Juju’s kitty Diary

You didn’t know if any of that was true. But what you did know was that your friends wanted weed and were too scared to go get it themselves. So they asked you. Apparently, being the quiet one made you the designated “safe” option. It wasn’t like you and Weno were strangers, anyway. You’d talked a few times now. Nothing long, quick chats during pickups, the occasional hi at a party when you passed by each other. He’d never made you feel weird or unsafe. Just… flustered. A little warm in the chest, a little unsure what to say next. He had a way of watching you that felt deliberate, even when he said nothing at all. Your friend had shoved some cash into your hand at the last minute, babbling about how “he’s chill, he’s not scary, just please go for me, I can’t” — and you’d sighed, texting him before you could overthink it. He told you to meet him behind the dorms. 6:30. You almost didn’t go. You weren’t sure why he made you nervous, he hadn’t done anything to deserve that label. But something about him felt sharp beneath all the calm. Like he could see through you if he wanted to. When you rounded the corner that evening, he was already leaning against the side of his car, phone in hand, headphones around his neck. The sun was low, painting the edges of his face gold. You caught yourself staring before you could stop. He looked up as you approached. “Didn’t expect you,” he said, not moving. You blinked, “Why?” He shrugged, “Thought one of your loud friends would be the one to show. You’re not really the type to do this.” It wasn’t teasing exactly, but the way he said it made your face warm. You cleared your throat. “They made me come.” “Mm,” he hummed. “Figured.”

He pushed off the car, pulling a ziplock from his hoodie pocket. You reached for it automatically, but he didn’t hand it over right away. “You ever tried it?” You shook your head. “No. It’s not really… my thing.” He tilted his head slightly. Not judging, just observing. “Didn’t think it was.” he chuckled softly, then he handed it to you, fingers brushing yours for half a second too long. You looked down at your hand, not at the bag, but at where your skin still tingled. “You’re good,” he said quietly, “Let me know next time.” You nodded, muttered a soft thanks, already starting to turn away, but then he said your name. You froze and glanced back. He was still standing by his car, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily spinning his keys around his finger. The way he looked at you made your stomach flip, like he wasn’t just looking at you, but through you. “You always do stuff for your friends?” His tone was casual, but the question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugged a little. “They want something, and you’re the one who shows up.” A pause. “That happen a lot?”You weren’t sure how to answer. It did happen a lot. They asked, you went. Not because you wanted to, but because it felt easier than saying no. You glanced down at the ziplock in your hand. “I guess,” you mumbled. “I don’t know.” He hummed low, like that told him everything he needed to know. You looked back up, ready to say something else—anything, maybe even defend yourself, but he beat you to it. “You’re a good girl.” The words were soft and genuine, but they landed heavy. Your breath caught. His gaze didn’t waver—steady, calm, like he hadn’t just said something that made your skin go warm all over. You didn’t know what to do with that. You didn’t even know what it meant coming from him. You just knew it made something flutter in your stomach. “Thanks,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. You turned and walked off a little too quickly, heart pounding, ears hot, his voice still echoing behind your ribs. You’re a good girl. You didn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. It wasn’t long before your friends asked again. Same excuse, same tone, a whiny “please, he already knows you” and cash pushed into your hand like you owed them something. You hesitated more this time. Not because of them, but because of him. You hadn’t stopped thinking about last time. It replayed in your head again and again. You stared at his contact in your phone for some minutes before typing out the message.

You

hey my friends wanna grab again

He replied two minutes later.

Weno

same place 7:30

When you showed up this time, he was inside his car, driver’s door open, music playing low through the speakers. He looked up as you approached and smiled, lazy and half-lidded. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Hey.”You tried not to sound nervous. You weren’t even sure why you were nervous. This wasn’t new. You’d done this before. But this time, it felt different. You felt different. He stepped out, shutting the car door behind him as he pulled the same ziplock from the pocket of his jeans. You took it wordlessly, but his fingers brushed yours again, on purpose this time. You could feel it in the way he didn’t rush, didn’t pull away immediately. “Still not trying it?” he asked, tilting his head. You shook your head. “Not yet.” He raised a brow. “Why not?” “I just… haven’t.” You tucked the bag quickly into your jacket pocket like it might deflect the attention. “You scared?” The way he asked it wasn’t mocking, just curious, like he wanted to understand you, not challenge you. You hesitated. “No,” you said finally. “Just don’t wanna.” He nodded slowly, watching you again with that unreadable expression. “Still doing things for your friends, though.” You pressed your lips together. “I guess.” “They ever do stuff for you?” You blinked. “What?” He shrugged. “Just wondering.” You didn’t answer. Mostly because you didn’t have one. He could probably tell, because he didn’t push. He just looked at you for a long second, eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up to meet your gaze as he rolled a blunt for him. “You should stop letting people use you.” The bluntness of it caught you off guard. You shifted on your feet, unsure whether to say thank you or tell him it wasn’t like that, even though maybe it was. “You don’t even like them that much, do you?” Your breath hitched. “They’re my friends.” “Mm,” he hummed. “If you say so.”

After that, it happened a few more times. The same routine: a text, a time, a quiet walk behind the dorms where he’d be waiting. Sometimes he was standing. Sometimes in the driver’s seat with the door open. Sometimes already smoking, low music humming from the speakers. And each time, it got a little easier to look him in the eye. But also harder not to look too long. Weno never talked much. He didn’t fill silence just to hear himself speak. He asked things, small things, personal in ways that didn’t feel invasive, just seen. He was trying to piece you together quietly, without making a show of it. You’d come with your friends’ money in your pocket and leave with more than you paid for. Not every time, but enough that you noticed. When you offered to give him more, he just shook his head, said “You’re good,” and he meant it, it wasn’t just about the cash anymore. You didn’t tell your friends about how often you started going. Sometimes it wasn’t even about picking up anymore. You’d hand over the cash, but he’d wave it off. “Not this time.” You started to wonder if he even gave you real amounts. If this was still a deal or just an excuse. What you did know was that somewhere along the way, something started to shift.

It was in the way your pulse picked up when his name lit up your screen. In how you started getting ready earlier than you needed to. In how you made sure your outfit and make up was cute before leaving, like that would help keep your face from giving you away when he looked at you like he always did. It was on the low. No one really knew how often you were seeing him now—certainly not your friends. To them, it was still just you doing the awkward task they were too scared for. They didn’t know that half the time you went to Weno now, it wasn’t even because of them. Sometimes they didn’t ask at all—you just found yourself texting him anyway. And he always said yes. You weren’t sure when it stopped being about weed. You weren’t sure it ever really was. Sometimes you’d sit with him for a while. In the passenger seat of his car, parked in the same quiet lot behind the dorms. He’d roll one and lean back with the window cracked, slow smoke curling out into the night while music filled the silence. He never pushed anything on you. Never asked why you stayed. But you stayed. You weren’t good at talking about yourself, and he didn’t make you. He just gave you space to exist, and maybe that was what started doing it. Maybe that’s why you kept feeling warmer every time you saw him. More sure that he saw you. And you started to open up to him. You two would hang out and talk about anything and anyone very frequently.

You were curled up in the passenger seat, legs tucked under you, jacket zipped halfway. The night was cool, and the air smelled like weed and cologne, smoke curling from the blunt between his fingers. His playlist low in the background that made it feel like time moved slower in his car. You hadn’t said much in the last ten minutes. Just sat there, letting the silence hang. But it wasn’t awkward. Weno never made things awkward. You gave him a small smile, eyes drifting out the window. The streetlights cast a warm glow across the dashboard. He tapped the ash into the tray and leaned back, one arm stretched across the back of your seat like he didn’t even think about it. “I don’t get it,” you said quietly after a moment. “You do this with all your clients?” “Do what?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly, playful but unreadable. “This.” You motioned vaguely between you. “Sit in the car, talk like this, not charge them.” He chuckled once, deep and soft in his chest. “No.” You blinked. “No?” He turned his head, looked right at you, and shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “They’re not you.” Your stomach fluttered. You tried to play it off, but your smile gave you away. He tilted his head slightly, watching you through the soft haze in the car. “You know you’re my favorite, right?” Your head snapped toward him. “What?” He smirked, exhaled a slow breath, eyes never leaving yours. “Client,” he added after a beat, but the pause was on purpose. His smirk deepened like he knew what he was doing to you. Your face went warm immediately. “Shut up,” you muttered, covering your smile with your hand. “I’m serious.” His tone was calm. “You don’t talk much, you don’t ask dumb questions, you never waste my time.” “Oh,” you said quietly. But your smile stayed. “So I’m convenient.” He leaned a little closer, voice dropping low. “Nah. You’re cute.” Your heart jumped. You didn’t know where to look. You didn’t know what to say. So you laughed—awkward and soft, trying to bury your face in your hands like that might cool your cheeks. You left a little later than usual that night.

Three days later, when your screen lit up with a text from him, you answered in less than a minute.

Weno

u free tonight?

wanna chill for a bit?

♡

You

yeah :)

same spot?

♡

Weno

pull up at 10

no rush

You tried not to read into it too much. But you still picked out a different hoodie this time, your favorite one, did a little extra on your make up, styled your hair in way you knew framed your face best. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t anything. But your hands still felt warm as you walked out to meet him. His car was already there when you arrived. You climbed into the passenger seat, familiar now with the way the door stuck a little when you pulled it. Same playlist was on, and the heat was turned up just enough to make the inside feel cozy. He glanced over as you settled in, eyes flicking down to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. “Hey,” he said, voice smooth, quiet. “Hey,” you murmured back, smiling a little.

The next hour passed easily, like it always did when you were with him. You talked about nothing and everything, classes, music, random campus drama you weren’t even involved in, movies you both halfway remembered, the last weird dream you had. He laughed more than usual tonight, low and slow, eyes squinting a little when something you said caught him off guard. His hand rested on the steering wheel as he listened, thumb tapping the leather in a lazy rhythm. He made you feel comfortable, like whatever you had to say mattered even if it didn’t. Like he was listening just because it was you talking. At some point, he lit up. You were mid-sentence when he leaned forward to spark the lighter, the soft flick of it barely cutting into the music. He offered it to you once out of habit, holding the blunt out between two fingers, and this time you didn’t shake your head immediately. You hesitated. Then, before you could overthink it, you took it. Your fingers brushed his. His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze lingered longer than before. “You sure?” he asked, voice soft, a little more serious now. You slowly nodded. “Yeah. Just—don’t laugh at me if I cough.” He smiled, “I won’t.” He leaned back into his seat. “Promise.” You inhaled, a small hit, like you’d seen him do a hundred times now. It burned, made your throat tickle, your eyes water just a little, but you didn’t cough. He watched carefully, still smiling. “Good girl,” he murmured.

Your chest tightened at the words, heat blooming under your skin before you could stop it. You handed it back to him quickly, trying to focus on the burn in your lungs, the soft thrum of bass in the background, anything except how warm you suddenly felt. Time got slower after that. An hour passed in a haze, soft laughter, lazy conversation, both of you sinking deeper into your seats, the windows fogging slightly. He smoked again, and passed it back and forth to you. Your body felt lighter. Music melted into the background, his voice a little rough now. You both stared out at the empty parking lot for a while, just existing. It was quiet in the way that felt close, not awkward. Every time your knee brushed his, he didn’t move. Every time you shifted, his eyes flicked toward your mouth, then back to the road like he didn’t want to get caught looking. And maybe it was the high, or the way the space between you had been shrinking since the start, but something changed. You turned to say something and caught him already looking at you, staring. His arm was still draped behind your seat, but now his fingers were brushing your shoulder, light and casual. You blinked at him. “What?” you whispered, voice lower than before. He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you for a long second, eyes warm, thoughtful. “C’mere.” You didn’t even think. You just leaned forward, heart thudding quietly behind your ribs as his hand slid slowly to the back of your neck. He tilted his head slightly. His lips brushed yours soft at first, testing. Then again, firmer. You leaned into it. Your heart stuttered, hands unsure of where to go. One found the edge of his hoodie. The other pressed lightly to his chest. His mouth moved against yours like he’d been thinking about this for a while. He wasn’t in any rush now that it was finally happening. You kissed him back slow, high and a little breathless, your skin buzzing all over. He pulled back eventually, just enough to look at you, eyes dark and steady.

“You’re high,” he said, almost teasing. “So are you,” you whispered. He smiled, gaze dropping to your lips again. “Yeah. But I still meant it.” You smiled, small and dazed, and tucked your legs under you again, curling back into your seat. The car was quiet for a few more minutes. Nothing changed. But everything had. And when you finally said you should go, he didn’t stop you. Just nodded, reached over, and opened the door for you like he always did. Before you stepped out, he caught your wrist gently. You turned back. His eyes searched yours for a moment. “Text me when you get in.” You nodded, “Okay.”

You

made it home :)

♡

Weno

good

was starting to think u got lost

♡

You

nope

just still thinking

♡

Weno

about?

♡

You

you

♡

Weno

yeah?

what part

♡

You

the obvious part

♡

Weno

mm

i liked that part too

didn’t rlly want u to go

♡

You

u didn’t?

♡

Weno

nah

wanted to kiss u again

♡

You

i wanted to too

but i got nervous :(

♡

Weno

it’s ok bby

will i see u again soon?

♡

You

yeah

if u want to

♡

Weno

i do

♡

You

can’t wait

goodnight weno :)

♡

Weno

me neither

gn <3

You didn’t stop thinking about that night. Or his texts. Or when he said he wanted to kiss you again. The way your heart stuttered when he called you bby like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it was already normal between you. It wasn’t, not really. But it was starting to be. You’d kept texting after that. Not every second of the day, but enough. Little check-ins, good mornings, music recs, late night questions that felt heavier than they sounded. He was never overly forward, not the type to blow up your phone or say things just to get a reaction, but everything he did say stuck with you. You were head over heels. Smiling at your phone and then burying your face in your pillow like an idiot every time. So when one of your friends mentioned the party coming up—some frat guy’s birthday, everyone was going, “you have to come, it’s gonna be huge”—you didn’t think much of it at first. Until she added, casually, “Pretty sure Weno’s gonna be there too, so you can’t get us some stuff as well?” That made your heart skip. You played it off, said “yeah, cool” and shrugged, but your brain had already started spiraling. What if you saw him? What if you didn’t? What if he ignored you in front of everyone? What if he didn’t? You told yourself you weren’t going for him. But you still stood in front of your closet longer than usual. You picked a dress—short, tight, something you hadn’t worn before. Simple, but it hugged you in all the right places. You did your makeup with more care than usual, spritzed perfume on your neck, your wrists, let your hair fall soft and full around your shoulders. You didn’t tell anyone why you looked a little extra tonight. But you kind of hoped he’d be there. And you really hoped he’d notice.

The house was already packed by the time you got there—music thumping through the walls, bodies crammed together in every corner, red cups in almost every hand. Lights low, flashing sometimes, music echoing through a speaker in the living room. It smelled like sweat, beer, weed, and cheap cologne. Typical. Your friends disappeared as soon as you walked in, squealing at someone they recognized near the kitchen. You stayed back for a second, just long enough to scan the crowd. Not because you were looking for anyone. Not on purpose, anyway. And then you saw Weno. Leaning against the far wall near the stairs, hoodie half-zipped over a white tank, cargo pants hanging low on his hips, the hem of his boxers peeking a little. He wasn’t dancing. Wasn’t talking loud or laughing or drinking like the rest of them. Just standing there, calm and unreadable, eyes lazily moving through the room like he’d been here a hundred times before. He was talking to someone, dapping them up quick, pulling something from his pocket and handing it off like it was nothing. No one looked twice. Just a quiet exchange, over in seconds. He didn’t try to be subtle, he didn’t have to. People came to him. You stayed near the edge of the crowd, drink in hand, pretending to be more focused on your friends than you were. But your eyes kept drifting back. He looked good. Effortlessly good. And he hadn’t seen you yet. You tried not to look over too often. Tried to focus on your friends and their chaotic conversations, the loud music, the colorful lights. You laughed at jokes that didn’t really register. Nodded along. Sipped water from your cup and told yourself it wasn’t that serious. He wasn’t even talking to you. He was doing his own thing. Still, your gaze kept drifting. Just to see if he was still there. Still. Every time you checked, he was. Some minutes passed like that—just you pretending to be more chill than you felt while your friends chattered and moved toward the crowd. You stayed behind, needing a second to breathe. You slipped into the kitchen, mostly empty now, except for the quiet hum of the fridge and the faint bass vibrating through the floor. You reached for the fridge handle, intent on just grabbing some cold water and hiding out for a bit, but when you turned, he was already there. Standing just inside the doorway. Watching. Your breath caught.

He didn’t say anything at first. His eyes scanned you slowly—top to bottom, unhurried. You felt it like a heatwave, settling low in your stomach. His gaze was darker than usual. Focused, sharp. You dropped your eyes immediately, trying not to fidget. Tugged lightly on the hem of your dress like it might help somehow, like maybe it covered more than it did. You felt your cheeks flush without him even having to speak. You weren’t even sure why you were so nervous. You’d seen him like this before, but something about tonight made it worse. Made you bite your lip without thinking. Made your cheeks burn just from the way he looked at you. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, voice calm and even. A little rough from the smoke, but still warm. You glanced up, heart racing. “Yeah,” you said, “Wasn’t really planning to, but… my friends dragged me.” He smiled a little. “I’m glad you came.” Your breath hitched. You weren’t expecting that. “You look good tonight.” It landed heavy in your chest. No teasing. No smirk. Just him saying it like it was a fact. Your whole body flushed. “Oh,” you said, voice small. “Um. Thanks.” He nodded once, eyes still on you, and then glanced back toward the hallway. “I’m heading up to the balcony for a bit. If you wanna get some air.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Just gave you one last look—soft, lingering—and pushed off the doorframe to leave. “Come find me,” he said, and then he was gone. Leaving you standing in the kitchen, heart racing, lip caught between your teeth, wondering how the hell he always made you feel like this without even trying.

You lingered in the kitchen for a while after he left, pretending to scroll through your phone, half-listening to the party still pulsing through the walls. Your friends had fully disappeared into the crowd by now, probably dancing or taking shots or screaming over music. You told yourself you were just cooling off. Just getting a break from the noise. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at you. The way he said it—You look good tonight. Like it wasn’t up for debate. Like he meant it, and he knew you’d heard him loud and clear. Eventually, you texted some excuse about needing air, said you’d be right back if anyone even cared that you left. You slipped out of the kitchen and made your way upstairs, heartbeat loud in your ears, feeling a little ridiculous and a lot nervous. The hallway was quiet, just some closed doors and the muffled hum of bass below. You found the door to the balcony slightly cracked open, soft breeze pushing in from the night. You pushed it open gently. There he was. He sat on a low, beat-up couch tucked against the wall. One leg stretched out, the other bent, arm thrown over the backrest like he owned the space. Head tilted back just slightly, hoodie slipping off his shoulder, lips parted around the blunt as he took a slow drag. The ember glowed red in the dark, lighting up the sharp cut of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. He looked unfairly good. Like the air belonged to him. Like nothing touched him. He turned his head lazily when he heard the door, eyes finding yours through the smoke. Didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything for a second. Just looked at you, then took another slow hit, exhaling with a quiet sigh before speaking.

