🧡🍊🩸

Oh this little shit. You could have pushed him away, grabbed him by his soft curls and pulled him up to take his place kneeling on the floor but to be frank you were utterly fucked out, at the point of going cross eyed by the dizzying stretch of his tongue.

You glanced down at him, curling your fingers into his hair. He was munching away at your pussy, eyes half-lidded, savouring you like you were the last thing he’d eat in his life. You could feel the wetness of his saliva all over your thighs, or maybe that was all the cum you had left from the last three orgasms. Jungwon moaned into your skin like a whore, your juices leaving his lips slick and shiny as you practically rode his face.

“Taste so good…” Your hips bucked up—cutting his words short and melting into a muffled groan. You tasted like fucking nectar; Jungwon was sure the angels couldn't find a better version of it anywhere other than between your legs.

"So much better when you're not running your mouth, hmm?" You murmured, voice barely audible over the sclick-sclick of your cunt gliding over the tip of his tongue. He continued suckling—tongue circling in clumsy circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "Feel like I'm gonna cum, Jungwon."

Jungwon stilled for a moment, cursing under his breath and harshly grabbing your free leg to throw it over his shoulder, giving him easier access. His fingers dug themselves into your skin like soft bullets, somehow making the knot at the bottom of your stomach even tighter. 

"God, pretty pussy’s sucking me in sooo good." His words came out slurred, whiny and high pitched, as they usually did when he’s pussy-drunk. The vibrations of his voice, lazy and gin-soaked, vibrated you to the core. Jungwon’s tongue flicked out, lips beginning to part widely as he sealed your cunt in one big, open-mouthed kiss. 

“Jungwon!” You gasped, fingernails digging into his shoulder as your thighs started to tremble, “Won, i—i’m gonna—” Your voice came out strangled, half plea, half moan. Every drag of him inside you had your walls fluttering helplessly, slick dripping down your thighs and onto his chin.

You shattered with a loud wail, walls clamping down so hard he hissed through his teeth. Jungwon didn’t stop, kept fucking you through it, desperate and whining for your ambrosia. His slurping became obnoxiously loud as he lapped up everything gushing out from you.

“Good lord Jungwon.” You chuckled as he sucked on the skin of your inner thigh, “You’re acting like you’ve never eaten this pussy before.” Jungwon looked up at you with rounded eyes. His hair was a mess, flushed face drenched, and dopey grin slick with your juices. 

“It’s been too damn long.” He said, slowly pushing your legs off his shoulders—as if you could walk perfectly fine after all that, “These fucking interns I swear...” 

“Like you’ve never been an intern before.” You ran a hand through your hair, attempting to fix it as Jungwon got to his feet. Your eyes lingered far too long over the outline of his broad shoulders, outlined by the tight fabric of his button-up. If you weren't already dead by now, you would have torn it off right there and then and rode him till dawn.

“Well yeah not a stupid one.” Jungwon leaned back against the bookshelf, crossing his arms, “I swear Jo has something against me.” 

“You’ve told me that fifteen times since he assigned you to them.” You rolled your eyes, shimmying into your pencil skirt, “And lest you forget,” You poked his chest, “I’m stuck with you.” 

Jungwon’s hand gravitated to the side of your hip, helping you zip up your skirt. His other hand came to rest on your upper back, subtly pulling your hips close to his. 

“I swear Jungwon, you’re gonna get a sex ban.” You pushed him away, continuing to fix your hair, “Be grateful I even let you do that to me at 6 in the evening.”

“We’re only being the best employees ever aren't we?” Jungwon smirked, his voice a purring tone, “Staying after hours, combing through all these files ourselves..” You glanced at the neatly stacked, clearly untouched tower of dusty folders behind him and stared at him with deadpan eyes. Then you both erupted into a fit of laughter.

“Someone should make us CEOs already..” You said, catching your breath, “If only Jo knew what we were doing here.” Jungwon scrunched his nose.

“Why bring that dickhead up?” He scoffed, clenching his jaw. 

“Because he’s not a dickhead.” You slowly brought your arms up to rest on his shoulders, his hands went back to caressing your waist, one of them subtly moving down to grope your ass, “Plus, he’s kinda hot.” You felt his fingers dig into your skin at that.

“So what you’re saying is—” Jungwon quirked a brow, “—you’d rather get fucked by him than me.” Before you could respond, his strong arms wrapped around you like iron bands, yanking your body flush against his. He locked you in tight—chest to chest, tits squished against his broad chest, your lips mere inches away from his.

“Suck me off?” 

“You’re definitely getting a sex ban.”

__________________________

Jo considered himself to be a good employee. 

He’d be the first one in the office, coming in at 8 a.m sharp everyday without fail. His shirt always ironed to a crisp, and his ties without a speck of dirt. No wonder he got promoted to Chief of Staff so fast—everybody knew the CEO would have left his own wife for Jo and his master plans. 

And yet as always, there was a catch.

Good employees don’t tend to fall for their company’s exec ops.

“That’s the last of it.” You handed him the obnoxiously large file, fingers briefly brushing with his, “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“No, that's alright.” Jo’s eyes softened, “Thank you so much for this.” He leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Don’t know what I would do without you Y/N.” 

“Oh yeah?” You giggled, sitting down in front of him, you rested your elbows on the glass table and leaned forward, totally not aware of your cleavage peeking through your shirt, “The great Asakura Jo needs little old me to help him?” 

Jo froze.

Don’t stare. Don’t stare. Do not stare.

His brain, unfortunately, was doing the exact opposite—replaying your laugh, overanalyzing your tone, suddenly very aware of how hot the room was. He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t notice the faint heat creeping up his neck.

“Well, some have greatness thrust upon them.” He replied, fingers toying with the file in front of him.

Quote Shakespear, great save Jo.

He risked a glance down and immediately regretted it. Meanwhile you were smiling like the world was all sunshine and rainbows, like the scent of your perfume wasn’t driving him insane. Jo’s heart thudded faster against his chest.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, though.” He managed a quick smile, adjusting his glasses, “I’d manage just fine without you.”

A blatant lie, and he knew it. You merely smiled on, resting your cheek in your hand.

“Hmm yeah totally.” Another giggle; Jo’s brain short circuited, how was a man supposed to survive?

 “Well, I better get back before Jungwon burns our office down.” You hummed, pushing yourself to your feet. He saw the slightest peek of your thighs under your skirt. Jo pressed his lips together, forcing himself to focus on the table, the files, anything that wasn’t your bare skin. 

Jungwon. 

Office.

Fire hazard. 

Normal thoughts.

……

Your tits.

“Yeah, good idea,” he said quickly, standing as well for some reason.

“See you later, Jo.” As you walked away, Jo allowed himself a one second glance at your ass before getting back to work. 

Get it together, idiot.

Meanwhile, in the office across the room—

“You’re an evil woman, Y/N.” Jungwon looked up from his papers, “Evil, evil woman.” 

“A girl can't do anything nowadays huh.” You sighed, plopping down onto your swivel chair and spinning once for emphasis. Your joint office with Jungwon was directly across Jo’s, allowing him to see all of your antics with the poor man. “Might as well burn me at the stake.” 

Jungwon snorted. “Tempting.” He glanced past you, and smirked, looking down again, “You’re being watched you know.”

“Watched?” You tilted your head innocently, eyes wavering over his dimple. 

“Management, sweetheart.” Jungwon added, shamelessly glancing down at your cleavage, “I’m afraid that pretty little skirt of yours has violated HR.” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, “And my dick unfortunately.”

“That sounds like a you problem Wonnie, not an HR one.” A smug grin spread over your face, “We can fix that at lunch.” Below the desk, your bare foot was lifting the bottom fabric of his trouser up—payback for all the almost orgasms he had made you go through two days ago in the file room.

“Evil woman.” He echoed, a grin tugging at his mouth. “I feel sorry for your future husband.” 

“Good that it won't be you then.” You leaned your chin into your palm, “Alright get to work. We better get this done by noon or I swear I’ll jump off this building.” You slipped your headphones on, scrolling through your playlists.

“Yes ma'am." Jungwon let out a low laugh, turning his attention back to his papers, as silence fell over the room.

__________________

“You with me, pretty girl?” Jungwon squeezed your right ass cheek before lifting and bringing his hand down on it harsh, hearing the smack sound through the room, “We haven’t even started baby.” 

At this point you were already fucked dumb— bent over the table, skirt hitched up to your hips and your panties shoved down to your ankles. Your mouth was agape, ungodly sounds escaping your lips as his cock drilled into your ass. You hadn't said anything for a while now, and by Jungwon’s knowledge, he simply assumed he’s not pounding you good enough. 

“W-Won….” You managed to stutter out, feeling his tip hitting the deepest, wettest parts of you, “slow dow—oh god!” Your mouth was dry and your tongue cotton, your cheek was  probably bruised too, from having been pressed against the table for so long.

Jungwon’s head dipped into the crook of your neck to suck on the skin there, one hand resting on your hip to pin you down, while his left slowly wandered to your pussy. One touch to your throbbing clit, and you were screaming. 

“So tight for me—hah—aren’t you?” His voice was dangerously low and commanding, the kind that made your lips gush. Jungwon’s hips snapped particularly harsh and a moan resounded right from the bottom of your chest, the burn sharp and immediate as he stretched you wide around his girth.

Jungwon didn't allow you even a second to adjust to him, simply pulling back and slamming forward again, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. His hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back. The pull sent sparks of pain through your scalp, mixing with the ache in your ass as he started pounding into you relentlessly. Each thrust jolted your body forward, your tits bouncing against the edge of the table.

“Won won won!” His name fell like a relentless prayer from your lips, his free hand coming down hard on your ass cheek again, “ohhhh, oh God I’m close..”

 The slap echoed in the small room, the sting blooming hot across your skin. He didn't stop—thwack, thwack, thwack—alternating cheeks with every few pumps of his hips, turning your ass red and raw. The pain fueled the heat building low in your belly, your pussy clenching emptily even as he reamed your ass.

He picked up speed again, his cock draagging against your inner walls. Your body shook, the overstimulation hitting like a wave—every nerve lit up, your ass throbbing around him, the pulls on your hair making your vision blur.

"Shit—you’re close…” He reached around, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in fast, merciless circles, “Cum for me pretty girl.” His voice was rough in your ear as he leaned over you, chest pressing against your back. It's too much—the rough drag of his cock in your ass, the burning slaps, the relentless tug on your hair, and now this direct assault on your swollen nub.

Your orgasm crashed over you, body convulsing as waves of pleasure-pain ripped through you. Your ass clenched spasmodically around his thrusting cock, milking him even as the overstimulation made tears prick your eyes. Your pussy gushed, wetness dripping down your thighs, your ass on fire, every thrust pushing you further into that hazy edge.

You bucked against him, sobbing through the climax, limbs going weak as aftershocks jolted through you. Jungwon felt you tighten, but he kept fucking you through it, drawing out the torment until you were a shaking mess.

“Jungwon…” You sigh, “Fuck that was—”

But Jungwon had other plans.

He pulled out with a wet pop, leaving you feeling empty and gaping, your hole twitching from the rough treatment. Before you could catch your breath, his hand tightened in your hair again, yanking your head back further until you were looking up at him, tears streaking your cheeks from the intensity.

Jungwon crashed his mouth down on yours, the kiss messy and desperate. His tongue forced its way past your lips, tangling with yours in a sloppy, open-mouthed exchange. He tasted like coffee and strawberries and he’s absolutely devouring you. With a huff, he broke the kiss, strings of spit connecting your lips, lust filled eyes burning into yours.

“On your knees.” Jungwon ordered, “Haven’t had that pretty mouth all week.” 

You dropped to the cool tile floor instantly, knees scraping as you settled between his legs. His cock, slick with your own juices, bobbed in front of your face—thick, veined, and still rock-hard, the head flushed red.

You looked up at him through your lashes, a mischievous spark in your eyes despite the ache in your body. Leaning in, you flicked your tongue out, tracing juust the tip lightly, swirling around the slit without taking him in. His thighs tensed, a low tch escaping him, but you kept nipping gently at the base before pulling back with an innocent smile.

“That's enough games.” Jungwon snapped, voice edged with frustration. His fist tightened in your hair, pulling sharply until your scalp stung and your mouth hovered inches from his cock. “Suck it properly, or you won’t get cock for the entire week.” 

You knew that threat held no actual water, but you parted your lips anyway. He tugged again—harder this time, roots protesting as he guided you onto him. His cock slid over your tongue, filling your mouth with his salty taste. 

As always, Jungwon refused to give you time to adjust to him, thrusting shallowly to push deeper, the head bumping the back of your throat. You gagged a little, eyes watering, but hollowed your cheeks and started sucking in earnest, tongue pressing flat against the underside as you bobbed your head. A guttural groan erupts from his throat, hand still fisted in your hair, controlling the pace.

 “Gooood girl.” The grip Jungwon had on your hair made your head throb at every whine and groan he let out. You always knew just how to ease the tension in his shoulders, make him absolutely fall apart for you. “Take it all like my good little slut.” 

Perhaps the stars had aligned in all the wrong places today, perhaps a butterfly flapped its wings or perhaps you two were especially horny today, but you didn't bother to close the door properly—a thin crack at the hinge allowing a sliver of view from the hallway outside. 

Asakura Jo considered himself to be a good employee. 

But good employees certainly didn't have their eyes locked onto their exec ops’ tits as she sucked off her coworker.

At 6 am in the evening, Jo hadn't expected anyone to still be in the office. He’d come looking for some files in the ancient printer room—where he never usually went, preferring to send his assistant. Jo stood there, frozen at first, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he caught sight of the scene. He was transfixed, heart pounding in his chest, as shock, and something more scandalous, took over him like a wave.

Watching you on your knees, sucking cock so eagerly, a rush of heat surged through him. His slacks tightened uncomfortably, his cock hardening instantly at the erotic display. A sort of raw desire pooled within him; he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be peeking, but he just couldn't tear himself away.

Jo's gaze locked onto your exposed body, the way your shirt hung open, your breasts swaying with each movement of your head. He'd always fantasized about those tits, imagining burying his face between them during late-night meetings when you'd lean over his desk, to sweetly guide him about office policy and whatnot. 

Glancing around the empty hallway to ensure privacy, Jo's hand trembled as he unzipped his fly, going red upon seeing his aching erection. It was stiff and leaking pre-cum already, the tip flushed from the sight of your face, eyes closed, head bobbing, your tongue occasionally flicking out. What Jo would do to be in Jungwon’s position.

He wrapped his fingers around the length, stroking slowly at first, matching the rhythm of your bobbing head. His breath fogged up his glasses, the lenses clouding with each heavy exhale as sweat beads on his forehead. The steam from his arousal made everything blur, but he quickly removed his glasses, desperate to keep watching.

“F-Fuck Y/N….” He gasped softly.

In his mind, it's him you were servicing—your pretty lips stretched around his cock, those beautiful eyes looking up at him with a cheeky gaze as you teased the head with your tongue. He imagined pulling your hair himself, guiding you down until you gagged on him, your tits bouncing with the motion.

 A low, muffled groan escaped his throat, stifled by his clenched teeth, as he pumped his fist faster. The risk of getting caught only heightened his pleasure, his balls tightening with the building pressure. Jo leaned closer to the door crack, the wood cool against his shoulder, lost in the fantasy of claiming you right there, your mouth hot and wet around him while Jungwon watched helplessly.

Sounds of your gags came to a pause as you pulled off for a breath of fresh air. The string of spit that connected you with his dick was soon to be broken when you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the pulsing head of his cock. 

“Where do you want to cum, Won? On my tits?” Lidded eyes, both outside and inside the room, stared at the way your tongue traveled along the prominent veins, “Hmmm, how about my mouth?” 

Pushing your shirt fully off your shoulders, the lace wrapped around your chest leaves little to the imagination. A satisfied smirk tugs on Jungwon’s mouth.

Your throat tightened around Jungwon's cock as he thrusted deeper, the head bumping against the back of your mouth with insistent force. 

“Ah fuck…..pretty girl suckin’ me off like its her job.” He rasped, his fingers pulling until your scalp stung deliciously, "Swallow it, go on.” The burn fueled your own heat, your pussy clenching emptily as you hummed around him, vibrations drawing a sharp hiss from his lips, “All of it.”

Outside the door, Jo's strokes quickened as well, fist gliding over his slick length with desperate urgency. The sight of you—lips puffed and red, cheeks hollowed as you took Jungwon's cock—pushed him closer. 

The image burned into his mind: your tits heaving with each breath, nipples hard against the cool air; he bit his lip hard to muffle the groan building in his chest, pre-cum beading at his tip and smearing over his knuckles. 

“Gonna fill this pretty mouth.” He warned through gritted teeth, his free hand slamming against the desk for support as he drove in one last time. You felt him swell, pulse hot and heavy on your tongue, and then he erupted—thick ropes of cum flooding your mouth, salty and thick, coating your throat as you swallowed greedily around him. The force of it made you cough lightly, but you held on, milking every spurt with flicks of your tongue.

At the exact same moment, Jo shattered as well. His hand blurred over his cock, a choked gasp escaping as orgasm ripped through him. Cum spurted onto the hallway floor in messy arcs, his knees buckling slightly while he gripped the doorframe for stability. 

Waves of pleasure crashed over him, intensified by the taboo of it all—watching you swallow another man's load, your eyes watering but locked on Jungwon's face in submission. It's the hottest thing he'd ever seen, his crush on you twisting into something filthy and obsessive. He pumped through the aftershocks, wringing out every drop until his cock twitched soft in his palm.

“Look so pretty like this….” Jungwon’s eyes were hooded, utterly drunk on your mouth, “my pretty girl.”

You pulled off Jungwon's cock with a wet pop, strings of saliva and cum connecting your lips to the glistening tip. “Your pretty girl?” Licking your mouth clean, you rose on shaky legs, "Wasn't aware we were a thing.” 

Jungwon watched you with a satisfied smirk, tucking himself away as you fumbled for your clothes. As you straightened your hair, Jungwon's eyes flicked to the door. Through the narrow crack, he caught a glimpse.

Oh?

This was interesting.

Jungwon was the first one to notice the earth shattering crush Jo had on you. Normally, it should have made him jealous and full of possessive rage, but he was just…faintly amused. It was fun to see you tease Jo too, always unbuttoning at least two buttons before you went into his office.

And there the man of the hour was right outside the printer room, hastily zipping up, face flushed crimson behind smeared glasses. Jungwon's lips curled into a knowing grin, but he said nothing, filing the secret away like a loaded gun. Whatever leverage this gave him, he'd use it later—maybe to pull you into something even riskier.

For now, however, he merely adjusted his tie and moved on, shaking his head when you asked him why he was smiling like a bastard. 

“Better get back before Jo notices.” Jungwon whistled, as you smoothed your skirt, “Say, do you still think he’s hot?”

You turned your head slowly to him, closing your eyes for a second and inhaling deeply. “Why do you ask my sweet Jungwon?” 

“No reason.” He replied briefly, “Just….thoughts.”

____________________

Jo was a shy man. Confident as hell when he was presenting monthly figures, but a red mess when the CEO asked him how his day had been. He was a human oxymoron—and that’s what piqued your curiosity.

Sure he was respectful and all that bullshit, but by god was he the hottest human being to ever grace your earth. If he wasn’t so damn shy, if his ears didn’t go turnip red everytime you told him you liked his tie, you would have made that man fuck you stupid in the middle of the meeting room, out in the open for everybody to see.

Those long, slender fingers of his, you'd often find yourself staring at them during meetings, imagining what they'd feel like gliding over your skin. The way he held a pen, with such finesse and control, made you wonder how skilled those hands would be in more…..intimate areas. 

As the head of marketing, you were used to getting what you wanted when you wanted it—the amazing things power can do. 

And what you wanted right now was Jo, sprawled out naked on the armchair in his office, those gorgeous blushes spreading across every inch of his body as you rode him till both your brains were completely fucked out. You knew it wouldn't take much to make him crack, to turn that bashful stutter into a symphony of moans.

And ever since you made Jungwon spill the truth about him three days after your little encounter (“I swear I was going to tell you when the time came.” “Hopefully it would have been before I died.”), you had decided that you’d waited long enough. It was time to make your fantasy a reality, to show Jo just how much you would have loved his mouth on your tits.

As you sauntered into Jo’s office, you made sure to arch your back just right as you bent to pick up a pen, accentuating all the right parts of your body in a way that would make anyone weak in the knees. You caught him sneaking a glance at your chest, as you leaned against his desk.

“It's 7 in the evening.” You said crossing your arms, “What are you doing working all alone, handsome?” His ears turned an even deeper shade of red.

“I could say the same for you.” Jo leaned back in his chair, you watched his adam’s apple bob a bit, “You usually go by 5 don't you?” 

“You noticed?” You did a little faux gasp, “I just had some extra stuff to do today, with Jungwon not coming in today.” You scoffed, “Little shit cancelled on me last minute because of some cactus convention.” You rolled your shoulders back, “I’m a walking corpse at this point.”

“You have me there.” Jo said, rubbing his stiff shoulders, “I’m firing the person who scheduled back-to-back meetings for me all day today.” You watched his large hand rub over his muscles, that pressed against his tight (slutty) shirt.

Well, well, well.

“Poor you.” You purred, walking around to stand behind his chair, “Let me help you with that.”

Without waiting for a response, you started to massage his shoulders, feeling the tension melt away under your skilled fingers. Jo let out a low groan, his head lolling forward as you worked out the kinks in his muscles.

Internally though, all that was going on in his mind was abort, abort, system failure, ABORT.

Your hands were pure magic against his stiff shoulders, somehow taking away all the stress and the stupid reviews and resolutions and what not, with a flick of your wrist. Jo’s mind wandered to distant places, imagining where else those beautiful hands could come in use.

Jo glanced down and a very obvious boner greeted him, straining against the fabric of his pants as if to say ‘Hey there you horny bastard! Why don’t you take care of me already?’

“You know you don’t— you really don’t have to—” Jo started, but your thumbs pressed into a tight knot near his neck and the rest of the sentence dissolved into a very undignified exhale. He cleared his throat immediately afterward, as if that would erase the sound.

You bit your lip to suppress a grin, knowing that you're the one who's caused the tent in his pants. But you pretended not to notice, continuing to knead his shoulders as if nothing was out of the ordinary. 

"Does that feel good, Jo?" You asked innocently.

"Y-Yeah," He stammers, his voice husky with desire. "That feels really good."

“You know I give really good massages."  You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Everybody says so.”

“Oh yeah?” Jo hummed. His brain was no longer cooperating. Every nerve seemed hyper-aware of exactly where your hands were, how close you were standing, the faint brush of your sleeve when you shifted.

“I can show you.” You said sweetly, “You’re coming to the party tomorrow right?” You watched his ears turn an even deeper shade of red and stood back up straight, letting your hand linger on his upper back for a second.

“Hadn’t really thought about it.” Jo fidgeted in his chair, eyes darting between your face and your chest, “But I suppose I could swing by for a bit.” 

“Great!” You giggled, putting your hands down on the table, juust right so he could see your chest properly, “See you there, handsome.”

“Y-Yeah.” Jo said in a quiet voice, as you made your way out, grinning to yourself. 

Jo remained fully frozen in his seat for a full three minutes, watching you gather your things, swing your handbag over your shoulder and exit the office. He leaned back in his chair and watched the main hall’s lights being turned off. Only the warm golden light of his office remained shining in the dark, like some beacon that reminded him he wouldn't be locked up in here tomorrow. 

His heart hammered in his chest as something hot and nauseating flushed his body. A vivid memory, seared into his brain came up—your mouth working cock, tits bouncing, the way you'd look doing it to him. Tonight, alone in his apartment, he'd replay it on loop—hand wrapped around his dick again, stroking to the fantasy of bending you over his desk, claiming those perfect breasts while you beg for more. 

Jo closed his eyes briefly, and sighed.

How was he supposed to survive tomorrow?

___________________

Jungwon was bored.

It had been all of fifteen minutes into the office party and he was utterly bored. You had texted him earlier, telling him you’d be running late. He brushed it off—after all, it wasn't like you two were getting any action tonight.

The party buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses of champagne, but he could barely focus on the chatter around him. All his focus was on one person tonight.

Asakura Jo.

He rarely ever came to these things, so him standing in the corner, brooding over his glass of sparkling liquor was an odd sight. But Jungwon could make an easy guess. You did sound way too excited yesterday when you were getting takeout with him, yapping away about all that you’d done to your poor boss. 

Evil, evil woman, Jungwon thought, sipping his champagne.

Jo was still in the same corner, nursing what was probably his second drink — not that he looked like the type to lose control. He stood straight-backed, tie slightly loosened, expression carefully composed in that way that screamed get me out of here.

Jungwon gave it exactly three more minutes before deciding he’d suffered enough. He adjusted his cuff and sauntered over.

“Didn’t know this place had a statue exhibit,” He said casually. “You’ve been standing in this exact spot since I got here.”

“I’m observing.” Jo shot back, “Some of us prefer the quiet.”

“At a party?”

“At this party.”

“Speaking of which—” Jungwon smirked, “—why are you here? You never come to these things.”

There it was—the faintest tightening of Jo’s jaw. Bingo.

“I was invited.” Jo replied, voice infuriatingly calm, “Can’t refuse that now can I?”

“You’ve rejected my invitation to get a drink….lets see now…six entire times.” Jungwon’s eyes crinkled into crescent moons as he smiled sweetly, “But then again, nobody can refuse our sweet girl.” 

Jo’s sharp eyes flicked toward him. “I don’t know what you’re implying.”

“Sure you do.”

The music shifted into something louder, bass heavier, and a group near the center of the room erupted into cheers. Jo didn’t glance their way, instead staring straight ahead at a plant like it held the universe’s secrets. There was no way he could have seen right?

“You know she was very excited about tonight.” Jungwon swirled his champagne.

“She seems to enjoy social events.” Jo exhaled through his nose, leaning his head back against the wall. 

“Oh trust me, it’s not the event she was excited about.”

Jo’s fingers tightened slightly around his glass before he caught himself. “Jungwon, are you perhaps attempting to—”

“I’m not attempting anything.” Jungwon’s grin widened. “I’m just saying, she was practically glowing yesterday.”

Jo didn't answer immediately, adjusting his glasses instead—a subtle tell Jungwon had learned to observe over months of observation. 

Jo didn’t answer immediately.

“She’s…..zestful.” Jo said at last.

“Zestful,” Jungwon echoed, unable to hide the absolute delight in his voice. “Is that the official term?”

“Is there a reason you’re bringing her up?” Jo asked, narrowing his gaze. 

“Can’t I talk about my coworker now?”

“You rarely do.” Jo chuckled coldly. “If anything, I’ve only ever heard you talk about work and cactuses.” Before Jungwon could fire back however, his gaze drifted over to the door. 

Bingo. 

“Speak of the devil.” He chuckled, nudging Jo’s shoulder. Jo followed his gaze over to the door, and felt the earth stop spinning on its axis.

A dangerously low-cut black dress hugging your body perfectly, the deep V plunging between your boobs, a thigh high slit revealing flashes of skin with every single step. If there really was a heaven on earth, Jo thought he’d found it.

Jungwon watched Jo’s system crash happen in real time. The stillness, the widening of Jo’s eyes before he masked it, the way his posture straightened unconsciously, the way his fingers tightened on his glass, probably tight enough to break the fragile crystal.

“She’s here.” Jungwon said, helpfully.

“I can see that.” There was a slight waver in his usually composed tone of voice. But he couldn't bear to look away. You laughed at something someone near the door said, then began weaving through the crowd. You hadn’t spotted them yet. Or maybe you had.

Whatever it was, his brain was no longer functioning at optimal speed. Every detail seemed magnified — the way you carried yourself, the faint sparkle at your wrist when you moved. The party had already overwhelmed him and you were only making it worse—the sight of your cleavage straining against the fabric, the way the dress clung to your hips, it all stirred something feral.

Jo became suddenly, painfully aware of himself. Was his tie straight? Did he look good standing here? Should he have worn something different? Why had he agreed to this again?

Jungwon leaned closer. “You don’t look too good, boss.”

“I’m fine.”

“Maybe don’t break your glass first and I’ll believe you.” Jo forced his grip to relax, at Jungwon’s words, praying to whatever God was listening that his inner thoughts weren't visible anywhere on his body.

Across the room, your eyes finally landed on them. You smiled and the only image Jo’s brain cells were giving him was that of you on your knees, lips stretched around cock, saliva dripping down your chin and you bobbed your head eagerly. Jo tightened his jaw and forced a sip down.

“You’re staring, boss.” Jungwon chuckled. This was the best day of his life.

Jo blinked slowly and dragged his gaze away with visible effort. “I am not.”

“Sure.” Jungwon hummed, watching you walk across the room to them. You really weren't kidding when you told him you’d be wearing your battle armor for this party. 

When you finally reached them, you tilted your head slightly and smiled at Jo, making his pulse behave in highly unprofessional ways.

“Well,” You said lightly, “look who actually showed up.”

“Management decided to bless us with his presence.” Jungwon slid in smoothly. Jo shot him a look. You turned your attention fully to the tall man then — eyes scanning him up and down. Fuck, he looked like a five course meal, dessert included.

“Well, I’m glad you came.” You said, taking the glass Jungwon handed to you.

Simple words, but Jo’s brain treated them like a full system overload.

“Of course,” He replied, voice steadier than he felt. “I said I might.”

“And you did.” Your smile sharpened slightly. “I’m impressed.” Jungwon looked between the two of you like he was watching live entertainment.

“I’m going to get another drink.” He announced, “You two catch up on…..whatever you two talk about.”

“Jungwon—” Jo started. But Jungwon was already gone, leaving Jo alone with you and the hum of the party.

And the faint, dangerous tilt of your smile.

“You look nervous,” You observed gently, “But parties aren't really your vibe are they?” 

“I’m not nervous.” Jo replied automatically, chuckling at your raised brow, “I just prefer quieter environments." 

“So,” You nodded thoughtfully, stepping a little closer so you wouldn’t have to raise your voice over the music, “not this.”

God, your perfume smelled sooo good.

A group nearby burst into laughter, the bass vibrating faintly through the floor. Colored lights flickered across the room, catching briefly in your hair, along the line of your jaw. Jo’s attention drifted down for half a second before he dragged it back up to your eyes.

Focus, idiot..

“You don’t seem uncomfortable.” He added, knowing silence would only be more dangerous for his situation.

“I’m not.” You smiled easily. “I like stuff like this. Helps me loosen up a bit.”

“And do you?” He asked before he could stop himself, “Intend to loosen up tonight, I mean.”

“Mayybe.” You giggled into your drink., which was not helpful.

Jo cleared his throat. “You mentioned this party as though it were… significant.”

“Oh?” You cocked your head to the side. “Did I?”

“You seemed invested in my attendance.”

“I was.” You admitted plainly. “Because you never come to these things. And I was curious.” You took a slow sip of your drink, your gaze never leaving his.

“Curious about what?” 

“How you’d act outside the office.” Jo felt that land somewhere in his chest, the alluring scent of your perfume filling his senses to the brim.

“And your conclusion is?” He asked.

“And,” You stepped a fraction closer again, close enough so he would be forced to look at your cleavage, God bless his towering height, “I think I’m still figuring that out.”

Jo’s heartbeat was no longer cooperating. He became acutely aware of where his hands were, how stiff his posture looked, whether he seemed ridiculous standing this straight at a party where everyone else had long since relaxed.

“I behave the same.” He said carefully.

“Do you?” Your gaze dropped briefly, lingering somewhere very inappropriate then going back to his face, “I think I might need proof.” You laughed, bright and unfiltered, and that was Jo’s curtain call.

“Excuse me.” He said suddenly, stepping back before you could fully draw him in “I think I need some air.”

Without waiting for you to question it further, he turned and navigated through the crowd with brisk efficiency, ignoring the knowing look Jungwon shot him from across the room.

The hallway outside the office space was blissfully quiet. Jo walked straight past the break room, past the conference area, and into his office. He shut the door behind him and leaned back against it, breathing in deeply and exhaling. 

Could he get more pathetic?

Jo pushed off the door and crossed to his desk, sinking into his leather chair, loosening his tie, his hand drifting to the growing bulge in his slacks as he pictured your mouth on him, just like it had been on Jungwon. He rolled his shoulders once, as if to physically shake off the tension.

The image of you standing there, replayed in his mind with irritating clarity. The way you’d said you were curious about him and the way you’d looked at him like he was something to figure out. Your exposed neck, practically begging for his teeth, his lips—marks to claim what he was craving like a starved animal. 

“Get it together.” Jo muttered under his breath, taking his glasses off and massaging his temple with his fingers.

This was a party, a simple social gathering and he was an adult. He could (should) handle being around a woman without internally combusting. He thought about the beautiful flesh of your thigh peeking out from the slit and something in his chest tightened. 

A soft knock sounded at his door.

“Jooooo.” A voice drifted through the wood, “I know you’re in here.” 

“What do you want Jungwon.” Jo sighed, closing his eyes. He was definitely not in the right mindset to deal with Jungwon’s bullshit without impaling him in the chest right now.

The door opened, and Jungwon sauntered in, still holding a drink from the party. He closed the door softly, leaning against it with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Rough night, boss?” Jungwon asked, his voice laced with amusement. Jo straightened, trying to compose himself, but Jungwon's eyes flicked momentarily to the very obvious tent in Jo's pants. 

“You know Y/N’s missing you out there.” Jungwon sighed dramatically, “Poor girl, you don't want to disappoint her do you?” 

“If you’re trying to insinuate that I like her in some way—” Jo glared up at him, “—I must tell you that it's highly unprofessional." 

“Unprofessional?” Jungwon burst out laughing, “What’s unprofessional is the way you were staring at her, boss.” He slowly moved to the armchair and coffee table in the corner of the room facing Jo, plopping down on it as if he owned the space, “I don’t blame you though. That dress is really something.” He titled his head back, letting it rest on the plush headrest, “But you know what really gets me? The way she sucks cock. Like, fucking pro-level.” He barked a cocky laugh, “She takes every damn inch till she's gagging, and she still has the audacity to beg for more. Oh don't even get me started on that pretty little tongue.” Jungwon's words hung in the air, bragging without shame, painting vivid pictures that made Jo's face flush. 

“Jungwon what the hell are you—”

“Relax boss.” Jungwon cut him off with a harsh chuckle, “You saw us in the printer room, didn't you? Jerking off like a perv. Don’t deny it.” Jo's words died on his lips.

They say fate has its mysterious ways—sometimes using its power to make a butterfly flap its wings, make a tornado destroy towns and other sorts of mischief. Whatever fate did, Jo was cursing it out in his mind in every language he knew, when the door opened and the cause of all his mental strain stepped in. 

Your heels clicked on the hardwood floor, the scent of your perfume trailing behind you as you turned the lock of the door with a decisive click, the sound echoing in the tense silence. 

Your eyes locked onto Jo’s, seductive smile curving your glossy lips as you approached his desk. Jungwon watched from his place, settling into the armchair with his legs spread. You didn't spare him a glance yet, your focus locked in on Jo, and the way his chest rose and fell rapidly, hands gripping the armrests.

You sauntered towards Jo's desk, hips swaying with each step. You could see the way his eyes widened as you approached, his dark gaze roaming over your body appreciatively. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of power, knowing that you had such an effect on him.

"And what are the both of you doing in here?" You asked, batting your eyelashes innocently. You made sure to lean against the desk so that Jo had a perfect view of the front of your dress.

Jungwon let out a harsh bark of laughter from his perch on the armchair. "Oh, Jo and I were just talking about you." He said, tone dripping with innuendo. "He was really….…admiring you."

You glanced over at Jungwon, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Is that so?" You purred, turning your attention back to Jo. "And what exactly was he admiring, hmm?"

You could see the way Jo was struggling to maintain his composure, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. You decided to take pity on him, striding around the desk and perching yourself on the edge of it in front of him. You slowly took his hand in yours and placed it on your exposed thigh. 

“Go on Jo.” You trailed a finger down his chest, “Tell me what you were admiring about me.”

Jungwon chuckled from the corner, leaning forward in his seat. “I don’t think he can do that with you so close, baby.”

“Oh my.” You gasped, “Well then, how about this?” You slid off the table, placing your hands on Jo’s broad shoulders as you lowered yourself slowly onto his lap, feeling his hardness press against your panties through his pants, “You think you can tell me now?”

Jo’s gaze raked over you, dark and hungry—something you’ve never seen before, but by god was it the hottest thing ever. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

“You know, this is not very professional.” He mumbled, voice low as ever, “But you did offer to give me a massage.” His breath hitched as he felt your hands roam low, brushing over his abs, “May I take you up on that offer, sweetheart?”

“Hmm.” You hummed sweetly, “You do look tense right.” You leaned in so that your breath ghosted his ears. The fabric of your dress rode up as you settled onto him more comfortably. Jo's hands hesitated at your hips, but they eventually rested there when you gave an experimental roll of your hips.

Jungwon, meanwhile, leaned back in the armchair, his hand already palming himself through his pants. 

“Go on Jo. You want her, don’t you?” Jungwon drawled lazily, “Undo that zipper at the back. Slowly.” 

Jo's fingers trembled slightly as they found the pull, sliding it down painfully tardy, the sound of the zipper teeth parting filling the room. The dress loosened, and you shrugged it off your shoulders, letting it pool at your waist, revealing the black lace lingerie beneath—a bra that barely contained your breasts, the sheer cups leaving your nipples visible and hardening in the cool air, matching panties that hugged your ass and pussy like a second skin.

Jo’s sharp eyes lingered on the way your soaked panties clung to your folds, the fabric translucent from how wet you were. In a moment of confidence, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and yanked them down your legs in one swift motion, tossing them aside. 

"Is this what you've been dreaming about, Jo?" You enticed him, grinding against him teasingly. "Having me sit on your lap?” 

“And if I said yes?” Jo breathed slowly, feeling his pants stain with your wetness.

You grinded against Jo's lap, feeling his cock throb beneath you, and reached for his belt. 

“Let me take care of you.” You whispered, unbuckling it with deft fingers, then popping the button of his slacks and tugging the zipper down, freeing his rock hard cock from its confines. You shoved his pants and boxers to his thighs; he was surprisingly big, cock thick and veined all over, the pretty head already leaking pre-cum; you ran your tongue over your lips at the sight of it. Jo groaned, his head falling back, but he didn't take control, choosing instead to wait with pleading eyes.

“You’re so pretty, Jo.” You giggled, palming his cock, “Bet this pretty cock gets hard when you think of me, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah.” Jo shuddered against you, letting himself melt into your beautiful touch. All his senses knew were you, the shape of you, the scent of you, the feeling of your pussy on him—everything was just you, you, you. 

“You ready for me, baby?” You asked, tone innocent as a lamb. 

Jo's breath caught in his throat as you wrapped your hand around his thick, pulsing cock. He let out a low moan, his hips bucking involuntarily into your touch.

“Always.” 

You shivered at his words, feeling your own arousal growing. You gave his cock a firm stroke from base to tip, smearing the pre-cum that had gathered at the head.

Without hesitation, you lifted and positioned yourself above him, sinking down onto his cock. You both moaned at the sensation, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. Inch by inch, you teased him, lifting and lowering in shallow movements, clenching your pussy around the tip before taking more.

The pain peaked, a deep, burning stretch that made you cry out, but then it ebbed slightly, morphing into a profound pressure, your walls molding to his shape.

His cock pulsed inside you, hot and insistent, and you felt every ridge, every throb as he held still, letting your pussy flutter and stretch around him. 

“Fuck—you’re so big Jo.” You let out a breathy chuckle, making him whimper softly, his hips twitching but not thrusting up—letting you set the pace. Ever the gentleman, you thought. He stilled completely at your praise, buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathing hard.

"Oh fuckkkk" Jo groaned, his head falling back against the chair as you started to rock your hips. "F-Feel so good…." His left hand made its way to your breast, kneading and squeezing it through the thin lace as you continued to ride him without any mercy. 

“Oh!” You moaned loudly, feeling his large hand touch you so wonderfully, “Jo, don’t stop please…” His hands explored your body, gripping your hips as he thrusted up into you, his cock stretching you deliciously with every push.

"Fuck, you feel so gooood.” His words came out loud and slurred, his face contorted in ecstasy. "So warm…."

"That's right, baby," You grinned, rolling your hips in a sensual rhythm. "Be a good boy and take what you want.”

Jo couldn't help but let his head fall back, eyes shut close as your pussy clamped down on him when he hit a particularly sensitive spot on you, loud groans and whines ripping from his chest. You never expected him to be this loud, his voice masking the music from the party outside. Well now, you had to fix that right?

“Shh pretty baby.” You cooed, reaching back to unclasp your bra letting your breasts fall free in front of his flushed face, “You gotta be quiet.”

But Jo, lost in the throes of passion, unable to control himself. "I can't help it," He whined, his hips bucking up into you. "It feels too good."

You grabbed his hair, yanking his head back and forcing him to look at you. "If you can't keep quiet, I'll have to find something to keep that mouth busy then." You said, before pressing your breast against his lips.

Jo’s mouth found your tit almost desperately, his lips latching onto one nipple, tongue flicking over the stiff peak, swirling and lapping before he sucked it deep into his mouth, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You grinded down onto him harder, feeling his cock twitch inside you as he moaned against your chest.

"That's it," You purred, rocking my hips in time with his thrusts. "Keep sucking just like that." Marks bloomed under his attention—reddened skin from his eager bites, his teeth grazing just enough to sting pleasurably, "Good boy, Jo.” 

He switched to the other breast, lavishing it with the same hunger, his hands finally gripping your waist but only to steady himself, not to guide. You rode him languidly, pussy stretching around his length, juices coating him as you teased, rising until just the head was inside before sinking back down fully, grinding your clit against his base. You could feel your orgasm approaching fast, your body tensing as you chased that sweet release.

In the corner, Jungwon had freed his own cock, stroking it with firm, deliberate pumps. His fist twisted over the head, slick with his pre-cum, eyes fixed on your back and your ass, bouncing with every up and down movement. His cock, unbelievably hard, twitched in his hand as he panted silently, mind going through every position the three of you could hit.

"Oh god," Jo groaned. "I'm going to cum."

“Beg for it.” You picked up the pace slightly, bouncing on Jo's cock, ass slapping against his thighs, but still teasing—edging him closer without letting him tip over, “Beg for it like a good boy.”

“Please….” He murmured against my skin, voice breaking, so unlike his usual authority, "Please please please I’ll be your good boy—fuckkk.” Jo's sucks grew frantic, leaving hickeys across the swells of your breasts, up to your neck. His teeth sank into the soft flesh below your ear, sucking a bruise that would linger, his tongue soothing the spot before biting again.

"Cum for me." You demanded, your voice high and breathy. 

With a final thrust, Jo let out a guttural moan, his cock pulsing inside you as he spilled himself deep within your core. The feeling of his warm release sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing over you in waves as you cried out in ecstasy.

Jo buried his face in your chest as you threw your head back, panting hard. You collapsed against him, both of you sweaty as you came down from your high. You could  feel Jo's softening cock still nestled inside you, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his dazed expression.

“That’s enough.” A sharp voice rang through the room, “My turn sweetheart, get over here.” You turned your head back to see Jungwon with his legs spread wiiide open, sitting languidly on the armchair and patting his thigh.

As Jo still basked in the afterglow of your session, you pulled off of his lap with a wet pop, feeling his cum dribble out of your well-fucked pussy and down your thigh. Jo let out a whimper but didn't protest, those pretty eyes of his glazed over, his cock slick and twitching in the air. 

You sauntered over to Jungwon, your hips swaying seductively, and dropped onto his thigh, straddling his leg, the rough fabric of his pants pressed against you, lips parting around the muscle as you settled.

"You like his cock better than mine, don't you?" Jungwon smirked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. "My pretty little slut. Couldn't be satisfied with just one cock could you?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, enjoying the way Jungwon's grip on your hair tightened. He forced you down onto his thigh as he guided you into a slow, torturous pace. He flexed his thigh, pressing up into your clit, and you began to rock, forward and back, the friction building heat fast.

Jungwon chuckled darkly, his hand snaking down to grab your ass, fingers sinking into the flesh hard enough to leave imprints. "Fuck, you're so wet already, so desperate for another round. Such a greedy little slut."

You let out a frustrated whimper, desperately trying to grind down on his thigh to get some much-needed friction. Jungwon thrust his thigh up rhythmically, making you chase the pressure, your breasts bouncing with each roll of my hips. 

"Tell me who's cock you like better," Jungwon said, slapping your ass hard enough to sting. "Tell me, or I'll stop altogether."

He began to thrust his leg into you, firm muscle grinding against your clit with each upward push. The sensation was almost too much, the intense stimulation sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Jungwon maintained a steady rhythm, his eyes locked onto yours as he used you for his pleasure.

Well wouldn't this be fun?

“Jo.” You laughed breathily, trying not to moan, “I liked Jo’s cock better—fuck—Jungwon.” You watched as his eyes darkened, “He fills me up sooo good Wonnie, I love love love his cock so much, it’s like—” 

But before you could go any further, Jungwon’s fingers were digging into your hips as he pulled you off of him completely. He dragged you over to Jo’s chair and forced you down onto your knees in front of him.

Jo sat there, pants still bunched around his ankles, his thick cock standing rigid and veined, the tip flushed and weeping pre-cum from the teasing ride you'd given him moments ago. Jo's breath hitched, his hands gripping the armrests, eyes watching you with a mix of hunger and uncertainty, as you gripped his thighs with your hands. 

Jungwon positioned himself behind you, dropping to his knees on the floor. His hands gripped your hips, yanking his pants and boxers down. The cool office air hit your slick folds all of a sudden, making you shiver, but then his cock nudged against your entrance, thick and insistent, and you whimpered.

“You’re gonna suck Jo off while I fuck you like a good little slut.” Jungwon nibbled at your ear, darting his gaze to Jo, “Isn’t she so pretty on her knees?” 

You looked up at Jo with pleading eyes as Jungwon's cock nudged at your entrance from behind, your hands gripping his thighs. Jo's gaze was intense now, his pupils dilated with lust as he took in the sight of you on your knees in front of him, completely under Jungwon's control.

“She is.” He chuckled, tone so unlike him, “She’s got such a pretty mouth.” His voice dripped with a lazy sort of dominance that made your pussy clench around nothing, “Bet all she wants to do is suck this cock like a good girl.”

You nodded frantically, your tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock, catching the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there. He groaned, his head tipping back against the chair, fingers twitching but not touching you yet.

Jo smirked, his hand coming up to grip your chin. "Such a good girl," He purred, pushing his thumb into your mouth. "Letting us use you like our own personal fuck toy. I bet you loooove having both of our cocks inside you at once, don't you pretty girl?"

You moaned around his thumb, as Jungwon thrust into you from behind with one sharp push, burying himself to the hilt, your walls clenching around him as he filled you completely without any warning. You let out a strangled cry around Jo’s thumb which he slid out of your mouth and replaced it with his thick cock pushing into your throat. Inch by inch, you slid down, your mouth stretching around his girth, tongue pressing flat against the vein that pulsed hotly. 

"Fuck, you're so tight," Jungwon groaned, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "You feel her?” 

"God she’s so beautiful," Jo laughed darkly, pulling your hair to angle your head back so he could look into your eyes. "Chokin’ on me like this, fuckkkk—she’s perfect."

Jungwon set a brutal pace from the start, his pelvis slapping against your ass with each drive, his balls tapping your clit rhythmically. The force rocked you forward onto Jo's lap, forcing you to take him deeper into your throat. 

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” Jo chuckled. 

You could only moan in response, your mouth too full of his cock to form words. Jo's hands came up to tangle in your hair, pushing you down further onto his shaft until your nose was pressed against his pelvis and you were gagging around him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to breathe, but the pain and humiliation only turned you on more, making your pussy clench around his cock.

“Look at her.” Jungwon thrusted savagely, cock swelling inside you, veins pulsing against your fluttering walls, “Pussy so fucking tight for us.”

The dual sensations overwhelmed you, Jungwon's dick pounding into your pussy, stretching and claiming you with every thrust, his fingers digging bruises into your hips; Jo's length sliding over your tongue, the musky taste of him flooding your senses as you worked him relentlessly. 

Your body moved between them like a conduit of pleasure, knees grinding into the carpet, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth. Jungwon's grunts filled the room, low and animalistic, his pace faltering as he chased his release. Not yet, he reminded himself. What sort of a man would he be if he let you cum this easy?

Jo's breaths came in ragged pants, his cock twitching in your mouth, swelling against your tongue. You felt the telltale throb, the way his thighs tensed under your palms—he was close too, teetering on the edge from your expert suction.

You sped up, slurping noisily, your hand wrapping around the base to stroke what your lips couldn't reach, twisting on the upstroke. But just as the coil tightened in your core, your pussy fluttering around Jungwon, he yanked you back by your hair.

With a wet schlick, his cock slipped free from your pussy, leaving you empty and aching, and he pulled your mouth off Jo's shaft just as a spurt of pre-cum leaked onto your tongue. You whimpered in protest, lips swollen and shiny, but Jungwon's grip was iron. 

“Not so fast.” Jungwon said, smirking at Jo’s whine, “On the floor, both of you. Now.”

Jo obeyed without hesitation, sliding off the chair and stretching out on the carpet, Jungwon pushed you forward, positioning you over Jo's hips. 

Your knees sank into the soft carpet on either side of Jo's waist, the rough weave biting into your skin as you hovered above him. His cock stood rigid against his stomach, slick from your earlier mouth work, the veins bulging and the head glistening with that denied pre-cum. Jo's eyes locked onto yours, wide and pleading, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. 

“You wanna show him how good this pussy feels?” Jungwon, knelt behind you, cock pressing against your ass, slick with your juices. 

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you gripped Jo's base, angling him toward your entrance. The tip nudged your folds, parting them easily since you were still soaked from Jungwon's earlier thrusts. 

Slowly, you lowered yourself, feeling the streeetchhh as his thickness breached you. He was thicker than you'd fully realized in the chair, your walls parting around him deliciously. Jo's mouth fell open in a silent moan, his hands flew to your waist, but he didn't dare move.

“S-So tight.” He muttered underneath his breath, locking his hazy eyes with yours.

When you bottomed out, your clit pressed flush against his pelvis, you paused to adjust, rolling your hips in a slow circle that ground him deeper. Jo's hands finally moved, hesitantly gripping your thighs, his thumbs stroking the lace edges of your panties still shoved aside.

His eyes fluttered half shut, as you leaned forward, bracing your palms on his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart under your fingers. 

“My turn, yeah baby?” Jungwon said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the air, “Gotta let you decide who you like better, pretty girl.”

He spat into his palm, rubbing it over your tight hole, then nudged the head in. He filled your ass with immense pressure, making Jo's cock feel even bigger inside your pussy. Hell, you’d taken his cock so many times before, but it felt even bigger now.

“Relax for me, doll.” Jungwon growled, one hand sliding around to your front, fingers finding your clit and rubbing firm circles to ease the intrusion. You did, pushing back against him, and he sank in steadily, the dual stretch turning the burn to a deep, throbbing ache of pleasure.

They were both buried to the root now, your body sandwiched between them on the office floor, the carpet rough against your knees. Jungwon started moving first, shallow thrusts into your ass that shifted you on Jo's length, creating friction that had you moaning filthy, filthy moans. If only HR could see you now.

