I loved the somno piece !! thank youuuu, I was wondering if you could do a doctor K smut? not sure if this is something you'd be comfortable writing but I'd love seeing what you come up with 💗
aww thank YOU🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻!! i made this with an afab reader because i didn’t really know how else to write this 🥹🥹 so sorry if you didn’t want me to write it this way!! this is actually super long and detailed…. oops….
wc: 1,632
warnings: gagging, nipple play, drooling (now i know i said i hate spit kinks but this is different okay...) slightest size kink, fingering, oral fixation, unprotected piv (wrap it up guys), lmk if there's more
“you’re all set, doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse says as she smiles brightly leaving the room.
your annual checkup rolls around as you wait patiently on the bariatric table. the nurse already checked your vitals, weight, height and whatnot, telling you to dress in the thin paper gown before leaving. goosebumps run over your skin in the sterile environment. you became conscious of the smell of antiseptics that filled the doctors office. before the nurse had left, she informed you of your usual doctor being out on vacation, leaving you stuck with a different one. this scared you a bit, knowing your doctor might’ve been the woman available with an MD in the small facility. you secretly prayed in your head that for some magical reason she appeared last minute to take you in as a patient but that thought was killed after you heard a knock on the door, followed by a man entering the office.
you couldn’t tell whether to curse in your head or to thank the gods for this, but damn was he fine. he towered over you without trying. his hair quite long for a doctor. you could only assume he was handsome with his sharp eyes staring at you with a mask on. he called out your name in question, making sure he had the right patient.
“yes, that’s me,” you responded. as if you weren’t already aware of your surroundings, you shifted more as you sat, the sound of the table paper and the gown giving away your discomfort.
“i’m doctor koga, but you can just call me, doctor k. you’re here for a check up, correct?” he asks with the kindest tone in his voice.
“yes,” you responded, clearing your throat. you can see the smile in his eyes as he makes his way towards you.
“okay, i’m just gonna check how you’re lookin, alright?”
“mhm!”
he rubs on some hand sanitizer before donning on a new set of gloves. his hands so big, that even the latex strains against his skin. he peers into your ears with an otoscope, gently holding your jaw. he didn’t need to do that, you thought, but he did anyway. after checking your ears, he pulls a sterile tongue depressor out of its package.
“open wide for me?” he questions. you swallow your saliva a bit, a pit forming in your stomach. it was just a simple question, just do it. you open your mouth as he presses the stick against your tongue. you feel the pressure against the muscle build as he presses harder, like he purposefully wanted to do so. you look straight into his chest, reading his name tag to distract yourself. his other hand somehow pulls your chin down while keeping your head up to open your mouth wider as if he was a dentist counting your teeth. you didn’t think too much of it, not wanting to get ahead of yourself. that is until you feel the depressor go deeper into your mouth, inducing you to gag. at the first gag, your watering eyes shoot straight up at his. you can see the glint in his eyes grow sharper. his kind look having a slight mischievous intent to it. at the second gag, your tongue retracts to save yourself from the feeling. you can hear him click his tongue.
“stick your tongue out a bit longer, can you?” he asks. and you do exactly that.
at the third gag, you feel your saliva start to drip, hearing the droplets land between your thighs, on the gown. he smiles a bit again before releasing the pressure on your tongue. instead of throwing away the depressor, you see him return it in its package, like he was saving it for later. he rips off his gloves and pulls off his mask. it’s like your breath was physically taken from your chest when you see his face. he seemed to have noticed your expression as he smiles slyly.
“i’m gonna go ahead and check your heartbeat, alright?”
as if you already weren’t at a loss of words, you nod with alert eyes. he brings the stethoscope to your chest. he tells you how to breathe as you watch him listen to the cadence of your inhales and exhales. his eyes are glued to you. no not at your eyes, but where his hand rests to monitor your breathing. you feel him press the cold instrument to your nipple, eliciting a sharp inhale. he looks up in your eyes quickly, and you can’t help but look back. he takes it away, looking at the hardened mound through the paper. he presses it against your bare back, your spine arching from the cold. your try to breathe as normally as you can, even though you both know how you’re feeling.
he takes a look at his clipboard.
"i notice you allowed your primary doctor to conduct breast exams at every annual check up. would you still like to do so-"
"yes," you respond, a little too quickly.
"lay down for me?" he asks. you do so as you rest your head against the top of the table. his hands are bare now, and so is his face. his hand reaches for your boob, feeling around the flesh, pinching and squeezing around. half of him was actually checking for any red flags in your health, but the other half was prolonging the exam to feel every bit of you. his other hand does the same to the other one. you hear the paper rustling as he feels around. as if the action didn't already confirm part of his intentions, you see the tent growing in his pants as you look to the side of the table. the tent pressing into the edge of the high table, hips rolling every now and then to relieve the delicious pain.
"you can take it off.." you murmur quietly. "she normally takes the gown off... to perform a more... accurate... exam..."
he chuckles at your timid eagerness.
"you're right," he responds as he carefully pulls the gown down. cold air hitting your skin forms even more prominent goosebumps, your entire upper body being exposed. his contrastingly warm hands make contact with your mounds again. you press your lips together in hope to not let out a sound. his hands smooth over your torso, eyes watching your expressions and blatantly checking you out. his fingers go to flick and pinch at your nipples. you let out a slight yelp and almost immediately hold your breathe.
"sorry,' you say, almost breathlessly, even though he hasn't done a thing.
"nothing wrong with making a sound, please feel free to be as loud as you like, it's a part of the exam after all," he smirks.
he brings his head down, face to face with your chest.
"are you okay with this?" you nod in response. his mouth envelopes your areola. you feel him suck and nip at your sensitive skin. his tongue works circles around it, hot air from his breathe spreading throughout your body.
"do you consent to a full body exam?" he asks, pulling away. yet again, you nod without question. he rips off the paper gown, leaving you in your underwear. you feel electricity as his fingers trail down to where you need him. a wet spot, now wetter, was formed a while ago, but you feel ashamed to have it seen by the cause now. his fingers swipe over the wet fabric.
"i think you're responding well," he jokes, fingers pulling the fabric aside to swipe are folds. "what do you think?" he brings the slick coated fingers to your mouth, allowing you to lick and suck at his fingers. he pulls them out to take off your underwear completely. he runs his fingers up and down your folds, quickly circling and finding your clit. he sticks one finger inside of you, leaving your hand flying over to your mouth. he sticks another one in, scissoring you open and plunging them as deep as he can go. you're left breathless even before he starts rapidly thrusting them in and out of you, your body convulses in pleasure. you can hear his other hand pull down his pants, you look down and see him pull himself out. thick, heavy, bleeding with precum. he looks at you again.
"do you-"
"whatever you do, i consent to," you say, blurting out.
wasting no time, his fingers leave you, just to be replaced with him. he splits you open, muscles stretching at the feel of him entering you. it hurts so bad but impatience hits you as you forcefully slam yourself towards him. he lets out a low groan, throwing his head back. after adjusting, his hips are thrusting into you, your body bouncing from the force. his hand circles your clit skillfully, your back arching up. your juices leak out, soaking his scrubs and the white coat he wears.
"ugh- i'm-"
"let it out- mph- i-i'm right there with you"
an unbearable amount of pleasure hits you, vision running white as you release on him. he grunts and rides out your orgasm as he finds release inside your warmth.
----
"all set any questions?"
"is it possible to set you as my primary doctor for annual check ups?"
he laughs under his breathe. "of course, i'll have to check in with that, i don't mind having another patient, especially one like you."
you laugh in response.
"i'll see you next year?"
"actually... can i schedule my checkups to be biannual...?"
"you absolutely can, but just know, i can give you check ups anytime... even outside of the office, just give me a call," he smiles, handing you a slip of his personal number.
A volatile late-night argument between two stubborn lovers abruptly shifts into raw, consuming passion, blurring the line between anger and possession.
pairing: kim ryul x fem/reader (y/n)
genre: angst with a happy ending, possessive male lead, established relationship
The silence hanging between Y/N and Ryul felt heavier than any argument they’d ever had. The tension in the room was suffocating. Both of them stood there, furious and wounded, far too stubborn to admit just how deeply the fight was tearing at them. Ryul’s usual cool, composed composure had shattered, replaced by a raw, volatile frustration he was desperately trying to keep under control.
"You never listen, Ryul!" Y/N snapped, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes with a defiant glare. "You always act like nothing ever gets to you like you can just turn around, walk away, and everything will magically be fine!"
Ryul’s jaw tightened, his calm expression finally snapping. "You think I don't care?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low. "You think I'm just playing around here?"
"Because you never explain anything!" Y/N threw back at him, chin tilted up bratty and challenging. "You just shut me out and expect me to stand here and accept it!"
"Because every single time I try, you're already flying off the handle!" Ryul barked back, the anger finally cracking through his throat. "What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"
"Oh, fuck you, Ryul," she sneered, scoffing as she turned her shoulder to him.
The sharp words hovered in the air like a dare. But instead of the cold, dismissive silence that usually followed, the atmosphere in the room shifted, crackling with a sudden, dangerous electricity. The space between them felt both impossibly vast and suffocatingly small.
Ryul’s eyes, dark and stormy, didn't leave hers for a single second. The anger was still radiating off his broad shoulders, but it began to warp, melting into something far more volatile.
He took a single, deliberate step forward. His gaze dropped down to her lips before dragging back up to meet her defiant eyes, the frustration in his expression now heavy with a heat that was impossible to mistake.
"Is that an invitation?" Ryul asked.
He closed the remaining distance between them in two long strides, stopping mere inches from her. His entire body was a rigid line of forced restraint, though his breathing had grown uneven. The clean, sharp scent of his cologne cut through the heavy air. He didn't touch her yet, standing over her like a question poised on a knife’s edge.
"Because if it is..." Ryul murmured, his voice dropping into a low, rough rasp, "...you should know by now I don't do anything by halves."
Before Y/N could toss back another bratty retort, the last thread of his control snapped.
Ryul moved with predator-like speed. One of his large hands shot up to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling firmly into her hair not to hurt her, but to claim her, anchoring her right where he wanted her. He didn't go for her mouth. Instead, his head dipped, his hot lips pressing fiercely against the curve of her neck, right over the frantic pulse thumping under her jaw.
His mouth was searing and urgent against her skin. It wasn't a gentle kiss; it was a brand, a punishment, and a declaration all at once. His other arm wrapped tightly around her waist, hauling her body flush against his until there wasn't a sliver of air left between them.
"See?" Ryul growled against her flesh, peppering desperate, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat. "This is what you do. You make me like this."
His breathing was ragged, his heavy chest heaving against hers. Every press of his lips was fueled by the unresolved argument, transformed now into a consuming fire. He tasted the faint salt on her skin and felt the sudden shudder running through her, which only drove him deeper. His teeth grazed the sensitive cord of her neck not quite biting, but balancing perfectly between a threat and a promise.
He pulled back just enough to look down at her, his eyes blazing and his lips damp. His voice was wrecked, stripped completely raw.
"I don't kiss your neck when I'm angry," Ryul told her, his dark gaze locked on hers. "I take it. Because it's mine." He leaned back in, his hot breath fanning over her damp skin. "And you're furious with me. So go on—tell me to stop."
His challenge hung in the dense air like a line drawn in fire. The rumpled bed waited just behind her, but Ryul didn't wait for her to speak. He took the defiance in her hands as the only answer he needed. Her fingers had already hitched into the hem of his black t-shirt, and his own hands immediately moved to the edge of her top.
His movements were swift and purposeful. Gathering the soft cotton of her top in his fists, his knuckles brushed against the warm skin of her waist. A low, rough sound escaped his chest when her nails scraped over the hard plane of his stomach.
"There you go..." Ryul breathed against her mouth, his lips hovering a hair's breadth from hers. "Show me how mad you are."
With a single tug, he pulled her top up and over her head, discarding it to the floor without a second glance. The cool bedroom air hit her bare skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his eyes sweeping over her. Y/N yanked his shirt up in return, and Ryul broke their near-kiss long enough to raise his arms, letting her strip it off him until it joined hers on the floor.
Now bare from the waist up, the defined lines of his torso were on full display, his muscles tense and shifting with every heavy breath. He stared down at her with hooded, dark eyes, drinking in the sight. The anger was still there, but it had been forged into something entirely focused on her. He brought his hands up to cradle her face, his calloused thumbs stroking over her cheekbones.
"See?" Ryul whispered, his voice shattered. "No walls. No act. Just this. Just you wrecking me."
He dipped his head, finally closing the torturous gap to capture her mouth with his own.
This kiss wasn't like the ones on her neck. It was deeper, slower, a total conquest. It was all heat, tongue, and the lingering, bitter taste of their argument, now sweetening into something desperate. One of his hands slid down the curve of her spine, pulling her even tighter against him.
His mouth left hers with a sharp intake of air, trailing a hot, wet path down her throat and over the swell of her breast. He didn't tease; his target was deliberate. His lips closed firmly over one taut peak, his tongue laving over it before he pulled back just enough to speak, his searing breath making her skin shiver.
"These get so hard for me when you're pissed off," Ryul rasped out against her flesh, a dark smirk in his tone. "You think I don't notice?" He flicked his tongue over the tip in a sharp, deliberate stroke. "You clench that pretty jaw of yours, and these tighten right up, begging for it."
His hand came up to palm her other breast, his thumb rubbing rough, slow circles around her nipple. His gaze lifted, locking onto hers with unmistakable intent.
"Tell me I'm wrong," Ryul challenged, his teeth lightly grazing her sensitive skin. "Tell me you weren't thinking about my mouth right here while you were screaming at me."
Y/N let out a shaky breath, rolling her eyes even as a shudder ran through her frame. "You are literally impossible, Ryul."
