. His jaw tightens immediately, eyes trailing up and down. A sudden wave of insecurity washes over you, you bring your hands up to cover your breasts.

“Uh uh. You’re beautiful princess. Don’t you dare cover yourself.” His voice is stern, and you listen immediately, your hands falling back to your sides. “Good girl.” He continues, the praise sending a bolt of desire straight to your core. You hook your fingers under the sides of your panties and you slide them down, the wet spot evident, Fuma’s eyes finding it quickly and he smirks. You sit back on the bed, crawling to the center, lying back. He walks over to his closet, pulling out multiple loops of rope. You lean up on your elbows, watching him unspool the rope from around his hand. “Remember the color system, baby?”

“Yes..” You insist, almost forgetting the rules once again. “Yes, sir.” You repeat, this time with the title he craves. He walks over to the bed, the rope in hand. He leans you forward, bringing the rope along the top of your breasts, along your chest, then crossing the rope in an “x” behind your back. He then brings it back to your front, just underneath your breasts, along your abdomen. Your breath is uneven, knowing you’ll be full restrained, fully at his mercy. He then brings the rope up to your neck, wrapping it around twice, making sure it’s not too tight, but tight enough that too much resistance will apply pressure. He ties it expertly, your mind wandering to how often he’s done this to do it so easily.

“Wrists.” He says sternly, authority in his voice. You comply, holding your wrists forward. He uses another piece of rope to wrap around your wrists, binding them together, then pulling them above your head, securing them to the headboard. You wiggle slightly, testing the restraints, and he chuckles deeply at you. He walks around the side of the bed to your feet. “Spread.” He demands, once again you follow instructions immediately. He uses more rope to tie your ankles to the sides of the bed frame, laying you out on full display for him, completely under his control. He stares at you for a moment, the bulge beneath his pants growing significantly seeing you at his mercy. He sits next to you on the bed, his hands snaking down your body, his touch light as a feather.

“F-fuma, please.” You plead, needing more. His hand comes down across your breast, the smack shocking you, pain mixing with pleasure and you moan.

“Who? What’s my name, princess?” He chuckles darkly, seeing you writhe under your restraints, already so desperate.

“I’m s-sorry, sir.” You whine, his fingers trailing around your nipples, twisting and pinching at them, the pain making you soak onto the sheets.

“Look at you, so desperate already.” He taunts, fingers now sweeping towards your aching cunt, your hips bucking forward, needing his fingers on you quicker. When he reaches your pussy, he runs two fingers through your folds just once, you moan loudly, finally getting the attention you seek. He examines his fingers, your arousal soaking them. “My little whore is soaking wet.” He begins again, the degrading name causing your cheeks to flush red. He stands, going to his closet once again, your eyes following him. He returns to you with something in his hand. A vibrating wand. Your mind is reeling, body desperate for relief. He’s back over to you in an instant, switching the vibrator on, the faint buzzing fills the room. Your stomach twists with anticipation. He brings the wand to your throat, letting you feel the vibration, the intense sensation making you whimper, even without it where you needed it. He drifted down your body, the vibrator circling your nipples slowly, teasing you more.

“S-sir. P-please, I need more.” You call out, hoping he relieves you of your torment, but you have a feeling he’s just getting started.

“What is it, baby? What do you need?” He snickers, a smirk plastered across his face. The wand trails down your abdomen, pausing just above your waistline.

“More, please!” You whimper, and he finally places the vibrator directly onto your aching clit. You nearly yelp, the need fueling a the knot somehow already forming deep within your stomach. You squirm uncontrollably, the restraints not letting you move much. He applies more pressure with the wand, feeling the vibration deep throughout your entire body. Your moans spill frantically, already driving you close to the edge. “So c-close, fuck!” The second your words exit your mouth, Fuma pulls the vibrator off of you.

“Awh, princess. Didn’t think I was gonna let you cum that easy, did you?” He jeers, twirling the wand in his hand, knowing the power he holds.

“No, no, no! Please, Fuma!” You cry out, knowing your mistake immediately, and he slaps your sensitive cunt for forgetting his rule. After a few moments, he brings it back to your clit, the sensation even stronger this time, your hips bucking again. “Fuck!” You groan, terrified of letting yourself get close again, not wanting to be edged once more. A single tear falls down your cheek, the despair evident to Fuma.

“Color?” He questions, wanting to make sure you’re still okay. Your brain is clouded with pleasure, with the need to climax, so you hesitate to respond. He turns down the vibration level, not wanting to stop, but intent on getting an answer. “Baby, you okay?” He continues, body looking over you as he caresses your head, wiping away the tear. “I need an answer, sweetheart.”

“Yes, fuck. Green, sir. Please don’t stop.” You reply, and he smiles smugly, kissing the wet spot on your cheek before turning the intensity back up, your back arching immediately. Fuma kisses down your upper body, stopping only for a moment at your breasts, his hot mouth surrounding your nipples.

“Cum for me sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear after kissing back up your body. His words send you over the edge, your body shaking out of control as you cum. “That’s it. Such a good little whore.” He praises, your thighs convulsing, your arousal seeping from your opening, desperate to be filled.

“I-it’s too much. I can’t!” You whine from overstimulation, the wand still vibrating mercilessly against your clit. He rubs it down against your opening, your wetness coating the head before he brings it back to your clit.

“You can and you will. I want another one, princess.” He grits his teeth and moves his body down, placing himself between your legs. He keeps the vibrator on your clit, his fingers toying with your aching hole. He plunges two fingers into you, curling them up, quickly finding your sweet spot. Your back arches again, struggling against your restraints, moans and whimpers escaping you. He thrusts his fingers up against your gspot repeatedly, making you reach the edge even quicker this time.

“I-I..” Is all you can mumble, mind fogged, clearly not able to think straight. “Gonna cum, shit!” You cry out, his fingers moving quickly inside of you as the wand continues to vibrate. Your orgasm hits you like a truck, liquid spraying out of you, soaking the sheets underneath you. You nearly scream, feeling like you’re going to black out from the overload of pleasure. Your legs continue to tremble as he removes his fingers from your aching hole, switching off the wand and throwing it to the side of the bed. His fingers glisten with your arousal, and he brings them up to your mouth.

“Suck.” You obey, circling your tongue around his fingers, humming with satisfaction with the taste of yourself. He groans with the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. “Such a good girl. I think my good girl deserves a reward.” He says, unbuckling his belt.

“Yes, sir, please.” You whine, needing to feel him inside of you. He pulls his belt through the loops in one fluid motion, letting it fall to the floor. He unbuttons his pants, unzipping and pulling them down. He slowly undoes his white button up, teasing you again while you watch, his body leisurely unveiling itself to you. He stands before you in only his boxers for just a moment, a wet spot apparent from precum, making your mouth water. He climbs onto the bed, hovering over you, kissing you again with force that conveys his need. His rubs his clothed erection over your pussy, making you moan into his mouth. He leans up on his knees, tugging his boxers off, his thick, hard cock red and angry. His girth takes you by surprise as he aligns himself with your entrance.

“Color?” He asks once again, pausing before entering you. You nod assuredly, utter a quick “green,” smiling at him with desire. He circles your opening with his cock, gathering your arousal before entering you steadily. You wince at the stretch, angling your hips upward to give him easier access. He leans down over you, right arm wrapped around your head, elbow resting just above your shoulder. Once he’s fully inside of you, he pauses, groaning at the way you squeeze him.

“Please, fuck me, sir. Please” You plead and he smirks down at you, removing himself from your cunt before thrusting back into you harshly. Your entire body tugs against the ropes from the intensity of his thrusts. You wail from the pleasure, his cock curving just right inside of you, making you see stars.

“Christ, y/n you’re so damn tight.” He clenches his jaw, desperate to maintain control. He grabs your thighs with his hands, sure there will be fingerprints there tomorrow from the brutality. He leans your thighs forward, hips rotating slightly as he continues to fuck you hard and fast, the slight change in position making his length go over deeper.

“S-so close” You whisper, barely able to form a thought, let alone verbalize it. The room filling with the sound of skin slapping.

“Not yet, baby. Hold it. Wanna see you go dumb on my cock first.” He grins, moaning while trying to keep his composure. You whine, not sure if you can, but you try for him. He fucks into you harder and his left hand snakes up to wrap around your throat, applying a mind boggling amount of pressure on the sides. Your eyes roll back, body so exhausted you can’t even resist against the restraints anymore. “There it is. Look at you, cock drunk. So fucking beautiful.” He feels you clench around him, body close to orgasm. “Let go, princess. Cum with me.” With his permission, your body seizes, pussy contracting around his cock, making him spill deep inside of you at the same time. He cums with a deep growl, his name exiting your mouth over and over as you come down from your high.

“Shit…Fuma..” You whimper, hoping the use of his name doesn’t set him off now. He stays buried inside of you for a moment, kissing you long and hard, lips feeling swollen from his attention. “I want to feel you, please.”

“Hold on, baby.” He hops up quickly, pulling on his boxers and untying every rope that’s currently holding you down and open for him. He throws the ropes across the room as he unties each one and he quickly gets back on the bed, pulling you into his lap. Your body collapses into his, body weak from multiple orgasms and being taken control of. “I’ve got you.” He says, holding your head against his chest. You look at your wrists, the red marks from the restraints visible.

“You broke me.” You giggle through the words, fingers trailing over the marks on your wrists and ankles. He picks up your wrists, kissing around the red marks, making you beam with delight at his attention, so different from the version of him you saw not long ago.

“I think you’ve broken us, sweetheart.” He admits. At any other time, you’d let that thought invade your mind, wondering what he meant, but for now, you lean into him further, body curled tight against his and you drift off in his safe arms.

@hyunjincanraptoo @bulnoriyash @bunny-2473 @skylarwrite @hyunniesprincess @yumi-yearns @teenagebrainrot @lacedwithmsg @shrutogrey @iconicallyher @kkzldk @worldsanna @luv4jaeyun @ryvannanightshade-kpop @mathewaninkorelikumasi @yasmincansstuff @meoriapedua99 @nichobby @jisunggy @jun1perf1nch17

[lunelillii]

[lunenet]

yuma ✶  𝑓. reader  ───  ᛫‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎warnings. rough sex , unprotected sex , pnv , dirty talk , multiple positions , marathon sex , creampie , multiple positions , multiple orgasms , overstimulation , degradation ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎𓋰‎‎  ‎‎word count. 1076 ┊•⠀‎‎  masterlist  ‎‎ ‎‎

( custom order  🧾 ' ) i got this as a request and it immediately made me think of jas ,, so this is kinda dedicated to the birthday girl hehe ! thank u nonie for idea

you weren’t close.

that was the first thing anyone in the group would say if asked. you and yuma existed in the same orbit—harua’s orbit, mostly—because harua collected people the way other people collected stamps. you’d known each other for almost two years through group dinners, late-night convenience store runs, and the occasional karaoke disaster. you knew he took his coffee black and disgusting. he knew you always stole the last piece of karaage. that was the extent of it.

until the complaining started.

it began as background noise.

one night at the izakaya near campus, three beers in, you’d muttered into your glass about how you were going to lose your mind if you didn’t get laid soon. high sex drive, no patience for apps, zero interest in catching feelings with strangers. yuma, two seats down, had snorted like he related a little too hard.

harua had just stared at both of you.

the next week it happened again. different izakaya, same complaint. you’d been half-joking about how your vibrator was starting to feel like a roommate. yuma had groaned into his hands and said something about his right hand developing carpal tunnel.

harua’s eye had twitched.

by the third time—sunday afternoon, everyone’s living room floor covered in empty chip bags and half-watched anime—harua finally snapped.

“i swear to god,” he said, pointing a chopstick at both of you like a weapon, “if i have to listen to either of you whine about being horny one more time, i’m going to lock you in a room together and throw away the key.”

yuma laughed. you laughed.

harua did not.

two days later harua texted the group chat:

harua

y/nnie~~ come study with me at me n yuma’s pleaseeee. 7pm >.<

you couldn’t deny harua so you showed up expecting the usual chaos. instead the apartment was quiet. only yuma’s shoes by the door. only yuma on the couch, scrolling his phone, looking just as confused as you felt.

harua appeared from the kitchen with two bottles of water and the most unrepentant smile you’d ever seen.

“i have a date,” he announced. “don’t wait up. keys are on the counter. try not to break anything. or each other. actually—break each other. i don’t care. just stop complaining.”

and then he left.

the silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.

yuma was the one who broke it. he leaned back against the couch, arms spread, looking at you with that lazy half-smile that always made him look like he knew something you didn’t.

“so,” he said. “you as desperate as you’ve been pretending to be?”

you should’ve denied it. should’ve laughed it off, grabbed your bag, left.

instead you sat down on the other end of the couch and said, quiet and honest, “worse.”

his eyes darkened immediately.

“same.”

that was all it took.

the first time wasn’t gentle.

it wasn’t supposed to be.

you were both wound too tight, too hungry, too tired of pretending your bodies weren’t problems. clothes came off in a messy, impatient scramble—his shirt somewhere near the tv, your bra hooked on the arm of the couch. he kissed like he was starving, all tongue and teeth and low sounds in the back of his throat that made your stomach clench. when he got his mouth on your neck he bit, not hard enough to mark but hard enough to make you gasp, and the sound he made when you dragged your nails down his back was filthy.

“fuck—yeah, just like that,” he muttered against your skin. “been thinking about this longer than i should admit.”

you didn’t ask how long. you just pulled him closer.

he ate you out like it was the only thing keeping him alive—messy, greedy, two fingers curling inside you while his tongue worked your clit in tight circles. you came the first time with your thighs shaking around his head and his name breaking on a moan. he didn’t stop. just kept going until you were oversensitive and pushing at his shoulders, and even then he only pulled back far enough to grin up at you, mouth shiny, eyes half-lidded and dark.

“still good?”

you nodded, breathless. “more.”

he fucked you on the couch first—slow at the start only because he was thick and you needed a second to adjust, then hard and deep once you wrapped your legs around him and told him to move. the angle was perfect. every thrust dragged against that spot that made your vision white out. he talked the whole time, low and filthy, telling you how tight you were, how wet, how good you felt taking him. when he came it was with a punched-out groan against your neck, hips stuttering, filling you in hot pulses that made your toes curl.

he stayed inside you after, breathing hard, forehead pressed to yours.

“fuuckk—please tell me you’re on birth control…” he panted, voice rough.

“isn’t that something you should ask before cumming in a girl…?”

“please just answer the question, babe.” he whined, burying his face in your now sweaty neck.

“yes, i am…now keep going, please?”

Yuma’s laugh was low and wrecked against your neck.

“fuck. you’re perfect.”

he didn’t pull out. just rolled his hips in a slow, deep grind that made both of you hiss, his cum already starting to slip out around his cock with every movement. the wet sound of it was filthy. he clearly liked it—his hands tightened on your thighs and he kept going, lazy and relentless, fucking his own mess deeper into you until you were squirming.

“look at that,” he muttered, glancing down between your bodies. “already leaking. goddamn.”

he finally pulled out only long enough to flip you onto your stomach, yank your hips up, and sink back in with one smooth thrust. the new angle punched a broken moan out of you. yuma groaned like he’d been punched too.