“Move.” Jungwon gasped as he felt you squeeze the ever-loving life out of his cock, “Fuck her pretty little pussy while I take her pretty little ass.” 

Jo nodded frantically, his hips bucking up tentatively at first, then gaining confidence. They found a rhythm—one pulling out as one thrusted in, then reversing, their cocks rubbing against each other through the thin wall separating your holes. The sensation was overwhelming: fullness bordering on too much, every nerve alight, your clit grinding against Jo's pelvis with each dual push.

 “Fuck, she's gripping me so hard.” Jo chuckled, his head tipping back against the carpet, his grip on your thighs tightening, “Squeezing me like a fucking vice, baby.” 

Jungwon chuckled darkly, bottoming out in your ass with a final thrust that jolted you forward, forcing Jo's cock to nudge deeper inside. You rode the wave, hands braced on his chest, nails digging in as pleasure built anew. 

“Harder, Jo. Make this pretty slut feel it.” Jungwon ordered, slamming into your ass with a force that jolted you forward. Jo complied, thrusting up sharply, his cock hitting deep in your pussy, the head nudging your cervix. Sweat slicked your skin, nipples grazing Jo's chest through his half-unbuttoned shirt.

The contrast between them made your already fucked-out head spin. Jo was so fucking gentle with it, shallow lifts of his hips that ,matched your bonus, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy with wet thwop thwop thwops. Jungwon’s were sharper, more experienced, deep driiives into your ass that slapped his hips against your cheeks.

The friction built quickly, their lengths destroying your poor body, creating a pressure that had you moaning openly, your voice echoing off the office walls. You rode them like that, body undulating between the two men, sweat beading on your skin and trickling down your cleavage. Jo's shirt rode up, exposing his abdomen, and you raked your nails over it, leaving red trails that made him hiss. 

“Harder, Jo.” You whined, grinding down to take him fully on each descent. He obeyed, hips snapping up with more force, head of his cock battering your inner walls and hitting that spot that made the entire galaxy burst behind your eyelids.

“Look at him, baby.” Jungwon commanded, leaning over your shoulder to nip at your earlobe, “Tell him how much you love his cock.” His hand on your clit sped up, pinching and rolling the nub until your thighs quivered.

You opened your eyes slightly, catching Jo's gaze, his face flushed and eyes glassy. “Love it so much—” You panted, “God I love it so—fuck fuck oh god!” His response was a broken groan, his thrusts turning erratic, chasing the praise.

Jungwon shifted his angle, one hand bracing on Jo's thigh for leverage, and drove in deeper, the force pushing you down harder onto Jo. The carpet chafed your knees raw, but the pain only heightened the sensations, blending with the coil tightening in your belly. 

You reached back with one hand, tangling in Jungwon's hair to pull him closer, encouraging his rhythm. His free hand roamed up your side, cupping a breast and pinching the nipple sharply, twisting until you cried out. Jo mirrored him from below, his mouth latching onto your other breast, sucking the peak into wet heat, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

The dual assault on your body overwhelmed you—their mouths and hands claiming every inch of your shaking body, cocks pistoning in alternating strokes that left no part of you empty. Your pussy fluttered, walls spasming as orgasm approached, juices leaking down Jo's shaft to soak his balls. 

“‘m close.” You warned, voice high and desperate.

Jungwon bit your shoulder, not hard enough to break skin, but just enough to leave a very visible mark, “What do you think? Should we let our pretty girl cum?” 

Jo chuckled breathily, his tongue releasing your nipple with a pop. “She’s been good enough. I think we can let her.” The room echoed with the obscene sounds: wet slaps of flesh, your gasps and their grunts, the creak of the floor beneath your writhing bodies, “You wanna cum for us, baby?” 

“Yes yes yes!” You cried out, feeling nothing other than a sense of absolute ecstasy, ‘Wanna cum so bad, please please pleeasee.”

“Go on then.” Jungwon said, “Cum for us like a good girl.”

The permission in his voice pushed you over. Your climax hit like a wave, crashing through you, pussy and ass contracting in waves that gripped them both. You screamed, body shaking, nails digging into his chest as euphoria ripped you apart.

Jo’s cock swelled inside you, hot spurts of cum flooding your pussy as he thrust up one last time, burying deep. 

“Fuck!” He cried, body arching off the floor. Jungwon held out a beat longer, pounding through your contractions until he slammed home, unloading into your ass with a guttural moan right from his chest, his fingers bruising your hip. Warmth spread from both ends, their releases mixing inside you, dripping out as they softened. They filled you completely, warmth spreading as you collapsed forward onto Jo's chest, all three of you panting in the afterglow.

You collapsed forward onto Jo's chest, his arms wrapping around you weakly, both of you slick with sweat. Jungwon eased out first, a trickle of cum following, then helped lift you off Jo, who lay boneless on the carpet, chest heaving. The three of you stayed tangled there for minutes, breaths syncing in the dim office light, the party's noise a distant reminder of the world outside.

“So….”

“Jungwon, do not start right now.” You warned him, lying on the carpet between them both, your body feeling like it was hit by a thousand daggers. 

“Well, this was your idea.” Jungwon said, closing his eyes and sinking into the floor, getting ready to dissociate from the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry what?” Jo said, turning his head to you, strands of hair falling into his face and framing it perfectly.

“Well what’s a girl supposed to do?” You laughed, “Just stand there while her hot piece of ass boss looks at her like that?” 

There was a pause. Jo propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you amusement in his eyes.

“How about a date then?” Jo asked, his gaze fixed on yours, “You wanted to know how I act outside the office right?” You blinked at him.

“You’re asking me out?” You said, like you needed to hear it again.

“Yes.” He chuckled awkwardly.

Jungwon slowly sat up. “I leave you two alone for fifteen minutes—”

“Jungwon.”

“I’ll shut up.”

“You’re sure?” Your lips curved slowly, disbelief melting into something warmer. “And this isn’t a panic response?” You teased lightly.

Jo’s mouth twitched. “Not at all.”

“Well,” You said, tilting your head at him, “I suppose I could clear my schedule.” You pushed yourself up fully, brushing imaginary dust from your hands as if buying time.

“Dinner on Friday then?”

"Dinner on Friday.” You agreed. For a second, neither of you moved, lost in each other’s gaze.

“Can I throw up now.” 

“I’ll throw a cactus at you Yang Jungwon.”

fin. 

Divider by @pixopix

He set his cup down on the glass table and crossed his legs. Sitting in a red velvet armchair, he looked like a therapist straight out of a movie. Was it a great first impression? you didn't exactly know either. 

On one hand, he looked trustful for sure. Maybe you've been watching way too many dramas with the same plot. A teenage girl has problems in school, then flashes to a few scenes with her therapist, who makes her realize that all she needs is love. And the girl is just like 'wait, yes' then just goes and dates the basketball captain. 

You wish it was easy like that. But you weren't in school anymore, and it was never really that easy for you. In highschool, quite literally you were the biggest loser in the world. Someone who even grimaced at the thought of someone loving her deeply, cause even the thought made you seem like it was a joke or something. 

Looking back, high school was the most horrible thing to happen to you. You had friends, but nobody was ever interested in you. And missing out on that well-known teenage romance was a hard pill to swallow, but you accepted your fate after a while.

Then, in your last year, it happened. The thing that you thought never would. Someone asked you out, and that someone was none other than Byun Eui-joo, one of the players of the local water polo team. Everybody knew him as EJ. 

He wasn't the most popular and known guy in the school, but he was for sure one of them big dogs. After all, he got a nickname, and not everybody was important enough to get a nickname. For example, you didn't get one. Never, from anybody.

So, after EJ asked you out, you obviously agreed right away. The first date was so awkward you would never go back to that again, but he was so giggly and cute that your heart nearly melted. Soon, you guys started dating.

But after five years, here you are in your freshly chosen therapist’s room, telling him all about EJ and how he's annoying you even more by every passing day. He's looking at you through his square glasses, and he would look intimidating if you would think deeper into it, but you are too carried away. Your words just flow out of your mouth like a waterfall, and someone finally listens. That's all you wanted, since your boyfriend is not capable of that. 

“That's interesting” The therapist looked down on his notes and flipped a page, looking like he would rather be anywhere than this room.

Your eyes nearly twitched “That's all? Interesting?” 

He looked up without lifting his head, eyes glancing up above his silver glasses. “Is this your first day here? In Hawaii”

You nodded your head “Yes. I just moved here, like two days ago, but we could call it my first day. I haven't had time to get out of my new house. There's too much unresolved stuff”

He hummed, and for a moment you swear you could feel his judgement. That can't be true, right? This is his job, he is supposed to listen.

“You are telling me that the first thing after you got out of your house was to go to a therapy session?”

You gulped. Well, if he worded it like that, it for sure seemed like fatal trouble. But you weren't desperate for answers. You just wanted good advice, or just anyone to listen to you. 

“I mean— I—” you stumbled over your words “I just can't take the arguments anymore. I need a solution”

He wrote something down, the silence in the room suffocating. The only sound being his pen as it chiseled into the paper was the most embarrassing thing you have experienced in a while. It made you think about what he could be writing. 

He turned his head to look outside on the big window that screeched from the room’s ceiling to the floor. The view was straight up amazing from the small room, the beach and the sea’s beautiful image seductively calling you to go down and dip into the water.

The whole session felt so odd. You were uncomfortable, and as the time kept passing and you kept glancing at the clock on the wall, you realized this is surely not how it was supposed to go. 

He wasn't even replying to you most of the times, he just scrabbled down stuff in his notebook like it was some fucking interview. 

You were about forty minutes into the session when you let out a sigh and let your back hit the backrest of the cushion. 

He glanced up from the notebook, eyes heavy on you. 

And before you could stop and think, the words slipped out of your mouth “Do you have a solution or any advice? Or should I walk out helpless?”

One more moment of silence. A big one. 

He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, since it began to slide down. Then, he lifted his chin up. “Yes, actually”

The words made your eyes widen slightly. You didn't think this session was going to end up anywhere. In fact, the past forty minutes seemed like you wasted it from your precious life. 

You sat up straight “And what is it?”

“Try a sport” 

You knitted your brows together in confusion. This was an answer you should’ve seen coming, just pure bullshit that doesn't make sense. 

As if he could read your mind, he began to explain. “I know what you think. But I’m not insane, I promise. We just have our things… different here. You said you came from Portland, right?”

You nod your head.

“You probably had a way more different life so far than you will living here. Look outside, it's so sunny, and happy, isn't it?”

You turn your head to the gigantic window you were just looking out on a few minutes ago. The beach life was still active, loads of people were in the water, or on the sand tanning. 

“Yes, it is” You agree.

“Have you ever tried any watersports?” He asks kindly, a subtle smile on his face now. Okay, that proves he may not be that bad after all. At least he doesn't look like a serial killer now. He should smile more.

You think it through, but you realize you don't have to think that much when you can barely even swim. “Not really” 

“Great!” He claps his hands together, pure excitement radiating from his expression “Now it's time, then.” He looks at the clock, then stands up to guide you out when he sees the one hour has passed.

“Sadly, our time is over” He says, and you stand up too to shake hands.

“Thank you, and I will take your advice” You say slightly bowing to show respect as you shake his hand. 

“It’ll help, trust me. I’m going to send you one of my friend’s social media pages, if that's okay. That man is an expert!” He even lets out a laugh, and you respond with a chuckle on your own too.

❥°  •  ° ・°   ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈  ° ・ °  •  °❥

Two days have passed since the therapy session with your new therapist, but you still haven't gotten that message. Honestly, you weren't even sure if he told you the truth or not. What if he just made that friend up in his own mind? He seems like the kind of person who would do that. 

You kept on wondering while standing in the kitchen, slicking up tomatoes for your and EJ’s lunch. It has been a while since you and him ate together, and you thought it might be a good idea to make his favorite dish for this special event. 

He wasn't home since he already found a job, though you moved in only a few days ago. When he stated that and you questioned him, he just said he already got the job when you lived in Portland. He just didn't tell you about it.

Typical EJ. Sometimes you catch yourself wondering: when did you ruin your relationship with him? But every time this crosses your mind, you shake the thoughts away.

Now there's a different thought that gets into your mind. Was it worth it to move to Hawaii? Will things work out with him? You wanted to believe that you moved here for fun, and to change the environment around you. But deep down, you knew the truth. Of course you did, because you and him talked about it. 

Because your old therapist told you on the couple therapy sessions every time. ‘Try a vacation. You don't have to move if it's not that bad… even a simple vacation could help’

Seems like it was that bad that you had to move. And that made your heart ache, every time you remembered his face, his emotionless face when he told you he thinks it could be the best if you move out of your hometown. You lived your whole life in Portland.

But EJ was the only boy who ever loved you, and you knew you can't lose him. Even if he doesn't feel anything. Even if you don-

The buzz of your phone on the countertop makes you get out of your head, the sudden sound scares you so bad that you accidentally cut your index finger with the sharp knife. 

You cuss, then look at the phone. 

+1 808 777 7777: Here's the guy I was talking about. 

LINK

Have a nice day!

You almost immediately drop the knife on the countertop to suck the flowing blood from your finger while with your left hand, you clumsily pick up the phone to open the message.

Opening the link your therapist sent you, even your breath stuck in your throat. You were expecting everything but this sight. 

A guy, probably around the same age as you, in his early twenties. His social media account didn't look like some millennial or a pr team made it. Instead, it was filled with pictures where he was with his friends, pictures of him, places he went to and stuff. Just like if he had a normal life. 

This wasn't shocking just as itself. The only thing that shocked you was that this therapist knew people like this. Cool people.

You scroll up back onto the top of the page to read his bio. There weren't many things written on it, only a few casual information like his age or what country he lives in. His email was also there, where you could contact him. What your eyes stopped on was the very top line.

Surf Instructor.

Your stomach twirled at the thought of standing on a surf board and riding waves. No. That was way too out of your comfort zone. Especially with this guy. He looked way too cool compared to you, he seemed someone that genuinely enjoyed living to the fullest. Someone who had zero insecurities or problems.

You just couldn't imagine yourself surfing with this man. Or even being by the beach with him, your body made yourself nearly throw up every time you glanced at it in the mirror. 

You stopped sucking on your finger for a moment, just to type back a message to your therapist quickly.

you: surfing? no

Short, but it says everything he needs to know. Maybe he might think you are being rude, but… who does he think he is, really? Yes, you are there to ask for advice but if he gives you something stupid like surfing, then he shouldn't be surprised at your reaction.

You don't even have time to put the phone down and continue chopping the tomatoes when it buzzes in your hand, a not so delightful message flashing on the screen.

+1 808 777 7777: Already booked an appointment for tomorrow 10 am. Be there, the guy’s schedule is way too tight. 

No way back now :) 

You scoff in anger, practically throwing the phone on the counter. It ends up in the tomatoes, but you don't even care about that. What the hell does this guy think? Just because he's a therapist he can't make decisions instead of you. 

❥°  •  ° ・°   ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈  ° ・ °  •  °❥

After many many internal fights with yourself, you decided that maybe, maybe he was right. This whole moving out is to test waters, which became… quite literal. Coming out of your comfort zone can be positive, right? You asked yourself this exact question and nothing else while you took the bus to the beach. 

Yesterday afternoon wasn't the most pleasant thing you've ever experienced. EJ came home pretty late, and the lunch you made became a dinner, but it also became cold and sticky. He didn't enjoy it, and he voiced it. 

You were about to cry yourself to sleep, because EJ probably had such a bad day at work. He just started at his new workplace, but it was already stressful for him and it was very obvious that he took the tension out on you with his constant remarks. 

Moving was a shit idea. Spending loads of money on a house in the beautiful Hawaii was a shittier idea. You should've stayed in the gloomy and crimeful Portland.

The sand got in your sandals, and it was pretty irritating having it stuck to your feet and having it between your toes, you couldn't care less about it. 

Your mind was already spiraling on lunch. You should be in the kitchen right now. It’s just a little bit past nine, but you should be already cooking. What if you don't have food on the table by the time EJ comes home?

Will he be mad? 

No, he will probably come home at night anyways. You have plenty of time today. A simple surf lesson won't hurt you or him. But if he finds out you found a therapist for yourself, now, that's a different story. That would mean the end of you. 

You looked over at the sea, the sun had just started coming up not so long ago, and its rays covered the top of the water, making it look like a golden bridge made out of veil. 

You get your phone out of your pocket and take a photo of it. Kind of a weird habit, but you always take pictures of everything you find pretty. Especially clouds. If it looks like something, your phone is already in your hand. 

You closed the camera app and the next thing you do is check the address your therapist sent you yesterday. You let your feet sink in the sand while you do it, your sandals fully covered in sand now. 

“Where the fuck…” You mutter when you type it in the maps application, but you waste no time and start walking again. His workplace was pretty far away from… everything.

You kept on walking anyways, and just a little bit before 10 am you approached the place you tapped in google maps. A house.

That's it. Nothing else. Far away from the other houses or the high skyscrapers. Just a small outcrop of sand that looked like a small island but still, it wasn't because it was connected to the beachside with sand and not water. 

The small island however looked like it was made for that house. A few palm trees were around it, and it was made out of mainly wood and bamboo. The roof was apparently made of reeds, but you weren't exactly sure. 

You attempted to walk closer, and as you approached, you realized this was probably where he actually lived. You could sneak a glance at the inside of the house since the windows were pretty big and there wasn't any glass or curtains that would cover up the sight, just a mosquito net, and it looked like a real home. 

“Hey!” A kind voice came from behind your back just as you were about to go closer to the bamboo house, and it made you immediately turn around.

Just like that, you were facing the boy you’ve seen in the photos. In real life size, he looked way cooler than in those photos. His hair was red, even though in some of the photos it was either bleached or black. It all suited him, but seeing it red in real life made you sure that it was absolutely the best choice to dye it.

Suddenly, you felt tight in your own skin. Too big in your clothes. Too small next to him, but that behavior screamed pick me. You never understood the girls in high school who always complained how ‘small’ they feel. But now, you got it.

You swallowed hard, trying to erase the weird tug in your stomach. Feeling anxious when meeting next people was normal for you, but it was never this bad. It might be because it's just you and him. 

He reached out his hand, gesturing you to shake it as an introduction. You did it, mumbling your name with a nearly trembling voice. 

“Nicholas Wang” He said it back, his voice way more firm than yours. “Nice to meet you”

“Yeah, nice to meet you too” You tried to smile too, but failed miserably.

“So,” He clapped his hands together and looked you up and down “welcome to my place. I guess I should show you around a little bit. You seem nervous”

Your body stills at the call-out, but you don't say anything. What happened? Where’s your voice? You are supposed to spend the next two hours with this man, who is, let's just say… nevermind.

You nod your head and follow him as he gestures the way with a head tilt. 

First, he takes you next to the house. There's a small garage or something like that. It’s like his house, but a smaller version. You didn't even see it at first. He opens up the door, and you are faced with a bunch of surfing boards. 

“This is where I keep my work stuff” He explains “You can choose which one you want” He smirks down at you, but you just glance at his face for a moment. 

When you finished looking around, he closed the door. “Are you nervous?” 

You swallow again, feeling like your legs are about to give up at any moment. So fucking embarrassing. “I- a little bit, maybe. I've never been to a… instructor, to be honest” you giggle, but it has no humor to it.

Instead of laughing, he nods like he agrees or something. “Oh, I get it. But you need to loosen up. I hope I can reach that” 

He smirks and gives a pat to your shoulder, and you smile back too, even though you feel the apples of your cheeks get red. 

You look at the bamboo house, the question not leaving your head. You even decide to voice it out “Do you live here?” 

He nods proudly “Yes, I built the house actually. I used to live here with my friends but they moved away eventually” 

❥°  •  ° ・°   ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈  ° ・ °  •  °❥

The waters were pretty calm today, and it was not too sunny. It definitely wasn't on the level where your whole body felt like burning after being in the sun for more than five minutes. 

After around one hour into the lesson, there were more things you could take important notes of. First of all, therapists are right, even when it seems like they don't know what they're doing. They do. Coming out of your comfort zone can be nice, actually, fantastic, you just need to find the right way to do so.

Second, Nicholas is a good talker. This might be because he is a professional surfing instructor, but he knows how to talk to people. You loosened up after forty minutes, and you definitely wasn't feeling as anxious as before. 

One thing for sure, he might look super ‘cool’ in photos, and he is in real life too. But that doesn't purposely mean that he will judge you in your swimming suit, even if you cried over it last night. He also doesn't care about how your hair sits on the top of your head. He is a surfing instructor, a teacher after all. You are not here to make friends.

“You already do so good, y/n!” He praises, watching you lay on the surfing board and swimming with your hands. “If you keep being so good, we might reach the point where you stand up next lesson” 

“Already? Isn't that too soon?” You ask, genuinely shocked. 

He shakes his head, his wet strands of hair flying around his head “Nope. I'm actually not joking, you are one of the best students I’ve gotten”

You tilt your head, swimming closer to where he was sitting on his board. “Do you say this to every single one of your students, or am I special?” 

He lets out a small giggle, dropping his head “No, I don't. You really are special. I guess” 

“Wow, I'm honored” You sit up on your board, now being about one metre far away from him. 

For a moment, he just stares at you. You look down, taking a deep breath. “I can't believe you live like this” 

He widens his eyes, the sentence probably catching him off guard. “What? Like how?”

“I don't know” You shrug “So…Calm. Your life is peaceful. You live right next to the sea, you have always been living here and I don't know. It makes me jealous.”

He laughs awkwardly again, hopping off of the board. The two hours had passed and it was time to get out of the water. You couldn't even believe the lesson was already over. 

“Jealous?” Is all he says. 

You gulp as you step out on the beach, sand sticking to your feet. You don't know what to say exactly. Nicholas seems like such an interesting person with an interesting life. While all you do is cook for your boyfriend who doesn't even come home, just sometimes. The worst thing is that you will probably marry that man. No, actually, the worst thing is that you are attached to him. You can't leave him, he has filled up your life ever since your teenage years. 

“Can I be honest?” 

He looks at you, rather concerned and scared than funny like how he looked the whole session. But he nods, and that's all you care about.

“I feel like I want to know everything about you and your life” 

❥°  •  ° ・°   ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈  ° ・ °  •  °❥

two weeks later

EJ comes home way sooner than he usually does, and that kind of catches you off guard. He texted you saying you don't have to prepare any lunch. That's another thing that catches you off guard. 

But that meant you had time. You used that time to go to a surfing lesson. In the past two weeks, you went almost every day if not every day. You weren't sure about the stuff that your therapist said about Nicholas having a ‘tight schedule’ cause somehow when you texted him ‘can i come now?’, he always replied with yes.

That's how it went today too. EJ texted you that he will come home at two pm. He sent the message at eight am.

You went to Nicholas straight away. 

You weren't exactly sure why you were enjoying this whole sport thingy so much. The surfing part didn't even excite you that much. It was probably the easiest sport of all the time, but Nicholas kept praising you about how good you were compared to others. And that made you feel special.

Nicholas was your teacher, but it felt like with all the meet ups every day that you guys have become friends by now. 

The best thing was that you and him could talk about anything. You were keeping it professional and you didn't talk about private life, but everything going on in the world, or just casual stuff. It felt refreshing.

And sometimes, lately, the time you were spending together wasn't purposely surfing lessons. Sometimes he just invited you inside his bamboo house, and you talked. Drank wine. Okay, that only happened once. But it still happened.

You went to him again like always, and you were sitting on his couch, next to each other. You talked the time away quickly. It passed so fast that you didn't even realize that it was already half past two. 

“I’m just saying! The red looks amazing” You say, twirling a strand of his red dyed hair with your index finger. It had already faded out and became somewhat pink, but it still looked good. “Or, hear me out. Pink. Make it pink” 

“Nah, I don't think that's a good idea” He shakes his head, keeping his eyes on you. “It wouldn't suit me”

“It would, what do you mean?” You say, completely protesting against him “Pink is literally the best color. Like, ever”

He chuckles “Fuck no. I still think my blonde era was the best. But pink… it would look good on you” He added, scanning your face with his eyes. 

You look down, dropping your hand from his hair to your own lap. Sometimes he complimented you, even if they were just small compliments like this, and it felt… well… you felt something. It felt good. But nothing more. 

“Thanks…” You mumbled under your breath. 

Nicholas laughed and dropped his hand on your knee. “Did I make you flustered? My bad” 

Your phone suddenly vibrates in your pocket, and it isn't a message. It keeps buzzing, meaning someone is calling you. And that someone can't be other than… fuck. 

You pull your phone out of your pocket with the speed of light, looking at the flashing name on the screen. 

“ej🩷”

Obviously. Who else. Your eyes fly to the time on the top of the screen: 14:34 

Fucking hell. You totally forgot about him coming home earlier for some fucked up reason. Nicholas looks at you with a worried expression, muttering a “What?” when you stand up and rush out of his house.

You mumble a sorry before stepping out and swiping up the green button, ready to get scolded. It happens as you expect.

“Where the hell are you?”

“I can be wherever I want to. It's none of your business, EJ”

“What? You are MY girlfriend and I told you to be home. I prepared you a fucking gift! Of course you had to ruin it”

You speed up with your steps, nearly stumbling as the sand keeps getting into your sandals. “I swear to fucking God, I’m not some home wife…”

“Well, I was about to make you one! And —” 

The rest of the sentence is a blur, you barely even let the words you heard sink in. Make you one? If that means… 

“Make me one?” You stop your steps.

“Yes, fucking hell. I was about to take you out on a fancy ass date so you don't have to fucking cook. And then, I wanted to ask you to be my wife” 

You press the red button and put the phone down. This can't be fucking real. For a few moments, you stand still, feet rooted in the sand, the only sound you hear is the sea and the thoughts in your head going wild.

You don't want to go back there. You want to stay here, because it is so calm. Not like him. He is so aggressive. Why would he want to marry you? 

It's probably not even his idea. He would never take you out on a date, those days are over. There are big chances that it was his passive aggressive mother who told him to do this whole thing. They've been wanting him to have a wife and children for so long. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, anxiety spiking up in your whole body as you continue to walk to the bus stop. You are not ready to have children, you can't have children. Not now. It's just not ideal. Especially not with EJ. You believe his whole family is cursed, and you definitely don't want to pass down those cursed energies to your children. 

The thought makes you want to throw up. The thing is that, if someone was about to ask you about your opinion on this about three weeks ago, maybe you would’ve said yes. 

But you forgot to mention something in the important notes thing. 

Nicholas was the perfect man. You knew this from the moment you looked at his pictures. He looked perfect. But when you met him, yes, you did feel anxious, but it wasn't just that. You haven't felt that feeling in a long time.

The last time you felt that was in highschool, when EJ asked you out. It was a long while ago. EJ wasn't able to make you feel like that since that. 

But every time you are with Nicholas… There's something. It feels like he made you less attached to EJ and his toxic family.

You know you can't think about this right now. You have to go home, maybe make EJ less furious with something, his favorite meal? Just get his mind off of the marriage. You would even have sex with him right now. If it takes his mind off of it, you would do it.

❥°  •  ° ・°   ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈  ° ・ °  •  °❥

Your hands are straight up trembling when you put the key into the door, opening it as silently as you possibly could. 

But as you step in and look forward, you find EJ looking at you while he stands in front of the kitchen island, leaning back on it with his arms crossed.

“Where the fuck were you, y/n?” He asks, voice low.

“Nowhere” You simply reply, suddenly feeling your ego spike up.

He pushes himself away from the counter and makes his way to you. “Fucking answer me”

“I answered”

EJ runs a frustrated hand through his hair, putting his hands on his hips. “I just… I really wanted this day to go well and you ruined it for me, babe.” 

“Really? Are you fucking kidding me right now, EJ? Do you know how many days you ruined for me? I've been standing in this kitchen for days to make you fucking lunch, and you don't even appreciate it. You never do.” It takes you so much courage, but you say your thoughts out. You were always the one who got silenced in this relationship, and you are feeling brave today anyways. “Suddenly, you want me to be your wife?”

He audibly gulps, his Adams apple moving down and up. “Yes. We have been together since high school, and...”

“It doesn't fucking matter. You ruin me, EJ. You…I…” You broke down, feeling the tears coming to your eyes. Fuck, no, you can't let yourself cry. Not in front of him. 

“I ruined you?” He raises his voice, now it sounds threatening “I saved your teenage years. Come on, Fuma told me you were always barking about how much you wanted a boyfriend. I thought i would ask you out, so you would fucking stop complaining to my friend all the fucking time”

Your heart drops. He never actually wanted you. It was all an act. It all sets into place now. He never actually wanted to ask you out, he did it so his friend (who was also your friend at the time) won't hear about your problems. 

You simply turn around, forcing yourself not to fall to the ground and cry. You simply turn around, so you don't shout at him and send him back to his mother's pussy. You simply turn around, and walk out. You run down on the stairs of the flat before he could chase you, but no, he would never do that. It's clear now. He wouldn't go after you. 

And he doesn't.

You know where you want to go right away. And you don't even question where your feet take you, right to the bus stop. You step on the floor of the bus numbered as 303. You still don't question. You feel like you finally know what you want.

However, you can't stop the tears falling from your eyes as you sit down next to the window. You don't even try to stop them, you know it would be impossible.

The bus is quiet, no one looks at you, everybody just stands or sits there boring their face onto their phone’s screen. You look outside, admiring the way the sun’s rays fall onto the water. 

It takes twenty minutes to get there. After that, comes the walk you hate so much. Half an hour. Finally, you approach the familiar bamboo house, kind of feeling exhausted from the walk. You and Nicholas for sure grew closer, but you can't help but feel a twist in your stomach. He is your surf instructor. He wasn't your friend, even if it seemed like he was. Or was he? You never talked about private things. Life things.

Despite the hesitant feeling in your feet, and the little voice in your head that told you to turn around and walk back, say yes to EJ and have children with him, you took a step.

Then you decided to not think anymore. Your life is fucked up anyways. In the next minute you found yourself knocking on the bamboo door. Nicholas opened it right away.

“y/n?” he asks, eyebrows going up in surprise. Usually, when you come to his house for a non appointment, you always text him first, but that doesn't happen now. 

“Sorry for bothering you” You try to sound normal, but you can't help the small shake that gets into your voice when you talk. “I just-” you lower your head, avoiding eye contact.

Nicholas steps closer, lifting up your chin to make you look at him “Hey, you are not bothering me” his voice softens.

You look up at him, feeling your eyes getting wetter by each second. His eyes are filled with genuine concern and softness, something that you’ve never seen on him before. He was always soft, but he kept it so professional that you could feel: there was a line that you couldn't cross with him. 

Now, that line seemed to blur, even if just a little. “Can I come in?” You insist shyly, and he immediately nods and stands out of the doorway so you could get in.

You go to his dark brown couch and lay down, practically throwing yourself onto the mattress and burring your head onto one of the soft pillows.

He stands by the kitchen, leaning his back against the counter and crossing his strong arms in front of his chest, making his forearm muscles flex.

Nicholas scans you with his eyes, looking at you laying on his couch and watching as you turn around from your stomach to your back, so you can see him since the kitchen and the cushion was placed across both sides of his house in front of each other. 

As you look at him, you notice that he has changed since you went back to EJ. When you were last here, he was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, but now he's wearing grey sweatpants instead of jeans. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, keeping his voice firm but soft at the same time. 

You shrug and bite down your lower lip. Should you? Is it a good idea to talk about this to your teacher? You think it through quickly, but then you realize Nicholas is basically your only friend here in Hawaii. You really don't have anyone else now.

You bob your head.

“So what's up?” He asks casually, turning around so he can get a glass of water for you. “Who called you earlier and why are you all messy now?”

You run your hands through your hair at that, fixing it. “I don't even know how to tell you”

He hands you the glass of water and sits down next to you on the couch, turning his body sideways so he faces you while his arm rests on the back of the sofa. “Just tell me” He shrugs.

“Okay, so…” you began, looking down to gather your thoughts “I already told you why I moved here. Halfly.”

What you told him was less than half of your story. Yes, your father did die and it was a hard pill to swallow. You don't know why, but it was easier to tell him that rather than telling him about your boyfriend. The truth is that your dad died when you were thirteen. That was not recently.

“But there's another thing. My boyfriend, so, my boyfriend and I have problems lately.” That was another white lie. Not just lately, you have been having problems since forever. Now that you know he never actually liked you was even harder. 

He nods, like he understands. It makes your courage come back. “We went to a couple therapist, and he told us to move. He told us that if we move, the new environment would make our problems look smaller or something like that… Bullshit.”

A subtle smirk was playing on his face, but he didn't say anything. “We moved and long story short, he just told me he wants to marry me.”

A silent moment. 

“Oh” Nicholas’s body stills “And that's a problem because…?”

“Because we have been doing nothing, just arguing all the time, Nicholas! He doesn't even come home. But his mother is a passive aggressive bitch, and she probably wants him to have children so she can be a grandma”

“Damn, that's fucked up” He lets out a sigh, putting his hand on your knee to caress it as reassurance. 

Your gaze slips to his hand, and you are hesitant but decide to ask the question that sat on your tongue ever since you stepped in. “Can I sleep here?”

Nicholas doesn't even flinch, he nods right away. “Yes” after a silent beat, he adds “But…”

You sigh, already knowing what's going to come. He will deny you for some stupid reason, or will say that you have to go home at seven am.

Just like he could read your mind, or expression, he says “I’m sorry y/n. But I’m going to Los Angeles with my friends tomorrow. There's a surfing camp and a bunch of kids are waiting for us and-”

“I can go too” You say suddenly, making his eyes widen “I mean, If you want me to, I wasn't being disrespe-”

“Actually, yeah” He nods in agreement “Why not? You can come too”

❥°  •  ° ・°   ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈  ° ・ °  •  °❥

You thought the night by Nicholas is going to be somewhat awkward for multiple reasons. First and foremost, you still have a boyfriend! You keep reminding yourself that when you bore into his eyes too much, but fuck, his fault for being so damn good at having eyes. 

Then, you remember that he is still your teacher. Actually, this even slipped out of your mouth yesterday. You aren't sure what was the topic, but you added ‘who am I to expect an advice from you, you are just my teacher’

Now, that was something you weren't meant to say. But he just laughed it off and told you he actually is your friend now, not just a teacher. That made your heart drop to your stomach.

Nicholas is way too sweet with you, and you are not used to this. EJ was never this soft. You couldn't help but start comparing the two to each other last night, as you watched Nicholas drift to his dreams.

The next day you woke up to the smell of pancakes. You haven't eaten pancakes since you moved out from your mother, even though it was your favorite breakfast. 

You also came to the realization pretty quick that you didn't pack clothes. Nicholas offered to give you his, and you gladly accepted his offer. 

Now you were standing in the middle of Honolulu airport with packed bags, trying to figure out which one is your flight and where are Nicholas's friends.

You looked at the board on the top of the wall with a slightly tilted head. “Why are there so many take-off runways? I swear to god there are at least five different letters and ten numbers”

“Right? So unnecessary” Nicholas agreed. 

You set your gaze at your ticket again, checking what was the number and letter you were looking for. P7. The randomly chosen letters didn't help the situation, because tell me who the hell would choose P, B and Y as runway letters?

You were very close to crashing out to Nicholas about this when you heard a yell calling his name from afar. Nicholas and you both jolted your head towards the sound, and you spotted two people with luggages approaching you.

When they reached you, they both hugged Nicholas. You weren't exactly sure if these were the friends he talked about earlier, but they for sure looked like close friends.

Then, the one in the front turned towards you. He was shorter than Nicholas, around the same height as you, maybe a few centimeters taller. His hair was cherry red, just like Nicholas's. He looked like he was some kind of porcelain doll, suddenly you couldn't help but ask yourself how can someone be this beautiful.

He gave you a subtle smile and reached out his arms for a hug. “Hi, I’m Harua” he introduced himself when you both let go, and now you weren't scared to give him a smile too. 

“Hello, I’m y/n” 

“Nice to meet you, y/n” the guy behind Harua speaks, giving his hand out for you to shake it.

He looks way stronger than the other guy, and he is as tall as Nicholas. He wears a sleeveless top and his biceps are showing off pretty much. He has sunglasses on, but you could still see how his facial features were stronger than Harua's or Nicholas's, his jawline was way sharper. His hair was dyed cotton candy pink, which balanced his strong features. 

He shook your hand firmly “I’m Maki”

The next twenty minutes were spent looking for the flight, getting on the flight and casual inspections. Harua and Maki were seated next to each other, while you and Nicholas were sitting on the other side of the row. He let you sit next to the window, too. 

You were more than nervous before the takeoff. You sat on a plane before, but it was always such a stressful and overwhelming experience for you. You chew on your lips until it bled, tasting your bitter blood on your tongue. At least it distracted you a little bit.

“Are you okay?” Nicholas leaned closer and whispered as he squirmed in his seat, finding the right position to sit in.

“Yeah, just a little nervous” You mumble back, not looking at him.

A few moments later you feel a warm hand touching yours, fingers intertwining with yours. Your eyes widen and you look down at your hand, watching as Nicholas's much bigger palm covers it. The plane began to move, and you froze in your seat. Nicholas caresses the side of your hand slightly, his thumb brushing over the skin. 

After the plane was in the air, your body calmed down, but Nicholas didn't let go of your hand for the whole five hours while you got to Los Angeles. 

It was way hotter there than it was in Honolulu. You just walked down on the stairs of the plane, and you were already sweating everywhere. Suddenly, you felt jealous of Nicholas and his friends, because they decided they come in sleeveless tops unlike you. 

A short sleeve tight T-shirt will be embarrassing in a few minutes, and right now you don't even have deodorant with you. Great.

“Jeez” Maki scoffs, putting back his sunglasses on his face as you got down on the ground from the plane and got your bags. “So fucking hot”

“It's the ground radiating the hotness” Nicholas replies “It won't be this hot on the beach” he puts on sunglasses too.

He threw his leather jacket over his shoulder, and the four of you began to walk out of the airport. The camp is not so far away from the airport, and you decide that it would be the cheapest solution if you would walk there. Maki and Nicholas walk in the front to show the way, chatting about some surfing stuff while you and Harua walk behind them.

The first few minutes pass in silence, both of you being too scared to speak. Then, he suddenly turns his head to you. 

“Are you, like, his girlfriend?” Harua asks shyly, keeping his voice low so Nicholas and Maki don't hear him, even though they're deep into their own conversation.

You jolt your head towards him, breath hitching in your throat all of sudden. “What?” you chuckle awkwardly “No, why would I be? I'm just one of his students”

“Oh” Harua says, genuinely dumbfounded “He usually doesn't bring his students to trips like this” he shrugs his shoulders.

“Does he bring his girlfriends?”

“Not really” He says while opening up his handbag and pulling a chocolate bar out of it “We never meet his girlfriends. I wouldn't even call them his girlfriends, they're usually one night stands or situationships” 

This new information hit you like a sucker punch, right in the stomach. You never expected Nicholas to be a guy like that, but honestly it made your mind light up. It felt like… you got curious. You couldn't help but ask more.

“Seriously? He never introduced them to you guys? Then how do you know they existed? I mean the one night stands” 

Harua let out a sarcastic chuckle, followed with a huff “Come on, we are men at the end of the day” he looked at you, but seeing the confused expression on your face, he explained “He brags about them quite a lot. Nicholas is like that. You don't really know him, I assume. How long have you been his student?”

You gulp, trying to remember the date you moved to Hawaii. 

“For around… three weeks, I guess. But we have lessons every day”

“I see” He takes a bite from the chocolate bar then wipes his mouth with the back of his palm “Every day? That's kinda crazy” he side-eyes you “But congratulations, you are officially his longest…” he doesn't finish the sentence, just keeps walking and eating his chocolate bar “Nevermind” he brushes off.

The topic fades into nothingness, but it stays in your mind. You might be a little delusional for overthinking this, but for now you don't even know where to put the things Harua just said. 

Soon, the four of you approach the camp by the beach and you put your thoughts away for a little while. 

Maki looks back at you and Harua excitedly “Wow, it's a big one!”

“So many children too,” Nicholas adds, patting Maki’s chest.

They were the type of people who genuinely enjoyed their job, and that gave you a warm feeling. You don't see this often in today's environment. 

As you got closer to the gate, you came across a security guard. Nicholas did his part of the work and talked with the guard, while you, Maki and Harua started looking inside. 

“Come on guys” Nicholas gestured for you and the guard opened the gate, letting you in. 

The view of the camp amazed you, you didn't even know where to look. There were small wooden houses lined up along the shore, and gravel paths were built between the houses. It was so modern, especially for a camp. 

Suddenly, a woman came up to you, the biggest smile on her face. “Nicholas! Maki! Harua! Nice to meet you guys again. It was a pleasure last time too” She bowed slightly. Then, her eyes set on you. “Oh! I didn't know you have a plus one”

“Nicholas has a plus one” Maki corrected, but Nicholas hit his forearm playfully.

Her smile faltered for a moment, but it lightened up again when she realized. “It’s no problem! You guys are going to be in two bed houses anyways. At least Nicholas will have company” She winks at Maki, who chuckles slightly.

You feel your ears burn with embarrassment, and you are glad your hair covers it at this moment. You wouldn't want any of them staring or picking at you for this. 

The lady then turns on her heels and begins to walk quickly, the guys and you following her closely as she talks about the story of the camp and other probably not so interesting stuff like that. However, Nicholas seems to walk a little slower, matching your pace in the back.

“I'm sorry” He apologizes, though you don't know why “I forgot to tell her. I shouldn't have pushed you in an embarrassing situation” 

“It’s okay, really” You nod and give him a tight smile. If he was such a player as Harua described him, then why was he so soft with you? He apologized for the smallest things. 

You step into one of the wooden houses, where the woman says you should go in. It probably looks like the other ones. It’s almost a perfect square, with a small kitchen next to the door, two beds by the two walls on opposite sites and a small bedside table under the window in the middle, on the opposite wall from the door.

You throw your luggage on the bed and sit down next to it. Damn, it’s hard as fuck. Sleeping will be a problem, you are already sure about that. You glance out of the room through the window. Nicholas definitely wasn't right about it being less hot on the beach than in the airport. The sun beamed down by the sea, not a single cloud was in the sky. You assume it was good for the teachers though, a weather like this is better for teaching swimming and surfing than raining.

At a soft click of the door you turn your head, seeing Nicholas step in after he talked with the woman. He gives you a soft smile, walking closer awkwardly. 

“So, what's the plan?” You ask, breaking the silence.

Nicholas sits down on his bed across from yours, in the same line as you so you two face each other.

“Today we get to know the kids, just basic introduction and maybe a little bit of swimming” He begins, fidgeting with the sheet next to him “Tomorrow, we begin the hard work and practice surfing. But they'll have a break too. So nothing serious” He shrugs.

You nod, taking his words in. Two days at the camp is not a big thing after all, even though you would like to spend more time here. With Nicholas. 

You find yourself looking him up and down, eyes tracing the way he has his head leaned back towards the wall, and the way his Adams apple moves up and down as he gulps tightly. When you look back into his eyes, he’s looking at you.

You squirm in your place, feeling the tension in the room rise up as none of you say any words.

After a few silent moments, Nicholas breaks the silence, head still bumped back onto the wall “Can I ask you something?”

You nod, letting out a hum.

He licks his lips, unsure if he should ask it or not, but he decides it's the best to communicate. “Why didn't you tell me about your boyfriend earlier?”

The question was expected, but you don't have an exact answer. “I don't really know” You say, pulling your gaze off of him and dropping it to the ground “I guess I just didn't want you to know about him”

Nicholas hums, getting up from the bed. “Why?”

“Why are you asking questions like these?” You chuckle, kind of more out of embarrassment than from humor.

He looks back, his eyes dark but he doesn't say anything for a moment. “I'm just curious about why would he argue with someone like you”

He slips into his Adidas shoes then kneels down to tie the laces. 

“Someone like me?” you echo his words, confused.

“Yes” his voice is firm “Someone like you. I mean, you have everything in you a guy could dream of” He stands up and looks back once, but before you could say anything he opens the door and slips out of the house just like he was never there.

A soft click, and the door closes.

Your eyes are fixed on the floor, trying to take his words in. You feel the heat rising up into your cheeks, making them as red as a tomato.

You drink a glass of water before you go after him to the beach, where the kids are already split up in three different groups. One with Harua, one with Maki and one with Nicholas. One group consisted of about ten kids, and you only realized you didn't know what to do when you fully approached them.

The woman you spoke to earlier ran to you when she saw you standing there all alone and told you to sit down on one of the wooden chairs by the bar not so far away from the place Nicholas and his friends were teaching.

You followed her to the bar, and did as you were told so, watching the boys as they were explaining.

❥°  •  ° ・°   ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈  ° ・ °  •  °❥

The day passed by pretty fast, but it wasn't a huge surprise since you arrived at the camp quite late in the morning and they could only do the surfing lesson until the sun went down. After that, the wind’s strength rose up and the waves were too big for beginner surfers — kids — to ride.

However, the three guys were watching those waves with awe, feeling disappointed that they couldn't get in the water and ride them.

“Fucking hell, they're so big now” Maki commented, looking out the window like he was a footballer looking at the world cup.

Harua sipped from his beer and made a satisfied sound. “You better stop looking at them, I stopped too because it straight up hurts” 

Maki nods “You are right” he put one of his hands on his chest dramatically, like he was grasping onto his pearls “It hurts” he sniffs jokingly, then turns around from the window and sits down on the floor in front of Nicholas's bed, across from you and Harua who were sitting next to each other in front of your bed.

“When is he coming…” Harua muttered, looking at the door and expecting Nicholas to burst into the room with fresh cans of beer and a card game at any given moment.

“I don't know but now I'm getting bored that I can't watch the waves” Maki picks up Harua's glass and takes a sip from the only glass of remaining beer. 

“Hey!” Harua snitches from him right away, getting on all fours so he can reach the glass.

Maki just laughs, then makes eye contact with you “y/n, suggest a topic or something. I bet you have a lot on your mind”

You raise your brows “A lot in my mind? What do you mean exactly?”

Maki gives a knowing look to Harua, then chuckles playfully, a boyish smile plastered on his lips “Come on, you know what I mean”

He tsks when you don't answer just give him a confused look. 

“You and Nicholas” He explains, and your eyes drop to the ground. “See! that's what I'm talking about” He points it out. “You become all awkward when it comes to him”

You were never an extroverted person, and you felt like you acted awkward with everyone all the time, that's why you didn't have many people to understand you, but this time Maki could read you perfectly. Was he some psychiatrist in his last life?

“Are you guys dating?” He asks again, desperate for answers.

“No, we are not” You shake your head, looking up at him.

“...But you wish” Maki smiles mischievously, and you kick him playfully.

You open your mouth to say something, but the door opens and Nicholas steps in with a bag in one hand and a small pack of cards in his other one.

“That lady was selfish as fuck” Nicholas says, out of breath “She didn't want to give me all the beers”

“Nicholas!” Maki says, nearly yells, like he's celebrating his friend “We were just talking about you”

Nicholas's eyes shift to you for a moment, then back onto Maki’s “Really?”

“Yeah” Maki nodded, sliding a little bit sideways so Nicholas could sit down next to him on the floor. 

Nicholas looks at you again, but his expression is unreadable to you. He's still just as mysterious to you as he was before. His friends have been talking about him, but you still can't see him as the person they portrayed him as.

He brought the card game UNO, which was one of your childhood games. You were glad that you didn't have to go through the painful journey of explaining the rules to you or anyone else, cause that would've taken forever, given that you never understood the rules at first.

Harua opens up a can of beer for everyone while Nicholas shuffles the cards in his hands. 

“Did you guys say beautiful things about me while I was away?” He asks while giving the cards to everyone.

“Yes, of course.” Maki takes a sip, this time from his own beer “I could only say good things about you, Nicho” 

Nicholas chuckles sarcastically “Right”

Maki lets out a hum “By the way” He kisses his teeth, setting his can down “I was just about to get on with talking about your sex life when you stepped in, man.”

The suddenly blurted out words makes your jaw almost drop, you start coughing on the beer. Harua immediately reaches to your back, patting it. 

“Why would you do that?” Nicholas asks him when you were done coughing and they made sure you were okay and not dying. 

Maki tilts his head “You would do it too if it was me”

It felt like listening to a private conversation, you could tell that Maki and Nicholas were way closer than they were with Harua, because he hasn't said any words in the past half an hour in this conversation. Just like you. 

“No, I absolutely wouldn't. Because I’m a good friend” Nicholas smirks at the boy beside him.

“Okay, well” Maki shrugs, pulling the glass to his lips “We all know you want to get y/n laid, I just wanted to prepare her. With words, obviously” 

You are glad there wasn’t any beer in your mouth, because right now you would surely be coughing and choking from it. Nicholas stops looking at his cards and glances at you, getting embarrassed at Maki’s words. 

For a moment, a very small moment, his whole body stills and his shoulders tense. But after, he drops them like nothing happened and ends up chuckling. “Y/n knows nothing about my sex life” he says casually.

Maki’s eyes drift to you, a mischievous glint in them “She would like to find out things about it though” 

“That's true” Harua joins the conversation in the worst way possible, taking a sip from his own beer. “She was asking stuff from me before”

You bury your face in your palms, absolutely speechless by their sudden bluntness. You are not sure if they're like this all the time or is it just the beer.

“Uno” Nicholas says firmly, throwing a red two at the top of the deck. 

“The way you talk about me is really concerning” you comment, looking at your cards. Fuck, you only have blue. You take up one.

“It's not our fault you are being obvious” Harua answers, putting down one of his five cards in his hands. “But this goes to Nicholas too. Seriously, you thought we would let the fact slide that you never introduced any girl to us?”

Nicholas smiles and bites down his lip, dropping his last card after Maki takes up one from the deck “I won” he ignores what Harua said, and stretches his arms above his head.

Harua rolls his eyes and stands up, beer can in his hands. “It's getting late. There will be a bunch of screaming children around me tomorrow, so I should use my time out and sleep.” he states “Maki, you are coming too” He demands, and Maki stands up and follows him out right away.

They leave the house, and suddenly it becomes all silent when the lock clicks. You and Nicholas stay on the floor across from each other, only about one metre between you. 

He looks at you with a straight face, his eyes dark again, just like they were when he said that thing about you being every guy's dream. 

“How many girlfriends have you had before?” You ask him, kind of all of a sudden. 

The question doesn't make him flinch, he doesn't take his eyes off of you either “I don't know. I only remember one”

“You don't know?”

“I had girls but they weren't really my girlfriends” 

You knew exactly what he meant by this, the things Harua told you at the airport flashes into your mind.

“What's your boyfriend's name?” He asks back.

You swallow hard. “EJ”

The thought of him makes you overly uncomfortable, especially now, in this… moment with Nicholas. Even the way he looks at you, he looks so possessive you could bear the sight of this every day. You squirm in your place, your jeans getting uncomfortable.

Nicholas's eyes trace down your neck to your chest, then back onto your face. He gulps, then says “EJ… What a disgusting name”

You couldn't help but chuckle at that, and he cracks a smile too. “Do you want to… tell me more about him?” He asks, suddenly getting shy.