A soft laugh escaped him, but the sharp edge of the argument had officially dissolved into sheer heat. The anger was gone, leaving them raw and exposed. Ryul released her chest, resting his forehead against her sternum for a brief moment as his breath hitched.
"Impossible?" Ryul echoed, his voice thick as he nudged his nose against her skin. "Yeah. For you. Only for you."
His hands slid down her sides, mapping the curve of her waist and the dip of her hips. His touch was no longer punishing, but fiercely possessive. He straightened up, his hands gripping her hips firmly as his eyes searched her face, catching every flicker of emotion she tried and failed to hide.
He leaned in for another kiss, but this time it was slow and deep, a silent apology wrapped in a demand. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her completely. When he finally broke away, both of them were breathing heavily.
Taking her lack of resistance as an invitation, Ryul’s hands dropped to the waistband of her jeans. His fingers worked the button and zipper with practiced efficiency. Without a word, he peeled the denim down her legs, kneeling before her to strip them off. He then shoved his own dark sweatpants down, kicking them aside effortlessly.
The remaining barriers of fabric were gone in seconds. His boxers were tossed to the floor, and with a single hooked finger, he snapped the thin lace of her thong, sliding it down her legs. The atmosphere in the room was thick with heat and tension.
Ryul didn't ask. His hands gripped her hips, turning her around with firm, guiding pressure.
"On your knees," Ryul commanded softly, all playfulness gone from his voice. "Now."
Y/N huffed out a breath, but she obeyed, sinking down onto the mattress. The cool sheets brushed against her skin, contrasting sharply with the heat radiating off him. Ryul moved up behind her, his hands roaming the bare curves of her back and down to her hips. His touch was deliberate, mapping her body as if committing it to memory.
Leaning over her, he pressed his chest against her back, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as his hot breath fanned over her skin.
"Look at you," Ryul whispered roughly into her ear. "All that attitude... and here you are. For me."
He kept one hand anchored firmly on her hip while his other arm slid around her front, his fingers splaying low across her stomach to pull her back tight against him. He was hard and unyielding against her, rocking his hips against her slowly in a torturous friction that drew a soft gasp from her lips.
The blunt tip of his shaft nudged against her slick heat. He rocked forward, teasing her sensitive center without fully entering, testing her patience. A low groan vibrated in his chest, echoing against her spine.
"So fucking wet for this," Ryul rasped against her ear, every word a slow stroke. "For me." He pushed forward just an inch, testing her before drawing back. "Is this what you wanted all along? To pick a fight until I put you on your knees and take you apart?"
His hand slid lower, his fingers tangling through her damp skin until he found her sensitive center, rubbing a firm, deliberate circle that made Y/N arch her back into his chest.
"That's it," Ryul chuckled, a rough, breathless sound. "Tell me." He pressed down harder, his grip on her hip tightening like a vise. "Use your words, brat. Or just shake for me. It's the same thing."
Before she could spit back an answer, he withdrew his hand, leaving her breathless and aching. Ryul aligned himself properly behind her, and with one swift, smooth push of his hips, he buried himself all the way inside her.
The sudden fullness tore a sharp cry from Y/N's throat. Ryul held himself there, deep and solid, both of them trembling at the sudden, overwhelming connection.
"Fuck," Ryul hissed through his teeth, dropping his forehead between her shoulder blades. "You're like a vise... clenching around me like you're still trying to fight."
He didn't give her time to adjust. Pulling back almost all the way, he slammed home again, establishing a punishing, relentless rhythm. Every deep thrust hit home, his pelvis smacking against the back of her thighs. His sweaty chest was a solid wall against her back, one arm banded tightly across her collarbone to keep her upright while his other hand kept her hip pinned.
"This is what you do to me," Ryul rasped in her ear, his words punctuated by the heavy snap of his hips. "All that sharp talk... that fire in your eyes... it just makes me want to fuck it right out of you. Claim it. Make it mine."
The room filled with the sound of skin against skin, their ragged breathing, and the rhythmic creak of the bed. He dominated her senses—his scent, his heat, his weight pinning her down. He nipped possessively at her shoulder.
"Say it," Ryul demanded. "Say you're mine. Right now."
Before Y/N could answer, his hand shifted from her collarbone up to the delicate column of her throat. His palm pressed firmly against her skin—not cutting off her air completely, but applying a deliberate, undeniable pressure that held her pulse captive under his thumb.
"Feel that?" Ryul murmured darkly against her ear, his hips never missing a beat. "That's mine. Your heartbeat. Your breath. It's all mine right now."
His grip tightened just a fraction, taking total control over every breath she drew. He held her locked between his hand on her throat and his grip on her hip, driving into her with relentless force.
"That's it," Ryul coaxed, his hips snapping forward harder, forcing a choked sound from her throat. "Let me hear it. Let me feel you give up."
He maintained the pressure, controlling her completely. His forehead rested between her shoulder blades again as his thrusts grew heavier and faster.
"Ugh, fuck..." Y/N gasped out, her demeanor cracking as the pleasure overwhelmed her. "I'm going to..."
Reaching back, Y/N tried to grab his hips to slow his punishing pace, but Ryul was far too quick. In one fluid motion, he caught her wrist, pinning it behind her back. When she tried to resist with her other hand, he snagged that one too, locking both of her wrists together in a single, unbreakable grip at the small of her back. The position forced her chest to arch forward, opening her up and deepening his entry even further.
"Trying to run the show now?" Ryul asked, letting out a low, dark laugh against her shoulder. His grip on her wrists tightened. "Not a chance."
Holding her hands secured behind her with one fist, he used his free hand to clamp back onto her hip, leveraging his strength to drive into her with ruthless precision. Every thrust shook her frame, making her feel completely exposed and at his mercy.
"This is my show," Ryul whispered, his lips brushing her temple as his hips snapped forward hard. "You just feel it. You take it. And you come for me."
The restraint amplified every sensation. With her hands bound, Y/N couldn't brace herself. Ryul controlled the pace, the depth, and every movement. His thrusts were heavy and relentless, echoing in the quiet room.
In the chaotic heat of his rhythm, Y/N tried to shift her weight to cope with the intensity, but the movement threw off her balance. With her hands locked behind her back, the next hard drive of his hips sent her tumbling forward, her face burying directly into the mattress.
Ryul grunted, his grip on her wrists tightening instinctively to keep her safe as she fell, his body flattening over hers without breaking the connection for a single second.
"Whoa," Ryul muttered.
She was flat on her stomach now, her face pressed into the bedding, though her hips remained arched high under his weight. The position left her even more exposed. Ryul hovered over her, his chest heavy against her spine, his knees bracketing her legs, and her wrists still pinned firmly in his hand.
He didn't stop for a breath. Planted firmly over her, he drove back into her with a renewed, possessive rhythm.
"Fuck... even better," Ryul growled into the nape of her neck, his hips snapping forward in deep, punishing strokes. "Can't go anywhere now. Can't do anything but take it."
The new angle was deeper and far more intense. Every drive of his hips pushed her slightly into the mattress, muffling her breathless gasps. Ryul used his weight to keep her pinned, the sound of their bodies joining growing wetter and louder over the creak of the springs.
He lowered his mouth to her shoulder, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. "All mine," Ryul reminded her, punctuating every word with a hard, grinding thrust. "Every. Single. Inch."
Releasing her wrists at last, Ryul snaked his arms under her shoulders, locking his hands over her collarbone to pull her upper body back against his chest. The position arched her spine dramatically, giving him complete control to piston into her with even greater force.
"Come on," Ryul rasped into her ear, his breath ragged. "Let go. I can feel you tightening up... right on the edge. Fall for me."
A sharp, breathless scream tore from Y/N's throat, completely shattered as a wave of intense pleasure crashed over her. Her entire body went rigid, her muscles convulsing tightly around him as the climax hit her, wave after punishing wave.
"That's it... fuck, just like that," Ryul groaned, a deep, guttural sound of triumph. His own rhythm stuttered as her walls clamped down on him, his hard-fought control finally shattering.
He held her tightly against his chest while she shook through the peak. As her desperate cries faded into soft whimpers against the bed, Ryul’s own movements turned wild and unrefined, chasing his own release.
"Not done..." Ryul gritted out through his teeth, driving into her with frantic force. "Gonna fill you up... mark you..."
With one final, shuddering drive, Ryul buried himself as deep as he could go, his heavy body bowing over hers as he came. He held himself completely still, every muscle in his back locked rigid as pulse after pulse spilled deep inside her. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their ragged, heavy breathing.
Slowly, the tension drained from his broad frame. Ryul loosened his tight hold on her shoulders, letting her sink softly back down onto the mattress. He rested his forehead against her shoulder blades, pressing his hot lips to her damp skin in a silent caress.
He stayed atop her for several minutes, his heavy weight a comforting anchor as their breathing gradually slowed.
"Fuck," Ryul exhaled softly, the warm air ghosting across her spine.
Finally, he shifted, rolling his weight off her to lie at her side on the rumpled sheets. He stayed close, wrapping one arm possessively around her waist and resting his hand flat over her stomach.
"You okay?" Ryul asked softly, his voice wrecked as he nudged his nose against the back of her shoulder.
His fingers drifted lazily across her skin, tracing soothing patterns over her ribs. All the earlier aggression had completely burned away, replaced by a deep, quiet tenderness. He pressed a gentle kiss to her spine.
"I got... a little carried away," Ryul admitted, his tone sheepish and stripped of all command.
Y/N let out a soft, tired sigh, her earlier bratty energy completely spent. "Mhm... I'm fine."
Ryul relaxed at her words, his shoulders dropping. His hand settled warm against her side, anchoring her to him.
"Good," Ryul murmured, burying his face into the nape of her neck, his voice muffled by her hair. "Wouldn't know what to do with myself if you weren't."
He didn't move after that, simply lying there in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, holding her close as the room quieted down around them.
⤷ in which euijoo cancels plans with you to study, but you make absolutely sure he learns his lesson — part two of what a loser !
nsfw! sub!euijoo, fwb, nerd!euijoo, dom!reader, degradation kink, public sex, use of vibrator on euijoo, cumming in pants, briefly mentions anal and finger sucking. wc: ~3.2k
the last time you’d seen euijoo, he was standing in that kitchen with flushed cheeks, messy hair, sweatpants low on his hips, and the cutest look of disbelief on his face after you’d asked, “you know this isn’t a one-time thing, right?”
and after that you’d kissed his cheek, then went your separate ways for the night.
but then… there was nothing. no accidental run-ins in the hallway. no late-night tea brewing sightings. no awkward eye contact across the lobby.
every time you walked past the communal kitchen, you’d glance inside just in case, but he was never there.
you’d roll your eyes at yourself every single time. seriously?
it had only been one weird, unexpected, and ridiculously fun night. you weren’t about to start waiting around for some loser who’d gone right back to burying himself in books. you had plenty of other people who wanted to fuck you, so why were you so bothered by only him?
by the third day, you’d decided he’d definitely been too embarrassed to face you, which honestly, fair enough. after what went down in that communal kitchen, you figured euijoo probably died of shyness every time he remembered it. he’d probably switched dorms just to avoid running into you.
which was exactly why the knock on your door saturday evening caught you completely off guard.
you raised an eyebrow and immediately shot up in your bed. your roommate was out, your friends never knocked, and nobody else really had a reason to just stop by.
you walked over, unlocking the door without thinking.
“you?”
he stood there clutching the straps of his backpack so tightly his knuckles had gone white. he looked like a schoolboy, anxious for his first day of class. the moment your eyes met, his dropped to the floor almost instantly.
he was somehow even cuter than you remembered.
there was something attractively boyish about him. his soft features and hesitant movements, like he still wasn't entirely sure he was allowed to even exist near you despite literally having been inside you before. even now, after finally working up the courage to come see you, he looked one awkward sentence away from turning around and running back to his room.
“hi,” he mumbled, ears already turning pink.
“…hi, euijoo.”
awkward silence. he swallowed, and began, “i, um…” then another silence.
you leaned against the doorframe, folding your arms with the smallest grin tugging at your lips, “you came all the way over here just to say hi?”
“n-no.”
“okay.”
“…”
“…”
“well?”
he let out the tiniest sigh, like he’d been rehearsing this for hours.
“i…” he started, only to stop himself. he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly struggling to spit it out, “...i’ve been thinking about what you said.”
“which part?”
“t-that it wasn’t going to be a one-time thing. i didn’t know if you meant it.” his grip tightened on his backpack straps again before he added, “because i… i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
he finally managed to look up, cheeks burning so brightly you were impressed he’d made it through the sentence at all.
there was that painfully sincere honesty again.
he’d spent days working up the courage just to knock on your door because he wanted to see you again. you couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at you with that much hope over something you’d mentioned so casually.
you didn't answer, but instead, a grin slowly spread across your face.
his heart immediately started racing. "...w-what? did i misread this? sorry, i know i probably shouldn’t have come–”
you reached forward before he could overthink it, fingers grabbing his shirt by the collar. his breath hitched and before he knew it, you were tugging him forward with surprising ease, like he was made of jelly. his shoes stumbled across the threshold as you pulled him into your room.
"wait–"
the door swung shut behind him and you locked it without a second thought.
you were standing impossibly close. his eyes were wide and bright. it was sweet and addicting, watching how his pupils blew up when he looked at you.
"...you really thought i'd say that just to change my mind? just to, what, give you false hope?" you asked, amusement dancing in your voice.
he could only stare. his cheeks were already turning pink.
"...n-no."
"good." the corner of your mouth curled into a satisfied smile as you looked up at him, "because i really do wanna fuck you again.. i could do it right now.”
his throat bobbed as he swallowed back his nerves. all he could manage was to nod quickly.
you laughed quietly, tilting your head, "so is that a yes, you wanna fuck right now or..?"
