synopsis | your boyfriend has quite the appetite after his practice ends early.
details | boyfriend!euijoo x female!reader, idol au, detailed and frequent descriptions of food/cooking, 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (f rec.), established relationship, reader is shy, body worship, slight body description (curves, plush, etc.), tit kisser!wiju, biting and marking, burnt the garlic, soft dom!juju, lowercase intended, cursing
wc | 3k
from the author | im gonna eat him next... 1/3 wishes granted for @andrabunica
the difference in your schedules made the idea a quality time together a thing of dreams. you spent time together, sure, for the three hours your circadian rhythms allowed you to lay, enveloped in his arms under too-hot blankets just before you had to rise and start your day. in a rare instance, your day off would align divinely with his company’s sick idea of a schedule, and the two of you would spend a lazy morning together. ideally, it was spent swirling too much creamer in your coffee and putting on a movie you’d been wanting to watch for a while, halfway paying attention to the unfortunately terrible plot and mostly stealing kisses, as if you had a certain, unreachable quota to hit every day.
but that time wasnt quality– it was scraping crumbs off the table, craving another scoop of overpriced ice cream. there was a flashing sign above your heads, bright red numbers counting down the minutes until he had to leave for practice, predicting the weeks he would be gone for tour, promising endings before they’d even begun.
so, when euijoo texted you this evening, when your phone screen lit up with his charming contact photo, and said that practice was ending early, you felt no shame jumping around with excitement; an evening with euijoo was even rarer than a morning. earlier in your relationship, you had stayed up later just to kiss him goodnight. that was not sustainable for you, though, as it resulted in a maximum of four hours of sleep per night and turned you into a zombie of sorts. no brain, too much heart.
you planned it all out: you’d cook his favorite while he showered, you’d eat together at the dinner table that rarely received any attention, and, then, the two of you would load up that game he had bought a few weeks ago without a spare moment to play. you washed all the produce, chopped the veggies, and were executing a flawless saute, deglazing the pan with white wine and everything like a real chef, when the front door creaked open and clicked shut. euijoo’s gentle footsteps padded all the way to the kitchen, and you felt your heart skip at the sight of him in the doorway. his broad shoulders were cloaked in a loose fitting jacket with matching sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his hair tousled and slightly damp over his forehead. he was glowing, and obviously tired, but he still smiled so wide that it went straight to his eyes, cheeks round and flushed.
“what’s the occasion?” he asked, peering around deeper into the kitchen as if something were going to jump out at him, “are we having company?”
“no occasion, and no company,” you hummed and stirred the vegetables in the pan, the steam rising in dramatic puffs. your voice was perhaps too sweet as you tilted your head over your shoulder and said, “just you.”
“all this for me?” euijoo palmed his chest, crossing the kitchen to join you, “smells amazing, baby. you’re too good to me.” two arms snaked around your waist, sure and deliberate by the squeeze under your ribs. the hair on the back of your neck stood up as he tucked his face into the bend of your neck, the warmth of his cheek against your shoulder soothing any chills that threatened to slide up your spine at the contact. he inhaled, and, with another squeeze to your waist, sighed against your skin, “i’m starving.”
“so impatient,” you giggled, “it’ll be done soon.”
but euijoo didn’t budge. he hummed, the sound traveling through his chest and directly into yours where your heart stumbled in its place. “soon?” he repeated, this time letting his breath ghost directly over the side of your neck, right over your quivering pulsepoint. and then you felt it– a warm, slow kiss dipping beneath your ear. you gasped at the feeling, at the grazing of his teeth on your sensitive flesh and at the immediate soothing of his tongue, soft and wet. he released you from his hold only to shift his hands to your hips. euijoo mumbled against you, and you knew exactly what he meant when he said, “i’m hungry now.”
just like that, your plans were shattered, along with any part of you that might have pushed back against his insatiable urges. you would have been a fool to argue that garlic was more important than quality time with your boyfriend, especially as he reached over your shoulder and flipped the little knob on the stove. the once glowing rim of heat beneath the pan faded to nothing, the vegetables in the skillet still sizzling from residual heat. euijoo tilted your head to look at him over your shoulder, connecting your mouths in a sensual, hungry kiss that all but swallowed you whole. he moaned into you as you wiggled your hips, dragging the curve of your ass along the front of his sweats. euijoo slid a hand down the front of your torso, firmly planting his palm against your stomach, pushing you harder against him.
“been thinking about you all day, baby,” he mumbled, the thought almost cut short by how intensely he needed his lips on yours, “thinking about your smile.”
“that’s all?” you taunted, grinding against him with one devastating swivel of your hips that had euijoo groaning into your mouth.
“mhm,” his lips traveled down your jaw to your neck, back to that sweet spot where he started all of this. his hand on your stomach slipped past the waistband of your shorts, dipping into your panties, “and about this pussy, how sweet you taste,” he sighed as he breached your folds with impatient fingers, humming soothingly against your sensitive neck as he collected your slick. he said, weakly, “how long its been since i’ve touched you properly.” you’d thought about that, as well; you’d reeled over the struggle to connect in a rushed rut, a goodbye fuck, or as he spilled between your thighs as you slept, just needing to feel you. but you needed to feel him, too.
so, of course, your knees felt weak beneath you, hands bracing the warm cooktop to keep you from melting into a puddle at his feet. euijoo had this effect on you, and it had been that way from the start; his sweet tone, low and timid but absolutely filthy when he wanted something from you. his honey voice dripped with venom, sinking his teeth deep in your neck, plunging his tongue even deeper. his voice was smooth, laced with a hint of amusement, as he asked, “do you want me to touch you, beautiful?” the pads of his fingers hovered over your clit, and you fought your body not to grind down onto them, not yet.