You bob your head anyways. You weren't that vulnerable, but with Nicholas it was so easy. Too easy. You could tell him everything, and this went vice versa.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, fidgeting with the edge of your shirt.

He looks up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. Then, when he gets the idea, he smirks at you “Do you guys do it?”

You knit your eyebrows. “What?”

He shifts, leaning a bit closer to you so he can whisper. “You know… You said he wants children and stuff”

You shrug, trying to keep your demeanor nonchalant “I— well—” you swallow.

He sees you fidgeting with your shirt out of anxiety, and he grabs your wrist to make you stop. Both yours and his eyes fall to the place where the skin gets in contact, and you look up into each other's eyes at the same time too. He was still leaning close to you, and it seems like he even shifted closer cause now your knees were also touching as you sat on the floor with crossed legs.

You gulp hard as he caresses your palm with his fingers “Stop that” he commands, and you nod.

After a few moments, you finally swallow the lump in your throat and find your voice again. “We do a couple of stuff…but…” you shrug, but he isn't satisfied with the answer.

He looks at you expectedly, something soft lingering in his gaze. “But?” he whispers. He puts his palm on your knee and presses down, tilting his head.

You hold eye contact, swallowing again. “He never liked me enough to do that” 

His eyes drop down to your knees, shifting closer. Then, he gets on fours so he can get even closer to you slowly, pressing a gentle kiss on your jaw. “Does he do that?” he whispers close to your ear, and you feel a shiver going down on your spine at the vibration of his voice.

You shake your head “Usually not”

Nicholas gets closer, this time licking your earlobe slightly. He was shy with it, the lick was so gentle you could almost not feel it. “Does he do this?” he asks after, and you shake your head again.

He moves down slowly, and you couldn't help but let him do whatever he wants to. You were so shocked by this that you didn't even take in what was even happening, not fully yet. 

He hovers over your neck for a while, still being on all fours. He clearly hesitates, but then he decides to do it and he presses his wet lips to your thyroid bulge, sucking on it ever so slightly. You tilt your head back and it hits the edge of the bed, letting your mouth hang open as he works his mouth on your neck, wandering sideways and up and down too.

He backs up after a few wet kisses, just so he can look up into your eyes and say breathlessly “Does he do this, y/n?” 

You shake your head and let your hands get into his strawberry hair, pushing him back and urging him to continue what he did before, chasing the feeling of his lips on your neck.

And he does just as you wish him to, putting one of his hands on the back of your neck so he can hold you while he kisses and licks all over your neck. He sucks on a spot, and you just hope it won't give you a mark.

Then he moves even lower, his lips finding the exposed skin above your t-shirt, aka your collar bone. He licks on it too, you feel like you are entering heaven. When he stops, he lets go of your neck and sits up. “Does he do that?” He asks, this time his voice becomes a little hoarse as he speaks.

You shake your head slowly. You can't stop staring into his eyes. He looks like a cat, but only just a tiny bit. You swallow, finding it hard to speak. Also, you are sure your whole face is red at this point.

“Nicho” you whisper, or whine when you feel his hands on your hips, ready to get you out of your t-shirt. 

He stops immediately and looks at you.

You shake your head steadily, a kind of disappointment in your eyes when you remember Harua's words from the airport earlier, and also Nicholas's, which confirmed the theories. “I don't want to be one of your girls” you say, voice cracking by the time you finish the sentence. “I'm not like that”

He drops his gaze, jaw clenching in frustration. You could see the way thoughts clouded his mind all of a sudden. “Y/n… you wouldn't be just one of my girls” he says, his voice being soft again.

You feel your stomach drop at that, but looking into his eyes you could see that he was telling you the truth. He was being honest and vulnerable, and you found yourself bobbing your head and insisting him to continue. 

Nicholas takes off your shirt in no time, and his eyes drop to your chest immediately. His eyes were filled with hunger, and he shifts and gets on his knees so he can undo your bra too. While he reaches behind your back, you run your eyes through his shoulders and neck, and you sniff him slightly. Nicholas always smells so good, you already noticed that on the first week when you went to his house for surfing lessons. He always wears the same cologne, seems like he knows what he likes and sticks with it.

When he drops your bra to the floor, he backs up again, looking at your freed titties with admiration in his eyes. Then without a warning he lowers his head and sucks on your right nipple. You arch your back at the sudden friction, letting out a breathy moan. His lips wrap around your hard nipple, sucking your titty in as much as he can while he cups the other one softly with his other hand. He massages it, but he's subtle with it. His mouth may be a little aggressive and hungry, but he's a whole other person with his hands. Nicholas for sure knows how to please a woman. “Fuck, y/n, you have the most perfect tits I ever seen” he mumbles, and you feel the vibration in his voice in your whole body.

You close your eyes, sinking in the amazing feeling. Your tit is now fully covered in his hot saliva. When he looks up, his mouth is plump and wet, and it makes your thighs clench together in desperation. 

His eyes are hazy when he asks, “Does…does he do this?” 

“No” you moan out when his other hand cups your other breast too, massaging both at the same time.

You straighten your legs, so now he's kneeling between them. 

“Open your eyes” he commands with a firm voice when he sees your head being thrown back onto the edge of the bed, getting lost in the feeling of his big palms on your tits. You obey him again, opening your eyes just to face him possessively looking down at you.

He lets go of your breasts, and you want to cry out at the loss of his hands. At the same time, you are glad you have time to catch your breath. Not too much though, because he shifts back so he can lower his head to kiss on your stomach, just right under your chest. 

You let out a moan, hands finding his hair again. He licks the spot he kissed, then starts to make a path of saliva with his tongue, going down back to the edge of your sweatpants.

“Babe” he whispers, and you are very near to losing your mind. You look down at him, finding him looking up at you while his mouth hovers above your pants. “Can you lay on the bed, pretty please?” 

He doesn't have to say it twice. You stand up while he stays kneeling on the same spot. Nicholas watches you lay on the bed, head now thrown back against the wall. You spread your legs slightly, teasing him.

He looks even more mesmerizing in the dim light, now that the sun almost fully went down and the only light was a reading light of a standing lamp next to his bed. Clouds were filling the sky, dark clouds. You could hear a few droplets of rain knock on the roof, and there wasn't much light coming in from outside, only the sound of rain and wind.

He smirks at you and puts his elbows next to your body to cage your lower half while he licks on your stomach again, earning a satisfied whimper from you. Nicholas hooks his fingers onto your pants and pulls it down, hinting small kisses at the edge of your lacy panties now. 

You feel your wetness between your thighs, and you are sure he also noticed it. He goes lower, and you watch as he presses his lips to the wet patch forming on your panties. You shift your body lower, pushing yourself to his face more and more. His tongue works fast, and you already see stars even though he only started just now, though a fabric. 

That part kind of feels ridiculous. 

He moves back, breathing heavily as his eyes never leave your core. He pulls down your panties with one move, revealing your aching core. “Please” you mutter, your voice barely even audible but he still hears it and smirks.

He eyes your wet pussy, your juices already dripping down on your folds. “All wet for me, hm?” Nicholas hums, satisfied with the view. 

He hovers closer, his nose bumping onto your clit teasingly. “Have you ever been this wet for him, jagiya?”

“Never” You breathe out, trying to restrain yourself from moaning, but your chest rising then falling heavily betrays you.

Nicholas finally gives your aching core a lick, looking up to see your reaction. Your head flies back, eyes closing in pleasure. A guttural moan leaves your mouth as his hot tongue darts out again, slowly licking you from your hole to your clit. When you look down, you are faced with those pretty eyes that you have been admiring ever since you first saw them.

You never thought you would see them in a kind of situation like this ever, but the fantasy was always hiding in the back of your mind. Now that it finally happened, you could admit that they were an even better sight than you imagined.

“Fuck, Nicholas” you mumble as he gives you another lick, now getting deeper. His nose bumps onto your clit with every lick, but his eyes never leave yours. “Your eyes… they're so pretty”

He sucks on your clit, and your thighs are beginning to tremble. You try to close them, caging his head between your legs, but he stops them and sets them down on the bed with a firm movement, nails digging into your skin.

Nicholas sucks on your folds, and you can't do anything else other than letting the sounds escape you, and letting your hands run through his strawberry hair. You grind on his face when he shoves his tongue inside of you. He stops the movements with his head as you start grinding, riding his tongue in a steady rhythm. 

You already could feel your orgasm getting closer, Nicholas being able to take you to your climax with only his tongue kinda surprising you. But before that could happen, he pulls out of you with his tongue and smiles at you with that teethy smirk he always does. You whimper at the loss, prompting yourself on your forearms so you could see him better.

“You thought I’m going to make you come with my tongue, and that's all?” He asks, one eyebrow going up. 

You gulp, feeling your stomach knotting. 

“If that's the case, you were wrong” he laughs, looking up and down your naked body. “I'm taking my time. If the thing you said is true, you were never really pleased” he grabs your hips, pulling you down from the bed onto his lap. “You deserve to know how good it feels like” you put your hands on his shoulders, and he looks up at you.

All this time, this was the first moment you truly felt conscious about how exposed you were, while he had all of his clothes on still. “What do you mean?” you ask, voice low. 

“You know what I mean” he teases, vaguely rolling his hips — still in his sweatpants — upwards, so you could feel his hard bulge with your bare pussy. 

He looks down at your chest, looking at your breasts like they're the best things he has ever seen in his life. “Jagiya, I always wanted to do this. Since the moment I saw you” he admits, pinching your nipple with two of his fingers, making you hiss. 

He bites down his lips, grinding up again. “Fuck” he cusses before he gestures you to get off of him. You do as quickly as possible, and he takes off his shirt. Your eyes fall on his toned chest, it's not like you haven't seen it before during lessons, but seeing it like this was way different. You would admire it, but then he takes off his sweatpants with his boxers too. 

You gulp again, your throat getting dry at the sight all of a sudden. He isn't that big, I would rather say average. 

But still, this is like your… second time with a man, and you haven't seen cock in a long time, which was kinda embarrassing. Nicholas didn't look bothered in any way, though.

He looks at you and gives his cock a few strokes before asking “Missionary or cowgirl?”

Your eyebrows shoot up at the sudden question. “What?”

“Whatever, just come here” he urges, pulling you back onto his lap by your hips. 

When he sees the hesitation on your face, he lets go of you “Is everything okay? We don't have to do it if you are not ready” 

You melt internally at his sweetness, the constant checks up making you shy. But you would never miss out on this opportunity. Ever. “I'm okay I just… I haven't done it in a long time” you let out an awkward giggle at the confession, but he still doesn't back up.

“It's okay” he says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear “I will be gentle”

You nod, feeling way better now. You bite down your lower lip when you sink down on his cock, grabbing onto his shoulders with both of your hands. He lays against his bed on the floor, this time he is the one who throws his head back. 

He clearly tries with all of his strength to not move and fuck into you, and you pretty much appreciate that. You try to get adjusted to his length when you fully sink down, taking deep breaths.

“Are you… are you alright?” he asks, voice shaky. 

You bob your head heavily, letting out a whine “Shit, yes, yes I am”

When he sees you calming down a little bit, he begins to move, grabbing onto your hips while he vaguely grinds up, rolling his hips into you.

You let out a small moan, burying your head onto the crook of his neck, your bodies melting onto each other. 

Your chest is pressed against his, nipples still rock hard. He sets a steady rhythm. Sometimes he gets out of his tempo and fucks just a little too hard, but then reminds himself that he has to be soft with you. And he keeps his promise, he is gentle. 

“Fuck, you are so tight” he grumbles out, collapsing onto you as his rhythm gets fucked up again. He fucks deep into you, feeling every inch of your wet pussy around him. He hits your spot with every move too, giving you a feeling you never felt before.

You can't even say anything, your mouth just hangs open while messy moans leave it. You throw your head back, and when you clench around him, he whimpers. 

He lets out small cries amongst his high pitched moans, and you grab him by his hair to tilt his head back and look into his eyes. “Are you crying?” you ask.

He doesn't answer, just frowns with his lips as he lets out a muffled moan again, looking away from you. But you tilt his head back again, grabbing him by his neck and keeping him like that so he can look at you. He speeds up a little bit, but still keeping it gentle while he is feeling you up, you being on his lap, bouncing on him so perfectly. “Does EJ do this? Hm?” he breathes, and you answer with a loud moan as you shake your head.

You look into each other's eyes as you hold him down by his thigh to gesture to him to stop. He stops immediately, breathing heavily. You run your hands on his chest, then on his worked out abs. You lift yourself then drop down on his cock again, making him cuss and grunt. 

“Do that again, jagiya, please” he begs, and you redo your movements from before. You speed up after a few messy ups and downs, earning him to moan out your name multiple times as you ride him.

When he gets used to the rhythm of you using his cock, he kisses your collarbone again, then moves to your neck to suck on it and leave marks all over it. You don't deny it.

“Fuck, I’m close” he mumbles and whimpers again, looking up at you, then down on your chest, seeing the way your tits bounce every time you lift yourself then sink down again. He was enjoying being used like this, he bites down his bottom lip hungrily. He grabs you by your hips and sets you down on the floor suddenly, trapping you by putting both of his hands next to your head while he's still inside of you. 

He rolls his hips, his balls tapping against your wetness every time he bottoms out. “I would never hurt you, y/n” he admits vulnerably, his breath caressing your neck. Your body moves up and down on the floor, feeling the roughness of the rug on your back. It's going to burn later. 

“If you stay with me” he continues “I will never treat you like that— fuck—” he cusses, moving his hands to your hips and digging his nails into your skin as he lifts you up a little bit so he can get deeper in, a better position for both of you.

“Can I…can I come inside you, pretty baby?” he asks you suddenly.

You nod your head, looking up at him with a hazy gaze, observing the way one strand of his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He looks down at you when he reaches his climax, giving you a deep and slow last thrust that makes you arch your back. He crumbles onto you, head burying onto the crook of your neck. 

You feel his delicate cum filling you up, covering your walls. The thought makes you come too, your juices mixing together. 

You stay like that laying down a little more, your bodies hugging. Then, after a few minutes of gathering yourself together, he pulls out of you and sits down back against his bed. You get up too, legs trembling when you drop down next to him on the floor, head against the edge of his bed while you both face the ceiling.

Nicholas looks at you with hazy eyes, like his mind is filled with multiple different thoughts at the same time and he can't decide which one to voice out first. 

You reach out your hand, wiping a tear from his cheek. 

He cringes and drops his gaze to the floor, feeling embarrassed by begging and crying to you. 

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, tilting your head.

He looks up at you again, swallowing hard before he milks the words out of himself. “Do you still want to be with him?” he asks, and your eyebrows shot up “I mean, after this”

For a moment, your mind wanders. Did he do all of this to impress you? Because as much as you have a whole damn boyfriend, it might have worked. Then, you remember that your boyfriend is actually a dickhead and you would leave him anytime.

“I don't want to be with him at all,” you reply, shaking your head.

Nicholas straightens his back and looks at you with sparking eyes and a huge smile on his face. “Great. Tell him that you guys are done, and I’ll eat you out again”

You laugh at his suggestion, but deep down you know you would and will do it “Woah, all of a sudden?”

He knits his eyebrows together, like he was confused by your answer. “Yeah? Why not?”

“Over call?”

“No, over text. He was always a dickhead, wasn't he? He deserves it” Nicholas says and reaches up, caressing your face softly. “Right now” he adds.

You roll your eyes playfully before getting up to walk over to your bag and get your phone out. His eyes never leave your curvy body as you stand up, admiring you the whole time.

You quickly type the text onto the chats between you and EJ, but you don't send it yet. Nicholas sees you hesitating, and he pulls you by your ankle, gesturing to get back down on the floor.

He watches your screen when you sit down back to him closely. 

“I don't know what to write,” you sigh.

He shrugs, just wanting this to be over as soon as possible “I feel like you should tell him everything. Tell him that he's an asshole and that you don't want to be with him anymore. Oh, and that you love me” 

He smirks, and you shove him away by his shoulder playfully, but you still type in what he said. Most of the things. 

After a while, you form your text and send it to EJ, but then Nicholas offers to put the phone down. So you two end up talking about whatever, mostly your upcoming plans for the next few days. 

You two decide that it's for the best if you don't tell Maki and Harua right away, and maybe you should try living together for a while. EJ won't leave the house you two bought in Hawaii, and you don't have anywhere else to go. Plus, you have been spending almost all of your days by Nicholas's house, so it's not going to make a difference. 

Now he went to take a shower, and you are sitting by the window sill (dressed up now), watching the rain falling down into the dark night. 

You wonder about a lot of things, firstly about the upcoming days. You never thought Hawaii could bring you so many new opportunities for new starts, in so many ways. You are also not sure if your therapist will like to hear about this whole thing, but that's his problem.

There's one thing that you are sure about: you are happier than ever. You like Nicholas, and just because at first it looked like it was something forbidden, it doesn't mean it can't be fun at the end.

💌 : @trust-me-youll-like-it @cheolscherries1812

you might have pushed him too far this time.

euijoo is usually a professional at brushing off the jokes you make about his arguably less than impressive sex life. and by that, youre not even sure it exists at all. you've been friends for years, but you have never heard him brag about an "eventful" night, even when you've done more than your fair share of explicit storytimes. he's always a listening ear, no matter how red hearing your encounters makes the top of his.

when you'd went on vacation together in the past, the two of you have to spend a week apart afterward just to preserve the friendship you've crafted. you're just so annoying. but he loves it, way more than he'd care to admit. you once spent a week on a woodland retreat, traveling sun up to sun down with a group of very dedicated hikers. up hill. down hill. even sideways on the hill, like goats.

"can you please shut the hell up about bigfoot?" euijoo had yelled over his shoulder on the last day of the trip. you had to shamefully lower your hand and relax your shocked face, having just claimed your ninth bigfoot sighting of the week. the entire group turned to look at you, and euijoo didnt speak the rest of the hike. he made you food over your campfire, though, while you were cramming a quick nap before the final evening hike. your calves hurt more than your relationship, thankfully.

when you went anywhere, you found a bit to commit to for the duration of the trip and waited to see how long it would take euijoo to break. the first day of a trip was always the most fun, the two of you in a new place. you love his smile, and he was always painfully enthusiastic within 24 hours of the plane landing or the hotel door clicking closed. he would drag you to all the destinations you'd marked on the map with his digital camera slipped into his pocket. around the fourth day, however, he was drained. and after the fifth, he began to huff, cast irritated glances your way, and, occasionally, ask if you knew how to be quiet. from the sixth day on, you were playing with fire.

this time, you and euijoo had decided on a beach holiday. you've never been anywhere actually relaxing together, usually opting for near death or financially detrimental experiences. you thought it might be fun to lay around on a towel reading shitty romance, build sand castles, get sun poisoning- the works. so, you booked a room at a beachfront resort, adults only and all inclusive with a full breakfast bar. and you decided what bit you'd be fully committing to, even before you arrived at the hotel:

you were gonna get euijoo laid.

it would be just like love island, you thought. or assumed, since you've never actually seen it. but your best friend, who is by and large considered handsome, would be surrounded by gorgeous adult women in tiny bikinis, gleaming under stark sunlight all day long, lingering by the bar desperate for a drink that euijoo could definitely order for them. you'd even tell him what drinks girls like, in a grossly stereotyping sense.

you considered it a favor. he had a girlfriend once, when the two of you first met. you'd had some classes with her at your university but met euijoo by completely unrelated circumstance. you had taken his drink at a local cafe by accident, despite his name being written on the side of the cup in thick black marker.

"wait, your name is euijoo?" you had stared at him with wide eyes. he could only nod, face blank, as you lied to him through your teeth, "my name is euijoo, too. small world, huh?"

euijoo was hooked on you ever since, spending so much time with you at arcades and poetry readings and movie nights that his girlfriend called it quits. you became close incredibly fast. it was so easy to forget about time with him, though. the years went by so quickly, only slowing down the one week a year you isolated yourselves together and you pushed him to emotional limits he didnt even know he had.

the resort was fancy but not flashy, which was good since neither of you really looked like you belonged there. euijoo had a stupid floppy hat on, and you had forgotten to take off your sunglasses inside, the giant lenses eclipsing your entire face. the hotel receptionist was visibly reluctant to hand over your room key as if the two of you were obviously responsible adults capable of maintaining order in her establishment. when she finally handed it over to euijoo, he flashed her a genuine smile that moved his cheeks and all.

"she was cute," you said as euijoo yanked his suitcase over the elevator floor gap. you pressed your floor number, feeling his confused stare chiseling into the side of your face. she was cute, round hazel eyes and freckled cheeks. she had a friendly face, just like him.

euijoo shifted on his feet, "do you, uh, want her number? i can go back and get it for you."

he moved to press the lobby button, and you swatted his hand away. as he hissed, shaking his barely burning wrist, you insisted, "no, dumbass, for you. shes cute for you."

"for me?" his eyebrows turned up in the middle, furrowing like you'd just told him he won a raffle he never entered. his lips parted slightly, one long finger pointed into his chest.

and he kept this act up for days, playing dumb every time you tried to get him to ask someone out. "juju, she's hot," was met with, "well, the sun is out." every "you should offer her a drink" warranted an "alcohol speeds up dehydration." he was such a fucking gentleman. it made you sick.

at one point, you purposefully sat in a lounge chair on the very end of the row at the hotel pool, leaving euijoo to sit in the one between you and a very, very attractive lady. even you considered testing the waters if he ended up tanking his chances.

"hi, hi. sorry to bother you," you had sat up after twenty minutes of brainstorming and sunbathing, leaning over euijoo to get into the woman's hearing range. he audibly gulped, suddenly aware of what angle you were playing. he caught on pretty quickly. you lifted a hand just as she turned to face you and stuck it right in euijoo's hair, ruffling it, "my friend here thinks youre very beautiful. isnt that right, euijoo?"

"hm, what?" he sat up quickly from his relaxed pose on the lounger, swiping your hand from his head and shooting you a sideways glance. the woman peered at him from behind her sunglasses, watching as he searched for a response to your question, his mouth opening and closing, opening and closing until he landed on, "oh, yes! i said your hair was beautiful. its, uh, very... healthy. yeah, great hair."

he then gave her the saddest thumbs up you've ever seen, crooked and weary, and stood up from his seat, pattering away on the wet concrete. the woman watched him the whole way back to the hotel entrance, combing an absent hand through her loose, healthy curls. you sighed, "i guess i misheard him. you are beautiful, though."

"what exactly are you trying to do?" euijoo was sitting, slouched over on the edge of his bed when you returned a couple hours later. he had changed from his swim shorts and tank top into something more casual, comfy. you only noticed because you'd bought him that tshirt for his birthday last year.

"nice shirt," you laughed as you hopped up onto the edge of your own mattress parallel to him, letting your legs dangle in the space between you. he lifted his gaze from the floor to your face, dark brown eyes scanning for something you werent quite aware of. euijoo didnt smile, and you felt yourself grow sharp under his watch, "whats up with you? why are you being weird?"

"im being weird?" he breathed a laugh this time, tilting his head at you in a way that had his tousled hair swiping over his eyes. he flicked it away, absentmindedly, "interesting, since all youve done this week is try to hook me up with strangers. is that not weird to you?"

you were speechless, opening your mouth only for nothing to come out. it was day four, but you'd never pushed him this far. and it was entirely unintentional. you knew he hated the bigfoot jokes. you knew he hated when you made him do the same pose at every tourist attraction. you knew he hated your collection of tacky shot glasses you just had to buy at every souvenir shop. but this- he had never acknowledged your behavior in this way.

"is it weird for me to want my best friend to have a little fun?" you asked, gauging his reaction, which- spoiler- was not positive.

"im trying to have fun," he stressed, crossing his arms and sliding off the bed to stand, "with you. on our vacation. but you keep trying to pawn me off!"

"euijoo, i just swear to god youve not had sex with anybody in like five years. cant you, like, die from that? did i make that up?" you rubbed your eyes in thought. when you opened them, everything was blurred but the annoyance on euijoos face. like youd crossed a boundary you didnt know hed set. he scoffed, shaking his head. you added, "i thought i was helping!"

there was a beat of silence, thick and palpable.

"i just wanted to be with you," he sighed, sitting on the bed again but on the opposite side, his back facing you. you saw him take a deep breath before laying down, stretching out over the length of the bed. he mumbled, "just forget it."

you swallowed the lump in your throat and stretched out, too, on your own bed. you curled into your side, watching his chest rise and fall. his eyes fluttered closed, but you knew he wasnt sleeping. you let the silence dissipate, the air conditioning unit in the corner rumbling as the crisp air blows through the curtains.

"uh," you cleared your throat after what felt like hours of silence but you knew was closer to twenty minutes, "we have that, um, scuba lesson in a bit... that we did pay for. just by the way."

the scuba lesson seemed like a great way to get your "experience" fill for this trip, and euijoo had always talked about wanting to explore the reef or swim with dolphins. the passes werent that expensive on their own, but you'd pre-rented the gear.

euijoo didnt turn his head to look at you and, instead, just spoke to the ceiling like he didnt care if you heard it or not. "go without me," he said, "you'll just try to set me up with the instructor, anyway."

you were able to refund the rental fee for the gear, but you wished you'd have just refunded the whole lesson. floating around in spandex was a lot less fun alone, you'd realized. the whole lesson was weirdly intimate without euijoo there, just you and the instructor, who wasnt even hot. you wondered whether to tell euijoo that detail or just leave it alone. you wondered whether to tell him anything at all.

he didnt give you much of a choice, though. when you got back, he was no longer on his bed. or in the room. it was like he was never there save for the open suitcase kicked under a table, his comfy clothes from earlier strung haphazardly over the edge of the case.

you were thankful that you had upgraded your room when you booked, specifically for the two beds and larger bathroom. too many times had the two of you crammed into one bed or taken a piss while the other was brushing their teeth. the other benefit of the upgraded room: private access to a courtyard shared among the four private suites in your wing, which included a small pool, lawn games like giant chess, a self-serve bar, and a hot tub.

now, you're looking through the slatted blinds on your room's patio door, scouring the dimly lit courtyard for any sign of him. of course, the sun has set since you returned from your suddenly personal scuba lesson. the dew cast a fog on the glass panes, additional clouds growing and dissolving from your breath as you press your forehead to the door. in the corner of the yard, you see a faint glow, pulsating in the dimming twilight.

when you approach the hot tub, euijoo looks tranquil, almost blissful. his head is tipped back, eyes sewn shut as the water laps at his bare torso. the waves from the jets cast swirling reflections on his skin, everywhere. you're almost close enough to step into the water when you hesitate, stopping, considering leaving him alone and just going to bed. his eyes open, but hes not shocked to see you. he doesnt even jump, just pulls his lips into a small smile.

"come on in," euijoo nods to the space across from him, watching your every move. despite his kindness, you cant help but feel like he's analyzing you, waiting for you to say something stupid again. "how was diving?"

"humiliating," you sigh as you sink into the water. euijoos head is tipped down, chin tucked and watching you from under heavy lids. you can't deny how cold the water feels on your skin, unfamiliar warmth dancing up your arms, your chest. your neck. "i mean, i was a pro, as you can imagine. but the whole thing was... lonely."

euijoo hums to suppress a laugh. he does this often, not wanting to encourage your antics, but you can always see the little glint of humor in his eyes. usually, the smile would break loose. he'd let a laugh loose and pretend it never happened. but now, hes bittersweet, regretful. he takes a deep breath.

"i should've went with you," he says, stopping to chew at the inside of his cheek, "i was being a dick."

"yeah," you deadpan, and he looks at you with sorrowful eyes before you kick your leg up out of the water, splashing him. his hands come up defensively to shield his face, water running down his forearms. he laughs, flipping his hand over the surface to send a spray of water toward you, instead. you continue, "but so was i. i shouldn't have assumed you were interested in sex."

euijoo smiles, softly, at your attempt at an apology. that might be the best he's gonna get, and he can't stay mad at you for long. he opens up his arms, nodding his head to the side, "come here."

and as you scoot along the edge of the hot tub, you can see just how flushed his face is from the heat. droplets of water cascade down his cheek, dripping from his jaw. his shoulders glisten with a sheen of sweat, but his skin is cold when you rest your cheek on it. euijoo wraps his arm around the side of your neck, pulling you close. it should be disgustingly sticky, but it isnt. it's nice.

it's too nice, too comfortable. you'd even call it perfect, the fit of his arm over your shoulder, his skin against yours. euijoo's chest rises and falls in your periphery, the swelling of his lungs matching the ever choppy bubbling of the water. he grows rigid against you, shifting in his seat on the hot tub's bench.

suddenly, euijoo pulls his arm from around you. he folds his arms firmly over his chest, sighing deeply before clearing his throat. you retreat from your position, uncurling from his side and turning in your seat to face him. your brows furrow, "whats up with you all the sudden?"

euijoo's eyes scan everywhere but your face, finding something interesting on the side of the hotel wall, maybe a curtain blowing in a window seven floors above. he sputters out a tragedy of an excuse, "you're- its the, um, the..." he shrugs, performatively wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, "hot tub. its... so hot."

"oh, are you okay? do you need some water?" you reach out to feel his forehead, too, but he swats your hand away, shifting his body away from you.

"no!" his eyes widen, "i mean, yes, im okay. no on the water. just-"

"well, do you want to get out? we can watch a movie or something?"

"no," slower, after a visible gulp, euijoo says, "i cant."

you can barely hear him over the turbulent waves. the water around you gurgles over itself, sloshing out of the jets on your back and on the floor. columns of water billow up, wafting the burning scent of chlorine into the air. he cant? why wouldn't he be able to watch a movie with you? does he suddenly hate movies?

then, it clicks.

you reach behind his head, and, with a quick tap of a button on the tub's control panel, disable the jets altogether. the water goes still, leftover bubbles disappearing with a soft fizz. it's unnaturally quiet without the roar of the water pump or the disrupting slosh of waves on the plastic siding. theres nothing but the sound of euijoo's heart beating out of his chest and the choked gasp that leaves his mouth once he realizes what youve done.

"no fucking way," you mutter, half astonished and half teetering on a feeling you've been too scared to acknowledge for a long time, "byun euijoo, are you seriously hard right now?"

he rears his arm back and presses every button on the tub's control panel in search of the magic switch to turn the jets on and, hopefully, make everything stop. as soon as he presses it, you press it again. he presses it. you press it. back and forth and back and forth until he buries his face in his hand and groans, "please, just go inside. forget everything. forget about me. let me die here."

"don't be embarrassed, juju," you laugh, gently grabbing his wrists and pulling his hands away from his flushed face. as you lower them to the water, his eyes never leave the place where your fingers wrap around his. his expression is a mix of confusion and humiliation, chased by a rush of curiosity at your tender reaction. "i could go away. i could just go to bed."

youre sure he can see the ideas bounding in your head, bouncing from one side of your skull to the other and skipping all the zones in your brain that would tell you that this is a bad idea. its situations like these that should exist only as hypotheticals, like a fever dream just as its about to break. or a one-time daydream scenario after a hangout where he looked a little too good. maybe he wore that sweater you liked, let his jeans hang a little too low on his hips. but you had gotten very good at separating your feelings from the reality that euijoo is your best friend and could never be anything more. at least, he never showed it. not until now, having skipped all the casual flirting or cheesy pickup lines and went straight to business. straight to driving you crazy all week with his perfect, sunkissed skin and slender fingers massaging sunscreen along your spine, working lower and lower, dipping under your swimsuit bottoms just in case.

"or," you guide his wrist until his hand is cupping the side of your neck, his damp fingers instinctively threading into your hair behind your ear. you whisper, "or, i could stay."

his touch is gentle, like hes afraid he'll do something he'll regret. you're scared, too, but you inhale, chlorine rushing to your head. when you exhale, you bring your own palm and place it over his, encouraging him to please touch you. you continue, "you know, i think i understand why you didnt care about the receptionist, or that woman at the pool, or at the bar."

euijoo hums, finally heeding your silent plea and sinking his fingers deeper into your hair. he tilts your head gently as you speak, following the movement with his own head, mirroring you. his lips part, only slightly and only once youre done speaking. "you do?"

"mhm," you let him puppeteer you, letting the weight of your head fall into his firm grasp as he cranes your neck backward, exposing the front of your throat, and then back to the side, swiping his thumb under your jaw, "but i wanna hear you say it. wanna know for sure."

euijoo whines, softly, and you feel it go right to your stomach, heat pooling in your veins. you clench your thighs together, absentmindedly, as he swallows the rest of whatever sounds were threatening to spill from his mouth. you feel his hand shaking against your neck, and you reach up again to hold him, steady him. you move your other hand under the water in search of his free hand, pulling it closer to rest on your thigh. euijoo squeezes your leg, just once, and releases a shaky breath, "they're not you."

euijoo sucks a sharp breath in through his teeth as you lean further into his hold and press your lips to the soft skin on the inside of his wrist. you feel on fire as you dart your tongue out, running it along the ridges of his veins. he tastes like chemicals and sweat but somehow sweet, like burning citrus.

"fuck, they're not you," he whispers to himself, fingers dragging, tentatively, up your thigh, "would you... would you like it if i kissed you?"

you pull your lips away from his hand just to laugh, quietly. you feel bad for the reaction, but he's just so desperate, nervous. your body moves before your mouth can, suddenly draping your legs over either side of his hips, his fingertips still digging into the flesh of your thigh. you keep yourself planted in the middle of his lap, careful to distance your core from where he obviously wants you.

you hover your lips over his, and its clear to you that euijoo is not breathing. his eyes are blown wide with an emotion you cant decipher as excitement or disbelief, and his chest is frozen in a perpetual inhale. as you speak, your bottom lip grazes his, "there's really only one way to find out, hm?"

the first kiss is curious, hesitant, as euijoo closes the short gap between you. his lips are plush, just as you expected and more. he brings his other hand from your thigh to the other side of your face, cupping it softly, and sighs into you. the trickle of water from his fingers that trails down your neck sends a chill through your body that completely contradicts the heat you feel from the water, from him. as he pulls away, you tug his bottom lip between your teeth, tethering the two of you together for just a second longer. euijoo whimpers, and you drink it all up as you release him from your teeth. you cant tell if his face is flush from the heat or embarrassment, growing shy under you in every aspect, physically and under your intense gaze that scans every crease and corner of his face. he smiles as you land on his eyes. you comb your hand through his hair, smoothing it away from his face the way you like it.

the second kiss is more of everything, swallowing his smile and his sounds. your mouths work purposefully against each other, as if to memorize the exact way his lips fit into you. its a deliberate exploration, teeth nipping, tongues melding and soothing. all while his hands slide, slowly, from your face down your body. euijoo's fingers ghost under your ribs, squeezing your hips in a silent encouragement. your fingers snake around his neck, tugging at the hairs at the nape of his neck.

"you're driving me fucking crazy," euijoo mumbles against your lips, digging his fingernails into the skin of your hips, "all ive ever wanted."

his confession strikes you, humming against him in acknowledgement. you dont know if you can ever stop kissing him, which, coincidentally, is the same reason you had avoided trying before. your friend group had played their fair share of party games, which almost always ended with then drunkenly pushing you and euijoo toward each other while shouting, "kiss! kiss! kiss!" but you'd laughed it off thinking euijoo would never want risk your friendship for something as childish as spin the bottle.

if you had known you'd be in his lap in a public hot tub sucking on his tongue, maybe you'd have tried it a bit sooner.

you involuntarily rock your hips forward, body in search of some friction, and when you brush against the bulge in his swim shorts, euijoo groans into your mouth, body jerking in surprise. you hum against his lips, gauging him. euijoo pulls you forward again, hands snaking from your hips around to your ass. you always admired his delicate hands, but now youre wondering just how rough he could be with them as you roll your hips one more time against him.

"fuck," you rest your forehead against his as his straining cock nudges your clothed clit, the muted friction building, "have you had a big dick this whole time and didnt tell me?"

"have you- shit- ever been s-serious a day in your life?" euijoo chokes out, balancing the sweetest smile and the most intense crease in his brow. you're only teasing him, but it's not much of a joke. earlier, the bubbles and the dim lighting of the courtyard and the optical illusion that is water only barely revealed his predicament to you. you couldn't really see it. but, now, you can feel it. long and slender and trapped.

"i wanna touch you," you confess, flicking your gaze from his face to the space where the two of you meet, watching his pupils blow, watching his hips jerk in anticipation, "would you like that, juju?"

if he wasnt completely at your mercy, a puddle beneath you, he would have definitely flipped you off for turning his own question against him. instead, euijoo just nods, hastily. like you'll change your mind about him. he nods, eagerly. like he's been waiting to let you have him.

you hook your fingers into the elastic waistband of his shorts, pulling them down just enough for his cock to bob free under the water. euijoo moans under his breath at the lack of restraint, but he yelps as you wrap your fingers around the base of it, squeezing gently, experimentally. euijoo screws his eyes shut, throwing his head back as you drag your hand all the way up his throbbing shaft, babbling curses and your name like you're killing him. he opens his eyes only to look around, checking the windows and doors of the other suites near you.

"scared of getting caught?" you twist your hand, sinking it back down along his velvet, honey veined skin before moving to press directly on the angry, pink head. euijoo whines, bucking up into your hand and biting the back of his hand to muffle his cries. you smooth over the tip with your thumb, "you dont want anyone to see how good you're being for me? or hear how pretty you sound, juju?"

you pull his hand away from his mouth with your free hand, "let them hear. tell them how good it feels, baby."

you increase your pace. euijoos eyes focus on the rippling water where your arm works him under the surface, your grip firm and natural like your hand was designed for him, like you were. his jaw is slack with pleasure, shivers sliding over his body every time you slow your movements, rocking your hips on his leg in a similar rhythm. he groans, "feels so good. s-so fucking good."

youd be lying if said you weren't the most turned on you've ever been in your life. every movement of your wrist disturbs the water, as well as the sloshing of the water between your torsos as you grind yourself onto his thigh. youre chasing your own high, although priority number one is to see what sounds euijoo makes when he comes. in your wettest dreams, he was a heavy breather, but you realize now that your mind could not have conjured his sweet mixture of sinful mewls, husky groans, and breathy moans. and thats only what he has let you hear, still holding himself back for the sake of privacy. you'd hate to be seen, to have an outsider ruin this perfect moment. at the same time, however, the thrill of being caught tempts you to draw this out as long as possible.

"im gonna come," euijoo pants under you as you attach your lips to the column of his exposed throat, savoring the chlorinated citrus flavor of his skin, "fuck- i dont wanna come in the water. thats so gross."

you worked your lips up to his ear, slowing your wrist and nipping at his earlobe with your teeth. you whisper, "then come inside me, euijoo."

when you pull back, he's scanning your face for a semblance of humor, as if it were a joke. but you've never been more serious. this is the first time, probably ever, that you've been completely serious on a trip with him. you nod, just to reassure him as you continue ferociously milking his cock, pumping him.

"god, okay, okay," he gives in, breathless. his hair has fallen back into his face, obscuring your sight of his full pupils and glassy eyes, "i'd love to come inside of you. cant believe im even saying that- fuck."

you watch him, even more carefully now. he's beautiful in a way you've noticed before but struggled to put into words. you're sure he has ruined you for everyone else as you study the pulsing vein in his neck and the bobbing lump in his throat. just as his whines get shorter, breathing ragged and hoarse, you inch your throbbing core closer to his cock. you move your swimsuit bottoms out of the way and nudge your entrace with his tip. euijoo releases his hold on your hips so as to not slam you down and fuck you senseless, letting you control the moment, go at your pace. unfortunately for him. instead, he connects your lips in a tender kiss, licking into your mouth and stifling your moans.

the stretch is welcome, eagerly anticipated. but the water perpetuates a burning friction as you suck him in. you sigh into him as you feel the tip of him drag all along your walls. you clench, adjusting to his length as you steady yourself on his shoulders.

"ah-" euijoo gasps into your mouth, breaking free from the kiss and burying his face in your neck. he rests his forehead on your shoulder as his body tenses, snaking his arms around your waist, "coming. fuck, i-im-"

the warmth spreads low inside of you as he releases, burning white ropes plugged deep by his twitching, spent cock. euijoo comes with a silent, choked groan, followed by a sweet series of high-pitched, exasperated whimpers. you coax every sound you can from him, clenching around him, rolling your hips, and dragging your nails down his back. you allow him to just exist for a moment, connected to you in every way. his arms are still wrapped tightly around your waist, hands splayed over the expanse of your back. his heavy breathing fans over your chest, hot and slowing. his dick is still buried inside of you, now soft.

"euijoo," you say, stroking the back of his hair, "can you look at me, please?"

"not yet," he mumbles into your skin, "i'm thinking."

"thinking?" you roll the word around in your mouth a few times, walking your fingers up and down his spine, "did i fuck some sense into you?"

euijoo laughs, this time aloud. his shoulders rack under your touch. you cant help but smile as he sits up, finally, and leans back against the side of the hot tub, "wow. im literally still inside of you and you've managed to insult me. thats gotta be a new record."

youre going to see this every time you close your eyes: euijoo, fucked out and glowing, with faint bruises and pink marks up the column of his throat. you dont even care that youre staring. evidently, you didn't offend him too much, since you feel his cock begin to grow hard inside of you again. he likes it, you realize.

euijoo draws you closer, connecting your lips for one final and chaste kiss. his plump, swollen lips turn up in a smile against you. but when you pull away, he looks perplexed, like he's just remembered something. "really quick, then we can go in."

"okay," you shift uncomfortably on his lap, anxiously awaiting what could be literally anything. it's difficult to tell with euijoo. this could be anything from a sex critique to an addition to tomorrow's vacation initerary, "im all ears."

"earlier," euijoo starts, innocently scanning your face, "you said that you were sorry for playing matchmaker because you didnt know i 'wasnt interested in sex.' and, well, i just-"

"nope," you stand up from your position on his lap, quickly adjusting your bottoms to prevent any of his cum to drip into the water. you resist the urge to whine at the loss of fullness, suddenly empty as you wade out of the tub. however, you are not about to let him get the last a-ha moment, especially when youre full of his cum and still waiting on your own orgasm, "you know exactly what i meant by that."

euijoo cranes his head to follow you as you retreat back to the room, projecting his voice a little too loud, "i am interested in sex, just by the way."

taglist

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.

“hey. 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, 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.

"no. 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?”

“mhm. i don't care if you're good at this. you just have to want me.”

“…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 follow my lead, 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. “because neither do i.”

"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, 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 did amazing."

you slither around to face him, then melt into his chest. his embrace is warm and strong and sweeter than you expected.

"just want to make sure" his arms tighten around you again like he has absolutely no intention of letting go anytime soon.

you glance up at him, amused.

“you know this isn’t a one-time thing, right?”

he blinks. “…you’d really want that?”

you smile softly. “don’t make me repeat myself.”

Everything pointed to a great movie night.

The first Scream movie fired up on the TV, the comfiest blankets and cushions set up on the couch, the warmest, butteriest popcorn fresh out the microwave, steaming hot and salty.

You took the bowl to the couch in the living room, turning off the lights to the adjacent kitchen to enjoy the horror movie in the dark like god intended, and settled into the warm fuzziness of the blankets. The title card blared on the TV screen as you slipped the first piece of popcorn into your mouth, the flavour spreading across your tongue as the opening sequence played.

Eerily similar to you, Drew Barrymore was firing up some popcorn to watch a movie. Not so similar to you, her popcorn making experience was cut short by a random man calling her landline, taunting her with threatening conversation, before chasing her around her house and killing her. 

You smiled as the opening credits rolled. The original Scream was a favourite of yours to watch when you needed a rush in your veins. Although now, with the amount of times you’d seen it, the scares had lost their sharp edge. Each kill made you smile in fond nostalgia for the time you watched for the first time and fell in love with the genre of horror. The thrill the suspenseful music evoked as it peaked and waned, only to peak again in a jumpscare that made your heart skip a beat. 

The movie was a quieter part when you felt your phone ring from underneath the blankets. Assuming it was a call from a friend or your boyfriend, you paused the movie and fished it from its fabric prison. You missed the critically low battery notification, too focused on the fact it was an unknown number.

No funny nickname or inside joke, just a string of numbers that could’ve been anyone. Certainly not someone you knew. But for whatever reason, you accepted the call. You could probably have some fun with this. Kill some time, maybe even prank someone.

You held the phone to your ear.

Silence. Or, almost silence.

The person on the other end of the call was just breathing heavily. 

The first few seconds, there was nothing.

“Hello?” 

Still nothing, just heaving breath.

“Hello?” you repeated.

The seconds dragged on. Still nothing. You were about to hang up and go back to your movie when-

“Hello.” The voice was deep. Dark. 

“Who is this?” You asked.

“Who is this?” The caller asked back, a teasing lilt in their voice.

“How am I supposed to know who you are?”

“I don’t know.”

The call fell to silence.

“Hm. I may have dialed the wrong number.”

“You probably did. It happens. See ya.” You cut the call off and threw your phone a little way away from you on the blankets.

It wasn’t ten seconds before your phone buzzed again. You groaned, stretching to reach it, to find the same string of numbers on the screen. Again, for some unknown reason, you answered.

“Hello?”

“Oh. Sorry, I must’ve dialed the wrong number again.” The voice didn’t sound the least bit sorry.

“Why’d you do it again then?”

“Probably an accident. My fingers are a little big.”

That was weird information. Still, he spoke again.

“Am I forgiven?”

“I guess? Have a nice night now.”

“Wait!”

He sounded like they really wanted to talk with you.

“Yes what? I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“Oh, cool? Which one?”

“Scream. The original one.”

“Oh yeah, that’s the one with the weird dudes in those ghost masks right?”

“Yeah, ghostface.”

“That your favourite one?”

“Yeah, but what did you want to talk about? We don’t know each other.”

“I’d like to. You sound pretty.”

“Pretty.” However much you should be feeling creeped out by now was overshadowed by your confusion.

“Yeah, pretty. Cute, even.”

You forced out a laugh.

“So, you got a boyfriend?”

“Yes, I do. And he could beat your ass.”

“Oh, he couldn’t. And I’d be better.”

“Better at what?”

“Being your boyfriend.”

That made you splutter. “I don’t know your face or name, what makes you think-”

“I don’t know your name either, but I’m still looking at you.”

Your blood turned to ice. You frantically kicked off the blankets and ran to the window behind your sink, cursing the fact the blinds were broken and wouldn’t roll down.

“Your ass looks good in those shorts, cutie.”

“What the fuck?!”

“Now that’s no way to talk. Should I give you a lesson?”

“You need a lesson on how not to be a creepy perv!”

“I’ll enroll later, after I teach you something.”

You were getting annoyed. “You’re all talk.”

A deep chuckle. “I make good on my promises, cutie. The lesson will be a long and hard one, but it’ll be worth your while.” He placed emphasis on the words ‘long’ and ‘hard’, making it obvious what the ‘lesson’ would be.

“I’m hanging up now.” 

“Before you go”

You paused. 

“Look at the forest outside your kitchen. Properly.”

Your breath hitched. Slowly, you turned around and crept towards the window. Lo and behold, if you really focused your attention on the tree in the middle of the window, you could see a figure standing beside it in a black robe.

And a ghostface mask.

Your gasp was evident. The man on the other end chuckled again.

“See you soon cutie.”

The call ended, your phone choosing the perfect time to go flat.

“No! No, no, no, no…” you frantically tried to press the power button, to squeeze some juice out of your phone, but the phone screen remained as dark as the night outside. You looked up and raced to the window, trying to spot the man in the distance, but to no avail.

He was gone.

On the move.

Hunting you down to do god knows what to you.

Your house was new, modern enough that when you bought it the home phone hadn’t been working for years and no one had bothered to fix it due to being in the age of smartphone use. You kicked yourself for it now, the ancient thing somewhere in the garage collecting dust and leaving you with no way to call the police except to wait for your phone to charge.

You leaned over the sink in a panic, making sure the latch on the window was shut tight. It was, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other ways in. Thankfully the front door was just past the living room where your movie was still paused, so you ran over and twisted the doorknob. It was locked, thankfully. 

You ran upstairs, almost tripping over your own feet on the carpet to reach your bedroom. There were three windows upstairs that could be used to potentially break in. One in your bedroom, another in the upstairs bathroom, and one in the guest bedroom. You quickly fished out your phone changer from the crack behind your bed and plugged it in, but there was no time to sit and wait. The window in your bedroom was taken care of already, but you tested it again just to make sure.

You tried sliding it. Lo and behold, it didn’t budge. Your bedroom was safe at least. But there were still two upstairs windows to go. The closest one was the bathroom. You ran out of your bedroom, making it to the bathroom in a record time and stepping into the bath situated at the far wall. The window was slightly above the eye level of the bath, perfect for perching your hair products on in the rare event you actually took one. Again, you tried sliding it, and again, it didn’t budge. It probably hadn’t been unlatched in years.

You stepped out of the bath, now barreling down the hallway to the guest bedroom. It was a plain thing, lacking any of the personality your personal bedroom had, but it worked for people only spending a night or two in your home. The white curtains were drawn and unmoving, implying the window behind them was still shut so the wind didn’t blow. Still, you had to check. 

The curtains peeled back with ease, showing a closed window and no creepy man in a ghostface costume with a knife looming at you through the glass. You checked the latch. Safe. You allowed yourself a breath of relief.

Except, all too perfectly, the light in the guest bedroom switched off. 

Plunged in darkness, your heart started to pound again, pure panic flooding your brain as you moved in a mix between a stagger and a run, manoeuvring around the foot of the bed in the centre of the room to frantically switch the light back on. You flicked it, over and over again.

The room remained dark. 

The power must’ve gone out. 

How? It wasn’t a stormy night and there wasn’t any maintenance scheduled for your area. 

But then you realised something. 

You sprinted down the upstairs hallway, not giving your eyes time to get used to the darkness that blanketed your house. It was by sheer miracle you felt the banister of the stairs under your hand before you fell face first down them and crippled yourself with a murderer on the loose. You padded down the stairs as quickly as you could, downstairs similarly covered in darkness now with the TV turned off. 

Rather than going right where the TV was, you went left. Out to the back room, with the couch, another TV, shelves with wine and the pool table. But dead centre, the gateway to your backyard,

The back door. Wide open. 

You stopped, your heart jumping to your throat as your eyes stung with tears. Shit. The back door was always locked. You never had any need to use the backyard except when company was over, and that happened occasionally at most. There should’ve been no way the back door was open.

But it was. And it meant one thing.

The creepy guy with the knife was in your house. 

Your breath stuttered. The only noise in the entire house was that of the soft wind blowing in through the open door. Too terrified to make a noise, your body froze, listening out for any sounds coming from your blind spots as you stared at your backyard in the distance. Even turning your head felt like it would be as loud as a rocket taking off. 

You didn’t know how long you were there for, stifling cries as tears rolled down your cheeks and every nerve of your body was on edge, waiting for something to strike out of the darkness. You covered your mouth with your hands, your breath hitching when so much as the wind blew a different way. 

But it remained quiet. Silent as the night itself. 

Whoever was here, was lurking. Waiting. 

And you couldn’t take the waiting game anymore.

You slowly padded over to the door, the wind icy cold on your skin as you shut it in miniscule increments. But finally, after an eternity, it shuffled shut. You clicked the lock into place, forgetting it made a noise as it did.

The click was deafening in the quiet. Another surge of ice bolted through you as you immediately turned away from the door to watch the rest of the house. Now that your eyes were used to the darkness, a cursory glance was all you needed.