“yes! i do. right now. o-only if you’re okay with it…” he tossed his backpack on the floor in a hurry, books spilling out onto the floor. then, he looked at you expectantly like he needed you to take the lead, which you gladly did. you closed the remaining distance between you, standing on your tiptoes.
and after that time… well. he’d kept coming back.
it hadn’t been a one time thing. not at all. in fact, it was more like a once a day thing.
a routine flourished. euijoo would show up when your roommate left for her afternoon lab, which gave you two at least three hours alone (god bless the stem majors for your generous contributions). you'd leave the door unlocked and he’d learned to let himself in. you’d even given him a designated hook for his backpack, since he came straight from the library, like you were the reward for all that studying.
you’d essentially corrupted sweet juju.
you’d molded him in the palm of your hands and turned this mushy, untouched boy into a pussydrunk man whose only goal was to make you feel good. he’d only ever learned how to please you. it was like building your own personal sex toy, programming it to satisfy any lewd act you wanted, customizing it to your liking. it was honestly kind of fucked up how much you loved this.
not only that, you watched him figure out what he liked in real time. every so often he’d bring a new question or request, usually about something he'd never been brave enough to admit he'd been curious about before, even to himself.
he'd ask so cautiously, round cheeks burning the entire time, like he was just waiting for you to laugh at him.
“could we maybe try, uh i think it was called reverse cowgirl?”
“is it weird if i want you to suck my finger while we do it? its probably weird isn’t it…?”
“i heard about anal online, but i don’t know if people actually do that.”
you couldn’t believe he had all of this in his dirty little mind all this time. it was like a checklist, the way you helped fulfill every burning fantasy he’d only ever dreamed of.
but the best part of it all was watching him change.
the painfully shy boy who could barely look you in the eye the first time he'd knocked on your door ever so slowly started warming up to you. little by little, he stopped second-guessing every word that came out of his mouth. he stopped apologizing quite so much. he even started working up the confidence to surprise you every now and then.
he was getting concerningly good at this whole sex thing. honestly, it was hard to believe he was a virgin not that long ago, especially considering that his sex drive seemed to be completely insatiable.
your roommate had just left for her lab, oblivious to what sinful acts were about to happen on the futon or desk or even in the mirror. a familiar flutter blossomed in your chest as you watched the door, waiting for him to walk through it next.
he’d probably show up at your door, boner already poking through his sweatpants, a wet patch on the front, eyes big and pleading for you to please suck it. or maybe he’d start out innocent today, kissing you first thing when he stepped in the room and spending way too long on foreplay before he made sweet, sweet, whiny love to you.
the endless possibilities with him always excited you. just thinking about it was already making you wet and achy between your thighs.
you reached for your phone to ask how much longer he’d be, but there was already a text waiting for you on the screen from two minutes ago.
juju: i’m really sorry, i have a biochem midterm tomorrow and i don’t think i can come over today. i really need to study :<
you stared at the screen. fuck.
you rolled onto your back with an exaggerated groan, tossing your phone onto the pillow beside you.
he'd chosen studying over you. the nerve!
a few seconds later, your phone buzzed again.
juju: i'm sorryyyy
juju: can i make it up to you after my exam?
your annoyance lasted all of three seconds, then a grin slowly spread across your face.
if he wasn't coming to you… well.
there was nothing stopping you from going to him.
𖥻
you never realized the campus library was so obnoxiously big. you'd only ever really stepped foot in it during finals week, usually to pretend to study for an hour before inevitably getting distracted and leaving for coffee.
euijoo, on the other hand, practically lived there.
you pushed through the front doors, immediately greeted by the smell of old books and coffee.
"...how the hell am i gonna find him in here?" you muttered to yourself, looking through the maze of shelves and tables.
first floor. nothing.
second floor. still nothing.
you wandered through rows of shelves, peeking into study rooms and around corners, getting judgmental glances from students you'd accidentally distracted.
then– you sighed dramatically. of course he'd choose the one spot you'd forgot to check: at the top floor, tucked all the way into the back corner, nearly hidden behind a row of towering bookshelves, sat one very sexy nerd.
there he was. headphones on. a steaming mug of tea beside him. blissfully unaware of what was about to happen to him.
the afternoon light was peeking through the blinds, settling on him like warm honey. his eyebrows were knit together in concentration as his eyes darted between his textbook and his notebook.
god, what a dork. you couldn't help but smile.
you quietly walked around the table until you were standing beside him. he didn't notice. you waved a hand in front of his face. still nothing; he was focused like his life depended on it.
rolling your eyes, you reached over and gently tapped the top of his headphones.
he startled, immediately pulling one side off his ear before looking up. his eyes widened, but then, despite himself, he smiled softly.
"oh! hey," he said.
you crossed your arms, "seriously?"
his smile faded into immediate concern, "...huh?"
"organic chemistry?"
he blinked. "...what’s wrong with it?"
"you're choosing organic chemistry over me?"
"i-it's not that–"
"euijoo." you gestured at the mountain of textbooks surrounding him. "you classically conditioned me into being horny at this exact time every day. its mean to just leave me high and dry like that."
a tiny laugh escaped him before he could stop it, "sorry. after tomorrow, i’ll do anything you want me to do.”
that piqued your interested, “anything? like letting me do… this?”
you swung your leg over his thighs and straddled his lap, arms resting on his broad shoulders. your smile grew as you looked down at him, since he was already freaking out.
“a-after tomorrow! after tomorrow, i will. anything you want,” he told you, eyes glancing around nervously to make sure no one was near to see.
“aw, not today? but i’m so horny,” you leaned forward, slithering your hands up to cup his neck in between your fingers. your lips ghosted his as you said, “come on, i need this, juju.. need your big cock inside me.”
he looked like he could’ve cum in his pants right then and there. you could tell his brain was fighting with his dick, but in the end, he was only human.
he pressed his lips to your neck and began to suck.
“that’s what i thought,” you giggled, rolling your hips back and forth on his thigh, “you just can’t say no to me can you?”
he shook his head for no, nose nuzzling your skin. it was true; he was completely and utterly wrapped around your finger, just how you liked it.
you reached down and slid your palm across his already growing bulge, warm and almost hard under your hand.
his eyes shot open as he sucked in a breath, like a mix of pleasure and shock hit him at once. his hands quickly grab your wrist, trying to stop you from going further, because if you did? he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself.
he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “we’re in a library… we can’t.”
you rolled your eyes, “fucking in the middle of the dorm kitchen wasn’t exactly private either, so what makes this different?”
“i-its so quiet in here. what if–”
“stop being a pussy,” you cut him off, grabbing his chin, “you were the one just had to keep studying even though you already had plans. that’s not very nice is it?”
you reached into your purse, fishing around for something. he watched you with big eyes.
you finally pulled out your bullet vibrator. it was small and compact and perfect for situations like this.
“what is that…? no, wait—“ euijoo’s expression was priceless. you loved how innocent he looked, so easy to toy with.
“since you want to study in the library so bad, go ahead. let’s see how quiet you can be,” you told him, sliding the vibrator into his shorts. you rested it on the underside of his semi-hard cock where you knew it was most sensitive, securing it in place by his underwear. you hadn’t turned it on yet, and watching him squirm in anticipation was already so delicious.
“p-please,” he softly begged, “this isn’t a good idea, i’m gonna—“
“then maybe you should’ve come to my room like you were supposed to. but no. you were being selfish,” you told him, “prove to me that you can be good, okay?”
you clicked the button on and he immediately jerked his hips forward. the tiniest moan escaped his mouth and he had to chew on his lip to stop any more sounds from coming out.
you lifted off his lap and into the chair beside him, propping your head on your hands and watching him intently. this was the best entertainment you’d had in a while: sweet, helpless euijoo trying so fucking hard not to make a sound but he feels so good, bucking his hips into nothing.
“i’m sorry,” he murmured, grabbing the table in front of him. his hands were trembling. you could see his dick in his shorts at full length now, rock solid and twitching against the tight fabric. “i s-should’ve done what i was supposed to.. please just-“
“shhh,” you ran a hand through his silky hair, “don’t you wish you listened now? you look so fucking pathetic like that.”
euijoo dropped his head. he looked like his whole body was tensing. his hips kept jerking wildly, unable to keep still like the sensation was just too much.
“i wish i listened,” he said, breath strained, then looked up into your eyes. he looked so lovely like this, so easy to corrupt and control. “i wish i could touch you right now.”
“poor thing. you had your chance but you didn’t take it. you’re so dumb.” you hummed, and softly cupped his cheek just to taunt him. he leaned his head onto your hand, letting his eyes flutter shut, peppering small kisses across your fingers.
euijoo was getting closer. it wasn’t hard to tell. he couldn’t contain himself anymore. tiny whimpers fell from his lips in a slow stream. he was breathing heavily, so embarrassed at how much he was giving in.
“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i was selfish,” he panted. his sounds got a little bit louder, and more strained like he was losing it.
“i like watching you like this,” you tell him. “almost feel bad for you.”
euijoo buries his face into your shoulder. you feel his warm breath on your skin like he’s melting into you.
he moaned into your shoulder, trying to muffle the sound. he couldn’t help himself if he tried. he’s almost there. you ran your fingers through your hair and indulged in the rest of the show.
you whispered in his ear, “i’ll forgive you if you cum.”
“i-i won’t do it again— i’m… gonna come.. for you.”
euijoo gasped. his whole body stiffened as his climax took over. you could see his back muscles flex through his t-shirt. he just looked so pretty.
a wet patch of fabric grew on the front of his shorts, thick, hot cum staining it. while he was still shaking, you reached and turned off the small vibrator through his shorts, deciding he’d had enough for now.
he looked up at you slowly, as if he was going to seek your approval. you scoffed happily.
“do you forgive me?” euijoo asked sweetly.
you nodded, and leaned forward to kiss his forehead, “mhm. you learned your lesson, didn’t you?”
“yes.” he answered immediately. “it won’t happen again.”
you raised an eyebrow. “good.”
there was a tiny pause before he spoke again. “can we go back to the dorm now?”
the hopeful look on his face made you laugh.
“sure.”
that was apparently all he needed to hear.
he immediately started packing up, closing his textbook, haphazardly sliding color-coded notes into a folder. he looked rushed.
you leaned against the table, watching him with an amused smile.
“slow down. we have all day.”
“s-sorry.”
he still hurried anyway.
once his backpack was finally zipped shut and a zip-up was tied around his waist to cover the cum stain, he slung it over both shoulders and instinctively looked toward you, waiting.
“ready?” you asked.
he nodded, “mhm.”
the two of you left the secluded corner together, weaving through rows of bookshelves in comfortable silence.
every time you glanced beside you, his eyes were already on you.
you nudged his shoulder as you stepped outside, “you’re staring.”
his eyes immediately widened, “i-i wasn’t—“
“yes, you were.”
his ears turned pink, “maybe a little.”
you grinned, “you’re such a loser.”
“i know.” there wasn’t even a hint of offense in his voice. if anything, he sounded oddly pleased that you’d said it.
“i’m only a loser for you.” he added.
“oh, shut up,” you shook your head, smiling to yourself as the two of you started the walk back toward the dorms.
it was becoming increasingly obvious that, somewhere along the way, you’d occupied far more of euijoo’s thoughts than either of you had ever planned.
⤷ in which you drunkenly tease your shy, nerdy neighbor for your own amusement, only to find yourself wanting much more than a reaction out of him
nsfw! use of yn, fem!reader, dom!reader, virgin!euijoo, shy/nerdy!euijoo, mentions of drinking, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (m recieving), riding, hints of voyeurism / public sex, not proofread, wc: ~3.3k
you stumble into the communal kitchen inside your dorm building, heels in one hand, keys in the other, mascara slightly smudged in the way you pretend is intentional. your head is buzzing pleasantly from a long night of drinking.
your only goal right now is to make instant ramen without burning the dorm down. so you don’t even notice him at first, standing quietly in front of the kettle. big hoodie. gray sweatpants. round glasses. soft posture. of course he’s making tea.
you only realize he's there when you almost walk into the counter.
“shit,” you mutter, catching yourself, then turning your head.
oh. it’s that boy. the quiet one from your floor. the one who always looks away quickly when you pass by him in the hallways like he's scared of you.
he looks over, and immediately looks like he regrets it. “…hi, y/n.”
god, he’s so awkward.
you grin. “hi there."
you drop your stuff on the counter with far more noise than necessary, tearing open the ramen packet. euijoo keeps sneaking curious, nervous glances. you pretend not to notice... for approximately five seconds.
“so,” you say, leaning back against the counter, watching him openly now, “what's your name again? and how do you know mine...?"
he looks mildly startled, like this interaction has taken an unexpected turn. “e-euijoo, and uhm, we met before...”
"euijoo,” you echo, testing it out. “cute. i'll remember it this time”
his entire body seems to short-circuit at the compliment. it’s incredible. euijoo looks at you like you’ve just descended from heaven.
“so, euijoo,” you continue casually, like this is normal, like you’re not slightly drunk and far too entertained, “quiet night in?"
he glances at the kettle, then back at you, "uh yeah. just making tea."
“i see that,” you say, fascinated. “it’s kind of late for tea, isn’t it?”
he shifts slightly. "it helps me study."
“at two in the morning?”
“..yeah.”
you stare at him for a beat. then grin.
“wow,” you repeat, drifting a little closer to him, “you’re actually real?"
"real? what do you mean?"
“like,” you gesture vaguely, “one of those people who actually does all their assignments and drinks tea and has their life together.”
his expression flickers somewhere between confusion and mild panic. he smiles, shrugs, and avoids all eye contact as he says, "i mean, i don’t really have my life together...”
you laugh. “please. you’re making tea to study on a saturday night, euijoo. i'm just getting home from drinking myself into oblivion. you're already leagues ahead of me.”
your microwave hums behind you. the kettle clicks softly as his water finishes boiling. the tiny kitchen is filled with warmth that feels weirdly intimate. you lean back against the counter again, studying him shamelessly.