you pulled your lip between your teeth, core fluttering with anticipation, and nodded, “yes, please, euijoo.” but, instead of giving you what he offered, he withdrew his hand from your shorts and left you completely without, just for a second, as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hoisted you in the air. the lift surprised you, the sudden pressure on your lower stomach sending you into a fit of laughter that all but dissolved the tension you’d felt seconds prior. his fingers that were once teasing your eager core were now encircling your hips and carrying you to your bed, his lips peppering kisses over your shoulder the whole way. you loved him for his playful side, and he was so often serious, hardworking. the moments where that part of him chipped away felt like you’d struck pure, shimmering gold, no matter how rare they were.
the floor might as well have been burning hot with how quickly you jumped back into his arms the moment he released your hips. you spun around, leaping up to snake your arms around his neck, capturing his lips. euijoo laughed, smiling into your kiss and holding you up against him, so close that you thought your bodies might merge into one. and you would not have minded one bit. he didn’t care that your hands still kind of smelled like raw onions or that you had oil droplets on the front of your shirt, evidence of the plans you barely tried to uphold. all euijoo cared about was you, having you all to himself for longer than ten minutes at a time.
he lowered you onto the mattress, one hand bracing your head as he made a conscious effort to keep his lips moving against yours, soft and hungry all at the same time. his tongue swept over yours, noses bumping. he was gentle with you despite the desperate heat of his mouth making its way down your body, leaving sparks in its wake and striking every inch of your skin. euijoo hovered over you, pushing your shirt up your torso to attach his lips to the space between your breasts. “so pretty everywhere,” he mumbled, scooping you from the constraints of your bra and suckling one of your nipples into his mouth. the hum that followed went straight to your bones, a soft moan escaping your mouth as your hand stroked the back of his head. “so pretty for me.”
his attention was fully undivided, hands tracing paths along your sides, caressing every dip and slope with the precision of an edge. euijoo worked his mouth down your sternum and the expanse of your stomach until he hovered, like a hummingbird assessing one of those sticky plastic feeders, over your thighs. his heart was beating just as quickly, too; you could feel it in his hands as they gripped your hips, anticipating your reservations and pressing his pulse straight into your skin. a rapid thrum contrasted with the precise, intentional bites along the inside of your legs, tongue smoothing over the ridges created by his teeth. every contact was a blaze along the path to your core; your stomach flipped at the sight of him, eyes glazed over, suckling the plush skin of your thigh between his lips. he hooked his nimble fingers around your panties, soaked through, and you felt your thighs squeeze together, hesitantly, suddenly small under his burning gaze and elegant, long fingers.
“relax for me, baby,” euijoo slid his hands back up the length of your body, lightly tugging your shirt back down over your exposed chest, a considerate gesture that made your heart swell to make more room for him. you couldn’t hold back your smile– it hurt to try. it hurt to resist his sweet, attentive personality, how he seemed to know what was bothering you before you did. he pressed a kiss to the space just above the thin fabric that separated you, “let me take care of you, yeah?”
when you nodded, he had already tugged your underwear off and tossed them somewhere unknown. if you had thought ahead, you would have skipped wearing them altogether. you would have just cooked him dinner in nothing but an apron like the plot of a cliche porno. but you assumed his practice would leave him exhausted, that he would have appreciated not having to do anything for the evening but relax while you treated him. instead, he was treating you, fingers opening your folds, undoubtedly glistening beyond any reasonable amount just from his cruel teasing in the kitchen. the cool sensation of his breath urged your hips forward as you rolled them, just slightly, eager for anything he wanted to give you. still, he hovered; the hummingbird and his nectar, and it was so easy to overindulge on something as sweet as you.
the first swipe of his tongue through your heat stopped your breath in your throat, and you could only hold it there as euijoo’s lips enveloped your soaked folds, insatiably slurping and prodding your fluttering entrance. your body was on fire with him, his hands gripping your hips and his hair tickling your thighs; everything was searing red, like he’d turned the kitchen burner up instead of off. the ceiling was spinning, or maybe it was just your head as you covered your face with your hands, biting your arm to hold back the mewls that pushed against your lips, rolling like boiling water. it felt so good, too good and too fast. it was true that time healed all wounds, but time could also create them, wounds that could only be treated with euijoo’s tongue winding devastating, tight circles around your clit. it was a fast, cauterizing healing, burning in your throat. your teeth dug into the flesh of your mouth as you pressed it firmly against your arm.
he angled his head, letting his tongue flit over your sensitive bud as he pulled your hands away from your face and placed them in his hair instead, urging you to use him. he sighed against you as you threaded your fingers over his scalp. “that feel good?” he wrapped his lips over your clit, rolling the bundle of nerves around in all directions, “let me hear you, darling. wanna hear you say it- wanna hear you.”
“f-feels,” you shuddered as he dragged his flattened tongue up the entirety of your aching pussy, a choked sound escaping you, “fuck- feels amazing. missed this, ju.”