The figure in the mask stood in the corner of the room you were in. 

His head was cocked to one side, as if surveying when you’d finally notice his presence. You couldn’t see his face under the mask, but you could bet he was smiling. Wickedly. A deep laugh echoed through the otherwise silent room.

“Go on, cutie. Give me a chase.”

Your legs, which had been as useful as tree trunks, snapped out of the ‘freeze’ response they’d been locked in, and you bolted. He laughed again as he watched you leave, giving you a head start you didn’t have time to notice. All you could do was run through the back room, through the kitchen, to the front living room where you almost knocked your body into the couch.

You felt the back cushions of the couch just before you ran into it, pivoting left and launching yourself at the steps, luckily finding the banister to aid you in your mission to get to your bedroom and find your phone to call the police. Your legs rocketed you up the stairs, your rapid breathing and frantic steps preventing you from hearing your pursuers footsteps echoing against the tiled floor of the kitchen.

It was obvious where you were going, and he treated it almost like a game. A game he knew he was going to win. But you clung to that small shred of hope that you could make it to your phone, then to a room with a door that locked.

You burst into your bedroom, slamming the door shut and raced to your bed in the centre of the far wall. You felt around the blankets in the dark for your phone, an excruciating few seconds of searching passing before your hands found the solid weight. You pressed the power button, your phone thankfully starting up, but it would take at least a few minutes to fully charge up. You unplugged your phone and ran to your door to open it, but before you could,

It opened by itself.

And the figure walked in.

His looming shadow was obvious against the wall of the hallway even in the dark. He stepped through the threshold slowly, taking in the darkness.

Your breath hitched, letting him know exactly where you were. Your phone lit up, the colours of the logo shining into your skin and lighting your terrified expression for him to see in the small beam of white light. 

“Too slow, cutie.”

With movements too fast for your brain to comprehend, he turned you around so that your back was against his front, your phone dropping to the floor in the process, and wrapped his arms around you.

One around your waist and the other loosely around your face, his hand over your mouth to silence you.

That woke you up.

You screamed into his hand, the noise dulled to nothing outside of the tight cocoon the man at your back created for you. You tried to move, thrash your arms and legs around, but the arms around you were deceptively bulky. Strong. You weren’t getting out of his hold unless he permitted it, but that didn’t stop you from trying. 

Attempts at punches and kicks flew at him from all the directions you could reach as your screams continued, vibrating into his hand. Not one blow landed, not with him in your blind spot. They weren’t able to do any damage anyway. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the initial panic response and adrenaline started to fade from your body. You could feel it. The fight slowly leaving you, giving way to exhaustion as your lungs heaved for air. 

You slumped in his hold, still conscious but wishing you weren’t. Wishing you were far away from whatever this bastard was going to do to you. A sound came from underneath his mask. A chuckle.

“Haha, that was a cute fight, cutie. But unfortunately…”

The hand at your mouth moved to tilt your head up to his. 

“I’m stronger than you.”

His hold on you proved it. Ironclad and impenetrable. Impossible to break from. You could feel them on your stomach and waist. Hard muscles poked through the thin robe, pressing tightly against your skin and keeping you glued to his front. He was strong, and you had no way out.

With your mouth now free, you wanted to scream. But your still out of breath condition forced you away from it. Any attempt was fruitless. You lived alone. You were alone. 

With this unknown man.

“Please don’t kill me.” your voice was small.

He laughed, that deep bass reverberating through the mask. “Kill you? Cutie I don’t want to kill you.”

You felt a cool sensation at your neck, his mask pressing into it to whisper into your ear. 

“I want to teach you that lesson.”

You gasped. The hand at your chin left it, trailing down your jaw to rest at your pulse point, chuckling at the race of your heartbeat through the skin. Down the slope of your neck, your collarbone, feeling the softness of you under his fingers. 

He was right on the phone call. They were big. And thorough, if the snail’s pace his fingers were tracking down your body signalled anything. They trailed down your collarbone, traced the slope of your cleavage, dipped into your nightshirt. He cupped your breast in his hand and gave it a light squeeze, letting out a harsh breath at the feeling. His fingers edged your nipple, close enough to tease but not enough to touch. His other arm, the one firmly locked around your waist, let up the most miniscule bit, his hand squishing the side of your waist. Feeling the plush of your body in his hold.

Soon enough, the hand that had been trailing down your body joined it. Resting both hands on your waist. He pressed your ass into his body, your thin sleep shorts that barely covered your ass rubbing up against his jeans. They were as rough as you expected denim to be, but there was a large bulge in the middle of it.

Damn it, you were starting to slip.

“There’s something… poking me.” You whispered.

He laughed, pressing his mask further into your neck. “What do you think that is, cutie?”

You knew what it was. You weren’t an idiot. This man had somehow gotten hard at some point in the night, and was coming to collect some relief. He ground your hips into his, making small circles that slotted the bulge of his dick right between your ass cheeks. He hummed at the pressure, pulling you deeper into him. This wasn’t enough for him, not by a long shot, but he relished in the thrill of the tease and chase. He’d let it go on as long as he could.

“Answer me, cutie. What’s that I’m pressing into your ass?”

You babbled at first, but you swallowed your fears. “Your dick. That’s your dick.”

“Yeah it is.” One of his hands shifted upwards. “On second thoughts…” he stopped grinding into your hips to fake ponder his next words. A bolt of something between fear and hope shot through your heart, your logic and hope at war with each other at what he could be second guessing.

“I might kill you after all.”

You gasped again, your heart speeding up. You prepared to beg, but he spoke again.

“Unless you satisfy me well enough.” Huh?

“What?” your voice was tinged, on the verge of tears.

“Be a good enough girl for me and I’ll keep you alive. Would be a waste gutting some good pussy.” His hand shot up to your chin again, grasping your face tightly.

“I-I have a boyfriend.” you tried to plead.

“Remember what I said on the call, cutie? I would be better for you.” His fingers dipped into the waistband of your shorts for a split second, making you shiver, then took them back out. “And this is your life on the line, cutie? Are you gonna die to remain loyal to some mediocre dick?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. He knew.

“So are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

You nodded slowly, settling into your fate.

“Good.” Still in the dark, his hands left your body. Then you heard shuffling. 

“What are you doing?”

“Taking off this robe, cutie. Figured you might like me if I like you so much.”

“But the lights are still off.”

He laughed. “Nah, they turned back on once you got to your room. I saw your TV turn on.”

The shuffling stopped. Then his arms found you again. He hugged you, softly, like he was a boyfriend backhugging his girlfriend at the supermarket while begging for snacks. Rather than feeling fabric against your back, you felt warm skin. One hand fondled your waist, the other rubbed your ribcage, barely grazing the bottom of your breast underneath your nightshirt. But that was only some of the things to focus on.

You could feel his abs pressed against your back. Hard muscle separated by harsh divots in the skin. Your breath hitched. No wonder you weren’t able to get him off you. Between the shifting muscles in his arms, his tough hands squeezing you, and the washboard at your back, he was jacked. The kind of man who could use his girlfriend as a weight at the gym. The kind who could toss her around any which way he wanted, and be strong enough to pin her down and silence any discussion about it. 

He swayed you gently in his arms like a bastardised slow dance. Your hands had hung limply at your sides all this time, but the feeling of him, his warmth, all around you had woken them up. You had to please him. Your life was on the line. You knew he’d be patient only for so long. So you finally moved your arms.

You placed your hands on his arms, finally feeling his biceps in their entirety. Up until now, you’d only felt the muscle at your torso while he caged you into him, but now you could truly explore. Hopefully he’d get a kick out of it. You wrapped your hands around his biceps, gasping in awe at the sheer thickness of them. Hard as granite under your palms and fingers. 

“Aww, you like my arms, cutie?” you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Mhm.”

“That’s cute. But I’m gonna speed things up now. You just take it for me.”

He left no time for your response as he suddenly completely changed where he was on your body. He pressed his fingers against your lips, silently demanding entrance to your mouth. You obliged, opening up and letting his fingers sink into your mouth. He immediately choked you with his fingers, slipping them all the way back to your throat and laughed at how your throat constricted around the pads of his fingertips.

“Get them wet for me, cutie. Gonna need it.”

He pulled them out of your throat, settling them over your tongue. You swirled your tongue around them, laving them in the saliva that coated your tongue more and more the longer they remained in your mouth. You slowly bobbed your head the small distance you could, getting used to the pressure of his fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around the tips of his fingers, at their most sensitive and attuned to the tightness of your mouth. 

You hollowed your mouth, sucking his fingers in deeper and bobbing your head harder, saliva starting to drip down his fingers and onto his hand. He groaned, the feeling a precursor to how his dick would feel in your mouth. You purposefully spit more onto his fingers as they left your mouth so the saliva ran in faster rivulets down his palm. You closed your eyes, choosing to only focus on the weight of his thick fingers on your tongue while you held onto the muscular arms wrapped around you. 

His other hand, which had been still at your waist, moved. It trailed up your ribcage, slowly memorising how the bumps felt under your skin and his, before slipping underneath your nightshirt. He traced the curve of the underside of your breast before his palm cupped it, squeezing it lightly. The flesh moulded itself to his hand, yielding to his hold. You squeaked, the small vibration from your throat felt on his fingers, and he grinned wickedly under the mask.

He took your nipple between two fingers, rubbing and pinching the bud as it grew hard at the stimulation. You moaned and bucked your hips, his grin widening at the your hips brushing his dick. From then on, it was dual stimulation. 

He started to thrust his fingers inside your mouth. Hard and rough. You choked on every pass he made, making you whine out. He tweaked your nipple between his fingers, stretching it and pinching it in equal, and rubbing it to soothe you when he felt nice. Waves of pleasure ran down your spine and pooled in your panties at the harsh treatment, your brain focusing on the rush of pain that came with having your breasts fondled so harshly. Your boyfriend was always so gentle with you, kissing you tenderly and treating you with care. But this man wasn’t. He was treating you like a stress toy. 

With every choke on his fingertips, you made a gulping noise as you swallowed around him. He was grinding up against you now, his hips swiftly moving in time with the thrusts of his fingers. His dick was hard enough that you could feel it even through your clothes, and it didn’t feel small. It seemed to take up almost the entire length of your ass, and the idea of all that dick being inside you shamefully made you even wetter. His breathing grew heavier as your saliva ran down his wrist, soaking his fingers.

You moaned a particularly needy whine, squirming in his hold as the assault on your tits and mouth reached a breaking point. Finally, he retracted his fingers from your mouth, leaving you panting. 

“Fuck, so wet for me.” His voice was strained, holding up his fingers that would glisten if the lights were on. “I’ll turn the lights on.”

You whined as his other hand left your breast, your right nipple puffy and sore. He somehow made his way perfectly over to your bedside lamp, then switched it on, bathing the room in a golden glow. Now able to see, your mouth dropped when you saw him.

He was exactly what his physique had felt like. Strong, sculpted with muscles more befitting of a greek god than anything resembling man. His biceps flexed almost automatically, like they had a mind of their own, shifting in the light of your lamp. His abs too, simply feeling them in the dark didn’t do them justice. Hard planes of muscle separated by deep divots that were exactly the washboard you’d envisioned. You failed not to look down at them, unable to control your drooling at the dusting of dark hair underneath his belly button, teasing into the waistband of his jeans. 

This man could fold you six ways to Sunday, and you’d thank him. His fingers still glistened with your saliva, the trails shining gold down his hand and wrist. 

He chuckled at your reaction. The pupils in your eyes should be smaller now due to you facing the light, but they remained as blown wide as ever. You were nothing less than awed at his physique, distracted by the ripple of his muscles and bounce of his pecs as he laughed. The mask had a fabric lining that extended down, some of it falling into his cleavage.

“Told you you’d like me, cutie.” He paused, looking you up and down in the light now too.

Your sleep shirt was rumpled from his fiddling with your breast, saliva shined on your bottom lip and dripped down your chin, your eyes were lidded and dark. Your shorts had ridden up your thighs and ass, a feat almost deserving of praise considering how small they already were before, revealing all the exposed skin he could sink his teeth into. You were short too, he could easily pick you up and throw you over his shoulder.

But he refrained. 

He instead walked around behind you, taking you into his arms again. He pressed his fingers up to your mouth again, coating them in a fresh layer of your saliva before sticking them down your shorts. Past your underwear. His slick fingers met your pussy, a deep laugh rumbling from his throat when you gasped at the sudden action. 

Even with the saliva on his fingers, he could tell the wetness he found was also your body’s reaction to his earlier ministrations. He peeled back your folds to reach your centre, rubbing his fingers up and down slowly, smearing your combined slick and saliva around your pussy. He rubbed in teasing motions, just barely nudging your clit before stroking down to your hole, dipping a fraction of his thick fingertip inside you before pulling it out. 

You whined at his teasing. He was an expert in dealing almosts. He brushed up against the parts of your body that were growing to ache the most, only to pull away at the last second. You grew wetter at his touch, but just as desperate. With every pass of his fingers rubbing you at the edge of where you needed, your breathing became heavier, studded with moans. After his touches on your breast, and now the teasing on your pussy, you became impatient. 

“Please touch me…” 

“I am touching you, baby. Where do you want me the most?” 

Baby. The nickname your boyfriend called you. It brought him to mind, but you couldn’t focus on him now. This man had wormed his way into your panties, you couldn’t be thinking of another right now. 

“My clit. Please.” You stuttered out your response. 

“Aww. Your cute little clit needs me? Adorable. Alright then. Just make sure to moan for me.” 

Somewhere after the end of his sentence, you realised he’d partially lifted up his mask. Not enough to see any of his face, especially when he was behind you, but just enough to expose his mouth to your skin. You felt his mouth on your neck, pressing small kisses into the skin that you could almost mistake for loving if it weren’t for the plastic of the ghost face mask nudging your chin. The kisses were soft caresses, slowly growing into deeper, open mouthed kisses that made small squelches when he pulled back. 

His fingers on your pussy moved upwards. For a moment you feared he’d pull back on his word and continue to tease you, just with the olive branch of neck kisses to soothe you, but he didn’t. On the up swipe, his middle finger went high enough to catch onto your clit.

You moaned aloud. Your clit felt every single microscopic ridge in his fingertip as he circled the bud, every nerve catching alight. You welcomed the touch, squirming from the pleasure rather than the desperation of being edged. His finger traced circles around your clit, even rubbing the extra sensitive spot between your clit and your clitoral hood, a spot that made you tremble in his hold. Your legs shook, now relying on him to hold you upright. The neck kisses had evolved from loving, ghostly touches to harsh attacks. He sucked red and purple marks all across your neck, ravaging every centimetre of untouched skin he could feasibly reach. He bit along the crook of your shoulder, licked a particularly purple hickey on the base of your neck, sucked on the sensitive spot near your pulse point.

Your hips bucked up as you moaned loudly, the stable touches on your clit pulling you towards orgasm. He rutted into your ass, groaning into the crook of your neck as he panted between kisses. The sign of his pleasure, simply from giving you yours, made your orgasm come closer. Then his fingers went downwards.

You whined at the loss of pleasure on your clit, the bundle of nerves throbbing from the assault it had just taken. His fingers travelled down and stopped at your hole, his middle fingers stopping and swirling slick around it. Your panties were drenched now, rubbing their hot dampness all over his fingers, but he wanted to feel the inside. They’d already felt your mouth, and how wet and hot it could be, but he knew your pussy was the real gold of your body.

He pushed a finger in, your breath hitching at the sheer thickness. It was thicker than your own fingers, stretching you out with one the same way you needed two of your own to do. The amount of slick you’d produced aided him, but the stretch was palpable. He groaned at how tight you were, sucking him in and holding him tight. There was almost no place for him to move, and it was still only one finger. He swore with a breathy tone to his voice, as if he were in awe at the sensation.

“Fuck, so tight for me baby. Could almost mistake you for a virgin.”

You weren’t one, but you couldn’t dignify his observation with a response as he started to move his finger in and out of your pussy. He took a steady pace, letting you feel just how big and long his finger was in detail as your walls gripped him like a warm fist. His finger reached deeper than you could dream of, making you whine at how big he was.

He pumped his finger in and out of you, slowly teasing a second finger up against your hole. A burning feeling arose from the impending stretch, but you welcomed the slight pain. Two fingers were always the best. He kissed over the hickeys on your neck, blunt pain arising from the pressure on the bruises as he slipped the second finger in. You gasped, the burning feeling spreading through your body and down your legs. But you were right. Once you were used to the two fingers and the burn eased, he ground the heel of his hand into your clit, amplifying the pleasure already starting to build. Your noises grew louder as your orgasm neared, your mind quickly becoming lost in the sensation. 

He groaned hotly into your ear, feeling you tighten impossibly harder over his fingers and imagining how you’d strangle his cock. His dick felt on the verge of combustion from the images racing through his head as your walls massaged his fingers and your moans sang into the heated air. 

“I’m… c-clos-...” you could barely speak from the sounds choking your throat.

“Let it out baby. Come for me.” His fingers remained the same steady pace they always were, the bone underneath the skin of his thumb pressing into your clit. 

A final circular motion of his hand was what did you in. 

Your back arched into him as you came with a loud moan. Your hips stilled and stuttered as your orgasm came over you in waves, the tempo in time with the continued thrusts of his fingers as you drenched them in your juices. He didn’t let your orgasm end, taking the pace and controlling it with an iron fist. Your mind grew hazy, your vision blurry and the nerves around your body dulled their sensation to focus your brain only on your clit and the feeling of his fingers inside you. He didn’t stop his fingers, your pussy pulsing around the soaked digits until the haze of the pleasure faded to welcome the pain of overstimulation.

You whined at it, your hips bucking in an attempt to escape the pain. 

“N-no, too much-” you weakly tried to push his arm away, but he thankfully stopped.

“Fuck, you look adorable when you cum, cutie.” He pulled out of you and then out of your panties, soaked beyond saving. You flinched at the sudden coolness of the damp fabric against your raw clit. He’d slipped the mask back down, but let his hand underneath the hood to lick your essence off. His other hand gripped his dick through his jeans like it owed him money. Staving off an orgasm of his own.

“Too adorable, actually. Almost came in my pants.” The obscene sound of lips smacking off his fingers rang through the room.

“God, you taste good.” The sentence was tinged with a growl. “Get on the bed, I need to do too many things to you.”

You obeyed, sitting on the bed as he unzipped his black jeans. Even in the limited light, his boxers had a stain on the front where his cock was. To say he was well endowed looked like an understatement, but it was confirmed when he pulled the final piece of clothing not covering his whole identity down.

His dick was massive. So thick you could probably just barely wrap your hand around it and so heavy it weighed itself down. Long enough to slap his thigh as he moved, droplets of pre beading on the tip. It was enough to make you drop your jaw, wondering how the hell it was gonna fit inside you. But also enough for a small wave of slick to leave your entrance in excitement. He gripped the base in a strong fist, making him groan as he looked eyes with you. He laughed.

“Scared, baby?” 

You had no response.

“Aww, cute. Not even inside you yet and you’re already dumb.” He walked up to you, his standing form towering over your seated one. The light dyed his right side gold, accentuating the flex of his muscles, while the left was shrouded in the shadows. His dick was right in front of your face, the size even more daunting but exciting up close. You looked up at him, still in the mask.

He chuckled at your expression. Your eyes were wide, as if unused to his size. Your hands in your lap fidgeting with each other. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth and released it just as quickly. 

“You know what will happen if you don’t measure up, baby.” 

You stilled.

“So are you gonna be good for me?”

You nodded.

“Good girl. Now lie down, wanna undress you myself.”

You immediately laid back on the bed and waited for him to join you. He crawled onto the bed and shuffled up to you on his knees until he caged your body into the blankets with his arms. You looked up at him, the dull throb in your panties and the knowledge of what he was going to do to you overriding the mild fear. He hovered over you, gauging your half-lidded expression before his hands left the bedding and he sat on his knees, his dick grazing your stomach.

He trailed his big hands up and down your sides, laughing quietly at the way you squirmed. His hands soon found their way underneath your sleep shirt, this time with intent to take it off. He grazed the side of your breasts with his fingertips before seamlessly slipping off the fabric, exposing your breasts to the cool air. You shivered at the sudden lack of heat over your chest. His hands still travelled along your body, feeling the soft skin underneath his fingers, the swell of your breast under his palm. He leaned his head down to get a closer look at your expressions, warped in pleasure but begging for more.

His fingers soon drifted, for the third time already, down into your shorts. Satisfied at the still warm and slick wetness he found stuck to your panties, he lifted his hand back out to lick at your juices, gifting you a glimpse of a sharp jawline. With an obliging lift of your hips, he slipped both your shorts and panties off, leaving you completely naked under his hulking physique. 

He took a moment to look at you in all your glory. Flustered face, hands dangling in the air unknowing of what to do with them, your thighs squished together and rubbing as if to provide some friction to your pussy under the intense gaze radiating through his mask. Slick painted the inside of your thighs in a light sheen. His cock pulsed, dripping precum all over your stomach as it shifted whenever he moved. 

He got up and straddled your head, pinning your hair up in a harsh fist that had you wincing. The tip nudged against your mouth. He thrusted once, in silent demand you open up and let him take your throat. You let him. 

The tip alone was nearly too much for you to handle, stretching out your lips almost as far as they went so as to not accidentally graze him with your teeth. He stayed there, letting you get used to the sheer weight and girth of him in your mouth. Your tongue swiped in circles around him, paying close attention to the underside of his tip that you knew was sensitive in men. It earned you a groan, and he slipped more of his dick into your mouth as a reward. 

You ran your tongue around what you could reach. He’d positioned himself at the exact angle that would have you accessing every centimetre of him while he held you against the pillow by your hair. His grip caused flares of pain to your head, but you focused on his dick regardless, swallowing the pain down. Your tongue tracked along the veins that throbbed on the underside, tracing them upwards towards the tip. His dick steadily leaked pre into your mouth, you faithfully catching it with your tongue. He moaned loudly when you dug your tongue into the crevice of his slit, making him thrust the rest of his dick inside.

You gagged, unprepared for the onslaught of his cock suddenly in your mouth. He groaned in relief, holding your head tightly against his pelvis as your throat struggled to take the full length of him in. He breathed heavily.

“Fuck baby, feel so good. ‘m trying not to cum right now.” 

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond. You could only swallow slowly and hope for the best. He groaned at the feeling of your throat constricting on the sensitive tip, your tongue swiping along the shaft as best you could. 

He soon started to thrust in and out of your mouth. He ran your mouth all along his dick, covering it with saliva before pulling out and thrusting back in with just as much fervour. Every pass made new groans leave him at the warm feeling of your mouth and the gulping noises as he reached your throat. Your eyes filled with tears at the rough treatment and the solid hits at your throat, but he was too busy throwing his head back and looking down at you, admiring your face as he fucked your mouth. He liked your tears, moaning at the sight of your desperate face. 

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that, baby.”

You closed your eyes and surrendered yourself to his will. He moved you like a ragdoll, in and out, rhythmic thrusts filled your mouth to the skull and back while you could only lie there and take it. You didn’t even move your tongue anymore, it couldn’t keep up with him. Saliva spilled down your chin and pooled at the corners of your mouth, more running and frothing with every movement he made. 

You reached up, resting your hands on the clefts where his thighs met his hips. His thighs were similarly swole as the rest of him, flexing in time with his thrusts. His breath became heavier, panting audible even through the mask. His thrusts stuttered, no longer the seasoned rhythm, now unstable and desperate, bucking his hips further into your mouth as he pulled out. There were bouts of a few second intervals where he just stopped thrusting, letting his tip push flush against your throat and stay there to catch his breath. You swallowed during those moments, eliciting a whine from the man above you, before he resumed his thrusts again.

He was getting close as his thrusts somehow picked up a pace that rattled your teeth. No doubt bruising your throat in the process. The more he rutted mindlessly into you, the higher his moans reached a fever pitch. The sounds leaving him had already made you leak slick down your thighs and onto the blankets, but the moans grew almost whiny.

“Fuck… I’m close baby. You gonna swallow for me? Take what I give you?”

You nodded as best you could through the dick in your mouth, staring up at him with doe eyes and tears streaming down your face. An obscene squelch sound rang out with every thrust into your throat, and one final swallow around his tip had his pulsing cock cumming straight down your throat. He groaned loudly as he fisted your hair even tighter, ensuring no amount of his cum left your mouth. The sheer amount of time his orgasm took to finally subside had your head going dizzy from the lack of air, but you found you didn’t care. He started to pull out as the last ropes of cum left him, the white liquid settled on your tongue.

He pulled out fully, panting like a dog as he rested back on his knees, his dick still rock hard in front of your mouth. Dazed, you slowly hoisted yourself up further on the pillow on your elbows, your gaze heated as you dropped your tongue, showing off the remnants of cum he’d left on it.

The effect on him was obvious. He chuckled breathily and his cock solidified further. “Fuck, baby, you could kill a man with that.” Ironic, given he would kill you if you didn’t measure up to his satisfaction. He lifted his mask enough to see his mouth, then leaned in to kiss you. 

The cum in your mouth immediately transferred to his, his thick lips sucking on your tongue to taste his own cum out of you. He hungered for it, all but vacuuming your tongue into his mouth and sucking an indent of his teeth into the muscle. The salty remnants of his cum faded quickly, but he still continued to kiss you, lips moving against each other with an odd familiarity. His tongue worked its way into your mouth, curling around yours and pushing you down further into the blankets as he dominated the kiss. He explored every crevice of your mouth like he was trying to stick his tongue down your throat, to understand with his tongue why his dick pulsed so harshly when you swallowed around his tip. 

Drool ran down your chin. Yours, his, definitely a mix of both. He pressed his head closer like he couldn't bear to be away, not even coming up for air despite the heavy breathing. You were sure he was drooling into your mouth, wet noises came with every smack of your lips.

Yet the time eventually came where he had to come up for air. He pulled away abruptly, on his last thread before the tingly haze in his head became the darkness. He panted, his mouth still visible to you and covered in saliva. His plump lips were red and puffy, his jaw cut like a diamond.

He loomed over you, his arms still bracing you on either side of your body. His hips shifted forward, nudging the thick tip of his dick into your inner thighs. You gasped and jumped slightly at the blunt heat, rivulets of slick dripping down your pussy and thighs that his dick was edging right into and smearing around. He groaned, so close to your pussy he swore he could almost taste it just with his tip. 

Your thighs twitched, reflexively closing inwards, but his hips prevented you from closing them fully. 

“Keep those legs open, baby.” 

You nodded sheepishly. He leaned over you again, this time situating himself right at your pussy. He took his dick in hand, giving it one slow pump from base to tip, twisting his wrist as he got to the tip. He groaned, then ran his tip down your centre, not penetrating you yet. Your wetness coated his dick with every swipe he made, turning his rock-solid dick a shiny shade of dark red. He gyrated his hips, catching your clit in the slit of his tip at the apex and making you both moan loudly. Every pass he made downwards edged closer and closer to your pussy. 

He watched your reactions, the way your face contorted into pleasure when your tender clit was ensconced in his thick tip before swiping away, the way your hands had shot up to his back at some point and dug your nails into his back. His movements were the same as they’d always been, rhythmic and so utterly calm. Collected. He groaned atop you, the heat slicking up his dick and preparing him for finally fucking you in the way you needed. The time that you’d feel him inside, stretching you out to a degree that you knew would take time to get used to. 

He rolled his hips in such a way that it felt delicious, the feeling momentarily quelling the fire burning at your pussy before going right back to stoking it. You moaned every time, followed by a gruff groan from him that steadily became more ragged. He was leading to the end of his tether too.Finally, after a steady build up of the telltale knotting feeling in your gut, he stopped and leaned back.

“Need to fuck you right now, baby.”

The magic words, music to your ears. This time, he let his tip catch into your pussy, a silent temptation. You spread your legs. He stilled for a second, his breath hitching so quietly you almost missed it, then pressed in.

The stretch was unlike anything you’d felt before. He’d prepared you for half his size on his fingers, let you cum and leak your slick all over yourself to the point it was dripping onto the sheets, but the stretch still burned your muscles. He felt almost inhuman, only the tip had popped inside you but it knocked the wind out of you. You tilted your head back, almost unable to process the feeling of the thick dick finally inside you. It was cathartic, the fire burning your insides could finally begin to be put out. 

He groaned above you, stilling as to not orgasm right there, tip deep in you. 

“Ooh fuck baby, so tight for me. Too big for you?”

You responded with a whine, unable to use words even if you tried. Words had evaporated from your head. 

He moved slowly, centimeter by centimeter, inch by slow thick inch until it seemed like you were filled up to your capacity, only to find out with a glance downwards he was only around halfway inside you. Your eyes bugged, uncertain if you could take all of him in. He chuckled.

“Aww cutie. Afraid I’m too much? Don’t worry.” His speech had an edge of grit, like he was struggling not to just plunge so deep inside you you struggled to find where you ended and he began. “I’ll make it fit.”

You whined, your brain hyperfocused on the feeling of his dick moving again, further and further inside you until it felt like he was properly in your guts. Never had you really understood the phrase ‘rearranging your guts’, but there was no other way to describe the feeling of just how deep he was inside your body. Your muscles burned from the stretch, but he stayed still, plump lips parted and teeth gritted to not rush into the deep end and mindlessly fuck you on his dick.

He had made it fit. His pelvis was against your pussy, brushing your centre. You were so stuffed of dick you couldn’t say anything, could barely make any sounds at all. You could only breathe through the stretch as you got used to it. Your pussy fluttered, making the man above you hiss and push his hips further into you. 

“Fucking shit cutie. Don’t do that.”

Your brain fog eased, giving you an idea that was the opposite of what he’d just instructed you. You smirked, and clamped your pussy down onto him.

A strangled moan left his throat, animalistic in its sound. The wetness was all around him now, the sensitivity of his cock suddenly being shown no mercy. He braced himself on all fours again, his head going to the crook of your neck right below your ear. His body was pressed against yours, the softness of yours meeting the hard muscle of his. You realised you’d probably made a mistake with the reminder of just how much bigger and more muscular he was. His breath ghosted over your skin, making it prickle despite the heat.

“Big mistake, cutie.”

He immediately set a pace only classed as punishing. His hips moved with a quickness your brain could barely catch up with. Pulling out to the tip then slamming back inside you, punching that back inner wall and massaging the others hastily. The burning sensation struck back in your muscles, not having fully eased during the time he’d been still, but now it bloomed all around his cock. His tip punched your cervix in painful ruts, his thrusts so fast his hips blurred but oddly disciplined for a man on the edge.

You screamed, walls clamping down on him impossibly further, choking the veins running down his shaft and making it an active effort to keep his hips bucking into you. The force behind his thrusts sent you shifting microscopically up the pillows and the headboard banging against the wall. Not that either of you were paying attention to it when he was fucking your brains out of your head. 

Every thrust of his hips into you had you moaning, the sensation too much for your little mind to handle. You started crying, tears streaming down your face as you dug your nails into his back and scratched, leaving red marks befitting of a jungle cat across the expanse of his muscles. He hissed at the pain but continued moving like nothing was happening, hips snapping into you while squeezing your hips so tightly it was going to leave finger-sized bruises across your skin by the morrow. 

You were choking on your sobs, the man nestling his face in your neck smirking against the skin as he heard them faintly over the wet squelches coming from where your bodies were joined. So wet, you were dripping out all over him, all around him, so slick it was sometimes difficult to stay inside, almost slipping out a couple of times. Your cockdrunk whines and whimpers, brain unable to form words, and then he hit that spot inside you that made your vision white out and your body spasm.

You hadn’t even noticed you were that close to orgasm, so it hit you like a truck ran through. Your brain couldn’t handle it, shutting down enough to have you only looking dazed at the ceiling as the tidal wave crested over your pussy then spread to the rest of your body in time with your pounding heartbeat. 

Your pussy clenched around him as you gushed, tearing a ragged groan deep from his throat. He ignored your still body, pumping his dick inside you and milking your orgasm for every drop it had like nothing had happened, nearing his own edge at your walls all but choking his dick like a vice. 

“S-shit! So good for me, dripping all over me like a good little slut.”

He gritted his teeth, feeling the rise of his orgasm cresting, but managed to stave it off. He wanted to feel you. You were pliant as a ragdoll, your body moving in response to his without any input from your tapped-out mind. Even your hands limply rested on his back, not scratching or digging in your nails. The sensitivity on his dick had him stutter on his thrust, bucking into you halfway to pulling out and almost slipping out of you on the tip. He stayed out of you a split second longer than he had all the other times before, his hand coming down to squeeze the base with such grip he whined under his breath.

But it worked. He resumed his pace, this time sliding his hand onto the curve of your neck. You didn’t react. He grunted, pounding into you with the fervour of a man starved, like he’d die tomorrow if he didn’t fuck you into silence and also fuck you out of it, too. He squeezed your neck, right on the pulse points that had your head remaining in its hazed state. Your pussy pulsed around him but was slacker than before, your body overstimulated and your thigh muscles twitching, but he kept going.

“Fuck baby… fucked you so good you’re not whining anymore.” He breathed out a laugh. “It’s okay, I’ll fuck you back to life.”

He paid attention to your face from your neck, squeezing your neck for split second intervals until the light returned to your eyes. His hips never slowed their pace, his stamina prepared for the fuck of a lifetime every night if his lovers so wished. You heard his words, mind slowly processing them to the forefront and finding the irony in them given his threat from earlier. Fuck you back to life? Well, you were breathing again now. Your brain was waking up again from its rest, thoughts no longer slurred in your head and it was just in time to feel him still pounding into you like nothing had happened.

He held his grasp on your neck, feeling the vibration of your whine on your skin. “Like this baby?” he asked teasingly, and you could barely nod.

He grinned wolfishly, licking a fat stripe up your cheek and tasting the dried salt on your skin. Pressing down on your neck tighter, he huffed out a surprised groan when you tightened around his dick again. He felt a spark in his abdomen, beaming brighter and heavier by the second as he pumped in and out of you.

“Oh fuck, I’m close baby. Gonna take all of me? Take all my cum like a good girl?”

You nodded, eyes clamped shut and keening at the praise. You held him tightly, pressing him into you like a weighted blanket as with every thrust he brought you closer to the edge as well. 

“You’re close too. You’re squeezing around me. Hold off babygirl, cum with me. Like the romantics do.”

You would’ve laughed if you were able. Instead you moaned. Whined right into his ear. He made a keened sound in response, lifting himself up onto his knees and guiding your leg onto his shoulder. The veins in his arms stuck out against the muscle and pulsed, his pecs rippled with every movement. His dick went deeper with the new angle, knocking your breath from your lungs with each time his tip barrelled into you. You cried out, locking your other leg around his waist and trapping him as close to you as you could, all while he continued to thrust, the pace unchanged and sending you both towards your climax. 

His groans grew louder as you tightened around him with every squeeze on your neck, every time he pounded into you and your pussy clamped down as if to keep him there forever. 

It was a few minutes of steady pumps of his dick, creeping closer to your orgasm but without the final push to send you over the edge and into the waves. Your voice was growing hoarse from the tireless whines and moans you’d let out at the pleasure of his cock, and you could feel your limbs growing tired, fatigue settling bone deep. But still you persevered. He did too. Your bodies were covered in sweat, the salty liquid settling into the divots of your muscles and rolling down his abs, drenching your hairline. 

It was a specific move he did. He took his hand off your neck for a moment to settle it down on your waist with his other one. He pushed your waist onto his cock rather than meeting his cock into you, and the different angle that move offered made you gasp louder than you had the entire night. He’d hit your g-spot. He stilled for a moment, then thrusted with renewed vigour, going just as hard as he had in the beginning. Your moans were so loud you could feel your throat drying up from constantly being open, but you didn’t care in the moment. 

Moving like that, right into the spot inside where you were most sensitive had you coming. Your orgasm crashed into you, gushing around his cock like a tidal wave. Your brain turned to mush, whiting out your vision and causing a buzzing in your ears. Your entire body squirmed in his hold as he thrusted into you through your orgasm, pushing more slick out of you. The sheer amount of it completely wetted his pelvis, dripping down past his dick and balls to settle into the blankets. 

He all but whined at the sensation of you having the orgasm of your life on his dick. If you had any neighbours nearby they most definitely would’ve heard you coming on him, and that puffed up his ego to the stars. He still kept moving, your slick frothing around his cock in squelching noises to rival the most depraved of porn. It was better than porn, because here he was moaning uncharacteristically high pitched as the spark in his gut finally exploded like a busted fuse. 

"F-fuck. I'm coming, babygirl. I'm coming."

His orgasm lasted what felt like forever. Ropes of thick cum pumped into you as he moved until the overstimulation forced him out of you. His dick was soft, finally sated. A steady dribble of cum leaked out of you, and although his dick was done for the night, the sight of his release oozing out of you in an unbroken stream made him drool. 

Your brain and vision had returned to the land of the living, so you spied him adjusting his mask to show his mouth fully. The inside of his mouth glistened with saliva, and he kneeled down to put his face near your thighs. You whined at the sight, too overstimulated to be eaten out, but he ignored your wordless pleas.

He licked up your centre, dragging his cum through your pussy up to your clit, which had you wincing and screeching through gritted teeth at the pain. He rolled his tongue back into his mouth and grinned at the taste. Even though it was mostly his cum, the tangy sweet undertone of your arousal complemented the salt of his perfectly. 

He kept his tonguing ventures strictly to around your hole after that, digging out his own release with his tongue and licking it down his throat. The stimulation made you whine hoarsely, but you were too tired to react, letting him crudely clean you up. 

The grand finale of the night came after he’d licked up every drop of your combined arousal. He’d dug into you one final time with his tongue, then moved up to meet his face to yours. You stared at him blearily, noting his mouth and lips were in an odd position, like he was keeping something in his mouth. He gently pressed his lips to yours, his tongue poking through the seam of your lips and through your open teeth, depositing the salty and tangy mix of your cum onto your tongue.

You didn’t flinch at the way his tongue massaged the inside of your mouth, spreading your cum around your tastebuds. He pulled back, shutting your jaw with his thumb and watched as you swallowed the liquid, a glimmer in your tired eyes. You smiled up at him. 

"Satisfied?"

He took the mask off fully, showing his face, and kissed you again, just as sweetly.

"You live another day, baby."

Everything pointed to a perfect movie night. 

Freshly popped popcorn prepared by your boyfriend on the stove, butter and salt sticking to the white kernels. An array of fluffy colourful blankets neatly folded on the cushion beside the place where you’d both sit, you setting up the original Scream on the joint netflix account. 

Maki rushed over with the popcorn he’d tossed with the flavourings like a professional chef, you sneaking a couple of pieces before he’d even sat down. He snickered and kissed your temple before slumping beside you with the popcorn still in hand, the topmost layer almost spilling out onto the floor. He passed you the bowl while he stretched to get the blankets, fluffing them out and draping them across your laps. 

“Did you enjoy last night?” he asked.

You looked at him, the tingling ache in your nether regions having not ceased. You’d spent the whole day unable to walk after he’d ravaged you like an animal the night before, relying on him to hoist you up in the shower while he washed you off, to pick you up in a heart fluttering princess carry downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast and lunch, and mercifully taking it upon himself to fold last night’s laundry after he’d changed the blankets. Those muscles… the memories came back, and you blushed.

“It was the best.”

He grinned wickedly, that cheeky, cocky smile you loved so much and had felt against your skin once he’d pulled that mask up. 

“It was funny hearing you say you could fuck me better than yourself.”

He burst out a single humourless laugh, then snickered. “Hey, the only person I’ll let fuck you better than me, is me.”

You smiled and stole a piece of popcorn. “Did you enjoy it?”

“The mask got hot real fast baby. That’s why I had it up the whole time.”

“Really? So it wasn’t to worship me with kisses?” You feigned hurt, placing the back of your hand on your forehead.

“Nah, kissing you isn’t all that, to be honest.” His grin took up half his face. 

You slapped him on the arm, your other hand cradling the popcorn and moving it away from where he could reach. He laughed and kissed your temple again, the affection softening the scene.

You looked deep into the pools of his eyes that swam with ardour. And kissed him. Chastely. Softly. A far cry from the animalistic rampage he’d gifted you last night. He tasted like butter and salt, his skin warm and inviting.

It ended as soon as it began, leaving the both of you smiling. 

“Should we watch the movie now?”

"Don't panic, god," Yuma muttered. He took a long sip of his soda, the straw slurping loudly in the otherwise quiet room, then let out a long, tired sigh. His sharp, cat-like eyes watched you with a mix of concern and mild exasperation. “Seeing you freak out like this is making my head hurt."

“Listen—I might have a solution. My friend Euijoo owns this big apartment with three other guys. The rent is stupid cheap because they split it five ways now. They've been looking for a fifth roommate for a while. The place is decent, and clean-ish, and I know you might be worried because it's 4 guys, but trust me, Ej is the kindest person you’ll ever meet. He's super nice and responsible. The others are chill too, I think K, Fuma, and Nicholas are there names. want me to text Euijoo for you?”

You were desperate. You said yes without thinking twice.

Within two days, you were hauling your suitcases up the stairs with the help of Yuma. 

Ej is quick to greet you, he stands there in the doorway—tall, broad-shouldered, with that soft, kind boyish smile you’ve seen in the few photos Yuma had shown you. His brown hair falls slightly over his eyes, which are covered by thin-framed glasses. He’s wearing a light grey sweater, which hangs lazily off his thin body, and baggy light blue, ripped jeans that hang a bit low. low enough for you to catch sight of the brand of boxers he wears. “You must be the new roommate,” he says warmly, voice gentle and a little deep. “I’m Euijoo, but you can call me Ej if you want. Come in, come in—Yuma told me you were coming today. Is he with you?”

“Oh no, he just left. helped me bring my suitcases up, though. He said his roommate started a fire in their kitchen.” You shrug, dragging your suitcases past him and into the surprisingly spacious living room. It's cleaner than you expected for an apartment inhabited by 4 boys. The place smells faintly of cologne, laundry detergent, and something warmer, almost sweet. Sunlight pours through the large window, making the walls turn golden. It's far nicer than your old studio.

His eyes flick over you for just a second too long before he smiles again. “Must’ve been Jo. He's not the best cook. Anyway, your room’s down the hall, first door on the left. We cleared it out yesterday. You have your own bathroom, but feel free to use ours if needed. The water pressure in yours can be a bit off.” 

Before you can thank him, two more figures appear from the kitchen.

One is lean and sharp-featured, with blonde hair falling over his rough-featured face, wearing a black tank top, low-slung black sweatpants that show off the chrome hearts logo, and a silver chain. He eyes you up and down with a slow, lazy smirk. “So this is the new girl. I’m Nicholas."

The other one is maybe an inch or two taller, broader in the chest, with dark hair and a soft gaze. He's in a tight white shirt that shows that he definitely goes to the gym. “Fuma,” he says simply, voice deep and a bit raspy, gaze lingering on your legs before he nods once. 

“Ah, yeah!” Ej’s voice raises slightly, still holding that sweet and gentle tone, “K isn’t here. He works a lot, so he’s rarely around. But you’ll probably get to meet him tomorrow.”

He shifted his weight, arms crossing over his broad chest as he gave you a small, reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes the way it had earlier.

You force a smile, trying to ignore the way the air suddenly feels heavier. “Thanks again for letting me move in so fast. I really appreciate it. I needed this.”

“No problem,” Ej says, that kind smile still in place as he grabs two of your heavier suitcases like they weigh nothing. “Let me help you get settled.”

He leads you down the hallway, the others watching you go.

Your new room is small but cute—the movers had already placed the larger items from your previous studio in it. The big window with a decent view catches your eye first, a beautiful view of Tokyo shining into your room. Ej sets the suitcases down and lingers in the doorway for a moment.

“If you need anything… anything at all,” he says softly, eyes warm, “just knock on my door. I’m right across the hall.”

He gives you one last gentle smile before closing the door behind him.

You exhale, finally alone. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

That illusion lasts exactly five hours.

You’re unpacking when you hear it.

The first moan is low, muffled through the wall—coming from the room that sits next to yours. then another, louder. a girl’s voice, breathy and desperate.

thud. thud. thud.

The headboard starts slamming against the shared wall between your room and his. rhythmically. Hard.

You freeze with a folded shirt in your hands.

“Oh fuck—nicho!—right there—”

The moans get louder, wetter. The sound of the bed creaking violently spills in through the thin walls. You can hear the sound of skin slapping skin, the girl crying out every time the headboard hits your shared wall. The noises are so loud that you can even hear them over the music blasting in your headphones, but you don't say anything. You simply turn the music up and try to ignore the obscene noises from next door.

Twenty minutes later, when the girl finally leaves (you hear the front door close), Nicholas walks past your open door shirtless, sweat glistening on his chest, sharp gaze upon you, face remaining still as if he hadn’t been blowing someone's back out just minutes ago.

He pauses, just for a second, before leaning against your doorframe.

“Need help with anything?” he asks innocently, voice soft. His eyes drop. curse him for being extremely attractive, you think. eyes trailing over the sharp lines of his abs, the deep V-line disappearing under the waistband of his black Chrome Hearts boxers.

“N-no, I’m good,” you mumble.

He just nods, still smiling. “Cool. dinner’s in an hour if you want to join us. gonna order pizza.”

The first night passed in uneasy fragments of sleep; it’s not like you weren't tired—you were exhausted, but every creak in the apartment made you tense. The headboard incident from Nicholas’s room still echoed in your mind, but after he’d casually invited you to pizza as if nothing had happened, the rest of dinner had been… normal. almost too normal. Ej kept refilling your water with that gentle smile. Fuma spoke in short, low sentences but offered you the last slice without a word. Nicholas joked about how bad Tokyo traffic is while sprawled on the floor, his shirt still missing, but he never once looked at you for longer than a second.

You told yourself it was just first-day jitters. You were overthinking it. They were guys, of course, there would be situations like that. The rent was cheap. You could handle mild awkwardness if it meant not being homeless.

That’s what you told yourself. 

The morning light filtered through your thin pink curtains, painting golden stripes across the boxes you still hadn’t unpacked. Your phone read 7:42 a.m. Your stomach growled, pulling on an oversized hoodie and loose shorts—nothing revealing—you padded barefoot toward the kitchen, hoping to slip in and out quietly.

The scene that greeted you was unexpectedly domestic.

EJ stood at the stove in a plain white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, rolling eggs into gyeran-mari with careful precision. His brown hair was still sleep-mussed, glasses perched on his nose. he looked up when you entered and offered that same soft, boyish smile from yesterday.

“Morning. Sleep okay? The walls here are pretty thin. Sorry if you heard anything last night.”

Your stomach twisted. He said it so casually, like he was apologizing for a noisy neighbor instead of his roommate’s loud, explicit hookup that echoed through the shared wall. You forced a small laugh.

“Oh yeah, it’s fine. I had headphones.”

Ej nodded, eyes crinkling kindly behind his lenses. “Good. We try to keep it down, but Nicholas gets… enthusiastic.” he plated two slices of gyeran-mari and slid them toward you with a fork. “Here. consider it an apology breakfast for Nicho’s behavior. 

You murmured a small thanks and took the plate, perching on one of the mismatched barstools at the counter. The kitchen was surprisingly well-stocked for four guys: fresh vegetables in the fridge, containers labeled in a mix of Japanese characters and hangul littered around the kitchen. A bottle of Taiwanese chili sauce sat near the stove, next to a half-empty jar of gochujang that had clearly seen frequent use.

Fuma appeared next, broad shoulders filling the doorway. He wore a tight black compression shirt that clung to the gym-honed chest you’d noticed yesterday, along with black shorts. He mumbled a quiet “good morning” in that deep, raspy voice, then opened the fridge and pulled out a protein shake without looking at you directly.

But when he shook the bottle, his gaze flicked to your bare legs where they dangled from the stool. just for a second. then to Ej.

“Going to the gym. Need me to pick anything up on my way back?”

EJ wiped his hands on a dish towel, thinking for a moment. “We’re low on eggs and milk. maybe some more rice if you see the kind we normally get—and grab whatever snacks you want. new roommate might like something sweet after all the moving stress.”

Fuma’s eyes shifted to you again—brief, unreadable—before he nodded once. “Got it,” as he turned to leave, his broad frame passed close behind your stool. The fabric of his compression shirt lightly brushed your shoulder, warm from his body heat. He didn’t apologize or acknowledge it.

Nicholas finally shuffled in a few minutes later, yawning widely, hair sticking up in every direction. he was shirtless again, black sweatpants slung dangerously low. The silver chain dangling around his neck caught the morning light as he scratched his stomach absently.

“Juju, cooking? wow. He must like you, roomie.” he reached over and stole a piece of egg from the edge of your plate with his fingers, popping it into his mouth with a grin. “You look like you actually slept. Headphones must be noise-canceling.” his tone was playful and carefree. 

You shifted on the stool. “They’re decent.”

EJ signed, swatting Nicholas’s hands from your plate before shoving his own plate towards him. “Be nice, Nicho. She just got here. don’t scare her off before the week is over.”

You kept your gaze on your food, cutting another small bite of the gyeran-mari. It really was good—fluffy, perfectly seasoned. Ej was watching you with that same kind, eye crinkling smile, waiting for your reaction.

“It’s delicious, Euijoo,” you said quietly. “Thank you.”

Ej’s shoulders relaxed a little, as if your approval mattered. “Glad you like it. I can make it again tomorrow if you want. Or try something else—I know how to cook some Japanese dishes too.”

Fuma had already disappeared down the hallway toward the front door, gym bag slung over one broad shoulder. The apartment felt a fraction less crowded without his quiet, heavy presence, but the air still hummed with the low energy of the three remaining men.

Nicholas finished his water and set the glass down with a soft clink. “I’m gonna hop in the shower. " Don’t miss me too much,” he teases, before sauntering off towards the bathroom. Ej chuckles softly, picking up Nicholas’s now-empty plate and turning to the sink. “He grows on you. eventually,” he sighs, turning on the water and grabbing a sponge. “If the noise from his room keeps bothering you, we can switch rooms. mine’s on the other side of the apartment. quieter.”

You shook your head quickly, waving both your hands. “No, no, it’s okay. really. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“It’s not trouble,” ej said gently, his voice warm and reassuring. He adjusted his glasses, brown hair falling slightly over his eyes. “We want you to feel comfortable here. That’s the whole point of splitting rent five ways—everyone gets a good deal and a good home.”

The way he said it sounded so sincere. His eyes met yours for a long moment, soft and earnest behind the thin frames. Then he smiled again and went back to washing the plate, humming a quiet tune.

You finished eating and rinsed your plate, placing it carefully in the drying rack. As you turned to leave the kitchen, EJ’s hand brushed your lower back—light, guiding, the same polite gesture he’d used yesterday when showing you to your room.

“Careful, the floor might be slippery. I spilled something and had to clean it. It might still be a bit wet,” he murmured. His fingers lingered just a second longer than strictly necessary before pulling away. “Have a good shift at work today. text the group chat if you need anything—train directions, umbrella if it rains, whatever.” You paused, brows furrowing for just a second before relaxing. You hadn’t mentioned your job schedule yet, but you just chalked it up to Yuma, who must’ve told them. “Thanks… yeah, it’s a long one today. café closes at 9.”