“so,” you say, voice lighter, curiosity slipping easily into mischief, “what bars do you usually go to?”
he blinks so hard his glasses shift slightly. “…bars?”
you laugh. it’s almost comical how long it takes him to process the question. “yes, euijoo. bars. those magical places with alcohol and edm music.”
“i don’t really go to bars.”
you tilt your head. “oh? more of a house party guy?”
he shifts his weight awkwardly, forcing a half-smile. "not really.”
of course not.
“no parties?” you ask, mock horror dripping from every syllable. “wow.”
no response. he looked nervous like he was holding his breath.
“wow,” you repeat, then giggle, “you’re actually such a dork.”
“…yeah,” he says quietly, almost like an apology. his ears turn pink. and for some deeply confusing reason, that doesn’t turn you off. it only makes you more curious.
“so what do you do in your free time?” you ask. this was gonna be good.
euijoo wore his anxiety in the tight line of his shoulders. he hesitates like it’s a trick question. “…study. mostly.”
you snort. “pathetic.”
“…and i read sometimes.”
“oh my god,” you grin. “it gets worse.”
and he laughs softly, surprisingly. that made your core flex. you couldn't figure out why.
you watch the way his long fingers curl tightly around his mug and the way he still can’t quite hold eye contact with you for more than a second at a time.
and it’s ridiculous. actually ridiculous. because this painfully shy, tea-drinking, absolutely-not-your-type boy should not be doing anything for you. and yet, there’s something about it. something about the shyness and the softness and the way he looks like he’d cum in his pants if you stepped even an inch closer.
you squint and scan your eyes over every inch of him. why do i find this dork so hot? it makes no sense. you hookup with frat boys, athletes, guys with zero emotional depth. definitely not mr. right's, but you have a brand.
and euijoo... euijoo is standing here blushing because you’re breathing in his general direction. looking at you like you’re something far more interesting than you actually are. and for some deeply irritating reason, it’s working.
you found yourself wanting to know how many layers were hiding underneath all that anxiety. for reasons you couldn't explain, you wanted to be the one to peel them back first.
“god,” you murmur, half to yourself, half to him, “this is so weird.”
he looks alarmed. "what is?”
“nothing,” you say, smiling crookedly. even though it is very much something.
“um, so... rough night?” he asks suddenly.
you raise an eyebrow. “wow. are you making conversation with me, euijoo?”
he looks embarrassed. "sorry.”
“no, don't be sorry.” you say through a laugh. “ but uh, yeah, rough night. went out to the bars just to come home alone at two am.”
you step closer just enough. he smells clean, like laundry detergent and jasmine.
“god,” you murmur, leaning slightly into his space, “you’re so cute. i just wanna—”
you don’t finish the sentence. instead, your hand glides forward and grabs the collar of his hoodie. he freezes.
and there it is. that look. that wide-eyed, slightly dazed expression. you’ve seen that expression before, usually right before things get interesting.
you step even closer. his entire body goes stiff, of course.
“why do you look so nervous, euijoo?” you murmur, barely pretending.
he shakes his head too fast. “i’m not.”
you lean in slightly, close enough now to whisper, breath grazing his ear. he stops breathing.
“you’re very nervous.”
he swallows again like that’s the only motor function he has left.
“...i’m not,” he repeats, voice softer now. a terrible lie.
“no?” you murmur. and instead of pulling away, you stay there. hovering. close. too close. your free hand lifts slowly, coming up to rest on his waist, fingers slowly curling against his hoodie.
“euijoo,” you whisper again, softer this time, almost curious, “is this your first time being this close to a girl like me?”
“…no.” but his voice wavers just a little. and it’s adorable.
your fingers begin to drift lazily from his sleeve… down his arm… slowly, like you’re exploring something that already belongs to you. he visibly tenses, every inch of him hyperaware now.
without breaking eye contact, your hand keeps moving. lower. his breath catches because he knows. because there’s no way he doesn’t know. because your fingers are trailing lower. lower. lower. until they hover right at the waistband of his pants. it's agonizing.
you tilt your head slightly and stare at him. wide eyes, flushed cheeks, lips slightly parted. completely ruined by nothing more than proximity.
“…euijoo,” you murmur softly, fingers barely grazing the fabric, “you’re really bad at lying.”
he doesn’t respond. doesn’t speak. doesn’t move. he just stands there breathing uneven.
you study his face for a second. the panic. the anticipation. the way his gaze keeps flickering helplessly to your lips.
“look at you,” you whisper, almost amused.
still nothing. so you step even closer until there’s barely space left between your bodies. your voice drops, “do you want to kiss me?”
his breath catches audibly, his brain absolutely scrambling for survival, “…i—”
he can’t even finish a sentence, but he’s nodding. you smile softly. “that’s what i thought.”
and then, without dragging it out another second, you kiss him. and euijoo — poor, doomed, completely unprepared euijoo — melts. his body is still stiff as a board, but he's squeezing his eyes shut like this is something unreal happening to him.
it’s almost embarrassing how easily he gives in. how quickly all that nervous tension turns soft beneath your mouth.
you reach and grab his arms to wrap them around your waist. you pull back just slightly, enough to watch him struggle to recover. he looks completely dazed, lips parted, eyes still half-lidded, like you’ve just sent him into shock.
cute. god, it’s so cute.
you reach forward, hands sliding up his arms, then up his chest and up to hook a finger beneath the bridge of his glasses and slide them off slowly. he squints almost immediately, eyes softer now without the lenses between you.
you tilt your head, studying him. somehow, without the glasses, he looked even prettier. his lashes were longer than you expected, framing warm round eyes that kept darting everywhere except your face. he tenses instantly as you stare. of course he does.
“just relax,” you murmur softly, "god, don't tell me that was your first kiss."
he looked away, so nervous you wondered if his heart was beating loud enough for you to hear. "no, i-i kissed a girl in middle school. it was actually a dare but-"
"just shut up," you said. you guide his arms until his hands settle awkwardly at your waist. he hesitates like he’s unsure what to do, so you press closer.
“there,” you whisper, "you can touch me as much as you want. i won't bite, unless you want me to."
and this time when you kiss him again, he kisses back. hesitant at first. nervous. like something in him has finally started to let go. you kiss him harder with no hesitation now. his fingers tighten at your waist. that makes you smile against his mouth. so he does have something in him.
your bodies press closer, his breathing already uneven, already wrecked. and then your hand slides downward, brushing warm skin, moving lower. lower. until they hook lightly into his waistband. his breath catches so sharply it almost sounds painful.
you pause. just for a second. your fingers press slightly, not moving yet, just waiting.
“is this okay?” you ask.
without hesitation, without even pretending to think, he answers. “yes.”
too fast. too breathless. too honest. then, quieter, almost desperate,
“yes… please, just, a-anything."”
you feel heat build up between your thighs at that. dear god, you wanted to badly to finally make him whimper under your touch. to make him forget how to breathe because you made him feel so good. to ruin him so that all he could think about was you.
but then, of course, reality sneaks back in.
“…but,” he adds quickly, “what if someone walks in?”
you grin and lean in close, lips brushing lightly against his ear again.
“don’t worry.” your fingers slip just slightly past the waistband. “that’s what makes it fun.”
maybe its your words or maybe its the way you said it, but something in euijoo breaks. his shaky hands fumble at the waistband of his sweatpants desperately, untying the strings like they were suffocating him. you pull back just enough to watch, a slow smile spreading across your lips as he struggles with the fabric.
his hard cock springs out of his sweatpants, pink, throbbing, and already dripping in precum. its perfectly long and pretty. he glances up at you, eyes wide like he's seeking your approval.
"pretty," you whisper. that earns you a small smile from him, like he was relieved.
with slow movements just to tease him, you kneel down in front of him. you take his full length in your mouth, staring up at him the whole time. he's staring down at you too, mouth widening slowly as he inhales.
"oh my god—" he reaches back to grip the counter behind him, biting his lip to suppress the moans trying to escape his mouth. he chants under his breath, "oh my god. oh my god. oh my god."
cock still stuffed in your mouth, you giggle, and the vibration seems to set him off even more. his legs wobble and he throws his head back. you quicken your pace.
"jesus, you look so pretty." he whines, closing his eyes because if he looks at you like this any longer he won’t survive it. then instinctively grabs a fistful of your hair to try and stop you. you lean back, strings of spit clinging from his dick to your mouth.
"hm? gonna cum already?"
his cheeks turn redder than before. "well... yeah. sorry."
you stand up, giggling again. so fucking cute.
"i like it." you tell him, "you're so sensitive. makes me want to touch you more. see just how good i can make you feel."
euijoo looks completely undone, panting. without breaking eye contact, your fingers slide to the hem of your shirt. you peel the fabric away slowly, deliberately, fully aware of what you’re doing to him. there’s something almost intoxicating about the way he watches like the simple act of you undressing is far more overwhelming than anything that’s happened so far.
"s-should i,” he asks quietly, voice rough, uncertain, “lock the door?”
you pause, jeans halfway off. “what, you scared someone might see?”
his expression tightens instantly. because yes. obviously yes. but he still glances toward the door. still torn between panic and you.
“no one’s coming in here at this hour.” you lean in, close enough that his attention snaps right back where you want it. you pull your jeans off completely. “and even if they were…”
you step closer, brushing lightly against him. euijoo doesn’t look away. he can’t. his eyes track every motion with a kind of helpless intensity, breath already uneven before the fabric even begins to fall.
then your panties hit the floor. the silence that follows is almost deafening. euijoo shudders.
“i don’t think you’d stop me.”
his hands twitch at his sides. “…i—”
but whatever thought he was trying to form disappears the second you touch him again. you grab his broad shoulders and mumble, "stand behind me."
you turn around and position yourself at the counter, hands planted on the cold marble. you lift the back of your shirt so that he can easily access you. he gently rests his hands on your bare ass, hesitating.
"are you sure?" he asks, "i... i've never done this before."
"i'm sure as long as you're sure," you say as you look over your shoulder at him, "i don't care that you're a virgin, euijoo."
he nods, "i really want to. you're b-beautiful. i just don't want to disappoint you. i don't know what i'm doing..."
there’s something painfully sincere in the way he says it.
“disappoint me?” you repeat softly, turning around fully now to face him again. he has no choice but to look at you.
your fingers lift, resting lightly against his jaw. his skin is soft and glowy, not a blemish in sight.
“the fact that you’re this nervous?” your thumb brushes slowly against his skin. “is already getting me off.”
his eyes widen. “…really?”
“i‘ve always wanted to be someone’s first… corrupt them… you want that, don’t you?”
“…i do. badly.”
you smile softly against his lips. “then you’re not disappointing me. not even close.”
and then you kiss him again, slow this time, but infinitely more dangerous. without breaking apart, you gently lead him to the table and push him into a chair. you're straddling him, your dripping pussy dangerously close to his cock now.
"just let me guide you, okay?" you say. he nods quickly.
you shift your hips forward slowly, letting your hands rest against his warm chest. his breath shakes the second you settle onto his cock, his entire body tensing beneath you. you settle down onto him inch by inch.
every small shift seems to send another visible wave of sensation through him. he lets out the faintest whimper, his grip tightening on your waist. his eyes flutter shut for a second before snapping back open, like he can’t decide whether this is too much or not enough.
"that feels so good," he groans.
"yeah?" you can feel your tight walls squeezing around him. "you want me to go all the way down, don't you?"
"yes... yes, please," his head leans back when you do. then, you bounce, and god, the face he makes, totally giving into you, only makes you wetter.
you go faster, the sensation rolling through your entire body and stealing the air from your lungs in quiet, uneven breaths.
his fingers are digging into you now, "oh my god, i don't think i can last much longer, but..."
your rhythm falters for a second, "but what?"
"but i don't wanna stop yet." he says honestly.
pure, unfiltered want.
a small smile curves across your lips, touched with something that almost feels like affection.
“yeah?” you murmur quietly.
“yeah,” he breathes.
your pulse spikes instantly.
“good,” you whisper. “i’m not done with you yet.”
"can you... go back to the counter? the way you were before? i want to try that." he asks sweetly, licking his lips. that earns a smile from you. he was warming up to you. you wish he'd tell you every dirty thought he had, every burning fantasy he'd been dreaming about trying. you oblige, standing and leaning on the counter again.
he comes behind you, positioning himself, holding onto your hips as a guide. you hear him take a deep breath.
and then... he slides into you. you gasp immediately. it feels even better, the angle hitting you deeper. he stalls for a moment, getting used to the sensation.
then, he ruts himself into you. its desperate and a little uneven, but that's what makes it so much better. maybe he doesn't have a clue what he's doing, but all he knows is he wants you so bad.
"yeah, just like that," you coo.
he goes faster. the delicious sounds of your skin slapping begins to fill the room over both of your moans. it sounds like he's trying to say something, but it all comes out as breathy, strained grunts.
he presses his chest flat to your back and wraps his arms completely around your torso. the sudden closeness sends warmth flooding through you as he clings onto you. euijoo buries his face against your shoulder, breathing you in like he can’t quite get enough of you.
"fuck, euijoo, you're gonna make me cum," you say, oddly proud.
"really? do i keep going?" he asks like he's genuinely surprised.
"yes. god, yes, shut the fuck up and keep going." your back arched further with each strained word. that makes his pace quicken even more. he's pounding into you with a certain hunger that you didn't know he had in him.