“there it is. take it. fuck—you’re still so tight.”

he set a brutal pace after that. one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise, using your body exactly how he wanted. every thrust forced more of his cum out of you, dripping down your thighs onto harua’s couch. neither of you cared. you came again with your face pressed into the cushion, sobbing his name, and he just kept going through it—overstimulating you until your legs shook and you tried to crawl forward just to get a second of relief.

he dragged you right back by the hips.“nuh-uh. you said keep going.” his voice was pure filth. “so you’re gonna take it until i’m done. yeah?”

“yes—fuck, yes—”

“good girl.”

he came a second time with his chest plastered to your back, teeth sunk into your shoulder, filling you all over again. the noise he made was almost pained. you felt every pulse.

even then he didn’t stop completely. just slowed into deep, lazy rolls of his hips while both of you caught your breath, his cock still half-hard inside you, keeping everything in.

“bedroom,” he rasped eventually. “before we destroy harua’s couch any more than we already have.”

you barely made it.

you barely made it.

yuma half-carried, half-dragged you down the short hallway, both of you still dripping and sticky and laughing under your breath like idiots. the second the bedroom door shut behind you he had you against it, mouth crashing into yours, hands everywhere at once. you could feel how hard he still was against your stomach even after two rounds. greedy. relentless. exactly like you.

“bed,” you managed between kisses. “now.”

he walked you backward until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you both went down in a tangle of limbs. yuma didn’t waste time. he shoved your thighs apart, looked down at the absolute mess he’d already made of you—his cum still leaking out of you, thighs shiny with it—and made a low, punched-out sound like the sight physically hurt him.

“jesus christ.” he dragged two fingers through the mess and pushed them back inside you, slow and deep. “look at you. stuffed full and still dripping. fucking nasty.”

you clenched around his fingers on purpose. his eyes flicked up to yours, dark and hungry.

“do that again.”

you did.

he fingered you open like that for a while—lazy, filthy, scissoring and curling until you were rocking down onto his hand and whining. every time you got close he slowed down, watching your face with that half-lidded stare that made your stomach flip. only when you were actually trembling did he pull his fingers free, lick them clean without breaking eye contact, and finally line himself back up.

he sank in with one long, smooth thrust and both of you groaned like you’d been holding your breath.

“fuck—still so wet for me,” he muttered against your mouth. “still taking me so deep. you were made for this, huh? made to get fucked stupid and filled up.”

“only by you,” you breathed, and the way his hips stuttered told you that landed exactly how you wanted it to.

he set a deep, rolling pace after that. not the brutal pounding from the couch—something heavier, more thorough. every thrust dragged against that perfect spot inside you until your eyes were rolling back and your nails were leaving red lines down his back. yuma talked the entire time, voice wrecked and low, telling you how good you felt, how pretty you looked with your legs spread for him, how he could feel his own cum squelching out around his cock every time he bottomed out.

you came with a broken sob, clenching so hard around him that he cursed and had to still for a second. he didn’t give you time to recover. just kept going through it, fucking you through the overstimulation until you were crying again and trying to squirm away and he just pinned your wrists above your head and growled,

“take it. you asked for this. so fucking take it.”

you did.

he flipped you onto your side next, hiked one of your legs up, and slid back in from behind. the new angle made you choke on a moan. yuma’s mouth found the side of your neck, biting and sucking marks while his hips snapped forward in short, mean thrusts. one of his hands slipped down between your legs to rub tight circles over your clit and you shattered for a third time with his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer.

only then did he let himself go—burying himself as deep as he could and coming with a long, low groan that vibrated against your skin. you felt every thick pulse. felt him filling you all over again until it was leaking out around him even while he was still inside.

he stayed there for a long time after, breathing hard against the back of your neck, one arm locked tight around your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

eventually he pulled out with a wet sound that made both of you shiver. you felt the immediate rush of cum following, sliding down your thighs. yuma watched it happen with dark, satisfied eyes, then reached down and pushed two fingers back into you just to keep it in a little longer.

“messy girl,” he murmured, almost fond. “look what you did to my sheets already.”

you laughed, breathless and wrecked. “your fault.”

“yeah.” he pressed a slow kiss to your shoulder. “worth it.”

“think you can go for another?” he murmured against your shoulder, already half-hard again inside the mess he’d made of you.

you didn’t even answer with words—just arched your back and pushed your ass back against him in a playful wiggle.

yuma’s laugh was low and dark.

“greedy fucking girl.”

he pulled out just long enough to deliver a sharp smack to the side of your ass. the sound cracked through the quiet room and you jolted with a soft gasp, heat blooming under his palm. he rubbed the sting in with his thumb, almost soothing, before spanking you again—harder this time—right as he pushed back in with one long, wet thrust.

both of you groaned.

“shit—you're made for me—mm—i fuckin' swear—,” he muttered, gripping your hip with one hand while the other slid up your spine to fist in your hair. he tugged your head back just enough to make your back arch deeper, the pull sharp and perfect. “still so fucking full of me. look at you just taking it. greedy slut."

he started moving in deep, grinding thrusts, not even pulling out all the way—just rocking into you like he was trying to carve a permanent space for himself. every drag of his cock forced more cum out around him, the wet filthy sounds of it loud in the quiet room. you could feel it dripping down onto the pillows under you. every few thrusts he added another firm spank, the sting blooming hot across your skin, making you clench around him on instinct.

“you should see yourself right now,” he rasped, voice rough as he tugged your hair again, forcing you to look back at him over your shoulder. “ass red, dripping my cum, still begging for more with your body. nasty little slut.”

you pushed back to meet every thrust, shameless. “nngh—mhm—your nasty little slut.”

the sound he made was almost feral.

he leaned over your back, chest flush to your spine, and reached around to rub tight, mean circles over your oversensitive clit while his other hand stayed buried in your hair, keeping you exactly where he wanted. the dual stimulation ripped a broken cry out of you. your third orgasm had barely faded and already he was dragging you toward a fourth, relentless, talking filth against the shell of your ear the entire time.

“c’mon, baby. give me one more. milk my cock while i fill you up again. i know you can.”

you came hard—shaking, sobbing, clenching so tight around him that he cursed and had to still for a second just to keep from following you over. the second your body started to relax he was moving again, chasing his own high with short, brutal snaps of his hips, hand still fisted in your hair, another sharp spank landing across your ass right as he buried himself as deep as he could.

when he came it was with a long, broken moan muffled against the back of your neck. you felt every thick pulse, felt him pumping even more cum into you until it was overflowing, sliding down your thighs in messy streaks.

he collapsed half on top of you after, both of you panting, sweaty, completely wrecked. his cock was still twitching inside you. neither of you moved for a long time.

eventually yuma pressed a soft, almost sweet kiss to the bite mark he’d left, then soothed a gentle palm over the warm, pink skin of your ass.

“…okay,” he breathed, voice ruined. “okay. maybe we take five minutes.”

you laughed weakly into the sheets. “liar. give you three and you’ll be hard again.”

he didn’t even try to deny it. just nuzzled into the back of your neck and mumbled, “two minutes. tops.”

you stayed like that for like 6 minutes max—him still buried inside you, both of you sticky and trembling and already half-thinking about round whatever-this-was—until his breathing evened out a little and his hands started wandering again, slow and lazy over your stomach, your breasts, the insides of your thighs.

“think you can go for another?” he murmured against your shoulder, already half-hard again inside the mess he’d made of you.

you didn’t even answer with words—just arched your back and pushed your ass back against him in a slow, deliberate roll.

yuma’s laugh was low and dark.

“greedy fucking girl.”

he pulled out just long enough to deliver a sharp smack to the side of your ass. the sound cracked through the quiet room and you jolted with a soft gasp, heat blooming under his palm. he rubbed the sting in with his thumb, almost soothing, before spanking you again—harder this time—right as he pushed back in with one long, wet thrust.

both of you groaned.

“shit—still so soft and open for me,” he muttered, gripping your hip with one hand while the other slid up your spine to fist in your hair. he tugged your head back just enough to make your back arch deeper, the pull sharp and perfect. “still so fucking full. look at you just taking it.”

he started moving in deep, grinding thrusts, not even pulling out all the way—just rocking into you like he was trying to carve a permanent space for himself. every drag of his cock forced more cum out around him, the wet filthy sounds of it loud in the quiet room. you could feel it dripping down onto the pillows under you.

“ahh—fuck—” you whimpered, pushing back to meet him. “yuma…”

he clearly loved it; his breathing got heavier, his fingers tightening in your hair until your scalp tingled.

“you should see yourself right now,” he rasped. “ass pink from my hand, hair in my fist, stuffed full and still pushing back for more. such a greedy little slut.”

you clenched around him on purpose and let out a broken little moan. his hips stuttered.

“fuck—do that again.”

you did, gasping, “nnh—like that—feels so good—” and he rewarded you with another sharp spank that made you cry out and tighten even harder. the sound he made was pure filth.

“yeah. that’s it. my nasty girl likes it when it stings, huh?” he leaned over your back, chest flush to your spine, and kept the grip in your hair while his other hand slipped down between your legs. two fingers found your swollen clit and rubbed tight, mean circles right as he snapped his hips harder. “look at you. dripping all over my cock and still begging for it with this pretty little body.”

“ahh—ah, fuck, yuma—please—” the dual stimulation ripped a high, shaky moan out of you. your last orgasm had barely faded and already he was dragging you toward another, relentless, talking filth against the shell of your ear the entire time.

“c’mon, baby. give it to me. milk my cock while i fill you up again. show me what a good slut you are.”

“i—i’m gonna—ahhh—” you came hard—shaking, sobbing, clenching so tight around him that he cursed and had to still for a second just to keep from following you over. the second your body started to relax he was moving again, chasing his own high with short, brutal snaps of his hips. every thrust forced more of the mess out of you. every few strokes he spanked you again, the sharp crack of his palm mixing with the wet sounds of him fucking his own cum deeper into you.

“nghh—yes—ah—keep going, don’t stop—” you moaned, voice wrecked and needy, pushing back even as overstimulation made your thighs tremble.

when he came it was with his teeth sunk into the back of your shoulder and a long, broken moan muffled against your skin. you felt every thick pulse, felt him pumping even more into you until it was overflowing, sliding down your thighs in messy streaks. a soft, punched-out noise slipped out of you at the feeling.

he collapsed half on top of you after, both of you panting, sweaty, completely wrecked. his cock was still twitching inside you. neither of you moved for a long time.

eventually yuma pressed a soft, almost sweet kiss to the bite mark he’d left, then gentled the hand that had been twisted in your hair, stroking through the strands like an apology and a promise at the same time. his other palm soothed slowly over the warm, spanked skin of your ass.

“…okay,” he breathed, voice ruined. “okay. maybe we actually take five this time.”

you let out a soft, breathless laugh against the sheets. “five minutes. then shower.”

yuma hummed in agreement, still nuzzling the back of your neck, but his hands never really stopped moving—slow, lazy strokes over your stomach, your hips, the warm pink skin of your ass. true to form, it was closer to three minutes before you felt him hardening again inside you.

“shower, yu” you reminded him, voice still a little wrecked. “we’re disgusting.”

“mhm yeah,” he murmured, pressing one more open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder before finally pulling out with a wet sound that made both of you shiver. “c’mon.”

the walk to the bathroom was unsteady. the second the water was warm enough he pulled you under the spray with him, crowding you against the tile. you barely had time to tip your head back and let the water run over your face before his mouth was on yours again—hungry, deep, hands sliding down to grip your thighs and lift you.

“ahh—yuma—god—you are insatiable” you gasped as he sank back into you in one smooth thrust, the heat of the water mixing with the heat of him. your legs locked around his waist on instinct.

“can’t help it,” he muttered against your mouth, starting to move in steady, powerful rolls of his hips. the wet slap of skin on skin echoed off the tiles. “you feel too good. always so fucking tight for me.”

you moaned into his shoulder, nails digging into his back as he fucked you against the wall. every thrust forced soft, punched-out sounds out of you—“nnh—ah—yes—” until he had to clap a hand over your mouth when your voice got too loud.

“quiet, baby. neighbors.” but he was grinning against your temple, clearly loving every broken little noise you made for him.

he came with a low groan buried in your neck, filling you all over again while the water rinsed some of the mess down your thighs. you followed right after, shaking in his arms, a muffled whimper trapped behind his palm.

you didn’t even bother getting fully clean.

still dripping, still naked, still sticky with each other, yuma half-carried you out of the bathroom and straight into the kitchen. the second your back hit the cool counter he was between your legs again, spreading you open and sinking in with a shared, shaky moan.

“one more,” he panted, forehead pressed to yours. “just one more—fuck, you drive me crazy—”

“then stop talking and fuck me,” you breathed, and the sound he made was pure filth.

he did. hard and deep, one hand braced on the counter beside your hip, the other gripping your thigh to keep you open for him. the wet sounds of it were obscene in the quiet apartment. you came first this time, crying out against his mouth, and he followed almost immediately, burying himself to the hilt and pulsing inside you with a broken “shit—”

somehow you made it back to the bedroom after that.

yuma dropped onto the mattress and pulled you down on top of him, still inside you, both of you too spent to do more than grind lazily together until the last sparks faded. eventually he softened and slipped free, but neither of you moved to clean up. you just stayed tangled, sticky and warm and completely wrecked, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your spine while your breathing slowly evened out.

you were half-asleep when the front door opened.

there was a long, heavy pause.

then harua’s voice, exhausted and deeply unimpressed:

“…it smells like a fucking sex den in here.”

another pause. the sound of him kicking his shoes off harder than necessary.

“i’m going to taki’s. don’t wait up. and open a window, for the love of god.”

the front door slammed shut behind him.

yuma’s chest shook under your cheek with silent laughter. you smiled into his skin, too tired to do more than mumble,

“…oops.”

he pressed a slow kiss to the top of your head, arm tightening around you.

“worth it.”

© lunenet 2026 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱.  𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾  𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌  𝖺𝗋𝖾  𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅  𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽.  𝗎𝗇𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽  𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇,  𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇,  𝗆𝗈𝖽𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇,  𝗈𝗋  𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇  𝗂𝗌  𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗁𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽. 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 & 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗿 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱!

[lunelillii]

[muratamame]

just this once • byun euijoo

pairing: euijoo x reader

synopsis: euijoo is the best boyfriend a girl could ask for; kind, caring, patient. of course, there's nothing wrong with letting your imagination run a little wild ... what if he wasn't so kind and caring ... just this once?

tags: established relationship, smut, dom!euijoo, dirty talk, edging, overstimulation

word count: 2.9k words

notes: 18+ content (mdni). everyone tell my friend euijoo is her bias wrecker rn!!!!

“you want me to what?”

you struggle to hold back your laughter as euijoo stares back at you, his drink nearly slipping from his fingers. your legs are draped over his lap, sprawled across the lengthy sofa at the center of your living room. it’s well past midnight, the pair of you on your third bottle of wine for the night. a cozy evening in with your boyfriend had quickly turned into a round of hypotheticals, with your latest nearly knocking euijoo from his seat.

“you heard me,” you reply through another laugh before taking a sip of your freshly refilled glass of chardonnay. “throw me around like a rag doll. choke me out, spit in my mouth. the whole nine yards.”

“do i look like i would do that?” he sputters with a gesture to himself. his light brown hair, tousled across his forehead, nearly blends into the color that floods his cheeks at your request.

“no,” you admit, “but that’s why i think it could be fun … don’t get me wrong, i love what we have going on.” you sit up straight and cross your legs so that you’re able to rest your hand over his reassuringly. a mischievous glint flickers across your eyes, one that euijoo recognizes all too well as a teasing sigh escapes him. “it would just be interesting to see how … well, how crazy you can get if you tried.”