Ej nodded, that kind smile never wavering. “We’ll save you some dinner if you’re late. leftovers heat up easily.”

You changed into your work uniform—a simple black polo and dark jeans—and headed out, the morning Tokyo streets already buzzing. Your shift at the small café in Shibuya was familiar: endless orders, steaming milk, wiping tables, sore feet by hour four. The pay was mediocre, the tips inconsistent, but it kept you afloat. well—before.

With your new living situation, things felt a little lighter. more manageable. You didn’t have to count every coin anymore.

So today, instead of settling for a single fruit sando from the convenience store, you let yourself splurge—ordering a warm, filling katsu curry, the kind that actually made the long shift feel a bit worth it.

When you dragged yourself back to the apartment around 9:30 p.m., exhausted and smelling faintly of coffee and vanilla syrup, the place was warmly lit.

EJ appeared in the hallway almost immediately, wiping his hands on a towel. eyes turning into crescent moons as he greeted you, he was in another soft sweater, sleeves pushed up, glasses slightly askew. “Hey, you’re back. long day?”

You nodded, taking off your shoes, carefully placing them next to someone's Rick Owens—probably Nicholas’s, remembering back to the photos Yuma had shown you. “Yeah. busy rush tonight.”

He smiled softly. “We saved you a plate—bulgogi and rice. Fuma picked up some extra side dishes on his way back from the gym.” His eyes flicked over your tired frame, lingering on the way your shoulders slumped. “Go sit. I’ll heat it for you.”

Before you could protest, he was already moving toward the kitchen. You followed wearily and sank onto the couch in the living room. Nicholas was sprawled on the floor, playing a game on his phone, shirtless as per usual. He glanced up with that lazy smirk.

Fuma sat in the armchair, legs spread wide, soft sounds emanating from the switch in his big hands. He gave you a quiet nod, dark gaze resting on you for a beat longer than casual. 

K wasn’t home yet—still at one of his late training sessions, EJ explained when he brought your warmed plate. The bulgogi was perfectly reheated, savory, and tender. You ate gratefully while the others kept the conversation light: Nicholas complaining about losing a game, Fuma showing you the Pokémon he just caught, and of course, EJ refilling your water with that gentle, reassuring presence. You wondered if it would always be like this. 

When you finished, EJ took the plate without being asked. “Nicholas’s will wash this.” Before the blonde boy could protest, EJ shot him a glare before continuing. “You should rest. shower’s free—the big one has better pressure after a long day on your feet.”

You thanked him and headed to your room to grab clothes. As you passed the laundry area, the washing machine was running again. Ej’s voice floated from the kitchen: “If you have work clothes that need washing, just leave them out. I do a load most nights.”

The offer was practical. kind, even. So you said yes, not thinking anything of it. 

The next morning, you woke to the sound of your alarm and the faint smell of coffee drifting down the hall.

When you shuffled into the kitchen in your sleep shorts and hoodie, K was finally there.

He was taller than you expected—easily over 185 cm—soft, youthful face with gentle features. This was the 28-year-old? god, did he look young. He wore a black tank top that clung to his broad shoulders and gym shorts that did nothing to hide the thick muscle in his thighs. 

He was standing at the counter, pouring himself a protein shake, when his gaze slid over to you.

“Morning,” he said, smoothly, and he gave you a gentle smile. EJ appeared right behind you, carrying two mugs. “Ah, you met K. He got in late last night.” he set one mug in front of you, “I made you matcha.”

When did you tell him you liked matcha? 

You didn’t. You were sure of it. But you decided to let it go; maybe you had forgotten. Maybe Yuma had mentioned it when he set this up. Or maybe you’d said something half-asleep during dinner last night and just didn’t recall. It was fine. EJ was just… thoughtful. That was all.

So you never questioned these small things.

For the first two weeks, your laundry is returned by EJ without incident. Everything comes back clean, folded, exactly as expected—until one day, a pair of pale pink panties is missing. You don’t mention it to anyone, brushing it off as one of those small, annoying mysteries, convincing yourself the washing machine must have eaten them. But it keeps happening. a lacey black pair, a soft pastel blue pair with a bow in the middle, and even a plain white cotton pair adorned with cute bunnies.

You find one pair, though, folded neatly on top of the dryer, smelling faintly like his detergent… and something else.

When you mention it casually at dinner, whispering it to EJ, he tilts his head, that gentle smile in place, brown eyes soft behind his glasses.

“Laundry mix-ups happen a lot here,” he says kindly. “If anything of yours ends up missing again, just ask. It might've ended up with one of us.”

He says it so sweetly, it almost sounds innocent. That’s why you simply let it go. 

You stand up to rinse your plate, when K’s slim but well-defined frame is suddenly right behind you at the sink. His chest brushes your back as he reaches over you to grab a glass from the top shelf. You felt the heat of him, smelled the musky, dry, woody aroma of his cologne. He didn’t apologize for crowding you.

You froze, plate still in your hands under the running water. shifting on your feet, as he stands there, tall body caging you against the counter for a long second. His free hand rested lightly on the edge of the sink beside your hip, close enough that his forearm brushed your side.

And then you felt it.

the unmistakable, heavy outline of his cock pressing against the upper curve of your ass.

It was thick—even through the thin material of his gym shorts and your sleep shorts, you could feel the weight and the slow, deliberate twitch as it nestled firmer against you. not fully hard, but definitely not soft. 

He didn’t say anything. he simply reached a little higher for the glass, his hips shifting just enough to let his heavy cock drag slowly along your ass—one lazy, unhurried stroke—before he finally stepped back with the glass in hand.

“Excuse me,” his voice soft, steady—that gentle smile still on his face when you peek over your shoulder. His eyes were soft, almost innocent, as if nothing had happened. As if his half-hard length hadn’t been pressed against the flush of your ass.

You told yourself it was an accident.

Just like the missing panties.

All of it.

You kept repeating it like a quiet mantra every time another small thing happened.

The next morning was no different than the last.

You shuffled into the kitchen in your sleep shorts and hoodie. The matcha was already waiting on the counter, the smell of steamed rice and miso soup filling the air. ej shot you that soft, almost shy smile as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Morning, y/n.”

K stood nearby, pouring his protein shake. When you moved to the sink to rinse your empty mug, he stepped in behind you without a word. ‘Again?’ you thought, his tall frame crowded the small space, chest lightly brushing your back as he reached for a spoon from the drawer beside you. the warm, solid press of his body, and then—just for a heartbeat—the heavy, half-hard weight of his cock resting against the upper curve of your ass through his thin gym shorts. It twitched once, slow and subtle, before he grabbed the spoon and stepped away as if nothing had happened.

You quickly stepped away from the sink, cheeks still faintly warm, and sat back down at the counter to finish your breakfast. Ej slid a fresh bowl of miso soup toward you, the steam curling gently between you both.

Before you could even pick up your spoon, Nicholas leaned over and stole a forkful of your scrambled eggs, flashing you a cheeky grin. EJ immediately scolded him in that gentle, fond way of his, reaching over to lightly smack the back of Nicholas’s hand with a pair of chopsticks. “Leave her food alone, you gremlin.”

The kitchen filled with their familiar bickering and soft laughter again, the easy rhythm of morning chaos wrapping around you like a blanket. So you tried to let it pull you back in, not to let the strange tension from your moment with K linger in your chest… but the faint heat on your cheeks refused to fade completely.

Fuma was sitting in the armchair across the living room, legs spread wide in his usual relaxed posture, switch held loosely in his big hands. When the conversation lulled, he glanced at you and muttered in his low, raspy voice, “You play games?”

You nodded lightly. “Yeah. When I'm not busy, I used to play a lot more, though.”

He didn’t say anything else, picking up his phone from the side table and holding it out toward you.

“Here,” he said simply. “New trailer dropped. Looks good.”

You leaned forward a bit to see the screen. It was a gaming Twitter post — a short clip of an upcoming horror game. You hummed in agreement, “Yeah, the graphics are nice…”

Fuma’s thumb scrolled down slowly once, showing a couple of comments.

Then the feed auto-refreshed.

The screen suddenly jumped to the next post in his timeline.

It was a drawing—extremely graphic and depraved one at that. a girl bent over, face pressed into the sheets, tears streaming down her cheeks while a much larger man fucked her roughly from behind, hand fisted in her hair. The art was very detailed, glossy, and unmistakably intense: drool, flushed skin, visible bulge in her stomach, the whole scene dripping with depravity. 

But Fuma didn’t flinch; he didn’t even snatch the phone away or apologize. He simply kept holding it steady for another second before he tapped once, closing the app without a word, and lowered the phone back to the armrest like nothing had happened.

“Anyway,” he grunted quietly, already looking back at his switch. The trailer was decent. think I’ll check the game out when it's released. Let me know if you want to play it with me.”

His voice stayed low and even. no embarrassment. no explanation. just that heavy, quiet stare lingering on you for a brief moment before he returned to his game.

You quickly sat back, taking a sip of water to hide the flush creeping up your neck.

You told yourself it was an accident.

He’s a guy, of course, he watches porn.

even if it’s extremely graphic and kinda vile porn. People have their preferences. You had no room to judge. 

Plus, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Twitter’s algorithm was unpredictable, especially if he followed random accounts. He probably didn’t even notice what popped up before he closed it.

just an accident.

like everything else.

That night, the headboard still tapped rhythmically against your shared wall with Nicholas; it wasn’t the violent slamming from the first few days. The rhythm was slower, more controlled now. The girl’s moans were much quieter—soft, breathy little whimpers that barely made it through the wall, almost like she was trying to stay silent. But Nicholas was a bit louder tonight.

Every few minutes, his low, rough groans carried clearly through the thin barrier. 

“fuck… yeah, just like that.”

a slow, heavy thump of the headboard.

“shit, you’re squeezing me so good…”

another groan, louder this time, rough around the edges.

You lie in the dark, frozen under your covers, heart beating faster with every sound. The girl stayed muffled and quiet, but Nicholas didn’t seem to care as much tonight. His voice kept slipping through—low, filthy, and unfiltered.

“Take it deeper, baby… good girl. just like that.”

You pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore it.

It didn’t work.

Nicholas groaned again, louder, the sound vibrating through the wall straight into your core.

“fuuuck… that’s it. so fuckin’ wet for me.”

god, you hadn’t gotten off since you moved in here.

between the long shifts, the constant low-level tension in the apartment, and the way every small “accident” left you flustered and restless, you simply hadn’t had the chance. Now, lying in the dark with your door locked, the faint rhythmic tapping and Nicholas’s low, filthy murmurs were making it impossible to ignore how empty and needy you felt.

You told yourself you’d just ignore it.

You rolled over and buried your face in the pillow.

But the sounds kept coming—almost slow, deliberate, and teasing.

another low groan. Another soft “good girl” that sounded far too close,

your hand slipped under the waistband of your sleep shorts before you could talk yourself out of it.

You were already wet. embarrassingly so.

Your fingers found your swollen clit and started rubbing slow, tight circles. You bit your lip hard to stay quiet, eyes squeezed shut as you listened to the muffled rhythm next door.

You told yourself the walls were just thin.

Every rough groan from Nicholas made your fingers move faster. Every lazy, vague praise pushed you higher.

Your breath hitched, hips rocking subtly against your hand, chasing the friction. the pent-up need that flooded you.  

“Yeah, just like that. gooood girl.”

You imagined it was you he was talking to.

You imagined it was your pussy he was buried in, his hips snapping against you with that same controlled rhythm, his voice dropping to that filthy whisper right beside your ear.

“Such a good girl for me…”

You imagined his voice was for you—that deep, satisfied tone praising you while he fucked you slow and deep.

Your thighs trembled as you rubbed faster, two fingers pressing firm circles while your other hand gripped the sheets. The headboard’s soft tapping matched the pace you set with your fingers, and every low groan from Nicholas pushed you closer.

It didn’t take long.

Your thighs are trembling—fingers rubbing harder, slick sounds barely audible under the blanket. Nicholas let out another low, drawn-out groan — fFuck… gonna cum” — it tipped you over the edge.

You came hard, back arching off the bed, letting out a small whimper as waves of pleasure crashed through you. Your pussy clenched and fluttered around nothing, thighs shaking while you rode it out with frantic little circles on your clit.

through you, thighs shaking as you rode it out with small, desperate circles of your fingers.

When it finally faded, you collapsed back against the pillows, breathing hard, heart hammering against your ribs.

The apartment had gone quiet. Nicholas’s session must have ended while you were lost in it.

You lie there in the dark, chest rising and falling, a mix of relief and deep shame washing over you.

You had just gotten off to the sound of your roommate fucking someone else through the wall. god, maybe you were the pervert.

You got off to his voice calling someone else a good girl.

But you just told yourself it was nothing.

just stress relief.

just thin walls and a long dry spell.

It didn’t mean anything.

The next evening you came home late, you went straight to shower and then to drop your dirty work clothes in the laundry basket, Ej was already there sorting a load. He was humming softly, folding things with careful hands. When he picked up one of your smaller items—a pair of pale pink panties adorning pretty delicate bows—he paused for the briefest moment. His thumb brushed over the fabric once, almost absentmindedly, before he brought it closer to his face under the pretense of checking a stain. He inhaled quietly, slowly, then folded it neatly and placed it on the growing stack.

He never turned around. He never knew you were watching from the hallway.

You told yourself he was just being thorough.

For the next three days, everything felt almost… normal.

The apartment settled into a surprisingly comfortable rhythm. Mornings started with Ej already in the kitchen, pushing his glasses up his nose as he slid a fresh cup of matcha or a bowl of miso soup toward you with that quiet, warm smile—eyes crinkling behind his glasses. “Morning, y/n,” he’d say gently, voice warm like he really meant it. K would nod at you from across the counter as he mixed his protein shake, his tall frame relaxed rather than crowding. Nicholas kept blatantly stealing your food, ignoring how EJ berated him for it. Fuma seemed a bit more comfortable. no longer just staring quietly from the armchair; he would engage in small banter with you, or even, when he came home with various packs of Pokémon hard, he would occasionally ask you if you wanted to open them with him.

Your laundry came back clean and neatly folded on your bed—panties occasionally going missing, but not as frequently as before. The headboard in Nicholas’s room stayed mercifully quiet; he even mentioned in passing that his “friend” was out of town for a few days. No accidental brushes at the sink. No graphic hentai flashing on anyone’s phone. no heavy outlines pressing against you in the kitchen.

You started to breathe a little easier. Maybe the first couple of weeks had just been an adjustment period—four guys suddenly sharing space with a girl. Maybe you really had been overthinking everything. 

That illusion lasts exactly 3 days.

On the fourth night, you came home exhausted from another long shift, legs aching and eyes burning. You barely managed a quick shower before collapsing onto the living room couch instead of dragging yourself all the way to your room. Your oversized sleep shirt rode up slightly as you curled into the soft cushions, the low murmur of the guys playing games somewhere in the background wrapping around you like white noise. Within minutes, you were out cold.

You didn’t remember falling asleep.

When you woke sometime deep in the night, the apartment was dark except for the faint blue glow of a Switch screen. a warm blanket had been carefully draped over your body, tucked gently around your shoulders and legs, as if someone had taken real care. For a second, it felt comforting—until you shifted under the fabric.

Your sleep shorts were twisted awkwardly high on one thigh, the thin material bunched and pulled tighter than you remembered leaving them. And there, near the inner seam close to the crease of your thigh, was a faint damp spot. The fabric felt slightly stiff, cooler in that one place, like something warm and sticky had been pressed there and left behind to dry. Your stomach gave a quiet, uneasy flutter. You hadn’t been sweating, the rest of your body proof of that, as you didn’t feel any sweat on your skin. You were almost certain the spot hadn’t been there when you fell asleep.

Across from you, Fuma sat slumped in the oversized armchair, legs spread wide in his usual relaxed, dominating posture. The switch rested loosely in his hands, the low volume of what you think is Pokémon barely audible. His face was half-lit by the screen, expression calm and completely absorbed, as if he’d been sitting there the entire time.

He must have felt you stir because he glanced over, warm brown eyes meeting yours without surprise. His voice came out low and raspy, even and unbothered, like he was simply stating a fact.

“You looked cold,” he said simply, thumb still moving over the controls. “I figured I’d cover you.”

You blinked slowly, still groggy, pulling the blanket a little higher as you tried to subtly adjust your twisted shorts beneath it. The damp patch brushed against your skin again—unmistakable now, warm against your inner thigh. Your cheeks burned. had he…?

You internally shake your head. god, Fuma isn’t a pervert. He would never. The dampness was probably just… condensation. Or maybe sweat from the warm blanket that covered your body. or even your imagination running wild because of all those tiny “accidents” from before.

You tried to convince yourself. You really did.

Sleep didn’t come back easily. Every time you shifted under the blanket, the damp spot on your shorts brushed against your inner thigh again. The blue glow from Fuma’s Switch flickered across the dark living room. He hadn’t moved, legs still spread wide, one hand resting lazily on his thigh while the other tapped at the controls. In the low light, you could see the outline of his cock through the thin material of his sweatpants—half-hard, resting thick against his inner thigh. 

god, was he big.

Even soft—well, mostly soft—the heavy shape of him was impossible to ignore. not too long but most definitely thick, the shaft lying diagonally down his leg, the head nudging noticeably against the fabric. You could make out the faint ridge where the bulbous, swollen tip pressed outward, and the way the material stretched slightly over the girth. it looked… heavy. The kind of thick that would stretch you open, make your thighs tremble just trying to take him. The kind of size that would leave a visible bulge in your stomach if he ever pushed all the way in.

Your mouth went dry. ok well, now you were the pervert. definitely the pervert. First getting off to Nicholas’s sexual escapades to thinking Fuma was to defile you, and now staring intently at his dick like some desperate, touch-starved mess.

You told yourself to stop staring, to look away, but your eyes kept drifting back. How was something that thick even real? You’d felt K press against you before, but this… this was on another level. Fuma wasn’t even fully hard yet, and he already looked like he could ruin you.

Before your mind could wander any further, you swallowed and sat up slowly, keeping the blanket wrapped around your waist as you tried to fix your twisted shorts without drawing attention. The movement made the damp fabric drag across your pussy, and you froze. There was another spot right there—right against your covered folds. When you glanced down under the edge of the blanket, you could see the faint stain; it wasn't just damp. It was slick. 

You decided to ignore it, chalk it up to another accident. Just as you did everything else that had occurred whilst you lived here.

You forced your gaze away from the sticky mess between your legs and pulled the blanket higher, pretending the warm, tacky smear of cum wasn’t slowly soaking through the thin cotton and coating your pussy lips. You told yourself it was sweat. condensation. anything but what it clearly was—thick ropes of someone’s load rubbed right against your most sensitive skin while you slept.

You forced yourself to stand up on shaky legs, clutching the blanket tightly around your waist like a shield. The damp, sticky fabric of your shorts clung obscenely to your pussy as you moved, the thick smear of cum sliding wetly between your folds with every step. It felt warm and tacky, meaning that this had occurred recently. 

The short walk down the hallway felt endless. Your bare feet padding softly against the floor, the sticky drag between your legs was impossible to forget. You slipped inside and closed the door behind you a little too quickly, leaning back against the wood as you finally let the blanket drop. The cool air hit your skin, but it did nothing to calm the burning between your legs.

You barely had a moment to steady yourself before a soft, firm knock sounded on the door.

Without waiting for an answer, the knob turned. Fuma stood there, filling the doorway with his tall frame. In his large hand was your phone, screen dark. He held it out toward you, his expression calm and unreadable as always.

“You left this on the couch,” he said, voice low and raspy, barely above a murmur.

His eyes flicked down for a second, just once—slow, heavy—landing on the obvious damp patch darkening the crotch of your sleep shorts. he didn’t comment on it. He didn’t need to. The glossy cum stain was unmistakable in the dim light of your room, the thin fabric clinging to your folds where someone's cum had soaked through while you slept.

He stepped just inside the doorway, not fully entering but close enough that the air felt heavier. He extended the phone a little further, his gaze lifting back to your face after that single, deliberate glance. “Didn’t want you waking up without it,” he added quietly.

You took the phone with quick fingers, hoping he wouldn’t notice how they wouldn’t quite stop trembling. He lingered there for a moment longer, tall and silent, his expression as neutral as ever. His eyes flicked down once more—brief, almost casual—before returning to yours.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked, voice low and even. “It looked like you were having a hard time sleeping out there.”

The question was simple. polite, even. But it carried a weight that made your stomach tighten.

You managed a small nod, clutching the phone against your chest like a lifeline. “I’m fine. just tired. long day at work.”

Fuma hummed softly, the sound barely audible. He gave one slow nod, then took a half-step back toward the hallway, though he didn’t turn to leave just yet. His muscular frame still filled most of the doorway, the faint outline in his sweatpants visible in the low light.

“Alright,” he murmured. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

With that, he finally turned and pulled the door closed behind him with a quiet click, leaving you alone in your room once more.

You told yourself it was nothing.

Somehow, just another accident.

like everything else so far had been.

It was a little past midnight. You couldn’t sleep. Honestly,  you hadn’t really been able to sleep these last few days. You’d been tossing and turning, mind replaying too many small things at once—k’s heavy cock dragging against your ass at the sink that morning, ej’s quiet inhale over your panties, nicholas’s low “good girl” through the wall two nights ago, and now the concept that fuma had come on your shorts whilst you were sleeping. the same shorts discarded next to your bed. 

The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the old building settling. Thirsty and restless, you slipped out of bed in just your oversized hoodie and sleep shorts, padding barefoot toward the kitchen for a glass of water.

The hallway was dark, but K’s door was slightly ajar— just a few inches.

You almost walked past.

But then you heard it.

A low, slow, controlled breath. Then your name.

You froze mid-step.

through the narrow gap, the dim light from his bedside lamp spilled out. There he was, pressed against his headboard, completely naked. long legs spread wide.

His hand was wrapped around his cock.

He was stroking himself with slow, deliberate movements—long strokes from base to tip, thumb lingering over the flushed head every time. His cock was long and, dare you say, pretty; it looked bigger than it had felt pressed against your ass. The veins stood out clearly along the shaft, the head flushed dark and glistening with precum.

K’s head was tilted back slightly, eyes half-lidded, but his expression wasn’t lost in pleasure as you’d expect. It was calm. almost focused. That same gentle, youthful face he always showed you in the mornings—soft features, quiet composure—was still there while he pumped his thick cock in his fist. You would’ve walked away if it weren't for your name slipping from his mouth amongst the soft moans escaping him.

It was quiet, barely more than a breath, but you heard it clearly.

His voice was low and smooth, the same gentle tone he used when he said “excuse me” at the sink. Except now it was laced with something heavier, something hungry.

He stroked himself a little slower, dragging his hand down the full length as he breathed your name again, softer this time.

“Fuuck… y/n…”

Your stomach dropped. heat flooding your face and warmth pooling low between your thighs. You stood frozen in the dark hallway, unable to look away as K continued touching himself— calm, controlled, and breathing out your name as a prayer.

His thumb circled the leaking head once more, spreading the precum before he gave himself another long, smooth stroke. His hips twitched up slightly into his fist, but his expression stayed almost serene, like he was savoring it.

He moaned your name again, quieter, almost reverent.

“…love that cute little ass… bet you’d feel so tight around me…”

Your breath caught.

For the first time, one of the “accidents” no longer felt like an accident at all.

And that was confirmed as he looked straight at you through the gap in the door. He didn’t stop, nor did he flinch. he didn’t even look embarrassed. He simply kept stroking—slow, steady, unhurried—while his dark gaze locked onto yours. The corner of his mouth lifted into that same gentle, almost innocent smile he always gave you when he “accidentally” crowded you at the sink.

You were no longer thirsty. 

Reality had crashed back in.

Heart pounding, face burning, you tore your eyes away from the sight of k slowly stroking his thick cock while groaning your name, and turned sharply on your heel.

You walked away.

Fast.

The second you closed the door, you locked it with shaking fingers and leaned your back against the wood, breathing hard.

Thighs pressed tightly together. The warmth between your legs hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had only gotten worse.

You could still hear his voice in your head.

“…God…Wanna fuck those pretty tits too.”

“…Bet you’d feel so tight around me…”

You squeezed your eyes shut and slid down the door until you were sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to your chest.

You told yourself it was nothing. just another accident. just guys being guys. But this time the lie tasted bitter.

because he had looked straight at you. he had moaned your name. he had smiled that gentle smile while he stroked his cock.

And you had stood there and watched for much longer than you should have. You don't get any sleep that night.

The next morning came far too soon.

You woke up with a heavy, restless feeling in your chest and an annoying ache between your legs that refused to disappear completely. The memory of K’s calm face and the slow, deliberate way he stroked his cock while moaning your name kept flashing behind your eyes every time you blinked.

You told yourself to act normal.

You told yourself nothing had changed.

You told yourself it was still just an accident.

But even your body didn’t believe you.

You shuffled into the kitchen in your usual sleep shorts and oversized hoodie, trying to keep your steps light and your face neutral. 

The familiar scent of fried eggs over rice hit you before you even fully entered the room.

Ej was already at the stove, his glasses falling onto the tip of his nose as he greeted you with a smile. “Morning, y/n. matcha’s ready for you,” he said gently, setting the mug down on the counter exactly where you normally sat

K was standing a few feet away, sipping his americano when you walked in. He looked up and gave you that same gentle, youthful smile—calm, composed, almost sweet, as usual. an expression you’d become accustomed to. just not when his hand was wrapped around his veiny length. “Morning,” he said smoothly, his voice low and kind, as always.

But his eyes lingered. tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. 

Your eyes met, just for a second. just long enough for you to remember how those same dark eyes had looked at you through the gap in his door last night while his hand moved slowly up and down his wet cock.

You forced a small nod, putting on your best “oh, I'm completely okay, definitely not spiraling over seeing my extremely attractive roommate jerk off whilst he moans my name” face and mumbled “morning” before quickly moving to sit at the counter, keeping your gaze fixed on the matcha mug.

Nicholas wandered in a minute later, black tank hugging his well-built frame, baggy jeans just low enough to show off the expensive underwear he wore, silver chain catching the light. He stretched lazily, yawning, then shot you a lazy smirk. “You look a little tired, short stuff. rough night?”

You nearly choked on your first sip of matcha.

Fuma was nowhere to be seen. You assumed he was at the gym, and it even worked. Even with one of the four missing, the kitchen felt a lot smaller than usual.

When you stood up to rinse your empty mug, your stomach tightened.

K moved at the same time.

He stepped in right behind you at the sink, tall frame crowding your space like he always did. His chest brushes your back. You felt the heat of him immediately, along with the faint scent of his woody cologne.

His free hand rested lightly on the edge of the sink beside your hip, and then you felt it again, the heavy, half-hard outline of his cock pressing against the upper curve of your ass. again. 

But this time it felt different.

He didn’t make it quick. He let himself linger for far longer than necessary. letting his length rest along your ass for a long second, thick and warm, before slowly rolling his hips once—a lazy, deliberate drag along your ass that made your breath hitch. “Excuse me,” he murmured softly near your ear, voice gentle and polite like always.

But you could hear the faint smile in it now. like he knew you had seen him last night. almost as if he knew you had stood there and watched him stroke his cock while he whispered your name. almost like he was reminding you.

K stayed pressed against you for another heartbeat, letting you feel the full weight and warmth of him, before he finally stepped back with the glass he’d been “reaching” for. You quickly rinsed your mug, hands slightly shaky, and sat back down without looking at anyone.

The rest of breakfast passed in a haze. You barely tasted the food that EJ had made. Every time K moved or spoke in that calm, gentle voice, your mind flashed back to the night before—his long, wet, pretty cock easily sliding through his fist, the soft way he moaned your name, eyebrows crinkled with his head thrown back. 

You left for work as quickly as possible, mumbling a quiet goodbye.

The entire shift dragged. Your mind kept drifting. You burned two orders of tonkatsu, and the latte art, which you usually excel at, looked as if it were made by a kindergartner with two left hands. and nearly dropped a tray because you couldn’t stop replaying the low, controlled way K had whispered “y/n…” while stroking himself.

By the time you got home that evening, you were exhausted, frustrated, and unbearably pent up.

The apartment felt empty when you stepped inside. You glanced at the front door—no shoes on you. No Rick Owens, no adidas, no gym sneakers, or running shoes, nothing. No lights on in the living room. No familiar sounds coming from the kitchen or any of the bedrooms. You assumed everyone was still out—probably at the gym, working, running errands, or wherever they usually disappeared to in the evenings. You let out a small sigh of relief. No one was home. finally

The moment the front door clicked shut behind you, you kicked off your shoes, the soft thud echoing down the quiet hallway. feet carrying you straight to your room as if you were on autopilot. The second the door swung closed, you pushed it with your foot — not realizing you never heard that familiar, satisfying click of the lock.

Only then did you exhale.

You stripped quickly, letting your clothes pool on the floor until you were left in nothing but an oversized hoodie that swallowed your frame. The soft fabric brushed against your bare thighs as you crawled under the covers, pulling the blanket up to your chest.

The moment your head hit the pillow, the images flooded in—unwanted, unrelenting, and far too vivid. K’s calm, gentle face as he slowly stroked his long, pretty cock. the lazy roll of his hips against your ass this morning. the way he whispered your name like it was something sacred within his dimly lit room.

Your hand crept under the oversized hoodie before you could talk yourself out of it. fingers slipping between your thighs, a shaky breath left you. 

You were already soaked. embarrassingly so. The thin fabric of your panties is doing almost nothing to contain the wetness between your legs. 

Your fingers slipped between your thighs as a shaky breath left you.

Your clit was swollen and sensitive from a full day of low-level arousal you couldn’t shake. You began rubbing slow, tight circles, eyes squeezed shut. But it wasn’t quite enough. Finally, you gave in and slid two fingers lower, teasing your entrance before pushing them inside. The stretch made you whimper softly. You hadn’t realized you were this pent up. Your walls clenching greedily around your own fingers, wet and hot, pulling them deeper as you started a slow, shallow rhythm. You curled your fingers, searching for that spot that always made your toes curl, while your other hand kept rubbing firm circles over your clit.

“Fuck…” You shuddered, voice breaking as you rubbed at your swollen clit with frantic little circles, fingers still buried deep inside your soaked pussy.

The pleasure was building up fast now. You rolled onto your stomach, hips lifted in the air, blanket kicked aside—soft, slick noises that would’ve mortified you if you weren’t already so far gone filled the room. Your moans grew higher, less controlled, spilling freely because you were so sure the apartment was empty.

You were getting close. Your moans turned higher, less controlled. The wet, rhythmic sounds of your fingers working your soaked pussy grew even more obvious.

In your mind, it wasn’t your fingers anymore.

You imagined K’s pretty, steady fingers curling inside you instead, his sweet voice murmuring your name like it was something sacred while he watched you fall apart on him. Then, how Nicholas’s thick cock would replace them, pounding into you loud enough that the headboard would slam against the wall and everyone would hear. Ej’s gentle praise whispering “good girl, just like that” as he slowly worked you open. Fuma’s heavy stare burned into you while he held your legs apart and made you take it, just like in the image you had seen on his phone. 

The fantasy consumed you completely. Letting out hushed whines and moans of their names, the sounds turned louder, breathier, desperate. “Nngh— yes— fuck—” The wet sounds grew even filthier as you chased your release, hips rocking back onto your fingers, lost in the fantasy of all four of them using you.

So deep in your thoughts… You didn’t hear the front door open again.

You didn’t hear the quiet footsteps stopping right outside your room.

But Nicholas heard everything, 

And now… He had seen everything, too.

Your door hadn’t latched properly when you’d pushed it shut with your foot. It had left open just a few inches—just enough for the dim hallway light to spill in and just enough for anyone standing there to see you clearly. Fingers pumping in and out of your wet heat.

And Nicholas was standing there.

Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, that signature lazy smirk slowly curling on his lips. His eyes were dark, hungry, drinking in the sight of you on your stomach with your ass in the air, hoodie ridden up around your waist, two fingers buried deep in your dripping pussy while you fucked yourself desperately. He didn’t say anything at first. He just watched intently—watched the way your hips rocked back onto your fingers, watched the way your thighs trembled, watched the way your moans grew louder and more broken with every thrust.

When you cried out again—a loud, shameless “Fuck— I’m gonna cum..Nghh—” Nicholas finally let out a low, rough chuckle.

“Jesus Christ, short stuff…”

Your entire body jolted at the sound of his voice.

Panic exploded through you like ice water.

Your fingers froze mid-thrust, eyes flying open. In your rush to hide, you scrambled frantically, trying to yank your finger out of your dripping sex, pull the hoodie down, and pull the covers over you at the same time—limbs tangled, heart slamming against your ribs so hard you could hear it ringing in your ears.

You tumbled off the bed in a clumsy heap, landing hard on the floor with a startled yelp. “Ouch—oh my god ow!” The oversized hoodie rode up even higher as you hit the ground, exposing the curve of your ass and the slick shine on your thighs. Your legs were still trembling from how close you’d been, breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

Nicholas’s chuckle turned into a full, low laugh — warm, amused, and way too pleased.

“Shit, baby,” he grinned, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him with a soft click. “Didn’t mean to make you fall. Though… the view from here is even better.”

He leaned back against the closed door, arms crossed over his chest, silver chain glinting as he looked down at you sprawled on the floor — hoodie bunched uselessly around your waist, thighs shiny with your own arousal, face burning with humiliation.

Your voice came out shaky and small, cracking with panic.

“N-Nicholas… I—you—oh god—the door wasn’t—I thought no one was home—”

He tilted his head, that lazy, cocky smirk widening as he watched you try to cover yourself with trembling hands. “Oh, I know what you thought,” he drawled, voice low and dripping with amusement. “You thought you were all alone… sooo you could moan our names nice and loud while you fucked yourself stupid. Is that right?”

He took one slow step closer, eyes dragging shamelessly over your exposed body. 

“Fuck, short stuff. You were really going for it. ‘I’m gonna cum’—loud as hell. Bet the neighbors heard that one.”

Your face burned hotter than it ever had in your life. You wanted the floor to swallow you whole. Your pussy was still throbbing painfully, right on the edge and now completely denied, making everything ten times worse. 

“I’m so sorry—No one's shoes were by the door, and I assumed you guys were not gonna be home for atleast awhil–Oh my god, please don’t tell the others.” You tried to continue, but you paused as Nicholas crouched down slightly, resting his forearms on his knees so he could look at you more closely. His smirk softened into something almost fond, but the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

You tried to scramble back, heart pounding, but before you could get anywhere, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping tight around your ankle. With one firm yank, he dragged you across the carpet toward him. A startled squeak tore from your throat as the oversized hoodie rode up even higher, bunching uselessly around your ribs and leaving you completely bare from the waist down.

“Shh. Don’t move,” he ordered, voice dropping into that dangerous register that made your pussy clench despite the panic. He crouched lower, free hand sliding up your thigh, thumb brushing dangerously close to your dripping folds. “Look at this messy little cunt… still twitching, still so fucking wet. You really were right there, huh? Poor thing.”

You whimpered, trying to close your legs, but he easily shoved your knees apart with one powerful thigh, pinning you open. The size difference hit you hard—his broad frame looming over your much smaller one made you feel tiny and helpless.

“Nicholas—wait, I—”

“I’m so sorry,” he mocked in a soft, syrupy voice, repeating your exact words back to you with a lazy grin. “No one’s shoes were by the door… assumed we weren’t gonna be home for a while…”

His thumb finally pressed against your swollen clit, rubbing slow, firm circles that made your hips twitch involuntarily. Another trickle of slick slipped out of you, and Nicholas’s eyes flicked down to watch it with dark satisfaction. “Oh my god, please don’t tell the others,” he continued in that same mocking tone, voice dropping even lower as he leaned in closer. “That’s what you were gonna say, right, short stuff? Begging me not to tell while your greedy little pussy is dripping all over the floor.”

You shook your head frantically, tears of humiliation stinging your eyes. “I didn’t mean— I thought I was alone—”

“Mhm, so you thought no one was around… that’s why you were crying out our names while you played with that pretty pussy like you were in heat?”

“Loud enough that I heard you from the hallway. ‘Fuck—I’m gonna cum…’ Fuck, baby. You sounded so desperate.”

Your body twitched again under his slow, deliberate touch, another broken sob slipping past your lips as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. The mix of sharp pleasure and deep humiliation made your head spin, your smaller frame trembling helplessly on the floor.

Without thinking, your hips bucked up into his hand — a small, subconscious roll that pushed your swollen clit harder against his thumb and drove his thick fingers a right above the entrance of your dripping heat, teasing the slick folds without pushing inside.

Nicholas’s low chuckle rumbled again, darker this time, as he watched your hips betray you with that small, needy buck.

“Oh?” His voice came out soft and mocking, dripping with that same fake sympathy he had used when stealing your food that morning. “You want more, pretty girl?”

“Fine,” he said, voice dropping into something rougher, meaner. “I’ll give you more.”

Before you could even process the words, his hand flew to your hair, fingers tangling tight in the strands at the back of your head. He yanked you up off the floor with surprising strength, making you cry out as your scalp stung. Your smaller body was pulled upright in one swift motion, legs shaky and unsteady beneath you.

You barely had time to stumble before he spun you around and shoved you forward, bending you roughly over the edge of your bed. The oversized hoodie rode up your back as your chest and stomach pressed into the mattress, ass forced high in the air and legs spread wide by his knee kicking between them.

Your face burned against the sheets, fresh tears soaking into the fabric as humiliation flooded you again. The position left you completely exposed—pussy dripping, clit still throbbing, ass presented like an offering.

Nicholas kept one hand fisted in your hair, holding your head down against the bed while his other hand immediately returned between your thighs. No more teasing at the entrance this time.

He shoved two thick fingers deep inside you in one smooth thrust, burying them to the knuckles. The sudden stretch made you gasp sharply, your walls clenching hard around the intrusion.

“Thereeeee we go,” he growled, voice low and satisfied as he started pumping his fingers faster now — still not frantic, but deeper, harder, curling them relentlessly against that perfect spot with every stroke. His thumb found your swollen clit again, rubbing tight, firm circles that matched the rhythm of his fingers.

 “Fuck… that’s better, isn’t it? Greedy lil’ cunt sucking my fingers so deep. Look at you,” he murmured, eyes dragging over your flushed face, your trembling thighs, the way your pussy clenched greedily around his fingers. “Crying and apologizing… but you’re sucking my fingers in like you never want me to stop. Such a pathetic little slut.”

He pulled his fingers free with a wet pop, bringing them up to smear your own slick across your cheeks before pushing them past your lips and into your mouth. You let out a choked sob as you attempt to swallow around his long digits. He watched you with a satisfied smirk, slowly fucking his fingers in and out of your mouth while his other hand stayed tangled in your hair, keeping you pinned down.

“Taste how wet you got for me,” he growled softly, watching your teary eyes as you instinctively sucked them clean. “Yeahhh, Good girl. But my fingers aren’t gonna be enough anymore, are they, baby?”

Nicholas didn’t even bother straightening up behind you, one hand still fisted in your hair to keep your face pressed into the mattress as he used the other hand to tug off his belt—letting the leather slide free and fall onto the floor with a sharp, metallic clink that caused you to jolt slightly; the noise ringing in your ears. 

The sound of his zipper coming down followed, too loud in the quiet room. You felt the heat of his body shift slightly as he freed his cock, the thick, heavy length slapping against your ass cheek once before he gripped it at the base. He teased your swollen clit with it, slapping the sensitive bud lightly—once, twice—making your hips jerk and a fresh sob tear from your throat.

“Shhh, don’t fight it,” he cooed mockingly, pressing the blunt tip against your entrance. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

You shook your head frantically, tears soaking into the sheets, but the movement only made him laugh—low, dark, and far too pleased. His broad chest stayed pressed to your back, one large hand still fisted tight in your hair to keep your face pinned down while the other guided his cock towards your entrance.

“Liar,” he whispered against your ear, voice dripping with cruel amusement. “You left the door cracked open like a desperate little invitation. Moaning our names loud enough for me to hear every filthy word…and now this tiny cunt is dripping down my cock like it’s starving for it.”

Then he pushed forward.

The thick head stretched you open slowly, forcing your tight walls to part around his girth. The burn was immediate and overwhelming, but so delicious—he was so much bigger than his fingers, so much thicker than you could handle in this position. A broken cry ripped from your throat as he sank in deeper, inch by relentless inch, until his hips finally met your ass and he bottomed out completely. But he didn’t give you time to adjust—beginning to thrust with slow heavy rolls, punching the air from your lungs with each deep stroke. 

The filthy, wet slap of skin on skin echoed louder with every movement. His hips slamming against your ass with a rough, punishing force. The impact jolting your small frame forward with each thrust. He kept you pinned exactly how he wanted: face down, ass up, smaller body folded beneath his much larger one like you weighed nothing. “Fuuuck,” Nicholas groaned, “You feel so good. Can barley move… Fuckk tight cunt taking me so well.” 

His hips rolled in deep, heavy thrusts that drug the air from out of your lungs with each movement. The wet, filthy slap of skin meeting skin filled the room, growing louder and more obscene with every punishing stroke. 

Nicholas showed you no mercy, keeping one hand fisted tight in your hair as he pressed your cheek firmly into the sheets. 

The sound of your cunt was downright filthy—It made you cringe through tears.

Wet, lewd squelching noises echoed with every thrust as his thick cock plunged in and out of your soaked hole. Each time he bottomed out, a messy, obscene schlick-schlick-schlick filled the air—your arousal coating his shaft and dripping down your thighs, making the slide even wetter, even louder. 

“Shittttt…pretty girl… listen to how wet you are,” he laughed breathlessly, the sound almost mocking. “This greedy little pussy is dripping down my balls. You’ve been dying for cock, huh?” 

The slick sounds mixed with the sharp slap of his hips meeting your ass, creating a filthy rhythm that left no room for denial.

He suddenly pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the thick head stretching your hole, before slamming back in with one brutal thrust. The force ripped a broken sob from your throat as your walls clenched violently around him. You shook violently, breathing becoming rapid as you sobbed into the sheets, coating the pink fabric in a different type of wetness.

Nicholas groaned loudly as he felt your pussy flutter and spasm around his cock—grinding his hips deep so you could feel every inch of him buried inside you. He leaned down closer, broad chest now pressing fully against your back, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he fucked you with slow, punishing rolls.

“God, you are such a lil’ slut. Pretty cunt keeps sucking me in. Juju’s gonna lose his fucking mind. He’s been sniffing your panties like a pervert for weeks. k’s been worse though, so patient with you…leavin’ the door open when he jerks off to see if you’d break… and fuma? He’s been waiting to see how pretty you cry when you’re stuffed full,” he whispered, voice dripping with cruel amusement—hand slipping underneath you, fingers finding your swollen clit. He rubbed it tight, mean circles that made your thighs shake uncontrollably, slapped your clit lightly, making you jolt and cry out, then did it again harder.

“You gonna let them take turns with this sloppy little hole after I’m done with it?” 

The words hit you like ice water.

Your breath caught in a sharp, broken sob. Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks, soaking into the already ruined sheets. Your mind spun, a dizzying mix of shame, fear, and unwanted heat flooding your body all at once. 

The thought of them taking turns—passing you around like a toy and using your aching, dripping cunt one after another—twisted your stomach with shame… and made your cunt clench hard around Nicholas’s cock despite the shame coursing through you

You shook your head frantically, the movement limited by his tight grip in your hair.

“N-no… please—” your voice came out in small, cracked, and pathetic moan, the sound barely more than a whimper. “I can’t… not all of them… please, Nicholas—”

Your cries only egged him on; he began to thrust faster and harder, the bed creaking loudly beneath you. You could hear how he laughed—low, dark, yet delighted amongst the creaks and wet obscene sounds of your bodies together.

“It’s okay, pretty” he cooed mockingly, voice rough. “Right now—” He tightened his grip in your hair and yanked your head back just enough to growl against your ear, “This cunt is mine.” He pulls you back even further—grip on your hair forcing your back into an arch as he pounded into you. The new angle making his cock hit that sensitive spot with every thrust, ripping broken sobs and whimpers from your throat. Your smaller body jolted forward with each punishing snap of his hips.

You had already been so close.

Before he walked in, you’d been frantically fingering yourself—fingers pumping in and out of you; deep. hips rocking your swollen clit desperately aganist the palm of your hand as you chased your release. Their names slipping from your lips like a filthy prayer, amongst the soft squelches of your needy cunt.

You had been right on the edge, right there… and then he caught you.

And now that denied orgasm was coming crashing back ten times stronger. Fueled by every savage thrust of his thick cock and every dirty word that fell from his mouth—coated with a nasty edge.

Nicholas could feel it—the way your cunt gripped at his cock, sucking it deeper with each time he pulled out only to thrust into you again with brutal force. “Ohhh, there it is,” he taunted, “You gonna cum? Yea? You were so fucking close before, weren’t you, pretty girl?” his voice dripped with mockery, “Moaning ‘Juju… K… Fuma…’ like a little slut. You wanted to fuck your new roomies that bad, yea?” he cooed, as your pathetic sobs already had began morphing into desperate, breathy moans.

The words sent another humiliating wave of heat through you. Your mind screamed no, begged even— but your body did not listen to. it instead betrayed you completely. Your cunt gushed even wetter, the lewd sounds growing louder as he pounded into you without mercy. The pressure inside you coiled tighter and tighter, your clit throbbing under his relentless fingers, your entire body shaking as you teetered right on the edge.

You tried to hold back. You really did. You told yourself that if you could just resist a little longer, maybe you could hold onto some shred of your dignity. But the combination of his thick cock stretching you open, the brutal pace, the sharp slaps to your swollen clit, and the overwhelming shame of his words was too much. Your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train—harder and more intense than anything you’d ever felt before.

Your back arched into his stomach—a broken, sobbing cry tearing from your throat as your walls spasmed violently. Overwhelming pleasure erupted through you in blinding waves. Your vision blurred with tears and your mind went white, eyes rolling back. Your pussy gushed slick around him, soaking his cock and dripping down your thighs in messy rivulets while your body shook uncontrollably.

Nicholas groaned loudly, hips stuttering as he fucked you through every intense spasm. “Fuuuck— that’s it. Cum on my cock, pretty little slut. Look at you… making such a fucking mess.” He kept thrusting through your orgasm, drawing out every last shake of your body until you were whimpering and twitching from the overstimulation, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

He kept pounding you until he felt his climax approaching—only then did he pull out.

With a rough groan, Nicholas yanked his heavy length free, leaving your cunt gaping and leaking. He gripped the base of his thick, glistening length and stroked it fast and hard right above your trembling body.

“Fuuuuuck—gonna cum all over you, baby.” His hips jerked. Thick, hot ropes of cum erupted from his cock, splattering across your back and ass in messy white streaks. Some landed on the curve of your spine, even a few drops landing on your swollen, twitching pussy. The warm stickiness coating your bare skin—Milking every last drop until you were thoroughly marked with him.

Nicholas exhaled shakily, a satisfied smirk curling on his lips as he looked down at your ruined state — tear-streaked face, hoodie bunched uselessly around your ribs, swollen pussy still twitching and dripping.

He leaned down, brushing damp hair from your forehead with surprising gentleness.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmured, voice low and dark. “First one down.”

He pressed one last mocking kiss to your temple before standing up, tucking himself back into his pants. “Rest up, short stuff.” Nicholas gave your ass one final, possessive slap before he walked toward the door, leaving you sprawled on the bed—exhausted, leaking, and utterly used.

Nicholas didn’t tell anyone. 

Well, not that you knew of.

You woke to the familiar scent of matcha waiting on the counter and EJ greeting you with that same soft, boy-like smile as he pushing his glasses up his nose and slid the mug toward you. “Morning, y/n.”

K stood nearby, sipping at his americano, giving you his usual gentle smile when you entered. 

Nicholas wandered in a few minutes later, shirtless as usual, silver chain glinting against his chest. He leaned over and stole a forkful of your scrambled eggs with that signature lazy smirk.

“Morning, short stuff,” he drawled, voice perfectly casual, like he hadn’t spent last night wrecking you until you passed out on his cock.

He didn’t wink. He didn’t smirk knowingly. He didn’t say a single word about what happened.

He just stole another bite, earning the usual gentle scolding from EJ, and acted like nothing had changed. Fuma sat in the armchair, legs spread wide, quietly playing on his Switch. His dark gaze flicked to you for a second longer than usual, but he as usual he gave you a nod—’Good morning.” falling from his lips.

The whole morning felt… normal. Far too normal.

You sat there in your sleep shorts and hoodie, thighs still faintly sore, pussy still tender and aching from how roughly Nicholas had used you. Every shift in your seat reminded you of the way he’d pinned you down, the filthy sounds your pussy had made, the way you’d sobbed and came so hard you blacked out.

Yet none of them acted any different.

It was almost worse than if they had said something.

You kept waiting for the shoe to drop. For Nicholas to make a comment. For one of them to look at you differently. But the day passed in the same careful rhythm as before.

© smidare 2026 ♥︎ likes & reposts r appreciated!

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The night everything changed between you and Maki was in the middle of July. Summer was in full swing, miserably hot, but the evenings cooled down enough to enjoy sitting by the pool and watching the sunset splash its colors over the sky.

Not by much though. To keep from melting, you wore a skimpy red bikini. As the sun continued to set overhead and a pleasant chill caught on the breeze, you covered yourself with a sheer white tee.

It was Maki that fixated on these details. He happened to approach the back door just as you were gathering your shirt. The red bikini made his mouth water; the way it left little to the imagination.

From your full hips to your even fuller breasts, Maki couldn’t wrap his mind around your body. Or how badly he wanted to wrap his arms around it. Around you until you were flush against him and he could feel every inch of you.

That sent him down a dangerous path of wondering what you felt like. The softness of your skin. The tight, wet heat of your sex. It was all rushing through his brain.

Shit.

You were his best friend’s sister. Absolutely off-limits if Maki valued his life.

Maybe he could lower its value for a moment to talk to you.

Just as you slipped into the white tee, a sound at the back door made you perk up. Expecting your brother, your heart both raced and sank at the sight of Maki walking toward you.

“Oh,” you stammered, shifting in your seat a little. You were under the impression you would have the house to yourself for the night. “Hi, Maki.”

“Hey. I hope it’s okay I’m here. Fuma said I could jump in the pool to cool off.”

“Sure. Of course. Long day?”

Maki sat on the chair next to yours and pulled his shirt over his head. “Brutal. How about you?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and shrugged. Speaking was out of the question for you at the moment. There was a strong chance your voice would crack under the pressure of trying not to salivate at the sight of his chest and abs.

Meanwhile, Maki was taking great care to stare into your eyes to keep from glancing down at your body. It was just so pretty. Unfortunately, this dedicated stare unnerved you and made you wilt.

Was Maki crazy or did he sense some tension? Suddenly, you weren’t keen on talking to him and even turned your head away. Were you mad about something? Had he intruded on your alone time?

“Care to join me?” Maki asked politely.

“In the pool?”

“Yeah. Where else?”

A bed would be nice. “Sorry. I’m a little out of it,” you said, running a hand through your hair.

Maki walked over to the pool and dipped his hand in, testing the temperature and finding it perfectly cool. “Wanna talk about it?”

You followed him and lowered to the edge, letting your legs sink into the water. “I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to my problems,” you mumbled.