"just a little— ahh," your words dissolve into moans, your back arching as the sensation peaks without warning. every nerve in your body lights up with a sharp, pulsing intensity that feels almost impossible to contain. euijoo’s name falls from your lips in a broken whisper.
just after you reached your climax, he pulls out frantically, whimpering loudly as his cum spilled out onto the floor between your legs. for a moment, he breathes hard while he's resting against your back and takes it all in.
then, euijoo slowly opens his eyes, like he’s afraid it was all just a dream. his arms are still wrapped tightly around you. his chest rises and falls unevenly against your back, fingers still slightly tense.
“…holy shit,” he whispers softly like his brain is still catching up to reality. “that was…” he trails off, clearly unable to find a word big enough.
“…good?” you murmur softly.
euijoo nods instantly. he breathes out, “good. really good. did... did you like it?"
you couldn't help but laugh, "was my orgasm not proof enough? yes, euijoo, you weren’t as pathetic as i thought you’d be."
you slither around to face him, then melt into his chest. his embrace is warm and strong and sweeter than you expected.
"o-okay. that’s good," his arms tighten around you again like he has absolutely no intention of letting go anytime soon.
Summary: Must come down? You have an odd relationship with your (ex) step brother. C'est la Vie.
Warning(s): Dead Dove Do Not Eat, It's not step-cest, but it's not not step-cest, you guys have to be really cool with a lot of things really quickly okay, ft. The American public school system as gone through by me, your host, trippy, who lived in NYC during high school and went to one (1) house party when he was 16 | 4.3k
THEN | 2007-2012
When you're 11 your mother marries some poor bastard she met at your school. It happens relatively quickly, she introduces you to your future step-father, his kids, and you also find out she's getting married in one fell swoop. Somehow, the meeting is anti-climatic, and you never really bother to learn his name. What you do learn, is that you go to school with his youngest, a kid by the name of Yudai, who you share a lunch period with.
There's a lot to unpack with that, and at 11 years old you don't feel like it.
All you know is that Yudai is the most popular kid in primary school, a marathon runner who's already won gold at his young age of 10, and that everyone knows who he is, and has a crush on him (you included) and now you share breakfasts and car rides to school with him. He's kind, but easy to enrage, and you do it with the type of glee that can only come from a prepubescent child who doesn't understand how to handle their emotions and has to expel them in the best way you know how.
Bullying.
You hide his shoes in the morning, making you two late for school. You steal his running shoes so he can't go to practice, and you make his life a living hell in that house. Stopping the dryer in the middle of it's cycle so his clothes don't fully dry and he's stuck wearing damp shirts and pants. Swapping all of his school pants with the ones your mother replaces because he grew out of them so that he's wearing high waters. You eat all his favorite cereal, his multigrain bars, and snacks that you hate but end up developing a taste for because you don't want him to have it more than you hate it.
And Yudai never, not once, tells on you.
Your mother is too busy pretending to be Mother of the Year to her step-children that she doesn't notice your tantrums for the most part, and when she does she pinches you in places that no one can see bruise and tells you to not ruin this for her. When she's finished berating you in private, she turns back to your step-brother and dotes on him. She goes to all his marathons, meets his teachers when his dad can't, buys him new clothes, brings him out for ice-cream when he does well, and puts his report cards and ribbons up to display around the house. You act out more, oblivious to how Yudai notices whatever it was you had with her. And he doesn't blow up. He doesn't tell on you. He doesn't do a lot of things.
Which makes everything more confusing, and causes you to punish him more.
(Now that you're an adult, you think you punished him for getting a version of your mother you never got. Your therapist would be very proud of you.)
When you're 13, you tell your mother about a spelling bee you're in, excited and pestering her to make time for you. She says something in a sort of blasé fashion that puts in you a bad mood for the rest of the night. Your foot kicking the leg of the dining room table in a fit that tests your mothers patience. You can see it on her face, trying to keep the veneer of loving mother, and Yudai's father is (at the time) none the wiser. Truly, he was a good man, but you couldn't be fucked to care.
Yudai pushes his foot between you and the table leg, and you put more force behind it, repeatedly hitting his ankle. He says nothing, doesn't even flinch, and when family dinner is inevitably over, you storm out of the kitchen and gently (because if you slammed the door your ass would be grass) close the door to your bedroom.
"Is everything okay?" you hear your step-father say, muffled by the door and the space between you all. Like he cares, like you haven't snubbed him every chance you get, and he doesn't mind it.
"Her dad was supposed to call today," your mother says, and you have to give it to her, she's great at lying. You've long since given up trusting your fathers competence, reliable in his unreliability. But it's enough to explain away your attitude, and gives you some time before your mother grounds you, or spanks you when no one is home for your impertinence.
You're pouting, and you know you're pouting as Yudai quietly opens your bedroom door and slips in.
"I got your favorite," he says, holding the fudgesicle out to you, and you sneer at him.
"I don't want it."
"It'll make you feel better," he says easily, settling beside you by your bed. You could kick him, right now, and he'd not be able to stop you with his head right by your knee. But he presses in anyways, his temple against your skin in a move that is fearless despite how much you've antagonized him for the past two years. You snatch it out of his hands, the plastic crinkling as you push it over the top of the popsicle and bite down.
"Whatever." It's quiet for a moment before you say, "I don't think she's gonna come."
"Your mom?"
"Who else would I be talking about, doofus?" you snap, reaching down to pull at his hair harshly. He hisses, lightly slapping your hand away, but makes no movement for retaliation. It makes you feel better, and you hate that.
"I could come." The way Yudai speaks to you is…easy. Kind. You've seen him irritated, enraged as his older siblings pick on him. But not with you. Never with you. You can treat him like the dirt under your shoe, and he still shows up. It makes you feel a little guilty.
"I don't want some 12 year old to be at my spelling bee," you say, and it seems, at the time, very important to you, this age difference. Like it's embarrassing to be seen together. You make his dad pick you guys up a block away from the school so no one knows you're a "blended family" now. You don't talk to him at school, and he takes the hint. He hums softly, shrugging.
"Okay."
You want to tell him: wait. You want to tell him to come anyways. But you don't. You're too prideful at 13, and so you roll your eyes, and shove the stick in the back of his shirt. The popsicle stick is damp, a little sticky, but bare of any fudge. "Get out of my room, loser."
She doesn't show up.
You feel a little stupid getting your hopes up, having known that she wouldn't. But still, you peak out the curtain, looking for her in the throng of parents who do, shoulders sagging when you realize she wasn't there.
Halfway through your word, the gym door clangs open, and Yudai rushes in, a little sweaty with his bangs sticking to his forehead. Across the floor the two of you lock eyes as he slips into the spot reserved for your mother. Your breath catches in your throat, the way you were gripping your pants loosens, and you feel something unfurl in your chest.
You win the spelling bee.
Yudai meets you outside with a fudgesicle and a smile. "Sorry, I was late," he says, "I had to run from practice. I didn't miss too much, right?"
Your eyes burn, and you grab the fudgesicle out of his hand. "No," you murmur shakily, "you only missed one word."
Neither of you mention how you cry as you lick the popsicle.
Things happen really quickly after that.
You go to your first school dance at 14, and your mother tells you to bring Yudai so you do. When you walk downstairs, he chokes on his spit, and his hand feels a little clammy when you hold it. It makes you feel pretty, and a little shy. His dad drives the both of you to the dance, and he tosses out a bye dad! on his way out.
The two of you dance the night away, and you don't tease him at all. He tells you that you look really pretty, taking a step back to look at you in your dress, and his voice cracks just a little. You tuck some hair behind your ear, eyes dropping shyly as you do so, before you punch him in the shoulder.
"Whatever, loser."
Yudai smiles like you personally thanked him.
When his dad comes and picks the two of you up, it's clear that him and your mother have had a fight. The cracks of the inevitable starting to form, and you preemptively mourn the loss of something you never gave yourself a chance to have.
At 15, your parents start arguing more and more. It's always in hushed tones, doors closed just a little too hard, and by that point Yudai's older siblings were already out the house, staying with their mother, so it was just you two left to weather the storm. On the weekends, when he was supposed to spend the weekend with his mom, he opts to stay with you. You never thank him, still eating his snacks, but you're a lot less aggressive with him.
The two of you often make eye contact when his dad is the one who brings you two out of family outings, your mother claiming a headache of sorts. She tries to keep you tethered to her side, but your step-father is persistent, and so you begin to look forward to the days he's able to convince her to let you out of her sight. You can't agree to go with him too often lest your mother complain and pick at you for leaving her alone with a headache and no help, but it's often enough you're free from her clutches.
The two of them get into a fight over letting you go to a small get together with a few of your classmates. Your mother stresses how unsafe it is, how "terrible things will happen to her. She could get trafficked" (her favorite way to scare you) and he argues that you're 15 and should be allowed to hang out with your friends.
Yudai offers to come with you, neglecting to mention he'd been invited himself, and your mother acquiesces.
"Call every hour on the hour. I want pictures to know you're safe," she says, and you grumble out something that has her snapping at you. You barely pay attention to her, as his father says something to your mother that sends them back into another argument. You and Yudai look at each other, before rushing upstairs to get dressed in case your mother changes her mind.
Your friends house isn't far, the music some pop synth Z-100 shit you've heard on the radio, and you bop your head to the sounds, pushing through the crowd, hand reaching out behind you to hold Yudai's wrist.
"Stay with me, okay?" you have to shout over the music, and he steps close enough that his chest brushes your back.
"Thought you'd kick me to the curb when we got here," he says with a laugh, and you nudge him in feigned annoyance.
"Whatever," you say, just as your friends see you. The group of you squeal, jumping around when they see you. Without meaning to, they cut Yudai out, forming a circle around you.
"Bitch, I thought I'd never see you!" Hanako squeals, pushing you away from her to look at your outfit. "God, this is such a cute set. Where did you get the shirt?" She plucks at your v-neck and you slap her hand away.
"Forever 21," you say, "not that it matters, your outfit is way cuter."
"Shut up!" She giggles as Naomi leans in, wrapping her arms around your waist.
"You came here with Yudai?" Her brown eyes gleam with something you've long since learned to be wary of. "You know, for a freshman he's really cute."
"Oh my gosh, right? Like I'd never be caught dead dating one. But if I did, he'd be it for sure," Koko says.
"We met at the door, actually," you say, rocking on your heels as she gives you a red cup. You take a sip and nearly spit it out. "That tastes like shit."
"Beggars can't be choosers," Koko says, taking a sip herself, "it's the only one my dad won't notice is missing."
"So you took his bourbon?"
"Beggars," she says again, twirling under your hand, "can't be choosers. Omg, I have an idea."
There's not so many people that she can't wrangle her party into the living room, but there's enough that it's packed, and you end up next to Yudai again. She's grabbed a bottle, and with the seriousness of a recently turned 16 year old who is drunk, announces that everyone will be playing spin the bottle.
"And I don't care who you get," Koko says, pointing to everyone, "you gotta kiss them or take a shot."
It starts off fun enough. People kiss, take shots in order to avoid "looking gay", some girls kiss each other to impress someone or another. And Yudai kisses 3 people.
Three.
People.
It shouldn't bother you as much as it does, but it fucking does. You hide a grimace when he leans over and kisses another girl who giggles when they part, sitting back to squeal with her friends. You know he's popular. You know a lot of people in your school has a crush on him. You know that.
It bothers you anyways.
Yudai spins the bottle and it lands between you and another girl, and she grins, preening under his gaze as she goes to get up. Before you can say anything, Naomi leans forward, turning the bottle so it lands on you, giving the girl a nasty smile.
"Sorry, it was closer to our firecracker, Steph."
Yudai smothers a smile, reaching up to cup the back of your head and kiss you. It's…awkward, but nice, and you sigh into his mouth. You reach up, holding his forearm, and you think I want this forever. When the two of you pull back it's because the crowd starts jeering, his friends coming over to shake his shoulders. Before he turns to them he says, "you smell really nice."
"Whatever."
You hide a smile, catching your best friends eyes as they reach out to drag you next to them. Koko declares the game over, and those who didn't get to play whine but go back to the party.
"How was it?"
"How was what?"
"The kiss, dummy?" Naomi says, throwing an arm around your shoulder.
"Oh it was." You pause, licking your lips to taste his chapstick before shrugging with a smile. "It was nice."
In the midst of it all, you forget.
You forget.
You forget.
You. Fucking. Forget.
An hour later, when you return home, it's to a shit Storm. Your mother doesn't hit you, but that's only because there's an audience. She does, however, pinch you. Repeatedly. In many different spots, twisting the skin until you cry out and she's berating you for making too much noise.
Your phone is taken. Your bedroom door is taken. Your TV is taken. And you're grounded. You're so grounded that by the time you'll ever be let out the house you'll probably be 30.
This, naturally, causes another fight between Makoto (you finally remembered his name) and your mother. Your door is back by the time you get home from school that following Monday, your phone on your desk, and your TV hooked up. You don't touch the phone or the TV just in case. And you don't close your door, but you start spending time in Yudai's bedroom.
His full sized mattress fits both of you, relatively comfortably, and you sneak into his room in the dead of night. He lifts his blankets so that you can slip in, and you make sure to set an alarm so you two don't get caught.
Your mother starts cautioning you from spending as much time with him. "Remember," she says, one day when the two of you are alone while you cater to her every need, "you and Yudai are not actually related."
"I know, mom."
"You'll tell me if he ever does anything to you, won't you?"
Why in the fuck would I do that? You think. "Yes, mom."
On your 16th birthday you find out about the divorce. Home early because you're not feeling well, you catch Makoto crying at the kitchen table. He tries to cover it up, smiling at you, but it's too late, and you ask him what's wrong.
"Nothing."
You give him a look. "You're getting a divorce," you say, eyeing the papers in his hand, "aren't you?"
He stumbles, stuttering over his words before nodding hesitantly. "You weren't supposed to find out this way," he says softly, reaching over to pull you into a hug, "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
You…don't really know how to do physical affection. Arms awkwardly going up as he apologizes over and over, before gently (awkwardly) wrapping around the man's shoulders and patting them.