“i don’t know if you can handle all this,” euijoo replies, leaning back into the cushions. he braces an arm behind his head with a flex of his biceps for dramatic effect.

“oh, i think i’ll be okay,”

you assumed that was the end of that conversation; a one-night, drunken “what-if” that was fleeting. the pair of you return to your normal routine, with euijoo in back-to-back schedules and work summoning you into late hours of the night. you barely remember the last time you’d had time to yourselves by the end of a third grueling week in a row. your feet ache in every pair of heels and your hair has been confined to a worn claw clip.

you make it back home one evening well after dinner and you assume euijoo is either with the boys or ordered takeout for himself. you slump against the elevator wall as it lifts you to your shared apartment, mindlessly sifting through your options on food delivery apps before you settle on a hearty seafood stew. the sight of your front door draws a sigh of relief from you and you hurry inside.

“hello,” you call out to euijoo when you realize he’s on the couch. he looks up, a smile wide enough to narrow his eyes spread across his face when he catches your eye.

“hey, baby.” he lowers his drink onto the coffee table and leans over the back cushions to watch as you unpack your tote bag from the day. “long day again?”

“yeah,” you answer as you release your hair from its restraints and massage your scalp with a blissful sigh. “but this project is finally over, so i get a little bit of downtime.” you saunter over to the couch, ready to fall into your usual position with your legs stretched across euijoo’s when he grabs your wrist gently and guides you into his lap. you don’t think much of it and lean against his torso as he offers you a sip from his glass.

you shift your weight ever-so-slightly so that you’re able to settle on euijoo’s thigh, the gentle thrum of his heart against his chest near lulling you to sleep right then and there.

at least you would have, if he didn’t suddenly yank your thighs apart so that you were split open in his lap. your brows shoot up in surprise at the gesture, his free hand snaking around your waist to cage you against him. a familiar heat churns in your core, exhausted as you were. his long fingers stroke the skin of your inner thigh, coaxing you to spread your legs even further apart for him.

“you need to decompress?” euijoo asks against the shell of your ear, his voice breathy as his grip tightens on your thigh. your eyes flutter shut and you sink into him instinctively. there was something different in this tone, less of a question and more of a command. you finally look back at him, arching a brow in question at his sudden advances.

“you have something in mind?” you ask nonchalantly as the ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. the room grows darker by the minute as the sun dips below your living room windows, leaving the pair of you under the dim lighting of the tv in the background. euijoo laughs through his nose and juts his thigh against your core without warning, the only thing between you and the brute force of his muscle the fabric of your trousers.

the friction coaxes an involuntary whimper from you and you twitch against him before you angle your face just enough so that you’re about to pull him into a kiss. euijoo quickly notices what you’re doing and his free hand curls around your neck, pressure from his fingertips against your pulse making you gasp.

“i don’t think so,” he mutters before biting down on your shoulder and trailing the tip of his tongue from the mark up the length of your neck. your mind grows clouded from a mix of confusion and lust. when it came to sex, euijoo was ever-the-gentleman—much as he was in every other facet of his personality. this was an entirely different side of him, one that—

—one that you’d presented to him on a drunken silver platter several nights ago that he clearly hadn’t forgotten about.

confusion is quickly replaced by anticipation as you writhe under his touch. his grip tightens around your neck just enough to elicit another sound from you, tilting your head back against his chest so that you can meet his eyes. his pupils are already blown wide, his gaze flickering across your expression.

“what?” he asks softly with an arch of his brow. “you can be a good girl for me tonight, right?” you nod beneath his grip before he trails his hand along your jaw until his fingers hover over your lips. your mouth falls open involuntarily and he huffs.

“i’ll take that as a yes.”

whatever restraint was holding euijoo back finally snaps, the last bit of his resolve crumbling as he shoves his fingers into your mouth. you cough in surprise, your tongue gliding over his knuckles as he holds your gaze. his free hand trails along your waist when you feel him fidget with the button at your waistband. your legs twitch in anticipation before you realize he won’t budge further. he pries his fingers out of your mouth and fully shifts away from you, much to your disappointment. you can’t help but gawk at him in disbelief until you notice his eyes flicker towards the bedroom door in a silent command for you to follow him in.

and so you do, your legs weightless as you trudge across the floorboards and he shuts the door behind you. just as you’re about to fall back onto the bed, euijoo’s hand reclaims your waist while the other shoves you face-forward onto the sheets. you gasp as you feel his fingers curl around the hem of your trousers, shoving them to the floor and exposing your already soaked panties on full display for him.

“can’t wait for me to touch you, huh?” euijoo hums, ghosting his hand over every inch of your skin other than your core. you writhe in dissatisfaction as you grip the sheets to steady yourself so that you can turn over. he grabs your wrists in one swift motion, keeping you pinned to the mattress while his free hand smacks your ass in warning. you bite down on your lower lip to stifle the whimper that threatens to escape you before he finally drags a fingertip along the lace over your clit.

“a-ah, baby—” you mutter, clenching around nothing. euijoo notices the sensation and the ghost of a smile lingers on his lips. he deepens the pressure, dragging his finger over and over the same spot as short, electric jolts of pleasure stir at your core.

the hand holding your wrists hostage finally releases, but not before euijoo has you pinned against him for the second time that night—only this time, his bicep is locked firmly around your neck while he cages you beneath him. your mind spins from the scent of his cologne as it engulfs you, the heat of his body and the faint pressure of his cock against your ass. you can’t help but buck your hips against his touch, grinding your clit more forcefully into his touch until he lifts himself off of you entirely. you’re about to protest when he yanks you back by a hand threaded through your hair.

“get on your knees,” he orders. you oblige, sinking to the floor as he frees his length from his sweats. you feel another wave of pleasure churn through your core at the sight of his cock, pre-cum glistening at its tip. before you can wrap your fingers around his shaft, he pulls you forward by the hand in your hair until his tip hits the back of your throat.

he falls into a steady motion, pulling his hips back enough so that he can thrust his entire length back into your mouth. you hollow your cheeks around his length obediently, holding his gaze as the pressure of his tip hitting your throat causes him to groan in approval.

“that’s a good girl,” he mutters, his grip tightening on your hair as his hips meet your pace. “you look so good like that.”

you moan in response, the vibration against his already sensitive skin causing him to buck his hips more violently. you feel the way his control slips before he finally slows to a stop, pulling away from you to catch his breath. you don’t even realize how breathless you are until you’re able to swallow down deep breaths of your own. euijoo looks down at you intently, a flicker of assurance crossing his features before he wraps an arm around your waist to throw you back onto the bed. you don’t realize until now how badly you want euijoo’s lips against yours, to be able to sink your nails into his back between his shoulder blades in the way that you usually do.

euijoo peers down at you, tousled brown hair covering his eyes as he curls his fingers around your panties and tears them off. you swear you hear stitches rip, but you’re unable to give it a second thought as he hoists your ankles over either of his shoulder and buries his tongue into your entrance. your back arches off of the sheets as a cry breaks free from your lips, your hands grabbing at nothing but the sheets as your legs flinch on either side of him.

he takes his time in eating you out, every lap of his tongue slower than the last. it drives you insane as you thrash against the mattress. euijoo hums against you, pulling away just enough to insert two of his fingers into you and pump them in a staggered rhythm as he speaks.

“should i stop?” he asks, feigning ignorance as he inserts a third. your chest heaves with broken breaths, your fingers outstretched in an attempt to reach for him until you realize he has you locked in a position so that you were at his disposal.

“no,” you breathe, pleasure building at the pit of your stomach and threatening to spill over. “please don’t stop.” euijoo seems to oblige, falling into a steady pace that causes your breath to quicken and your chest to tighten.

just as you’re about to climax, he stops and lets you fall back onto the sheets.

“what the fuck—” you spit, seeing red before he scoffs and lifts himself to hover over you. he presses his fingers into your cheeks, your mouth falling open before he glides his tongue over yours and fully spits in your mouth so that you could taste every drop of yourself that he’d devoured. you swallow, still stricken by surprise before you feel him shoving your thighs apart and the brush of his tip against your entrance.

“this is what you wanted,” euijoo reminds you, teasing in his voice before he shoves every inch of himself into you and bottoms out, “right, baby?” you gasp, barely able to get a word out as he begins to fuck you at a relentless pace without warning.

the bed shakes beneath you, the headboard colliding against the wall with every thrust. euijoo throws his head back with a feral groan, his fingers sinking into your hips to hold you steady. you feel your eyes flutter shut for a brief moment before his voice recaptures your attention.

“look at me,” he commands, his half-lidded eyes meeting yours as he angles your legs so that they’re bent backwards beside either side of your head. it’s a deeper position than you’d ever tried with him before, enough for you to nearly see stars as he presses a kiss to your calf.

“that’s my girl,” he praises, snaking his hands along your torso, “taking every fucking inch of me like that.”

“fuck, euijoo,” you mewl, your impending orgasm threatening to spill over for the second time. you tighten around him, the suction earning a grunt from him as he slows to a sudden stop and pulls out of you. “i swear, if you don’t—”

“c’mere,” he says, lifting you by your waist so that you’re settled into his lap. you assume he’s asking you to ride him and adjust your thighs against his, about to grind against him when he lays back and wraps his arms around you. he falls back into a similar rhythm from before, every inch of his cock pressed against your walls as he fucks you senseless. “i want to see what you look like when you come all over me.”

you’re unable to succumb to the pleasure as he holds you upright, his hand wrapped firmly back around your throat. you look down at him, your vision blurred and your body trembling. the lack of oxygen coupled with the feeling of him inside of you sends you over the edge. euijoo finally grants you your release, his eyes locked on yours as you convulse in his lap. he grits his teeth at the way you suck him in before your body grows limp. you press your hands to his chest, his muscles taut beneath your touch as you try to steady your breathing when he returns to tracing circles over your already overstimulated clit.

“a-ah, fuck—baby, p-please—” you stammer, trying to pry him off of you by his wrist to no avail.

“you can take it,” he says, his voice rough and clipped. you can tell he’s close as his pace begins to falter, his hips bucking violently against yours until he releases a drawn-out moan and lets his head fall back. he fills you to the brim, his cum dripping along your thigh as he pulls out and drapes his arms around you lazily.

the pair of you fight to catch your breath, spent and slick with sweat until euijoo brushes your hair from your face and meets your gaze with a worried expression.

“are you … was that okay?” he asks gently, his palm flush against the small of your back. you arch a brow at him in disbelief, a smile lingering on your face as you raise your eyebrows at him in response.

“okay?” you repeat, your breathing finally steady as you pry yourself off of him. your legs tremble with every movement as you settle onto your haunches beside him. “you weren’t messing around.”

"it’s what you wanted,” he protests, snaking an arm around your waist so that he’s able to help guide you towards the bathroom at the other end of the room. the two of you bicker amongst yourselves playfully, euijoo insisting that he didn’t know he had it in him as he starts the shower.

“well, now i know what to expect when i say i need a stress reliever,” you sigh, staring back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. your mascara is smudged in faint, watery streaks, your hair tousled in every direction and your skin glistening with sweat. euijoo loops his arms around your waist, his tall frame towering over yours as he rests his chin on the crown of your head and stares at you through your reflection.

“did it not work?” he asks, his broad smile betraying him as he arches a brow at you.

“oh, it did,” you assure him.

“i hope work stresses you out more often, then,” he teases, your mouth agape as you smack his arm in protest. he laughs, his arms tightening around you as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

[jujuville]

falling behind

part 1 of the “lessons” series

pairing: euijoo x reader (+nichojoo crumbs)

summary: a kindergarten class's field trip to the museum you work at results in you becoming friends with their very cute teacher

tropes: teacher!euijoo, curator!reader, roomie!nicholas, photographer!nicholas, friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, romcom

word count: 10.4k

warnings: mommy issues, mentions of divorce, children

a/n: this is actually the first fanfic i wrote for this blog and i'm kinda insecure about it not being my usual style... regardless, here it is lol

masterlist

AUGUST

It starts with an e-mail.

SUBJECT: Kindergarten Class Visit Dear Miss Y/N, I’m writing to ask about your program’s new lesson, “The Magic of Everyday Objects." I see that it’s recommended for ages 8 and up, but I’ve been gifted with the most wonderful class of kindergarteners and was wondering if it would be possible to arrange for them to attend a presentation. I look forward to hearing back from you. Best, Mr. Byun

From there, in between cataloguing artifacts and proofreading exhibit labels, you spend all of your time rewriting slides and adding in cute stickers. 

Eventually, you scrap the slideshow and spend an entire weekend replicating different objects throughout the museum out of felt, perfectly sized for little hands.

Being an assistant at a museum isn’t always easy. Most of your days are spent doing the grunt work of curators, or doing your best to get middle schoolers to pay attention to the slideshows that you spent hours making. Sometimes, all you do for the entire day is greet visitors, fetch coffee, and help restock the gift shop.

Still, you’ve always had a love for things that most people would deem ordinary, whether their histories are significant to entire civilizations or just a single person.

It isn’t until Mr. Byun’s class visits at the end of August that you start to believe that someone can share that love.

Twenty-six of the cutest kindergarteners march into the museum on a sunny Friday morning, forming a perfect single file line through the heavy brass doors. 

“Miss Y/N?” a young man in a pastel yellow sweater speaks up. 

“Yes, hi! That’s me,” you greet him, scanning the group for a second chaperone. “Is Mr. Byun here?”

“I’m Mr. Byun,” he laughs, holding out his hand. It takes a split second for his words to click. The teacher you had been e-mailing back and forth with was not the middle-aged guy with a combover that you had been imagining.

“I’m so sorry,” you cringe at yourself, shaking his hand and fighting the urge to hide behind your clipboard. “You’re not what I expected.”

“I could say the same for you,” he says, smiling. He’s so tall that you have to look upwards to meet his gaze, and between his perfect nose and full lips, you have no idea what he’s doing stuck in an elementary school and not on the cover of a magazine.

“The classroom is toward the back of the museum,” you stutter, turning on your heels in the hopes that he hasn’t noticed how flushed your face has become. “Follow me.”

The kids ooh and ahh as you pass exhibits, and Mr. Byun falls to the back of the line to gently usher them along.

“Miss Museum Lady,” a girl with pigtail braids calls as you enter the classroom. She approaches you while Mr. Byun helps the others into their seats. “Where are the dinosaurs?”

“Miss Y/N,” you introduce yourself, crouching down until you’re at her eye level. “We don’t have any dinosaurs here. That’s a different type of museum.”

“Oh,” she says, clearly disappointed with your answer and turning away to run to her seat.

“Miss Y/N may not have dinosaurs, but I’m sure she has lots of other interesting things to teach you about, Hannah,” Mr. Byun reassures her, giving you an encouraging glance from where he's standing at the back of the room. “Why don’t we all turn on our listening ears so she can tell us.”

Like magic, all twenty-six of the students hum and fiddle with their ears before turning to face you, completely quiet and locked in.

“Usually, I make students sit through presentations,” you begin, your heart pounding as if the crowd of five-year olds are in charge of your annual performance evaluation. “But Mr. Byun told me that he was bringing a very special group of children today, so I prepared something equally special.”

A few of the kids sit up straighter, leaning their heads to try and see what’s inside the basket you’re holding. 