Maki dropped into the pool and yelped loudly at the refreshing chill, making you giggle. He combed his wet hands through his hair, slicking it back, and turned around to face you. “Why do you say that?”

You sighed loudly as you swished your legs back and forth in the cold water. “If you really want to know... I like this guy.”

Maki fought back a frown. Whoever this guy was, Maki already knew three things: he was a lucky bastard, Maki hated his guts, and he didn’t deserve you.

“Why is that a problem?” Maki asked curiously, hoping he successfully hid his envy.

He had, because you were none the wiser. “He doesn’t like me back,” you replied softly, your voice full of longing. “He doesn’t even notice me.”

“He’s an idiot.”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re beautiful,” Maki blurted before he could stop himself.

That was the last thing you expected him to say. Coming from him, it was almost too big a compliment to take. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Well, yeah,” Maki said, sinking deeper into the water until it touched his chin. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

You were relieved to hear him tease you. It reminded you of a simpler time when you were kids chasing each other around the yard. Back before you fell head over heels in love with a man that would never love you back.

“I won’t,” you told him with a chuckle.

“Have you tried getting his attention or talking to him about how you feel?”

“No. I could never. It would be too awkward.”

Maki pursed his lips. On the one hand, he was kinda happy you hadn’t yet given someone the chance to steal you away, but on the other, it saddened him that you liked someone that didn’t give you the care you deserved.

Trying to be gallant, Maki said, “It’s not awkward at all. You just look him in the eyes, say his name and tell him you want him.”

You grinned from ear-to-ear. Fuck. Why did he have to be so endearingly sweet and cute and funny? For being so insufferably gorgeous, Maki was an idiot.

Not to mention, full of shit.

Here he was, face-to-face with the girl he liked and Maki had never for a second had enough courage to tell her how he felt. Where he got the balls from to give you advice to do the one thing he’d never been strong enough to do was a mystery.

But his words made you brave.

You grabbed the edge of the pool and dropped in. You were so nervous that the water’s chill barely got a reaction out of you and Maki definitely noticed. You moved a little closer to him and said, “Maki?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you.”

Now, with all due respect, Maki was an idiot, but he was not stupid. He was rather intelligent. But it took a whole minute for him to realize what you’d said, then connect it to the context he had just made. And his jaw dropped.

You watched his lips part. Maki had never looked so utterly dumbfounded in his entire life. And you’d been there for most of it.

You’d watched each other grow up, drifting farther apart when all you’d wanted was to be together.

Maki finally closed his mouth and asked, “Are you joking?”

Your heart sank deep into your stomach. “Huh?”

“Please. Tell me if this is a joke or a prank or something.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry, but…” you apologized, but truthfully, you were starting to get a little angry and defended, “You literally just told me to tell you how I feel.”

Maki called your name and started closing the distance between you. “I need you to tell me if you really want me.”

“I just told you I want you! How many times do I have to humiliate myself? Are you into that kind of thing?”

“I’m into you.”

Your eyes widened and in the next second, Maki was kissing you. The warmth of his body was already blending into yours as he cradled your head in his hands and stole another kiss from your lips.

Something broke inside both of you. From all the pining and longing to finally having what you always wanted, you were out of your mind. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back with a fire and passion you’d never felt before.

Maki made a tiny noise. Despite the cold water, he was heating up by a million degrees. Warmth rushed through his body, straight to his cock.

The next few minutes were a blur. You kissed for what felt like days, then at some point you dragged Maki out of the pool with you. Leaving a trail of wet footprints through the house, you finally made it to your bedroom and stripped out of your soaked tee.

Maki whispered something under his breath, something in a language you didn't understand, before latching his lips to your neck and sucking beneath your ear. It caught you off-guard and you moaned, arching into his body and tangling a fist in his long hair.

And Maki really liked that reaction.

He squeezed his arms around you tighter and nibbled at the base of your throat, kissing and sucking, and shot a brief look toward your bed. He was tempted to shuffle you over to it, but he was mindful not to go too fast too soon.

A worry that was quickly dashed when you palmed his hard cock over his swimming trunks.

Maki broke from the sensitive skin beneath your ear to groan as you dipped your hand into his shorts and grabbed him. His hips rocked forward, seeking the warmth of your hand.

“You’re big,” you whispered in disbelief, fighting a giggle.

Reaching down to grip a handful of your ass, Maki released a shaky breath in your ear as you stroked him. You felt his fingers skim up your back and tapped the tied bow of your bikini top just before he asked, “Can I take this off?”

You nodded and Maki stripped it off you slowly, teasingly.

The moment his hands cupped your breasts and his thumbs teased over your nipples, you started moving backwards, drawing him with you until you fell onto the bed together. You grabbed his head and made Maki meet your kisses, humming when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

Maki grinded into you, kissing you even harder when your legs wrapped around his waist. He still couldn’t believe any of this was actually happening.

But here you were, dragging your fingers down his back and sucking on his tongue in your mouth.

Maki never stopped kissing or touching you as he pulled off his swimming trunks. His hard cock twitched when it rubbed against your clothed folds and Maki drifted his lips over your neck, whispering, “Can I take these off, too?”

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your bikini bottoms, but when you said nothing, gulping loudly instead, Maki propped himself over you to look you in the eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

You shivered a little, nervous, and said in a small voice, “I’ve never...”

Maki once again needed a moment for your words to hit him. When they did, his eyes widened. “Oh.”

You nodded.

“Why not?” Maki asked curiously.

“I’ve fooled around before, but I’ve never... liked anyone enough to go all the way with them.”

Maki studied you and felt deeply out of place. Had he known this would happen - to be fair, never in his wildest dreams did he think you would invite him into your bed - he would have made this whole thing a romantic affair.

He was a hopeless romantic, after all.

You blinked up at Maki and added, “I always felt like something was missing.”

“And how about now?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more. Nothing’s missing.”

Maki smiled. He had already accepted he’d never wanted someone this badly either.

Heat warmed your cheeks. The way he was looking at you made your heart flutter. There was an adorable twinkle in his eyes that shone even brighter than the lust.

“I trust you, Maki,” you whispered, pulling him down and kissing the corner of his mouth. “I’m not worried.”

“I promise to go slow,” Maki said, pressing a kiss to your lips and another to your cheek. “Tell me if it’s too much or it hurts.”

“Okay,” you replied, biting your lip.

Maki began kissing his way down your body, spending extra time with his lips wrapped around your nipple, and stripped your swimsuit down your legs. You couldn’t help but press your legs together once he had, shy at being exposed, but Maki grabbed your knees and spread you apart for him, brushing his fingers down your inner thigh before slipping them between your folds.

A soft moan escaped you when his finger pressed inside you.

“Fuck,” Maki groaned. He thought he’d run out of patience, going mad at the feel of your body, but he quickly realized he’d gladly finger you for hours just to see how many orgasms he could coax out of you.

You squirmed on the bed, eyes winched closed as Maki worked you toward release. He started slow, adding another finger and picking up the pace. You could hear the wet squelch of your pussy clenching on his digits, especially when he hooked them against your sweet spot.

“Do you touch yourself?” Maki suddenly asked.

“Yes,” you told him, panting. You were too close to the edge to formulate a lie.

Maki smirked and bit his lip, dragging his fingers against your walls. “Do you think of me when you do it?”

“Y-yes,” you said, winding your fists in the blanket underneath you.

Maki chuckled darkly, a low sound that completely unraveled you. You tipped your head back and moaned, and Maki sped up, growling, “Come for me.”

Your body obeyed. You twisted on your side, crying out and burying your face in the blanket to muffle the sound. Maki kept pumping his fingers inside you, riding out your high, his thumb rubbing at your clit, while his other hand reached over to grab your jaw so he could pry you from hiding your noises.

Panting for breath, your body trembled and you blinked to clear your eyes. Maki withdrew his fingers from you and rolled you onto your back, making room for himself between your thighs. He coated his cock in your release, glistening with your slick.

You finally lifted your head to watch him lining his member with your entrance and a wave of nerves crashed over you, but you spread your legs and bent your knees, because you wanted him so badly you almost couldn’t stand it.

“Ready?” Maki asked, guiding the head of his cock into your pussy.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You groaned with impatience. “Yes. Yes. Yes. A million times yes.”

Maki snickered. Then, he paled. “Shit. What the fuck am I doing?”

Confused, you met his eyes again. “What?”

“I gotta get a condom.”

You reached for him, grabbing his arms, and said, “I’m on the pill.”

Maki seemed to weigh that for a moment and you felt the tension leave his shoulders. He lowered onto you and crashed his lips on yours, winding his fingers into your hair.

You loved the weight of him on top of you. Feeling his cock against your folds, you grinded against him, enticing him to take you, and Maki groaned softly into your skin.

Burying his face in your neck, Maki snuck a hand down and palmed your sex. Then, you felt his cock finally pushing inside and you whimpered, clinging to him tightly as he stretched you open, coaxing himself into your core until he could go no further. When he broke through your resistance, you sucked in a sharp breath between your teeth.

Maki let out a deep moan once he was sheathed to the hilt and he left a gentle kiss in the crook of your neck. His breaths were staggered, much like yours. You were so tight it made him worry that he’d pushed your limits. “Does it hurt?”

A little at first, but you had no intention of telling him that. He would probably stop and that was the last thing you wanted. You shook your head and said, “No. It feels good. Just... please move.”

And you weren’t lying. It did feel good. You had no idea another person could fill you so completely. You already couldn’t imagine living without Maki’s body tangled with yours.

Maki drew his hips back and thrust in, and you locked your arms and legs around him. The way he was looking at you made your heart skip a beat. He couldn’t stop staring into your eyes, like he was hopelessly lost.

“What’s wrong?” you asked shakily.

Maki slowed a little, sinking into you deep and stopping. He brushed his lips over yours and whispered, “You’re just so beautiful.”

Heat rushed through you and you smiled up at him. Roaming your hands up his back, you carded your fingers into his hair and brought him down for a kiss, one he matched hungrily.

"You're taking me so well, baby," Maki parted from your lips long enough to say. "Tell me if it's too much."

You shook your head and held onto him a little tighter. "It will never be too much. I want it all."

Maki groaned, "Fuck," and dropped his head in the crook of your neck again, his hips canting forward like his body was on autopilot. It was mind-blowing; the wet heat of your sex drawing him in. He could feel you arching into him, making your walls flutter around his cock.

He loved that you wanted him as desperately as he wanted you. If you only knew how many times he fisted his cock, closed his eyes, and pretended it was you.

Little noises of pleasure mingled with your breaths, and Maki knew he was hitting the right spot. The spinning ceiling fan above blurred in your vision and you understood why Maki was hiding his face. Probably because his eyes were rolling back into his head, much like yours were. You tangled your fingers in his hair and kissed the top of his shoulder, whispering, "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

Maki panted harder with his pace, his rapid gasps cooling the sweat on your skin. Every now and then he would kiss or suck beneath your ear, at one point he clamped his teeth down at the base of your neck like needed an outlet, because fuck, you were going to milk every last drop of cum out of him.

You cried out at a hard thrust and locked your legs around Maki's waist, trapping him against you. Passion and lust and instinct filled you from head-to-toe. All you knew in that moment was Maki's body was a high and you never wanted to come down. "Maki, I'm...," you stuttered.

Maki propped up on his hands and immediately leaned down to kiss you. His pace was hard and fast now, and you were eating it up. Your fingertips were set deep in his back and your legs were a vise around his hips. You were drawing him into you, matching his rhythm.

"Are you coming, baby?" Maki asked breathlessly, kissing you before you could answer, because your glistening swollen lips looked so goddamn kissable. He broke from the kiss and said, "I'm gonna come with you. Can I come inside?"

You nodded without missing a beat. You wanted that more than anything. You wanted to feel him, everything he had. Nothing held back.

"Are you sure?"

Nodding again, you realized he wanted - no, needed - to hear you say it. "Come inside me," you purred, reaching up to hold his head in your hands. "I want you to."

Maki's lips parted, his jaw slack, and he tipped his head back and bit his lip to fight a moan. It still escaped him anyway and the sound shot pleasure through every inch of you.

"Do that again," you said impatiently, grabbing his face again and making him look at you. "Don't be quiet. There's no one else here. Just you and me."

Maki realized too late that he was borderline whimpering every time he sank into your perfect pussy, in addition to panting like he couldn't get enough air. Your walls were gripping his cock so tight. Maki kept chanting in his mind that this was your first time and he had to be a gentleman, but damn it, you kept fucking him up with your voice and your touch, and your everything.

You smiled when he let out another string of curse words, his back arching as he snapped his hips between your legs, his cock driving in deep. You were riding another high that you could make him feel so insane. Already, you had a sneaking suspicion this boy was yours now.

"Please, come," Maki rasped, his nose brushing yours as he stole an open-mouthed kiss, a messy clash of tongues. "I can't... fuck, baby... you feel so good."

It was already building and you kept moving in tandem with his thrusts. Maki glanced down to watch where your bodies connected, his stiff cock vanishing inside you, your pretty breasts bouncing with his movements. Damn it, he should have sucked on your nipples and put your legs on his shoulders.

Next time, he thought. Right now, Maki could feel how close you were and he'd been fighting off his own orgasm for what felt like hours.

You started to squirm. Your hands tried to find purchase somewhere before settling on his waist, his skin scalding hot to the touch. "Maki," you sighed, repeating his name like it was all you knew.

"I got you, baby," he said affectionately, staring into your eyes and setting you on fire. "You're mine now."

The sound that burst out of your throat was pure ecstasy as you finished on his cock, the breath seizing in your lungs as your body tightened up and shook. Your eyes winched closed and your legs locked on Maki's hips hard enough to interrupt his pace, but he kept stroking you through the high as your cunt kneaded him.

You were vaguely aware of him chanting, "Fuck," and your body sending him into his own orgasm, making him release inside you. His voice pitched higher and he moaned as his thrusts turned hurried and frantic, his hands pressing down on your thighs so he could keep moving.

Maki devolved into a mess above you, shoving his cock into your spent pussy until he'd filled you with his load. The room echoed with his desperate sounds and strained breaths, and with one final shaky thrust, he collapsed on top of you.

Your eyes widened in surprise when he landed on your chest with a little grunt. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms and legs around him, stroking up and down his back to comfort him, and quipped, "Oh, god, I killed him."

Maki laughed, his breath hot on your neck.

You were grinning so hard your cheeks ached. As far as first times went, you couldn't imagine a better one.

Maki finally came to some of his senses and lifted up on his elbows. He pressed a swift kiss to the corner of your mouth and asked, "You sure I didn't hurt you?"

"I'm fine," you told him with a nod, stealing a kiss of your own. For a moment, you studied him - his swollen lips, his flushed cheeks, and his sparkly eyes. The boy was so fucked out, you wanted to brand this view of him into your mind forever. Nibbling your lip, you said, "Let's do it again."

Maki took one look at the excitement on your face and huffed, "You are going to kill me." Shaking his head and chuckling, he slipped out of you and dropped to his side, making the mattress bounce a little. "I gotta take you to dinner," he started bashfully.

You rolled right toward him and smashed your lips on his, stopping only to say, "We can order delivery."

Maki carded his fingers into your hair, kissing you back hotly. Things began heating up again when you shoved your tongue down his throat and straddled his lap. The moment he felt your slick, warm folds on his cock, he knew it was only a matter of time before he was hard again.

That thought was quickly dispelled by the sound of a door shutting.

"I'm home!" Fuma's familiar voice rang through the house.

Both you and Maki looked at each other with wide, terrified eyes.

"Oh, shit," said Maki, still holding onto your waist.

You were already jumping to your feet and looking for your clothes. The sudden reminder of soreness between your legs made you wobble and Maki was there, getting an arm around your waist and half-carrying you to the bathroom attached to your room.

"Hide," he told you under his breath, quickly scooping up your bikini and his own clothes. Maki had barely gotten his swimming trunks on when there was a little knock on your bedroom door, followed by it swinging open.

Fuma stopped in his tracks at the sight of an obviously disheveled Maki.

"Hi," Maki blurted, his voice cracking.

"Hi," Fuma said suspiciously. He peered around and understandably asked, "Why the hell are you in my sister's room?"

Maki had not prepared for this - this nightmare from hell scenario. He was still pussy drunk, to be honest. Blinking like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi-truck, he fumbled around with his words and managed, "She's in the bathroom. Everything's fine. We went swimming."

Fuma glanced right past Maki at your bed, seeing it had clearly been used, and his eyes narrowed. "You're a dead man," he seethed.

"I know," Maki wheezed, accepting his fate.

Fuma was on his way to throttling Maki when you came out of the bathroom, clad in your fluffy pink robe, and yelled, "Fuma, don't you dare! You can't murder my boyfriend!"

"Boyfriend?!" Fuma exclaimed, his eyes full of shock, but mostly fury. "I think the fuck not."

You approached him slowly, mainly trying to hide your wobbly steps, and said, "I'm really happy. Don't ruin this for me."

Maki was staring at you like you were some kind of unicorn, but most of all, he was over the moon that you'd called him your boyfriend. He wanted to bounce around the room and celebrate. Fuma's gaze kept him pinned, deflating the pride that had filled his chest.

Fuma was not convinced. Folding his arms and glancing between the two of you, his expression full of scrutiny like he was judge, jury, and executioner rolled into one very angry brother, he asked, "How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, this was the first time we had sex. I promise," Maki said hurriedly, making you facepalm so hard the sound of the slap filled the room.

Fuma closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I have to kill him," he hissed.

"No," you said sharply, bracing a hand on your brother's chest. You softened, "Please, Fuma. He's just dumb."

"Thanks," Maki deadpanned.

You shot him a look and flirted, "I like my men dumb."

Maki flushed and bit his lip to hide a grin. For you, he would be the dumbest motherfucker that ever lived.

After a pause, Fuma pointed between you and your new boyfriend and said, "There's going to be rules about this."

Rules that you would inevitably break, no doubt, but you and Maki nodded, willing to play along if it kept Fuma from being murderous.

"You guys can't be doing it here," Fuma said gruffly. "Because walking in on this..., has taken years off my life. I need a cigarette and a beer."

You snorted. "Don't just waltz into my room then."

"Yeah, five minutes ago you would have gotten a front row view to my ass cheeks," Maki joked, trying to ease some of the tension with humor.

Fuma frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes again, his jaw clenching. "I'm gonna need you not to speak," he snapped.

You glided over to Maki and put a hand on his shoulder, saying, "Babe, let me handle the talking from now on, okay?"

Maki nodded, already lighting up with your simple touch. He glanced down at you in the bathrobe, remembered why you were naked underneath, and quickly started thinking about other things to avoid getting bricked up in front of his best friend.

With one more steadying breath, Fuma looked at you and simmered. "You're happy?"

You beamed at him and nodded. "Yeah, I really am."

"Alright," he said, resigned. Then, he pointed at Maki. "You break her heart, I break your balls."

Not trusting himself to speak again, Maki gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Hell, if one of you was going to get hurt, he'd make damn sure it was him.

Fuma cleared out quickly. He was uncomfortable, you could tell. Maki was his best friend, after all. They would definitely need to work things out friendship-wise, but at least in the meantime, you'd convinced him to spare your lover's life.

With your brother gone, Maki didn't hesitate to loop his arms around your waist and tug you close to him. "Boyfriend, huh?" Maki teased, arching his brows.

You giggled, practically melting into his touch. "I saved your life, you know," you retorted, draping your arms across his shoulders and meeting his oncoming kisses.

After getting his fill, Maki kneaded your hips and asked, "So, your first time - how was it?"

"It was perfect," you said with a smile that warmed Maki down to his core.

Soon it became a game. You never knew when you'd run into Maki, but he seemed to have your schedule mapped out in no time. When you stepped out of English, he was leaning back against the wall, cool and composed, and greeted, "Hey, pretty. Let me take you out tonight."

"Not tonight, Maki," you replied, failing to hide a tiny smile that Maki was quick to clock.

Another week passed and Maki started waiting for you after chemistry lab, knowing your arms would be full of textbooks. He didn't hesitate to take the pile from you to carry himself as he walked you to your car.

After the first time, you asked, "I guess I owe you, huh?"

Maki made a face and said, "Nah, just getting to hear about your day was enough."

That surprised you and you couldn't help peering up at him curiously, like he was a puzzle to figure out.

Maki closed your door and said cutely, "Drive safe, pretty," and you totally melted, falling asleep that night to thoughts of Maki's handsome smile and beautiful eyes.

Eventually, the exchanges became less about Maki getting you to go on a date with him and more about who could outlast this little game.

"Hey, pretty. Wanna go for a ride?" Maki asked you while standing next to his black motorcycle.

You gave the bike a glance over and folded your arms tightly. It was mid-autumn now, and the late afternoons were getting colder. "When hell freezes over maybe," you smarted, smiling despite your words.

Maki winced dramatically and put a hand over his chest, like your rejection was a barb lodging into his heart.

Though you would never admit it, this game with Maki was the highlight of your semester. Every time you felt overwhelmed by class or exhausted by homework, Maki would appear and get a playful rise out of you.

"Hey, pretty. Why don't you hop off your high horse and onto something bigger?"

"It's big, huh?"

"Come see for yourself."

"I'm busy."

"Get busy with me instead."

You laughed, and Maki always grinned whenever he succeeded in getting a laugh out of you.

Maki never invaded your space or made you uncomfortable, and you liked that about him. You kept waiting for the news that he'd been spotted with another girl on campus, but it never came. Surely, he'd give up on you and find a different piece of ass to chase that wasn't so stubborn.

That got you thinking - which was never a good idea - that maybe there was something else to Maki that you'd overlooked because of his reputation. Perhaps you'd judged him before you'd even met him, and already painted a picture of him in your head that was totally wrong.

Things changed between the two of you on a chilly autumn afternoon, winter just over the horizon, when Maki caught you on your way to political science.

"Hey, pretty," he called to you as he always did, falling in step alongside you. "I have a serious question for you."

Well, that was new. "I'm listening."

Maki took a breath, almost like he was nervous, and said, "There's a secret matchup going on tonight and I would really like you to be there."

"What kind of matchup?" you asked curiously.

"That's the thing - I can't tell you, but it's safe. Lots of our fellow classmates will be there."

You narrowed your eyes at him and said, "I don't think you're dangerous, you know."

Maki stopped, his eyes never leaving yours. "I just want you to feel safe."

That actually warmed you, and you were doubly curious now. "When and where?"

Maki's face lit up. He'd completely expected you to turn him down like you had a million times before. "Shit. For real?"

You snickered at his reaction and nodded.

"Tonight at 8," Maki finally said, smiling. "I'll be waiting in the parking lot for you."

"See you then."

The moment your classes were done for the day, you raced home and spent an hour settling on an outfit, one that would eccentuate your curves. You did your hair and makeup, and spritzed on the perfume Maki had once made a comment about.

"Damn, you smell good," he'd said in a low voice, and you'd immediately designated that scent as your favorite.

At 8 o'clock, you pulled into the lot and sighed in relief that Maki was waiting, leaning back against his motorcycle. You were starting to fantasize about riding it. Among other things.

When you stepped out of the car, Maki opened his mouth to greet you but froze, scanning you up and down like he eating you up with his eyes.

"Wow," he gawked. "You look beautiful."

You smoothed down your shirt and shifted your weight awkwardly, feeling your cheeks heat up at the compliment. "Thanks."

Maki closed the distance between you and held out his arm for you to take. "I'll be your escort for this evening."

You giggled and slid your hand into his offered arm.

Maki walked you across campus, beneath the bright lamps lining the pathways. He was surprisingly quiet for once and you couldn't help but think he was nervous about something.

"Are you okay?" you asked him softly.

"Yeah, sorry," he quickly said. "I'm just trying to think of how to impress you."

"You don't need to impress me, Maki. I'm here, aren't I?"

Maki looked at you and smiled, relaxing after hearing that.

He led you to the old mess hall, which you'd heard was being used for storage. Also that it hosted some insane parties. Your heart sank that he'd lured you to a party; you kinda wanted to just hang out with him and get to know him better, but when he brought you to a side door and down a small staircase, your eyes widened in shock.

It was a massive underground room full of your classmates, just as Maki said it would be. They were yelling and cheering, surrounding a makeshift ring blocked off by padded ropes.

A boxing ring. Where two boys were pummeling each other.

"Out of all the things I thought would be here, this never made the list," you said, still glancing around the room like it hadn't sunken in yet.

Maki leaned toward you and asked, "What was at the top of the list?"

"Drug-fueled orgy."

Maki burst into laughter, which pleased you, and he flirted, "Good to know that's where your thoughts went. We have a lot in common."

You turned to him and laughed.

Maki worked his way through the crowd with you still on his arm. A few girls that you had classes with greeted you, as if you fit right in. All the boys greeted Maki with respect.

Once Maki had you seated in a front-row spot with a close view of the ring, he slipped out of his jacket and draped it around your shoulders like a cloak.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Maki, are you...?"

"Big fight for me tonight, pretty," Maki said coolly, unbuttoning his shirt. "I knew if you were here, I would fight my best."

No words came. You just stared at him as he stripped until he was shirtless, his muscles bulging. Then you watched him spin the bandages on his hands and fingers. All the while, your mind was going a million miles a minute.

What you thought was going to be your first date with Maki was instead making you evaluate all your feelings for him in a very limited amount of time.

Finished prepping, Maki took your hand and pressed his lips to the top. "Wish me luck, pretty," he said, letting go of your hand and turning away before you could reply.

You leapt to your feet and called after him, "Maki, wait!"

He stopped. "What's up?"

"I don't want you to do this."

Maki arched a brow at you and asked, "Why not?"

"Because you could get really hurt," you exclaimed, glancing behind him at the loser of the previous match who was covered in his own blood from an obvious broken nose and busted lip.

Maki's expression changed on a dime and he teased coyly, "Are you starting to care about me?"

You grumbled. "Do you have any idea what the human body goes through when it gets hit hard enough?"

"Yeah. Been there, done that," he replied nonchalantly.

To your surprise, you tensed with tears. The thought of someone slugging Maki, the image of him hitting the floor, filled you with such dread it knocked the wind out of you. You recalled the moments spent with him over the past few weeks: him holding the door for you, carrying your books, making you laugh when you were on the verge of tears.

You couldn't imagine such a sweet boy doing what it took to stay alive in a ring with no rules.

Maki noticed everything where you were concerned, closed the distance between you, and cut the tension by flirting, "If I get hurt, you can stitch me back up, pretty."

You filled from head-to-toe with annoyance and it converted to anger quicker than you thought possible. "Is getting into my pants that important to you?"

Maki narrowed his eyes at you and said, "I'm not trying to get into your pants." Then, he slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Calls of his name summoning him to the ring grew louder, but Maki acted as if he didn't hear it, only aware of you. "I'm trying to get into your heart," he whispered for your ears alone.

You'd never wanted someone so badly than you did at that moment, and you lifted to your tiptoes and kissed him. You could feel Maki smile into the kiss and warmth rushed through you, hot and burning.

When you parted from him, Maki was slow to open his eyes, like he was still processing the kiss and letting it consume him. "Just for you, pretty," he said quietly, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. "I won't take a single hit."

"Promise," you said, breathless, wanting to drag him out of there and kiss him until the sun came up.

"Promise."

With that, Maki let you go and strutted toward the ring, and you felt the loss of him, suddenly cold. You returned to your chair and your cheeks flamed with embarrassment, realizing you'd just kissed Maki in a room filled to the brim of your peers.

But then you looked at Maki and saw him staring at you from the other side of the padded ropes and you smiled, not caring anymore.

It was worth it.

When Maki was introduced as the reigning undefeated champion, all nerves left you. And when Maki dodged every blow meant for him and suckerpunched his opponent, sending him to the floor, you realized the sweet gentleman you knew him to be was reserved for you.

He was powerful and confident, and even though every girl in that room was screaming his name, Maki was looking for your approval and your voice only.

You weren't cheering or clapping like the others, but you were on your feet, looking at Maki from across the way like you were ready to devour him.

Maki smirked.

It was your turn to lead him. Once Maki had pulled his shirt back on, opting to leave it unbuttoned like he knew he'd be taking it off again soon, you took his hand and smiled as he laced his fingers through yours.

Walking with a little urgency in your stride, Maki told you everything; how his father taught him boxing when he was young, how he practiced every chance he got because he wanted to fight professionally one day, and how excited he was to show you this side of him.

Once the two of you reached your car, you turned to face Maki and said, "I need to apologize, I... misjudged you."

"No, you didn't," Maki replied without missing a beat, coming close and getting his arms around your waist again. "I'm really bad for you," he whispered darkly.

"Nice try, Maki. You're in my heart now."

Maki smiled at that and claimed your lips with a mind-blowing kiss that made your knees weak.

You tugged him into the backseat of your car, falling inside with him in a heap. Maki parted from your lips just long enough to close the door behind him and then he was back on you, kissing you recklessly.

The kisses were hot and heavy, much like his body on top of yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and fumbled with his shirt until it was on the floor, roaming your hands across his scalding skin and feeling taut muscles underneath.

"Fuck. What are you doing to me?" Maki growled, latching his lips to your neck and sucking.

You gasped for air as he began marking your neck and said, "The same thing you're doing to me."

Maki grabbed your waist and thrust the big bulge in his pants against your clothed sex, groaning in his throat when he felt the heat of you. Fisting his hair, you arched up to meet him, reaching down with your free hand to fiddle at his belt.

While you got Maki's cock out of his pants, he hiked your skirt up around your hips and ripped your leggings with effortless ease, exposing your pretty pink panties that you were debating letting him see tonight.

Just as you finally got your hand around his thick length, Maki slipped a hand into your underwear and palmed your sex. When he pressed two long fingers deep into your cunt, you tipped your head back and whimpered.

"You wanna come on my fingers first, baby?" Maki asked, trying to be flirty, but you could hear how breathless he sounded. His cock twitched in your hand at the grip your pussy had on his digits.

You shook your head and bit your lip. "On your cock," you told him, letting out another shaky breath as he pumped his fingers in you.

"I think I should stretch you out first."

You felt yourself getting slicker each time his fingers pushed in, but all you could think about was the stiff cock in your hand and you wanted to stretch around that, not his fingers. Though he was using them expertly, dragging his fingertips against your sweet spot.

Maki sucked in a breath through his teeth when you played with the head of his cock, smearing his precum with your thumb. He felt you trying to steer his length to your entrance and he let you, tugging your panties to the side so he could fit the tip of his dick into your entrance.

When he finally started pushing in, you sank your fingers into his back for dear life and moaned, winching your eyes closed at the stretch. Maki swallowed your noises, his lips on yours, easing his cock in and out of your heat until you'd taken every inch of him.

"Like that, baby," Maki purred, pressing kisses to your neck. His hands were gripped on the seat to the point his knuckles ached, not wanting to bruise your skin, because holy fuck, you were so hot and tight he couldn't stand it.

You lost yourself to the feeling of Maki inside you, wondering how you had ever lived your life without him. You couldn't imagine going another night without his body against yours.

Maki's thoughts weren't much different. You completely consumed him, body, mind, and soul. He would do anything for a chance to have you, would kill any man that tried to take you away from him. Fuck, it was just too good.

"You're so big and deep," you whined, arching your body to meet his, hooking your legs on his hips and drawing him into you with every thrust.

"All of it's yours now, baby," Maki said, staring at where your bodies connected, watching his cock vanish inside your perfect velvet pussy every time he snapped his hips into yours. You were mewling like a bitch in heat, so he kept hitting you with those long, hard strokes.

When you started squirming, as if trying to get him in even deeper, Maki groaned and taunted, "You gonna come for me?"

The car rocked underneath you. You could feel it swaying with his movements. Every time Maki thrust his cock into you, you were shoved closer to the edge. Biting your lip to stifle your sounds, you stared up at Maki and held onto his burly arms.

Maki kissed your sweet lips, setting your whimpers and moans free, and said, "Come on my cock."

You shook your head, because you wanted to, but you knew it was going to ruin you. His cock felt so good buried in your pussy, you couldn't wait to bounce on it, and that had you thinking about seeing Maki again... regularly.

Maki nodded, mocking you. "Yeah, I know I'm breaking this pussy in good. It's mine now."

Your lips parted in surprise at how blunt he suddenly was, and how badly it turned you on. "Fuck," you cried out. "I can't, Maki. I can't."

He wasn't done. "I'm making sure every time you close your eyes all you're gonna see is me inside you. You're gonna dream about this dick."

"Fuck you," you snapped at him, but you didn't mean it. You just didn't like hearing what you already knew to be true. The very thing you'd been avoiding - falling for Maki - had happened. It was too late, you were done for.

"I want you hitting me up in the middle of the night, begging me to come take it." Maki rolled his hips into yours, hitting the spot deep inside you that made you see stars and whispered, "Because I will, baby. I'll come take it every fucking time."

"Oh my god," you moaned as you came, your walls pulsing and kneading his cock.

Maki kept the same pace, as if he knew exactly how to tear you apart, piece by piece. He growled in his throat at your pussy clamping down on him and said, "Good girl."

Your vision was blurry, your eyes full of tears. You'd never felt such raw, overpowering pleasure before in your life. You had no idea your body was capable of it.

Maki wrapped his arms around you, his chest against yours, and tucked his head in the crook of your neck, kissing affectionately at the base of your throat, whispering, "That's my girl. You did so good, baby. Fuck, you're so pretty when you come."

Every stroke of his cock now had you reeling. You were out of your mind with how safe and warm you felt, your body buzzing with euphoria.

"Don't stop, Maki," you begged, your voice weak and broken. "I don't want you to stop till you've filled me up."

"I'm not stopping, baby," Maki growled in your ear, still kissing your sensitive skin, slick with sweat, his and yours. "You're gonna take all of me."

After letting you come down from your high, Maki gave you a swift kiss on the lips before sitting up straight and gathering your legs in his hands. He bent your knees and pressed your thighs toward your body, folding you almost in half and gloving his cock in you at a fast and merciless pace.

All you could do was swear, your voice breaking as you pleaded with Maki to come. His big cock kissed your cervix, taking you for all you were worth, and you finally screamed his name.

Maki buried himself to the hilt in your cunt and released with a strangled groan, drawing back just a little to snap his cock back inside, filling you with his load. You could feel its warmth deep inside you where it belonged. Still sensitive, your walls pulsed around him, milking every last drop.

You made a little noise when Maki pulled his spent cock from you and flopped back against the seat, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes as he caught his breath. You smiled when he pulled your legs over his lap and began stroking your thigh.

A quiet moment later, Maki rasped, "You okay?"

You nodded and Maki smiled in relief.

He asked shyly, "Does this mean you'll finally let me take you out?"

"I literally let you come in me after our first date."

Maki snickered, watching you sit up and adjust your skirt. The moment you turned to look at him bashfully, Maki cupped your cheek and kissed you hard.

You broke away and took a steadying breath, saying, "I'll let you take me out on one condition."

Maki's eyes lit up with excitement. "Anything you want, pretty."

As pathetic and disappointing to feminism as it seemed, you had somewhat molded yourself to fit his type. Maybe not his type exactly, but at least a version that could talk to him as easily as the cicadas talked to the morning. The type that could slap his arm playfully when he made a joke and giggle a giggle that would sound like cherry coke. The type that wore baggy jeans and layered belts, just like him. The type that wasn't a quiet, withdrawn bitch that didn't talk to anybody, wrapped in her own ribbons and lace. The type that would be loud.

So when the day died out and you came back home, exhausted from your fictitious persona, you found solace in the one person that knew the true you.

“You look ridiculous with that on.” Euijoo chuckled, watching you wipe away your dark eyeliner—something you barely wore, “I’m surprised he didn't ask if you’re possessed, love." 

“Shut up.” You said, glancing at him in the vanity mirror. He was leaning back against the headboard of your bed, one arm thrown over his head lazily, while the other went back to scrolling on his phone, “And he did compliment me today, you absolute dick.” 

“You call that a compliment?” Euijoo laughed, throwing his phone down and sitting up, looking at your concentrated face in the mirror removing your makeup. Cute, Euijoo thought. His eyes briefly went down to your thighs in your shorts and then up, thankfully you didn't notice.

Byun Euijoo was a man of many talents. Confessing to his best friend who he had been thirsting over (and masturbating to the image of) ever since last summer was not one of them. 

In his defence however……ok he had no defense. Other than the fact that you were the most angelic person he had ever laid his eyes on. And god bless his heart (and dick), the poor boy had had a crush on you since 11th grade.

He knew it would be like all those books you read, the ones in which the guy is whole heartedly, heart-poundingly, cock-crushingly in love with the female lead, who ends up with somebody else. The second male lead syndrome, as you called it, passionately declaring that you would always love the second male lead more.

Euijoo wanted to stand in front of you with a spray painted sign that read “I am your IRL second male lead.”

What on earth did Yixiang even have that he didn't? Apart from the bad-boy look, the beautifully dyed blonde hair, the piercings, the tattoos that he designed himself, the motorbike, the cool sneakers, the–

Euijoo was beginning to see why.

He hadn't noticed it at first, though in hindsight to him now, it was scathingly obvious. The way you asked about Yixiang like nobody else mattered, the way you laughed a little harder at his very unfunny jokes, the way you lingered just a second too long when he was near, the way your voice softened when you said his name. Euijoo used to be the only one who’d hear that sweet tone of yours. 

When you had first confided in him about your earth shattering obsession for Yixiang, he wanted to laugh. You two were polar opposites, oil and water. Of course, opposites do attract but you needed to have a common base first—and there were barely any similarities between you two. You guys didn’t even like the same genre of music! 

And then when he brought it up, you only laughed (your pretty little laugh) and told him about your plan. Authenticity be fucked, he recalled you saying, all you needed to do was get Yixiang interested. Euijoo would have been lying if he said he didn't feel a bit sorry for you. 

If he knew anything about Yixiang, he knew that he wasn’t the type to fall for girls like you. Honey-sweet girls, pale blue ribbons in your hair, starry eyes that looked up at him in a way that made him want to drop to his knees and worship. Honey sweet girls who lived in the clouds and in words, who couldn't handle the emotions that came with being heart-broken. 

Euijoo knew you could protect yourself, that you were a woman with a fully functioning brain, but he also couldn't bear the image of you sobbing your heart out the day Yixiang eventually rejected you. He knew he couldn't predict the future and there could be a sliver of a chance for the both of you—but in his humble, knowledgeable opinion, that sliver was smaller than his will to live. 

But deep inside, he wanted Yixiang to reject you. He wanted so badly for you to come home to him as you always did, for you to sit down on his bed and ask with those pretty pink lips to have him hold you in his arms as you cried into his chest. It scared him sometimes how badly he wanted such a cruel thing. 

But could he really be blamed? When you fit so beautifully in his arms like you were made for his solace alone, like you two were matching puzzle pieces? When he was the only one who knew the deepest, darkest parts of you? When he was the one who had always been there, through desert and storm? Euijoo was a man of many philosophies. At least ninety percent of them revolved around you.

“You coming to Yixiang’s party on the 14th?” You asked, crawling up the bed to reach him, sitting on your knees in front of him. Your shorts barely covered your thighs, a strap of your camisole was slipping off of your shoulder and you were looking at him like he held the world in his arms. How was a man supposed to survive?

“Maybe.” Euijoo hummed, tossing his phone to the side and patting the space beside him, which you quickly occupied, immediately curling into his chest.

You stayed like that for a while, neither of you saying a word, just staring off into space as time ticked away. Euijoo wanted this moment to last forever, just the two of you pressed together like the stars pressed against the dark sky, one of your legs thrown across his, your tits very visible to him as you rested your head on his chest. 

“What’s that pretty little head thinking about, hmm love?” He said soothingly, running his slender fingers through your hair. He felt you exhale shakily against him.

“I think…” You started, then you sat up, turning around to face him again, “I’m gonna tell him in two days.” Euijoo stared at you blankly for about ten seconds, as if trying to get your words to penetrate his mind, “Oh don’t look at me like that Ju.” You chuckled, looking down at your fiddling fingers, “If not now, when?” 

Euijoo kept staring, with that peculiar look in his eyes that you just couldn't figure out. That look in his eyes that always looked like a night sky enveloping a thunderstorm. You told him that once and he had laughed awkwardly, excusing himself to go get a bottle of water. 

“In two days?” Euijoo said at last, sitting up to lean his back against the headboard, “At the party?” His voice was quieter than usual, as you nodded meekly, “I see…”

“That’s all you have to say?” You tilted your head at him, playfully reaching out a hand to grab his chin and tilt his face around, “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?” 

Euijoo’s soft smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he took your hand in his, rubbing circles over your wrist with his thumb. He stared at your joined hands for a while, his breath even and steady as he refused to meet your gaze. 

“Ju?” You said gently, “Ju, what is it?” You slowly brought your joined hands up, resting your cheek in his palm. Oh this girl, Euijoo thought, letting out a shuddered breath as he saw how you were looking at him. He tried hard not to let his gaze flicker down.

“It’s nothing, love.” He said, his tone tranquil, “I just….” A breath, “Are you sure? Like a hundred percent sure?” He laughed at your offended expression, shifting closer, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you love, that’s it.”

“Bad?” You said, with a curious tint in your voice, “Why would anything bad happen?” 

Because Yixiang doesn't like you. 

Euijoo wanted to scream it out, cradle your face in his hands and tell you those five magical words. He didn’t care if it hurt you even more than whatever Yixiang would say; he didn’t care if this one fuck up got him barred from hearing your angelic voice ever again. 

But like all men, he held his tongue.

“It’s probably nothing, I’m just worrying too much.” Euijoo laughed, settling down again, holding out his hand to pull you back for cuddles, “You know how I am, don’t you?”

“That I do.” You giggled, happily going back to your cuddling position, “We can get ready together on the 14th and I can show you what I got for Yixiang.” 

“Of course, love.” Euijoo hummed, closing his eyes to allow his mind a second of peace. Which he failed to attain, his mind sending him the most outrageous scenarios ever of the events that would transpire tomorrow.

How slowly the night did fall today.

______________

“Teach me how to kiss.” 

Byun Euijoo’s cause of death would have been asphyxiation if you didn't slap him on the back to push the popcorn lodged in his throat out.

“Is this because I said your scarves are ugly.” Euijoo said, rubbing his chest as he put the popcorn bowl down to avoid any more accidents, “Is this my karma?” 

“You’re so dramatic.” You said, pausing the show on the tv and turning to face him on the couch. You took both his hands in yours and stared at him with a seriousness that could have rivalled a professor’s, “I need you to teach me how to kiss so that I don’t fuck it up with Yixiang.” 

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” Euijoo said, running a hand through his hair, “We don’t even know what Yixiang is gonna say to you.”

“Are you saying you don’t have faith in my plan?” You said, with a pout on your lips, “You don’t trust me, Ju?”

“Of course I trust you but—”

“Then teach me.” Your faces were mere inches apart in seconds, “Teach me how to kiss.” You crossed your arms and looked at him with challenging eyes, “Or do you not love me anymore?”

It's because I love you, you idiot. 

Euijoo sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. What had life even come to? What had he done in the past for the universe to serve him this—the woman he loved asking him to teach her how to kiss—on a silver platter? Euijoo wouldn't have minded if death came for him at that moment.

“Fine.” 

“Really?” You said excitedly, clapping your hands together, “You’re the best Euijoo has anybody told you that.”

“Yeah yeah I know.” Euijoo let out a breathy chuckle. What the actual fuck was he doing? Practically every remaining inch of logic in him was screaming at him to get up and drown himself in a lake, but here he was, breathing in deeply to remind himself how to kiss. He hadn't done it in quite a while—his last casual hookup was perhaps five months ago.

"Alright, first things first. You need to relax." He moved his hands from yours to your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze before trailing his touch down your arms. "Tension is said to be the enemy of a good kiss."

“Who says that—”

“Do you want to learn or not?”

You rolled your eyes, nevertheless nodding, feeling your muscles loosen under his ministrations. Euijoo smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, gaze flickering down to your lips.

“Good, now close your eyes.” He waited until you did, then leaned in close. His breath ghosted over your lips as he spoke softly, “Now just…..picture Yixiang if it makes this easier.”

Euijoo mentally slammed his head against a pole when he heard himself say that. ‘If it makes this easier’, who the fuck even says that?

You cracked a mischievous eye open, trying to keep a smile in, when you saw how close Euijoo was, there was barely any air between you two. 

“Arms on my shoulders.” He said, you felt him shudder a bit when you followed his instructions but that could have been a figment of your imagination. His hand creeped uncertainly to rest on your thigh. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you ample time to pull away. You didn't.

Euijoo tasted like cherry cola, fizzy and electric against your lips, though his lips were soft and warm as they moved on yours like a choreographed dance. You breathed shakily into the kiss and he intertwined his fingers in yours. 

“Slow down, love.” He murmured, not opening his eyes, “We don’t have anywhere to be.” Euijoo's hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. 

In all honesty, he could have evaporated into the air right there and then. The taste of you drove him insane, sweet—oh so fucking sweet, honey straight from the comb on a spring evening, when the scent of lilacs would fill the air and there would be butterflies everywhere.

In shorter words, Byun Euijoo’s cock was screaming at him to take care of it.

“Hmm, like this?” You mumbled, and then his world came crashing down when you moved forward, practically settling yourself into his lap.

Euijoo swallowed hard, his pulse jumping at the feel of your soft curves settling into his lap. The heat of your body seeped through the fabric of his shorts, making his already throbbing cock twitch with renewed interest. He knew he should put a stop to this before it went too far, but damn if he could find the strength to do so. Not when you felt this good in his arms.

“Yeah.” He pulled back, eyes tracing over, god fuck him you were still looking at him with those innocent eyes, “Just….he might do something like this too.”

His hands slid around to the small of your back, holding you close as he went in for another one, a deeper kiss. His tongue delved past your parted lips to stroke along yours in a sensual dance that left you breathless.

“Oh…” You said, finally ending the kiss after a long moment.

“Not bad for a first timer.” Euijoo teased, “But love, could you maybe get off now?” He raised a brow as you blinked at him, once, twice and then scrambled off his lap.

“Sorry about that.” You laughed awkwardly, “Just felt I should do that for some reason.” 

“I’m sure he’d love it.” Euijoo said, how the actual hell did you not sense the tone of his voice?

“Really?” Your eyes lit up, light and giddy, “Thank you so much Ju!” You flung your arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug. Euijoo wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck. As he always did, of course. As all best friends do! 

“Wanna play some League?” You said, withdrawing from the hug.

“Sure, love.”

As all best friends fucking do.

__________________

Euijoo leaned back in his gaming chair with a heavy sigh, tossing his headset aside after a late night gaming session. He had left your house at 7 pm, walking back home with barely a brain cell left in him. You had kissed his cheek before he left as you always did, but this time, it inflamed every single molecule that made up his being. He spread his legs wide, throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling. 

The beautiful flesh of your thighs, the curve of your neck where it met your shoulders, that look in your eyes, the taste of you….

Euijoo pushed himself up, walking to his closet. Opening it, he bent down to his knees and reached deep inside, shuffling his hand around till his fingers grazed it. 

He slowly pulled it out and sighed, sitting on his knees on the floor as he stared at it, his cock already straining against his shorts. You must have bought this one on sale, you never really liked it much, which explained why you didn't notice when it went missing from your house. 

Euijoo climbed onto his bed, bringing the pair of baby-pink cotton panties up to his face. He buried his nose into the soft fabric, letting the scent fill his senses. God it smelled exactly like you, so fucking honey sweet. 

Euijoo breathed in deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent that clung to the delicate fabric. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the lingering traces of your perfume and the musk of your arousal. Would you have worn this when you let your pretty little fingers linger to your sweet cunt? The heady aroma sent a jolt of electric desire straight to his throbbing cock, making it pulse with need.

He brought the panties to his mouth, running his tongue along the crotch. The salty-sweet taste burst across his taste buds, making him groan. He closed his eyes, letting the fantasy take hold as he pictured you spread out beneath him, flushed and panting with desire.

In his mind's eye, Euijoo could see every curve of your luscious body, from your gorgeous breasts down to the enticing cleft between your thighs. He ached to bury his face in your slick folds, to lap at your dripping pussy until you were writhing and screaming his name.

As he lost himself in the erotic daydream, Euijoo fumbled with the button of his shorts, shoving them down just enough to free his straining erection. His fingers curled around his thick shaft, giving it a firm stroke as he imagined how good it would feel to drive deep inside your tight heat.

Euijoo shuddered, picturing your breathy moans as he rocked into you, stretching you open on his hard length. He could feel your velvet walls gripping him, trying to milk his cock for all he was worth. He chuckled as he imagined your mouth falling open in an ‘o’, your nails drawing blood on his back.  With each mental thrust, he pumped his hand faster along his pulsing flesh, racing towards his climax.

Tension coiled tight in Euijoo's belly as he fucked into his fist with short, sharp strokes. He could almost hear your keening cries, feel your fingers digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you with desperate abandon. 

With a strangled groan, Euijoo threw his head back as pleasure crashed over him in intense waves. His cock jerked in his grasp as he shuddered through each pulse of his orgasm, picturing your face contorted in ecstasy as you came undone beneath him.

Finally spent, Euijoo collapsed back on the bed, his chest heaving as he gulped down air. He knew it wasn't the real thing, but damn if jerking off to thoughts of you didn't make for one hell of a mind-blowing orgasm. 

“Fuck…” He said softly, tossing the panties below his bed. With a blissful sigh, he let the post-orgasmic haze pull him under into a deep, satiated slumber.

Sweet, honey filled slumber. 

_________________

Euijoo often thought before he acted, a rare quality among human beings nowadays. However, there were rare occasions where he didn’t do that, the keyword being rare.

And today was one of those rare occasions! How fun! 

God damn his cock controlled brain—the version which only operated when he was around you—for saying yes to you asking him to help you pick out a dress for the party. Euijoo dressed casually, just a pair of blue jeans and a yellow shirt that fit him tight at the chest.

You, on the other hand, were throwing out the shortest dresses from the depths of your closet. And Euijoo was only a man.

“This one?” You said, looking up and down at yourself in the mirror, glancing at Euijoo sprawled out on the bed behind you, “Don’t say it looks good, you’ve said the same thing for the last five dresses!”

“Have you ever considered the fact that it's because you look good in all of them?”

“Flattery won’t get you out of this, Byun.” You said, spinning around to face him, “Now look properly and tell me which one!”

Whichever one would keep you here and away from confessing to Yixiang.

Euijoo’s eyes raked up and down, admiring the way the short silver dress hugged every curve of your body, cutting off right at your mid thigh, the thin straps showing off your shoulders beautifully. Thank god his hand was covering his crotch.

“Doesn’t Yixiang wear a lot of red?” Euijoo said, throwing an arm over his head, feigning exhaustion, “I think the velvet one would do.”

“You’re actually a genius.” You said, crossing over to pick up the discarded red dress lying on the floor, calling out to you like gold to a midas, “And stop sulking Ju, you agreed to this on your own volition.”

“I call it manipulation.” Euijoo called out, watching you slip into the bathroom to change. As soon as you were gone, his hand worked on his crotch, slowly palming his cock through the fabric. Hopefully, there weren't any hidden cameras in this room, he thought, glancing suspiciously at your teddy bears sitting on the shelf.

“Ok what do we think?” 