"It's fine," you says, patting him with each word, "I should've warned you when we met."
Don't mess this up for me, you remember your mother telling you.
"If I could, I would take you with us," he says, hugging you tighter, "I wouldn't leave you here."
"It's fine," you say again, awkwardly pulling away the longer the hug lasts. You look up at the man who could've been your dad if you had given him a chance, and pat his shoulders again. "It's literally fine. I'll pretend to be surprised when you two sit us down." A slight pause as you mull over your next words. "You're a good dad, Mr. Koga."
You leave before he can apologize again. It's all so very…awkward.
The divorce is messy.
Quick, but messy.
Your mother keeps you home for a week, claiming that it's all too much for you (you were literally fine), but you're pretty sure it's so you couldn't interact with Yudai while him and his father move out. His dad leaves you his phone number with a note telling you to reach out if it things go bad. But you're not stupid, your mother will be checking your minutes and your call logs for the next four months.
She makes you transfer schools during winter break. The two of you move into a shitty two bedroom apartment, a different school district completely, and you're forced to make new friends. Koko and Naomi somehow manage to find you, and they go out of their way to schedule meet-ups.
And for almost a decade, you never see or hear from Yudai again.
NOW | 2022-2026
"Bitch—" Koko flops down in front of you as Naomi hands you a smoothie— "you will never believe who I saw at the grocery store today." She pauses for dramacity, and Naomi rolls her eyes, tossing a napkin at her girlfriend.
"Are you gonna pose or are you going to tell us?"
"It's a pretty pose at least," she snipes, leaning over to kiss Naomi as you scoff.
"Gross."
"Sue me, we're in love. Do you know how long it took me to get over my internalized homophobia?"
"The same amount of time as it took for all of us to get over it," you say, and Koko reaches over to swipe at you. You duck with a snicker, and gesture.
"Who did you see?"
"Do you remember Mr. Koga?" She doesn't give you any time to respond, continuing on. "Saw him at the grocery store. He asked about you. Which, by the way, judging by the shiny ring on his left finger means he's married. And look, I'm not a fan of cheating, but I get it. He's such a silver fox, I'll support your bad decisions every time."
You suck down your smoothie in thought, looking out across the street, eyes following car after car passing the group of you by. Your two friends look at you as you ponder something, so used to the level of your silence they know when to wait you out. You think about it. The shape of this secret that didn't need to be one, but became one as time went by. The shape of the way you were never allowed to mourn in public for this thing that hurt you, cleaved you in half and spat you out no matter how much you tried for it not to. You look at it, taste the sourness of grief, and then let it go. The secret served you no purpose, the grief need not be held as long as you have had it, and you tell them.
"He was my step-dad for a few years," you say, resting your bottom lip against the straw. Just as expected, Koko and Naomi respond with confusion. One louder than the other.
"What the fuck?"
"When?"
"Why did we never know this?" They say together finally, and you shrug helplessly.
"From, like, 11 to 16," you say, still looking away from them, "and then they got divorced."
Koko repeats What the fuck, and Naomi reaches out, gently grabbing your hand.
"Why?"
You struggle with the why for a moment. How do you explain that all you had ever wanted was someone to rely on, but you knew it couldn't be him. How do you explain knowing, intrinsically, that your mothers predictability, her inability to truly change, but consistent in remaining the same vitriolic, angry, bitter (sadhurtbroken) person who destroys what she touches because she never deigned to learn any better, never thought to, never wanted to, even if it meant something soft and safe for you, her daughter. You run your tongue across your teeth just as Koko gasps dramatically.
"Oh my god, that means you two were siblings when you kissed!"
You thank every god out there at her ability to make the strangest things sound like hot gossip instead of something disgusting.
"Yeah."
Naomi places a hand on her girlfriends shoulder, resting her, leveling her confusion and excitement to have found out that there was something you never told her. (Koko, you know, is always excited to learn gossip, because she likes knowing things. In the near 20 years of knowing her, that fact has never changed.)
"Why?" Naomi repeats, and you shrug.
"At first?" You hold your cup with both hands. "I was embarrassed. My mother kind of…shoved it on me when they were already engaged and had a wedding date. And I was so mad, I didn't even know how to talk about it." Your foot taps against the metal leg of the table. "Like so mad, and I really didn't want anyone to know because I just knew it wasn't going to last. I had this huge crush on Yudai, I was barely old enough to understand why it even mattered, so I didn't want anyone to know."
You laugh, turning your hand over and squeezing your hand into a fist.
"God, I was so mean to him for the first two years." You shake your head. "And then it just…became something that I didn't want to acknowledge. By the time I even thought of saying anything we'd kissed at your birthday party and I didn't want you guys to think I was weird, and then they got divorced so it didn't make sense to say anything."
It's quiet for a moment before Koko says, "So not having an illicit affair with your ex-stepdad, got it."
"You are so…"
"I'm just saying!" she throws her hands up, before placing her hand over yours. "Your mom sucks."
"So much," Naomi adds.
"So fucking much," Koko says, and you laugh, something a little watery and relieved. "I took his number, by the way, if you wanted it."
"Nah," you shake your head, "I think it would be better if I left that chapter closed. I doubt it would make a difference anyways."
"Mm, girl, I don't know," Koko says, but shrugs with a smile, "But I respect it. If you ever change your mind…?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
"Just saying."
"Babe, you're always just saying," Naomi says exasperated, and you think about how there was no way you would have made it this far in your life without them. You think nothing of it afterwards, happy to have a bleeding and festering wound be treated, loved and cared for, even after a decade of it weeping puss.
So imagine your surprise when you bump into Yudai one summer morning as you do your biweekly grocery shopping. You're measuring a cantaloupe in your hand when you hear your name behind you. The persons voice does not sound familiar, and so you don't turn around, but whoever it is decides that they can touch you, and you almost whirl around and fling the canteloupe at their head.
The only thing that stops you is the familiar visage of one (1) Koga Yudai, who, the last time you had seen, had been 15 and still growing into his features. You blink once, twice, three times before you damn there drop the canteloupe. He catches it before it hits the floor, a sweet smile on his face and reflexively you say: "What the fuck are you doing here, loser?"
"Long time no see, Firecracker."
You roll your eyes, grabbing the canteloupe out of his hands. "Long time no see, Yudai."
He rocks his heels, looking at you up and down, as if to truly take you in. You feel heat under his gaze, cheeks heating under the depth of your skin.
notes: this is a work of fiction, ofc none of it is real and merely for content. this is also my first time doing a smau. I hope it's accurate but if it's not pls be mindful with the criticism. along with this, I'm currently working on request! but as stated in interaction rules, I tend to go on random hiatus, my exams are also coming soon so I'll be inactive. rn I'm currently on a holiday so expect rlly late updates. But I also have other ideas to work on one day. thanks for reading. Also...I'm pretty sure we can tell who my bias in lngshot is..
this was a very lazy post while I'm working on a req...
♬.ᐟ GIRLS & BOYS | z. yufan & n. riki & k. ohyul
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but then if you’re so smart, then tell me why are you still afraid? hm..?
all content is purely fictional !
Seeing Maki go viral for everything BUT his artistry is so sad to me tbh. He's so incredibly hardworking and talented, but people are so willing to ignore all of it just because he happens to also be hilarious and meme-able. I hope that someday THAT twitter account gets its act together and actually focuses on what he's achieving rather than what he happens to look like.
a/n: god i miss him like he’s my dead wife… also i wish i knew how to write smut it probably would've been so good in this lol
masterlist
"i'm not calling you that," you laugh when he introduces himself on the first day of class. "what's your real name?"
"yudai," he smiles. "but really, nobody calls me that."
"nice to meet you, yudai."
it doesn't take very long for your study dates to turn into real ones.
he confesses first. it happens after the two of you are sitting in the library, discussing the latest script you've had to read for class.
"excuse me," some boy comes up to talk to the two of you. "are you two dating?"
"no," you answer, a bit too quickly for k's liking.
"then can i take you out some time?" the boy asks. you nod politely and give him your phone number.
when he leaves, k is quiet. he's never quiet.
"are you going to go out with that guy?" he finally asks while walking you to your dorm.
"i'm not sure yet," you tell him.
"i don't want you to."
"what?"
"i like you."
"oh."
"i've liked you for a while now."
you replay all of the times that he's picked you up from a party when you're drunk or stayed up late while you finished an assignment.
it's not like you don't like him back. you do, a lot. but you also know how much attention he receives from other girls.
you've always thought it was a bit strange how he liked studying with you so much, but you're good at breaking down scenes and memorizing lines.
it's never occurred to you that out of all of his options, you'd be the one that he chooses. but he's standing here, telling you that he likes you, and you have no choice but to believe him.
so, you let him take you out to dinner. after, the two of you spend the entire night making out and ignoring your homework.
he tells you he loves you after two months of dating. you say it back a few days later.
one night, the two of you are laying in bed and talking about the future.
you confess to him that you've never considered being with someone in the same field as you.
"i think i need stability," you tell him. it's not until he sits up that you realize what you've actually said. i don't see us lasting long term.
he's spent months pouring out his hopes and dreams to you. how he doesn't care about where he ends up and he'll start at the bottom and work his way up if it means that one day it'll all be worth it.
you manage to get him to come back to bed and he holds you until you fall asleep.
in his head, the two of you can make it work. he'll act and you'll write and it'll be okay.
in your head, it's not that simple.
it's not that you don't think he has what it takes to make it big. if anything, k is the most hardworking and talented person that you know.
but you worry about one of you becoming successful before the other, and growing resentful of that. you'd like to think you'd be happy for k. you wonder if he'd be happy for you, too.
things start to unravel when you realize that you can't predict that.
you pull away from him, cancelling dates and making excuses. sometimes, the only time you see each other is during class.
he notices. one day, after you've forgotten that the two of you had plans, he asks you if you still love him.
when you say "i don't know," you swear you can see his heart break.
he nods and suggests that the two of you stop seeing each other, and you agree, and then you go your separate ways.
that night, you cry yourself to sleep.
weeks later, you're still not used to sitting next to someone else in class and pretending like you don't know each other.
the worst part is that your cohort is small. everybody knows. girls start flocking to him again. he lets them.
someone makes up a rumor that he must've cheated on you. you quickly shut it down in front of the entire class one morning.
later that night, he texts you: thank you.
you don't reply.
you convince yourself that you’re not allowed to miss him. that you’re the reason things ended and you deserve to feel guilty about it.
so, when the guy who tried to ask you out in the library all those months ago spots you sitting by yourself, you take his invitation seriously this time.
he’s smart, and nice, and getting his master’s in accounting.
he’s stable.
you still miss k, even at night when your new boyfriend is whispering in your ear about how pretty you are and how good you feel.
every time you see him around campus, he’s with a new girl, and you wonder whether or not you were just holding him back from doing all of the exploring that he wanted to.
you don’t know that he’s never once touched any of them. he just… doesn’t like sitting in his apartment by himself. so, he says yes to every invite he gets, and he gets a lot of them.
you break up with your boyfriend right before the end of the semester, when he asks if you’d like to meet his parents over winter break and the idea of starting a future with him makes you physically ill.
the next few months are spent working on your thesis and going to class. you throw yourself into writing your play, a two-person show about siblings cleaning out the apartment of the brother that they've recently lost to suicide.
you're particularly having trouble casting the twin of the dead sibling, with male actors being in low supply and many already committed to other productions this late into the school year.
you know who'd be perfect for the role. your producer knows too, when she tries to broach the topic towards the end of the audition cycle, after neither of you are impressed by the people you've seen.
"just text him," she tells you gently, but firmly.
"i haven't talked to him in months," you admit.
"he still stares at you in class, you know."
"no he doesn't," you laugh.
"he does. he'd make time for your show if you asked."
"fine. help me draft the text and if he says no, i'm putting you in a wig and sending you onstage."
he replies to you in six minutes flat: send me the script.
a week later, you're introducing him to mina, the undergrad that you've cast as his sister.
"we kind of look alike," he laughs, shaking her hand before looking at you. "was that intentional?"
“i just cast the people i thought did this best during their auditions,” you shrug.
sometimes, you feel useless as a director. it’s not that the actors don’t listen to you—they’re wonderful to work with. it’s just that k has such a way of completely understanding the lines you’ve written that sometimes you have no notes to give, and mina follows suit.
you’re lucky, you think to yourself. but another thought creeps into your head as rehearsals go by: yudai is a much better person than me.
you’ve spent half of the school year ignoring him because you couldn’t make up your mind about how you felt, and he’s so professional that he’s willing to put all of that aside to bring your words to life.
you know now, that if you were still together and you had gotten your big break before he did, he would’ve been really happy for you.
k has never made you question how he feels about you. it’s you that’s the unpredictable one. the reason that it’s never mattered how stable the other person is.
you decide that ultimately it was the best thing for the two of you to break up all those months ago, and that you would’ve just held him back. he shines so much in the role and you’re not sure things would’ve been the same if he were still your boyfriend.
you’re not even sure if this play would exist.
you wonder if when he thinks about how much it hurts to lose someone, if you’re part of the memories that he draws on. you immediately disregard this thought, reminding yourself that losing a twin and ending a three month fling are incomparable.
he stays after rehearsals a lot, to help you reset the classrooms after mina has already gone home.
you move tables and chairs together in silence, clearing off any blocking diagrams you've drawn on the chalkboard.
if it's particularly late, he'll offer to walk you back to your dorm, like old times. you know it's not in the same direction as his apartment, but you let him anyway.
once, while he's saying goodnight, his eyes linger on yours a bit too long before he turns to leave.
"wait," you tell him, grabbing onto his sleeve before he can go. he turns back to you, a flicker of hope on his face.