“Knew you’d come.” You swallowed hard, heart kicking up again like you hadn’t already spent the last fifteen minutes trying to calm it down. His voice was low, almost lazy, but there was something behind it—something that made your chest tighten a little. You stepped out and quietly shut the door behind you. You sat down beside him, slow and careful, the cushion dipping under your weight. His knee brushed yours just slightly, warm through the fabric. You glanced over, then down again, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I just—I’d rather be up here with you than down there in all that chaos.” That got him to finally look at you. Head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed just a little like he was trying to read deeper than what you were saying out loud. He didn’t answer right away. Just flicked the ash from the blunt, leaned back again, eyes still on you. You breathed in through your nose, steadying yourself. Then softer, barely louder than the wind, you added, “I missed you.” He turned his head fully now, letting the blunt rest between his fingers. The pause that followed wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Warm. His eyes softened just a bit. “Yeah?” he said, voice a little quieter than before. “I missed you too.” It landed in your chest like a weight—like the kind of thing you weren’t sure you were allowed to want, but did anyway. He leaned in a little, not close enough to crowd you, but just enough for his knee to press softly into yours. His eyes didn’t leave your face.

“You been thinking about me?” he asked, voice still calm, but something about it made your stomach twist. You blinked. Heat rushed to your cheeks again, and you had to look away. “…Maybe.” He smiled at that, small and crooked and unfairly attractive. “Same.” And then he took another hit like he hadn’t just wrecked you with a single word. He let the silence hang for a few seconds after that, the blunt burning slow between his fingers, and then he said it quietly, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Come closer.” Your eyes flicked to his, heart stuttering a little. He didn’t look away, didn’t shift or make room, just waited. You hesitated for a second and then moved, scooting over until your leg was pressed fully against his. He reached out casually, like it was second nature, and slid his arm around your shoulders. A soft tug, and suddenly you were leaning into him, your head falling against his chest like it belonged there. You could feel everything. His warmth, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the steady thump of his heart under your cheek. His hoodie smelled like smoke and laundry and him. He brought the blunt to his lips again, took a hit, then lowered it and turned his head slightly toward you.“Want some?” he murmured. You shook your head, just once. “Not right now.” He hummed, didn’t push. Just let his hand stay where it was on your shoulder, thumb brushing idly against your arm. You didn’t say anything after that. Neither did he. You both just sat there, pressed together on the old balcony couch, the party a muffled storm below you, the stars wide and scattered above. You listened to the wind. The soft scratch of fabric when he shifted. The occasional drag and exhale as he smoked. You closed your eyes for a second and just let yourself feel all of it.

He shifted a little, moving his hand lower on your arm, caressing the skin, his breath warm against your hair. You felt his heartbeat quicken just a bit beneath your cheek. The silence between you was thick. to be noticed. You glanced up at him, your eyes catching his in the dim light. There was something softer there now. Something unspoken, but heavy. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moved to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, fingers lingering near your temple. Your breath hitched. He leaned down just a little, voice low and casual, “You’re beautiful.” You swallowed, barely able to meet his gaze as your face flushed again. Then, just like that, he closed the tiny gap between you. His lips found yours slow and gentle, before deepening the kiss, like he’d been wanting to do this all night. You melted into him, your hand slowly reaching up to rest on his chest as the world around you faded. It’s not gentle anymore, it’s urgent, needy. His hand tightens in your hair, pulling you closer as his tongue slides against yours, deep and demanding. You whimper softly, the sound lost in the press of his mouth, your body melting into his. He pulls back just enough to whisper in your ear, voice husky, “Wanna get out of here? I’ve got my car nearby.” Your heart pounds so hard you’re sure he can hear it. You just nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, breath catching again as he wraps his arm tighter around you.

He doesn’t rush you, just laces his fingers through yours, warm and firm, and gives your hand a gentle tug. You follow without thinking, legs shaky as you leave the balcony behind and slip back into the quiet hallway. The party feels distant now, like the world narrowed down to just him, the weight of his hand in yours, the aftertaste of his kiss still lingering on your lips. The walk to his car is quiet, but not awkward. When he unlocks the door and slides into the driver’s seat, you hesitate for half a second before slipping in beside him. The doors shut with a soft thud, sealing you both inside the low, warm hum of the vehicle. He leans back, legs stretched out, calm like always, but there’s a heat behind his eyes when he looks at you. A spark still flickering from earlier. “I’m gonna roll real quick,” he murmurs, pulling out his tray and grinder from the center console like it’s second nature. You nod, watching him work—his fingers nimble, methodical, the lighter’s flame briefly illuminating his face when he brings the blunt to his lips. The car fills with the earthy scent of smoke, and his head tilts back slightly as he exhales, half-lidded. He looks so fucking fine like this, bathed in shadows and smoke, hoodie loose around his collarbones, the faint red glow of the blunt lighting up his lips. Then he turns his head toward you again and you don’t even get the chance to fully catch your breath before he leans in again, free hand finding your cheek as he kisses you.

The smoke still lingers on his breath, and you melt into it, moaning softly into his mouth as his tongue slides against yours. His fingers are on your thigh, squeezing gently as he pulls you closer. The kiss turns messier, full of need, soft gasps and low groans echoing through the car. Your hand grips his hoodie low, holding on like you might fall apart if you let go. He pulls back only enough to whisper, breath ghosting over your lips, “Could do this all night.” Then his mouth is on yours again. More heat, more tongue, more breathless little noises spilling from your lips as your body starts to tremble in his hands. Without breaking the kiss, his hands move, one sliding up your thigh, the other settling on your waist. “C’mere,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice low but soft. You barely register what he means until his hands are guiding you, pulling you gently, firmly, right onto his lap. One leg at a time, knees sinking into the seat on either side of him, hands braced on his shoulders, your dress hiking up as you settle onto him, straddling him, face to face. He leans back just enough to look at you, eyes hooded, red from the weed, blunt still between his fingers. One of his hands slides up your side, fingers grazing your waist and ribs over the thin fabric of your dress. He takes his time with it, like he’s learning your shape. Your breath stutters as his hand travels higher, stopping just under your arm. He brings the blunt to his lips again, takes a long, slow hit, his chest rising beneath you, and then leans in close. His free hand curves around the back of your neck, guiding your face closer to his. You part your lips on instinct, and he exhales the smoke right into your mouth, warm and slow, curling over your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe it in, heart thudding, and then he kisses you. Kisses you like he’s taking the air right back from your lungs.

Your breath catches when you feel his hands slide down, beneath the hem of your dress. He pushes it up slowly, bunching the fabric around your waist until the cool air hits your thighs. You shift slightly, nervous, thighs tightening around his hips as he exposes more of you. He doesn’t say anything, just stares for a second, eyes flicking down to where your panties are now visible, his palms firm on the back of your thighs. “Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. Then he leans forward, mouth finding your neck, and everything gets messier after that. He kisses down the side of your throat, open, warm, wet, his lips dragging along the skin, tongue flicking against your pulse point, teeth grazing just enough to make your hips twitch against him. You whimper quietly, trying to stay still, but he’s already pulling you closer with both hands, guiding your body into his like he knows exactly what you need. You tilt your head for him without thinking, shy sounds escaping your mouth as he works his way up to your jaw, then down again, kissing a little rougher now. “Weno…” you whisper, voice breaking around his name. “Shh,” he murmurs, his voice low against your skin. “You’re okay.” Your arms wrap around his shoulders instinctively, face burning as you shift in his lap, unintentionally grinding down just slightly. His reaction is immediate, a quiet groan right into your neck, his hands tightening on your hips. “Just like that,” he breathes.

Your hips grind down harder without thinking, breath coming out in shaky gasps as the friction starts to feel almost too good. His hands slip under the back of your dress, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass, guiding your movement like he needs it just as bad. You’re whimpering into the heated space between you, clinging to his hoodie, your body trembling slightly with every slow drag of your hips over his. Your panties are soaked. His pants are straining. The windows are fogging up, and the whole car smells like weed, sweat, and heat. He tilts his head, catching your mouth again in another deep, tongue-heavy kiss, like he can’t stop tasting you. His hand slides up your waist, grazing under the curve of your chest over the thin fabric of your dress, and you shudder, moaning softly into his mouth. Then he pulls back, just a little, resting his forehead against yours as both of you try to breathe. “Fuck,” he whispers, chest rising and falling beneath you. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” You blink at him, dazed, lips swollen and barely parted, still trying to catch your breath. He looks at you for a long second, hands still on your waist, grounding you. “I don’t wanna do this in the car,” he says, voice rough. “You deserve better than that.” Your breath hitches, heat flaring even higher at how serious he sounds. “Wanna go to my place?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your side. You nod slowly, shy but needy, your fingers curling in the collar of his shirt, a little scared to let go. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Okay.” He kisses you once more, soft and sweet, before pulling back just enough to reach for the keys.

The door shut with a quiet click, sealing you into the warmth of his place. It was dark, mostly, just the glow of a streetlamp slipping through the blinds, casting faint lines across the floor. Neither of you spoke. You turned slightly, lips parting like you might say something, but he was already reaching for you. His hands found your waist in the dark, pulling you in with no hesitation, and his mouth was on yours before you could even breathe. Kissing you hungrily, deep and needy. Everything he hadn’t said tonight was pouring out of him all at once, into the way he held you, the way his lips moved over yours. His grip was firm, hands splayed over your hips, your back arching into him as you kissed him back just as desperately. He walked you backwards without breaking the kiss, slow, steady steps through the short hallway, lips never leaving yours. You barely registered the corners of the space or how you ended up where you did until the back of your knees hit something soft. And then he was lowering you onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath you, and your breath caught as he hovered above you, eyes dark and steady on yours. Then, without a word, he zipped down his hoodie and took it off. Now just in a white tank, it clung to his frame in all the right places, the cut of his collarbone visible, shoulders broad and sharp under the light. He looked down at you for a second longer, breathing hard, gaze lingering on your face like he couldn’t believe you were really there. Then he leaned down, kissing you again, less rushed, but just as intense. His hands slid up your sides, fingertips ghosting over the fabric of your dress, moving deliberately, memorizing the shape of you. You whimpered softly into his mouth, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt. He pulled back for a second, eyes flicking between yours, voice low and wrecked. “You good?” he asked, forehead brushing yours. You nodded, cheeks burning, lips swollen already. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”

He didn’t wait long after your answer. His mouth moved to your neck, warm and open, lips brushing your skin before he started kissing, slow, deliberate, dragging his tongue gently along the curve of your throat. You gasped, breath hitching as he sucked softly at a spot just below your jaw. Then again, a little lower. Your hips twitched beneath him when you felt his teeth graze you. “Weno—” you whispered, but it came out as more of a breath than a word. “You’re so pretty” he murmured, voice barely there, like he was talking to himself. “Always are.” His hand moved down slowly, slipping over your waist and along the outside of your thigh before sliding back up under the hem of your dress. His touch was patient, teasing, he didn’t rush. Just let his fingertips brush along the top of your thigh, higher and higher until they were tracing the edge of your panties. He pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side, slowly, and let his fingers slide between your folds, touching your bare heat. You gasped, head tilting back into the pillow, lips parting in a silent moan. “Shit,” he whispered, breath warm against your collarbone. “So soaked f’me, baby.” Your cheeks burned, thighs tensing slightly around his hand. He kissed the hollow of your throat, then lower, just above your chest, tongue wet and warm as his fingers began to move—slow circles at first, barely-there pressure that made you squirm beneath him. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady like he could feel how close you already were, how much you wanted him. “You’re so sensitive,” he muttered, voice deep and low, teeth grazing your skin as he kissed up to your ear.

You whimpered his name, hips grinding into his hand without meaning to. His fingers never stopped moving, dragging slick circles against your clit as he kept his mouth on your neck. Every kiss felt more urgent, but not rushed. It wasn’t just lust. It was something else. Something heavier. And then he leaned up, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think about you all the time,” he murmured, breath warm, fingers still teasing between your thighs. “Even when I’m not supposed to. Even when I try not to.” Your heart flipped, aching at how raw it sounded coming from him. “I don’t even think you know what you do to me,” he continued, a soft kiss behind your ear. “How long I’ve wanted you like this. Letting me touch you.” The words hit harder than anything else had—deeper than the kisses, deeper than his touch. Your chest tightened, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers slid into his hair, pulling him down until your lips met again. Your moans melted into his mouth, the rhythm of his fingers picking up as your hips rolled up into his hand. His other hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider for him.

And then, without warning, he shifted his hand lower, deeper. Your lips parted in a quiet gasp as he slid one finger inside you, slow and careful. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, already aching from how worked up you were, how long he’d been teasing. He didn’t wait long before easing in a second finger, stretching you just a little more. His movements were smooth, curling them up inside you just right, drawing out whiny, breathless little sounds from your throat you couldn’t hold back. You buried your face in his shoulder, hands gripping his bicep, your hips rocking involuntarily into every slow thrust of his fingers. He moved deep and steady, his palm pressing into you, thumb dragging lazy circles over your clit in rhythm. He kept moving inside you, slow and deep, curling just right. You were so close, the tension winding tighter and tighter in your stomach, breath catching with every stroke. But just as your legs began to shake, just as your hips bucked up into his hand with a quiet, desperate moan—he pulled out. You whined at the loss, hips stuttering forward instinctively, chasing the friction. “Weno…” “I know,” he murmured, breathless himself, voice thick with need. “I know, baby.” He leaned back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere to the side. The soft light coming through the cracked door hit his chest just right—shoulders broad, abs toned, skin flushed and warm. His chain shifted against his skin when he moved.

Then he was reaching for you again, hands gentle. “Can I?” he asked, fingers brushing the hem of your dress. You nodded, cheeks hot, eyes wide and dazed. “Y-Yeah” He pulled it up slowly, lifting it over your head. His eyes dropped to your body as it was revealed to him—bare chest, soft skin, rising and falling with every shaky breath. He leaned his mouth to your nipple, giving it a soft suck while sliding your panties down your legs, dragging his hands along your thighs as he did. Then he moved lower. He settled between your legs like he belonged there, hands spreading your thighs gently, thumbs brushing along the inside. You whimpered, body already arching at the sight of him down there, the feel of his breath ghosting over your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than anything, eyes locked on your soaked center. And then he leaned in. His tongue was warm, slow, one long, deliberate lick up your folds that made your back arch off the bed. Then again, this time with more pressure, more intent. His mouth locked over your clit, sucking softly before he flattened his tongue and circled it. You gasped, hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling as your thighs tried to close around his head. He just groaned into you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer, keeping you wide open for him. The sounds—wet, messy, sinful—filled the room along with your breathy moans, soft whimpers, the quiet creak of the mattress beneath you.

He didn’t stop. His tongue moved with purpose, lapping, circling, flicking. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but moan, soft and desperate, your hips twitching with every stroke of his tongue. And then you felt his hand again. Sliding up the inside of your thigh, fingers trailing through your slick folds before one dipped inside you, curling instantly. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry. He added a second immediately, stretching you and pumping into you while his mouth never left your clit. “Weno—fuck,” you whimpered, body jolting as he curled his fingers just right. Your walls clenched around him, needy and tight. His groan vibrated through you when he felt it. His tongue pressed harder, fingers pumping deep and slow—each drag of his knuckles making your toes curl. Your moans got higher, breathier, as your body trembled under his touch. “You close, baby?” he muttered against your clit, fingers never slowing. “Wanna feel you cum on my fuckin’ fingers.” You nodded, frantic, too far gone to speak. Your back arched, thighs shaking as he held you open, ruined you with his mouth, pushed his fingers deep inside you until the heat building in your stomach finally snapped. You came hard, legs trembling, hips stuttering, a loud moan spilling from your lips as everything clenched and pulsed around him. Fingers still working you gently through it while his tongue slowed, easing the intensity but never leaving you empty. Weno pressed one last kiss to your thigh, lips lingering as he pulled his fingers from you slowly, savoring the way your body jolted at the loss. He sat back on his heels, chest rising and falling a little faster now, eyes heavy as they dragged up your body.

You watched, dazed, flushed, and breathless as he reached for the waistband of his cargos, unbuttoning and sliding them down. They hit the floor with a quiet thud, leaving him in just his boxers—black, stretched tight over the obvious bulge straining against the fabric. He palmed it slowly, eyes still fixed on you, thumb pressing down over the thick outline like it ached. You squirmed beneath him, breath catching again when he leaned forward, caging you in with his arms. He kissed you slow and deep, tongue sliding over yours, moaning into your mouth. Then he reached between you and pushed his boxers down just enough to free himself, hissing softly when his length sprang free and brushed against your thigh. “You still good?” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, his thumb caressing your cheek. You nodded, voice caught in your throat. “Yeah… I want you.” That was all he needed. He reached down, guiding himself to your entrance, dragging the tip through your slick folds, teasing you both with the heat of it. His hand found your waist again, grounding you as he pushed in slowly—inch by inch, thick and hot and stretching you just right. You gasped, nails digging into his biceps, body arching as he filled you completely.“Fuck,” he breathed out against your mouth, kissing you again as he bottomed out. “So tight. So good.” He didn’t move right away. Just stayed there, buried deep, letting you adjust while he pressed soft kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your lips. His hands smoothed over your sides, grounding you. And then he started to move.

He started slow and deep, rolling thrusts that dragged every inch of him along your walls. Your body clung to him, welcoming each stroke like it had been waiting, aching, for this exact moment. His hands moved down your sides, palms warm and firm, before sliding under your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist. The new angle made you gasp, your head falling back into the pillow as he sank even deeper. “That’s it,” he whispered, voice all breath and gravel, “So fucking perfect like this.” You whimpered, lips parting with every slow rock of his hips, every soft press of his chest to yours. One of his hands slipped under your back, pulling you closer, the other traveling to cup your breast, squeezing gently, thumb circling your nipple. “Love your body,” he murmured against your skin, lips brushing your collarbone. “Every inch. All mine now, yeah?” You could only nod, breath shaky, heart pounding. He moved again—long, deep thrusts that made your thighs tremble around him, that had you clinging tighter to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself in his touch. “So fuckin’ good,” he groaned, kissing your neck, “Fuck—look at how you take me.” He slid his hand down to your ass, gripping it tightly, pulling you up into each thrust, letting you feel just how hard he was holding back. You cried out softly, tears blurring your vision as the heat coiled tighter and tighter inside you. You felt stretched, full…loved. Every part of him was on you, in you, his lips, his hands, his voice. He slowed for just a second, chest heaving as he looked down at you.