Euijoo needed to dip his head into a bucket of ice water and never come up for air ever again.

The delicate fabric clung to your curves in all the right places, the neckline just low enough to be enticing—a faux vixen’s play. It nipped at your waist before flaring out slightly at the hips. Euijoo’s gaze trailed over your bare shoulders,, a shiver running down his spine as heat flushed through him.

“Hello? Earth to Byun Euijoo.” You laughed, catching your reflection in the mirror, a thrill of excitement running through you at the thought of seeing Yixiang’s eye at the party. You twirled once in front of the full-length mirror, the skirt flaring out around your thighs.

“Y-Yeah. You look good.” He said, clearing his throat, “We should go or we’ll be stuck in traffic again.” He quickly moved off the bed, his jaw clenched, pulse point in his neck fluttering away. 

Byun Euijoo was a man of many talents. Hiding his very large boner perfectly from his best friend was one of them.

___________

Wang Yixiang—resident ‘bad boy’ of the town, prominent motorcyclist, occasional tattoo artist and so much more. He was the kind of guy who could command the attention of a room without breathing a single word, splitting the ocean of a crowd in half wherever he walked in.

Euijoo knew him to be a good person; they had made quick friends after a week of being in the same basketball team. Sure, Yixiang teased the hell out of him, always with that crooked grin and sharp tongue, but there was always something warm beneath it all—a brother he could trust. 

And even when this entire situation with you and him arose, Euijoo never felt any animosity towards him. Was it because he knew deep underneath that Yixiang’s type wasn't you? Perhaps. But he was also too good of a friend to feel anything like that.

However, as he stood in the crowded room now, party lights flashing in bursts of violet, blue and gold across faces known and unknown, Euijoo couldn’t help the slow, ugly coil tightening in his chest.

Jealousy. 

What a foolish emotion that mortals had.

It sat there, heavy and unrelenting, tightening with every second he spent watching you. You stood near the edge of the living room, just far enough from the chaos to not be swallowed by it completely.

The party itself felt alive in a way that was almost overwhelming—music blasting loud enough to blur thought, bass vibrating through the floor and up his spine. The walls pulsed with shifting lights, casting everyone in flashes of color that made moments feel fragmented, like scenes spliced together too quickly. Someone had opened the windows, but the air was still thick—warm with bodies, laughter, the faint sting of alcohol, and the lingering sweetness of someone’s perfume.

And Euijoo could still pick you out from the chaos effortlessly. And you looked—

He swallowed.

He shouldn't have recommended that dress, if he knew it would make him want to faint and die every time he caught sight of your thighs.The soft fabric of your dress caught the light every time you moved, your hair falling just right over your shoulders. 

You laughed at something your friend said, tilting your head slightly, eyes crinkling at the corners—but even that laugh felt distracted, like it didn’t fully belong to the moment. Your fingers traced the rim of your cup absentmindedly, your weight shifting from one foot to the other, like you were waiting for something. 

Or someone.

Euijoo leaned back against the wall, a red cup of god knows what held up absentmindedly. He hadn't taken a sip in fifteen minutes now, choosing to alternate his gaze from you to the man you were looking at.

Yixiang stood across the corner of the room, leaning against the wall like he owned the entire world. 

Someone was saying something animatedly to him, hands moving fast, but Yixiang only half-listened, head tipped, one foot braced on the wall, gaze distant. He looked effortlessly put together—leather jacket on a tanktop, hands decorated with rings galore, a lazy kind of confidence that made people orbit him without trying.

Someone said something that made the group laugh, and Yixiang’s lips curved, that small, knowing smirk that made people lean in closer. Euijoo saw it happen in real time—the way your attention slipped mid-conversation, drawn like gravity across the room. It was subtle, anyone else might have missed it. But he never missed anything about you.

Euijoo exhaled sharply through his nose, looking at the way your shoulders eased, the way your lips parted just slightly, the way something warm and hopeful flickered through your eyes. His chest tightened painfully.

Euijoo tipped his head back, glancing at the ceiling before closing his eyes, poking the inner side of his cheek with his tongue. His mind ran back to the way you had rambled about your plan to confess to Yixiang.

“I made this.” You said, a little breathless, like you were both proud and nervous at the same time, “I’m gonna give it to him and the party and then tell him.”

Euijoo stared at the bracelet—handmade, thread woven carefully, colours chosen just perfect, small details that made it feel you. Soft and earnest in a way that made it impossible to ignore.

“He mentioned once,” You continued quickly, like you needed to justify it, “that he likes this kind of stuff. Not, like, in a serious way, just—he said it offhand, but I remembered and I thought—” You stopped yourself, laughing a little, embarrassed, “I don’t know. Is it stupid?”

You sat cross-legged on the bed, sunlight spilling in through the window. It caught in your hair, outlining you like painters outlined their muses in loving, golden light.

“He’d love it.” Euijoo finally said, heart going to his stomach at your sweet smile, “I’m sure he would.”

There had been a moment, small and fragile, where Euijoo could have said something, anything to stop you. But he just nodded away and ruffled your hair.

The memory faded slower than he wanted it to, bleeding back into the present. Euijoo opened his eyes again, the noise of the party crashing back in all at once—music, laughter, voices, light. His gaze found you again.

You were saying something now, animated, your hands moving as you talked, and your friend laughed again. Your attention flickered, split between the conversation and the figure across the room, waiting for the right moment.

Euijoo’s hands curled into loose fists at his sides. He could walk over, say something, distract you, stop this before it happened, maybe threaten arson. But he didn’t move, staying right where he was, swallowing the jealousy burning like hellfire in his throat. He merely watched as you fiddled with the bracelet in your hand, waiting for the remainder of the crowd around Yixiang to disperse.

The crowd didn’t leave all at once. It thinned slowly, like a tide pulling back—one person dragged away by a friend, another distracted by a call, a couple disappearing toward the balcony. The laughter around him dulled, the tight circle loosening until it finally broke apart.

And then he was alone. Well, as alone as someone like Wang Yixiang could be at his own party.

Jackpot!

He still leaned against the wall, a red cup in his hand, head tipped slightly as he looked down at it like he had forgotten it was there. The lights flickered over him in uneven colors, catching on the metal of his rings, tracing the line of his jaw, dipping into the hollow of his collarbone where his tank top hung loose.

For a second, you just stood there watching—entranced by his beauty. Your heart thudded so loudly it almost drowned out the music, your grip tightening around the bracelet in your hand. You could feel the threads press into your palm, grounding and terrifying all at once.

This was it—your moment to be the Echo to his Narcissus. Before you could think too hard, before doubt could creep in and ruin everything—you moved. One step, then another; you weaved through the remaining people, barely registering the way shoulders brushed yours. Because all you could see was him.

And then you were there.

Oh fucking lord here you were.

Close enough to notice the faint scent of something clean and sharp, close enough to see the small details—the faint smudge of ink near his wrist, the way his lashes cast shadows when he blinked. Even the lord couldn't save you now. You adjusted your hair and moved.

“Hey.” You said, voice coming out softer (and shakier) than you intended. Yixiang looked up. For a split second, his expression was unreadable—like he was pulling himself out of wherever his thoughts had been. And then recognition settled in, easy and familiar.

“Oh,” He said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “Hi there.” God he sounded so fucking hot, that effortless shift in his attention once it fully settled on you, “You’re here.”

You huffed out a small, nervous laugh. “Should I not be?”

“Mmhh, Euijoo usually tells me when he brings you along, so I’m just surprised.” He tilted his head, “Nice dress, you look cute.” Your cheeks warmed.

Godpleasefuckingsaveme.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly hyper-aware of everything—your posture, your voice, the way your fingers tightened around the bracelet.

“You too.” You managed, "It's a uhh…a good party.” Who the actual fuck even says that?

“Yeah?” He glanced around briefly, like he was seeing it for the first time. “Bit loud, though.”

“A bit,” You agreed, smiling. There was a beat, not too awkward. You were used to such silences between you and him. 

Yixiang shifted, pushing himself off the wall fully this time. “You want something to drink?” He asked, lifting his cup slightly before glancing at it and making a face. “Actually—don’t take this. I have no idea what this is.”

You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension in your chest. “That doesn’t sound very reassuring.”

“C’mon,” He said, nodding his head toward the kitchen. “I’ll get you something that won’t kill you.”

You hesitated for half a second (could he get his fine ass in your life) and then nodded.

You followed him through the crowd, the space parting for him without effort. It was quieter in the kitchen, the music more muffled, replaced by the low hum of the fridge and the occasional clatter of someone passing through.

Yixiang moved easily, grabbing a bottle from the counter, reaching for a clean cup. “What do you want?” He asked, glancing back at you.

“Um—anything’s fine.”

“Dangerous answer, sweetheart.” He muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice as he poured something anyway, sliding the cup toward you.

“Thanks.” You wrapped your fingers around it, but didn’t drink, mind lingering on the way his veins flexed as he closed the bottle.

Your attention wavered to the bracelet in your other hand. You tried to keep it casual, resting it loosely against your side, but you could feel it like it weighed a hundred pounds.

Say it.

Not yet.

Say it now!

Wait.

Yixiang leaned back against the counter this time, mirroring how he had stood earlier, one hand resting beside him. “You good?” He asked, eyes flicking briefly to your face. “You look like you’re thinking really hard about something.”

“Is it that obvious?” You let out a small breath, laughing nervously. 

“Little bit.” He said and your heart pounded.

Just do it!

“Actually,” you started, your voice catching before you steadied it, “I…..I made something.” His gaze dropped immediately to your hand.

“The thing you’ve been holding onto like your life depends on it?” Yixiang asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You groaned softly. “Please don’t say it like that.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He huffed out a quiet laugh, “Let me see?” Your fingers tightened for just a second before you stepped forward (an unnecessary step) and held it out to him.

Yixiang took it carefully, more careful than you expected, his rings cool against your skin as his fingers brushed yours, your brain almost stopped.

“You made this?” he asked, the teasing edge in his expression softened, something more thoughtful settling in its place as he turned the bracelet slightly between his fingers, tracing the threads, the details.

“Yeah,” you said, suddenly very aware of the distance between you. “I—um—I remembered you said you liked stuff like that, so I thought—”

“It’s nice,” he cut in gently.

Your breath hitched. Tension is the enemy of a good kiss.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded once, still looking at it. “It’s…..really nice.” Relief bloomed in your chest, warm and bright and terrifying all at once.

“This is for me?” he asked, glancing back up at you. You nodded, a small pause. “What’s the occasion?”

And there it was. Your moment of salvation.

Your stomach flipped. Your fingers curled slightly around your cup, grounding yourself as you forced the words past the sudden tightness in your throat.

“I just—” you started, then stopped, letting out a breath. “I wanted to tell you something.”

“Oookay.” Yixiang drawled, expression not changing, “Go on, I’m listening.” You swallowed.

Now.

“I like you,” You said, the words rushing out before you could stop them. “I have for a while, actually, and I just—I wanted you to know. And I thought maybe—” your voice faltered, “—maybe you’d feel the same. Or…..something like that.”

Euijoo once told you a quote that he had made up on a June evening—‘Silence is the food of love’. You had zero idea what he meant by that but you went along anyway, letting him brush a strand of hair behind your ear as you two ate pizza.

This silence was torturous, long enough for your heartbeat to feel unbearably loud. Yixiang blinked once, then looked down at the bracelet again, turning it slowly between his fingers.

And then he laughed. It would have been better if he laughed loudly in a mocking way as he usually did, throwing his head back and practically bellowing. 

But oh the way he laughed now, so softly and gently, as one does to comfort a child who’s had a nightmare. You felt your heart melt in its cage, he laughed so kindly.

“Hey,” He said, stepping a little closer. His hand came up, resting lightly on your shoulder, warm and steady, and somehow, apologetic.

“You’re really sweet,” he said, voice gentler now. “Like—really. This?” he lifted the bracelet slightly, “This is probably one of the nicest things anyone’s done for me.” Your throat tightened. “But…” he continued, and the word felt inevitable.

“I don’t think I’m your guy.”

The sentence landed softly, spoken like a poem. But god it still landed. You forced yourself to hold his gaze. He didnt even look uncomfortable or weirded out, he just looked so fucking calm. And you were drowning in the ocean.

“I’m just—not really looking for anything like that,” he went on, his thumb brushing lightly over the threads of the bracelet. “And even if I was…” he exhaled quietly, a small, almost self-aware smile tugging at his lips, “you’re not really my type.”

It was the fact that he said it so gently, practically cajoling you. He could have, should have, screamed it at you instead, laughed cruel and high and told you to piss off. But he said it like he was comforting you, letting you down easy and then you felt the ocean rise higher.

“I mean that in the best way,” he added quickly, his hand giving your shoulder a small squeeze. “You’re—good. Like, actually good. You deserve someone who’s gonna… I don’t know, not be me.”

All you wanted was him.

“I-” You started, eyes at the floor, your breaths coming a bit too quick, like you couldn't get enough air.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? Should I call Euijoo or—”

“No.” The word came out faster than you intended. You shook your head immediately, stepping back. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, even though it was obvious you weren’t. “I just—need some air.” You didn’t wait for a response, didn’t give him time to say anything else that might make this worse, or kinder, or harder to leave.

You turned and walked out. You made it through the kitchen, past the doorway, back into the chaos of the party. The music slammed into you again, loud and disorienting, lights flashing too bright, people moving too close. It felt suffocating now—every laugh too sharp, every voice too loud.

Your vision blurred at the edges as you pushed through the crowd, murmuring quiet apologies when you bumped into someone, your grip tightening around nothing now—the cup long forgotten somewhere behind you.

Don’t cry.

Don’t cry.

Don’t—

By the time you reached the door, your steps had quickened. By the time you stepped outside, you were running. The cool night air hit you like a shock, sharp against your skin, but it didn’t help. If anything, it made everything worse, made it all feel too real.

Your vision blurred completely now, tears spilling over before you could stop them, breath hitching as you stumbled a few steps forward, arms wrapping around yourself like you could hold everything in.

It hurt.

God it fucking hurt.

__________

Euijoo was known among your circle of friends for being highly perceptive. He somehow knew exactly what someone was going through even before that person could get a word out. He didn't need the other person to say a word—he’d just sit there in silence alongside them, tissues and water in hand, until they were ready to talk or cry.

Euijoo didn’t hear what was said—didn’t need to. He saw the way you moved, too fast, too abrupt, your head down and your shoulders tight. And then you were gone out the door before he could even say anything. 

Euijoo straightened instantly, the cup in his hand abandoned on the nearest surface without a second thought. Something sharp surged through him, cutting clean through everything else as he moved 

“Hey—where are you—” His friend Fuma started, but he was already pushing past, eyes fixed on the door you had disappeared through.

“Euijoo!” A hand caught his arm briefly. He turned, just enough to see Yixiang standing there, brows drawn slightly, gaze flicking toward the door and then back to him.

“Are you—” Yixiang began, an uncertain tone to his voice. His gaze darted toward the door, then back to Euijoo like he was trying to piece something together too late. “Just tell her I’m sorry.” 

The words hung there for a second. Euijoo held his gaze for just a moment longer, something unreadable passing through his eyes. Then he gave a small nod.

“It’s not your fault, Nicho.” He sighed, “She’s just….” He thought about it for a second and then shook his head, looking up at Yixiang with a faint smile, “I’ll tell her.”

Yixiang nodded, hand slipping away from his arm as he disappeared into the party, and for a fraction of a second, Euijoo stayed there. 

Thinking, pondering, wondering……whatever other synonym for his brain sending him thoughts existed. Beneath that anger and ache and every other fucked up emotion tangled within the crevices of his heart, there lay something else. Something he hated himself for. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, gone almost as soon as it appeared.

You were hurting.

And entirely his to take care of now.

Euijoo turned without another word, pushing through the door and into the cool night air, his eyes already searching for his car. You probably would have ran all the way home—in heels? Sure an unlikely probability but hey, a broken heart is capable of wonderous things.

Truly wonderous things.

________________

“Love?” Euijoo knocked on the door as softly as he could, knuckles barely making a sound against the wood—like anything louder might shatter whatever fragile state you were in on the other side.

For a moment, there was nothing, neither movement nor sound. Just the quiet hum of the night stretching between him and you. He shifted his weight slightly, jaw tightening, resisting the urge to knock again. His hands curled at his sides instead, forcing himself to be patient.

You’d open it. You always did.

A faint sound finally came from inside—shuffling, uneven footsteps and the soft click of the lock. And then the door creaked open.

Euijoo swore he’d never seen anyone this beautiful before. 

Eyes glassy, our cheeks were flushed a deep, aching red, tear tracks visible under the dim porch light. You'd changed out from your dress, wearing an oversized shirt and shorts now. Your hair—usually so carefully done—had fallen loose and messy, strands sticking to your damp skin, framing your face in a way that stole the breath from his lungs. The Goddess of beauty could have stood in front of him and all he’d see was you.

Every piece of you was laid bare in front of him and something in his mind told him to be proud of this fact. Only he could see you like this. So unperfectly perfect.

“Hey,” he said quietly. Your lips parted like you were about to say something—maybe to explain, maybe to brush it off, maybe to tell him you were fine, but nothing came out.

Instead, your face crumpled and that was enough. Euijoo didn’t wait for any more words. He stepped forward gently, one hand coming up instinctively to cradle the side of your head as he pulled you into him, the other wrapping around your shoulders, steady and firm.

“I’ve got you.” He murmured, voice low. “It’s okay, I’m right here, love.”

His sweet voice was all it took.

The tears came again, stronger this time, your body folding into his as a broken sob left your chest, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt like it was the only thing holding you up. He held you tighter, one hand smoothing over your hair, slow and repetitive, the other pressed securely against your back as he guided you inside without breaking the hold.

“Come on.” He said softly, nudging the door shut behind him with his foot. “Let’s just sit down, yeah?”

You nodded weakly, though your grip on him didn’t loosen. Euijoo led you to the couch, movements careful, like you might fall apart if he went too fast. He sat first, gently pulling you down with him, guiding you until you were tucked against his side.

He adjusted so you were comfortable, your head resting naturally against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you properly. Your breaths came uneven, breaking apart into soft, shaky sobs that you tried to stifle but couldn’t quite manage. Your fingers curled into his shirt, holding on like you were afraid he might disappear if you let go.

Euijoo didn’t say anything. He just stayed, one hand moving slowly through your hair, untangling gentle knots, tucking strands away from your face. The other rubbed small, steady circles into your arm with a quiet rhythm.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Euijoo murmured, tilting his head slightly toward yours.

“For not listening to you.” You said, barely lifting your head, “You know….when you said I’m not his type and he’d probably just—”

“Hey, no.” Euijoo said, arm tightening around you like he was physically stopping the thought from going any further. “Don’t do that.” You let out a weak, shaky breath, your fingers curling tighter into his shirt.

“But you were right,” you whispered, voice small, almost embarrassed. “You told me and I still—I still went and—”

“And what?” He cut in softly. There was that familiar soft scolding tone to his voice, “You liked someone,” he continued, a little quieter now. “And you told them. That’s not something you apologize for, love.”

“It feels stupid,” you admitted, your voice cracking again. “I made that bracelet and everything and I just—I really thought—” Your words dissolved into another broken breath. Euijoo’s hand slowed in your hair, his fingers smoothing gently over the strands before resting briefly at the back of your head. 

“It’s not stupid, love.” Euijoo said, after a brief moment of calming silence, “It’s just….life.” You laughed against his shoulder but he continued, “That doesn’t make it stupid,” he said. “It just means he didn’t feel the same.”

“That’s worse.” You mumbled and a quiet exhale left him.

Well wouldn't he know?

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It kind of is.”

“I just—” you swallowed, your voice smaller now, worn out from crying, “I really liked him, Euijoo.”

“I know,” he murmured, oh if only you knew.

“I thought……maybe if I did it right—if I was…” you hesitated, searching for the word, “enough—”

“Hey.”

This time it wasn’t just his voice. His hand shifted from your hair to gently cup the side of your face, guiding you to look up at him. Your eyes met his and you almost gasped at how gentle they were.

“Don’t finish that sentence like that,” he said quietly. There was something different in his expression now, something a little more serious, “You being ‘enough’ has nothing to do with whether he likes you or not.”

Your brows pulled together slightly, like you didn’t quite believe him. Euijoo’s thumb brushed lightly under your eye, catching a tear before it could fall.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, love.” he continued. “You didn’t mess it up. You didn’t say it weird or give the wrong thing or pick the wrong moment.” A small pause. “He just wasn’t the right person to hear it.”

The words settled between you, softly heavy. Your gaze stayed on his for a moment longer than before, like you were trying to find something in them—something steady enough to latch onto and pull yourself up.

“I just…” you exhaled shakily, “I really thought tonight would be different.” Euijoo didn’t interrupt, just watching you, “I even thought…” you let out a small, almost embarrassed laugh, dropping your gaze again, “I thought maybe I’d have my second kiss tonight.”

Byun Euijoo was a man of many talents.

Stopping the blood rushing to his dick at those words was not one of them.

“Your second kiss?” He said, voice somehow very steady. 

“Yeah.” You laughed again, wiping your tears and sniffling, “You were my first, remember?”

Oh.

Right.

Your….first…kiss….

Euijoo went very still, chest tightening at the memory, sweet as honey straight from the comb. He swallowed, staring, just staring at you. You were talking about something else now with shy laughs and not one word was going through his head. All he could see was the fact that he was his sweet girl’s first kiss. 

“I don’t know....” You sighed, not noticing the storm brewing in his gaze, too busy fiddling with your fingers, “Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe kissing him wouldn't have felt that good.” You shook your head faintly, “You know, like how it felt with you.”

God should have struck Byun Euijoo and his dick-controlled mind down right there and then.

Well at least before he said his next words.

“Would you like to feel like that again?” 

Great job, you horny idiot.

“Mmh?” You said, looking up at him with those widened eyes, “Did you say something Ju?”

God this girl is testing me. Euijoo's jaw clenched, his mind reeling from the image of your lips on anyone else. No, you were his to cherish, to claim in ways that would erase any doubt. He swallowed hard, voice dropping to a low, husky rumble that sent shivers down your spine. 

“I asked—” He leaned closer, half lidded eyes flickering down to your lips and staying there, “—if you’d like to feel like that again, love?”

They say seduction is a delicate art—fragile like a domino, one wrong move and poof! Everything is gone. However, when one’s mind is high under the influence of stupid, stupid human emotions, the domino will stay upright no matter what western wind hits it.

“Only if you want to, love.” Euijoo said, tilting his head with a soft smile, “I just want to make you feel better, you know that right?”

Your eyes widened, cheeks flushing hot as his words sank in. Hesitation flickered through you—nerves twisting in your stomach at the implication—but the trust you'd placed in him, the way he'd always made you feel safe, pulled you under. 

Euijoo was your best friend, of course he’d only want the best for you right? His soft gaze was locked onto you, a gentle anchor in the storm. 

“Yeah….” You nodded slowly, barely a whisper escaping, “Yeah I think I’d like that, Ju.”

Euijoo’s warm smile eased the tension in your chest as he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, running a thumb over the skin. You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch without protest.

“Just…..tell me if you want to stop.” 

Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Yeah, like he was ever going to stop.

It was soft at first, a tender kiss meant to soothe. You hesitated, your shyness making your cheeks flush, but the fucked up emotions bubbling inside you craved the comfort. And something else inside you was starved of this kind of touch. You parted your lips, letting him deepen the kiss, unaware of the drastic effect it was having on your best friend. His mouth moved against yours with affectionate slowness, his tongue slipping in to taste you, coaxing a quiet sigh from your throat.

“Ju….” You said, melting into the kiss, one hand resting on his chest while the other rested on his shoulder.

“Hmm?” Euijoo said, pulling back just enough, his eyes dark, “Do you want to stop, love?” 

In hindsight, you probably should have stopped. You had maybe two cups of shitty alcohol in you and he was your best friend. But for some stupid reason he tasted soooo good. And no one gives up nectar do they?

“Want more.” You said, breathing a bit heavy, eyes flickering down to his plump lips, “Please?”

Byun Euijoo was a dead man as soon as those syllables spilled from your mouth.

“More?” He said, his hand cupping the back of your neck, lips curving into a faint smile. His free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush, his erection already hardening against your thigh—a thick, insistent bulge that made you gasp. 

“More what, my love?”

My love.

In that moment, Euijoo looked simply divine—the golden light of the lamplight illuminating his soft features, those plush cheeks and those eyes that seemed like deep pools of honey. He always called you ‘love’. He’d never called you his love before though. And some part of you really really liked it.

“Euijoo….” You sighed, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks and other parts of your body, “I want you to kiss me.” His eyes darkened at your response, a small smirk playing on his lips. You giggled, feeling every emotion in the world get to your brain all at once, “I want you to kiss me aaalll over.”  

Now who was Euijoo to deny you? A best friend that behaved like a best friend? Please. 

“As you wish, my love.” 

In an instant, he closed the distance, his large hand cupping the back of your neck as he drew you in. His lips crashed against yours, hungry, tongue slipping past to taste you properly. You melted into the kiss, your frame pressing against his solid chest.

The kiss grew hungrier as you melted into it, your hands clutching at his shirt. Euijoo's fingers threaded through your hair, holding you steady as your tongues danced. He nipped at your bottom lip, drawing a small gasp from you, and you felt the tension in your body start to uncoil. Making out with him felt so intimate and unhurried, pushing everything else—Yixiang, false personas, bracelets—to the edges of your mind and replacing it with the heat building between you.

Euijoo’s hands moved to grip your hips, lifting you up effortlessly. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, gasping as sat you down on his lap. It was nothing much—you had sat there multiple times in the past. But you were just friends back then and now you were…..something else. 

"E-Euijoo..." You breathed out, tangling your fingers in his hair as he started to trail kisses along your jawline. His teeth nipped at your earlobe, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Mmhh, you’re such a pretty girl.” Euijoo murmured against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your ass. “So fucking beautiful.”

He ground his hips against yours, letting you feel just how hard he was. The friction of his erection rubbing against your clothed core had you squirming and mewling, desperate for more.

“Ju I—”

“Let me take care of you, love.” Euijoo pulled back just enough to speak, his forehead resting against yours, breath mingling, “I’ll make it all go away for you.” HIs voice was so very low, like a soft desperate prayer, “Do you trust me?”

You nodded, your heart pounding. Innocence clung to you like a veil—you'd never gone this far, never let anyone touch you like this. The thought of it scared you, made your stomach twist with nerves. But it was Euijoo. And Euijoo would never want to hurt you right?

“Are you sure?” You said, your voice trembling, “What if I don’t…you know—” You swallowed, god the thought of your first time being unsexy as fuck terrified you, “do it right?”

But Euijoo, sweet sweet Euijoo only smiled gently, cupping your face in his hands. His hands were the most familiar thing in the world, and right now, they felt like home.

“There is no right way, baby.” He said, pressing a kiss to your nose, “I’ll go slow alright? Just relax for me, hm?” His words wrapped around you like a blanket, reassuring and warm, easing the fear knotting in your chest.

His hand slid down your side, fingers splaying over your hip, thumb brushing the edge of your shirt. You whimpered, the sound fueling his desire, and he guided you backward toward the couch, laying you down with careful strength.

You looked like the most ethereal thing in the world—the kind of thing poets would write about when they tried to describe beautiful things. The kind of thing the gods would fight over—with your hair splayed all over, chest rising up and down and your flushed cheeks. Pretty, pretty girl.

Euijoo’s hands roamed your body over your clothes at first, tracing your curves until you arched into him. He kissed down your neck, sucking lightly on your skin as he tugged your shirt up and off, exposing your bra. You shivered, feeling exposed yet safe under his gaze.

“Euijoo…” you breathed, fingers tangling in his hair.

He laid you down gently on the couch, his kisses trailing lower, over your stomach, fingers hooking into your shorts and tugging them down along with your panties.  Naked now, vulnerable, you tried to close your thighs, but he nudged them apart with his knee, settling between.

Euijoo hovered over you, his weight a comforting cage as he kissed you again, slower now. His tongue explored your mouth, intoxicating strokes that left you breathless, while his hand ventured to your skin, palm warm against you. You arched into his touch, innocence cracking under the wave of need he ignited.

“So fucking beautiful baby.” He whispered, voice rough. You squirmed beneath him, heat pooling between your legs as he lavished attention on your body, kissing your thigh softly. His eyes darkened with desire as he looked at your bare pussy, already glistening from the make-out session.

God she’s so adorable.

Euijoo leaned down, mouth latching onto one peak, sucking firmly while his thick fingers teased the other, pinching just enough to draw a gasp from you. The size of his hand dwarfed your chest, making every caress feel overwhelmingly possessive. 

You knew what he was going to do—stick those thick, girthy fingers into your wet folds and make you see heaven. You’d read about it so many times, letting your little fingers wander and leave you on the edge of an orgasm but never quite hit that sweet spot. Would your best friend really be able to reach it?

“Love.” Euijoo said, calling your gaze to his, “Just breathe for me, alright? I’ll go slow, I promise.” How sweet he sounded, even as his index finger nudged dangerously high up your inner thigh. The size of his hands made your breath hitch; you were so very untouched and you weren’t sure if they were even going to fit. 

But then he was pushing one finger inside and your back was already arching, your head pressing deeper back into the cushion as your mouth hung open in an ‘o’. The stretch burned slightly as your walls gripped him tight tight tight.

“Fuck you’re tight.” Euijoo swore under his breath, tilting his head at you, eyes full of (faux) sympathy, “You want me to continue baby?” He was fighting a battle with himself not to moan at your already fucked out face, hair sprawled all over, those eyes looking up at him so very drunkenly. 

“Hmmm…” You hummed, “Feel so good Ju….want more, please?” 

Oh you were going to be the death of him.

“Of course, my love.” His touch was electric, making a string of whimpers seep out of your mouth. His eyes went to where he had breached you and Euijoo almost moaned. You were taking his finger so well, he couldn't help but imagine you taking his cock.

You moaned loud, the discomfort fading into bliss, and he added a second finger, scissoring to stretch you wider. The fullness was intense, the girth filling you in a way that bordered on too much, but the pleasure overrode it. 

“Oh oh fuck!” You screamed as he curled his fingers to hit a particular spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids, “Euijoo right there—oh goddd….”

So that was where your clit was. And how easily Euijoo found it, as if he’d been training for this moment his entire life. How funny it was that your best friend knew you so very well.

“Right there?” Euijoo cooed, now rubbing slow circles on your clit with his thumb, his ego was filled to the brim that he’d found her so quick, “You like that, my love?” He thrust them deeper, thumb on your clit, and your orgasm crashed over you easily—body shaking, pussy clenching around his fingers as you cried out his name.

That precipice of pleasure you’d always stood at but never crossed was gone now, and you were floating in the ocean, the waves cradling you to their warmth. You cried out his name like a ballad, body trembling as he coaxed you through it, whispering how good you were for him. 

 As you came down, panting, he withdrew his fingers slowly, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean. The sight made your core clench again, a fresh wave of heat flooding you. His tongue swirled round his finger like he was licking up nectar. Euijoo watched you with affectionate eyes, leaning down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself.

“See how sweet you are?” He murmured, one hand gripping your thigh open, “I’m just going to do something, and I promise it’ll feel good, okay?” 

You merely nodded, desperate now to feel that wave of pleasure in your chest again. Whatever Euijoo did would feel like heaven and you were up for it wholeheartedly.

Euijoo's gaze locked onto yours, dark with desire, as he slid down your body slowly. His hands parted your thighs wider, making you shiver in anticipation. He settled between your legs like he belonged, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, sending sparks racing up your spine.

Without a word, Euijoo dipped his head and pressed his mouth to your pussy, his tongue flicking out to trace a long, firm stroke from your entrance to your clit. The warmth of his tongue contrasted with the lingering ache from your recent orgasm, reigniting the fire in your core. You gasped, hips bucking instinctively toward him, but he held you steady with firm hands on your inner thighs.

"Stay still, love," he murmured against your skin, the vibration of his voice humming through you. 

Then he dove in fully, his lips sealing around your clit, sucking gently at first, drawing it between his teeth with just enough pressure to make your toes curl. His tongue swirled in tight, insistent circles, lapping at the swollen nub with expert precision, as if mapping every nerve ending.

Pleasure built rapidly, a coiling tension in your belly that had you threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. Euijoo groaned in response, the sound muffled as he buried his face deeper, his nose brushing your mound while his tongue delved lower. You tasted like no heaven could ever compare. 

He licked broad stripes along your slit, gathering your arousal on his tongue before plunging it inside you, fucking you with shallow thrusts that mimicked what he needed to do with his currently painfully hard cock. Your breaths came in ragged pants, each lap and suck sending jolts of ecstasy radiating outward. 

"Euijoo... oh! Just like that—oh fuck Ju!" you whimpered, your body arching off the couch. He hummed approval, the vibration intensifying everything, and alternated between sucking your clit hard and flattening his tongue to rub firm, relentless pressure over it.

He was relentless, affectionate in his hunger, one hand sliding up to pinch and roll your nipple while the other kept your thigh pinned. Your pussy throbbed under his assault, walls fluttering as another climax approached, faster and fiercer than the last. 

Euijoo sensed it, redoubling his efforts—tongue flicking rapidly, lips tugging, until you shattered again, crying out as waves of bliss crashed through you, your release coating his chin.

He didn't stop, gentling his touches to guide you through the aftershocks, kissing your inner thighs softly before looking up at you with a satisfied, glistening smile. 

“Taste so perfect, my love.” He said, voice husky, crawling back up to claim your lips in a deep, sharing kiss, “So good for me…” 

“Ju…” You kissed him back, mind already hazy, “Euijoo…..want moreee..” You were whining away your words, not even sure if they were coherent enough. Euijoo only chuckled.

“More?” He said, eyes meeting yours with a spark of deeper hunger, “Baby, aren’t you tired?” The afterglow of your orgasms lingered, but the air between you crackled with unspoken want.

“Mmmhh…” You moaned, staring up at him with half-lidded eyes that made his dick twitch, “—promised you’d make me feel good….” You were blabbering yet again, trying and failing to raise your hips to meet his pelvis, “want your cock Ju please please pleeaseeee…”

It was in that moment that Byun Euijoo truly realised the beauty of life. The day had started off with him waking up to a raging boner because of a wet dream with you and now the sun was about to set with his cock nestled deep in your warm walls. Life was amazing.

“Oh?” Euijoo said, his voice roughened by desire, “What was that sweetheart?” 

“Want your cock…” You whined again, bold hands coming up to tug at his hair. You pulled him down for a sloppy kiss and Euijoo swore he could have busted a nut right there and then, “Please Ju?” 

“Of course, my love.” He cooed at you, as he scooped you up effortlessly, your body limp against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, heart racing at the intimacy of being carried like this.

He carried you up the stairs to the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him as he laid you down on the soft sheets. The sheets you two had once cuddled in, talked each other’s ears off and cried your hearts out. The very bedroom Byun Euijoo would be making use of the one talent he commanded well. What is it, you may ask? Taking the virginity of his best friend, of course. 

You bit your lip, hesitation flooding back as he stripped off his shirt, revealing the lean muscles of his torso. His pants followed, and when he pushed down his boxers, your eyes widened at the sight of his cock—thick and long, veins pulsing along its length, the head already leaking pre-cum. 

The size of it dwarfed anything you'd imagined, making your untouched pussy clench in a mix of fear and curiosity. Thought of him inside you sent a cold shiver down your spine. And heat to your legs but never mind that. 

“Ju…” You murmured, voice trembling as you sat up slightly, pulling the sheet over yourself, “I don’t know if I can…”

Euijoo knelt on the bed, his hands gentle as he pulled the sheet away, exposing you again. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing over your features, making you look even more beautiful. 

“Hey, look at me.” He said softly, cupping your face. His thumb brushed your cheek, eyes locking onto yours with that loving reassurance, “You trust me right? I’ll make it good for you baby, I swear.” His words melted your resistance, “But if you want to stop, just tell me and I’ll stop, hm?”

You nodded, lying back as he positioned himself between your legs, his broad frame hovering over you. He kissed you deeply, tongue stroking yours to distract and soothe, while one hand guided his cock to your entrance. 

In all honesty you couldn't believe this was happening. You'd always imagined your first time, chocolates, candles and roses and a man with a brow piercing. You’d imagined softness, hands perfectly molded and the feeling of ultimate pleasure.

Euijoo’s hand was warmly familiar in yours and the scent of him was comforting, chocolates and roses and soft laughter that never failed to steady the ground beneath your feet. You let yourself sink into the mattress, going almost dumb and pliant for him. My my, did he look weirdly gorgeous.

Euijoo gripped the base of his cock, guiding the thick head to your entrance, rubbing it slowly along your folds to coat himself in your wetness. The pressure against your clit made you gasp, a fresh spark of arousal igniting low in your belly.

“Breathe for me, my love.” Euijoo whispered in your ear, kissing just beneath it, one of his hands entwined in yours and the other holding your hip.

“Euijoo….” 

And then you could feel him everywhere. 

From between your legs to your chest to your throat, everything was just Euijoo Euijoo Euijoo. Sweet Euijoo, pretty Euijoo, your Euijoo. 

“Baby?” Euijoo panted, ever so worried about you even when his dick was being squeezed for all it was worth by your walls, “Baby, you with me?” His hand intertwined with yours, squeezed gently as he paused, not even halfway in yet. You were just too damn tight. 

“Ju ohhhh…” You groaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head, “feel so—fuckkkk—feel so full Ju…”

And he wasn't even halfway in. 

Euijoo's dick twitched again as he chuckled and brought his hand up to cradle your cheek. “I know, my love I know. I’m going to push in, ok?”

The stretch burned as he pushed, his thickness forcing your walls to yield. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, the pain sharp and unfamiliar. “It hurts..” you whimpered, tears pricking your pretty eyes, which only drove Euijoo more insane. He paused, letting you adjust, his breath warm against your lips.

"That's it, you're doing so well," he praised, voice low and soothing. He kissed you softly, tongue slipping in to distract as he sank deeper, filling you halfway before stopping again. Your body tensed, god you were so fucking full, but the ache blended with a deep, throbbing pleasure that made your toes curl.

“Euijoo…..oh…” You moaned sweetly against his lips.

“ know, shh…” he breathed against your lips, freezing until you adjusted. “Breathe with me. You're so tight, taking me like this—fuck, you're perfect.” 

Inch by breathtaking inch, he sank deeper, his cock filling you completely, the size making you feel impossibly stretched. He bottomed out with a groan, hips flush against yours, and held still, letting you acclimate to the fullness.

“Are you alright, my love?” Euijoo said, eyes tracing over you, “Open your eyes baby, let me see those pretty eyes, thaaat’s a good girl.”

“So good Ju….” You moaned, the air whooshing out your lungs at the sight of him, strands of hair falling onto his forehead, slightly hiding his eyes, plush pink kissable lips, “Move…please.”

The pain ebbed into a dull ache, replaced by a growing warmth as he began to move—shallow thrusts at 

first, pulling out just enough to slide back in. You moaned softly, the sound escaping unbidden, your body betraying your initial hesitation.

"Feels good?" he asked, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. You bit your lip, nodding, shifting your hips experimentally.

His pace was unhurried, each thrust long and measured, draaagging his cock along your inner walls to hit sensitive spots that made constellations flicker in your vision. The friction built gradually, your arousal easing the way, turning the stretch into pure bliss.

Euijoo's hand released yours to brace on the mattress beside your head, his other sliding under your thigh to hook your leg higher on his waist. This angle let him grind deeper, the head of his cock nudging your cervix with each full stroke, sending jolts of pleasure radiating through your core. You moaned, wrapping your arms around Euijoo’s neck, pulling him closer as your bodies moved in sync like voices harmonizing. 

He kissed your neck, sucking lightly at the skin while his hips rolled steadily, fucking you with a rhythm that was both tender and insistent. Sweat beaded on his skin, his lean muscles flexing with every controlled push, the dim light casting shadows that highlighted the intimacy of it all. Your pussy fluttered around him, growing wetter, the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin filling the room alongside your shared breaths.

Your whines grew louder, pornographic moans spilling out as you clutched at him, hips starting to rock in rhythm. The corruption of your innocence fueled his desire—he watched your face contort in bliss, his shy girl giving way to raw need. It snapped something in him; his eyes darkened, grip tightening on your hips as he went feral.

“Fuck baby—ah hahh—sound so pretty for me—shit…” He growled, thrusting harder now, the bed creaking under the force. 

His cock pounded into you, relentless and deep, the size making every plunge overwhelming. You cried out, legs wrapping around his waist, the pain fully forgotten in the haze of ecstasy. Euijoo buried his face in your neck, teeth grazing your skin before biting down—sharp nips that marked you as his, followed by his tongue licking the spots soothingly. 

“Mine.” He murmured between licks, sucking at your pulse point while his hips snapped forward, “Mine all mine, aren’t you pretty girl?” The loving bites sent jolts straight to your core, heightening the build-up, “Say it for me, my love.”

“Y-Yours…..” You managed to stutter out, almost screaming when his hand slipped between your bodies to circle your clit with his thumb, “Yours Euijoo! God, only yours—oh fuck fuck!”

The first orgasm hit you suddenly, your pussy clamping down on his thick length as waves crashed through you. “Euijoo!” you sobbed, body arching off the bed. He didn't slow, fucking you through it, his groans vibrating against your neck.

“One more, my love.” he demanded, voice husky with control, “You can do it, I know you can.” 

His thrusts turned punishing, cock stretching you wide with each brutal drive. He bit your neck again, harder this time, tongue lapping at the sting as his hand pinned your thigh open wider. The coil in your belly tightened, pleasure mounting with each deep plunge.

"Euijoo... closer," you gasped, and he obliged, draping his body over yours fully, his chest pressing to your breasts as he thrust harder but still languidly, drawing out every inch. 

Your orgasm hit like a slow wave this time, crashing over you in shuddering pulses, your pussy milking his cock as you cried out, nails raking down his back. Cum leaked from where you joined, your moans turning to breathless pleas.

Euijoo followed soon after, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a guttural moan, his bites softening to tender licks as he rode out his release. He rocked through it, prolonging both your releases, before collapsing gently beside you, both panting in the afterglow. He pulled you into his arms, his hand smoothing over the back of your head, cock still twitching inside as he kissed your marked neck.

“You did so well.” He shepherd, kissing the crown of your head, holding you close in the quiet of the room, “Perfect, my love.” 

 His heart pounded against your ear, the steady rhythm gradually slowing as exhaustion seeped into your bones. Euijoo eventually pulled out as slowly as he could, peppering your face with soft kisses as he did, fingers combing through your hair in soothing strokes.

“Hmm Euijoo…” You hummed sleepily, opening your eyes only a slight crack.

“Yes, love?” 

“I think….” You giggled tiredly, wrapping your arms around him, “I don't like Yixiang any more.”

“Oh?” Euijoo fought his smile back, tucking your head under his chin as he rolled onto his side, keeping you firmly tucked against his chest, “Then who do you like baby?” 

Your breathing evened out, growing slow and steady. Euijoo watched as your lashes fluttered closed, a look of pure adoration on his face. 

“I think I like you…” You mumbled, “I think I really really like you.” You giggled drunkenly again, “Is that stupid Ju?” 

For a moment, Euijoo didn’t breathe. The words were quiet, slurred with sleep, barely more than a murmur but they settled into him like something sacred, like something that had been waiting patiently for a place to land.

I think I really, really like you

His chest tightened first, sharp, almost startling  before it gave way to something warmer. It spread slowly, blooming beneath his ribs, petal by petal, until it filled him completely. Achingly, impossibly full.

He looked down at you, half-curled against him, your face relaxed in sleep, lashes resting gently against your cheeks. You had no idea what you’d just done to him, no idea how those few drowsy words had unraveled something deep inside his chest.

“No my love, it’s not stupid.” He hummed, thumb brushing absent circles against your arm as if to pull himself to earth, “It’s not stupid at all.”  Euijoo swallowed, his hold on you tightening instinctively, like some small, instinctive part of him was afraid you might slip away if he didn’t, “I really really like you too.” 

“Mmmh good.” You mumbled before giving in to your sleep, your breathing becoming more shallow as you drifted off to sleep. 

“You have no idea, do you?” Euijoo murmured under his breath, voice so soft it barely existed. His lips pressed gently to your hair again, lingering this time.

 "I love you," he whispered, voice hoarse with emotion. "So fucking much." Carefully, like you were something fragile, he pulled you closer and for once, he let himself feel it fully. As the last rays of sun faded from the sky, Euijoo followed you into a peaceful slumber.

Byun Euijoo was a man of many talents.

Getting his girl was now officially one of them.

fin. 

A/N: gang im not lying i legit came writing this fic UGH BYUN EUIJOO MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN if yall know anything about me you guys know i am no 1 cheater BUT I HAVE LEGIT NEVER CHEATED ON THIS MAN WITH ANYBODY ELSE IN &TEAM like that's the power he holds over me. anyways im gonna go stare at his concept photos now bye

“Baby, I’m ho-” Euijoo's voice came to a halt, body freezing in the doorway when he heard muffled sounds coming from the bedroom just a few feet away. 

He knew exactly what they were. He chuckled to himself, quietly closing the apartment door so you wouldn’t register he was home before removing his shoes and placing his bag down on the floor beside them. He was going to savour this moment, which turned out to be the first time he had ever walked in on you fucking yourself. It was pretty impressive he never managed to catch you before, considering you had been in a relationship for nearly two years, but you were always good about being sneaky- at least until today, it seemed. 

He cautiously made his way over to the bedroom, silently thanking the gods above that the apartment did not possess squeaky flooring. The door was slightly ajar, allowing him to just barely make out the mirror in the corner of the room. He watched how you locked eyes with yourself, mouth hanging wide open while you moaned beneath the touch of your own hand.

“Holy- mph- fuck!” You screamed, eyes rolling backwards as you huffed loudly. Euijoo honed in on your fingers- so dainty and beautifully decorated with a couple of rings- circling your clit. He wished he could have a better look, but he didn’t want to ruin this for himself. He was fucking loving it. “Euijoo,” you choked, drool coating your chin and pussy drenching the sheets, “make me come!”

Euijoo’s heart began to race, blood rushing straight to his cock as he heard you whine his name. So, this is something you like, huh? He thought to himself, eyes darkening and a wicked grin plastered on his face. Good to know.

He was going to have so much fun with this newfound information.

You: sorry, i was wrapping up a few things in the office so im running late 😔

Euijoo: no worries, baby ❤️it’s a stay-at-home date, no rush!!

You: you are too kind ugh, see you soon, i love you ❤️

This was perfect. It gave Euijoo a little bit of extra time to finish setting things up for the date, seeing as he was slightly behind with making sure everything was ready, anyway. 

He was most excited to witness the look on your face when what you thought was just going to be a standard date night turned into a surprise visit from teasing and unbearable sexual tension.

“Euijoo,” you cooed, pushing yourself through the front door. The scent of spaghetti bolognese filled up the entire apartment, you immediately noticing the covered pot on the stove and a small angel’s food cake right beside it on the counter as you walked in. “Oh,” you squealed, hastily putting your work bag away and removing your shoes, “it smells amazing!”

You turned the corner to the living room, fully expecting Euijoo to be relaxing on the couch and setting up Netflix, but he wasn't there. You pursed your lips quizzically, figuring he was probably either in the bathroom or bedroom. You made your way down the hall, quickly observing the bathroom door was wide open and the lights were off, so that easily answered your question. 

“Fuck!” You heard Euijoo yelp as you approached the bedroom door. 

You jumped, startled, throwing it open because you thought he may have been hurt. “Baby, are you okay-” Your breath hitched in your throat at the scene before you.

Euijoo was sprawled out on the bed, naked and shaking as his hand pumped vigorously around his length- red, hard, and dripping with precum. His focus was on the mirror, eyes flickering up to you in the reflection as you stepped into the room. 

He smirked. Bullseye. 

He exaggerated his expression to edge you on further, the game he was secretly playing unbeknownst to you. Heat began to pool between your thighs, stomach tying into knots as you just stared at him, broken moans dripping from his lips. You could see the sweat beading at his forehead, his beautiful brown strands sticking to his skin. He looked completely fucked out, your mind going haywire as you eyed his veiny hand envelope his girth. His gaze on you stayed unwavering, eyes fluttering and fighting to close as he was nearing release. You were unable to move closer to him, enjoying the show a little too much while the temptation to touch yourself from the doorway as you just watched him lingered in the back of your mind. Suddenly, Euijoo choked and let out an ear-piercing groan, back falling flat onto the mattress as his cum spilt down his hand. He tilted his head backwards just enough to burn holes into you, keeping you right where he wanted. He didn’t blink, crying as he rode out his high with his eyes peering deeply into yours. Your legs felt like jelly as you attempted to shift your body over to the bed, leaning over to kiss him.

He dodged your lips, sitting up straight. He acted like nothing had happened, going from one hundred to zero in less than a second. You just stood there, astonished and wet as fuck while he cleaned himself off, then stood up from the bed. He threw on his sweatshirt and pajama pants before approaching you, offering an innocent smile as he kissed the top of your head. “Hey,” he greeted, “ready to eat? I made bolognese.”

You wanted to be mad, truly, but you ended up just being extremely sexual frustrated and impressed by whatever the fuck kind of act that was. “U-um,” you cleared your throat, “sure.”

Euijoo turned towards the door to exit the bedroom and make his way into the kitchen, hiding his sly expression from you as his first round was a success. 

Euijoo was standing on the balcony chugging a water bottle, sweat towel draped around his neck, and lightly swaying his body side to side. You were sitting on the couch, writing in your journal as you glanced at him through your peripheral. He never failed to look sexy when he was working out, breath heaving and muscles flexed- you wished you were the one making him do that and not the cardio. 

He caught you looking, sending a playful wink that caused a layer of red to rise to your cheeks. You cleared your throat, turning your attention back to writing. Not too much later, you heard the balcony door slide open, Euijoo stepping inside and letting out a huff. You tried not to cave and look at him again, knowing damn well he was much closer to you now and it would only make the curves of his body easier to make out- which in turn would add to your already rapidly increasing horniness. 

“What are you up to?” He said, now kneeling beside you lying on the couch. 

You could still smell his cologne, it not having faded during his workout session, and you tried to act normal. “Just journaling,” you swallowed, “I’ve had a lot on my mind today.”

“Care to share with the class?”

You placed your forearms over the pages, hoping he hadn’t actually read any of the words and if he had, at least obstructing him from obtaining further information. He didn’t need to know how turned on you’d been all day and that every little thing he did just made it a million times worse. Ovulation really was fucking hell. Besides, you were planning to ask him to have sex later after he showered. You’d spill all of your juicy, written needs to him then. “No thanks,” you stuck out your tongue.

He chuckled, kissing your cheek before rising to his feet. “I’m going to take a shower.” He announced.

You nodded, watching his backside as he walked away. He really was so beautiful, every part of him was perfectly proportioned and formed flawlessly. You groaned when he was far enough away to, hopefully, not be able to hear you, throwing your head back in defeat. “Fuck,” you exhaled, slamming your journal shut, “I need his dick in me, this is agony!”