“I need a favor first, though,” you say, pulling the cloth that sits on top tighter.

“What is it, Miss Museum Lady?” Hannah asks, practically shaking in excitement.

“Miss Y/N,” Mr. Byun reminds her.

“What is it, Miss Y/N?" another student asks. He’s wearing blue plastic glasses that make his eyes look enormous, and his voice is so quiet that it’s almost inaudible. 

“I need us all to close our eyes and think about our favorite thing ever, and on the count of three, I want us all to say it at the same time.” You watch as they all squeeze their eyes shut, waiting for you to begin the countdown.

“Is everybody ready?” you continue. A chorus of tiny voices echo back in agreement. “Okay. One…”

You begin placing your felt replicas down in front of them.

“Two…” you continue, making your way around the room. “Three!”

“Pizza!”

“My dog!”

“LEGOLAS.”

“Very good job!” you clap, excited by how eager they seem to participate in comparison to your typical guests. “Now, open your eyes and look at the table in front of you.”

They look in front of them. A teacup, a movie ticket, a golden coin. You watch as they pick each one up, half-distracted by the soft material and half-confused on what exactly you’re trying to tell them.

“The objects you’re looking at might not seem special. But they’re someone else’s favorite thing. You see, museums were made to keep important things safe over a long time. And what makes something important?”

“You saying so!” a spiky haired boy calls out. 

“Raise your hand next time and wait to be called on, Charlie,” Mr. Byun interjects, his voice soft and gentle despite giving a warning.

Charlie nods before raising his hand. You smile and point at him.

“Museums know what’s important because they have museum ladies like you look at them and pick,” he explains, rocking back and forth in his chair.

“Very good answer, Charlie,” you say, walking over to offer him a high five that he happily accepts. “I’m not one of those museum ladies yet. They’re called curators. But I’m asking about before things come to us. How do we know they’re important?”

“Because of love,” the same quiet boy with the blue glasses squeaks. “We love things and that makes them important. That’s what my mommy and daddy say about me.”

“Exactly!” you say, hoping that your enthusiasm is more encouraging than scary. “Take another look at the things I’ve given you. They might seem boring. Nothing like yummy pizza or a handsome elf prince. But behind each one is a story of someone who loved it. That’s how they ended up here in the museum.”

You glance between the students, hoping you haven’t lost their attention yet. 

“Can anybody tell me who they think loved the object I’ve given you and why?” you ask, and watch as they look between each other and back at Mr. Byun. 

“It’s okay to make it up,” you add. Almost immediately, everyone’s hands shoot up. You point at a girl whose long, black hair reaches her waist. 

“Hi, my name is Ava,” she smiles, pointing at her shirt which has her name written on it in glitter letters. “And I have this broken spoon and I think a princess named Ava owned it and she used it to become friends with a dragon by sharing ice cream but the ice cream was too cold and hard and it got bent, but they became friends anyway and she got to ride it through the sky and set her big brother on fire.”

You blink back at her, your eyes meeting Mr. Byun’s for a split second as the two of you try to maintain your composure. “What a wonderful imagination you have, Ava. I think that’s the perfect answer. Would anybody else like to share what they think about their object?”

A few more students raise their hands again, and one particularly eager boy wearing earmuffs waves his toward the back of the classroom. You point at him and he pumps his fist in celebration of being chosen.

“MY NAME IS JOEY AND I HAVE A TICKET AND I THINK THIS TICKET IS FOR THE FIRST LORD OF THE RINGS MOVIE AND IT BELONGED TO MY DAD AND HE LOVES IT BECAUSE IT’S WHERE HE MET MY MOM.”

“Joey, inside voice,” Mr. Byun tells him, patting him on the shoulder. He nods back, as if he’s finally remembering that he isn’t supposed to be speaking at full volume.

“My name is Joey and I have the movie ticket and I think it was my dad’s and it was for the Lord of the Rings—the first one—that he watched in theaters because he’s old and then he met my mom there and then they fell in love and they had me so that’s why he loves the ticket.”

“Thank you, Joey,” you reply, and you can tell he’s waiting to see if you approve of his explanation. “Your answer was so good that I’m happy I got to hear it twice.”

A grin breaks across his face and he turns to Mr. Byun for a fistbump, which he rewards immediately and without question.

“Mr. Byun,” a voice pipes up. It comes from a girl sitting toward the front. She’s smaller than the others, and her hair is cut into a bob and adorned with a flower headband. “Is it almost nap time?”

“Almost, Emmy,” he assures her. “Why don’t we let Miss Y/N finish her presentation and then we can go back to school and rest?”

“Okay,” she agrees, fighting back a yawn and leaning her head against the table. You take that as your cue to start wrapping things up.

“Before you all leave, I want to introduce everybody to a special friend of mine.”

“Is it Mr. Byun?” Charlie asks, once again forgetting to raise his hand. “Because we already know him.”

“No,” you laugh, shaking your head and reaching back into the basket. You pull out a small stuffed animal—a bunny—whose white fur is accented with rainbow polka dots. It’s dressed in a pastel yellow dress that you had sewn a while back. You hold her up high enough for everyone to see. “This is Cutie. She’s my favorite thing.”

“She matches Mr. Byun!” one boy who has a Paw Patrol sticker stuck to his forehead points out. “Wait… she’s a Byun-ny!”

The students who are still awake giggle as they realize the accidental matching outfits. 

“That was a good pun, Bryan,” Mr. Byun nods.

“I don’t know what that means,” Bryan replies with a big smile. He turns back to you with his arms extended. “Can I hold her? I have a baby sister and my mommy and daddy let me hold her, so I can be really careful with Cutie, Miss Y/N. I promise.”

“Well, if you make me a promise, then I have to believe you,” you say, walking over to gently place her into his arms. He cradles her, rocking back and forth.

“I have a bunny at home just like Cutie, Miss Y/N,” a girl with puffy sleeves and space buns points out, her eyes focused on Bryan. “Her name is Button. Oh, and my name is Phoebe. She has a shirt with four buttons on it. I want her to have a pretty dress like Cutie too, but it should have lots and lots of buttons. Like… seven!”

“Thank you for sharing Phoebe. I think Cutie would love to be friends with Button and share her dresses.”

“Really?” she asks enthusiastically, bouncing in her chair. “Button has a lot of friends already, but I think she’d like Cutie because they’re both bunnies!”

“Really,” you smile, watching as Phoebe’s eyes glitter with excitement. “That was all I had to share with everybody. Thank you so much for coming and learning with me. I hope you’ll come back to the museum and see me another time.”

You do another scan of the room, and quickly realize that in just a few minutes, over half of the class had finally succumbed to their midday sleepiness. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say to Mr. Byun as you walk around the classroom to gather your materials.

“What?” he asks, meeting you halfway with a handful of your felt replicas. “Why are you apologizing?”

“They fell asleep,” you sigh, turning to all twenty-six of them now happily snoozing against the tabletops.

“They’re five years old,” Mr. Byun reminds you. “And it’s 12pm on a Friday. I’d be more concerned if they weren’t napping right now.”

“Right,” you nod, packing up the basket before glancing over at Bryan cuddling Cutie and snoring softly. Without a word, Mr. Byun walks over and expertly plucks her from the boy’s grip and hands her back to you.

“Really, thank you,” he says, his voice soft enough for only you to hear. “It’s my first year teaching. I’ve been with these kids for a few weeks and I’ve never seen them as engaged in any of my lessons as they were today. I could learn something from you.”

You laugh. It isn’t until you look up from tucking Cutie away that you realize he’s being completely sincere. “I’m sorry. I thought it was a joke.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad I could make you laugh, even if it was by accident.”

“Y/N,” your coworker, Liv, pops her head into the classroom. “Team meeting starts in five.”

You glance at your watch with a frown, realizing that you've let time slip away from you.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, your gaze alternating between Mr. Byun and the twenty-six children who were fast asleep, knowing he’d have to wake them all up and make them walk back to school by himself soon. “I have to go.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. “This isn’t my first rodeo. Thank you, again, Miss Y/N.”

“Thank you, Mr. Byun,” you reply from the doorway. “Feel free to e-mail me. If the kids have any more questions when they wake up.”

“They always do,” he laughs, giving a small wave. You smile as you turn the corner, excited at the thought of hearing from him again.

SEPTEMBER

After a few weeks of nothing in your inbox from Mr. Byun, you accept that he and his class have probably forgotten all about you.

And then, on a random Saturday afternoon, an e-mail from him pops up in your notifications.

SUBJECT: A Belated Thank You Dear Miss Y/N, I’m sorry that this e-mail is coming so late. I don’t want you to think that I didn’t appreciate all of the work you had done to adjust your lesson for my students. Unfortunately, shortly after our visit, there was an outbreak of chicken pox at the school and things got a bit hectic. I hope you can forgive me. I’ve been thinking about the way you described everyday objects and how it changed not only the perspectives of the students, but mine as well. To be frank, I had never been much of a museum person before that day. I know I promised to let you know if any students had questions regarding your presentation, but I wanted to ask a bigger favor. I would love to build a project for the students around meaningful objects and the stories behind them, and would really appreciate it if you were able to recommend any readings so that I could have a better understanding of the topics you discussed during our visit. Please don’t trouble yourself with this request. I’d be happy to research everything on my own, but I figured I’d ask the expert first. Looking forward to hearing back and I hope you’ve been well. Have a good weekend. Sincerely, Euijoo Byun

Euijoo. You repeat his first name quietly to yourself, making sure to look up the proper pronunciation. The way he's written the e-mail feels so sincere, and you find yourself reading his words over and over.

Suddenly, you’re stuck in a cycle of writing and rewriting a response to him, your words feeling too robotic compared to his easygoing warmth. 

Eventually, you settle on a short list of essays and a few exclamation points.

SUBJECT: Re: A Belated Thank You Dear Euijoo, I really can’t thank you enough for your kind words, and I’m excited to hear that you’ll be implementing last month’s visit into your lesson plan! I’ve compiled a list of resources below. Coincidentally, I wrote my senior thesis on the topic, so I’ve attached a PDF of that as well. Please don’t feel compelled to read any or all of it—I know it’s long, and I’m sure I’ve changed my mind about much of what was written. If you’d like, I also have a copy that’s printed and bound that I’d be happy to let you borrow.  Please keep me updated on your student’s projects and have a good weekend! Sincerely, Y/N

Less than an hour later, he replies back asking if you’re free the next morning to meet at a café and give him your copy of your thesis.

When you get home that evening, you skip dinner to dig through your closet for the bound version that hasn’t been touched in years. 

Nicholas, your roommate, walks into the apartment close to midnight to see you and the coffee table you’ve covered in highlighters and sticky notes.

“Y/N,” he sighs, dropping his camera bag and tripod near the door before taking off his boots. “What’s going on?”

“Someone asked for my thesis.”

“You mean the bible on candy wrappers and quilts that you wrote three years ago when we were in uni? Someone asked to read it?”

“A kindergarten teacher asked.”

“A kindergarten teacher,” he repeats in disbelief, plopping onto the sofa in between your mess. 

“He brought his class to the museum and now he wants to know more about my research.”

“So, send him the PDF,” he groans, digging between the papers and couch cushions for the remote control to the TV. “I don’t even understand what you’re doing. It’s already written.”

“I’m annotating it,” you shrug, chewing on the end of your pen.

“You’re what?” Nicholas sits up, abandoning his quest to binge watch Gossip Girl to focus on you suffering through what he considers some sort of mental breakdown.

He picks up your abandoned sticky notes, each one somewhere between a footnote and an argument with your past self.

I would actually phrase this differently now. In fact, I’m not sure I agree at all. Ignore pages 43-46. I was wrong and stupid. Actually, this part aged surprisingly well.

“Y/N…” Nicholas continues, struggling to capture your attention as you analyze each passage. “What’s this guy’s name?”

“Euijoo Byun,” you reply absentmindedly, distracted by a particularly weak argument that makes you want to call the university and give back your degree. 

“Uh huh,” he nods, attempting to sound it out in his head before giving up. “Can you spell that?”

“E-U-I-J-O-O B-Y-U-N.”

“Got it, thanks.” Nicholas pats your head while his Instagram search loads. “Oh.”

You look up, his change in tone breaking you from your daze. “What?”

“Oh.” He raises his eyebrows as he scrolls.

“Nico, explain,” you frown, watching as he smirks at his phone screen.

“I get it now,” he says, turning his phone toward you. For a split second, you have no clue what you’re looking at. And then you feel your face get hot as the realization hits.

It’s Euijoo. At the beach on a family vacation. Shirtless.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, unable to process that that is what he looks like under his button ups and colorful sweaters. “Oh my god.”

“When do you have to give this to him?” Nicholas asks, your mouth still hanging open.

“Tomorrow morning…” you whine, suddenly feeling hopeless in your sea of incoherent scribbles. “At nine a.m.”

“You talk, I’ll write,” he says, sitting up to grab a pen and a stack of sticky notes. You haven’t seen him this locked in since the last season of Singles Inferno.

“I love you.”

“I’m only doing this in case he prefers guys, you know.”

“I know.”

It’s not a date, you remind yourself. Your leg is bouncing up and down under the café table as you play with the hem of your cardigan, which took you all morning to pick out. It’s just a quick meeting and he’ll pick up the book and make small talk and go home.

Except he pays for your coffee. And his hair is the perfect combination of neat and undone, and his glasses sit just right, and when you hand over your thesis, he smiles the cutest smile ever as his whole face lights up. But it’s not a date.

“Did you write all of these notes for me?” he asks in wonder as he skims through all of the pages.

“Yes,” you reply sheepishly, hoping he can’t tell that you’re blushing under your makeup. “I didn’t know how much context you’d need. Not that I think you’re uneducated! You’re obviously smart. Probably smarter than me. I just meant that it was written to be read by professors who’ve spent decades teaching history and anthropology and that maybe it would be helpful if I clarified a few things. I’m rambling. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says, his voice just as soft and warm as when he spoke to his students during the field trip. “That was really considerate of you. I hope it didn’t take too long.”

“Not long at all! Just like, six hours,” you blurt out, before realizing that it’s basically the same amount of time that's passed since he asked to borrow it, and now you look like a complete loser. 

Euijoo blinks back at you for a split second, unsure of how to respond to the implication that you've spent all of your free time preparing the book for him, although a smile creeps onto his face before he can actually decide.

“I really appreciate it, Y/N. I’ll make sure to read every word.”

Even with how formal he is, you like the way he says your name.

“You know, my students asked if you’ll be there when they present their projects. I told them you’re probably too busy.”

“I can make time,” you blurt out, almost too enthusiastically, before realizing he hasn’t even told you the date. “When is it?”

“On Friday,” he smiles softly, his shoulders relaxing. “I’d give them more time, but I’m afraid little brains don’t hold on to information for as long as ours do.”

“I’ll be there,” you promise, already knowing you’ll be counting down the days until the end of the week.

On Tuesday night, you e-mail Euijoo to ask if you should bring anything. Minutes later, he replies:

SUBJECT: Re: Friday Hi Y/N, Nothing but yourself, and Cutie if she’s available! Feel free to text me as well if that works better for you. 384-566-2986 See you soon, Euijoo

You blink back at his phone number, wondering what you could say that’s worth texting. It feels too accessible, like you haven’t yet earned the ability to contact him so easily.

But then, if you don’t say anything, he might think that you see the relationship as strictly professional.