His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your lip as he whispered, “No one’s ever made me feel like this.” You blinked, another tear slipping free. He caught it with a kiss. He pushed in deep again, groaning low as your body clenched around him. Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips parted in a sob, overwhelmed. The pleasure, the emotion—it was too much, and not enough. You gasped out his name, voice broken, tears spilling freely now. “You’re doin’ so good,” he breathed, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So good for me. You feel so fuckin’ good—can’t get enough of you, baby.” He cupped your breast again, his other hand squeezing your ass as he rocked deeper, firmer, filling you completely with every thrust. The mattress creaked beneath you, skin slapping, breathy moans and whimpers. He lift your legs higher, folding them up toward your chest as his hands slid beneath your knees, guiding you open. His body shifted with yours, hovering close, his chest pressing to yours as he settled into the new position. You were utterly vulnerable, and so full. “Fuck,” he breathed as he pushed back in—deeper, impossibly deep, the new angle hitting something inside you that made your mouth fall open in a silent gasp. Your thighs trembled against his sides, your arms wrapping tight around his shoulders as he rocked into you again, slow and hard. His face was right above yours, eyes dark, mouth parted, breath hot on your cheek. His forehead pressed to yours. You pulled him down, fingers tangling in his hair, and kissed him hard, messy, open-mouthed, desperate. You sobbed into the kiss, the pleasure blurring everything, making your whole body feel like it was about to break apart in the best way.

He moaned against your mouth, thrusts picking up just slightly, deeper and deeper, hips pressing you into the mattress. One of his hands cradled your cheek as the other gripped under your thigh, holding you open for him while his body kept driving into yours, filling you perfectly. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, kissing along your jaw between gasps. “So good for me, baby… fuck.” Your body clenched tight around him, your moans turning into cries as your nails dug into his back. “Weno— I’m close, I—please,” you gasped, barely able to form the words through the sobs that kept catching in your throat. “I got you,” he panted, hips grinding down, pace relentless now. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you.” It only took another stroke. One more hit just right, and you shattered. Your second orgasm came, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your back arched, tears slipping down your cheeks as you sobbed his name, legs shaking violently around him. You clung to him like he was the only thing tethering you to earth. “Shit—baby—fuck—” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut as your body pulsed around him. “So good. So fucking good.” He barely lasted another few thrusts before he was pulling out quickly, stroking himself through the last moments, his body jerking forward with a final moan as he spilled across your stomach, thick and warm. He collapsed onto his forearms above you, forehead to yours again, breath ragged, lips ghosting yours.

He was still above you, body trembling slightly as he caught his breath, his lips brushing yours in soft, lingering kisses that felt more like confessions than touches. You were trying to breathe too, heart racing, chest rising and falling as your mind spun. Every nerve in your body was still alive, aching with how full he made you feel—physically, emotionally, all of it. And yet, even in the quiet after, something heavy sat in your chest. You swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting at his sides, your eyes darting everywhere but his face. You could feel it pressing against your tongue—those words—so big and so terrifying, but so real. Too real to keep inside. “Weno…?” you whispered, voice barely audible. He blinked down at you, soft and hazy from the afterglow. “Yeah, baby?” Your lip trembled as you looked up at him, wide-eyed and afraid. “I… I think I’m in love with you.” The second the words left your mouth, your stomach dropped. You felt exposed, like you’d stripped yourself bare in a whole new way. Your eyes filled with panic—what if he didn’t feel the same? What if this ruined everything? “I—I’m sorry,” you added quickly, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to ruin it, I just—fuck, I don’t know, I just feel so much and I couldn’t keep it in and—” He cut you off with a kiss. Not a soft one, not a careful one, but deep, sure. His hand cupped your face as he leaned into you, kissing you like he needed to feel every word you’d just said on his tongue.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed beneath your eye, catching the little tear that had escaped down your cheek. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he whispered. “You could never ruin anything.” Your heart fluttered painfully. “I’ve been in love with you,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Since before I even knew what to call it. You don’t scare me, baby. You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense.” He kissed you again, tender. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you close until your body was pressed to his, skin to skin, and you could barely breathe from how tight he held you. You buried your face in his neck, arms tucked between your chests, your heart pounding against his. The silence that followed was heavy with warmth—safe, soft. Eventually, he shifted just enough to reach for the blunt on his nightstand, lighting it with a quiet flick of his lighter. The glow lit up his face in soft orange as he took a long drag, exhaling with a sigh, head tilted back slightly. You curled into him, cheek pressed to his chest, ear catching the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His arm came around you instinctively, holding you tighter, and his hand drifted lazily into your hair, fingers combing through the strands. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. He held you like he was never letting go.

my other works ➵ masterlist

@0403s

© guliexe

"Sweetheart, I told you, this one is in his second stage. See how it's similar this one. He's just in the second stage of his evolution." Fuma said as he put the two cards next to each other. You nodded, swallowing the saliva in your mouth. You were squirming in his lap, trying to get comfortable but how could you? How could you when he has his cock completely inside you? Your walls fluttered around him every time he flexed or twitched inside you.

"Let's try again. What about this one? Basic, stage one, or stage two?" Fuma said as he placed another card in front of you. You stared at it, eyes watering as he twitched inside you again, rubbing his tip against your sweet spot. You let out a small whimper, trying desperately to move, get any sort of friction but he had a tight grip on your hip.

"S-Stage t-two?" You asked and his clicked his tongue. His hand tapped the corner of the card as he shook his head.

"No sweetheart. This was stage one. How about we work on the names of them? I'll cover them up and you tell me their names. We can start easy, who is this?"

"P-Pikachu." You answer confidently and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek and gently rolling his hips. You whimpered softly and smiled back at him.

"Good good. What about this one?" He pulled out another card and you stared at it for a minute. It was on the tip of your tongue but you just couldn't get it.

"P-Poliwhirl?" You asked shyly and he shook his head.

"I think that's enough for today baby. We went through a lot and you only got a few right. Looks like we need to do better." He set his Pokemon cards off to the side and pulled you off him. You whined while pouting but gasped as soon as he bent you over the desk. You didn't get a chance to ask anything before a loud SMACK landed on your ass.

"F-Fuma?!" You shouted, looking back at him with a confused look.

"Did you think you weren't getting punished for clearly not paying attention to what I was telling you darling? I explained everything to you so easily. And you still managed to get them wrong. Was it because you really had something else in mind?" He teased, another loud smack on your ass echoed through the room.

You let out a small whine, thighs already shaking. God you just prayed he didn't notice how wet he was making you. But unfortunately, Fuma notices everything. He cooed as his fingers traced the plump of your ass and in between to your pussy. His finger traced up your slit, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves slowly.

"God sweetheart, you're so wet. Such a naughty girl, getting wet from being spanked. Maybe we could spank this pretty cunt instead, yeah?" He taunted as he landed a little slap onto your clit. You moaned, covering your mouth instantly as your cheeks flushed red. A chuckle left his lips, not surprised by your lewdness.

"P-Please Fuma. I will pay attention next time. I'll be so good. Please just fuck me. I need to cum." You begged, wiggling your hips at him. He spanked your ass a couple more times, satisfied with the red hand prints on each of your cheeks before he squat behind you. He spread your cheeks apart, gently blowing air onto your clit. He bit his lip as your cunt twitched from the cool air before he pushed his tongue inside you.

"F-Fuma! Fuck!" You cried out, not expecting him to shove his tongue inside. He held onto your thighs, keeping your legs apart as he dove deeper. He wiggled his tongue inside you, slurping up your juices. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. You swore you were seeing stars from the way he messily ate you out.

Your walls clenched around his tongue, a sign you were close and Fuma pulled away quickly. You whined, looking back at him with tears in your eyes. Just before you could protest, Fuma shoved his cock into your pussy, bottoming out completely. His head fell back, letting out a groan as you squeezed him beautifully.

"Fuck darling. You're so goddamn tight. It's like you don't want me to pull out. Does my baby want that? Want me to cum inside this pretty little pussy? Want me to breed you, fill you so full it drips down your thighs? That what you want sweetheart?" He teased, thrusting hard into you. You were a babbling mess, nodding your head to everything he was saying.

"Yes yes! Please Fuma! I need it! Fill me til I'm full of you. Only you, just you." You begged as you gripped the edge of the desk. The sounds of skin against skin filled the room, getting louder as he fucked you. He leaned down, pressing his chest against your back and lifting your leg up onto the desk. You gasped, eyes rolling back. You didn't think he could get any deeper but god you were wrong. His cock was hitting your cervix and it was absolutely delicious.

"Fuma Fuma! G-Gonna-!" You mewled, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Shh, I know princess. Cum for me. Milk this cock and fill your greedy cunt with my cum. F-Fuck..." He groaned into your ear. Your walls clenched around him tightly, orgasming hitting you hard. You screamed his name like a prayer, shaking underneath him as you gushed. He wasn't far behind, filling you until it was spilling out.

A white ring coated the base of his cock as he fucked you both through your orgasms. The room was filled with your heavy breathing and the smell of undeniable sex in the air. Slowly, he pulled out, watching your mixed essence pool out of your swollen hole. With two fingers, he swiped a bit of your juices and brought them up to your lips.

"Taste it sweetheart. Good, isn't it?" He cooed as your lips wrapped around his fingers and sucked softly. You nodded, letting go of his fingers with a soft pop before leaning into his hand, tired and fucked out. If learning Pokemon cards was going to end like this, then maybe you should pay less attention for your next lesson.

you turned your head, cheek pressed to the cushion. “yeah?”

he didn’t look at you right away. his ears had gone a little pink.

“shibari,” he said. then, quicker, like he needed to get it out before he lost his nerve: “i’ve been looking into it. not the suspension stuff—i’m not that good yet. just… tying. the way it looks. the way it feels. i thought maybe… if you wanted… we could try it. together.”

your cunt clenched so hard around nothing it almost hurt.

yuma finally glanced over, nervous but hopeful. “i bought some rope. soft stuff. i’ve been practicing on a pillow like an idiot for two weeks. i know the basic chest harness and a box tie. i watched a bunch of tutorials on safety and circulation and shit. i even bought safety shears.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “i just… i keep thinking about how pretty you’d look. and how much i’d like to see you let go like that. completely. but only if you want it. if it’s too much, we can forget i said anything.”

you sat up slowly. your heart was beating in your throat.

“i want it,” you said, and your voice came out rougher than you expected. “i’ve been wanting… something. i don’t know how to explain it. it’s not that what we have is bad, it’s just—”

“safe,” yuma finished quietly. he nodded like he understood. “i’ve felt it too. like we’re in this really good rhythm and i don’t want to mess it up, but part of me keeps wondering what it would feel like if i pushed a little harder. if i made you really helpless for once.”

the honesty in his voice made something in your chest loosen.

you talked for almost an hour after that.

he showed you the rope—deep black, soft cotton, nothing cheap. he let you feel it between your fingers. he explained the ties he wanted to try, showed you pictures on his phone (all artistic, consensual, beautiful). he told you he’d practiced the release knots until his fingers ached. you set a safeword together—the same one you always used, just in case. you talked about what “green/yellow/red” would look like when you couldn’t use your hands. you talked about aftercare. about what you both needed if it got intense.

by the time you went to bed that night, you were so wet you had to change your underwear.

you didn’t do it right away. yuma wanted to make sure he was actually ready, not just horny and impulsive. so for the next week and a half, it became this slow, delicious secret between you.

he’d text you during the day—pictures of rope laid out on the bed, or a new tutorial he’d found, or just a simple thinking about you tied up rn. can’t focus at work.

you’d send him back increasingly desperate replies.

one night he came over after a late practice and spent an hour just tying your arms behind your back over your clothes, nothing sexual, just practicing the tension and the feel of the rope on skin. he checked your circulation every few minutes, made you wiggle your fingers, asked if anything pinched. when he finally untied you, your arms were warm and heavy and you were so turned on you almost begged him to fuck you right there on the living room floor.

he didn’t. he kissed you slow and deep and told you, “not yet. i want the first time to be right.”

the night it finally happened, the air in the apartment felt different the second you walked in.

yuma had cleaned. really cleaned. the good candles were lit—the ones that smelled like sandalwood and something sweet. the bedroom was warm, low light, sheets fresh. the rope was already laid out on the bed in neat coils, safety shears on the nightstand like a quiet promise that if it got too much—there was an immediate out.

he met you at the door with a kiss that tasted like nerves and mint.

“you sure?” he asked against your mouth, hands sliding under your jacket to rest at your waist. “we can still just watch a movie. no pressure.”

you looked up at him—your steady, careful, secretly filthy boyfriend—and felt something molten settle low in your stomach.

“i’m sure,” you said. “i want this. i want you to tie me up and fuck me until i forget how to think. and i want to feel it tomorrow.”

yuma’s smirked at your words—exhale shaky as his hands tightened.

“okay,” he whispered. “then let’s do it right.”

he took his time undressing you.

not rushed, not frantic—slow, almost worshipful. he peeled off your layers one by one, kissing each new inch of skin like he was mapping it for the first time. when you were finally bare, he stepped back and just looked at you for a long moment, eyes dark.

“on the bed,” he said quietly. “on your back first. arms up by the headboard.”

you obeyed.

the first touch of rope against your skin made you shiver.

yuma started with the chest harness.

he worked in sections, explaining softly as he went—not because you needed the tutorial, but because talking seemed to steady his hands. the rope slid over your ribs, under your breasts, around your back. he pulled it snug but not tight, checking the tension with two fingers every time. when he finished the first layer and the rope framed your tits, pushing them forward slightly, he sat back on his heels and stared.

“jesus christ,” he breathed. “you look… fuck.”

you could feel how wet you already were, thighs pressing together instinctively.

he kept going.

the box tie for your arms took longer. he wanted it perfect—secure enough that you couldn’t slip out, comfortable enough that you could stay in it for a while. he guided your arms behind your back, wrapped your forearms together, then started the intricate pattern across your upper back and chest that locked everything in place. every new pass of rope made you feel smaller, more contained, more his.

he checked in constantly.

“still green?”

“wiggle your fingers for me.”

“tell me if anything goes numb or tingles wrong.”

between sections he kissed you—your mouth, your throat, the tops of your breasts where the rope framed them. by the time he finished the final knot at the small of your back, you were trembling, cunt throbbing, so turned on it almost hurt.

yuma sat back and looked at his work.

you couldn’t move your arms at all. the chest harness made every breath feel more deliberate. your nipples were tight, sensitive from the way the rope pushed everything forward. you felt displayed. owned. perfect.

“color?” he asked, voice rough.

“green,” you managed. “so green it’s embarrassing.”

he laughed, shaky, and leaned down to kiss you again—deeper this time, one hand sliding between your legs to find you soaked.

“good kitty—fuck,” he whispered against your mouth. “you’re dripping already and i haven’t even touched you properly.”

he took his time after that too.

he ate you out while you were bound, slow and thorough, like he had all night. he used his fingers and his tongue until your thighs were shaking around his head and you were begging—actually begging—in a way you hadn’t in months. when he finally pushed inside you, it was with a low groan that sounded like he’d been holding it back for hours.

the sex was intense in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.

with your arms bound you couldn’t touch him, couldn’t pull him closer, couldn’t do anything but take what he gave you. yuma used that. he held the chest harness like a handle, pulling you onto his cock with every thrust. he fucked you deep and steady, angling his hips exactly right, one hand working your clit in tight circles until you came so hard your vision whited out and you sobbed his name.

he followed soon after, burying himself deep, filling you up with a broken moan against your throat.

for a while afterward, there was nothing but breathing and the warm, heavy press of his body against yours.

then he tried to untie you.

it started fine. he loosened the decorative wraps on your chest, kissed the marks they left behind. but when he reached the main knot at the small of your back — the one that held the entire box tie together—his fingers slowed.

“…yuma?”

he tugged once. twice. frowned.

“it’s not—shit. it’s not moving.”

you felt the first real thread of unease curl through the afterglow.

he tried again, gentler, then with more pressure. the rope didn’t give. if anything, it seemed to have cinched tighter from the way you’d been moving and sweating and arching under him.

yuma sat back on his heels, staring at the knot like it had personally betrayed him.

“i don’t understand. i practiced this. i did it exactly the same way on the pillow.”

your shoulders were starting to ache now that the adrenaline was fading. not painful yet, but a deep, warm heaviness that wasn’t comfortable anymore.

“yuma,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “it’s okay. just… try the safety shears if you have to. i don’t mind losing the rope.”

he shook his head, jaw tight. “i don’t want to cut it if i don’t have to. the whole point was to be able to untie you properly.” he tried again, fingers working carefully at the trapped tail of the knot. nothing. “fuck. i think it pulled in on itself when you came. the tension’s all wrong.”

he worked at it for another ten minutes, growing more frustrated with every failed attempt. you could feel the shift in the room — the post-sex haze turning into something tighter, more anxious. your arms were definitely starting to protest now. not emergency-level, but enough that you were acutely aware of how immobile you still were.

yuma finally sat back, breathing hard, and reached for his phone on the nightstand.

“i’m calling nicholas.”

you blinked. “nicholas? why?”

yuma was already scrolling, ears red. “because he’s done this before. not with me, of course—with other people. remember that night we were all drinking at k’s place and he started talking about that ex who was really into rope? he said he learned how to tie and untie properly so he wouldn’t fuck it up. and he’s… he’s good in situations like this. calm. i trust him.”

he looked at you, phone already ringing.

“only if you’re okay with it. i can keep trying, or i can cut it right now. your call.”

you hesitated for half a second — the idea of nicholas seeing you like this, naked and bound and messy with yuma’s cum still leaking out of you, sent a confusing rush of heat through your already sensitive body—then nodded.

“okay,” you said quietly. “call him.”

nicholas arrived twenty minutes later.

he knocked once, let himself in when yuma called out, and stepped into the bedroom with his usual easy posture—hoodie, sweats, hair still damp from a shower like he’d come straight over. his eyes flicked over the scene once, quick and assessing: you on the bed, still mostly tied, flushed and marked, yuma sitting beside you looking stressed and guilty.

he didn’t laugh. didn’t make a joke right away.

he just closed the door behind him and said, “hey. you okay?”

the question was directed at you.

you swallowed. “yeah. arms are getting sore but circulation’s fine. just… stuck.”

nicholas nodded, then looked at yuma. “you tried the usual release?”

“everything,” yuma said, rubbing his face. “i think i pulled it too tight during… y’know.”

nicholas’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t comment. he moved to the side of the bed, crouched down so he was level with your back, and gently touched the stuck knot with two fingers. his hands were warm. steady.