You had no idea that Euijoo was leaning against the wall just around the corner listening to you, and he had indeed read enough from your journal to know that you had been dripping all day, cunt aching and needy for him to fill you up. To your dismay, though, he would not be helping you out with that tonight- round two had commenced.

You heard the shower turn on, Frank Ocean’s voice coming muffled through the bathroom door. You sighed, just staring at the ceiling for god knows how long until you decided to get up and go to the bedroom. On your way over, you caught sight of a washcloth on the floor in the middle of the hallway. Euijoo must have dropped it without noticing on his way into the bathroom. You quickly put your journal away before going to pick it up and take it to him. “Juju?” you called out, knocking on the door. He didn’t respond, so you turned the knob to open the door yourself; neither of you had any problem with each other doing that, you were dating after all. “Juju,” you repeated, pushing open the door, “you dropped your-”

The washcloth fell from your hand and you inhaled sharply, nearly passing out as you saw Euijoo, once again, getting himself off. You were this fucking close to losing it. He wasn’t even in the shower yet. His head was thrown back against the wall in front of the sink, eyes hooded and glossy as he watched himself in the mirror, biting his lip and whimpering. He turned and looked at you, moaning louder when his eyes met yours. “Y/n,” he whined your name, mewling, voice growing louder as you looked down at his hands wrapped around his cock. You nearly fell over. He twitched, legs jerking forward as his hot seed spilt all over his hand and down the sides of his wrist. Your cheeks were burning, panties soaked, and before you even had a chance to think, you were dropping to your knees to clean him up.

Euijoo grabbed your chin harshly before you could touch him. “What are you doing?” He gritted his teeth, digging his thumb and pointer into your cheeks.

You loved it when he got all mean. “I-I wanted to help you out.” You whimpered, nearly coming in your pants from his grip and tone of voice alone. “Please let me, Juju.”

He tsked, releasing your chin and stepping away to leave you helpless on the cold, bathroom tile. You were dumbfounded. “I still need to shower, baby.”

“Euijoo,” you whined, reaching for him and just managing to grab his wrist, “I need you so badly, please,” you were nearly in tears now. He felt a bit guilty leaving you so needy and frustrated, but the thrill of the game was far too enjoyable for him to cave just yet.

“Not tonight, love,” he cooed, leaning over to press his lips gently against yours before he hopped into the shower. Fucking menace.

While he was showering, you tried to take care of it yourself, but nothing was working- you needed him, and only him- nothing else was going to cut it. You tried him a couple of times when he had finished showering and returned to the bedroom, asking if you two could go slow or at least have him eat you out, but he just continued to turn you down. You gave up, frustrated, finding it nearly impossible to sleep that night.

Round two: cleared. 

It had been ten days, and you were pissed. Euijoo pretended like he didn’t notice, but he absolutely did, and that’s exactly how he wanted you to be. He wanted you to be so angry you were begging and willing to let him do anything for even a taste of relief. If his third ploy worked out the way he was hoping for, he’d have you sitting in his lap with tears streaming down your cheeks and thighs as he worked on your body relentlessly. Just the thought of having you come apart for him, so dirty and raw, sent shivers down his spine. His game was nearing conclusion- just one more round to go. 

You were growing tired of the teasing, every little action of his hiding something far darker beneath it. Euijoo knew you were starting to catch on to his antics, but not quite enough to get revenge on him just yet. There’s no way you could, anyway, once he had his hands on you and you were at his mercy. He knew you’d eventually give in, letting him take you however he wanted without resistance- that’s how it always ended up. 

You rolled your eyes at him as he leaned over the kitchen counter, smirking and watching you finish preparing dinner. You wanted to slap the smugness right off his face, but unfortunately for you, you were once again allowing him to rile you up. You silently cursed at yourself, annoyed with how reactive your body was to him. Most of the time it worked in your favour, but for whatever reason you couldn’t figure out, Euijoo was just being an asshole to an extent he had never been before recently. 

“You know what?” You suddenly snapped, covering the pan and turning off the stove. You turned around and crossed your arms as you glared at him. “Did I do something? Because I’m seriously lost as to why you’re-” Euijoo lifted his brow, waiting for you to finish, and you nearly fumbled, “you’re fucking with me so much lately.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

At that point you were raging, fiery passion creating knots in your stomach as you stared at him utterly stunned. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

He leaned up from the counter, his sly expression unwavering, slowly moving his body in front of yours. You tensed up, attempting to put space between you, but unfortunately the cabinet kept you from being able to do so. “What are you-”

He placed his hands on your hips, jerking you forward aggressively while his mouth lowered to hover over your ear. He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he fought every urge in his body to spread your legs apart in that moment so he wouldn’t end the game too soon. He wanted to finish what he’d started, clean and fully fulfilled. “I think you’re too needy, baby,” he cooed, breath falling down the side of your neck. You were done for. “What’s wrong? Are your own hands not enough anymore?”

You gripped his shirt, gritting your teeth as you pushed him away from you just enough to look at him. Your heart was thumping against your ribcage, the animalistic instinct in you ready to break through at any moment. “Just what are you playing at?”

He had you trapped under his spell. “Nothing,” he smiled, releasing you and removing your hand from his shirt. He pinched your cheeks and stepped away towards the bedroom. “I’m going to go change out of my work clothes before we eat.”

You were fucking done.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to compose yourself before you went into the bedroom to give him a piece of your mind. Your body was aching and you couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

“Euijoo,” you threw open the bedroom door, revealing his naked body standing in front of the mirror. His eyes darkened when he saw you, hand teasingly slipping from his chest down to his hips. You groaned irritably, stomping over to him and grabbing his wrist before he could touch himself any further. “I’m fucking over it, whatever you’re trying to do me.” You exhaled, eyes glazing over with pure desire. “You win.”

Game complete.

Euijoo wore a shit-eating grin, using his free hand to grab your wrist and pry you off of him. He grabbed your other wrist, forcing them both behind your back. Your breath hitched in your throat, legs losing strength as he held you tightly together with one hand, reaching over with the other to open the top drawer of the dresser. He pulled out one of his dress ties, wrapping his arms around your back to secure it around your wrists. You were putty in his hands now, cunt basically dripping through your shorts and onto the carpet at this point. He tilted your chin up, humming as he searched your eyes to read your reaction; he wanted to know exactly what you were thinking. “I can’t believe you still haven’t figured out how you ended up in this position.”

“W-what do you mean?” You asked, voice weak as you didn’t dare remove your eyes from his.

He laughed, squeezing your jaw until you whimpered. “What were you doing after work on the twelfth?"

“The twelfth? That was over a week ago, I don’t-” you paused for a moment, attempting to recollect your memories of what you were doing that evening, “I was mostly just watching tv while I waited for you to get home.”

“Mostly?” He questioned. You gulped. You realized right then that everything leading up to this moment was undoubtedly triggered by you getting yourself off that night. “Care to elaborate?” Euijoo had planned everything, and you were wrapped around his fingers just like he knew you would be. You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. “No?” He laughed, dark and heavy, his grip on your face unmoving. You breathed heavily. “Well, I can tell you exactly what you were doing that night.” He whipped you around so you were now facing the mirror with your back pressed against his bare chest. “You see,” he dropped his hand from your chin to your neck, the other tracing along every inch of your exposed skin. You swore quietly at yourself for opting to wear a pair of tiny lounge shorts and a tank top. “I heard something interesting when I got home from the office, and you know what it was?” You were shaking, fingernails digging into your palms. “It was the most beautiful angel I had ever seen, watching herself come in this very mirror.” He pointed at your reflection, then lowered his lips to your shoulder to leave a trail of kisses. “I thought, wow, I should really be the one doing that,” bite, “and I couldn’t help myself, I just had to tease her until all she had left in her was to fucking beg for release.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you exhaled, voice barely above a whisper.

He laughed, swiping his tongue across the hickeys he left and you moaned. “No,” he disagreed, “you’re just a very naughty girl.” He slipped a hand down your shorts and into your panties, the other up your shirt to cup your breasts. Your body jolted at the stimulation, hands involuntarily pawing behind your back at his cock. He lurched your body forward to create space in order to keep you from touching him. “No,” he growled, “you’re not allowed to fucking touch me tonight.” You whimpered, lips quivering as you felt your cunt aching beneath his fingertips. He pressed into your clit, hard, and you yelped. “Since you decided to fuck yourself without me, I’m going to do whatever I want to you.”

“B-but,” you stuttered, “you also did the same-”

He pushed his hand further up your shirt and out of the collar, shoving his palm over your mouth. “I suggest you shut this pretty little mouth of yours.”

You gave in, allowing your body to fully succumb to whatever way he chose to use you for his gratification. You accepted were just a fucktoy now, pussy drooling in anticipation for whatever he had planned. Quickly, Euijoo removed your shorts, then ripped your tank top off of you. You moaned, head falling back onto his shoulder as he sat down on the edge of the bed and yanked you onto his lap with him, immediately toying with your soaked folds once more. He forced your thighs apart, your cunt now fully displayed to both of you in the mirror. You heard him sharply inhale beside your ear as he removed his hand from your pussy for a moment, then brought it back down against it with a slap. You cried, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes from the pain and pleasure. He laughed wickedly, plunging two fingers into your hole without warning. He started with a relentless pace, punishing your cunt for the audacity to come without his touch. He shoved his hand over your mouth once more.

“Euij-” you choked through the gaps of his shifting fingers against your mouth, “it’s t-too much!”

He bit down on your neck, hard, “and you’re going to sit here and fucking take it like a good girl.”

You were shaking, fucked out and losing your mind as he continued to assult your cunt, humming every time he felt you inch closer and closer to climax. “F-fuck!”

He removed his hand from your mouth and slapped your clit again before creating circles, fingers pumping in and out of you fast while broken, raspy and ungodly sobs fell from your lips. Your cheeks were stained with tears, and you loved it. Your eyes started to close, head becoming loose, and Euijoo was not having it.

He paused on your clit for a moment to grip your hair, aggressively forcing your head back up. He tsked. “Eyes open, baby,” the lust in his voice caused your eyelids to snap open again, “you’re going to watch yourself while I break you.” With that, he circled your clit using an inexplicable speed, fingers curling inside of you once more to finally push you over the edge. You whined, body convulsing in his lap as you tried your best to keep your eyes open and locked on your reflection, observing yourself falling apart all over your boyfriend’s hands and thighs. You were completely wrecked. He growled at the feeling of your juices running down the sides of arms from the palms to the elbows, grinning widely at how much he made you come. “That’s it,” he cooed, riding out your high, “You’re so fucking perfect when you do what I say.”

He didn’t give you a chance to rest, lifting your ass up from his lap and placing you on his cock before you had even come down from your orgasm. You screamed, cunt overstimulated and arousal dripping down your thighs as he pistoned into you unforgiving, hitting your cervix with each thrust as he deeply buried himself in your walls. He gripped your tied wrists, using them to keep you steady on him. He brought one hand down to grab your ass, pounding into your throbbing walls. You could feel him twitching inside of you, the filthy sounds of your soaked cunt squelching around his cock, skin slapping roughly against each other. 

“S-shit- I’m fu- mph- I can’t-” you cried, your body exhausted and ecstatic as his cock filled you up.

“You can take it, baby,” he assured, a deep guttural groan escaping his lips. He was starting to lose his composure. “Do you hear yourself?” He moaned, taking pleasure in the way your wet cunt sang sweet melodies to his aching cock. “You’re so fucking wet, I’m- shit- trying not to come yet.” But he could barely hold on at this point, unsure how he hadn’t burst yet. You felt so fucking perfect around him, warm and homely, and he didn’t want to leave. He lifted you up and shifted your bodies further onto the bed, placing you face down and ass up without pulling out. He gripped your hips, tongue running up your spine while he sloppily thrusted into you, legs beginning to sputter and let go. He grabbed your hair- gently this time- and lifted your head so you could watch him fuck you from behind in the mirror. Your mascara was a mess, smeared all over your cheeks and the sheets, Euijoo’s eyes glazing over as he watched your mouth fall open and scream his name repeatedly as his cock hit every sweet spot in your needy cunt.

“Juju,” you cried, desperate to fist the sheets even though you couldn't with your hands being tied, “fuck, fuck- I’m gonna- oh my god!”

“Come for me, baby,” he grunted, throwing his head back in elation, “Gonna fill this pussy up so fucking good.”

“P-please,” your voice broke, eyes rolling backwards and stomach falling onto the mattress as you came on his cock, feeling his own release fill up every inch of your walls a moment later.

He was mewling, continuing to thrust into you hastily to make sure his cum filled you completely and stayed inside of you. As he started to slow and come back down, he wrapped his arms around your waist and slowly flipped your bodies so you were now cuddled and laying on your sides comfortably. He pulled out of you gently, groaning at the sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt, swollen and filled so perfectly. He slowly pressed healing kisses along your body, laying two on your cunt before he moved up to kiss your face. “You were amazing,” he praised, brushing your hair behind your ears so he could see your tired eyes. “My perfect girl.” He stood up to grab a warm towel from the bathroom to clean you up, returning quickly. 

The minute you walked it, time stopped.

Nicholas noticed you immediately. Silver dress, a heart-shaped locket that sat just above the sternum, slightly dirty sneakers; everyone else around him faded into black as he watched you– only you– your fingers fidgeting at your sides while you bit your lip and darted your eyes around the exhibit. 

He was half paying attention when observers came up to him to ask questions about his pieces, a memorized script spilling from his lips without error as his eyes continued to follow you from painting to painting. 

“If you’d excuse me,” he cleared his throat, bowing politely to the guests before taking his leave. 

He stepped closer to you. Two steps. 

Just a few more.

Even from the back, you were perfect. Flawless. You had potential, an amount that felt overwhelming inside of Nicholas’ chest. He needed you to be his muse– there was no other option.

“This is one of my favourites,” he said, gently, to grab your attention without startling you. He was standing beside you now. 

You turned your head and looked up at him briefly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Is it?” You asked, scanning him quickly from head to toe. You returned your attention to the painting. “It feels very…” You pondered for a moment, trying to find the right words to say, "lonely and sad."

He glanced sideways at you, body turning slightly away from the piece to face you a little bit. “Would you believe me if I told you I painted this at one of the happiest times in my life?”

You chuckled. “I would,” your eyes met his for a moment, “and I’d also say the cliche line of art is open for interpretation.” 

Nicholas smiled. “If it feels lonely and sad to you, then it is.”

You both stood there for a few moments. Still. Quiet. The chatter from the other guests faded effortlessly into the background as you took turns sneaking glances back and forth between the painting and each other. Something about him was very alluring. He was mysterious, which is what instantly drew you to visit his exhibition in the first place when you saw it advertised by the local arts organization earlier in the week.

La Petite Mort. A Little Death.

That was the name of his exhibition, a euphemism for an orgasm in French. Nothing about his art seemed erotic, though, at least on the surface. Perhaps there was some underlying message the average onlooker would fail to notice, while more seasoned art lovers would pick up on its subtlety. You considered yourself the latter, yet had a bit of trouble finding the connection to the theme the title would infer. 

“Why did you choose La Petite Mort as the name for your show?” You asked, now completely facing him. 

He was taller than you realized, eyes like a fox peering down through slightly hooded lids. His lips were a perfect shade of red as if they were permanently stained by the world's finest wine. His frame was curved just enough, your heart quickening the more you observed him. Your eyes landed and lingered on his waist.

He smirked. You didn’t notice.

“Hmmm,” he thought, lips pursed as he rested his chin into his hand, tapping it with his fingertips, “Painting for me feels like that.”

“How poetic of you,” you joked, but feeling very moved by his honesty. He chuckled at your teasing. “Would you say it’s better than sex?”

“Not exactly,” he shook his head, “but the feeling when I’m painting, when I finish something I’m proud of, feels like a very similar and blissful rush to an orgasm.” 

“That sounds amazing,” you gushed, wondering if you would one day find something that made you feel that way, too.

In truth, life was a drag for you. Everything felt dull and grey, colour seemingly evaporating as each day passed. The same old shit, just a different day. It’s no wonder you felt loneliness and sadness speaking to you through Nicholas’ paintings; you were projecting your emotions onto them.

“Do you have something like that in your life?” Nicholas asked, pulling you out of your depressing thoughts and back to the original question. 

You shook your head. “No, but I hope one day I discover it.”

“Would you like to explore that with me?”

Your eyes went wide, taken aback by his words. You weren’t sure what he was implying. “How so?”

“I want to paint you,” he answered. “You’re so fucking beautiful, I feel this pounding in my chest and ache of passion whenever I look at you.” He was slightly breathless, the words flowing out of him quickly. “Ever since the first moment I saw you tonight, I knew you were the one.”

You were utterly shocked. He was complimenting you in the most decorative way, your heart now beating against your rib cage exactly in the same way he described his own. “I–I don’t even know what to say,” you exhaled, feeling overwhelmed and extremely attracted to him.

“You can think it over,” he smiled politely, hands digging into his pockets. “My number is on here.” He handed you a business card.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you took the cardstock from his hand and pulled your gaze away from him. You were nervous now, the tightness in your chest growing exponentially the more you stood there next to him, just inches away from your arms touching. In that moment, you realized you should probably go before you ended up doing something stupid, like asking him to sleep with you to fill the void within yourself. There was no doubt in your mind that you wanted to get to know Nicholas beyond the surface of his artwork. From the short exchange of words you two shared, his mind was creating knots in your stomach; he was deep, focused, real. Perhaps allowing him to use you for his art would be a good opportunity to dive deeper into who he was. 

“I will,” you replied, beginning to walk towards the exit. “It was nice meeting you, Nicholas.”

“Nico is fine,” he said, “Have a good night…” He didn’t know your name.

“Y/n,” you smiled, hand pushing open the door to leave.

“Y/n,” he repeated as he saw you off with a nod.

It took you a few weeks to build up the courage to reach out to Nicholas. Besides the fact you kept psyching yourself out of doing it, work was kicking your ass. Deadlines upon deadlines– it felt never ending, and the paper stacks only kept growing bigger and bigger. 

When you decided to major in Psychology, you had a very different expectation of what you’d be doing at an actual job. It wasn’t fun anymore, but you kept trying because you had rent to pay, and you wanted to at least attempt to find joy in it again, the same joy that got you interested in it in the first place.

You were deeply intrigued by the human psyche– ever since you were a kid– the first signs being when you’d play with your stuffed animals, you’d make them act out conversations that seemed far too intelligent for a six-year-old to be having. 

In some ways, you regretted choosing it as a career. Now, it felt more like a chore, lacking the once sparkling ambition and enjoyment you used to feel during your college days. 

You sighed, leaning back into the desk chair as your phone buzzed. To your surprise, Nicholas responded back much quicker than expected. You thought with him being an artist that he’d be stuck in the flow state and not respond until days later. It was nice to be proven otherwise.

Nico: i thought you’d never reach out 

You: well, here i am! sorry i took so long – been so busy omg 

Of course, you weren’t going to tell him it was also because you were nervous about contacting him.

Nico: i hear that – do you happen to have some free time this weekend? saturday evening?

You: i do – what’s up?

He sent you an address.

Nico: come here at 7 pm

You raised your brow as you read the text, feeling somewhat suspicious. The location showed an empty warehouse on the map. Well, I’ll just bring a pocket knife and extra pepper spray, you thought, making sure you were prepared if he turned out to be insane. 

You: sounds good, i’ll see you then 

Nico: awesome! talk more later, the paints are calling

You chuckled. 

You were thankful the street lights illuminated the warehouse just enough, and it seemed to be located in a busy part of the city. You took a deep breath, nerves easing up just a tad as you fished into your pockets for your phone. You dialed Nicholas’ number.

“H–Hello?” He answered, voice nearly muffled. You heard an array of sounds, his phone clearly unstable in between what you assumed to be his ear and shoulder. 

“Hey, Nico,” you greeted, “I’m out front.”

“Oh!” There was a sudden clamor, one that you could make out just slightly outside of the building itself. 

Your eyes flickered up towards the entrance, the overhead door rising up only a few seconds later. You ended the call once Nicholas came into view. Somehow, even while wearing baggy clothes and being covered in paint from head to toe, he still managed to look absolutely breathtaking. 

“Hi,” you smiled, carefully stepping into the warehouse.

He seemed astonished you actually showed up. “You came.”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

Nicholas bit his lip bashfully before closing the door behind you. “I–I thought you’d stand me up, if I’m being honest.”

You laughed, patting his shoulder assuringly as you stepped further into the space. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I keep my word.”

He grinned, widely, in a way that gave you the impression he was deeply grateful that you followed through with your agreement– a look that, perhaps, had never had a chance to show up before. “No one has ever actually come through for me.”

“Well,” you paused, rethinking if you should say what were you about to, “you are pretty straightforward and honest. Not a lot of people are used to that.”

He nodded, letting out a small laugh. “I can agree with that.” He placed his hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you further into the space. “I hate beating around the bush, I just say what I mean,” you eyed a few seating options while he continued, “you can sit anywhere you’d like.” You nodded, eyes settling on the living room. “Do you want something to drink? Eat?” He offered.

“Just water is fine.” You smiled while he entered the kitchen. The warehouse was beautiful and very spacious. The industrial decor and open loft design felt very Nicholas to you, even from your very limited impression of him. You took notice of the bedroom area, eyes glancing between that and the kitchen. When he first sent you the address, you assumed it may have been a simple art studio space he rented– but this seemed like his actual home. “Do you live here?” You asked, eventually deciding to take a seat on the grey L-shaped couch in the living room. 

He returned to your side, carefully placing the water onto the end table beside you so it wouldn’t spill. “Only when I’m riding an inspiration high.” He sat down on the corner of the couch, just a few inches away from you. “I actually have a few roommates elsewhere, but they’re so used to me only living there part-time at this point.” He laughed at his reality, elbows resting on his knees, chin in hands, while he observed you sipping your water. You felt self-conscious the longer his eyes lingered, nearly choking on the liquid before placing it back down. Nicholas' face dropped into an expression of concern for a moment, his body automatically moving closer to your side. “Shit, you okay?”

Him sitting so close that he might as well be on your lap didn’t help you calm down one bit. “I–I’m fine,” you cleared your throat.

He let out a sigh of relief, throwing his head back against the couch. The heat kindling between your bodies was growing apparent, his shoulder nearly touching yours. He turned his head, peering down at you. A lazily smile tugged at his lips, and your heart nearly stopped. God, why did he have to be so fucking beautiful?

You didn’t realize how intensely you had been looking at him. “You know,” he started, “maybe you should be the one painting me instead with how hard you're staring.” He teased. You darted your eyes away from him immediately, cheeks redder than the crimson acrylic that stained his sleeves as you attempted to calm down. You could hear him laughing beside you, having riled you up from his words. “I think I want to paint you just like this.”

You furrowed your brows, opting to glance at him through your peripheral this time, rather than fully turn to him, to save your heart. “Like what?”

“Nervous. Shy and blushing. Body trembling.” You were finding it harder to breathe the more he spoke. “How you are right now is so,” he paused for a moment. Your short breaths were the only thing audible between you and him. “So captivating and impassioned.” Your mind was going hazy. “Does being close to me make you feel the way painting makes me feel?”

You choked on nothing, lips quivering as heat pooled between your thighs. Jesus, if you didn’t know he was a painter, you’d assume he was a poet with the way he handled words. Every single one he breathed was sent straight to your core. Fuck, maybe agreeing to meet with him was a bad idea. 

“I–” you were at a loss for words. You were not about to admit to him how turned on and needy you were for him right now. 

He broke into a wide grin, tapping your knee before he stood up from the couch, the touch feeling electric on your skin. You watched him as he walked over to his painting corner, pulling out a stool and setting up his supplies. A few minutes later, he motioned you to come closer, and before you could even make the decision, your body was moving towards him. 

“Have a seat here for me,” he instructed gently, tapping on the top of the stool. You were worried he’d see a mark on it later from how soaked your cunt was. “I already prepped the background for this piece, so you won’t have to sit here quite as long as usual.” You nodded, silently gulping as you sat down on the stool like he asked of you. Your hands fiddled in your lap, eyes unsure of where to look while your legs kicked slightly below you. “Try to be still,” he suggested, low, his honey-like rasp entering your ears and promptly infiltrating your brain. You inhaled sharply, doing your best to stay unmoving. His eyes burning into you only made it worse. You weren’t looking at him, so his smirks of knowingness went unnoticed by you. As an artist, he possessed an uncanny ability to read emotions.

You felt like you had been sitting there for hours. “How much longer?” You asked softly.

“Do you need a break?”

You shook your head. “No, I just–” you sighed, having no idea how to finish your statement without admitting how you were feeling right now. The warehouse felt like it was on fire.

He paused the strokes of his paintbrush, looked up from the canvas, then honed his eyes in on you. You felt your stomach burn. “I’m almost done,” he reassured you, “I’m just missing one small thing.” You were afraid to look at him, knowing damn well he had now stepped away from the canvas and was standing in front of you. He kneeled down so his face was level with yours, his fingers delicately touching your chin and turning it to face him. You shivered, eyes involuntarily meeting his. 

You were fucked. 

“I can feel you shaking, y/n,” he discerned, lips parting as he continued searching your irises. His thumb brushed against your cheek. “May I give you a little death?”

You swore you stopped breathing, eyes suddenly glazed over as he just smiled at you. In that moment, you didn’t care if he was only using you for his art– you needed him.

“T–Touch me, Nico,” you breathed, hand reaching up to grab his bicep and pull him closer. 

His hands trailed up your thighs, reaching dangerously close to your core. He could sense how turned on you were, your heated skin being the messenger. Carefully, he pulled your body forward just a tad so you were nearly sitting on the edge of the stool. He parted your legs, hiking up the hem of your skirt. You silently thanked yourself for opting to wear a dress that night.  

He gasped when he saw your panties, the arousal staining and dripping through them. “Fuck,” he hissed, fingertips grazing just over the top of the lace, “all of this for me?”

You let out a light moan as he continued to play with the material, hands gripping the sides of the stool in an attempt to keep yourself still. “Please,” you whimpered, “I need to feel your tongue.”

Nicholas smirked, head dropping to your needy cunt as he wrapped his fingers around the straps of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles and off of your body. He spread your folds apart with his fingers, your arousal glistening and appetizing. He licked his lips before burying his mouth into you, slick covering his nose and chin as he messily flicked his tongue all over your folds and clit. Your chest heaved up and down intensely, one of your hands finding its way into his hair. The stool was shifting from its spot, Nicholas offering one of his hands to assist you in keeping it steady. The warehouse was filled with the filthy sounds of his mouth against your wet pussy and your cries of pleasure, each one echoing off the walls with perfect acoustics. Nicholas’ eyes were rolling as he hummed against you, vibrations being sent through your veins while he devoured you whole. He paused for a moment, pulling away to look up at you. Fuck, seeing his face covered in you made you weak. 

“Can I try something?” He asked. You raised your brow at him as he stood up, shuffled over to his tray of paintbrushes, opened a new pack, pulled out the widest one, then walked back over to you. He kneeled down so his face was level with your lower body once again. He held the brush up to you, and you understood. He wanted to use it instead of his fingers.

You’d never been asked that before, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued. You were pretty open to trying anything once. You bit your lip and nodded, parting your legs for him this time so he could continue. “Go ahead,” you whispered.

He started with the bristles, delicately grazing them along your clit, swollen and red. You inhaled sharply, the stool legs lifting off the ground briefly before returning to the floor with a light clang. He then circled the brush around your folds, your wetness coating the bristles as if he was going to use your arousal as paint later. You moaned, head falling backwards as he continued to touch you. A few moments later, you felt the handle lightly tap your entrance.

“May I?” He asked, looking to you for permission to put it inside of you. You nodded, and he carefully pushed the handle into your hole. You gasped, the feeling being more enjoyable than you expected. Nicholas was watching you, eyes glistening as he observed all of your changing facial expressions. His favourite was when he touched your sweet spot and your mouth dropped further and eyes rolled back. “Do you like it?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Y–Yeah,” you choked.

Nicholas dropped his mouth to your clit again, working on it steadily as he moved the brush in and out of you. You were this close to falling off of the stool, Nicholas doing his best to keep you in place with his mouth. But at that point, it wasn’t working, so he gave up, pausing on your for a moment to pick you up, kick the stool out of the way, and lay you flat on top of the newspapers that aligned the floor. He wasted no time going back to his thrusts and licks on you, your body now free to move however it pleased. Your legs jolted as the brush tapped your g-spot, your hands involuntarily grabbing his hair to push his mouth harder against your sensitive nub. Your moans were growing louder and louder, his sucks and light grazing of teeth on your clit sending you into overdrive. 

“Oh, fuck!” You yelled, releasing onto his mouth and the brush. Your body convulsed, the intense ecstasy washing over your entire being as you rode out your high. Through hooded lids, you watched Nicholas lean up from your core, shoving the brush handle into his mouth to lick you clean off of it. He groaned, wishing there was still more of you left on it to taste.

“That was perfect,” he expressed, running his fingers along the sides of your body before kissing your lips gently. He stood up from the floor, walking back over to the unfinished art piece. He glanced between you and the painting, the faint sounds of the bristles against the canvas helping you come down from your orgasm peacefully. You watched him admirably, your chest lifting up and down slowly. You saw him as he broke into a huge smile, one that was filled with so much pride and joy. “Fuck,” he exhaled, “I have never made a piece so,” he breathed again, “so consummate before.”

You lazily sat up on your elbows. “Am I allowed to look?”

He nodded. “Of course.” 

You pulled yourself up onto your feet and approached him. When you saw the completed painting, it felt like the world stopped. Everything around you faded except for the piece and Nicholas. You had never seen yourself portrayed in such an aesthetic and meaningful way. You threw your hands over your mouth astounded.

“Wow,” you exclaimed, “this is… I don’t even know how to describe it,” you turned to him and smiled, “it’s just fucking incredible.”

He blushed for the first time. So, you weren’t the only one who could get flustered. “I’m glad you think so.”

You felt a pang in your chest, the passion seemingly growing intenser with each moment shared between you and Nicholas. “I think,” you started, leaning closer to his face. You felt his hesitant breath graze across your lips as you placed your hands onto his hips, “I think you’re my petite mort.” His eyes went wide. “You asked me the night of your exhibition if I had anything that made me feel the way painting does for you,” you watched how his adam’s apple moved up and down in his throat, “well, I believe that thing is you.”

Within less than a second, he was grabbing your face, kissing your lips fervently and turning your bodies to push you towards the couch. Your calves hit the side, sending you backwards onto the cushions while he toppled over you. His tongue was nearly touching the back of your throat, hands exploring everywhere he could reach beneath your dress as you pulled him down against you as hard as you could possibly manage. You were entangled, messy, hips desperately meeting each other halfway as you both craved stimulation. You tugged at his blouse, undoing the buttons impatiently. The shirt slipped down his arms and onto the floor and a moment later he broke the kiss to help you remove your dress.

He leaned over, placing his teeth around your bra straps as he pulled them off your shoulders. He reached a hand under your back to unclasp it, him ripping it off of you hastily. He was salivating at the sight of your chest, nipples perked and ready for him. He started from your forehead and gradually made his way down your body, kissing you tenderly and full of passion. He landed on your nipples, taking them into his mouth and flicking his tongue around them like a starved man. You were mewling, pawing at his back as you gasped blissfully. 

“Shit,” you hissed, pushing your head back into the cushions as your nails pierced his spine, “your mouth is perfect.”

You felt him smile against you. He unbuttoned his pants and removed them without breaking contact with your chest. One of his hands came up to rest on your neck, him squeezing it gently. You groaned, body jerking upwards as your dripping core, having still been exposed from earlier, rubbed against his tip. He moaned, hand tightening around your throat in response. He removed his lips from your nipples to kiss your mouth.

He readied himself at your entrance, his cock dripping and begging for your warmth to wrap around it. “Do you want me to put on a condom?” He asked. He wanted you to be comfortable, but fuck, was he hoping you would say no. He wanted to feel all of you. Every. Fucking. Inch. 

You shook your head. He silently thanked the gods of love. “I want to feel everything,” you said, “fucking fill me up, give me all of you.”

With your permission, he slid himself into you, effortlessly bottoming you out because of how wet you were. He kept his hand firmly around your neck, his free one gripping your hip to help guide himself into you. Nicholas was losing it already, legs practically already turned to jelly as he felt you clench around his cock. He wasn’t going to allow himself to come so soon, though, locking in to his bedroom alter ego. 

His face grew dark, teeth gritting as he locked eyes with you. You felt your body shiver from his intense gaze, excited and anticipating him to ravage you.

“What do you want, baby, hm?” He cooed, slowly picking up his pace. “What does this perfect little pussy want?”

You found it hard to speak, eyes rolling back and becoming so fucked-out from the feeling of him inside of you that you have no idea how you managed to respond. “Ruin me.”

Nicholas didn’t need to be asked twice. His hips starting to thrust into you unrelenting, broken moans and rasps dripping from his lips as his tip hit your cervix. 

“Fuck!” he hissed, focusing on the way your walls enveloped his shaft. They were so warm, so perfectly made for him. “You’re going to make me obsessed with you.” He whimpered, his composure faltering just a bit. “God, you feel so fucking amazing around me.”

You were melting into the couch, body involuntary along moving with him as you felt your orgasm start to creep up. He was pounding into you so unforgiving, you knew for sure you’d have trouble walking tomorrow. “Shit, Ni– oh fuck– mph– FUCK!” You were screaming, arms clawing at his biceps as you felt your body begin to shake. “I’m fucking coming!”

Nicholas couldn’t help but whine with you as you came, the feeling of your juices dripping down his cock causing his mind to race. He was close himself, sustaining the same pace while you rode out your orgasm and began to come down. You were so sensitive, but fuck, you didn’t want him to stop.

“Oh my god,” he cried, his eyes rolling back as he felt himself about to burst, “I’m going to paint you with my fucking cum.”

With one final thrust, He released his seed into you, pulling out halfway through to decorate your gorgeous little tummy and face with some of it, too. You had no idea how he had so much semen, he must have been suppressed for a while. You giggled, licking your lips clean of the cum on your face, elated from him filling you up and adorning your skin with him.

“You’re so fucking freaky, Nico,” you teased, voice coming out much like a yawn as the ecstasy was still potent in your system. “First you fucked me with your paintbrush, then came all over me.”

The scent of frankincense met your nose immediately, the dimly lit, faintly smokey chapel feeling overwhelmingly suffocating as you stepped into the cathedral. Candles aligned the stained-glass windows, and the pews were filled up with more people than you could count. 

You didn’t know why you were here in the first place. Perhaps your parents’– although they knew you didn’t care for religion anymore– constant nagging pushed you to a limit, and you showed up just to appease them. You didn’t even live with them anymore, you were an independent adult, so why you let their words get to you was a mystery. 

The continuous kneeling, standing, and reciting had you ready for a year-long nap by the time mass had ended. You lazily dragged yourself out of the cathedral behind your parents, the two of them walking up to greet someone they recognized. 

“Father Jo, it’s good to see you,” your mom smiled, bowing to him respectfully. “I assume you’ll be taking your father’s position very soon as Bishop.” He blushed slightly at her compliment. 

“I remember when you were this tiny, little thing,” your dad chuckled, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Look at you now, all handsome and grown.” He leaned over his ear to whisper something. “Perhaps my daughter would take a liking to you.”

Somehow you managed to hear that, your eyes flickering up from where they were focused on the sidewalk below you to send a glare in his direction. “What the fuck, dad?”

Both of your parents and Jo looked at you, mouths falling agape at your choice language. Jo didn’t actually care, unlike them, but he was just caught off guard by your abrasiveness.

“Y/n!” Your mom hushed, “we’re at church!”

You rolled your eyes, saying nothing further. For a moment, you allowed your gaze to land on Jo, lingering on him longer than you expected. He was handsome, just as your dad said. His eyes met yours and you choked on thin air. 

Suddenly, your heart was racing, cheeks slightly flushed, as he just observed you shyly. He sent you a small smile, eyes attempting to dart away to anywhere else but you so he wouldn’t end up staring for too long. You never really took notice of him before, despite essentially growing up together. You vaguely remember being in the same Catholic education classes as him when you were kids. 

Jo, on the other hand, had watched you ever since your family started attending the church. He always spotted you in the crowd during mass, sneaking long glances in your direction during liturgy. The way your pretty lips moved during recitation, naturally stained pink as if they were just begging to be kissed drove him wild. He’d scream at himself in his head to stop thinking about things like that, about you, especially during the service.

As the years passed by and you stopped showing up, he was the first to notice. In fact, seemingly the only one to do so. He felt an ache in his chest, one that was, quite frankly, extremely bothersome. When he explained it to his father, he just laughed and told him it was a silly, little crush and to focus on his seminary studies. 

Seeing you all these years later, body perfectly formed and looking so fucking delicious, nearly took him out. Sure, on the outside he seemed composed, but on the inside he was burning, a fire igniting in his stomach the minute he saw you. He never thought you would be standing in front of him like this again. 

“Can we go?” You asked your parents quietly, feeling impatient as they continued to chat with various attendees that passed by. “I really need to eat something.” 

They didn’t hear you, or at least pretended they didn’t, as they continued talking with the others. 

“Oh,” Jo perked up, still standing beside your family, digging into his pocket suddenly. He pulled out a small bag of pistachios. “Here,” he offered, “you can have these if you want.”

You blinked up at him a few times, feeling a bit startled by his abrupt response. Thankfully your parents were too immersed in conversation with their friends or else they’d never let you hear the end of it; they’d be convinced he was in love with you just from the simple, friendly gesture.

They’d be right, of course, but you didn’t know that. 

“Um,” you took the bag from his hand apprehensively, “sure, thank you.”

“No problem.” Jo smiled at you.

Even the way you chewed your food was pretty in his eyes. 

You must have stood outside of the cathedral for at least fifteen minutes debating whether or not to actually go inside, cool air brushing against your cheeks while your sneakers quietly paced along the pavement. What am I even doing here? You thought, sighing to yourself.

Something inside of you was pushing you to go to confession. Perhaps it was for nostalgia, or maybe you were just hoping to run into Jo. After you saw him the other week, you couldn’t get him out of your head. He seemed to constantly show up in your dreams, and they always ended up being spicy to the point where you’d wake up with your cunt throbbing and begging for release.

Maybe the idea of ruining him– the pure church boy, priest-in-training– turned you on more than you would like to admit.

But in reality, Jo was already ruined. He had never had sex with anyone, still being a virgin, but fuck, did he give it to himself more than he should. Sometimes it would be in his apartment, completely alone, other times somewhere in the church when no one else was around. He was filthy, dirty, but hid it well. 

Most of his thoughts were about you, and even more so now that you showed back up in his life again after such a long time.

It was late, 10 PM, but the church doors were always open. You exhaled, shoving your hands into your pockets before stepping into the building, eyes peering around the near pitch black chapel. Your footsteps were almost silent as you carefully moved further into the space. You noticed a figure kneeling at the altar a few feet ahead, murmurs dripping from their tongue that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were standing.

You stepped closer.

“Our Father who art in Heaven,” it was Jo, voice low and emotive, “hallowed be thy name. Thy king–”

You hissed, your knee bumping into one of the pews unexpectedly. Silently cursing at yourself, you turned to quickly see yourself out of the chapel to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“Y/n?” Jo’s voice stopped you before you even made it three steps towards the exit, “is that you?”

You froze, sighing as, unfortunately, he had caught a glimpse of your face right before you turned around to leave. You slowly spun around to face him again. Something about the way he glowed in the candlelight made your chest want to explode. “Y–Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “it’s me.”

He stepped off the platform, inching closer to you. “What are you doing here?”

You weren’t sure how to answer that, still not knowing yourself. “I, um– I’m not sure, honestly.” You told him the truth. “I just felt like coming here, I guess.”

Jo simply nodded, his body now standing directly in front of yours. You gulped, noticing the pull to look up at him, yet feeling too nervous to do so. He was looking at you though, eyes burning into the top of your head.

“Do you want to sit for a few minutes?” He offered, hand motioning towards the pews.

You nodded, the two of you taking a seat in one of them. It was so quiet you could nearly hear your pulse, the eerie static silence being the only thing completely audible besides your own breathing.

Jo was sitting dangerously close to you, your shoulders nearly pressed together as you both just sat in silence. You folded your hands in your lap, legs shaking.

“Is something bothering you?” He asked, taking notice of your restless movements, “are you anxious?”

Your heart was nearly leaping out of your throat. What was it about Jo that felt so captivating? Being around him turned the atmosphere precarious, and it certainly didn’t help that it seemed to be just the two of you, alone, in the church. 

“U–Um,” you stuttered, keeping your gaze forward, “yeah, I am a little...”

His body turned to face you more, hand coming down to rest on your thigh. Your body jerked from the sudden contact. Holy fuck, you thought, maybe he’s not as innocent as I thought.

“You can talk to me, you know,” you allowed your eyes to meet his and he smiled sweetly, “I won’t judge.”

“Isn’t that, like, your job?” You snorted.

He laughed with you, fully aware he walked into that one. “Well, yeah, I suppose,” he shrugged, “but I’m off duty right now.”

“I thought priests were always on the clock?” You joked, half-serious.

“Technically, yes, but….” The only thing he could do at this point was to just be completely honest with you, “I am not as much of a believer as you probably think I am.”

Your eyes widened with surprise. “So, are you not Catholic anymore, then?”

He scratched the back of his head nervously. “Um, well– I kind of– yeah, not so much.”

“But you were praying earlier?”

He nodded. “I still try to do what is required of me.”

“What’s the point if your heart’s not in it?”

That question seemed to stump him, and he sighed. “I think I just want my father’s approval.”

You were fully facing him now, not even realizing how close your faces actually were to each other’s.

“Do you want my advice?” You asked, quietly.

Jo’s heart was thrashing against his ribcage. He could make out the colour of your lips and the scent of your fading shampoo. “Sure.”

“Do whatever the fuck you want,” you smiled, “life’s too short to pour energy into something you don’t actually care about.”

He huffed out a short laugh, seemingly realizing something. “It feels as though I would have wasted so much of my youth if I gave it all up now. I’ve been training since I was thirteen.”

“Eight years is a long time,” you nodded, agreeing with his predicament. “But, Jo, you’re only twenty one. You still have so much time to enjoy being young.” His lips parted, a look of affection washing over his face. “Let yourself.”

Then, something switched in him– something far darker than what he chose to show to the world– the hidden parts of his soul threatening to unravel. “Y/n,” he said your name, voice raspy and commanding. You pressed your thighs together as the sweet sound rang through your ears. “Shit,” he swore, his hand moving just slightly further up your thigh. You inhaled sharply, lips quivering. He let out a small groan when he saw the look on your face. “Promise you won’t get mad if I tell you what I’m thinking right now.”

You began to match his energy, eyelids hooding slightly as you fell into a smirk; you knew exactly where this was headed, his desire glaring obvious through the way he was touching you and how his breaths became shorter and shorter with each second that passed. You felt it too, core pulsing with need. You placed your hand on top of his on your thigh and leaned your face closer to his. “I won’t,” you replied, eyes flickering to his lips. “How about you show me instead?”

He didn’t say anything further and kissed you, tongue hungrily entering your mouth as his hand slipped dangerously close to your sex. You lifted your hands to his cheeks, holding him steady as you explored each other's mouths. You then pulled on the crucifix that hung around his neck, forcing him closer. He moaned against your lips, fingers toying with the waistband of your jeans.

“What if someone walks in?” You asked, pulling away for a moment to breath. “What if someone sees–” 

“Angel,” he cooed. You nearly lost it. “We’re the only ones here.”

With that, he had you pushed down with your back against the cushion of the pew, hands running along the sides of your torso as his lips met yours again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist to pull him down against you. He thrusted his clothed cock against your center, desperately chasing for relief from the ache. 

He lifted the hem of your shirt with his teeth, gasping when your nipples came into view.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, “such a dirty girl f’me, not even wearing a bra?” His finger wrapped around one of your nipples with a pinch. “In the church?” You hissed at the stimulation. “You wanted this to happen, didn’t you?”

“J–Jo,” you choked, eyes fluttering shut as he continued playing with your tits, “fuck, yes I wanted this, I wanted you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Jo’s mouth fell to your chest, tongue flicking and circling over your nubs as you cried and arched your back. He chuckled against you, hands strongly gripping your shoulders to keep you from moving too much. Your hands found his hair, pulling aggressively as he lightly bit your nipples. “Fuck!”

Jo detached himself from your breasts, licking one clean strip up your sternum to your neck before leaving a trail of hickeys around your throat and collarbone. He moved his hands under your back, folding you upwards to pull you onto his lap to straddle him. He pushed your hips down into his, throwing his head back blissfully as he could almost feel your arousal through the layers of clothing that separated your cores from each other.

A moment later, he stood up with you still wrapped around his hips and carried you over to the altar table. He sat you down on it before dropping his face to your cunt. Slowly and deliberately, he unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them and your panties down to your ankles and threw them somewhere onto the floor. He grabbed your hips and yanked your body closer to the edge, forcing your thighs apart to put your dripping cunt on full display for him. He leaned in, his necklace just barely grazed your clit and you hissed.

“Holy fuck,” he groaned, letting out a light chuckle at his unintentionally pun, “look at you all soaked for me, Jesus…” his eyes flickered up to your face, cock throbbing when he saw your needy eyes, then back down again. “I want to drink your cum for Eucharist.”

You gasped when his tongue met your folds, unable to hold back the volume of your moans as he licked and sucked on your clit with precision. You tried to keep yourself upright by leaning back onto your elbows, but failed instantly. Your spine hit the cool, marble of the altar, hands gripping at the sides until your knuckles turned white. You heard Jo moan below you as you began to come undone, your orgasm reaching its peak. His tongue darted into your hole to catch your sweet nectar. Your body jerked as you released into his mouth, your cum dripping down his chin as he swallowed all of you, removing his lips from you with one final slurp. He licked the rest of you off of his chin before standing up and leaning over to kiss you. You groaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue. 

He crawled onto the altar above you, moving you further towards the center of it as his hands pushed your thighs up towards your chest, then threw them over his shoulders. You whimpered as you watched him unbutton his pants, releasing his cock from his boxers as it slapped against his abdomen. His tip was red, angry, and dripping to be inside of you.

“This is crazy,” you breathed, feeling his precum smear against your clit, “you fucking me on the altar table.”

“Coming in your pretty little cunt is the sacrifice for my sins.”

The way Jo spoke to you, so dirty, raw, and sacreligious, drove you insane. A low moan erupted from your throat as he slid into you, so effortlessly and perfect. He whimpered, the feeling of your walls clenching around him nearly overwhelming for a virgin like him. 

“God, y/n,” he whined, pistoning into you faster than he meant to so soon, “this must be what heaven feels like.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders, thighs shaking as his hips sputtered against yours. His head dropped into your shoulder, sending your legs even further back and hitting your walls deeper. You screamed, his tip brushing against your sweet spot while you desperately tried to pull him down even more against your body. Drool coated your chin, eyes rolling back heavily as he pounded into you like it was his last day on earth. 

You felt him twitch inside of you, his peak rushing up on him quickly as well as your own. You slipped your hand between your sticky bodies, circling your clit violently as you began to come undone. 

“Make a mess for me, baby,” Jo grunted, thumbs digging into your hips so hard you were sure the bruises would last for weeks. “Fall apart all over my fucking cock.”

Jo never gave you the impression of being someone as filthy as he was, but you weren’t complaining. You knew for a fact you didn’t want this to be the last time fucking him like this, either.

“J– oh fuck, fuck!” You cried, hips thrusting up to meet his involuntarily as you released along his shaft, your cum dripping down the insides of your thighs and onto the altar table.

Jo was whimpering, the feeling of your cum all over his cock sending him over the edge, “Father forgive me, for I have sinned,” he choked, hips sputtering sloppily as he reached his orgasm, “and I’ll fucking do it again.”

You bit your lip, watching Jo’s face lift up to look down at you as he filled your pretty little cunt, white spurts coating every inch of your walls. His mouth fell agape and eyebrows furrowed as his body convulsed, head falling into the crook of your neck once more and burying itself into it further while he moaned your name repeatedly. 

You held him tightly, running your fingers up and down his spine while he came down, you having already relaxed shortly before him. He stayed there, heartbeats bumping against one another as the same eerie silence fell over the cathedral again.

You turned your head to the side to kiss his jaw. “Jo,” you called him gently. He let out a kitten-like sound that made you smile. “I hope you know I want to see more of you.”

His head shot up. “Are you serious?” You nodded as he broke out into a huge grin. “I really thought I was the only one who wanted more.” 

“No,” you shook your head reassuringly, “I want more of this, and your heart.”

“How long should I wait before I ask her to come over?” Nicholas asks, cheeks puffed out as he’s talking and inhaling ramen at the same time.

Maki points his chopsticks at him. “Depends. Whats the relationship between you two?”

He shrugs. “Well I think she broke up with her boyfriend last week, Haven’t texted her since. Whoops.”

Maki lets out a laugh. “Dude, she’s probably over him and you by now.”

Jo never really joined in on their conversations about dating. Mainly because there was nothing for him to ask or complain about, You and him were good. Healthy. Completely in love. What did he need advice for?

“What about you, Jo?” Nicholas asks suddenly.

Jo blinks, chewing his rice a little faster as his brain snaps back to the table. “What? What about me?” he mumbles.

“How are you and your girlfriend getting along? You never bring her around so I’m curious.”

“We’re good,” Jo says quickly, blush crawling up his neck at the mention of you.

Maki clicks his teeth, leaning forward. “Always so secretive~ Come on, tell us something.”

Jo looked up to see them staring with curiosity and excitement. Have they always been this nosy? “What do you want to know? There isn’t much to say, really..”

Nicholas waves a hand. “Don’t be shy. Where did you guys meet? What is she into?”

“What is she like in bed?” Maki asks casually.

Nicho chokes. “You’re fucked y’know that Maki? That’s our friend’s girlfriend you’re talking about.”

Maki just shrugs, unfazed. “What? Don’t act like you aren’t curious too.”

They both turn back to Jo, expecting some form of squeakish timid answer but he’s gone quiet. In his mind, he’s not at dinner, He’s home. You’re tucked into his chest, breathing softly as you sleep against him. Your arm draped around his waist tightly, your head brushing his collarbone. The weight of you, the warmth of you- he’d never seen anyone look that peaceful. So beautiful.

“She’s cute.”

“Cute?” Maki repeats, one eyebrow raised.

Nicholas, who five seconds ago was cringing at the topic suddenly leans in. “Cute like she’s the innocent type or?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of sexy, freaky, quiet-”

Jo’s head jerks up, horrified. “You guys can even make sleeping freaky?”

Both Maki and Nicholas stare at him.

“Sleeping?” Maki echoes.

Jo frowns, confused. “What? That’s what you asked.”

“No,” Maki says, dragging out the word. “we meant more like-”

“We meant sex Jo,” Nicholas intervenes bluntly. “We were asking how she is in bed.”

“…Oh,” he says quietly.

Nicholas Laughs. “You actually thought we meant sleeping?”

Jo covers his face with his hands, completely embarrassed. “That’s the first thing that came to mind..”

Maki finally stops laughing long enough to breathe. “So what- Have you guys really never done it before?”

Jos silence makes Nicholas’s eyes widen. “Wait- seriously?”

He hesitates, fingers messing with the edge of his sleeve. “No. We haven’t.”