Nicholas finds you sitting in the living room on Wednesday night, staring at the front door as if you were waiting for him to get home from work.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, laying down in his usual spot on the couch. “You have that look on your face. The overthinking one.”

“Euijoo gave me his phone number. To text him.”

“And? Is that not a good thing?”

“I don’t know what to say. And it’s already been a day and I never even replied to his e-mail and—”

“Give me your phone,” he says, grabbing it out of your hand before you can even process his words. “Hi Euijoo. It’s Y/N. Super excited for Friday. Exclamation point. Just wanted to make sure you had my number. Blushing smiley face emoji. And send. There. You’re welcome.”

Nicholas calmly places the phone in front of you before grabbing the remote, determined to finally continue his binge of Gossip Girl.

“Nico,” you panic as you stare at the screen. “He read it. And reacted with a heart. And now he’s typing.”

You throw the phone back into his lap like a hot potato.

“No, he’s not.” Nicholas says, trying to hand it back to you.

“He was! I saw the three dots.”

“Well they’re gone,” he says, still dangling the phone above your head. “Wait, actually. He’s typing. No, he stopped. And he’s typing again. Damn, you’re both overthinkers.”

“Keep it until he replies,” you say, your voice muffled. “If he replies.”

A few seconds later, you hear a ding.

“Hi Y/N. Exclamation point. I’m glad to hear from you. Period,” Nicholas reads out in a deadpan voice. “Everybody is so excited to see you again. Exclamation point. Smiley face emoji. End of text. God, he wants you so bad. I don’t know if I’m happy for you or irritated by how middle school this feels.”

“Everybody,” you repeat, ignoring your roommate’s snark and grabbing the phone back from him to stare at the text. “Everybody. That includes him!” 

“That’s usually what the word means,” he groans. “This is insufferable. Either turn off your notifications and find out what happens to Blair in Paris with me or go be in love in the privacy of your bedroom.”

“I should reply,” you pout.

“That’ll take four years. Just heart the message.”

“Just heart the message?”

“Yes. Now hurry up and come be the big spoon.”

On Friday, you wear your most colorful sweater and pack Cutie carefully into your work bag. She’s dressed in an outfit that you had specifically made for her to wear on special occasions, although you still feel kind of silly bringing your stuffed animal around in public.

But Euijoo specifically requested that you bring her, and the kids love her, and she makes you feel safe. So, into your bag she goes until it’s time for you to head over to the school at the end of the day.

The hours breeze by as you launch tours and give presentations and take notes on research papers that your team has dumped on you last minute.

And then, disaster in the form of thunder and a biblical rainstorm strikes.

You look out the window and see the torrential downpour, knowing that by the time you manage to walk over, your shoes will be soaked and your hair will be frizzy.

Except when you step outside of the museum, a familiar mop of brown hair is waiting for you, wrapped up in a lavender parka and holding an extra umbrella.

“Euijoo?” you blink at him in disbelief. “Don’t you have a class to be teaching?”

“They’re in the library for storytime,” he smiles, as if the weather behind him doesn’t look like it’s about to turn into a natural disaster. “I didn’t want you walking over on your own. Not when it’s like this. I mean, I planned on coming over anyway, but I was worried that you didn’t have an umbrella or a jacket, which you don’t, and then I remembered you might have Cutie with you too and I especially couldn’t let her get wet either.”

“I have a bad habit of not checking the weather when I leave the house,” you admit, taking the umbrella he's holding out for you. “Thank you.”

“Here,” he says, unzipping his jacket and shaking the rain off. “Wear this. I think it’s big enough to fit over your bag too.”

“Oh, Euijoo, it’s really okay–”

Before you can protest any further, he drapes the parka over you, still warm from his body heat.

“The color suits you,” he says, his soft voice nearly drowned out by the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. “Now, can you finish putting it on yourself or do you need my help with that too?”

“I–I can do it,” you stutter, rushing to pull your arms through the sleeves, zipping the front up to your chin. Euijoo laughs when you pull the hood over your head, your eyes barely visible from how much it hangs down onto your face.

“Cute.” The word slips off his tongue so naturally that you barely realize it’s a compliment as he ushers you along. “Come on, let’s go.”

Walking ten minutes through a thunderstorm isn’t so bad with him by your side. 

You're so preoccupied with jumping over puddles that you almost don't notice his hand on your back, keeping you from getting washed away.

Finally, you make it inside the school with Euijoo. The older woman at the front desk smiles at the two of you, your visitor’s pass already filled out and ready to go.

“I haven’t been in an elementary school, well, since I finished the fifth grade,” you laugh as you follow him to his classroom, remembering how small you must’ve been back then. “My favorite thing was walking down the hall and making sure that I stepped in every tile perfectly—no cracks allowed.”

Now, your feet are almost too big to fit inside the squares. 

“You can wait here if you want, while I go pick up the kids,” he says, gesturing inside toward his desk. “It’ll only take a few minutes. You and Cutie can get comfortable.”

It always strikes you how he never fails to acknowledge Cutie. To most people, she’s your stuffed animal, but Euijoo seems to understand just how important she is despite never asking why.

You carefully unpack Cutie, smoothing down her dress and brushing the fur on her ears down before wandering around the room.

It looks exactly how you imagined it. Bright colors and the alphabet and cute cartoons decorate the walls, but every crayon and toy is organized into neat containers. Even the desks have handwritten nametags that are laminated and adorned with stickers.

Some of the picture books on the shelves look old and worn, and you wonder if they belonged to Euijoo as a child.

“Miss Museum Lady!” a girl’s voice calls from behind you, and you turn to see Hannah excitedly running up to hug you, followed by several other students.

“Alright class,” Euijoo laughs, grabbing their attention. “Let’s all come sit on the rug and give Miss Y/N some space, okay? 

“Yes, Mr. Byun,” they say in unison, quickly scrambling into their designated spots on the rainbow carpet. A few kids run off to dig through their backpacks, and a couple more grab something from their cubbies. Each one sits down with something that’s special to them in their laps and eagerly awaits Euijoo’s instructions.

He sits cross-legged against the bookshelves facing the students, and pats the space beside him for you and Cutie to join.

A girl raises her hand, and you smile as you notice she’s holding onto her own stuffed bunny. Phoebe and Button, you remind yourself.

“Phoebe,” Euijoo says, calling on her.

“Can I go first, Mr. Byun?” she asks, her eyes never leaving you and Cutie.

“I was just about to ask for volunteers,” he smiles, gesturing for her to come to the front of the class. 

Phoebe jumps up, Button’s ears flopping as she hops past her classmates to the front.

She holds Button up high for everyone to see, like baby Simba. 

“This is Button! She has buttons for eyes and buttons on her shirt and she’s a very good bunny. She was my mommy’s before she was mine, so she’s kind of old like Mr. Byun and Miss Y/N, but we still get along. We love each other very much and cuddle together every night at bedtime. Oh, and she wants to be friends with Cutie so she can have pretty dresses too! Um… uh… Mr. Byun. Can I be done now?”

“That was very good, Phoebe. You and Button can sit back down.”

“Miss Y/N,” she turns to you, suddenly shy. “Can Cutie come sit with Button?”

“Cutie would love to sit with Button!” you say, happily handing her over.

“Thank you!” Phoebe squeaks, pressing the two bunnies into a hug before running back to her spot with them.

Twenty-five more presentations happen, and you aren’t sure if you would have ever predicted using your degree to listen to five-year-olds ramble about pet rocks, Pokemon cards, and their late grandma’s dentures, but you’re happy to be there regardless.

Lastly, Euijoo presents his own object. It’s a picture book, maybe even older than the ones you had seen on the bookshelves earlier, and you swear you recognize the character on the front despite it being written in a language you don’t understand.

“Does anybody know who this is?” Euijoo asks the class, pointing at the little fish on the cover.

“PONYO!” several kids shout back, jogging your memory of the long-forgotten animated film that you had seen on TV as a little girl.

“Ponyo,” Euijoo confirms, nodding his head. “In Korea, where my family is from, Ponyo’s movie is called Byeolang Wiui Ponyo, or Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea. My mom and dad, or amma and appa in Korean, used to read this book to me when I was your age.”

“Mr. Byun, you look like her,” Bryan points at Ponyo, and then back at his teacher. “You have the same face.”

“You kind of do,” you giggle, glancing between Euijoo and the little Ponyo on the cover of the book. “I think it’s your eyes.”

Euijoo blushes. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that. My friends used to sing the song to me whenever we had swimming lessons as kids.”

“Can we sing the song?” Emmy asks.

“It can be our clean up song today,” Euijoo smiles, putting the book down. “But before we get ready to head home, does anybody have any questions for Miss Y/N.”

“I do!” Ava asks, waving her hand high so everyone can see. She brought in a tiara from a beauty pageant that she had competed in over the summer, calling it a reminder of “how much prettier and better she was than every other girl.”

“Okay, Ava, go ahead,” Euijoo prompts. 

“Is Miss Y/N your wife?” she asks with a completely straight face.

The class erupts in giggles as you and Euijoo exchange glances that are a cross between mortified and amused.

“She can’t be,” Charlie argues. “They don’t have matching rings! Miss Y/N has, like, four rings and Mr. Byun has zero. My dad just got married to my stepmom and I had to carry the rings on a little pillow during the wedding.”

The crowd falls silent, with twenty-six pairs of little eyes looking to the two of you for a confirmation of Charlie’s claims.

“We aren’t married,” you admit, resulting in several awws and a few frowns.

“Well, when will you get married?” Ava continues, not understanding. “Can I be the flower girl? Or are teachers not allowed to get married?”

Before you can struggle with coming up with an answer, the theme song to Ponyo starts blasting. You turn to Euijoo, who has snuck away to connect his phone to the speaker. The kids immediately get up and start running around, singing the lyrics sort-of correctly while tidying the room and packing up their bags.

Phoebe comes over to you to return Cutie, whose ears have been flipped up into little buns, and Button gives her another hug goodbye.

It isn’t much longer until the kids are being escorted outside to buses or pickup lanes, and then it’s just you and Euijoo.

“That went about as well as I thought it would,” he laughs, and for the first time, you notice that he has a dimple on one of his cheeks. “I’m sorry they thought you were my wife. Or my fiancée. Or any sort of romantic partner.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you say, tucking Cutie back into your bag for the journey home. “I had a lot of fun today.”

“Me too,” he agrees, running his hand through his hair. It’s still messy from the rain earlier, but he looks good anyway.

“It really means a lot to me that you asked me to be here. Or that you even put this together at all. You know, I spend a lot of time trying to convince my colleagues that some things are worth being put on display, and with you and your students… I feel like I don’t have to try so hard.”

“I’m glad, Y/N. I think you’re brilliant. I mean, I read your thesis and the amount of passion you have and the way you think… It’s so different. In a good way.”

“You finished it?” you ask, slightly shocked at how it’s only taken him a little under a week to go through your original writing and the insane amount of extra notes you and Nicholas crammed inside.

“No,” he frowns, a bit embarrassed. “I’m only halfway through. But you can have it back if you need it.”

“I don’t. It’s been sitting in my closet for years.”

“It has?” The confused look on his face tells you that maybe you should have just said it was on a bookshelf.

“Keep it as long as you need,” you smile awkwardly.

“Okay. Do you need to head back to the museum? I can walk you over.”

“I took a half day.”

“Ah,” he nods.

The classroom goes quiet.

“Are you going home?” you ask.

“I was going to cut some butterflies out of construction paper for next week.”

“Do you need help?”

Euijoo thinks for a split second.

“No,” he replies.

“Oh.” He wants you to leave, you think to yourself. “Okay.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, realizing how rude he must have sounded. “I just meant that I could do it myself.”

“I understand.” You pretend to check the time on your watch. “I’ll head to the train station then.”

“I can walk you out,” he insists. God, he’s so eager for you to go that he wants to personally escort you out of the building.

“I won’t get lost,” you laugh, walking towards the classroom door.

“I know,” he smiles, following you and closing the door behind him.

You don’t hear from him after the visit. You don’t reach out, either.

Nicholas watches you agonize for two weeks straight over the loss of your sexy kindergarten teacher.

“Just text him,” he says. “Tell him you want him.”

“You’re crazy,” you reason. “He’s clearly not interested.”

You have no idea that for the past two weeks since you visited his classroom, Euijoo hasn’t stopped thinking about you either.

“Can we go back to the museum?” one student asks.

“When is Miss Y/N coming back?” another says a few days later, getting a couple more students to agree that they miss you.

“Have you proposed to her yet?” Ava checks in with him daily. One day, she even comes into class with a printed out image of what dress she’d wear to be the flower girl.

Not to mention the stack of thank-you notes the kids have written for you. They pester him about when he’s going to give them to you, and then he agonizes over whether he should text or e-mail and spends so long stressing himself out that he gives up.

Eventually, he decides that an e-mail feels safer.

SUBJECT: Thank You Cards from the Class Dear Y/N, The class wrote thank you cards after your visit. Would it be okay for me to stop by the museum to give them to you? Sincerely, Euijoo

Your heart jumps out of your chest when you get the notification for it, too excited to hear from him to care how overly formal his language seems. 

“Do you think this means he doesn’t want me to text him?” you ask Nicholas.

“I think it means he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to text you,” he replies in between bites of his sandwich, the answer seeming so clear to him. “So, you should text him. Hi Euijoo, that sounds good. Exclamation point. Stop by at any time. Period. Just let me know when you’re here. Period. See you soon. Exclamation point. Smiley face emoji. Send.”

“Okay,” you nod, opening up the text thread to type exactly what he’s just said.

“I can’t keep orchestrating these conversations,” he reminds you. “You’re going to have to learn how to text him yourself eventually.”

“He hearted the message,” you say, ignoring him and staring at the three blinking dots. “He’s typing.”

“This is my life now,” he sighs, using the moment to steal a fry off your plate.

Euijoo stops by on a Wednesday at the end of your work day, the cards tucked safely into a manila envelope to avoid getting smushed inside his bag. His bike is propped against one of the pillars nearby.

“Hi,” you say when you step outside.

“Hi,” he replies, awkwardly holding out the envelope like a mailman. “These are for you.”

When you open it and pull out the first one, you laugh. Not because it’s written in crayon, or that 'museum' is spelled wrong, or that there’s a really crude drawing of you and Button.

It’s because they’re written on construction paper butterflies.

“These are the butterflies,” you start, looking up at Euijoo. “The ones you said you were going to cut out after the presentations. I offered to help you and told me no.”

“I remember,” he nods, fiddling with the strap of his bag

“How come?” you ask, tilting your head.

Euijoo shrugs, “I didn’t want you to help make your own gifts.”

You realize how much you had misunderstood him that afternoon.

He didn’t say no because he wanted you to leave. He said no because he didn’t want to make you work on something that was intended to thank you.

Museum visitors shuffle past you, in and out the front doors of the building.

“Have you eaten yet?” You peer up at him to see his eyebrows raised.

“No,” he answers. “Have you?”

“No.” You stare at your shoes, an invitation on the tip of your tongue, held in by embarrassment.

A group of senior citizens walk past, complaining about the stairs. 

“Do you want to get dinner together?” Euijoo asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” you answer a bit too quickly. 

You walk over to an udon shop together. The meal lasts an hour. The conversation lasts until the waiter has to come over and tell you that they’re closing for the night.