“yeah,” he said after a moment. “it’s seized. sweat and movement’ll do that, especially if the tail got trapped. i can work it out, but it’s gonna take time and i’ll have to be careful. cutting’s always an option if you want out fast.”

he glanced at yuma, then back at you.

“i’m happy to help. no judgment, seriously. but i’m not gonna lie—walking in here and seeing you like this…” his voice dropped a little, teasing but not cruel. “it’s doing things to my brain. so if i’m gonna sit here and work on this knot for the next twenty minutes, i need to know what the vibe is. because i can be very professional about this. or…” he let the sentence hang. “i can be helpful in other ways too. if that’s something you’re both open to.”

the room went very quiet.

yuma’s hand found yours—or tried to, since your arms were still bound. his fingers brushed your hip instead.

“baby?” he asked softly. “what do you want?”

you looked at nicholas—calm, patient, giving you every out in the world—and then at yuma, whose ears were burning red but whose cock was already half-hard again against his thigh.

the slow burn that had been building all week, all month, all the quiet frustration you’d both been feeling, suddenly had somewhere to go.

you took a shaky breath.

“um…i want…” your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. “i want you to help with the knot. and i want… whatever else happens while you do it. if yuma’s okay with it.”

yuma’s exhale was shaky, but when he spoke, his voice was steady.

“i’m okay with it,” he said. “more than okay. i’ve been thinking about it since i called him, honestly. seeing you like this… with someone else looking at you…” he swallowed. “it’s doing something to me i didn’t expect. so if you want this—if you want him to touch you while he gets you out—i’m in. i’ll be right here the whole time.”

nicholas’s smile was small and warm and a little dangerous.

“alright,” he said quietly. “then let’s take our time.”

he started with the parts of the harness that weren’t stuck—loosening the chest wraps first, working slowly, deliberately. every time a strand of rope came free he ran his fingers over the marks it left behind, soothing the skin. his touch was confident in a way yuma’s had been careful. different. new.

“you did good work,” he told yuma without looking up. “the harness is clean. it’s just this one knot that’s being a bitch.”

yuma didn’t answer. he was watching nicholas’s hands on you like he couldn’t look away.

nicholas kept talking as he worked—low, conversational, but the words started to shift.

“bet you felt real pretty while he was tying you,” he murmured, fingers brushing the side of your breast as he loosened another wrap. “all wrapped up and helpless. yuma’s got good taste.”

you shivered.

he noticed.

his hand paused, then deliberately stroked down your side, over the curve of your waist, down to your hip. not quite between your legs yet. just… close.

“you use the color system?” he asked, fingers lingering on the inner of your thigh.

you nodded.

“good to know, ”nicholas said, voice low and approving. “i’ll keep going slow, though. i’m still gonna work on this knot, but i’m not gonna pretend my hands are only here for the rope anymore.”

his fingers finally moved higher.

he didn’t rush. while his left hand stayed busy loosening the last stubborn sections of the chest harness, his right hand slid fully between your thighs. two fingers dragged slowly through your folds, gathering the mess yuma had left inside you earlier and spreading it up over your clit in one long, deliberate stroke.

you gasped. your hips twitched up before you could stop them.

nicholas made a quiet, pleased sound.

“still so wet,” he murmured. “even after everything. yuma really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

yuma hadn’t moved from his spot on the edge of the bed. his hand was wrapped around his cock again, stroking slow and tight, eyes locked on nicholas’s fingers as they circled your clit with lazy, confident pressure. his breathing had gone shallow. every time nicholas touched you, yuma’s hand moved a little faster.

nicholas kept talking as he worked—low, conversational, almost gentle even as his words turned filthy.

“bet you felt so pretty while he was tying you up,” he said again, softer this time. “all wrapped up and helpless. couldn’t do anything but take what he gave you. and now look at you.” his fingers dipped lower, pressing two inside you without warning. the stretch made your back arch. 

“still letting someone else touch you while you’re stuck. such a good girl.”

you whimpered. the remaining ropes dug into your flesh as your body tried to move on instinct.

nicholas’s fingers curled inside you, slow and deep, finding that gummy spot that made your thighs shake. his thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing tight little circles that had you seeing stars almost immediately. he was still loosening rope with his other hand, like this was the most normal thing in the world—like fingering you while he untied you was just another part of helping.

“color?” he asked again, voice steady even as he pushed his fingers deeper.

“mmph—gre-green.” you managed, voice cracking.

“good.” he rewarded you by adding a third finger, stretching you open while he worked at a particularly stubborn loop behind your back. “you’re taking me so well. yuma, your girl’s greedy. she’s squeezing my fingers like she wants more already.”

yuma’s voice was rough when he finally spoke.

“bet she does,” he said quietly. “she’s been like this all week. every time i texted her about the rope she’d send me these desperate little replies. i think she’s been waiting for something like this. fuckin’ needy kitty”

nicholas hummed, pleased, and leaned down to press a kiss to your inner thigh — soft, almost sweet—before he pulled his fingers out. he wiped them slowly on your skin, then shifted up the bed so he was kneeling beside your head.

he didn’t ask this time. he just tugged his sweatpants and boxers down in one smooth motion, then tapped the head of his heavy cock against your lips.

“open.”

you did.

he fed his cock into your mouth slowly, letting you feel the weight of it on your tongue. one hand braced on the headboard, the other still occasionally tugging at the rope behind your back. he didn’t thrust hard at first—just shallow, controlled movements that let you adjust. spit gathered at the corners of your mouth and dripped down your chin. he didn’t wipe it away. he let it make a mess.

yuma moved closer without being asked. he sat right beside your head, one hand stroking your hair, the other still working his own cock. every time nicholas pushed deeper into your throat, yuma’s fingers tightened in your hair—not pushing, just holding. grounding you.

“fuck,” yuma whispered. “you look so good like this. taking him so deep while you’re still half-tied up.”

nicholas groaned low in his chest, hips rolling forward a little more. his free hand slid down to your chest, fingers tracing the remaining ropes that framed your tits—pinching at your already sensitive nipples. 

you whined around his cock, causing him to buck slightly into the warmth of your mouth.

“she’s good at this,” he said, voice rougher now. “mouth feels like heaven. you’ve been keeping this all to yourself, yuma? selfish.”

yuma didn’t argue. he just smirked, eyes dark, hand moving faster on his cock.

nicholas pulled out of your mouth after a few minutes, cock shiny and wet. he wiped the head across your lower lip, smearing spit, then shifted back down between your thighs. he dragged his cock through your folds once, twice—slow, teasing.

“is this okay—?”

nicholas’s voice was low, rough around the edges, but steady. he was holding himself right there, the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance, not pushing in yet. one hand braced on the bed beside your hip, the other still loosely tangled in the remaining rope at your back. his eyes flicked up to your face, then over to yuma, giving both of you the space to answer.

you nodded, voice small but clear. “green. it’s okay. i want it.”

yuma’s hand tightened in your hair for a second before he answered too, voice hoarse.

“yeah. it’s okay. just… don’t cum inside her.” his ears were burning red, but his cock twitched visibly in his fist. “i want to watch you use her. but i also don’t want my girlfriend pregnant with my best friends baby so… pull out just to be safe.”

nicholas’s mouth curved into that small, dangerous smirk again.

“got it.”

he pushed in.

slow. the stretch was deeper than his fingers had been, thicker, and you felt every inch as he sank into you. the remaining ropes creaked as your body tried to arch. nicholas stayed buried to the hilt for a long moment, letting you feel every inch while he finally worked the last of the main knot free. when it gave, he didn’t untie you completely. he just loosened the box tie enough that your arms had a little more room, then started to move.

“fuck,” he breathed. “so warm. so fucking tight even after yuma used you.”

long, deep strokes that rocked you up the bed. one hand on your hip, the other sliding up to fist gently in your hair, pulling your head back so he could watch your face while he fucked you. the remaining ropes creaked with every thrust. your chest harness stayed on, framing everything, making every breath feel tighter.

yuma leaned in and kissed you—messy, open-mouthed, swallowing your moans while nicholas fucked you harder. his hand found your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple where the rope pushed it forward.

nicholas’s pace stayed steady, controlled, even as he reached down to rub your clit with his thumb in tight, relentless circles.

“gonna come again,” he said, not a question. “i can feel it. you’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

you came with a broken sob, thighs shaking, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity. the overstimulation hit hard — too much, too soon after everything — but nicholas didn’t stop. he fucked you through it, pace never faltering, thumb still working your clit until you were crying from how good it felt and how much it was.

yuma kissed the tears off your cheeks, murmuring praise against your skin the whole time.

“look at you,” yuma rasped, voice low. “taking him so well while you’re still half-tied. my good kitty.”

nicholas made a pleased sound at the nickname and rewarded you by picking up the pace just a little. his hand left your thigh and slid up to your chest, fingers tracing the rope before he pinched one of your nipples, rolling it between his fingers until you whined around a moan.

“she likes that,” nicholas said, almost conversational, like he was giving yuma a tip. “gets tighter around me every time i play with her tits.”

he kept fucking you like that for a while—deep, steady, letting the pleasure build slow and thick in your stomach. his free hand eventually drifted down between your legs again, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight, relentless circles that had your thighs shaking in minutes.

the overstimulation was creeping in fast. you’d already come twice tonight; your body was sensitive, oversensitive, but nicholas didn’t let up. he kept the pressure on your clit steady while he fucked you harder, the wet sound of it filling the room alongside your broken little noises.

“too much?” he asked, voice still low but teasing now. “or are you gonna be a good girl and come on my cock like you’re supposed to?”

you couldn’t answer with words. you just nodded frantically, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from how intense it felt.

nicholas’s hand in your hair tightened—not yuma’s gentle hold anymore, but a firm grip that pulled your head back so he could see your face while he fucked you.

“use your words, kitty.”

“g-green,” you gasped. “please— please don’t stop—”

“good girl.”

he fucked you harder after that.

the pace turned rougher, deeper, the headboard knocking softly against the wall. every thrust jolted you up the bed. the remaining ropes dug into your skin in the best way, a constant reminder that you were still bound, still helpless, still at their mercy. nicholas’s thumb never left your clit. he rubbed it in tight, fast circles that had you shaking, babbling, tears slipping down your temples.

yuma leaned down and kissed you through it—messy, open-mouthed, swallowing your moans while his hand worked his cock faster. every time you clenched around nicholas, yuma groaned like he could feel it too.

he pulled back, lips pink and a line of spit still connecting your mouths until he spoke.

“want me in your mouth, baby?”

yuma’s voice was low, rough with how turned on he was. he was still stroking himself, eyes flicking between your face and where nicholas was buried inside you. his hand in your hair was gentle, but there was a new tension in it—like he was holding himself back from just taking.

you nodded, voice hoarse. “yes. please.”

nicholas made a low, approving sound and slowed his thrusts just enough to let yuma move. he kept one hand on your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles that made your whole body twitch, while the other stayed fisted in the remaining rope at your back.

yuma shifted up the bed, kneeling beside your head. he tapped the head of his cock against your lips, smearing pre-cum across them.

“open up for me, kitty.”

you did.

he slid into your mouth with a shaky exhale, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other stayed tangled in your hair. he didn’t thrust hard at first — just rocked forward in shallow movements, letting you adjust, letting you taste him while nicholas kept fucking you from below.

the dual sensation was overwhelming.

nicholas’s cock hitting deep with every roll of his hips, his thumb never leaving your clit. yuma’s cock heavy on your tongue, stretching your mouth, the hand in your hair tightening every time you moaned around him. the remaining ropes creaked and dug into your skin with every movement, a constant reminder that you were still bound, still at their mercy.

“fuck,” yuma groaned, hips stuttering. “your mouth feels so good. look at you—taking both of us like this. my good, needy kitty.”

nicholas’s pace picked up again, rougher now. the wet sound of him fucking you filled the room alongside the obscene, slick noises of you sucking yuma’s cock. every time nicholas thrust in hard, it pushed you forward onto yuma’s cock, making you take him deeper.

nicholas’s free hand slid up to your chest, fingers tracing the rope before he pinched your nipple again, rolling it between his fingers.

“she’s squeezing me so fucking tight,” he said, voice strained. “every time you pull her hair she clenches around me. you feel that, yuma?”

yuma’s hand tightened in your hair on purpose, pulling just enough to make your scalp tingle. you whined around his cock and nicholas groaned at the way your cunt fluttered around him.

“yeah,” nicholas rasped. “just like that.”

he leaned down and spat on your clit—hot and filthy—then rubbed it in with his thumb, mixing it with your slick and the reminisce of yuma’s release. the extra wetness made everything more intense. you were shaking now, thighs trembling, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as the overstimulation built and built.

yuma noticed. he wiped one of your tears with his thumb, voice softer even as he kept fucking your mouth.

“you’re doing so good, baby. taking us so well. you can come again, can’t you? be our good girl.”

nicholas’s thumb pressed harder on your clit, circling faster.

“come on, kitty,” he coaxed, voice low and rough. “come on my cock while your boyfriend fucks your throat. wanna feel you fall apart.”

nicholas’s thumb pressed harder on your clit, circling faster, relentless.

the pressure built fast—too fast. your body was already oversensitive, trembling, tears slipping down your temples from how intense everything felt. nicholas’s cock kept hitting that deep, perfect spot with every thrust. yuma’s hand tightened in your hair, pulling just enough to make your scalp burn in the best way while he fucked your mouth in shallow, controlled strokes.

you came hard.

it hit like a wave crashing over you. your whole body locked up, thighs shaking violently as the orgasm ripped through you. a broken, muffled sob escaped around yuma’s cock as your cunt clenched down hard around nicholas—and then you squirted.

hot, wet release gushed out around nicholas’s cock, soaking his hips, the sheets, and the remaining ropes. your vision whited out for a second. your body convulsed, another smaller spurt following the first as nicholas kept rubbing your clit through it, fucking you through the intense, overwhelming orgasm.

“fuuuck— there she is,” nicholas groaned, voice strained. “good fucking girl. look at you squirting all over me.”

yuma pulled out of your mouth just in time to watch, eyes wide and dark with awe.

“holy shit, baby…” he rasped. “you’re so fucking pretty.”

nicholas didn’t stop moving right away. he fucked you through the aftershocks, slower now but still deep, letting you ride out every twitch and pulse. only when your body finally started to go limp did he carefully pull out, his cock shiny and wet with your release.

he stroked himself fast, eyes locked on the mess between your legs and the way you were still trembling.

“shit—gonna come—” he warned, voice tight.

he came with a low, rough groan, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach, your chest, and the black ropes still framing your tits. he kept stroking through it, marking you while you were still shaking and teary from your orgasm.

yuma was right there beside your head, breathing hard. the sight of you squirting, crying, covered in nicholas’s cum seemed to push him over the edge too.

“fuck—can i come on your face, baby?” he asked, voice wrecked. “or in your mouth?”

you nodded weakly, still floaty. “mouth… please.”

yuma shifted forward again, tapping his cock against your lips. you opened for him without hesitation. he slid back in with a shaky moan and only lasted a few more shallow thrusts before he was coming too—hot and thick on your tongue. he pulled back just enough at the end so some of it spilled onto your lips and chin, marking you there as well.

for a long moment, the only sounds in the room were heavy breathing and the quiet creak of the remaining rope as your body slowly relaxed.

nicholas moved first, gentle again.

he carefully worked the last of the box tie free, massaging life back into your arms with steady hands. he checked your circulation, pressed soft kisses to every deep red mark the rope had left. yuma helped too—stepping away only for a second to blow out the candles, grab a warm wet cloth to wipe you clean, bringing water, pressing kisses to your wrists, your forehead, the center of your chest.

when you were finally completely free, they both helped you sit up slowly. nicholas supported your back while yuma made sure you drank. nicholas was the first to speak, voice quiet and a little rough.

“you good?”

you nodded, still floaty and sated. “yeah… really good. that was… intense.”

nicholas stayed long enough to make sure you were steady, long enough to ruffle yuma’s hair on the way out and say, casual as anything.

“soooo—same time, next week…? i’ve got ideas.”

yuma let out a quiet, breathless laugh, ears still pink as he waved him off.

“get out of here, man.”

the door clicked shut behind nicholas, and the apartment suddenly felt much quieter. just the low hum of the city outside the window and the soft sound of both of you breathing.

yuma turned back to you immediately.

he helped you sit up properly, then pulled you gently into his lap so your back was against his chest. his arms wrapped around you, warm and solid, one hand stroking slow circles over your stomach while the other rested over your heart. he pressed a long, soft kiss to the side of your shoulder, right over one of the faint rope marks.

“you okay?” he asked quietly, voice still a little rough. “really okay? that got… intense at the end.”

you nodded, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. your body still felt loose and heavy, pleasantly sore in all the right places. the marks from the ropes were already starting to bloom across your skin—faint red lines across your chest and arms that would probably darken by morning.

“i’m good,” you murmured. “really good. it was a lot, but… in the best way. i liked it. all of it.”

yuma let out a slow breath against your skin, like he’d been holding it in.

“yeah?” he asked, a little shy. “even the… watching part? me letting him touch you like that?”

you turned your head enough to look at him. his cheeks were still flushed, but his eyes were soft and open.

“especially that part,” you said honestly. “seeing how turned on you got… hearing you call me your good kitty while he was fucking me… it did something to me.” you reached up and touched his cheek. “and the way you were still so gentle with me the whole time. it made me feel safe. even when i was completely helpless.”

yuma’s arms tightened around you. he buried his face in the crook of your neck for a second, breathing you in.

“i didn’t know i’d like it that much,” he admitted, voice muffled against your skin. “watching him use you. seeing you fall apart like that. and then getting to be part of it too…” he pulled back just enough to look at you again, eyes warm. “it felt really good. like… i got to share something with you and still have you at the end. i liked taking care of you after. both of us taking care of you.”

you smiled, soft and a little sleepy.

“i liked that too,” you said. “all of it. the ropes. the way you two worked together. the way you looked at me the whole time.” you paused, then added quietly, “and i really liked squirting like that in front of both of you. felt… filthy. in a good way.”

yuma groaned softly, hiding his face in your shoulder again.

“don’t say that right now or i’m gonna get hard again,” he muttered, but you could feel him smiling against your skin.

you laughed, quiet and content.

the two of you stayed like that for a while—just breathing together, yuma’s hands slowly stroking over your arms and sides, checking the rope marks, pressing kisses to every one he found. eventually he helped you to the bathroom, ran a warm bath, and got in with you. he washed your hair gently, massaged your shoulders, and made sure every trace of cum and sweat was gone. you leaned back against his chest in the water, eyes half-closed, while he murmured soft praise against your temple.