"yes?"
you stare up at him, your words stuck in your throat.
"do you want me to come up?" he asks softly, as if he's read your mind. his hand is already on your waist.
you nod.
the two of you don't even make it inside your room before he has you pressed up against a wall, his mouth on yours, desperate to make up for lost time.
"tell me you missed me," he sighs, before sucking on your neck, light enough to not leave a mark.
"i missed you so much," you admit in between moans. "so, so much."
he holds you after you finish, just like he used to, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder until you fall asleep.
when you wake up in the morning, he kisses you goodbye, too. sometimes, you walk to class together, although you still make sure to enter separately and sit with other people.
this becomes your routine for the next few weeks. neither of you talk about what it means.
you don't go on dates. you don't touch when you're in public. you just... pick up where you left off when behind closed doors.
there's no "i love you" in the script you've written for yourselves. only "that was nice" or "see you later."
it almost feels easy, not asking for more. at least for you.
for k, he's constantly reminding himself not to repeat the same mistake of smothering you. he'll take what he can get if it means he can have at least some part of you again, no matter how much the lack of certainty hurts.
every day, the play comes more and more together. eventually, it's opening night.
k finds you sitting cross-legged on the stage an hour before the house is set to open, your eyes closed and fingers clasped together.
"i thought you weren't religious," he says, prompting you to open your eyes.
"i'm not," you laugh, standing back up. "just making a wish."
"for the play? you think i'm that bad at acting?" he teases.
"i just get nervous," you admit, crossing your arms. "but i know you're going to do great."
right before he and mina go onto the stage, you hold their hands and tell them how proud and grateful you are for how they've helped shape your ideas into a reality.
k lingers a bit while mina takes her place in the wings, his hand still in yours.
"break a leg," you say, just loud enough for only him to hear. he nods, and then the stage lights come on and he's gone.
the show is better than any full run you've ever done in rehearsals. it goes on for two more nights, each performance becoming stronger as you work through the last-minute kinks.
before you know it, it's over. you're sitting in the theater on a sunday morning, moving furniture onto a truck and packing up costumes and props.
mina goes with your producer to drive the set pieces back to the warehouse, leaving you and k to carry any boxes of smaller things to your dorm.
neither of you talk, knowing that there's no excuse to see each other outside of class anymore.
graduation is in three weeks. you've run out of time.
“you’re headed to chicago, right?” you ask him midway to your building.
“you heard,” he smiles.
“yeah.” you don’t know how to tell him you’re happy for him.
“what about you?”
“i don’t know.” there are those words again. they land heavier than you intend.
“i mean, i don’t have anything lined up,” you clarify. “i applied to a few programs at some theaters but i haven’t heard back from anyone.”
“there’s still time,” he says. he’s always believed in you, even when you’ve felt you didn’t deserve it.
you stop walking and set the box in your arms down on the pavement. k notices and does the same.
“is everything okay?” he asks. his voice is soft, like when he talks to you late at night.
you look at him and do your best not to cry.
“i don’t know anything,” you say, barely above a whisper. “i—i don’t know anything.”
you can’t hold your tears back any longer the second he pulls you into his chest, your sobs coming out muffled.
“i’m sorry,” you tell him, although neither of you are sure what the apology is actually for. “i’m sorry, yudai. i’m sorry. i’m so—”
“shh, it’s okay. you don’t have to apologize. it’s okay.”
“it’s all my fault.”
“what is?”
“us.” and there it is. the guilt that you’ve been carrying for months is finally out in the open.
you feel his grip on your body loosen, as if he’s somehow finally remembered how much you hurt him all that time ago.
“yudai?” you ask, peering up at him through blurry eyes.
he’s quiet, thinking of what he wants to say.
"you never asked me," he finally speaks.
"what?"
"if i still loved you. when we broke up."
you stare at him, your mind blanking on a reply.
"i wanted you to." his voice is steady, his expression calm. it's as if he's practiced these lines before. "i wanted to tell you that i loved you so much, and that i'd wait for you to feel the same way back. but i could tell it wasn't what you wanted to hear, anyway."
"no, it wasn't," you shake your head. "i had already made up my mind."
"you've always been so honest with me," he laughs halfheartedly.
"that's not true."
"it's not?"
"when i told you i didn't know... it wasn't exactly a lie. i had a lot going on inside my head," you explain, pausing to prevent yourself from rambling. "what i'm trying to say is that i realized that same night that i did love you. but i had already hurt you and i was worried i'd do it again and again."
it takes him a second to register your words. you stare at your feet, waiting for him to be mad at you. to tell you how much time you've wasted that you could've spent together.
instead, he wraps his arms back around you. he holds you tight for a long time, long enough for your heart to slow down to match his.
eventually, you both pick up the boxes and continue with your walk.
you don’t invite him to stay after. he doesn’t ask to.
it takes you hours to fall asleep without his touch.
the cast party comes a week later. between how hot it is outside and the school year basically being over, everybody is drinking and you run out of ice much too quickly.
“i’m going to refill the bucket,” you say, lifting it into your arms. it’s big and heavy and k quickly sets his cup down to help steady you.
“i got it,” he says, taking it from you as if it weighs nothing. you haven’t talked to him since that day.
the dorm kitchen isn't far, but every second that passes feels like hours.
you watch as he fills the bucket with ice, careful not to drop a single cube onto the floor.
he looks so pretty in his dress shirt, his hair a little bit messy as if he ran out of his apartment to make sure he wasn't late today.
you know how badly you're going to miss seeing his face around campus.
"do you remember that wish you caught me making?" you ask. "on opening night."
"i do," he answers, looking up at you so you know he's listening.
"it came true. last night. i got an email about being accepted into one of those incubator programs."
he immediately gets up from the ice bucket to hug you, your feet leaving the ground for just a moment before he sets you back down.
"that's amazing," he tells you, his hands still resting on your waist as if that’s where they belong. "where is it?"
"chicago."
you watch as a big smile breaks out across his face.
"it's only for six months," you add. he can hear the apprehension in your voice. "i don't know what i'll do after that."
"you'll figure it out," he reassures you. "you're better at making things work than you give yourself credit for."
you glance over at the bucket. the ice has already started to melt.
there's something about his certainty that shifts something in you, and you realize that this isn't fate. it's a result of all the hard work that both of you have put in to fulfill your dreams.
"i'm scared," you admit. "i don't know if i'll ever stop being scared."
"probably not," he nods. "but i'll be there. whether we're in the same place or not, i'll always be there for you. and we can try to manage it."
he doesn't tell you not to be afraid. he doesn't say that everything's going to be fine. he just... promises to stay.
"yudai?" you ask, hesitant to meet him where he's at, but his expression encourages you to keep going. "do you think you'd know anybody who would want to explore the city with me?"
he laughs, his fingers interlocking with yours. "i think i might."
a / n : freak!ryul lowkey just dirty!ryul pissed off - also at first i didnt intend for freak and dirty to be two dif things but now they are (๑'ᵕ'๑)⸝*.
freak!ryul whos still afraid choke you even in his irritated state so he instead roughly grabs the back of your neck and basically shoves his tongue down your throat.
freak!ryul who maliciously messes with your thermostat to make your house as cold as possible and wont let you get under the covers so that your shivering while he does you ( and ensures hes in a position far from your body so he doesnt warm you ) — or he makes it hot as hell and traps you in blankets so you get all sweaty ( he licks you during and or after ).
freak!ryul who uses you pissing him off as motivation to go to the gym and work out hard — solely to get nice and sweaty so he can come home and put himself all over you.
freak!ryul who purposely slams so deep it hurts while holding a internal smile because you hurt his feelings.
freak!ryul who makes sure hes doing you so gruesomely good that your paralyzed in any position.
freak!ryul who overstimulates you as fast as possible working on every place he that stimulates pleasure at once.
freak!ryul who scoffs at every single one of your attempts to run from him.
freak!ryul who grabs your face with his free hand and forces you to look him directly in the eyes while he scolds you for whatever irritated him.
freak!ryul who strong arms you into letting him see your face in any position.
freak!ryul who licks you from your head to your toes whether youve showered or not ( when you say you havent he shrugs with a annoyed look on his face ).
Hello! I've been thinking about this, and I was wondering if you had any takes on which members would make the most noise when they reached their peak/climax or would be the most vocal? 🫣
hi anon!!
omg i luv luuuuv this thought and this question... i feel it really depends on the mood or if they are being rough but,
i feel that k is very very vocal, always praising you, cursing, "you feel so tight, you are always so ready for me" "you look so pretty" "you love this, don't you? nasty little girl", but probably would like to muffle his climax kissing you or moaning against your skin or your lips, not too loud
fuma is full fuuuull of sounds but not much words during sex, "last stretch baby, i know you can take it" "just like that" "i love how good you make me feel", he grunts a lot, quiet but rough moans if that makes sense, biiiig grunt when he cums even if he wasn't fucking you roughly
nicho is literally a bigmouth, it would be weird for him not to talk, big big moaner, he would moan or grunt with every thrust even if hes not being rough "you take me so well", lots of "fuck"s, "that's it" "gosh, you look so pretty when you ride me", not particularly a loud moan but more of a groan when he is done, yummy
ej is a whimpering man, i feel he would get shy if you hear him moan but cannot contain himself, getting all red and pretty, specially when you tease him, vocal in the way he is a beggy boy, a lot of "please, i'll be good, please" "i am a good boy", loud sobbing climax probably followed by an "i love you" every single time he finishes
yuma is only talkative when he is taking control, to give instructions, to tell you exactly what he wants and needs "thats it, baby, keep it in your mouth" "you are so needy, do you need it this much?" "come on, dont be shy, i want you drooling all over it", moan mixed with a groan, not too loud either
jo is similar to euijoo but with a mix of kei but in a shy version, lots of whimpers but lots of praises, "you are so pretty" "please don't stop", "i love your taste", rather than a big moan it would a big sob/whimper, he is sooo sensitive so the climax leaves him weak and would be sorry if he makes a big mess
harua, oh my, harua is the most silent of them all, not really talkative but he makes you know how much he is enjoying it with his touch, if he says something is really low that you can barely understand but you dont make him repeat himself, probably a "god this feels so good" , he is in his own little world enjoying the moment, quiet and shivering climax, lips parted barely making a sound
taki, big whimperer, big moaner, the most talkative even though most of the time what he is saying doesn't make any sense, he loves to say anything that crosses his mind, stutters a lot, "plea- please take it all" "let me fill you up, princess" "i- i- i- please please give me- just like- dont stop- my sweet princess", louuud moan, whimper, sob, legs trembling when he cums poor baby <3
so like imagine sir koga yudai with...dirty talk...
you can ignore if you want too
have a nice dayyyy
hi izzy!!! sorry for taking so long to get back to u omg.. i'm imagining this..i'm definitely imagining and having So Many Thoughts thank u for this.
yudai is such a chatterbox in general and this doesn't stop in bed. this man is the definition of talking you through it™ like he loves seeing the effect his words have on you, loves knowing that you could get off on his voice alone. depending on his and your mood, his dirty talk can sound very different...
praise is probably his main form of dirty talk. even during your first times together, he's already telling you how good you're making him feel, how pretty you look underneath him, how well you're doing... very soft dom coded in the sense that he'll tell you gently what to do, he'll guide your hands where he wants them, but he'll never be rough or demanding (unless you ask for it...).
"that's it, baby, just like that," yudai says breathily, back against the headboard, head thrown back and exposing his throat. his adam's apple bobs as you wrap your lips around his tip, taking a little of him in your mouth and using your hand for the part you can't reach. as you get braver and start taking more and more of him, he rests his hand on top of your head, not pushing you down, just gently guiding you, showing you the rythm he likes. he hums when you adapt to it quickly and threads his fingers through your hair, a small pressure to teach you just how he likes it. "fuck, your mouth feels so good," he says absent-mindedly, almost like he's talking to himself. "doing so well for me, baby."
this goes hand in hand with body worship. it goes without saying that when yudai loves someone, he loves every inch of them, and he’ll make sure you’re aware of that, both through his words and actions. he’ll leave trails of kisses down your body, whether feverish or soft depending on how patient he is—and how much he wants to tease you. he’ll whisper praises right against your skin in-between kisses, telling you how beautiful you are, how lucky he is to have you, how much he loves you. simply hearing these words from him already has your core squeezing around nothing, but the problem is he doesn't stop while he's fucking you, and the combined effect of his dick inside you and his words always have you coming undone for him embarrassingly quickly.
yudai's hands are warm and firm on your hips as he guides you up and down his cock. his eyes roam your body, pupils lust-blown from the sight in front of him—your tits bouncing in his face, his dick disappearing in and out of you, your head thrown back in pleasure. "you're so beautiful like this, angel. taking me so well, like you were meant for me," he coos. at his words, your moans turn whinier, your grip on his shoulders tighter. of course, he notices this immediately—and he'd be lying if he said the effect he had on you didn't get to his head a little bit. "yeah? you like it when i talk to you like that? like it when i tell you how good you're making me feel, baby?" he chuckles when you nod, but he's clearly affected, too, bucking his hips up into yours. "that's my sweet girl. always so perfect for me."
now, if he notices that you especially like it when he gets mouthy, or if you straight up tell him you'd like him to be a little rougher with his words, he wouldn't be shy about degradation. he'd mostly use it to tease you or to get you to beg for him if he was in one of his meaner moods, wanting to see just how desperate you can get for him. i don't think he'd ever take things too far, never wanting to hurt you whether through his words or actions. but it'd fascinate him how being told humiliating things would have you clinging tighter onto him, would have you clench around his fingers or dick, would have you whimpering for more.