It starts with small talk—how you ended up in your respective fields, what kind of TV shows you like. And then it devolves into silly stories from the classroom, an interlude about Nicholas, and how often you watch horror movies even though they give you nightmares because you love how they make you “feel alive.”

He walks you to the train station after.

You go to bed with a smile on your face. Euijoo goes to bed with a list of showtimes for the newest zombie movie saved on his phone.

OCTOBER

Six movies and several meals together solidifies Euijoo as a regular fixture in your life.

“Have you kissed yet?” Nicholas asks every time you come home, and every time, you shake your head no and insist that things are strictly platonic between the two of you.

Nicholas is never quite convinced.

“How many times have you bought your own movie ticket?” he asks you. The answer is zero. Then, he reminds you that you’ve also never paid for a meal. Then, he finishes off his argument by looking up the average salary of an elementary school teacher in your area.

Arguing with him is starting to get really difficult.

Eventually, he starts asking if he can come hang out with the two of you. For research purposes, of course.

“I don’t want him to feel awkward,” you say.

“Why would he feel awkward?” Nicholas asks.

“You’re attracted to him.”

“So are you,” he shrugs.

“But you’d make it obvious.”

“You’re not as subtle as you think,” he laughs. “Look, just admit they’re dates and I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

You stare back at him, speechless.

Minutes later, you book a brunch reservation for three.

“So, how long have you guys been dating?” Euijoo asks once you get seated at the restaurant.

You look at Nicholas. He’s holding back a laugh.

Euijoo waits patiently for an answer before he realizes it’s not coming.

“I’m sorry,” he starts again. “That was rude, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not her boyfriend,” Nicholas replies, turning to you. “Did you tell him I was?”

“No!” you swear. “I guess I just never said the word roommate?”

“You didn’t,” Euijoo confirms, filing away this new tidbit of information. “You’ve only ever called him Nicholas.”

Your face flushes with embarrassment as you try to remember every time you’ve brought him up to Euijoo in the past couple of months. Statements like “Nicholas is making dinner tonight” or “I'd love to, but Nicholas and I are going to the aquarium” pop into your head.

“Oh my god,” you say, mortified at the idea that your crush has assumed your roommate was your boyfriend this entire time and it’s all your fault.

“We’re not dating, by the way,” Nicholas says, completely amused by the situation.

“Understood,” Euijoo nods. 

A few seconds later, the waiter brings over menus and the three of you manage to have a relatively normal and pleasant conversation.

You tell Euijoo that you and Nicholas are friends from college. Nicholas clarifies that he’s your only friend from college. You kick him underneath the table.

Euijoo finds out Nicholas speaks a little bit of Korean. Nicholas asks Euijoo if he has any fancy skincare recommendations and says he has beautiful skin. Another kick.

Euijoo makes a bad joke. You laugh really loudly anyway. This time, Nicholas kicks you.

The meal ends with Nicholas picking up the check, using the moment to flash his fancy credit card. 

“My treat,” he clicks his teeth and winks at Euijoo, “I know how much you’ve been spoiling my girl.” 

Euijoo’s face turns bright red. You give your roommate one final kick.

Nicholas teases you about the boyfriend thing on the entire walk home while limping.

A week later, Euijoo asks if you’re doing anything for Halloween.

“The school is having a festival,” he explains. “I thought you might like to come. My students miss you.”

“Do I need to wear a costume?” you ask, already mentally planning an outfit.

“Only if you want to,” he answers. And that’s how easily plans get made between the two of you now.

Somehow, without coordinating anything, the two of you end up matching. 

When Euijoo comes to your apartment to pick you up, Nicholas opens the door and immediately groans.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he says loud enough for you to hear from your room, gesturing for Euijoo to come inside.

“What is it?” you call back, walking out while adjusting your bunny ear headband. Then, you see him.

You’re dressed as Cutie. Euijoo is also dressed as Cutie. The two of you look like Mr. and Mrs. Cutie, with the real Cutie being your baby.

Nicholas is dressed as a “sexy werewolf,” which means he has on a fur coat, no shirt, and claw marks he made you draw onto his neck using one of your lip liners.

“I thought you said the two of you weren’t going to match,” Nicholas says from the couch.

“I said we hadn’t talked about our costumes,” you correct him. “I kept changing my mind.”

“So, you’re telling me this happened naturally,” Nicholas continues.

“Yes,” Euijoo confirms, holding Cutie while you buckle the straps on your mary-janes. “I thought she’d like it.”

“I do,” you smile at him.

“I’m going to throw up,” he whines, although you know he’s secretly happy for you. In his own way, of course.

“Go get drunk at your own party,” you counter, sticking out your tongue. “Bye Nico. Stay safe. Use protection. Love you.”

“Bye, Nicholas,” Euijoo waves as the two of you walk out the front door.

In between passing out candy to students, you realize that this is the first time you and Euijoo are hanging out without the pretense of watching a movie or eating a meal.

It’s not like conversations between the two of you are difficult. In fact, they’ve only gotten easier the more time you spend together, but they're usually limited to topical things like whether or not he liked a certain scene or how your food tastes. Sometimes, the two of you just eat in silence.

You don’t really know much about him. You want so badly for that to change.

When Ava walks in with her parents, she’s dressed as Elvis. Almost immediately, she points at you and Euijoo with a big grin on her face.

“Look,” she yells at her parents. “Mr. Byun and the museum lady that he won’t marry are bunnies!”

They nod before smiling apologetically at the two of you.

“Ava,” her mother reminds her. “You’re supposed to say ‘trick or treat.’”

“Trick or treat,” she says as she skips up to the desk.

“Hi Ava,” Euijoo laughs, grabbing a handful of candy from the pumpkin-shaped bowl. “Happy Halloween.”

“Thank you, thank you very much,” she says in her best Elvis impression, and then swaggers out with her parents in tow.

“What kind of music did you listen to when you were a kid?” Euijoo asks. “Elvis?”

“No,” you giggle. “I liked Taylor Swift. And Hannah Montana. And High School Musical.”

“I didn’t listen to any of that,” he replies, almost embarrassed. “I really liked Girl’s Generation.”

“That’s a k-pop group, right?” you ask, sure that you’ve heard of them before. Euijoo nods.

“I used to listen to Wonder Girls a lot,” you continue. “Well… one song. It was called Nobody. I don’t think I knew they were singing in Korean, though.” 

“I really liked them too,” he smiles. “I used to think I would grow up one day and marry Sohee.”

“Is that the one from Train to Busan? The baseball girl?” 

“Yep,” he says, seemingly impressed by your very limited knowledge of Korean pop culture.

“She’s pretty,” you nod, mentally comparing your features to hers.

“Y/N,” Euijoo interrupts your thoughts. “Can you make me a playlist? I can make you one, too. If you want.”

“Of course,” you smile.

Later, Emmy comes in dressed like a blueberry, explaining that she’s allergic to them and that they were the scariest thing she could think of.

“That’s my big brother,” she smiles, revealing that she’s lost one of her front teeth. She points at the boy that walked in with her.

He stands in the doorway with his arms crossed, wearing a plain hoodie and cargo shorts. He looks old enough to be in high school.

“You deserve some candy, too,” you motion him over with a smile. “For being such a good blueberry escort.”

He hesitates before walking over, accepting the candy.

“Thanks,” he says, stuffing it into his pocket. 

“Our dad works the night shift,” Emmy adds, before dragging her brother to the next room.

Afterwards, Euijoo asks if you have any siblings.

“I’m an only child,” you tell him. “What about you?”

“I have an older sister,” he answers. “She still lives in Korea. I think she’d like you a lot if she met you, though.”

“That sounds really nice.” You hesitate before continuing. “I always thought it would be nice to have someone else around.”

“You had your parents,” Euijoo says. “At least you never had to worry about who was the favorite child or fight over the remote control.”

Immediately, he can tell by the face you make that his words have landed wrong.

“My parents are divorced,” you admit, your voice quieter than before. “And my mom was always at work. Or she was tired and just wanted to sleep.”

He nods, staring at you with a sad look on his face. Silence creeps in.

“Please don’t feel bad for me,” you continue, your grip on Cutie tightening, worried that you’ve said too much.

“I wasn’t,” he counters, his eyebrows furrowing. “I promise. I just… felt guilty.”

“Guilty?” you ask, surprised by his choice of words.

“It was wrong of me to make assumptions. I wanted to make you feel better and instead I said something stupid.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reply.

Euijoo takes a moment to think about what he wants to say next.

“I don’t like thinking of you being lonely.” His glasses have slipped down the bridge of his nose from him staring at the floor for so long.

“I’m not lonely anymore,” you say gently. 

Euijoo looks up to see you smiling at him.

“Good,” he says, smiling back.

NOVEMBER

“You know,” you say, watching Euijoo unlock his bike from the rack after school one day. “I don’t actually know how to ride a bike. I never had one growing up, and I always felt like it was too embarrassing to try and learn as an adult.”

“If it makes you feel better, I can’t drive. Or rollerskate.”

“I can’t do those things either,” you counter.

“So, nothing with wheels?”

“Basically.”

“I could teach you… how to ride a bike. I think mine might be a bit too big for you, though, but we could rent one.”

“I don’t really want to pay to humiliate myself in front of you and whoever else is nearby.”

“I’ll pay.”

“This isn’t really about the money,” you laugh, although you know he’s not going to take no for an answer.

You meet in the park on Sunday morning, the leaves crunching beneath your feet as Euijoo wheels a rental bike beside you.

You stop when you reach a patch of grass that’s relatively flat, and more importantly, devoid of human life.

He helps you clip the chin strap of your dorky helmet and you already feel like quitting.

“Euijoo,” you pout. “Wouldn’t you rather do something else? We can go home and watch a Doosan Bears game.”

“You don’t even like baseball,” he says, walking toward the bike and kicking up the stand. “Or speak Korean.”

“But you do,” you attempt to reason with him, getting close and batting your eyelashes. “And I know you’ll explain everything to me.”

He swallows hard and for a split second, you think you’ve won.

“One hour,” he tells you, his voice soft even though you can tell he wants to be strict. “And then we can watch a Doosan Bears game.”

The hour consists of you sitting on the bike seat while Euijoo holds the handles, getting scared, and then begging to get off. Plus, a snack break. And a water break. And a cloud watching break.

“I told you I didn’t want to learn,” you say as Euijoo peels the orange that you brought for him.

“I underestimated just how stubborn you are,” he says, handing you the first segment. 

“I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“I never said that,” he frowns.

“You rented a bike for me and I didn’t even pedal it.”

“But I still had fun,” he insists. “I got to spend time in the park with you. You gave me this orange. I saw a cloud that was shaped like a guinea pig.”

Your guilt melts at how the simplest of things seem to make him happy. “I had fun too.”

“I'm glad,” he smiles. “That’s all that matters.”

You’re confused when Nicholas asks if you want to host a Friendsgiving at the apartment this year.

“You don’t like cooking,” you remind him. “Or inviting people over because it means you have to clean.”

“What’s your point?” he shrugs, as if you’re supposed to read his mind.

“I’m not sure what you have to gain from this,” you continue.

“Ouch.” He pretends to be hurt. “Who said everything’s about me? What if a little birdy told me that he doesn’t have any plans for the holiday and I just want to make sure that he gets fed.”

You stare at him blankly.

“The little birdy is named Euijoo,” he adds.

“Yeah, I got that,” you reply.

It doesn’t take long to put together a guest list of people who will still be in town—Euijoo, his friend, Fuma, from his rec baseball team, two of your coworkers, and three people that Nicholas just… knows.

On the day of the party, Euijoo brings a basket of chestnuts and persimmons and spends the morning trying to teach you how to make jeon, except your attempts somehow turn out both raw and burnt. His are perfect, though.

“My amma taught me,” he smiles, flipping another jeon using chopsticks. “I’d always help her make these for Chuseok.”

He looks over to see you with a smudge of flour on the tip of your nose as you watch him fry the next batch.

“Y/N,” Euijoo says to grab your attention, setting his chopsticks down. You look up at him, confused.

Without a word, he gently reaches to wipe the flour from your nose. “That’s better.”

He quickly goes back to watching the pan. You distract yourself from overthinking the feeling of his skin touching yours, squatting down to stare at your cake baking in the oven.

“How does it look?” he asks.

“Looks fine,” you tell him, standing back up. “I should probably make the frosting soon.”

“I’m almost done. I’ll help you.”

He doesn’t understand the idea of a hummingbird cake. Bananas, pineapple, cinnamon, walnuts, and cream cheese seem random. The name doesn’t make sense to him, either.

Still, he helps you mix up the frosting ingredients and level out the cake layers because you’re scared of knives.

You take a scrap of cake and some of the frosting to do a taste test. Euijoo does the same.

“It’s good,” he says, a bit surprised. “Really good.”

“I told you it would be,” you smile. 

Before you know it, your cake is all decorated and everybody is showing up with their own homemade dishes. 

Fuma brings yaki onigiri and Japanese potato salad. Your coworkers arrive together with trays of pasteles and mac and cheese. Nicholas’s guests, all a bit fashionably late, file in with jalapeño cheddar cornbread, lumpia, and stuffed grape leaves.

You stare at the large platter of Chiayi turkey rice that Nicholas has paid some fancy Taiwanese restaurant to deliver, sitting right in the middle of the table, and laugh at the fact that of course he’s broken his own rules.

“Hold on,” Nicholas says, while everybody holds their plates and waits for permission to dig in. “I wanna get a picture.”

He pulls out his digicam and spends five minutes tweaking the layout and finding the perfect angle and lighting to capture each dish. Finally, he puts it away and lets everybody eat.

It doesn’t take long for people to break away into their own conversations.

“Y/N,” Fuma says, sitting down next to you. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“I’m really glad you could make it,” you smile at him. “I think you’re the only person who brought two dishes.”

“I’ve never celebrated Thanksgiving,” he confesses. “Or, Friendsgiving, I guess. And I was excited to finally meet you.”

“You were?” you raise your eyebrows while biting into one of the rice balls he made.

“Mhmm,” he hums. “Euijoo talks about you a lot. I always say that he should bring you to one of our games and he always says that you’d just make him nervous.”

“I don’t know why he’d say that,” you laugh. “I’d just cheer like normal. Plus, I still don’t really know anything about baseball.”

Fuma is amused by how you downplay your effect on his friend, who he’s spent every week for the past couple of months trying to get to ask you on a real date.

“Is that an Eevee keychain?” your eyes go wide when you notice his bag. 

“She’s my favorite,” he smiles and nods. “You like Pokémon?”

“I don’t know that much about it, but I do have a few cards,” you explain sheepishly. “And I made up a team for if I were a trainer, but it was mostly just the cute ones.”

Euijoo is a few feet over talking to Nayeli, one of your coworkers, who’s telling him about her research. He overhears your laugh and smiles when he sees you getting along with Fuma. 

It’s not long before everybody’s saying thank yous and goodbyes before heading home, leaving you with a mountain of dirty dishes.

“I told you we should’ve just bought paper plates,” Nicholas groans.

“If you’re just going to complain the whole time then I can do them by myself,” you tell him, already pulling on rubber dish gloves.

“I can help,” Euijoo offers.

“You’re a guest,” you shake your head at him.

“Let the man help,” Nicholas tells you before retreating to his bedroom to begin his food coma.

You know Euijoo well enough to know that he’s going to help whether you give him permission or not. 

“I’ll wash and you dry,” you explain. He nods, moving to stand on your right.