“my good girl,” he whispered. “my brave, perfect kitty. thank you for trusting me with that. for trusting both of us.”

after the bath he dried you off carefully, rubbed lotion into the faint rope burns, and dressed you in one of his big soft t-shirts. he changed the sheets while you sat on the edge of the bed sipping water, then pulled you under the covers with him.

you curled into his chest, one leg thrown over his hip, his arms wrapped securely around you. the city lights glowed faintly through the curtains. everything felt warm and quiet and safe again.

yuma kissed the top of your head.

“next week…” he said after a moment, voice low and thoughtful. “if you still want to… i think i’d like to try again. maybe let nicholas tie you this time. or maybe just the two of us first, so i can practice more.” he paused. “or both. whatever you want.”

you smiled against his chest, already half-asleep.

“whatever we want,” you corrected softly. “we are in this together.”

yuma’s arms tightened around you one last time.

“always. together,” he agreed.

he held you close as you drifted off—marked, loved, and already dreaming about ropes, soft hands, and the loud, sweet and steady boy who had started it all.

𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗲ㅤ © ㅤ ( 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱 — 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘇𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗔𝗜.​ ㅤ ❤︎ㅤ 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 . )

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: nekoz debut on my blog ~ ! i love this duo so im so surprised this is my first time writing them hehe i actually got this idea whilst chatting with my sweet wife @jyuugoyasmine n jus had to make it a reality bc this plot was too good to pass up on so this is lowk for her hehe (˶ ´༥` ˶) i hope u all enjoy this ~~ pls lmk ur thoughts n opinions ! i loveeee when u guys interact w me (˶˃ ᗜ ˂˶)

“no one wants you to kiss my girlfriend,” ej argued. “especially not me or her.”

“come on already,” yuma whined. “either kiss or don’t—i’m getting bored.”

nicholas looked over at you. you looked at ej, ej looked back at you, and then you looked back to nicholas.

“oh my god,” ej huffed. “you can kiss her cheek, but that’s the most you’re getting.”

you let out the sigh you’d been holding in, relieved that ej made the decision for you because you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do.

so, nicholas crawled over across the circle to you, tilted your head to the side and planted a warm, soft kiss on your cheek, lingering slightly longer than he should’ve.

ej rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval—not at you, but at his own best friend.

the game carried on, and proved quite entertaining as you got to watch many of ej and your friends share a kiss.

and then it was ej’s turn to spin.

of course, out of all the people it could’ve landed on, it landed on nicholas.

“wow, i’m pretty lucky today,” nicholas said with a glint in his eyes, a smile on his typically serious face. “tell me i get more than just your cheek.”

“you’re such a freak,” ej responded, and then he looked over at you. “it’s not up to me, though. it’s whatever y/n is comfortable with.”

your breath caught in your throat. everyone in the circle was looking at you now. it was all up to you whether or not you were okay with nicholas kissing your boyfriend.

you knew it was just a stupid party game. it wasn’t a big deal, and you knew how ej and nicholas liked to joke around and flirt sometimes. this was nothing. it was just a kiss.

“you can kiss,” you said, leaning back on your palms with a smirk. “just make sure to put on a show.”

“you’re a freak, too,” ej said to you jokingly, before turning back to nicholas.

the circle watched with anticipation as nicholas crawled across the floor yet again, then sank to his knees once he was in front of ej.

you watched carefully as nicholas brought his hands up to cup your boyfriends face, tilting his head up. ej gazed up into nicholas’s eyes, his expression completely serious. in fact, both of them looked far too serious for just a dumb party game.

their faces were getting closer and closer, their lips just an inch away. and then they were pressed together—nicholas cradling ej’s face in his large hands, their lips moving fluidly against each other.

you gulped, feeling your face start to warm. it seemed like they were actually into it, like they’d forgotten where they were and what they were doing, that it was just a game of spin the bottle. they seemed to have forgotten that people were watching them.

they weren’t even kissing anymore, but entirely making out. you swore you even saw a glimpse of one of their tongues for just a second, and it made your breath hitch in your throat.

“jesus, you guys,” yudai spoke up, laughing. “you can quit now.”

nicholas pulled back, lips glistening with your boyfriends saliva. ej stared up at him, a glimmer of something in his eye that you couldn’t make out.

if you weren’t euijoo’s girlfriend, you would’ve thought they were the ones dating. you felt like by just sitting there, you were interrupting something.

the circle fell silent—an awkward silence. nicholas cleared his throat, then shuffled back to his spot in the circle.

“um,” ej spoke, avoiding eye contact with anyone. “i don’t really wanna play anymore.”

you noticed he had his hands awkwardly positioned over his lap, and when he saw you noticed, he pulled his knees into his chest.

“me neither,” nicholas said. “i’ve kissed enough people.”

they met each others eyes from across the circle, then quickly tore their gazes apart.

“let’s go get another drink,” you suggested, trying to intercept and break the tension.

“yes!” ej agreed, hoisting himself up. “that’s a great idea.”

together, you two found your way through other party goers, into the kitchen. ej was quick to pour himself a hefty cup of liquor.

he took a long sip, then placed his cup on the counter and turned to you.

“i’m so sorry,” he said. “i don’t know what happened. i mean—i didn’t think he was gonna kiss me like that, and then it just kept going and we’ve both had too much to drink, and—”

suddenly, ej stopped talking, his gaze falling just past you, and he gulped.

you frowned, turning around to see what it was that had captured his attention. of course, it was nicholas, leaning in the doorway.

“that was hot,” he said, walking over to you two.

“shut up,” ej scolded.

nicholas chuckled, taking a sip from his red cup.

“well, y/n thought it was hot, too,” he said, motioning over to you. your eyes widened. “i saw the way you were watching us.”

ej’s eyebrows furrowed even further together, glancing over at you. both of them, with equally intimidating stares, were facing you, waiting for you to admit it or defend yourself.

what were you supposed to say? would ej get mad if you admitted that you did think it was kind of hot watching him make out with his best friend? would he think you were weird?

“i-i—”

you were sputtering out nonsense, still fighting a battle as to whether you wanted to defend yourself or admit the truth.

luckily, nicholas was there to do it for you.

“look at her,” he said with a laugh. “it’s obvious she liked what she saw. we’ll do it again for you, if you want.”

“no, we won’t,” euijoo interjected with a scoff.

and then, just for a split second, he saw it. on your face, a flash of disappointment. it was unconscious even to you, but it seemed like deep down, you were a bit disappointed that he wasn’t interested in recreating the show you’d seen just a few minutes earlier.

“wait a minute,” he said. “you actually liked it?”

“i-i mean, i don’t know,” you answered, struggling to meet either of their eyes.

“tell me, baby,” ej pried. “just tell me the truth. i won’t be upset.”

your face was pulsating, your cheeks red. it took you a minute to muster up the strength to give him the true answer.

“yeah,” you finally admitted. “i liked it.”

you glanced up at them for just a moment to see them exchanging some kind of look. you didn’t know what it meant. all you knew was that nicholas was smirking at euijoo, a mischievous little grin.

“you know,” nicholas said, setting his cup down, “i think we should get out of here.”

-

the three of you left the party together and ended up back at yours and ej’s apartment.

it was awkward, admittedly, sitting on the couch in between the two men. none of you quite knew what to say, and the silence was deafening.

of course, it was nicholas who eventually broke the silence.

“so, should we get it started?” he asked.

“get what started?” euijoo asked, already annoyed.

“you know,” nicholas replied. “your girl wants a show. let’s give her one. and now that we’re all alone, she can join in on the fun.”

euijoo glanced down at you, scanning your face, looking for the assurance that you wanted to keep going.

“you really wanna do this?” he asked you.

“if you do, i do,” you affirmed.

he took a deep breath, glancing from you over to nicholas.

then, finally, “fine. let’s go to the bedroom.”

although it wasn’t his apartment, nicholas led the way down the hall to the bedroom, practically skipping with excitement.

you and euijoo followed, and within a few seconds, the three of you were on the bed.

you were laying back against the pillows, while euijoo and nicholas sat beside each other down at the end of the bed where your feet were.

“did you like kissing me earlier?” nicholas asked, eyes trailing ej up and down.

“it was…” euijoo trailed off, searching for the right word. “fine.”

nicholas scoffed, offended.

“it was better than fine and you know it,” he replied.

you sat up on your elbows, hardly sparing a blink as you watched their faces get closer and closer to each other.

“i wasn’t thinking straight,” ej said. “it’s hard to remember.”

nicholas hummed.

“then let me remind you.”

he grabbed euijoo’s face in one of his large hands, rings probably cold on euijoo’s skin, and then joined their lips together.

you watched in awe at the way their lips seems to just melt into each other’s, how it seemed so natural the way they kissed, like they’d been doing it for years.

after a moment, ej brought his hand up and wrapped it around the back of nicholas’s neck, pulling him in even closer. at that, nicholas moaned into ej’s mouth.

you caught a sliver of one of their tongues entering the other one’s mouth, unable to figure out who’s was who’s. but then it became a battle of both their tongues, rubbing and intertwining with each other.

you squeezed your legs together, already feeing yourself getting worked up just from the sight of them kissing. all you wanted to do was to somehow get between them, to be in on their messy makeout.

euijoo pulled back a bit, glancing over at you to check on you and gauge how you were taking it so far. your eyes were blown out wide, lips glossy from how many times you’d licked them in the past few minutes.

“still doing okay?” he asked you, his torso pressed against nicholas’s.

“are you kidding?” nicholas said with a laugh. “look at her. she’s better than okay.”

ej noticed it but didn’t want to say anything so he didn’t embarrass you. it was obvious that them making out had made your horny, though. your thighs pressed together and your bright red cheeks were evidence enough.

he smiled a little.

“you can touch yourself if you want,” he offered.

that was all he said before he faced nicholas again and pressed their lips back together. you released a drawn out sigh, watching your boyfriend and his best friend devour each other.

you wanted to touch yourself, you really did, but it was nerve wracking to think about doing so in front of nicholas. he’d never see you in that kind of way, and you weren’t sure what he’d think.

regardless, he was occupied in something—someone—else, so you took the opportunity to slowly slide your hand down your body and into your pants.

straight past your panties, your fingertips brushed over your clit. you gasped, feeling how wet you already were, staring to rub the puffy bud in little circles.

nicholas’s hands trailed down euijoo’s body, desperately rubbing up and down his sides, pushing the fabric of his t-shirt up until it was bunched up around his shoulders. they pulled apart for a moment so ej could lose the shirt entirely.

nicholas’s eyes drank in the sight of ej’s bare torso, his hands gripping and rubbing your boyfriend’s supple skin.

“fuck, look at your little fucking waist,” nicholas practically growled against ej’s mouth. “you’re so sexy, juju.”

ej smiled and leaned back in, pressing his now bare torso against nicho’s as their lips intertwined once again. nicholas held ej’s waist as he slid his tongue back into his mouth, rubbing it against ej’s.

you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips, your fingers gliding further down your soaked pussy. you dragged them down your folds and back up, spreading your arousal and staring at the two men unashamed, biting your lower lip.

ej pulled back from the kiss to look over at you again.

“why don’t you take some clothes off, baby?” he suggested in that sickeningly sweet voice of his.

you immediately obliged, sliding your hand out of your pants to take your shirt and bra off, all while maintaining deep eye contact with him. you almost didn’t notice nicholas stripping as well, revealing his toned abdomen.

you unbuttoned your pants and got rid of them, left in nothing but your drenched underwear. both of the men eyed you hungrily, but ej was the first to make a move. he detached himself from nicholas and made his way up the bed over to you, finally kissing you instead.

you tangled your fingers in caramel-colored hair, moaning into his mouth. he kissed you slowly, sweetly, carefully, and you wondered if it was the same way he kissed nicholas.

meanwhile, nicholas rid himself of his pants, left in nothing but his boxers. he stared as you and ej kissed, watched the way your legs quivered and spread. there was a patch of wetness on your thin panties, and it had nicholas’s cock twitching.

“do you want him to touch you?” ej asked, briefly pulling back from your lips.

you glanced over at nicholas, feeling a wave of insecurity and intimidation wash over you at the way he was staring with that hard look on his face.

“i-i—”

“he won’t bite,” ej assured you, glancing behind his shoulder at nicholas. “even if it looks like he will.”

nicholas fixed his expression, trying his best to look less threatening for your sake.

“you’re soaked,” he commented, inching his way over to you and euijoo. “let me take these off you, yeah?”

silently, you nodded, gasping when his cold, ringed fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and slid them down your legs. you tried not to think too hard about it—the fact that you were now completely naked in front of your boyfriend’s best friend, your bare cunt on full display for him.

sensing your horror, ej leaned back in and kissed you, distracting you from your embarrassment.

you gasped into his mouth when you felt nicholas’s fingers swipe up the length of your pussy, gathering your excess of arousal. he spread the wetness around, and his fingers prodded at your entrance. just when you thought he was going to slide them in, he dragged them back up and pressed down on your clit instead.

you whimpered into ej’s mouth, humping your hips up into the air desperately. it made nicholas chuckle, and only aggravated you.

“she’s so sensitive,” he mumbled, slowly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers. “you’re just as fun to play with as ej.”

ej hummed before he pulled apart from your lips, glancing down at where nicholas’s hand was rubbing you.

“don’t tease her,” he scolded. “she’s been good, you can fuck her with your fingers.”

you gulped, surprised to see your boyfriend take such authority when he was normally more submissive leaning. even nicholas looked surprised for a moment to be told what to do, but nonetheless, he obliged.

slowly and gently, he slid his fingers inside your pussy, getting you nice and stretched out. you cried out, gripping the bedsheet as your walls clamped around his slender fingers.

“fuck,” nicholas mumbled. “she’s so warm ‘n wet.”

ej began peppering kisses down your jawline and to your neck, and you felt like you were in heaven. the soft suction of his lips on your neck and nicholas’s lengthy fingers pumping in and out of you was euphoric. you didn’t think it could get better until you felt another hand on your pussy—euijoo’s.

while nicholas was finger fucking you, ej began to slowly rub your clit in circles, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

“oh my god,” you moaned, not even knowing what to do with yourself because it felt so good.

“is that good, baby?” ej asked you.

“yes, euijoo,” you choked out, clenching around nicho’s fingers. “it’s so fucking good.”

he smiled against your neck, continuing to kiss his way down until he made it to your chest. he wrapped his lips around one of your erect nipples and began suckling softly on the bud, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure and relaxation.

you couldn’t believe this was happening—you had two of the sexiest men you’d ever seen in your life pleasing you at the same exact time. ej rubbing your clit and sucking your nipples, and nicholas fingering you so deep that you were practically wetting the bed with your arousal.

suddenly, taking advantage of the fact that your lips were free now, nicholas brought his face to yours and kissed you—for real this time. his lips on yours and the way he kissed you was nothing like the way ej kissed you. nicholas was rougher, more intense. his tongue found its way into your mouth quickly, and you had to match his pace, so you rubbed your own tongue against his, exchanging saliva.

you moaned into his mouth, your fingers tugging on ej’s hair as he tugged your nipple between his teeth. you were practically riding both their hands, inching yourself closer and closer to your high. you needed it desperately, and you couldn’t hide it from them.

“you gonna cum, baby?” ej asked, gliding his tongue around your nipple.

all you could do was nod into nicholas’s mouth, unable to speak even if you weren’t kissing him. he plunged his fingers as deep as they could go inside of you, and your legs clamped around both their hands.

“fuck!” you yelped, breaking apart from the kiss. “shit, nghhh—i’m cumming!”

you threw your head back, releasing a strained moan as your climax washed over you. you tugged your boyfriends hair, tightening around their fingers as the knot in your stomach undid itself.

“fuck, that’s it,” nicholas cooed, watching the way your legs twitched as you started to come down. “so fucking pretty when you cum.”

he pulled his fingers out of you, and ej detached from your nipple. they were both sat on either side of you, looking down at you. ej carefully caressed your tummy, lulling you back down from the intensity of your orgasm.

“you’re so hard,” nicholas suddenly said, motioning to ej’s cock, straining obviously in his pants.

suddenly, nicholas was reaching over you to plant his palm against ej’s covered length, feeling it pulsate under his hand.

“fuck,” ej hissed, instinctively jutting his hips forward, pressing his cock further into nicho’s grasp.

nicholas smirked at his best friend’s reaction, squeezing ej’s length over the fabric of his sweatpants. he dragged his hand back and forth, but when he decided that wasn’t enough, he tugged on the waistband and tugged them down enough for ej’s length to spring free.

at the sight of your boyfriend’s dick drooling with pre cum, you eagerly sat up on your knees and positioned yourself in front of him. ej looked down at you tenderly, bringing his hand to the back of your head to guide your mouth onto his length.

you took him well like you always did, kitten licking up the precum from his tip before taking the rest of his length into your mouth.

ej sighed in pleasure, dropping his head back. you glanced up, only to find nicholas leaning forward and planting a firm kiss to ej’s neck.

“fuck,” ej groaned, bringing his other hand to the back of nicho’s neck.

it was hard to keep your eyes open with the tip of his long cock gagging you when it hit the back of your throat every few seconds, but you refused to miss what was occurring in front of you. nicholas sucking hickeys into ej’s neck was a beautiful sight, and you could feel yourself getting worked up all over again.

and it only got better when you watched ej’s hand carefully drag down the front of nicho’s torso, stopping at the waistband of his boxers. they made eye contact, seemingly exchanging information telepathically, and then ej was slipping his hand into the other’s boxers.

“oh shit,” nicholas moaned as ej began stroking him slowly. “fuck—that’s good.”

you watched the bump of ej’s hand moving in nicholas’s boxers, so entranced by the sight that you found yourself slacking on the blowjob you were giving.

“mmm, keep going, baby,” ej urged, drawing you back in with that coaxing voice of his.

you turned your attention back to him, pushing him as deep into your throat as you could go. you clenched your eyes shut in discomfort, hollowing out your cheeks.

you deep-throated him for a few minutes before he let you up for a much needed breather. when your eyes reopened, you found that nicholas’s boxers were to his knees and ej’s hand was pumping his thick cock in a rapid motion.

again, you sat back and watched in awe. the chemistry they had, the way they both seemed to know what the other one liked, left you dumbfounded. you truly began to question if this wasn’t the first time they’d done something like this with each other.

“f-fuck, euijoo,” nicholas grunted, grabbing ej’s wrist. “slow down, i’m close.”

“finish him off,” ej suddenly said to you, and your eyes widened.

“what about you?” you asked, glancing over at his long cock, standing straight up against his abs from how hard he was.

“don’t worry about me right now,” he retorted. “wanna see you take nicho, okay? wanna see you swallow everything he gives you. can you do that, pretty girl?”

you gulped with nerves, but nodded nonetheless. it was always hard to say no to ej, not that you wanted to.

you sat yourself on your knees in front of nicholas, face to face with his cock. a long vein ran all the way up from the bottom to the top, and so you traced it with your tongue before wrapping your lips around his bulbous tip.