"such a slut for this dick, aren't you? such a needy, dumb little thing. you wouldn't know what to do with yourself if i didn't give it to you like this." with the pace that yudai is thrusting into you, you don't know how he manages to keep his voice so low and steady, but your brain is too fuzzy for you to question it. his words make the string in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, but he knows you too well, know exactly when you're about to come. he slows his pace down, smirking down at you when you whine. "what's wrong, baby? this isn't good enough for you?" you shake your head, pouting. "more, yudai, please..." he hums, burying his face in your neck and pressing hot kisses there. he lifts your thighs so they're wrapped around his waist, the new, deeper angle making you gasp, but he still doesn't pick up his pace. "my baby likes to be fucked properly, doesn't she? needs me to make her come?" "yes, yudai, please." "only because you're asking so politely."
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v, unprotected sex (not for you), oral (f and m receiving), cock riding, breast play, semi public sex (car, duh), face riding (yuma), breeding kink (fuma), sub!reader (mostly), exhibitionism, VERY unsafe driving please don't do it irl you horny freaks, lmk if I missed any!
A/N: hi so I wrote some of this at 4 in the morning so pardon me if the physics of it all is off please i need to suck euijoo off SO BAD I'll actually die guys. As always, enjoy, my babies!
Word Count: 500 words each
Yudai
It was all of 30 minutes into the office party when Yudai decided he needed his secretary's pussy pulsing around him right then or he would combust and die.
His sleek black sedan waited like a sinful promise in the dark parking lot, and he wasted no time shoving you against the door, his mouth crashing onto yours. His large hands roamed, yanking at your clothes—your pretty mini skirt hiked up, his belt unbuckled with a clink. The air inside the car thickened with heat as he slid into the driver's seat, pulling you onto his lap.
You straddled him, knees digging into the leather seats, your panties shoved aside. His cock sprang free, oh so fucking thick and hard, veins pulsing under your fingers as you gripped it. Yudai's eyes locked on yours, dark with command.
"Get on, quick." You didn't need to be told twice, head already woozy from the shots of whiskey.
You lowered yourself, the head of his cock nudging your slick entrance. One slooow push, and he filled you, stretching your pussy wide as wide could be. A gasp escaped you, but you bit it back, rocking your hips to take him deeper. The car dipped slightly under your movements, windows fogging from your breaths. Yudai's hands clamped on your ass, guiding you up and down, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
You bounced on him faster bow, your tits straining against your blouse as it popped open. Yudai sucked a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing the peak while you ground against him. Each thrust sent jolts through you, his cock hitting that spot inside that made your thighs quake.
"Always so fucking tight for me." Yudai muttered, thrusting up to meet you, the slap of skin echoing in the confined space, "Dirty little baby."
Sweat beaded on his forehead, his tie askew, shirt unbuttoned to reveal the hard planes of his chest. You leaned forward, nails raking his shoulders, riding him harder. The pressure built, coiling in your core as his cock pistoned in and out, slick with your arousal. He reached between you, thumb circling your clit, rough and insistent.
You came first, walls clenching around him, a muffled cry spilling out as waves crashed over you. Yudai followed, groaning low, his cock twitching as he pumped cum deep inside, hot spurts filling you. You collapsed against him, both panting, the car reeking of sex.
"Good girl." He whispered, "Let's get back yeah?"
Well weren't you about to be fucked good in his office tonight.
Fuma
The rain pattered away against the car windows as you and Fuma escaped the family dinner, the backseat becoming your world as the words 'so when are you having kids?' became the only stuff going through both your minds.
He pulled you onto his lap, hands urgent at your spine, unzipping your dress to bare your breasts. His mouth latched onto a nipple, sucking hard while his fingers delved between your legs, finding your pussy already soaked. But could you really be blamed with a husband like Fuma?
"Gonna fill my sweet girl up so good." Fuma said, eyes fierce with possession.
He shifted, shoving his pants down, his cock thick and ready, curving up toward his abdomen. You rose on your knees, guiding him to your entrance, sinking down slowly. He stretched you, inch by beautiful fucking inch, until he bottomed out, your walls grabbing into him like a viper's fangs.
You started riding, hips rolling in a steady rhythm, the car rocking with each bounce. Fuma's hands gripped your waist, thrusting up to meet you, his cock slamming deep.
"Gonna breed this pussy so fucking full." He panted, groaning low when he felt you clamp down at his words, "Yeah? You want me to do that to you baby?" Sweat slicked your skin, your tits bouncing as you ground down, clit rubbing against his base.
He flipped you onto your back across the seat, legs over his shoulders, pounding into you relentlessly. The angle hit deep, his balls slapping your ass with every drive. You clawed at his back, moaning as your pleasure built, your pussy clenching around his pistoning length. Fuma's pace quickened, grunts filling the air, his thumb pressing your clit in firm circles.
"You can take it sweetheart, I know you can." Fuma grunted, hips snapping harder. The orgasm hit you first, waves crashing as you cried out, milking him. Fuma buried himself deep, cock throbbing as he unleashed, hot spurts flooding your womb. He stayed locked inside, grinding to push every drop deeper, kissing you fiercely.
Panting, he held you close, the car filled with your mingled scents, not pulling out—just the warmth of his seed inside, Fuma stroked your hair, whispering how perfect you were, the night young and desperate for more.
Nicholas
Going out with Nicholas never meant going out. It meant the night would always end with your sweet cunt on his face or on his dick.
Parked in the secluded overlook—the spot only you and your lover knew—the city lights twinkled below as Nicholas pulled you into the backseat.
His kisses were urgent and holy, ringed hands unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them down with your underwear. You reclined against the door, legs spread wide, pussy exposed and aching for him.
Nicholas knelt between your thighs, eyes hungry as he hooked your legs over his shoulders. "Been thinking about this all night, pretty girl." He said, voice low, before diving in, in, in.
His tongue flattened against your folds, licking a long stripe from entrance to clit. You arched, fingers threading through his hair, the car's confines amplifying every sensation.
He ate you like a demon starved of sin, lips sucking your clit gently at first, then harder, teeth nipping just enough to spark electricity. Your juices coated his chin as he delved deeper, tongue thrusting inside your pussy, fucking you with it. Your moans, reverence to his ears, bubbled up, unrestrained now, the windows steaming over.
Nicholas hummed against you, the vibration shooting straight to your core. He added his fingers—two sliding in easily, curling to hit your g-spot while his mouth worked your clit in circles. You bucked against his face, thighs clamping his head, but he held firm, devouring you.
Wet sounds filled the air, his slurping eager, tongue lapping every drop, as he pulled back briefly to blow cool air on your swollen nub, then sucked it between his lips, rolling it.
"So fucking wet for me," He murmured, before plunging back in, nose grinding against your mound, "Pussy knows who I am, yeah?"
The build was relentless—fingers pumping faster, tongue flicking mercilessly. Your hips rolled, chasing the peak, breaths hitching; Nicholas didn't let up, free hand kneading your thigh, spreading you wider. Tension snapped, orgasm ripping through you, pussy clenching around his fingers as you cried out, flooding his mouth.
He licked you through it, slowing to gentle laps, drawing out aftershocks until you trembled. Finally, he sat up, lips shiny, smirking as he kissed you, letting you taste yourself.
The car felt smaller and warmer, your body boneless against him. Nicholas wrapped you in his arms, whispering praises, the night stretching ahead to dissolve into the poetry of your lover's glorious tongue.
Euijoo
Byun Euijoo was your best friend. Byun Euijoo also had a face that was begging you to suck him off. The drive home from the late-night hangout felt charged, Euijoo's hands tight on the wheel as you sat shotgun.
A sort of tension had simmered all evening—stolen glances, accidental brushes, a brief unexpected flash of your cleavage in his face. Now, in the quiet of the car, you couldn't hold back. Sliding to your knees on the passenger floor, you tugged at his zipper, heart pounding. Euijoo's eyes widened, flicking from the road to you.
"What are you—fuck," He hissed as your hand freed his cock, already half-hard and thickening in the cool air. It bobbed heavy, the tip glistening. You wrapped your lips around it, tongue swirling the head, tasting the salt of him.
He stifled a moan, one hand gripping the wheel, the other tangling in your hair—not pushing but just holding on for dear life. The car swerved slightly as you sucked deeper, hollowing your cheeks, bobbing your head.
His cock filled your mouth, hot and rigid, pulsing against your tongue. You worked him slow at first, lips sliding down the shaft, then up, teasing the underside with flicks. The way his face contorted only made your desire to make him feel good even more.
"Shit, keep it—fuck—keep it quiet." Euijoo whispered, voice strained, glancing at passing lights. But you didn't care—humming around him, the vibration making his hips buck. Saliva dripped down your chin as you took him to the back of your throat, gagging softly but pushing on. Euijoo's breaths came ragged, his free hand clenching the door handle.
You sped up, hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach, twisting at the base. His balls tightened under your touch, and he bit his lip hard to muffle a groan. The engine's hum masked the wet sounds of your sucking, slurp slurp slurp filling the space. Precum leaked steadily, bitter on your tongue, and you swallowed around him, drawing out a choked whimper.
The traffic thinned, but Euijoo kept driving, knuckles painfully white. You grazed your teeth lightly along his length, then soothed with a deep suck, feeling him throb.
"Gonna…....Oh fucking hell," he panted, trying to stay composed. You doubled down, head moving furiously, nose brushing his pubes each time.
He came with a shudder, cock jerking as ropes of cum hit your throat. You swallowed every drop, milking him dry until he softened. Pulling off with a pop, you wiped your mouth, meeting his dazed eyes. He exhaled shakily, adjusting himself before zipping up.
"You're insane," Euijoo muttered, but a grin tugged at his lips.
Best friends fuck, right?
Yuma
Being a kindergarten teacher came with its advantages. Getting to hang out with cute kids all day, clocking off work at 1 in the afternoon, fucking your student's very attractive (and very single) dad in the parking lot.
To be fair, he started it.
Parked in the shadowy lot, Yuma lounged in the driver's seat, pulling you over the console into the back. His grin was wicked as he reclined the seat fully, tugging you by the hips.
"On my face today baby." He said, thieving hands yanking your shorts and panties off in one go.
You straddled his chest first, heart racing, then crawled up, knees on either side of his head. Yuma's hands clamped your thighs, guiding your pussy down onto his waiting mouth.
His tongue shot out immediately, licking broad strokes along your slit, tasting your wetness. You gasped, hands bracing the roof, lowering further as he sucked your folds.
"Sit your pretty ass down properly, sweetie." He mumbled against you, the vibration sending shivers up your spine. You rocked forward, grinding your clit against his nose, his tongue thrusting inside your pussy like a mini cock. He devoured you, lips sealing around your entrance, slurping noisily, fingers digging into your ass to pull you closer.
The car filled with wet smacks and your moans, windows fogging as you humped his face faster. Yuma's stubble scraped your inner thighs, adding friction, while he alternated between flicking your clit and lapping deep. Your juices coated his chin, dripping down his neck, but he didn't stop—humming his approval, encouraging your movements.
You leaned back, one hand on his chest for leverage, rolling your hips in circles. His tongue circled your hole, then plunged in, fucking you as you bounced lightly. Tension coiled tight, your thighs quivering around his head. Yuma added a finger, sliding it into your ass, pumping in time with his licks.
The pressure in your lower belly exploded, pussy pulsing as you flooded his mouth, crying out. He licked through it, swallowing greedily, until you collapsed forward trembling.
Yuma wiped his face with a smirk, pulling you down for a kiss, your sweet nectar on his lips.
"You've got time for another one, right?"
Jo
God knows the only way your tight jaw could relax after whatever today's work day was, was by stretching it around your coworker's dick.
The office lights faded in the rearview as Jo drove you home after late hours, the tension from the project lingering like static. His phone buzzed suddenly, the boss's name flashing. Jo answered, voice steady, but you were already leaning over the console, hand sliding up his thigh to his zipper.
"Yes, sir, the reports are almost done." Jo said, composure cracking as you freed his pretty cock, already thickening in your palm, beautifully veined and flushed, the head beading pre-cum. You bent low, lips just brushing the tip, tongue flicking out to lap the saltiness while he shifted in his seat.
Jo's free hand gripped the wheel, holding on for dear life as he tried hard not to whine at the sight of the pretty little thing between his legs.
"Uh, yeah, we'll finalize by morning." His words hitched as you took him into your mouth, sucking the head with a wet pop, tongue swirling around the ridge. He throbbed against your tongue, growing fully erect, filling your mouth as you bobbed deeper.
You hollowed your cheeks, sliding down his length, the car swerving slightly before he corrected. Saliva dripped down his shaft, your hand stroking what you couldn't swallow, twisting at the base. Jo cleared his throat on the call.
"No issues, just… traffic." A groan escaped, masked as a cough, as you hummed around him, vibrations making his hips buck, just traffic of course.
Deeper you went, your throat relaxing to take more, nose brushing his pubes. His balls tightened, drawn up as you fondled them gently, rolling in your fingers. The phone pressed to his ear, his breaths ragged. "Sir, I—got it, sending now." You sped up, head bobbing fast, slurping loudly, spit coating his cock and your chin.
Jo's thighs tensed, free hand tangling in your hair, not pushing but holding on. You felt him pulse, warning of release, so you sucked harder, tongue pressing the underside vein. "Meeting tomorrow? Yes, we'll be there," he managed, voice strained, before biting his lip to stifle a moan. He hung up abruptly, phone dropping as he thrust shallowly into your mouth.
"Fuck, don't you dare stop....." Jo gasped. His sweet cum erupted, thick ropes hitting your throat, you swallowing greedily around him, milking every spurt. He shuddered, cock twitching as you licked him clean, slow and thorough.
Pulling back, you wiped your mouth, grinning at his dazed expression. The car idled in front of your house, the air heavy with his musk. Jo leaned over, kissing you messily, his hand already wandering between your legs as he pulled you up.