For a little bit, the two of you quietly complete your tasks like an assembly line, using the silence to decompress.

Usually, hanging out with someone and not saying anything would make you nervous. You’re used to rambling in order to fill up the conversation, but with Euijoo, you don’t feel the need to perform.

“I wish I could’ve made galbi,” he says, breaking the silence. 

“That sounds so good,” you muse, handing him another plate. “Next year.”

The words slip out of your mouth before you’re able to realize what you've said.

It’s not like you to promise things so far ahead in the future. But when you think of celebrating the holiday again, you know more than anything that you want him to be there.

Euijoo tries not to let you see him smile too big.

“Next year,” he nods.

taglist: @roryboryalis @saranghoeforanton @odetolune @euijooswife @rinforu @purplethepopstar @sukistargirl @heesoulnotes @laurateezzzzz @yvalrik

[cerezitamour]

riki (mauss, nishimura, takayama...) ⓘ munch!riki you're needy he is really sweet unprotected sex lots of petnames creampie

skye! after several weeks of writer's block, i finally could make something useful! it was supposed to be a maki fic, but @nichozzystuffs suggested to make it a "riki" fic because it suits them well and here it is <3

the bedroom was a sanctuary of soft fabrics and pastel colors, but right now, you were a trembling mess of need.

you lay sprawled across the mattress, clutching a mountain of plushies to your chest—squishy bears, long cats, and soft bunnies acting as a fluffy barrier between you and the big buffy man hovering over you.

riki looked down at you with those gentle, adoring eyes, a small, patient smile playing on his lips. he could see the way your hips were twitching, the way your breath was coming in shallow needy hitches. you wanted him—you wanted him desperately—but you were too shy to move your hoard of stuffed animals.

“are you feeling a bit impatient, sweetheart?” riki whispered, his voice like velvet.

you let out a small, pathetic whimper, squeezing a large teddy bear tighter against your breasts. “just… just want you, ki,” you gasped, your voice strained with arousal.

riki chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in his chest. he didn’t just shove the toys aside; that wouldn’t be his way. he knows how important each one of them are for you. instead, he leaned down, his face inches from the first plushie.

“excuse me, mr. pickles,” riki murmured politely, gently grasping the teddy by its arm. “i’m very sorry to disturb your nap, but i need to get to my girlfriend.” with a careful movement, he set the bear aside on the nightstand.

you let out a shaky breath, your toes curling into the sheets. the sheer politeness of it, contrasted with the hunger you could see simmering in his gaze made your clit throb.

“and you, little whiskers,” he continued, his fingers brushing against the soft fur of the stuffed bunny. “forgive me, but you’re in the way of something really important.” he tucked the bunny neatly at the foot of the bed.

one by one, riki systematically cleared the path. he apologized to every single plushie, his tone sweet and sincere, while his eyes remained locked on yours, darkening with intent. by the time the last plushie was moved, you were completely exposed, your legs draped open and your damp heat radiating into the cool air.

“there we go,” riki whispered, his voice dropping an octave. “now there’s nothing left to stop me.

he didn’t waste another second, sliding down the bed, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips with a sudden, firm possessiveness.

he parted your legs wide, exposing your glistening, swollen folds to the light. you were dripping, your pussy leaking a steady stream of arousal that coated your inner thighs.

“you’re so wet for me, sweetheart,” he praised, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “did you miss me that much?”

before you could answer, riki buried his face between your legs. his tongue lashed out in one long, wet stroke, licking from your perineum all the way up to your clit.

you arched your back, a loud, needy moan ripping from your throat. “ki! ngh~~” you sobbed, your fingers digging into the mattress.

he didn’t stop, lapping at you with rhythmic, greedy strokes, his tongue flat and broad as he soaked your pussy in saliva. he focused his attention on your clit, swirling his tongue around the engorged nub, flicking it rapidly until you were shaking. he sucked the small pearl of flesh into his mouth, pulling it with a gentle suction that sent electric shocks straight to your core.

you were completely undone, your hips bucking wildly against his face. riki hummed against you, the vibration of his throat sending fresh waves of pleasure through your nerves. he used his fingers to spread your lips wider, diving in deeper with his tongue, probing the entrance of your tight hole while continuing to tease your clit.

“you’re so sweet, honey,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice muffled by your wetness.

he increased the pace, his tongue working in a blur of friction and moisture. he licked you faster and harder, his suction becoming more intense. you felt the pressure building, a tight coil of tension snapping in your gut.

“k-ki… i’m gonna—!”

riki didn’t let up. he used his thumbs to press firmly into your hips, holding you still so he could devour you completely. he sucked your clit one last time, hard and deep, and you exploded. your walls clamped down around nothing, your body shuddering in a violent, toe-curling orgasm that left you gasping for air.

as the waves of pleasure slowly receded, riki didn’t pull away immediately. he lingered, giving you a few more soft, lingering licks to clean up your juices, before looking up at you with a sweet, triumphant and slick smile.

“i hope the plushies don’t mine,” he whispered, kissing your inner thigh. “because i plan on doing that again.”

riki didn’t move from between you legs, his face still glistening with your cream. he looked up at you, his expression a mixture of pure adoration and a hunger that hadn’t been fully sated.

while you were still floating in the afterglow, your breath coming in ragged gasps, he could see the way your thighs were still trembling, the way your pussy was still clenching and leaking.

“you’re so beautiful when you’re cumming, sweetheart,” he said, voice thick.

he didn’t give you time to recover, shifting his weight and sliding his body up to yours until he was hovering over you, his chest brushing against your sensitive nipples. he captured your lips in a deep, slow kiss, his tongue dancing with yours while his hand slid down to find your clit again.

the moment his fingers touched your swollen nub, you let out a sharp, needy cry. your arms flying to his shoulders so you could sink your nails into the flesh. you were hypersensitive, every touch feeling like a bolt of electricity.

riki noticed the reaction and chuckled, his thumb beginning to circle your clit in a slow, agonizingly perfect rhythm.

“still so needy, baby,” he murmured against your lips. “think we need to make sure you’re completely spent, sweetheart.”

he shifted again, guiding his hard cock to the entrance of your soaking wet hole. he didn’t plunge in immediately, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit and the opening of your pussy, smearing your juices across his length. you arched your back, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist, pulling him closer.

“please, ki… now… need you now,” you whimpered, voice breaking.

with a soft, loving smile and a peck to your lips, he pushed inside. he entered you in one slow, steady glide, filling you completely. you let out a long, shaky moan, your internal muscles clamping tightly around his girth. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness, his forehead resting against yours.

“feel so tight… so warm,” he groaned, his composure finally cracking.

he began to move, starting with shallow, teasing thrusts that barely penetrated, just enough to friction against your most sensitive spots. each time he pulled back, you whimpered, begging for more. then, he drove deep, his hips slamming against yours with a wet, slapping sound that echoed in the quiet room.

the friction was intense. riki focused on the angle, tilting his hips so that with every thrust, he was grinding his pubic bone directly against your clit. the combination of the internal stretching and the external pressure was overwhelming. you were clawing at his back, your nails digging into his skin as you chased the peak.

“that’s it, baby… take it all, it’s yours,” riki encouraged, his voice a low growl. he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster, harder, and more rhythmic. he was no longer the polite boy who apologized to your plushies; he was a man possessed by the need to make you scream.

you felt the tension building again, faster and more violently than before. your vision began to blur, and the only thing in the world was the feeling of riki filling you and the friction of his skin against yours. you were on the precipice, your breath hitching in your throat.

“ki… again…”

“cum for me, sweetheart. give it all to me, yeah?” he urged, his voice strained.

he delivered three final, devastatingly deep thrusts, bottoming out inside you and griding his weight firmly agaisnt your clit. the trigger was enough. you exploded in a violent, crashing orgasm that felt like a tidal wave.

your walls pulsed and squeezed his cock in rhythmic spasms, your entire body shaking with the intensity of the release.

riki let out a guttural groan, his own climax triggered by the tight grip of your orgasm. he thrust one time, burying himself as deep as possible, and let out a loud moan as he came, filling you with hot, thick spurts of cum.

he collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy and synchronized with yours. he stayed buried inside you, savoring the feeling of your muscles slowly relaxing around him.

taglist. @spacejip @lyvhie @strawikus @pgwkzworld @nichozzystuffs @andrealvsmakii @kurimurii @guliexe @sh1n3-4h4na @lyrarinn @kyrellsvalentine @haerinvd @taelvvrzz @riri4andy @saturnsfae

if you like my fics would you please consider tipping me?

[7yataki]

imagine... 💭 bear hybrid!euijoo who makes your heart ache with how soft he is. his ears that you adore playing with, running your fingers along the thick fur. he always warns you not to rub them too hard because they're sensitive. his thick, fluffy hair that your fingers card through has him groaning, shifting his body against you like a bear finding the perfect tree to use as a scratching post. he's so adorable when you stop mid-petting session, looking at the way his ears droop down, nudging your hand with his nose for more. you can never resist the urge to kiss him all over his face when you spot that subtle pout.

bear!juju with his lean figure, big broad shoulders, and strength where he could easily throw you over his shoulder, manhandling you however he pleases. regardless of how tall you are—he's towering over you. his size difference kink ignites when he imagines you on all fours under him, big body draped over yours as he pounds into you from behind. his teeth nibble on your shoulder, not enough to break skin but enough to remind you of what he's capable of doing. you're so overwhelmed by how long he's been at this, moans are muffled by the pillow as he takes you deeper and slower, having his sweet time with you.

"look at you, so tight," his voice deep and rumbly. "taking all of me like you're made for me." 𖹭

[isaidimafuckingstar]

wdym i cant put my hand down your pants im literally an empath

[lovfufuuu]

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙥

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: soccer player!Maki x f!r

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: you and your bestfriend went to the stadium to watch your university football club, and suddenly you get wet just because of him staring at you?

𝓽𝔀: mdni!, oral (f rec), slightly breast play, p in v, unprotected sex, car sex, dubcon, semi-public sex, maki has a big dick.

𝓪𝓷: this is my first fic, please forgive me if i do something wrong. this is maybe too long, i hope it can worth your time.

The afternoon sun shone through the gaps in your curtains, casting golden streaks of light across your bed. This weekend was supposed to be a sacred time for you. You were already imagining how wonderful it would be to curl up under a thick blanket, wear a comfortable, loose-fitting t-shirt, and read a book or watch your favorite series without anyone disturbing you.

However, fate had other plans when your bedroom door was suddenly slammed shut impatiently. "hey! Wake up! Let's get ready!" The shrill voice of your best friend, Clara, shattered the silence.

Without permission, she pulled the blanket off your body, making you groan in annoyance as the cold air suddenly hit your skin. You opened your eyes lazily, staring at her with a sleepy yet annoyed look. "Clara, it's Saturday. Please let me live in peace under my blanket."

"There's no time to be lazy! Today is a big inter-university game at the city's stadium. Our teams are playing, and most importantly... Maki is playing today!" Clara's face flushed with excitement.

That name—Maki—was uttered as if he were a god who had just descended from the heavens. You took a deep breath, burying your face in the pillow. Who didn't know Maki? He was the star of your university. He was a great soccer player, towering, athletic, muscular, and had the kind of handsome face that made students from all majors suddenly fall in love with watching the sport.

You could say that Maki was a crush on almost every girl on campus, including your best friend. "So what does that have to do with me? I don't like soccer," you muttered softly, your voice muffled by the pillow.

"Anyway, you have to come! I don't want to sit alone in the stands amidst all the crowd. I'll get you some clothes. Put these on, hurry!" Clara said after selecting clothes from your closet and throwing a short black skirt and a casual shirt onto your bed.

Inevitably, due to your overwhelming sense of camaraderie and Clara's relentless insistence, you finally got out of bed with a resigned sigh. You never expected that a small decision to accompany your best friend this afternoon would transform your weekend into something so fiery and unforgettable.

The stadium was absolutely packed that afternoon. The sound of cheers, trumpets, and celebratory shouts of support echoed from every corner of the stands, creating an incredibly noisy atmosphere.

You sat back in your seat, trapped among hundreds of students who jumped and screamed excitedly every time the ball approached the opponent's goal.

Beside you, Clara repeatedly jumped for joy, shouting the name of the player with number 14 on his jersey with great enthusiasm.

For them, this was an incredibly exciting spectacle. But for you, it was nothing special. You simply sat there, occasionally sipping the mineral water you had brought to ward off boredom.

Even so, you still appreciated your friend's fiery enthusiasm. However, your gaze slowly drifted to the center of the green field, searching for the figure who was the center of the world's attention that afternoon.

Maki. The young man was running nimbly, dribbling the ball past two opposing defenders with incredibly smooth movements.

You had to admit, his charm on the field was no joke. His black hair was slightly damp with sweat, some strands sticking to his forehead. His tall, athletic body seemed to dominate the other players.

Sweat poured down his number 14 jersey, soaking the thin fabric and clinging tightly to his skin. The wet fabric outlined the contours of his broad chest, six-pack abs, and broad back.

Without realizing it, your eyes were glued to his every movement. A strange shiver suddenly crept up your lower abdomen. As you watched Maki wipe the sweat off his neck by lifting the hem of his jersey—revealing a glimpse of his firm, muscular abs—you felt a strange, tingling sensation.

Without realizing it, your thighs pressed together tightly. The sudden warmth that spread through your sensitive area made you shiver. Your body reacted in a way you'd never felt before, simply from looking at a man from a distance.

The whistle blew, signaling halftime and a short break. The players walked to the sidelines for drinks. It was then, somehow, amidst the thousands of spectators in the stands, that Maki suddenly turned around and looked up, staring straight at your seat.

Your eyes met in midair. Your heart skipped a beat. Maki's gaze was sharp, deep, and filled with an unusual intensity. He didn't blink, staring at you as if your clothes meant nothing—a gaze so bold, as if he were stripping you naked in public.

As he took a sip of water from his bottle, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, his eyes remained locked on yours with a gaze filled with obvious passion. It was a very intense eye-fucking gaze.

Ah, this isn't good... really isn't good, you thought frantically. Your heart was pounding like a war drum. Your face felt incredibly hot, as if you were suddenly struck with a fever.

You tried to look away, but the magnetism of those eagle eyes was too strong. You remained frozen there. Your hands moved down, gripping the hem of your short skirt tightly until your fingers turned white.

Your thighs closed even tighter, trying to suppress the stirrings within. However, every time your eyes met again, the wet spot in your sensitive area seemed to widen and throb, releasing natural fluids that made your panties start to feel damp.

You felt incredibly frustrated with yourself. How could you be this sensitive? That man hadn't even touched you, you were only a few dozen meters apart in this stadium, but just by looking at him with his lustful, demanding gaze, you were already this aroused.

You gripped your short skirt even tighter, trying to hide the trembling in your body from Clara, who was still cheering.

The final whistle finally blew, signaling the end of the match. The final score was a landslide victory for your university team.

The entire stands erupted in deafening cheers. People around you began rushing down to the sidelines to congratulate the team, take photos with them, or simply try to get close to the players, especially Maki.

Clara immediately grabbed your hand, inviting you to come down with her. "Come on! We have to take a photo with Maki! When else can she get this close!" Clara exclaimed excitedly.

You shook your head weakly, your face still flushed from the excitement in your body. "You go ahead, Clara. I'll wait here or I'll catch up later. My stomach's a little upset," you lied, even though it wasn't your stomach that was actually churning, but rather a much lower area.