“holy shit,” nicholas moaned, his hand finding the back of your head—not to push you, but to keep it firmly rested there. “that’s it, that’s a good girl.”

his words practically made you purr, your pussy nearly dripping onto the bed. you were so horny despite having cum all ready, but you needed more.

luckily, your boyfriend sensed that. before you knew it, ej was spreading your legs and positioning himself between them. and then, from the back, he licked a firm, electrifying stripe up from your hole to your clit, a lick so pleasurable that you whimpered around nicholas’s cock, jolting in delight.

“oh, yeah,” nicholas muttered. “fuck—is that good? you like getting your pussy eaten while you’re sucking me off?”

you eagerly nodded your head, your mouth stuffed too full to speak. although, you figured that even if your mouth wasn’t full, you still wouldn’t have been able to say anything. you were so fucked out, already dumb and you hadn’t even gotten fucked yet.

ej drank your arousal and licked your pussy up and down, circling the tip of his tongue against your puffy clit. you didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you opted for planting them on nicholas’s sharp hips, which gave you the leverage to suck him even deeper into your mouth.

your moans vibrated around his length, and he fucked his hips forward, making you gag when he hit the back of your throat.

“‘m fucking close,” he warned, tugging on your strands of hair.

you blinked up at him, your cunt tightening around euijoo’s tongue in excitement. just the thought of nicholas cumming was enough to make you feel like you could cum soon too.

he fucked his cock in and out of your throat a couple of more times before tensing, and then you felt the first string of hot, salty cum, hitting your tongue. you swallowed it and continued to do so with the ropes of it that followed, giving both him and ej what they wanted.

and nicholas looked so good when he came—his face scrunched up, releasing an array of beautiful sounds, abs tight and glistening with sweat—that suddenly, you felt like you were going to release all over euijoo’s face.

“e-ej!” you cried out, pushing your hips back into his face. “oh god, right there!”

his tongue rapidly flicked up and down, and suddenly, you, too, were cumming. you released all over his face, drenching him with your wetness, and he slurped it all up, licking your cunt clean.

you collapsed flat on your back against the bed when you were done cumming, looking up at the two men tiredly.

“wake up,” euijoo said, spreading your legs and making room for himself between them. “i haven’t cum yet, baby.”

your body was pliant from you sleepy you were, making it easy for nicholas to pick you up and place you on his lap, your back pressed to his sweaty chest. you put your feet on the tops of his thighs, spreading your legs and revealing your glistening pussy to ej.

you leaned back against nicho’s chest, steadying your breathing as ej lined himself up and nudged in until just his tip was inside you. with how wet you were, it wasn’t going to be hard for him to get you adjusted to his size.

as he slid inch by inch, nicholas wrapped one hand around your waist and brought it down to rub your clit. he used the other one to slide up your stomach and land on your breast, tweaking your hard nipple.

you felt like you were on another dimension, sandwiched between these two men, both of them stimulating every part of you. you felt so good, you couldn’t even do or say anything except lay there and take what they were giving you.

ej bottomed out and was quick to start thrusting, fucking you at a consistent pace from the start.

“is it good, baby?” nicholas asked in your ear, kissing just below it. “use your words.”

“it’s so f-fucking good,” you cried out, your body rocking back into his chest every time ej thrusted into you.

“you’re so pretty,” ej whispered, leaning forward to peck you on the lips. “such a sweet thing letting us play with you like this.”

you turned your head to the side and met nicholas’s lips, letting him snake his tongue into your mouth. you rubbed your tongues together, moaning pathetically and tiredly as ej fucked you hard and deep, his tip quickly finding your g-spot.

“mmmmph, oh my god,” you mumbled against nicholas’s mouth. “it feels so good.”

“i know,” nicholas cooed, pinching your nipples between his fingers. “i know.”

ej stared down at you in awe, perched on his best friend’s lap, making out with him. it was such an outrageously hot sight that he wanted to take a picture, and that way he’d never forget it.

but he was too close. he couldn’t think about stopping now, not when his orgasm was rapidly approaching. you could tell, too, based on his hips were moving fluidly, his thrusting losing its rhythm.

“cum again for me,” he commanded.

you looked up at him with big, watery eyes.

“can’t,” you whimpered out.

“hey, yes you can,” nicholas cooed, pressing his fingers firmly onto your clit. “you can do it. be good and cum for us, okay?”

you tossed your head back against his shoulder, and ej couldn’t resist. with your neck exposed like that, he felt like a magnet the way his hand immediately reached out to wrap around it. he squeezed just slightly, applying only a touch of pressure, but he knew it was just what you needed to get you to the brink of orgasm.

you clenched around him, legs shaking and threatening to close, but he kept them open. he thrusted, once, twice, three more times and then abruptly stopped, buried to the hilt inside of you.

you came with a silent, choked moan, your entire body twitching in nicholas’s lap. ej stuffed you full with his warm, sticky load, panting like he’d just run a marathon.

he slowly thrusted, riding and milking out both your orgasms, fucking his cum deep inside of you, where it belonged.

you were a mess. all three of you were, but you especially because—and you hadn’t realized it—but nicholas had cum against just from his cock rubbing against your back a few times. you were covered in cum from the inside out.

ej pulled out and helped you off nicholas’s lap. the three of your lay beside each other, practically melting into the sheets.

for a good ten minutes, there was silence. you were dozing off and only awakened when you felt a wetness on your skin.

you opened your eyes and realized the wetness was from ej wiping you off with a damp towel.

“you okay?” he asked, leaning down to kiss you softly on the forehead.

“mmm, yeah,” you answered tiredly.

nicholas was off the bed now, cleaning himself off and redressing. you realized, even in your tired state, that you didn’t want him to go. you didn’t like how neither them were laying beside you anymore.

“wait,” you called out weakly, getting nicholas’s attention. “can you guys just…get back in bed? can we just go to sleep together?”

ej and nicholas exchanged a glance.

“both of us?” nicholas asked.

“yeah,” you said. “if that’s okay.”

nicholas, who’d just put his shirt back on, immediately took it back off and crawled back into bed with you.

“more than okay,” he assured, kissing your cheek.

ej chuckled and climbed back into bed on the other side of you, pulling you into his chest.

“i could get used to this,” you mumbled, closing your eyes.

and you could. you felt safe with both men there on either side of you. you thought that you didn’t want this to be just a one time thing.

“yeah,” ej agreed. “me too.”

Byun Euijoo was the prettiest man in existence. Byun Euijoo was as beautiful as the poets described inanimate objects to be in their frantic rants on aesthetic crumpled paper. Byun Euijoo was your moon, sun, stars, galaxies and everything in between.

Byun Euijoo was yours and you were his and everything was hunky dory in this simple life. 

Anyways let's move on and be on our merry way—

Oh hello there, horniness. Whatever are you doing here? 

Yeah. 

You wanted to ride Byun Euijoo’s cock till the crack of glorious dawn. 

One slight issue, not much of a problem really. How the actual hell were you supposed to ask your sweet tangerine of a boyfriend if you could sit on that beautiful dick that the gods had blessed him with and ride it like a heady stallion? It was in such situations that you realised you should really not let your uterus control your brain. 

It wasn't to say you two hadn't ever had sex with each other. Hell, your current beloved was the man who had taken your virginity, wrapped it up in caramel wrappers and kept it all to himself. As he should, if you were being completely frank. 

You remembered your first time like it was just yesterday. The heavenly feeling of his slender, skilled fingers entering you first, then that damned tongue of his—you were sure it could have brought Arthur and his round table to their knees had they seen how sharp it spit its pretty words, and it could have brought out Guinevere too, what with the pace at which it moved.  

And then he was in you, actually in you, and oh all you could think about was Euijoo, Euijoo, Euijoo. He was the only thing lingering in your mind, the sole thing your mind could even comprehend, as if all coherence was reduced to the tiny space that the letters of his name took up. 

And he was so sweet afterwards too, like the meat of a tangerine—shockingly saccharine, akin to the first time you'd ever tasted chocolate as a child. Euijoo had been the perfect boyfriend, the stuff of movies, the person your friends had alleged didn't exist in real life. 

He had smoothed his hand over your messy hair, cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you came down from the high of your first orgasm. Then he'd picked you right up in his arms, cradling you to his broad chest and had placed you down in a warm bath which you had no idea when he even had the time to run. And he'd even poured in all of your favourite bath salts! How sweet of him.

Byun Euijoo was the perfect boyfriend. 

The only not-too-serious problem was he was so damn gentle with it. It had taken you maybe three days of convincing for him to go even a fraction of a frequency harder. You remembered that night, when your whispered pleas and the press of your hips finally convinced him. In your point of view, it was a goddamn breakthrough.

Even then, your boyfriend was a symphony of care. Every half-harsh thrust, every gasp, was punctuated by a soft question. "Are you okay?” "Does this feel good?" "Tell me if it's too much."

His voice had been a low, tender murmur against your skin, a constant anchor even as pleasure began to build a storm inside you.

And it did feel good. So good that the world narrowed to the points of contact: his lips on your shoulder, his breath in your ear, the deep rhythm he’d finally allowed. It felt like being known, like being cherished and consumed, all at once. 

That night planted a seed, a horny demon seed, and now, it’s grown into a full, blooming want. The memory of that controlled power, that restrained strength, has curdled into a delicious, daring thought: You want to steer the ship.

The idea of riding him felt like claiming a new kind of intimacy, not just receiving his care, but meeting it—surrounding it, controlling the pace, watching his pretty face unravel from above. You wanted to see what happens when you set the rhythm. You wanted to see his hands, usually so gentle, maybe clutch at your thighs. You wanted to hear his questions turn into gasps, his careful words dissolve into your name like a sinful prayer.

Hey it was almost like you were reclaiming all that confidence you’d lost in middle school! Yay, you!

But the dilemma was how would you ask him? How would you translate this hungry (carnivorous), bubbling impulse into words your sweet tangerine would understand?

Maybe you could start with your touch—it never failed to unravel him like a spool of wool.  A slow evening, his head in your lap, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. You could murmur it into the quiet, a half-suggestion wrapped in a kiss: ‘Euijoo… I had a thought. Something I want to try with you.’

Or perhaps you use the memory itself—the way he was grunting about how tight you’d felt when he was buried to the hilt. ‘Remember when you went harder? Felt so good, Ju. Can we try that again tonight?’

You imagined his reaction, a slight pause, the way his beautiful eyes would focus, deep and thoughtful. He might blink, then a soft smile would touch his lips. He’d say ‘are you sure, love?’ and you’d whisper your ‘yes, please’ and then he’d cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

He'd say, ‘Okay,’ in that voice that always felt like a promise. Then he'd lie back and watch you, his gaze full of that same tender awe, but now mixed with a new, surrendering heat. He’d be your anchor again, but this time, you’d be the wave.

So, how would you ask? With words? With touches? With a look? 

“CanIpleaserideyourcock.” 

Or yeah you could just do that. Say your words as fast as you could and make Euijoo look down at you with that expression that you could never read.

The movie was a soft murmur in the background, some romantic comedy neither of you were really watching. His arm was draped around your shoulders, your head tucked perfectly into the crook of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent.

He’d just brought your hand up, his lips brushing a feather-light kiss over your knuckles, a habit so ingrained it was like a second heartbeat. And that’s when your gaze drifted.

His black compression shirt (why did the handsome bastard have to wear it on the one day you were a raging horny demon) clung to him like a second skin, tracing the plains of his chest, the subtle shift of muscle in his arm. Below, the soft grey sweatpants were a study in casual, devastating temptation, hinting at the line of his thighs, at the relaxed, heavy drape of the fabric between them. A contrast to your own outfit—just his oversized shirt and a pair of panties, feeling both protected and perilously exposed.

Your mind didn't just wander, oh it fucking sprinted, replaying the heat of his skin, the weight of him, the way his control had felt like both a sanctuary and a cage you suddenly wanted to rattle. The thought was a drumbeat, synchronizing with your pulse: ride him, ride him, ride him.

You must have tensed, or let out a tiny, trapped sound, because his fingers stilled on your hand. "Hmm?" he hummed, the vibration gentle against your temple. "What's wrong, love?"

His voice, always so tender, was your undoing. The question, the sweet concern, was the final crack in the dam. He was being so careful and gentle and all you could think of was his cock buried deep as fuck in you. The words, marinated in want and a frantic lack of filter, tumbled out in a single, breathless, jumbled rush.

"CanIpleaserideyourcock."

Silence.

Not the empty silence of the paused movie, but a thick, profound, living silence that swallowed the room whole. The only sound was the frantic thud of your own heart in your ears.

Slowly, so slowly, you felt him shift, his arm slipping from your shoulders. You couldn't bring yourself to look up, your face burning with a heat that could power a small city. You stared rigidly at a loose thread on the knee of his sweatpants.

Then, a finger hooked gently under your chin, tilting your face up.

You were met with the look. His beautiful eyes were wide, pupils dark and blown, but his expression was utterly, mystifyingly unreadable. It wasn't shock, exactly and it wasn't disapproval. 

It was a deep, intense focus, as if he was translating a complex and fascinating new language—the language of your blunt, desperate hunger. His lips were slightly parted, and a soft, curious smile played on them. He just looked at you, he looked at you for so long that you thought you might dissolve into the couch cushions.

Finally, his thumb stroked over the apple of your burning cheek. His voice, when it came, was low, a little rough, and laced with that same unreadable awe.

“What was that, my love?

The sound of his voice, so gentle, sent a fresh wave of fire over your skin. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone completely dry. You managed a tiny, shaky breath.

Euijoo didn’t rush you. His thumb continued its slow, maddening stroke on your cheek, his gaze never leaving yours. It was like he was waiting for a precious secret, giving you all the time in the world to form the words properly, even though you’d already thrown them at him in a chaotic heap.

Gathering every ounce of courage left in your trembling body, you forced your lips to move. This time, you tried to pace it, to give each word its own weight, though they still came out as a hushed, pleading whisper.

“I said…..can I… please…..ride your cock?”

There it was, out in the open like a wild cat. Just a full, coherent sentence hanging in the air between you. You cringed as you said each word.

The look on his face shifted, softening at the edges, that curious smile blooming into something warmer. He leaned in, until his forehead was almost touching yours, his breath a warm caress against your lips.

“Love….” He murmured, the words vibrating with a low, appreciative hum. “You do realise what you’re asking?” 

You merely hummed, suddenly having lost the microns of confidence you’d had five minutes ago. God he looked so beautiful, there wasn't any word in the lexicons of all the languages you knew to properly describe him. Those eyes, those lips, that skin—what sort of Homer or Sappho were you to depict him in a way that did justice?

“Baby.” Your boyfriend pulled back just enough to see your whole face, his eyes tracing your features as if memorizing this moment, “Tell me properly.”

His words were a tantalizing invitation, a request to step into your own desire, fully and without shame. You took a shaky breath, the air feeling thin and electric.

“Well, you know how we’ve been having sex lately…”“Uh huhh…”

“And you know how we usually only fuck….normally.” Well that was certainly one way to describe it.

“And you know how I really, really love you.”

“I really, really love you too, angel.” God he was so fucking sweet, even while you were being the most awkward deer in headlights.

“Do you not like it, angel?” Euijoo said, his expression a beautiful conflict of awe and concern, “Do you not feel good?

The concern in his voice, so genuine and immediate, shattered the last of your awkwardness. It was so him—to hear your clumsy phrasing and instantly worry he hadn’t been enough.

“No! God no, Euijoo, that’s not it at all,” you rushed out, your hands coming up to frame his face, forcing him to see the truth in your eyes. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. It’s just….”

“Just what, my love?” Euijoo asked and you took another breath. You could do this; for him, you could find the words.

“Well, I love how you take care of me. You make me feel so good, always.” You bit your lip, searching for the right way to explain the hunger that felt both foreign and fundamental, “I just want to try something new, you know? I want to make you feel good. Your voice gained a sliver of strength, fueled by the honesty in his eyes. “Please, Ju?”

You watched his beautiful face process them, his eyes darkening, his lips parting slightly on a soft, indrawn breath. The awe was still there, but his concern had been utterly transformed into a kind of captivated shock.

“Oh….” he breathed, the single syllable loaded with a universe of understanding. His hands, which had been resting lightly on your waist, tightened their grip almost imperceptibly. 

“I mean you don’t have to if you’re not comfortable.” You laughed awkwardly, averting your eyes away from his gaze, “I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea I just—”

Euijoo closed the small distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was devastatingly soft—a promise, a taste, a silent conversation. When he broke away, his lips lingered a hair’s breadth from yours.

“It’s not stupid.” Your beloved murmured, the words a warm sigh against your mouth. His hands slid from your face to your shoulders, a gentle weight, “I just don't want you getting hurt, my love.”

Now let us pause for a second, dearest reader. 

Byun Euijoo was yours and you were his. 

And my, was he a liar, liar, liar. 

Pretty liar, though.

Euijoo had the face and demeanour of a complete angel. His friends and family knew him to be nothing more than the sweet, kind boy with infinite patience. The epitome of a soft spring, as his girlfriend had dubbed him. 

But oh god if only you knew about him when the lights went off. Oh if only you knew about all the times he’d wrapped your panties around his dick and imagined it was your warm heat wrapped around him instead. Of course, he’d never force any of his fantasies onto you. He’d never want you to get hurt because of you, his pretty baby to cherish.

Euijoo had thought it had been enough—the first time you two had made love to each other. The dulcet tone of your soft mewls and moans had him going so fucking crazy. The way you’d whined his name when he entered you, he could feel himself grow even harder in you, which he didn't even know was possible. The way you looked up at him with cartoonishly dazed eyes, at the verge of going cross eyed, even though he’d been so goddamn gentle, the combination of it all had been busting maybe fifteen more times.

And the day you’d asked him to go harder? Oh that had been Armageddon. 

And now here you were, all pretty and soft and doe-eyed. And oh you were even climbing onto his lap now. How amazing for his poor dick.

Shifting forward on the couch, you placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle of them through the thin shirt. Ignoring his gentle hold, you swung one leg, then the other, over his lap, settling yourself firmly astride his thighs. The new position, the feel of him solid beneath you, the way his breath hitched—it was intoxicating. You looked down at him, at his parted lips and wide, surprised eyes.

“It’ll be good.” You said, your own voice gaining a sure note you didn’t know you possessed. “It will be good because it’s you and it’s me, and we both love each other very much and I really, really, need you right now.”

It would be the last day on earth for Euijoo’s mental stability.

You saw the moment he surrendered. The concern in his eyes was eclipsed by a dawning, deep-seated heat. A slow, breathless chuckle escaped him, a sound of pure wonder and capitulation. His hands, which had been resting on your shoulders, slid down your back, coming to rest on your hips. 