“missed you,” he hummed against you, voice rough like crystallized honey as he asked, “can you look at me while i fuck you with my tongue?”
you could certainly try. you couldn’t see much of anything, though, through the tears that picked your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure blazing up your center, through the dizzying, spinning air clouding your brain. and it only got worse as you tipped your head down and met his focused stare, like he was unraveling your thoughts outside of your head. euijoo kept your thighs open for him, but he didn’t hold you down, leaving you to squeeze his head as the pleasure grew too quickly. and it did, over and over, your short breaths and groans clueing him in to slow his tongue, to bring you right to the edge and then bring you back down. the stretch of his muscle inside of you was good but it was nothing compared to the expert roll of the tip of it on your clit, like magic, like he wished on a star and you fell into his lap. you squeezed your eyes shut involuntarily, directly disobeying his request to watch him. it was too much to see his hair glued to his forehead, his cheeks flushed pink and damp with sweat and you.
“i wish you could see how beautiful you look from here,” euijoo said, pulling one of your hands from his hair and squeezing it. you could have said the same thing about him. but you couldn’t say anything, really, with how close your orgasm was. like a roaring, open flame, it flickered in towering licks, painting your vision with streaks of white– a reflection from the sun at its peak and burning just as hot. anything that wasnt his name or some obscenity chanted in a pathetic, weak cry was completely off the table. “i want you to come on my mouth. can you do that for me, my love?”
it was the easiest thing to do, next to loving him. next to ruining your sleep schedule just to spend time with him. next to nearly chopping your finger off preparing ingredients for his favorite meal, only to become his favorite meal instead. it was the third easiest thing to do and becoming increasingly easier as euijoo sucked at every inch of you, humming and burying his face deeper into your cunt with every roll of your hips, chasing that flame, drowning in its shadow until your vision was eclipsed by pleasure. you’d always heard not to stare into an eclipse, and you didn’t have to worry about that as your eyes screwed helplessly shut, spine contorting as your body ached to go limp. euijoo kept his mouth attached to you, hands groping at your thighs as they spasmed around his head, the physical evidence of your body’s aftershocks, muscles twitching endearingly beneath his palms.
your chest heaved, skin sticky as euijoo finally released you from his mouth. the lower half of his face was shimmering like fresh sap, chin dripping with your essence, and the sight sparked another selfish flame in your core despite your pussy still throbbing from your orgasm. you wanted to kiss him, wanted to lick his chin like melting candy, but you were unusually weak. and the room smelled faintly of soured, burnt garlic– the efforts of your expert-level saute cooked to a crisp on the bottom of the good skillet. the heat was too much for your dinner, too. what wasn’t burnt was definitely cold and upsetting, unsalvagable. you wanted euijoo to get on with it, to take his pants off and fuck you dumb so that you could run back out to the store; you needed more vegetables and to carry out at least part of the perfect plans you’d made. but he hadn’t moved from his spot between your legs, still pressing lazy kisses against your thigh and drawing circles on your lower stomach. he admitted once he liked watching the chill bumps rise wherever he touched.
and when he finally stood up, you were more confused than before. because he pulled his phone out and held it up to his ear. a phone call? now?
“what are you doing?” you asked, hushed. he held up one impatient finger before wiping his chin with the back of his hand. you wrapped your hand around his finger, shaking it insistently, “euijoo, who the hell are you calling?”
“you haven’t eaten yet,” euijoo whispered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, angling the phone away from his face as it continued to ring on the other end. he pointed his finger, still encased in your weak but demanding fist, at the device. “ordering.”
and, then, it all became very clear to you– you weren’t going to be able to stand long enough to cook anything tonight.
✩ Intimacy Alphabet — Nakakita Yuma ✩
Yuma x Fem!Reader (18+).
✩ A/N: I also got an ask a while ago about brat tamer Yuma...here you go, anon.
A = Aftercare ("after" the deed):
✩ It waits til the morning. The two of you are so fucked out from going at it hard for hours, and you both end up passing out as soon as he pulls out. He collapses next to you, pulls your head into his chest, and clocks out for a good nine hours. When you both wake up, though, expect gentle kisses and another round as an apology.
B = Body part (their favorite on themselves and you):
✩ Honestly, his hips. He knows he looks good dancing, and he's acutely aware of how good he can make you feel just by grinding into you. He can go any pace, drilling into you at a rate that makes you lose the feeling in your fingers — but he can also go filthily slow, just letting you feel and soak him until you rake your nails down his back and demand he go faster.
✩ So...yeah. Hands. You know how some people have that hand kink, plus the veins and stuff? Yuma's got that, but with your nails. He just finds them...fascinating. Triple points if you're into getting your nails done, because he'll ApplePay you $200 for a good set. He likes when they card through his hair when he rests his head on your lap, or when you scratch his back after dance practice; he also likes it when your nails dig into his biceps or back when you're under him, leaving scratch marks that have him beaming with pride. They're also good for teasing — drag them up and down his abs, and he'll be shuddering and moaning in no time.
C = Cum (...self-explanatory):
✩ Yuma has this weird obsession with cumming on your face — not so much in a degrading way, but just watching it splatter on your skin and drip to your neck and down your throat. It's like he actually gets to see what happens when he cums down your throat, except you look exceptionally pretty like this.
D = Dirty secret (what might they be keeping from you?):
✩ I think the better question is: What isn't Yuma keeping from you? He's an open book, but the spine is cracking from how far he pulls the covers apart. He doesn't have much of a filter, and he's not exactly shy when it comes to you, so if he wants to tell you that he just got off to a picture you posted on your finsta, he's going to tell you. He'll text you in the middle of a meeting about how he smelled your perfume in the air and instantly got hard. Sometimes you wish he kept secrets, because if he keeps running his mouth, then you'll never be able to leave him alone.
E = Experience (how experienced are they?):
✩ Eh. I mean, he's got to have some to know what he's doing, but I also think he's lowkey a loser and slightly pathetic, so he didn't get around much before you. I kind of see him like a sad, wet cat (affectionately).