Clara, overly excited, finally let go of your hand and ran to catch up with the crowd. You sat back down in your seat, which was starting to empty. From the top of the stands, you looked down.

There, Maki was being surrounded by a large crowd of female fans. But, as if ignoring all the people admiring her and thrusting their phones at him, Maki's head tilted back. he was looking for you. And when he found you sitting alone, he returned that deep gaze that seemed to isolate the two of you from the outside world.

A gaze that implied absolute ownership. Facing such an intense gaze made your body tremble violently. The wetness in your crotch grew even more intense, making you feel both uncomfortable and hot.

You simply couldn't stand being there any longer. With trembling fingers, you picked up your phone and sent Clara a text message: "Clara, I'm going home early. I feel like I'm getting a fever, I'm feeling a bit under the weather. I'm so sorry!"

Without waiting for a reply, you immediately stood up, straightened your short skirt, which felt a little clinging to your inner thighs, and then quickly walked out of the stands.

You hurried towards the stadium exit, intending to quickly order an online taxi so you could get to your room and cool off, already soaked.

You walked through the stadium corridors towards the outside area. The atmosphere outside was rather quiet because most people were still inside the field. As you hurried along, looking down at your phone screen for a taxi app, suddenly a large, strong hand gripped your wrist with great force.

"Ah!" You screamed in surprise. Your body was pulled back with a powerful jolt. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest in shock. However, your surprise turned to utter panic when you looked up and saw the figure of the man pulling you.

He was tall, burly, still wearing his wet number 14 jersey, with the strong scent of masculine sweat wafting off him, stimulating your sense of smell. It was Maki. "Where are you trying to running to, hmm?" Maki's voice was deep, low, and filled with intimidating certainty.

"Ma-Maki? Let go... what are you doing?!" you whispered frantically, trying to pull your hand away, but his grip on your wrist was like an iron handcuff that was impossible to break.

Maki didn't answer with words. Instead, he widened his stride, pulling you forcefully but with control down the emergency stairs to the stadium's underground parking lot.

The underground parking lot was very quiet and dim that afternoon, as most of the students had parked their cars outside or hadn't returned from the stadium yet. The sound of your footsteps echoed off the cold concrete walls.

Maki led you into the quietest and darkest corner, where his black luxury car was parked. With one swift movement, he pressed the remote control button on his car, opened the door, and pushed you into the spacious back passenger seat.

Before you could protest or crawl out, Maki's large body had already entered, closing the car door with a loud bang until you heard the automatic locking click.

Inside the soundproof, dimly lit car, the atmosphere suddenly felt suffocating. Before you could utter a single word to protest his excessive actions, Maki lunged forward. His hand gripped your jaw firmly, tilted your face up, and immediately crashed his lips into yours in a very aggressive kiss.

"Mmph?!" Your eyes widened. The touch of his hot, wet lips instantly shattered all your defenses. Maki kissed you mercilessly, devouring your lips greedily as if he were a starving man who had finally found his meal.

His warm tongue forced its way into your mouth, engaging you in a wild exchange of saliva. You could barely breathe from the aggressive way Maki dominated your mouth. The scent of his masculine body mixed with sweat from the match was so intoxicating, filling your senses until your head felt dizzy with arousal.

Maki's large, free hand moved down to your smooth thigh, exposed by your short skirt. Roughly but passionately, he lifted your short skirt up, rolling it quickly to your stomach. The sensitive skin of your thighs suddenly came into direct contact with the cold air inside the car, making you shiver.

But the chill quickly vanished when Maki's large, warm palms cupped your thighs, then quickly slipped under your panties, which, as he suspected, were already very wet. Maki briefly broke your connection, leaving a thin thread of saliva between your swollen lips. His breath hitched against your face. He pulled your panties down with one tug, pushing them off your legs, and let his fingers caress the wet folds of your sensitive area.

"Ah... M-Maki... don't..." you moaned weakly, but your body writhed closer to his hand. Maki chuckled lowly, his deep, deep laugh vibrating against his broad chest. "Don't what, honey? Look at this... you're already this wet just because I stared at you on the field, hmm? You naughty girl. You say no, but it's already so wet down here that it's soaking my finger," he whispered, a profanity that instantly made your face flush and made your arousal explode.

Without giving you time to process his words, Maki pushed one of his long fingers into your already dripping wet hole.

"Ahhh!" You screamed loudly, your head thrown back as the unfamiliar sensation of fullness penetrated you. Maki began to move his finger in and out slowly but surely, stirring your intimate walls that were clamping down on him. The wet smacking sound of his finger rubbing against your natural fluids began to echo in the silent car cabin.

You whimpered loudly, gripping the wet shoulder of Maki's jersey for support, as the incredible sensation he gave you seemed to melt every joint in your body.

Not content with that, Maki's other hand slipped under your shirt. His large, rough palm crept up, slipped under your bra, and immediately squeezed one of your firm breasts mischievously.

He played with your already hardened nipple between his thumb and index finger, making you inadvertently moan loudly, "A-Ahhh! Maki... n-no, please... m-mph..." Hearing your loud, seductive moans, Maki seemed even more greedy. Your moans and groans were like the most beautiful music to his ears, making his cock hard and aching.

"You like it, don't you? I know you do, don't lie to yourself, honey. Moan loudly for me. Let me hear how much your body yearns for my touch," he whispered sensually.

Maki slid down from his position, kneeling on the floor of the car between your thighs, which he forced wide open. He lowered his handsome head, approaching your sensitive area, which was already very wet and smelled intoxicatingly sweet.

The faint sound of his hot breath hit the sensitive skin around your core, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You immediately bucked your hips and back upwards when you felt something warm, wet, and soft writhing right above your clit. Maki began to "eat you out" very aggressively.

His dexterous tongue circled, pressed, and sucked your clit in a deadly rhythm. Simultaneously with his tongue assaulting you, Maki added another finger inside you—making it two—and began moving them at breakneck speed, wreaking havoc on your core with a merciless pumping motion.

"Ahhh! Oh my God! M-Maki! T-That's enough... I'm going crazy... ahhh!" Your moans grew louder, your body trembling violently on the leather car seat. You felt a wave of immense, thick pleasure begin to roll through your lower abdomen, ready to explode at any moment.

The sensation was so intense, so excruciating, you felt like you couldn't hold it back. Your hands moved down, trying to push Maki's broad shoulders away from your crotch, trying to escape the excruciating pleasure.

But Maki's large, athletic body didn't move an inch. He was like a solid rock. From his face buried between your thighs, he let out a deep laugh that sent warm vibrations through your skin, sending additional stimulation that made you even more unable to hold back the wave of orgasm that was already on the verge of reaching you.

You felt so frustrated, tears of pleasure began to fall from the corners of your eyes, wetting your reddened cheeks. "Maki, please... s-stop... something's coming... ahhh! Please move away!" you pleaded, sobbing weakly.

Maki didn't listen to your pleas at all. Instead, he looked up briefly, his eyes dark with lust, staring at you intensely. "Don't hold back, baby. Release it all on my face. Come for me," he commanded.

The movements of his tongue and fingers inside you increased in speed, moving wildly and mercilessly, messing up your most sensitive spots both inside and out. You were completely overwhelmed, unable to hold back the flood of arousal any longer.

Your body suddenly stiffened, your toes curled, and with one long, high-pitched moan, you finally reached your first orgasm. Your core clamped tightly around Maki's fingers and twitched rhythmically, as your pleasured juices gushed out in torrents.

Maki slowly moved his face away from your pussy, leaving a glistening sheen of your fluids around his sexy lips and chin. However, he didn't stop his finger movements inside. He continued to move his fingers slowly, messing up the remains of your twitching core.

His eyes were filled with excitement and satisfaction at the way your fluids gushed out because of his actions. Without wasting any more time, in a highly erotic gesture, Maki lifted his hand, soaked with your fluids, and licked the remaining sweet liquid from his own fingers while continuing to gaze into your languid eyes.

Satisfied with his fingering, Maki adjusts his sitting position. He kneels upright in front of you, his hands moving quickly to lower his sweatpants and underwear to his knees.

It's then, for the first time, that you see the young Man's cock. Maki's cock spring out proudly—looking so erect, veiny, large, twitching and terrifyingly long. Its reddish tip is completely filled with glistening pre-cum.

Seeing its unbelievable size, your courage immediately shrinks. Maki grabs your hips with both his large hands, pulling your limp, post-orgasm body into a supple position, sitting astride his strong thighs, facing his handsome face. He positions the tip of his hot manhood directly in front of your still-twitching, sensitive hole.

"Get on... ride me, baby," Maki whispered, his voice hoarse and full of restrained lust. You looked down at the large object pressed against your core, then looked up at Maki's face with a terrified look.

You shook your head slowly, your lips trembling. "N-No, Maki... it's too big... I'm not sure it'll fit inside me... w-we can just stop here, okay?" you pleaded. However, Maki wasn't used to being rejected, especially when he was this close to heaven.

"It's too late to back out, you naughty bitch. Your body is ready for me," he said coldly but passionately. Ignoring your resistance, his large hands gripped your hips tightly and with one firm, jerking thrust he forced you down—forcing you to accept every inch of his massive cock as it penetrated you.

"AAAHHH--!" You let out a muffled sob, your eyes squeezed shut as the overwhelming feeling of fullness stretched your intimate walls to their limits. It felt so dense, so hot, it felt like it was splitting you in two.

Unable to withstand the overwhelming sensation, you immediately slumped forward, resting your forehead on Maki's broad, sweat-drenched shoulder, hugging his neck tightly as you sobbed softly at the overwhelming feeling of fullness.

To Maki, your weak cries and the way you hid your face in his shoulder were incredibly sexy. It further fueled his masculine ego as a dominant man. "Ahhh... baby... fuck, you're so tight... you're going to milk me dry, hm?" Maki growled, the muscles in his neck and arms tensing as he felt the warmth of your intimate walls tightly embrace his manhood.

His large hands on your hips began to guide you. However, due to the tension and fullness, your body stiffened and you were unable to move your hips on your own. Seeing your passiveness, Maki lost his patience. With one hand, he lifted your body slightly, then the other flew out and landed a hard slap on your exposed, smooth butt cheek.

SLAP!

"Ah!" You moaned in surprise at the spicy, pleasurable sensation on your ass cheek. The slap instinctively made your hips move up and down, starting a rhythmic union.

Maki growled in satisfaction at your moans. The ups and downs of your movements on his big cock made his sanity slowly fade. Hurriedly and roughly, his hands moved up to your chest, unbuttoning your shirt until it was completely undone

He pulled your bra up forcefully, revealing your beautiful, smooth, and firm breasts in the dim parking lot light. They bounced provocatively up and down, following every movement of your hips as they rode him.

Maki couldn't hold back any longer. He cupped your breasts in his large hands, squeezing and massaging them vigorously until the soft flesh turned red between his fingers. You arching your chest forward, seeking comfort from his squeeze, especially when Maki lowered his head and began sucking greedily on one of your hardened nipples, while his other hand continued to knead the other.

You simply couldn't handle the double stimulation—the intense thrust down there plus the strong, messy suction on your nipple. Your mind goes blank, and you feel another wave of orgasm building up again, coming at a rapid pace due to the increasingly intense pumping motion.

"M-Maki... ahhh! I... I'm going to cum again... m-maki, I-I—" you stutter, breathing heavily. Maki releases his suction from your chest, staring down at your sweat-drenched face with a wild, handsome grin.

"Want to cum? Let it out, baby. Don't hold it in," he says hoarsely. Instead of letting you slow down, Maki's hands grip your hips tightly, locking you in place, and he begins to take control, pumping his cock upward with deep, hard thrusts from below.

JLEB! JLEB! JLEB!

Each of his deep thrusts hit your deepest point, the tip of his cock kiss your cervix, making you moan uncontrollably with a high-pitched sound.

To keep your voice from echoing too loudly outside the car, you leaned your head back and bit Maki's muscular shoulder hard, channeling the already overwhelming pleasure.

And finally, you exploded again. A second, far more intense orgasm sent your entire body trembling violently. Your pleasure juices gushed out in copious amounts, drenching Maki's jersey bottom, his hard abs, his firm thighs, and even dripping onto the leather seat of the car where you were pressed together.

However, even though you were already limp after orgasm, Maki didn't stop his assault at all. This made you bite his shoulder even harder as your intimate walls, already twitching sensitively after your release, were forced to continue rubbing against his veiny cock.

Maki's pumping rhythm grew faster, wilder, and more powerful. Heavy moans and growls began to escape his throat uncontrollably.

His thrusts were so hard and pounding that they might have even sent your small body bouncing slightly upward if his large, iron-like hands hadn't held your hips firmly in place. "Ahhh... fuck, you feel so good, baby... I'm at the edge too, baby... y-you're so tight, damn it!" Maki growled, the veins on his forehead bulging from the intense pleasure.

Maki delivered a few final, incredibly deep and fast thrusts, mercilessly pounding your cervix to its limit, before finally clenching his massive body. "I'm cumming... a-ahhh!" he groaned in a very sexy baritone.

With that long groan, Maki shot a copious amount of white, thick, and hot semen right into your intimate hole. You could clearly feel the hot liquid filling you, pulsing warmly inside, giving you a feeling of exhaustion yet pleasure.

In the silence of the car cabin that had returned, the only sound was the sound of your two gasping breaths, responding to each other, as you tried to regulate your dwindling oxygen supply.

You, utterly weak, exhausted, and drained of all your energy, could only lean your bare upper body completely against Maki's broad chest, letting his pounding heartbeat be the background sound of your rest.

After a few minutes had passed, Maki slowly grabbed your hips and pulled his cock out of you. "Nghhh..." You moaned softly as the release felt incredibly sensitive against your walls, which now felt slightly sore in your abused pussy from his overly forceful and rough thrusts earlier

As you pulled away, the remains of thick, white semen mixed with your own fluids spilled out of your pussy opening, dripping down your inner thighs. Maki gently laid your limp body on the spacious back seat of the car.

He then reached for a box of tissues nearby, took a few, and with a care that contrasted with his earlier brutality, he began to clean you. He wiped the remaining fluids from your intimate area clean.

After ensuring you were clean, Maki straightened your messy clothes—replece your bra back to it's place, buttoning your shirt, and tugging your short skirt back into place, even though he was no longer help you wearing your underwear.

He then grabbed his oversized sports jacket from the front seat and covered you with it from chest to your thighs, allowing you to rest comfortably in the warm back seat.

Maki then straightened his pants and tucked his semi-hard cock back into them. He opened the car door briefly, shifted out, and re-entered through the front door to sit in the driver's seat.

He started the car, allowing the air conditioning to blow cool, refreshing air into the cabin. Before driving out of the silent underground parking lot, Maki turned his head back, gazing at your curled-up figure beneath his oversized jacket with a gaze that had softened, filled with a sense of protectiveness and absolute ownership.

"Get some rest. I'll take you back to your apartment. From today on... you're mine, okay? Don't ever try to run away from me again," he said softly from the driver's seat, a faint smile gracing his lips.

Too exhausted to argue or process anything, you could only nod your head very slowly in response, before your eyelids felt incredibly heavy and you fell into a deep sleep, under the masculine scent of Maki's jacket.

that's it... I'm sorry if my english is not really good. you can drop some suggestions or requests, I'll try to fulfill it. ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)