“Okay,” he breathed, the word a sacred pact. His head fell back against the couch cushions, his gaze locking with yours, full of that tender awe and now, a complete, open surrender, “Okay, my sweet girl.”

A slow, breathtaking smile spread across his face. It wasn’t his usual gentle smile. This was something new—something edged with a thrilling, surrendered heat. He leaned in, until his nose brushed yours.

“But,” He whispered, his voice a low vibration that went straight to your core, “you have to promise that you won't force yourself for my sake, hmm?”

“I won’t.” You said, jokingly holding up your pinky, “I promise.”

Euijoo took it anyway, intertwining it in his, and bringing your hands up to his lips again to kiss your knuckles. What a gentleman. 

The heat of his body seeped through his pants, and you could already feel the growing hardness of his cock pressing against your core as you settled. Euijoo exhaled sharply, hands now coming to rest on your waist, gripping just firm enough.

“Well, if you’re sure, angel.” His reluctance melted under your gaze, that secret excitement bubbling beneath his sweet boy facade. He pulled you closer, lips crashing into yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

Your mouths moved together, tongues sliding and teasing, the kiss turning messy and heated. You rocked your hips experimentally, grinding down against the bulge in his sweatpants, the friction sending sparks through you. A soft moan escaped you into his mouth, and Euijoo groaned in response, his fingers digging into your sides as he kissed you harder.

You picked up a rhythm, rolling your hips forward and back, pressing your clothed heat against his cock with each pass. The barrier between you only heightened the tease, the pressure building deliciously without any real relief. His hands slid up your back, one tangling in your hair to tilt your head, deepening the kiss as his tongue danced into your mouth in time with your movements.

Euijoo's breaths came in pants, his secret thrill making his grip possessive. He loved this—your eagerness, the way your body moved for him, so desperate. And he revelled in the fact that it was because of him. He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against yours. 

“Mmmh…..” Euijoo groaned softly against your lips, voice rougher now, his control slipping just a fraction, “So pretty, my love.”

He bucked up subtly, meeting your grinds, the outline of his cock rubbing right against your clit through your panties. You whimpered, nipping at his lower lip, your hands clutching his shoulders as you humped him faster, chasing that building ache.

“Let’s go somewhere else, hmm?”

Before you could protest, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you effortlessly off the couch. You clung to him, legs wrapping around his hips as he carried you toward the bedroom, your heart racing with anticipation.

He carried you as if you weighed nothing, your bodies pressed together in a seamless, heated line. The journey to the bedroom felt both eternal and instantaneous, a blur of hallway shadows and the soft, grounding sound of Euijoo’s breathing against your neck. 

When he reached the bed, your beloved lowered you with a reverence that stole your breath, following you down so his body covered yours, caging you in warmth and strength.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you beneath him—hair fanned out, lips kiss-swollen, chest rising and falling with the same ragged rhythm as his own. His thumb traced your lower lip.

“You’re sure, angel?” Euijoo murmured, with a kiss to your cheek that made you smile, “Like, one hundred sure?” 

You shifted atop the bed, heart thumping as you moved to straddle Euijoo's hips once more, the mattress dipping under your combined weight. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, but he kept his hands at his sides, palms flat against the sheets, giving you the space to lead. You could feel the hard heat of him through the thin fabric of his sweatpants, a direct line to your own aching core. 

You smiled up at him, “Yes, Ju, I’m sure.”

“Alright then.” He said, pressing a final kiss to the tip of your nose, before rolling to the side, lying back against the pillows, his gaze fixed on you with raw anticipation. The trust in his expression was absolute; he was handing you the reins, fully surrendering himself to your desire.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you gripped the hem of your shirt—borrowed from him—and pulled it up over your head, letting it fall to the floor. Cool air kissed your bare skin, you felt exposed, vulnerable, but the way his breath hitched made heat pool in your core. 

Next, you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your thighs and off, kicking them aside. Now fully naked, you sat there for a beat, feeling his hardness twitch against your bare pussy through his sweatpants. Euijoo's jaw clenched, his chest rising faster. 

“God, angel, you're so fucking beautiful like this…..” he murmured, voice low and rough, but he didn't move, honoring your turn to take charge.

Emboldened by his words, you reached for the edge of his shirt, tugging it upward. He lifted his arms to help, peeling it off and tossing it away, revealing the lean muscles of his torso. 

Your hands moved to his sweatpants, fingers dipping under the elastic to grasp the base of his cock briefly before you pushed the fabric down. He lifted his hips, letting you slide them off along with his boxers, his thick cock coming free, hard and veined, the tip red hot. The first touch of bare skin to skin was electric, a sharp, shared gasp filling the room. 

You paused, staring at it, the sheer size making your throat dry. As it always did when you had sex with him. Yeah you were (sort of) used to the size by now, but oh the feeling of him splitting you open like a walnut? You could never get used to it, even if you got married and had twins with him. But that’s a fantasy for another day.

Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him slowly from base to tip, feeling him throb under your touch. The skin was hot, velvet over steel, and you marveled at how your fingers barely met around his girth. 

“Shit…” A low groan escaped Euijoo's lips, his head falling back against the pillows. “Nghh—keep doing that, my love…good girl.”

Internally, his mind raced—your sudden boldness, the way you handled him so tentatively yet purposefully, it ignited that side of him no one would ever see, making his cock ache even more. He wanted to flip you over, pin you down, and drive his cock into you, but he held back, savoring your initiative like ice cream on a summer Sunday afternoon.

You stroked him a few more times, thumb swirling over the head to spread the precum, before positioning yourself. Lifting your hips, you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance, the blunt head nudging against your slick folds. 

Well here went all your sanity down a hole.

You remembered the first time you thought ‘oh I’m kinda in love with this guy’. It was a Saturday morning, and as all Saturdays are—romantically lethargic—you’d gotten up at 11 am, to the smell of toast and the outline in the bed where your lover should have been.

You’d found him in the kitchen, a kiss the cook apron wrapped round his waist (you happily obliged the instruction later), the tip of his tongue stuck out and his brows furrowed in concentration as he peeled a pomegranate for you.

His fingers, oh those slender fingers that always knew juuust where to touch and fiddle to have you squirting around them. They were dyed faintly red now, presumably from a few accidental squeezes of the seeds.

Euijoo didn’t even notice you saunter up to the counter, merely picking up another pomegranate and splitting it open and ohhhh

Oh he was splitting you so fucking open.

What the fuck were you even thinking about right now? What was there even left to think about as you sliiidd down on his length, evoking emotions in your head that you were sure only the heavens themselves could explain properly. 

A gasp tore from your throat, turning into a moan as the burn hit—he was so much thicker than you'd remembered from the times when your back would be comfy against the mattress and your body shadowed by his broader frame, filling you in a way that made your walls clench instinctively.

“Oh—nghhh Euijoo!” You whimpered, pausing with just the head inside, your body trembling. How the fuck was he this big?

Euijoo chuckled softly, the sound warm and affectionate, though his eyes burned with restrained hunger. His hands stayed down, fingers curling into the sheets.

“Easy, my love. You’re doing so well.” He said soothingly, “Breathe, baby—just try again hm?” His voice was soft and encouraging, but inside? Inside he was on fucking fire, the sight of you struggling to fit him was driving him wild, like a wolf to some stray deer in the forest.

You nodded, biting your lip, and tried again, lowering yourself further. The stretch intensified, his cock pushing past the initial resistance, and tears pricked at your eyes. He felt huge, splitting you open, and you'd only had him in one position before, where he controlled the depth. Now, it was all you, and the fullness made you cry out, a sob mixing with your moan as you hovered at just a couple inches in.

“Hah—c-can’t!” You whined, tears spilling over, your hands pressing against his chest for balance, “Too big Ju, I can’t—hmmm….”

Euijoo's chuckle deepened, still gentle, but his cock pulsed inside you, betraying his arousal. He would have been a liar if he said this wasn't the prettiest you’d ever looked, tears like the finishing touches of paint on the masterpiece of your cheeks. 

“Shh my love.” Euijoo consoled you, “My brave girl, so perfect for me. Keep going angel, you can do it.”  He didn't touch you, letting you fight through it, though every fiber of him screamed to thrust up and bury himself deep as deep could be humanly defined. 

Wiping at your tears, you took a shaky breath and sank lower, inch by glorious and oh fucking hell did you mean glorious inch, until you had him halfway in. Your pussy fluttered around him, stretched to its limit, and you panted heavily, sweat beading on your skin. 

“Euijoooo…” You pouted down at him, “Help me—hahhh—feel so full…..” You sounded so pathetic, so needy, so damn ready to give up every last bit of your sanity just to make it fit.

It was borderline insane how much you had his composure unravelling so beautifully. Just one word out from the pretty little mouth of yours in that pretty little tone and Euijoo was a gone man. Please, you’d said, his pretty angel asking him so politely. Now who was he to refuse? 

“Oh?” Euijoo said softly, tilting his head, “I thought you wanted to do it on your own, angel.”

“Can’t…” You whined in anguish, “Can’t do it Ju….need your help, please?” 

“Mmhh,” He hummed, pretending to think, “You sure you don’t wanna try on your own, my love?”

You shook your head frantically. He moved a little as he chuckled and you were like a volcano just ready to erupt. His voice was so soft in your ears, his tone so concerned for you and oh your boyfriend was so pretty and his dick was so good, and you were quite honestly about to die. 

“Please, Ju?” You moaned, rocking slightly to ease the pressure, but it only made you feel him more, “Please—just need it in….I promise I’ll do everything—-ah hahhhh—everything else…”

That was his breaking point. ‘Everything else’, oh weren’t you just fucking sugary sweet? Euijoo's hands shot to your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with a firm grip.

“Alright, my love.” Euijoo chuckled low, as if he was amused by the gravity of the situation, “Let’s settle you in, hmm?” 

In one swift motion, he yanked you down fully, his cock slamming home where it always belonged, bottoming out inside your tight heat.

The sudden fullness overwhelmed you—every thick inch sheathed to the hilt, pressing against your goddamn cervix—and your body shattered. 

A sharp cry escaped as your orgasm crashed over you, pussy clenching rhythmically around him, waves of pleasure ripping through your core. You came hard just from being filled completely, juices soaking his base as you shuddered atop him.

“Already, my love?” Euijoo held you firmly through it all, those beautiful seconds in utmost heaven. He groaned as he felt you clamp down, holding you seated on his cock, feeling your walls milk him. His eyes darkened with possession, he was so thrilled at how easily you'd knotted out for him.

Your body trembled in the aftershocks of that first orgasm, pussy still spasming around Euijoo's cock as he held you impaled on him, his grip on your hips unyielding but gentle. The fullness was intoxicating, every ridge and vein of him pressed deep inside, making your walls flutter with residual pleasure. You caught your breath, tears drying on your cheeks, and met his gaze—those dark eyes smoldering with a mix of tenderness and raw hunger.

“Good girl.” Euijoo whispered, his thumbs stroking circles over your hipbones, “You took me so well, angel. Now go on—make yourself feel good.” 

His voice was soft, coaxing, but the way his dick twitched inside you betrayed how desperately he craved this, reveling in your submission to the act.

You nodded, a shy smile breaking through as you braced your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart under your palms. Lifting your hips experimentally, you rose until just the tip remained inside, then sank back down slowly, an obnoxiously loud moan spilling from your lips at the draaaag of his thickness through your sensitive folds. It wasn't as overwhelming now—the stretch familiarizing itself—but the friction sent sparks up your spine.

It was different from anything before. This was your rhythm, your pace. And you had no idea what to do with this new found power. Maybe get drunk off of it? 

“Oh….Ju….” You breathed, starting a tentative rhythm, rising and falling with shallow bounces. 

Your thighs burned already from the effort, but the pleasure built quickly, your clit grinding against his pubic bone with each descent. You picked up speed, hips rolling in a circle at the bottom, chasing that building heat like a fairy starved of magic dust.

His head tipped back against the pillows, tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief. His breaths became ragged prayers, your name mixed with broken curses and pleas. 

"So good…..fuck, just like that…..my love, my perfect girl..."

Watching him come apart was the most potent aphrodisiac. His usual gentle control was gone, replaced by a raw, desperate vulnerability. You leaned forward, and the change in angle drew a sharp cry from him, his eyes flying open to lock with yours. In their dark depths, you saw it all: awe, adoration, and a surrender so complete it stole your breath.

Euijoo groaned low in his throat, head tipping back as he watched you through half-lidded eyes. “Fuck, yes—ohh nghh—fuck angel, you’re so—ohhh—so fucking perfect.”

He kept his hands light on your hips, guiding without forcing, letting you set the pace. Internally, his blood roared; your boldness, the way your soft moans and whines of his name came, the slick sounds of your pussy swallowing him—it was driving him fucking insane. Euijoo was aching to wreck you.

“Does it feel good?” You asked, voice breathy, leaning forward slightly to kiss his jaw. “Am I……am I doing it right?” You rode him harder, breaths coming in pants, the room filling with the wet slap of skin and your shared moans.

“More than right, my love.” Euijoo rasped, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb flicking your nipple, “Keep going angel, don’t stop.”

His praise spurred you on, and you ground down deeper, faster, wilder, the coil in your belly tightening again. But your legs quivered, muscles fatiguing from the unpracticed motion. You hadn't anticipated how tired you’d get after just a few minutes. How the hell did he do this every other day for you?

After a few more determined thrusts, exhaustion hit like a wave. Your rhythm faltered, hips stuttering as you slumped forward, forehead pressing against his chest, gasping for air.

“Ju…I can’t—too much…” You whimpered, still clenching around him, but your body refused to lift anymore. The fullness kept you on edge, pleasure teetering but not quite tipping over.

“Aww my poor baby—tired alright?” Euijoo's chuckle was dark, affectionate, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close. “You’ve been so good for me, my love.” He kissed the top of your head, but his hips shifted beneath you, a subtle flex of his abs. “Just hold on tight for me, yeah?”

Before you could respond, he planted his feet on the mattress and thrust up sharply, his cock driving deep into your core. 

The sudden jolt made you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as he set a brutal pace, bucking up into you with controlled power. Each upward snap, snap, snap, filled you completely, his tip battering that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyes.

“Fuck—take it for me, my love.” Euijoo’s voice dropped to that arousing timbre he rarely let slip, hands clamping on your ass like magnets to iron to spread you wider for his thrusts. “Hmm—feel that baby? Does that feel good?” 

You could only moan incoherently, body rocking with his movements, pussy stretched and pounded relentlessly. Forget stars, you could see the andromeda galaxy behind your eyelids as they snapped shut to focus on this delicious, delicious experience.

“Euijoo—oh god, yes! Harder, please!” The words tumbled out, desperate, as he railed into you, the bed creaking under the force. 

His control was slipping, unleashed in the way he angled his hips to grind against your clit with every plunge, sweat dripping down his temple.

"Look at you," he whispered, "Look at what you do to me, you beautiful girl."

His hips began to meet yours in a stuttering rhythm. The force of his thrusts, combined with your grinding pace, pushed you both swiftly toward the edge. The world narrowed to the shared gasps for air and the blinding point of friction where your bodies joined.

You could feel your climax building like a tidal wave, the pleasure threatening to consume you whole as a lover consumes the seeds of a pomegranate. Euijoo's thrusts grew more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, punctuated by your moans and Euijoo's grunts of exertion.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," Euijoo moaned, his hips snapping in a particularly hard thrust. “Hmm my pretty angel—gonna make you cum aaall over my cock. You want that? Say it.”

"Euijoo!"  You cried out, your back arching. “Yes—please, Ju, make me cum!” You begged, tears of overstimulation pricking your eyes again, the pleasure coiling unbearably tight.

"Cum for me, my love," Euijoo commanded, his voice rough with his own impending release. "Good girl ohhhh fuckkk—thaaat’s it, my love.”

His words pushed you over, and your orgasm shattered, juices soaking the sheets beneath. Your pussy clamped down on Euijoo's cock, milking him for all he was worth.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Euijoo groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge. "Yes baby, nghhh…..."

He came with a broken shout, his body arching off the bed as he spilled deep inside you. The feeling of him pulsing within you, so utterly lost to pleasure, triggered your second climax. You wailed his name, body seizing in ecstasy, riding the waves as kept fucking you through it, prolonging the bliss until you were a trembling, boneless mess slumped against him once more.

For long minutes, the only sound was your labored breathing slowly returning to normal. Euijoo’s strong arms, still trembling with the aftershocks of his own release, wrapped around you completely. He gathered you against him, turning you gently onto your side so he could press your back flush against his chest. Every inch of his skin was warm and damp, a perfect mirror to your own.

Euijoo nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his breath a soft, calming tide against your sensitive skin. His lips found your temple, pressing a kiss there that was so tender it made your heart ache. Then another on your cheekbone, another just below your ear—a soft, worshipful trail.

“Shhh, my love,” he whispered, his voice a raw, husky rasp that vibrated through you. One hand splayed possessively over your stomach, holding you close, while the other came up to gently brush the sweat-damp hair from your forehead. “My perfect, perfect angel. You were so good. So brave for me.”

He pressed another lingering kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve got you. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

Slowly, carefully, he shifted. His softening cock slipped from your body with a soft, intimate sound, making you both shudder with a final, gentle aftershock. He didn’t let go for a second. He simply adjusted his hold, rolling you both just enough so you were nestled side-by-side on the messy sheets, facing each other.

His eyes, dark and soft and full of a love so profound it stole your breath, searched yours. His thumb traced the apple of your cheek, wiping away a stray tear of overwhelm.

“Rest now, my love.” Your beloved breathed, “I love you so so much, yeah?” Euijoo leaned in to capture your lips in a chaste kiss—soft and endlessly sweet. 

Byun Euijoo was the love of your life.

Byun Euijoo was yours and you were his and everything was hunky dory in this crazy life. 

And all that was left was to giddy up!

fin. 

A/N: if it wasn't obvious enough, hi i am in love with this man. the day a euijoo giddy up edit comes on my fyp is the day my grave shall be filled. Remember when i said Killshot Baby was my favourite child amongst my fics? Yeah i think giddy up has taken her spot now!

divider by @bonnieknowsbest

&team taglist: @eu1joo @kwnnies @nichozzystuffs @blueuijoo @pglpblm @ikigaijo @leehancore @dearvampyr @riri4andy @tokunodoll @sunsoomi @makizdoll + Shoot me an ask or comment to be added!

you weren’t thinking about anything anymore—no worries, no words, just the raw, primal need for more.

your jaw slackened, and a thin string of drool escaped the corner of your mouth, wetting the pillowcase as your eyes glazed over in a state of pure, erotic stupor.