F = Favorite position (speaks for itself):
✩ Yuma absolutely loves to hit it from the back, prone-bone. It makes his ego swell when your face is buried in whatever surface he's got you on, and he can just barely hear your muffled stutters and moans. It's also tighter, and he gets less distracted by your face that way. When he can actually see you, he tends to get caught in the moment and unintentionally slows to admire your expressions, which causes you to tug at his hair and hiss at him to keep going, dammit. Also likes to lick up your spine. Do with that what you will.
✩ Another 69er. It's just the best idea ever invented, in his opinion. I mean, you sucking him off while he gets to eat you out? Oftentimes, he wonders why you both just don't default to that, but then you're actually in the moment, and he wants to make you squirm on top of him...but he loses focus. You just feel too good with his dick in your mouth and with the combination of that and your arousal right in his face, he think he might genuinely pass out.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):
✩ I wouldn't call Yuma serious, but I wouldn't call him humorous, either; more than anything, he's mischievous. He enjoys being a classic asshole and making you swear up at him, only to make you immediately take it back once he really starts hitting your sweet spot. It's only humorous to him because he likes to see you tremble for him, and he thinks it's funny when you yell at him.
H = Hair (how well-groomed are they?):
✩ Not completely clean-shaven, but not much of a grower, either. He likes to be smooth, but not so smooth that he's mistaken for younger than he is. He's a man, dammit!
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):
✩ Despite how much he enjoys fucking rather than making love (yes, there is a difference), that isn't to say that he can't be romantic. His touch softens, his voice lowers, and there's less joking around when all is said and done. When Yuma is needy, he yaps, and when he's close, the dam in his throat breaks completely: "Fuck, baby. I'm so close, so close, gotta cum, please — IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou—"
J = Jack-off (a masturbation headcanon):
✩ If I had two words to describe Yuma getting himself off, it would be whiny and irritated. Even if you can't actually hear him, you know he's cursing under his breath — at himself, because he likes to edge, at you, because you're not there to help him, at the door to whatever room he's locked himself in: "Don't you dare open, asshole." No one's ever caught him, but they've come pretty damn close before.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):
✩ BRAT!!!!! It doesn't matter who it is — both of you can be bratty, and both of you can put the other in their place. Yuma's a brat by default and comes crashing down when you give him that exact push back, but there's an undeniable thrill when you give him an attitude because he knows exactly what you're trying to do. He teases, (lovingly) humiliates, manhandles, dominates, and the aftermath is fucking delicious. On the flip side, when you're fighting for control, and win, he ends up a soft, trembling, stuttering mess. Don't get it twisted, though...he loves it.
✩ Not really a kink, but Yuma's sex playlist goes so hard, you could cum just listening to it on its own. It's filled with deep, luscious beats, basslines that imitate your heart rate and match the pace of his thrusts, and the most dirty — yet gorgeous — lyrics you can imagine. He's probably spent weeks curating it, and there's always a new addition whenever he pulls you into his bed.
L = Location (favorite spots to get off):
✩ Literally can do it anywhere; Yuma has no shame whatsoever. You wanna stay in and fuck on the couch? Awesome. You want to sneak into the gender-neutral bathroom for fifteen minutes together? He's down. Really, Yuma is the one pulling you aside, and who are you to say no when he's him? The most embarrassing place you've ever fucked was probably at his parents' house...when they were in the next room over. Bro was not waiting to leave.
M = Motivation (what gets them going?):
✩ What doesn't get him going? If we're going into the most specific of specifics: You bullying him, whining his name, letting him take care of you, being confident, and, of course, acting bratty. ;)
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
✩ Being genuinely mean or degrading in an offensive way is a bit much for him. I mean, he loves to tease and call you names, but he'd never cross the carefully-drawn line you've set. The thought of actually dragging you down and hurting your feelings makes him feel sick.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
✩ Another man with no preference, but I'll start with receiving. Depending on who's in control for the night, Yuma can go one of two ways. Some nights, he wants to feel like he's on top of the world, so he forces your head further down as he rolls his hips against your mouth. It's worth it, to see the tears and the drool and the way it obviously turns you on, and he loses his mind when you let him cum down your throat. On another hand, he can always be a little subby, too, so when you want to put him in his place, the easiest way is to edge him for hours until he cries.
✩ He can definitely eat, too, more often as a means of showing off for you or feeling in control. I feel like Yuma gets jealous pretty easily when you get touchy with the members...not in a toxic way, but in a, "Who are you to put your hands on my partner?" way. The easiest way of giving himself some kind of reassurance (and communicating his emotions to you) is to give you the most jaw-dropping, thigh-shaking head you can imagine. Yuma devours, his tongue curling into your head while his nose grinds against your clit. It's rough, it's wet, and it lasts for hours, but it's his, and he likes it.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):
✩ Yuma is a healthy mix of both — really, it depends on the vibes. For the more intimate nights, of course he'll go slower, probably matching the tempo of whatever song is playing in the background: slow and sexy. If it's just a fuck, though, or he's upset and needs a release, he goes as hard as you'll let him. Sex is an emotional release for him, and if he's pissed off, the only remedy is seeing you cum.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):
✩ No surprise here: Yuma loves a good quickie and asks for them often. Why would he wait to go home when he can just finger you for five minutes where you already are? The orgasms help him blow off some steam and gives him motivation to work. The members think you're just delivering Yuma some coffee during a break, but no one truly knows that you're hidden in an empty practice room, and he's got his head buried in your shoulder as he ruts onto one of your thighs.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):
✩ As long as you're game, Yuma doesn't mind experimenting. I mean, that's how you found out that he's a switch; if he hadn't let you take control of him one night without fighting back, he wouldn't have known how good submission feels. You're both pretty lax about trying new things as long as nothing gets too aggressive or feels wrong.
✩ As for risks...yeah. Yuma is 100% the type to let his hand creep up your thigh in the middle of a movie night with the boys. Of course, the motion is hidden by the blanket on your lap, but you have to hide your face in his shoulder once he slips two fingers in you with an easy smirk tugging at his lips. He's lucky he's cute.
✩ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):
✩ For all the game he talks, Yuma really can't hold his own after two rounds 💀 He starts off strong, smiles down at you like he's the sexiest man alive (which...fair), cums a few times...and then he's done. If you want more, you're going to have to roll him over and ride the shit out of him, because he's tired from the buildup and action. Maybe if you go at it long enough, you can make him pass out. He might not even say no, honestly.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):
✩ You really think that Yuma wouldn't use every opportunity possible to tease you with your own vibrator? The minute he finds out that you own one, he keeps it in his pocket like it's a good luck charm and holds it against your clit under a table while you're out. When he's particularly pissed off, he likes to start the night off with it and taunt you the entire time. "What, you think this stupid thing is better than me? I dare you to say it — do it."
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):
✩ ...Really? Why are you even asking? It's fucking Yuma we're talking about! No, in all seriousness — he loves to see you flustered and needy, and he'll do anything to elicit a reaction. Edges you and makes you wait forever before he even puts his dick in you. He'll imitate your helpless noises to watch your face flush in embarrassment. When he feels that you're getting close, he slows his pace until you cuss at him and try to manhandle him into getting back on track. The most unfair to ever unfair. Screw you, Nakakita Yuma (...please).
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):
✩ SOMEONE HIT THE MUTE BUTTON ON THIS MAN. Yuma is shameless in his moaning and, if not for you asking him to take it down a notch, would absolutely leave the door open if he could. When he's in control, he generally just groans and then grunts as he gets close to finishing. When you're on top of him, though, or going down on him, we all know he's letting out the prettiest little whines and moans. He also tends to stutter when he starts slipping through to his subby side...cutie.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):
✩ Yuma likes to make you angry. Like, he's an absolute ragebaiter. He just loves it when you yell at him or try to elbow him in the ribs. Really, he thinks it's hilarious, but it also makes him so hard that he can't think straight. Please, tell him you hate him. Tell him that you're going to kill him in his sleep, and then pull him closer. Choke him out — he'll beg, if he has to.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):
✩ Hmm...Not the longest or thickest, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to use it. He's got the attitude and stamina to make up for it.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):
✩ Probably one of the horniest members of the group, honestly. Don't get mad at him — he's just reacting to what he sees, and if he sees you standing there all pretty, of course he's gonna pop a boner. The only thing higher than one of his, "Fuma-saaaaaan"s is his libido.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):
✩ Like I said for A, Yuma is out like a light. Passes out immediately and then stays asleep for an impressive amount of time. He needs his beauty sleep.
some little hc's i have of yuma that are definitely not completely self indulgent!
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
perv!yuma who grabs your hand in public and places it on the crotch of his pants so he can use it to get off.
the train was full- loud. surely nobody notices the way yuma grips your hand and rocks his hips against it. his head hangs low on your shoulder and he's letting out soft moans against your neck,
"yuma-"
"'s okay baby. jus' let it happen."
perv!yuma who is a panty sniffer and pillow humping enthusiast
yuma gasps as the tip of his cock makes contact with the pillow beneath him. he's got the phone set up in front of him, one hand gripping the pillow, and the other has your dirty lacy panties stuffed at his face.
"need you to come home, pretty." his hand clenches the pillowcase as he starts to fuck his cock onto it. his tongue dips out of his mouth to get a taste of you and he chokes a moan out,
"fuck- i need you on my face immediately."
nasty!yuma who puts his thumb in your ass when he's giving you backshots.
"when are you gonna let me- shit- fuck this one, huh?"
nasty!yuma who, during said backshots, will also pull your head back to spit in your mouth.
and not in an efficient way, no, he lets it drip from his tongue onto yours.
"c'mere."
he pulls you up by your throat and lets a string of spit slide off of his tongue and onto yours,
"good fucking girl."
nasty!perv!yuma who will pull out in the middle of fucking you as soon as he sees a white ring around his cock.
"yes- fuck-"
yuma pulls out and gets on his knees,
"'m gonna lick you, pretty."
and when he starts making out with your pussy, he can't help but come untouched during the process.
headpusher!yuma who just can't help himself when he feels the tip of his cock touch the back of your throat.
"fuck- don't fucking move," he grips the back of your head and holds you still as he violates your throat.
"fuckkk yes. take it, pretty. be a good whore and," he pushes your head down so far your nose touches his pelvic bone, "take it all. thats it, relax your throat. god, youre so fucking good for me-"
sweet!loving!yuma who still plants a soft kiss on your lips between each round,
academic rival!yuma who makes it his personal mission to sit directly in your line of vision just so he can smirk at you when he finishes his exam first. he'll stretch obnoxiously, crack his knuckles loud enough for you to hear three rows back and make direct eye contact as he saunters to the front to turn in his paper — twenty minutes before anyone else. you grip your pen so hard you're surprised it doesn't snap.
academic rival!yuma who "accidentally" sees your grade on a returned essay and has the audacity to go "aw, that's cute" when he scores two points higher. two. whole. points. you want to strangle him. he knows you want to strangle him, can probably see it written all over your face. that's exactly why he leans in closer, voice dropping just low enough that only you can hear, "maybe if you actually cited recent sources instead of ones from 2018…"
you spend the rest of the lecture plotting his demise instead of taking notes.
academic rival!yuma who lives for the debate portions of your political theory elective. he'll counter every single one of your points with that infuriatingly calm confidence, tongue pressed against his cheek when you start getting flustered. "take your time," he'll say with faux sweetness when you pause to gather your thoughts and the worst part is how the professor nods approvingly at his "patience." you've never meant anything more sincerely than when you mouth "fuck you" at him.
academic rival!yuma who keeps a running tally in the margins of his notes — your score versus his across every quiz, midterm and assignment. when you finally noticed it one day (he left his notebook open on purpose, the fucking bastard), he just shrugged and said, "gotta keep track of my winning streak somehow."
academic rival!yuma who you kissed first, actually. after a particularly heated argument over statistical models that had you both staying two hours past the library closing, you were jabbing your finger into his chest, calling him an "arrogant, insufferable prick," and he was laughing at your anger. so, you did the only rational thing you could think of — you grabbed him by his collar and kissed him to shut him up. instead of pushing you away, his hand came up to cup the back of your neck and he took control so thoroughly that your knees went weak. when you finally broke apart, both breathing hard, he whispered against your lips, "took you long enough." you slapped him then. he deserved it.
academic rival!yuma who has you pinned against the bookshelf in the library's restricted section at 11 PM next wednesday, one hand over your mouth while the other works between your thighs with devastating precision. you're not entirely sure when this arrangement took off, but you're not one to question it. not when nerdy, harmless yuma gives you orgasms that you could only dream of. "quiet," he breathes against your ear and you can hear the smirk in his voice, “unless you want everyone to know that the second-best student in our program is falling apart for me in the philosophy section." you bite down on his palm in retaliation, but it only makes him press harder, fingers curling just right, and your vision goes white. "that's it," he murmurs, holding you up when your legs threaten to give out. "you sound so much better when you're not trying to one-up me."
academic rival!yuma who discovers that the fastest way to win an argument is to slide his hand up your thigh beneath the study room table, all while continuing to contribute to the discussion like nothing's happening. his voice stays perfectly steady, academic and measured, even as his fingers trace maddening patterns against your skin, climbing higher until you completely lose your train of thought mid-sentence. he tilts his head, eyes gleaming with victory. "i'm sorry, what were you saying about foucault's theory of power?" you want to kill him. you also need him. you hate that both things are equally true.
academic rival!yuma who has you bent over his desk at 2 AM, one hand fisted in your hair while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. and he's talking — god, he won't shut up. "you know what your problem is?" he groans, voice rough as he drives into you. "you think too much. always trying to be in control, always trying to win." he pulls you up against his chest, hand sliding to wrap around your throat. not squeezing but holding, possessive. "look at you now. look how good you take it when you finally let go." you can't even form words to argue back, can only whimper when he angles his hips differently, fat cock hitting that spot that makes you see stars.
academic rival!yuma who gets off on reducing you to incoherence, on watching your sharp mind go completely blank with pleasure. he'll have you on your back, your legs over his shoulders, and he'll slow down just to watch you squirm. "use your words," he demands, even though you both know you're beyond words at this point. "come on, you're so articulate in class. tell me exactly what you need." when you finally manage to choke out a desperate "wan' you t-to touch me, yu... please," he rewards you by pressing his thumb exactly where you need it, pace turning punishing.
"there she is. my smart girl, begging so pretty."
academic rival!yuma who leaves marks deliberately where your clothes will barely hide them. on your throat, your collarbones and the curve where your neck meets your shoulder. he'll suck bruises into your skin while he's inside you, and later, when you're both coming down, he'll kiss them with a satisfaction that's claiming. "wear a turtleneck tomorrow," he suggests, amusement dancing across his features. you flip him off. you both know you won't. you both know he'll be looking for them during your morning lecture, getting hard again just thinking about how he put them there.
academic rival!yuma who fucks you like he has something to prove, every single time — harder, deeper, longer... drawing it out until you're screaming like a pornstar. he'll hook your leg over his shoulder until you arch off the bed with a cry. he'll lean down to messily suck on your tit, moaning shamelessly. "that's right, take it," he growls, tugging at your nipple only to hear your adorable yelp of surprise. "t-take all of me... hhnngh— you can do it, can't you? fuck... my perfect rival." the combination of praise and degradation shouldn't work, but it makes you lose your goddamn mind. when you finally shatter you take him with you, both of you cursing and gasping each other's names.
academic rival!yuma who ends up as your coworker at your dream company six months after you graduate. on your first day, you lock eyes across the room. his answering grin is slow and dangerous. "fancy seeing you here," he singsongs during the coffee break, standing too close for comfort. "guess we're colleagues now." you swallow hard, putting on a nonchalant front, "guess so." he moves into your space, biting down on his lower lip, like he's sharing a dirty little secret, "hr's probably going to have a field day with us."
unfortunately for you, he's right. they absolutely do.
ok but euijoo with a breeding kink- STAY WITH ME NOW!
c/w: afab reader. established relationship with bf euijoo, euijoo has a crazy breeding kink. coercion kinda if you squint. euijoo needs you to have his kids rn basically.
a/n: cheers to my first euijoo fic! i'm sure i'll make more along the way. also sorry for the abrupt ending but i didn't know where else to go with it LMFAO. please lmk what you think!!! <3
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euijoo wants to be a dad sooooo fucking bad.
he saw you hold a baby once and now he knows he needs to make you a mom. it started out really slow- small comments here and there about how cute you looked with a baby in your arms. but now its-
"c'mon honey let me put a baby into you,"
and the words are hot and heavy and he's staring so deeply into your eyes that its getting hard to say no-
"don't worry that pretty little head of yours, let me take- shit- let me take care of it 'kay?"
he's got you folded in half, legs on his shoulders while he grinds his cock into your wet cunt. he hears the squelch with every stroke and all he can think about is breeding you. he wishes he-
"could tie you to the bed and fuck my cum into you day and night. you want that honey? hmm?"
he leans down and licks his tongue into your mouth. its sloppy and nasty and nothing like euijoo but its so fucking hot.
he thinks he's losing his mind. you just look so small and helpless under him and he's so fucking close. his eyes squeeze shut as his balls jump and throb and he knows he's gonna fill you up so good. he slows down and fucks you slow but his tip is kissing your fucking cervix.
he stops tongue fucking your mouth to sit up and take a look at where you two are combined and the moan that leaves his mouth is almost pornographic. you were so wet-
"sloppy cunt is just sucking me in. fuck- you want it don't you?"
one hand holds your ankle by his head and the other presses down where his cock is rubbing against your gummy walls. he presses a light kiss to the anklet with his initial jingling in his ear,
"i'll take such good care of you baby, please- please let me cum inside you"
and you can't say no when his cheeks are flushed and his big tear filled eyes are staring at you in desperation. as soon as you begin to nod, euijoo's eyes darken and he leans down,
"don't fucking move."
he flips you over, places a hand on your head and pushes your face into the mattress as he starts fucking you again,
"you were made for this- fuck. pussy's so fucking tight, she's just asking for it-"
his head spins and he's just so fucking close.
"jus' a little bit more honey- shit."
hearing you whine out for him- beg for him to breed you has him absolutely fucking reeling. you look so pretty and perfect and you're gonna let him fuck a kid into you-
"my pretty girl. so f-fucking good for me," his pace turns erratic as he chases his high, "gonna make you a mommy- ah fuck-"
euijoo moves his hand from the back of your head down to your neck and pulls you up. he places sloppy kisses along your shoulder,
"c'mon baby- take it."
and with that, he finally plants his seed in you. he's seeing white and you're clenching around him so tight-
"that's it honey, doing so g-good for me."
his balls ache and his head feels like its gonna explode and all he can think about is you swollen with his kid and-
c/w: just drooly, desperate, unhinged sunghoon edging himself into oblivion. two mentions of killing/death but it is not graphic in any way.
a/n: i am not sorry. im a loud and proud supporter of the obsessed, unhinged, perv sunghoon agenda.
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would sunghoon kill for you?
he stares at you, who's laying innocently across from him on the bed. your eyes are lit up at whatever you're looking at on your phone, occasional giggles leaving your mouth.
you look so pretty and its got his head spinning. he's almost jealous of the fucking phone. he wants your attention to be on him at all times, and vice versa. he could make you laugh all the same if you-
he pushes the thought down. he's normal. he's very. normal. he would never even think about doing something like that.
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sunghoons muscles buldge as he squeezes the base of his cock for the 3rd time in the past hour. the tip was red, angry, and the length of his cock so thick it hurt to touch it.
he doesn't know what started it, but somehow hes on his knees in front of the mirror, fucking his hand so hard its starting to burn.
you stood in front of this very mirror about 5 hours ago, straightening out the wrinkles on your button up and lint rolling the pencil skirt you had on. you grabbed your pumps and walked out of the door- but not without a little wave goodbye to your boyfriend.
it isnt until now, as sunghoon remembers how your tits spilled out of that stupid fucking shirt, and how you could spot your white lace panties through the slit of your skirt when you bent over and the thought of other people perceiving you-
that the question is less of "would" and moreso "how."
white hot anger spreads through him and his cock jumps and his head starts to spin. he thinks about bending you over and unzipping that skirt to reveal your perfect little ass and his hips buck into nothing. he drags his fingers across the length of his cock but it fucking hurts, so he just continues to hump the hair like the pathetic loser he is.
tears pool at his eyes and hes panting and drooling like a fucking dog. his cock slaps against his abs as he vigorously fucks the air and its not enough and he needs your pussy, your mouth, your ass, anything he'd have access to.
he wants to do his best to be patient when you come home. grab your bag for you, take your coat off and hang it on the rack. fill your plate for dinner. sit and listen to you hum in delight at the taste of your food. let you talk about your day as you take off your makeup. complain about how busy it was as you change into your pajamas. hes going to be normal.
unfortunately, you and sunghoon both know he's not normal. he's weird, and kind of a perv. a little off-putting in public but he's hot as fuck and hung like a horse so you look past it.
he hopes you continue to look past it when he takes you at the front door. he doesn't know if he'll be able to last even that long, the thought of fucking you against the hood of your car crosses his mind as well. he doesn't care. he needs your body. he doesn't give a fuck about anything else, he just needs to be on you- in you, smell you, taste you.
his eyes pop open as his balls jump, threatening to blow his load without his permission. his face flushes further as he realizes that just humping the air has him ready to spill his spunk all over your carpet.
god, he would absolutely kill any fucker that so much as breathed in your direction. he would burn down cities for you if it meant you'd keep him around.
-> cw : blk fem!reader, established relationship(s), brat!reader, dom!bada, mommy kink, choking, cursing, degrading, jumpcut to smut, pet names (baby, love), on a whim so definitely didnt proofread, in small text bc it looks pretty lolzzz
bada likes to spend her money well , if it includes a new seiko silver watch or a designer sweatsuit sent to her as a promotional shoutout . because she’s so pretty with money she has no issue getting something for you , if you’ve been eyeing a new top from a high fashion brand … it will be on your bed in the next three days or a new set of nails you’ve been needing
sad to say but she makes you so spoiled, anything and everything could be yours if you wanted but it’s not always that way … bada has boundaries with money and you let’s just say
“did you hear about them opening a new chanel store in the mall?” , you were sitting pretty in the passenger seat like always while bada sat driving . one hand on the steering wheel while the other is laying on your left thigh . god she’s so attractive
“i heard they put the new chanel knit and mary janes in there, the ones with the pretty gold for the heel” , bada scoffed turning the car into the mall entrance . “those shoes are always shaped weirdly, sure you can pull it off but god” shaking her head, she replied a smirk that never fails to make you flutter .
“i mean maybe they are a little unflattering but it would look so cute with that dress you bought me yesterday” you exlaim to bada, hoping she gets the idea that you don’t plan on paying when she usually does. maybe she did spend a lot on you this week but you know it’s worth it.
“well how much are they?” you can feel her eyes staring into the side of your face. “well…” maybe she shouldn’t have asked that question. “it’s like 1,300 dollars and plus designer tax.”
“god you’re so spoiled.”
“oh my god!!” your squeal could echo through the biggest cave if it wanted to, bada turned her attention to you, quickly walking over. “look baby, aren’t they so pretty? they would look so cute!” you look up at bada’s leaning body, her eyes were sharp staring at the shoes, and her lips turning down as she spoke . “hmm , too expensive though.”
goodness… can’t she just do this for once, she has no issue buying another expensive pair of sweats and a stupid $500 shirt so what’s the difference. you groaned loudly, rolling your eyes and turning around to stand away from her
“don’t get an attitude i’m not for it.” she placed her hands in the pockets of her black cargos, as her face started becoming relaxed you can tell she was getting irritated but how long could she ever stay mad at you?
you scoff at her words, “you’re not for the attitude but you brought it out…funny.” at this point, the shoes were not what you were looking forward to. “keep getting smart with me, still won’t get you those ugly ass shoes.” she laughed after her remark, that piercing smirk she does.
she’s so attractive when you get under her skin. she cocked her head waiting for a smart ass response you usually give.
“i’ll get those shoes, i don’t give a fuck what you got to say.” , she closed her eyes breathing in deeply before giving a smile…she said nothing. usually she would say something but she didn’t. she instead started walking towards your way, she held her head down, the new york logo on her white cap showing proudly. “okay.” she replied sliding between you and a clothes rack.
that’s it? that’s all she has to say? absolutely not.
“bitch ass”, the tiniest whisper under your breath. regarding your girlfriend being entirely heard by her. you felt a body behind your back, pressing deeper into you. “speak up if you got something to say.” her breath gusting on your neck, creating a feeling of butterflies somewhere else. “huh? you ain’t got anything to say?” the white bill of her hat suddenly in your peripheral.
silence
“right.”
“f-fuck! s’too much” you held onto her flexed forearm, her blue ocean tattoo under your fingertips. bada hummed in response, her bottom lip tucked under her perfect white teeth and eyebrows furrowed together
her fingers repeatedly hitting your g spot, getting faster and faster each time you came. god you can’t even speak correctly. your mouth gaping open watching her fingers move at an insane pace.
“you don’t even deserve this shit, arguing all week.” bada’s voice shook the longer she kept fingering your deep into your cunt.
“i’m so s-sorry, i won’t say it again”, your eyes rolling behind your head as your body starts bucking against her hands. “i p-promise i wont say it again.” your eyes pleading with hers. that smile on her face wont budge.
“i know you won’t.” , her face stayed calm , with no expressive smile on her face. you felt another knot emulating in your stomach, arching your back and moving on her fingers more as she started curl them. you hadn’t even realized she started moving them slower , it was all too much
soon, you could feel the knot disappearing . goodness why is she so difficult ?? you whined loudly , sitting up on your elbows to look at her . “who you gonna act right for?” she looked at you from the bottom of her eyelashes .
“you~” you reply as you threw your head back in frustration. “nah, i don’t wanna hear that shit. i’m not gonna repeat what i said.” you knew exactly what she wanted you to say, at this point it’s too late to be playing with bada , “you mommy” , you could see her whole expression change once you said what she was expecting you to
“i know”
-> a/n : imma do streamer!bada as a serious im feigning to write, im sorry if it takes a while for me to conjure up writing school as started back up lolzz
masterlist • next • other works (will be available all later)
"socioeconomical state of the world" this, "entering a recession" that...
well what about sunghoon sending you a picture of his pretty hand adorned in rings and bracelets wrapped around his even prettier cock??? HUH???? EVER CONSIDERED THAT FOR A CHANGE????
i miss bada can everyone send fic recs please i begggg i feel like ive read through the whole bada x reader tag. im suffering and going through withdrawals
hey guys so my pinned explicitly says minors dni. it is extremely uncomfortable to see minors in a space that is reserved for adults. please do not interact again.
let me also add- i will do a better job of checking profiles before interacting with others as well as i was looking through my blog and have accidentally done that before ummmm!
ellievsbear
blakekathryn
tangentwithtanner
izzy806
kianamaiart