“look at you, angel,” he groaned, his breath hot on your neck. “totally gone. just a dumb, dripping mess for me. you don’t need to think, sweetheart. just feel how deep i am.”

desperate for more contact, you reached back, grabbing his muscular arm and pulling it forward, guiding it around your neck to lock you in a tight headlock. the pressure against your throat only heightened the arousal, making your head swim.

the moment your arm locked his in place, nicholas reacted with a surge of aggression. he gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your skin, and began to fuck you with a renewed intensity.

he hammered into you, each thrust faster and harder than the last, the sound of his pelvis slapping against your ass echoing through the room.

you were completely undone, your face pressed against his bulging bicep. as he drove deep, your head lolled, and you began to drool directly onto his skin, the moisture slicking his arm. you couldn’t form full sentences, your brain turned to mush by the sheer pleasure of the friction.

“nicho… oh god—weno…” you moaned, your voice broken and breathless. you leaned into the headlock, whispering frantically against his skin, “it’s so good… so deep… please, please, just keep fucking me…”

he let out a guttural growl, his pace becoming frantic. he was drilling into you now, hitting that sweet spot with every single plunge, driving you further and further into a mindless haze of pleasure.

you were nothing but a shaking, drooling mess beneath him, completely conquered by the depth of his cock and the weight of his praise.

nicholas’ breathing had turned into a ragged, animalistic snarls, his entire body trembling with the effort of the friction. he felt your walls clamping down on him, milking him with every desperate twitch of your muscles.

he let out a loud, guttural roar, his hips locking forward one last time, burying his cock as deep as it could possibly go, pinning you flat against the bed.

the sensation was explosive. you felt the hot, thick jets of his cum erupting deep inside you, pulsing against your cervix in heavy waves. the sheer volume of his load filled you up, the warmth spreading through your womb, making you cry out in a high, broken wail.

you were shaking, your brain completely fried, your eyes rolled back as the orgasm ripped through you, leaving you twitching and mindless.

but as the initial peak subsided, the hunger didn’t leave. you were still in that drooling, vacant state, your mind replaced by a primal, aching void that only he could fill. even as he started to soften slightly, you gripped his arm tighter, pulling his bicep back against your cheek, your voice a needy, incoherent whimper.

“more… please, weno… don’t stop… fuck me more,” you sobbed, your hips grinding back against him, begging for the friction to return.

nicholas groaned, the sound vibrating through your spine. he was still half-hard, his cock swimming in the slick mixture of your juices and his own seed. he didn’t pull out, gripping your hips again, his fingers bruising your skin, and began to slide back into motion.

the sound was wet and squelching, the excess cum acting as a lubricant as he started to drive into you again, slower at first, then building back up to a punishing pace.

“you’re such a greedy angel, aren’t you,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “i just filled you to the brim, and you still want more? you just want to be my little breeding sow, don’t you?”

the word breeding snapped something inside you. you let out a whimpering moan, your head lolling as you drooled onto his arm again, your voice a desperate, breathless whisper.

“yes.. please… i want your babies… fill me up, weno… please make me pregnant… wanna carry your babies…”

the request drove him wild.

the thought of claiming you permanently, of planting his seed deep inside your womb until you were swollen with his child, sent a fresh surge of hardness back into his cock. he shifted his grip, grabbing your hair to pull your head back, exposing your throat while he hammered into you with a possessive rhythm.

“you want my babies now, angel?” he growled, his thrusts becoming frantic and deep again, slapping your ass with a loud, rhythmic crack. “gonna pump so much cum into you that you’ll be leaking for days. gonna make sure you’re knocked up, angel. you’re going to carry my brat, and you’re gonna love every second of being my bred-out toy.”

you were completely gone, a shaking, sobbing mess of pleasure. every time he bottomed out, you felt remaining cum being pushed deeper into you, the thought of impregnation making your pussy clench around him in tight, rhythmic spasms.

you begged him, your words slurred and broken, “fill me… please, nicho… give me your babies…”

he didn’t stop, drilling into you with a relentless intensity, determined to leave you completely saturated and claimed, fucking you into a state of total, blissful oblivion.

“don’t worry, angel… daddy’s gonna make sure he put his babies into you…” he growled into your neck, planting a quick peck against the soft skin.

you giggle. “you missed some.” his brows furrow and follow your eyes that focus suspiciously close to bottom of his boxers. a small spot of purple peaked out beneath the black fabric and with a tug upwards he revealed another constellation of bruises. 

“fucking little minx,” he mumbled with a grin as he lunges forwards. you squeal, trying to seek shelter under the pillows but he’s faster. his legs position themselves next to your waist as his hands push away the pillows. big hands cup your face as he presses his lips on yours.

“told you no marks, baby” he mumbled, but you could tell he wasn’t really mad at you. 

“well, actually”, you breathed between kisses. “you said no scratches, i followed orders.” this earned you a slight slap of your thighs through the plush covers. 

“you’re such a brat, you’re lucky i need to get out soon.” 

before he managed to get up again you wrapped your arms around his bare torso, fingers slightly digging into his skin. 

“baby i really gotta go,” he coos at your pouty lips and sleep filled eyes. “come visit me later, hm? get ready at your own pace and come watch.” 

you nod and his hand finds your cheek again, this time softly stroking it. but you wouldn’t let him have his peace this easily, teeth snapping at his hand. he managed to pull away just in time and laughed, leaning down one last time to give you a short kiss. “brat.”

and now you found yourself sitting here, in the corner of the dressing room, legs pressed together as you try to keep yourself from panting at the sight of him. nicho noticed your squirming around, brow raising in confusion before realisation hit. he muttered a few words to the stylist and started making his way over, crouching in front of you.

“you good baby?” he teased – of course he knew the effect he had on you. you shoved his shoulder with faux annoyance and he took your hand, pressing a kiss to it. “we had our fun last night and you’re already all riled up again?”

the room was filled with people yet he still spoke with such casualty that you couldn’t help but blush at his bluntness. his empty hand finds your knee, slowly tapping against it before slowly inching up your thigh.

“nicho,” you hiss with wide eyes, looking around the room with panic.

“thought you wanted my attention?” he questioned with a cocky laugh. 

“yea but…not in front of everyone.”

“well in that case,” he started, fingers tracing mindless shapes on your legs “how about we catch some fresh air before the need me again, hm?”

it was embarrassing how quickly you frantically started nodding, chest heaving with anticipation. and before you knew it he had you pressed against the wall of the hidden room in the back of the hall. 

his hands were all over you, your waist, your neck, your ass, your hip – he was everywhere and it drove you crazy. hot open mouthed kisses were placed on your neck as it lolled to the side for better access. you were just about to tangle your fingers in his hair as he tutted out a soft “no touching baby, can’t have you mess up what everyone spent working on.” 

you whine, partly because of his instructions, partly because of the sensation of his tongue and teeth grazing the delicate skin of your neck. 

“‘s unfair nicho.”

he chuckled, giving the freshly formed love bite a quick lick. “well i do have to punish you a tiny little bit because of last night princess.” 

at an excruciating slow pace his fingers dragged themselves down your neck, stopping at the swell of your chest before cupping them with one firm motion. you gasp, a small high pitched noise escaping your mouth, soon replaced by a full on groan as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and index finger. 

“please,” you plead, eyes shut in pleasure. 

if there’s one thing that nicho loves about you, is that you ask him so fucking sweetly when you get all needy for him. how can he say no to you?

with practiced ease he unbuttons your jeans, the fabric gathering around your ankles. to your surprise he doesn’t tease the wet spot on your panties, but yanks them down your thighs. 

his fingers move over your slick folds, wasting no time dip not one, but two fingers in. you gasp at the sudden fullness, clenching around him. 

“relax, baby. need you to loosen up so you feel good.”

skilled fingers plunge in and out of you, curling just the right way to hit the gummy spot inside of you. his lips suck away at your chest, pretty red spots forming all over your tits. 

you’ve had him eat you out before, many times, but never not at home. this was risky and you both felt it, his ego loving the thrill of someone catching the two of you like this.

“nicholas?” a knock on the door. 

you froze and his hand covered your mouth, urging you to be silent.

“you guys okay?”

he cleared his throat, “yea, y/n’s just been feeling a little dizzy today. give me a few minutes, she’s feeling much better already.” 

with that he plunged a third finger into your leaking hole, causing you to abruptly jerk forward, falling into his chest. 

“no worries man, let us know if you need anything.”

nicho doesn’t wait for the footsteps the quiet down, mouth closing around your covered nipple, biting down on the sensitive bud. 

“oh god,” you choke out and he drops to his knees. his fingers continuing to plunge in and out of you with calculated speed. he wastes no time slurping away at the liquid that messily spilled out of you. 

obscene sounds echo off the walls and if you hadn’t been so fucked out you would worry that you could be heard all the way down the hallway.

his lips closed around your clit, sucking at the sensitive bud and you squirm. “hold fucking still baby,” he mumbles into you pussy, tongue darting out to kitten lick the delicate bundle of nerves. 

he sucks and swirls his tongue around, fingers continuing to abuse your gummy walls and you feel like you’ll pass out any second. you didn’t even notice until a sob escaped you that tears were streaming down your face at the immense pleasure you felt. 

“feels that good hm? taste like fucking heaven too, pretty.” nicho pulls away for a second, halting his motions and you whine. “let me admire you baby,” he answers, before spitting into your already gushing pussy, earning a gasp from you. 

your juices are dripping down his chin, but he couldn’t care less as he practically makes out with your pussy. his teeth graze your faults, breath fanning over the wet flesh before his mouth slurps at your leaking hole. it’s pornographic how he hums, moving his head from side to side as he devours you. 

strained moans escape your throat, heart hammering against your chest as hot flashes zap through your body. mindlessly, you reach for his head. with a quick slap on the wrist he stops your movement, biting down on your clit in punishment. 

“told you no touching. listen or i’ll stop.”

“‘ve no balance baby,” you gasp out. 

his free hand, the one that wasn’t exploring your insides now dug into your left hip, pressing you flush against the wall. 

“better?"

his voice was barely noticeable, face buried between your legs, refusing to separate from you for even a second. but nicholas wouldn’t be nicholas without starting to grope around. within seconds he started moving his hands backwards, grabbing the flesh of your ass, fingersnails digging into with delicious pain. 

“fucking prettiest thing i’ve ever seen, hm? all gushing for me, making such a mess on my face. better thank the makeup artist later for investing in such a good setting spray baby?” 

the filthiness of his voice make you clench, sucking up the digits inside of you and he groans. 

“feels that good baby?" you only manage a weak nod. 

“come on, pretty,” he urges, “tell me how good my fingers feel.” 

“feels so so good, i love your fingers so much,” you slurred out.

as if you weren’t blissed-out already, he sped up the pace, the sound of squelching embarrassingly loud. your moans grow louder, head dropping toward, low lidded eyes making eye contact with the man on his knees in front of you. 

god he looked good. muscled arms flexing at the overwhelming pace his plunging his fingers inside of you, eyes flipping back and forth between your fucked out face and the wetness running down your thighs. wetness, that’s also glistening on his face, his chin and nose. 

“such a pretty thing you are. so fucking good for me.” 

his praise drives you crazy, body reacting to every single one of his words. and of course he notices. 

“you’re close, hm?”

words have left you long ago, heck you could barely control your body anymore and all you managed to get out was a mix of whines, moans and a strangled sob. 

“i gotta go back, princess. let’s make you cum, yea?”

and just like that his mouth was on your clit again, sucking violently. your knees threatened to buckle and he positioned them one his shoulders, strong hand pinning you back against the wall, head keeping you in place. 

your legs flexed around his head, one hand grabbing onto the nearby closet while the other digs into his shoulder. 

“‘m gonna cum,” your voice barely noticeable over the slurping sounds. 

all it took was one hum of him against your clit and your body locks up. white flashes erupt in your limbs as you feel the wetness flow down your legs. 

nicho happily slurped away at the liquid, satisfied with the unplanned amount spilling out of you. if it had been for him he would’ve stayed this way for another hour, but you pushed weakly at his head, overstimulated clit aching in pain. 

“well that was a first.” he grinned and you blinked. just then you noticed the obscene amount of wetness on the floor. 

your eyes widened, “that was me?!”

“fuck yes that was you pretty,” he beamed at you, eyes filled with pride and adoration. “didn’t even mean to make you squirt but here we are. gotta try that more often, you looked so hot.” 

you blushed, which was hilarious. you were practically sitting on his shoulders, his face directly in front of your pussy and you still blushed.

his hands moved up and down your thighs, softly placing your shaky legs on the floor. carefully, he inspected the skin, giving each and every little mark a soft kiss. 

“you okay, baby?”

you nod, eyes dropping low from exhaustion, your high still lingering. 

“come on,” he mutters as he helped you put your jeans back on. “i gotta go back, we’ll find you a place to rest."

strong arms wrap around you, soft lips peppering kisses on your temple. 

“and besides, i’d appreciate the favour to be returned after i’m done here. i deserve it, don’t you think?”

your roommate always had an obsession with you.

whether you tried to keep it as just a friendship or gave up and never stopped his pushy neediness… you never expected to catch feelings eventually.

the back of your head is buried deep into the couch cushion, his hands embracing the curves of your hips.

his teeth nipping at the skin of your small, squishy stomach.

slowly moving down, his lips pressing onto the poking pelvic bone before marking the skin hungrily.

“fuck— i can’t stop...” his voice was cracking from his drunken state.

his hands move to the waistband of your shorts, gently tugging them before swiftly pulling them to your ankles.

your damp panties glistening in his hazy vision. the soft whimpers escaping your lips were fueling the growing tightness of his boxers.

one hand moved to toy with the lace of your panties— the other kneading into your plush thighs, slowly creeping to the deep innermost parts.

his sharp jaw relaxing, the long slim fingers of his right hand now rubbing against the fabric of your panties.

you bite down hard on your lip— trying to muffle any last sane part of you, the moans fighting against your throat, almost choking you.

biting down on your lips until the bitter metallic sting your tongue.

slowly bringing the fingers to his mouth, yuma— spreading the sweet wetness of you on his lips. slowly pushing them into his mouth, savoring every last drop of you on his warm tongue.

his saliva strips like strings before slowly wrapping around his fingers.

a low hum escaping his throat, raspy.

“fuck… you’re so sweet.” his moans are barely voluntary.

his nails dig into your inner thighs, the thin of them nearly cutting the flesh. his heavy breath fanning your core. a soft whimper escape you, cupping your mouth.

his panting grew heavier— eyes darkening, his self-control slowly slipping.

his lips tremble, head buried between your legs— his teeth grazing your thighs, moving to deeply bite into your plush thighs.

“oww— fuck that hurts.” hissing as you fist his short black hair.

a small whimper escapes his feasting teeth.

“i’m sorry, mommy— i can’t help it… you’re so soft. …fuck~”

his tongue hungrily licking the dripping wetness leaking from your pussy.

“you’re so wet… i can’t control it.” a small pout plastered his messily soaked lips.the hungry lips on his face now purple— swelling from his uncontrollable thirst.

his fingers that now were covered in his saliva, make their way past the thin fabric of your panties, gently rubbing the throbbing of your clit.

a sharp whine escaped your lips, tears building from the constant teasing. your hips buck forward. “… god please… i can’t take it…”

a snarky smirk on his face, his fingers continuing to tease your wet folds, gliding back and forth, agonizingly slow. his quiet demeanor almost pissing you off.

in a sudden his two fingers slide into you, pumping in painfully fast, your walls tightening about them.

“oww— fuck!” you howl, your fingers digging deeper into the back of his head, that stupid smirk now dropped.

his free hand moves to tear off your panties, fisting them in his hand, his fingers pumping into the deep soft spot— right where it makes your thighs tremble closed.

his heavy breath roughly panting against your sensitive skin. his nose brushes against your hot clit, making your body fold in pleasure.

his fingers pull out, with one clean pop; his tongue vicious— hungry— uncontrollably smashing onto your pussy.

his two large hands palming your thighs, spreading them far apart. the wood frame of the couch digging into your skull, the soft cushion plush against your back, your hand grasping and pulling his head.

your moans sloppy— his tongue working in soft circles. one hand escaping your thighs— reaching for the black panties, pulling them to him.

his eyes dart to you, staring back at you softly, checking for any discomfort.

his hand drops the panties, now dipping into his tented boxers, gently stroking his shape before pulling it out of the waistband, his hard shape slapping against his stomach, the hard tip dripping long wet lines of pre cum, the veins twitching.

he moans against your clit. he lets in a deep inhale before the squeak escaping his mouth as he exhales, his hands jerking his cock; his hardness painfully unsatisfied.

placing soft kisses against your sensitive bud. his hands jerking— roughly stroking his shaft, he groans a mess, his mouth eating you out like a vicious animal. your back arched against him.

your head thrown back, loud whines, thighs fighting to close, trapping him deeper between them. his lone free hand fighting to pin one down.

his eye stinging, tears running down his cheeks from the overstimulating pleasure, roughly jerking himself— aiming to release on your perfectly laid out black panties, his tongue licking at your entrance, lips kissing your clit, your wetness dripping onto his nose and chin.

he mumbles against your pussy, “fuck.. ngh— fuck i’m so close.” you pull his hair, lips chattering.

“cum for me— cum for me like a good boy.” you purred— words slurred, messy, whined too loud.

his body responds, hips bucking, mouth frantically hungry, the wet sounds of you bringing his climax closer.

he couldn’t pull himself together, whole body was weak. his mouth now glued to you, working like a hungry animal on your sensitive plump pussy. swirling his tongue against your lips.

he could feel the twitching of his aroused cock between his clamped hand, messily with each final stroke— his eyes shuddered.

“fuck— fuck— ngh..” his voice cracking at each thrust— his nose buried deep into your wet pussy.

his loud moans make your walls tighten around the emptiness. his tongue playing with your wetness, parting his plump lips— flicking his tongue on your clit. his hunger never satisfied, his mouth having an unsatiated craving.

the force of biting on your lips— now bloodied and bruised, thighs fighting to close, the softness wrapping around his sweaty head.

his cock twitching— throbbing, his mouth messy on your wet folds.

“fuck— ngh… cum for me like a good boy.” your chest quickly rising and falling, your pants turning into groans. the sensitive skin of your inner thighs cupping his ears.

you felt the knot growing heavy in your stomach, your vision blurring as the stars aligned, nearly feeling yourself pass out before you snapped back into reality.

your hips jerking onto his face, the sudden gush of your arousal covering his face, the liquid dripping from his nose, his tongue savoring every last drop, slowly cleaning your messy folds; in a way that only made the experience more euphoric and overstimulating at the same time.

as his tongue worked to clean your slit, his own cock twitched one last time before his thick streams of white cum covered your panties.

yuma’s body collapses into you. vision blurry, eyes glued shut as his hand loosen around his twitching cock.

the moans of his fill you, head buried in between your legs like a bookmark. hips jerking, the hand on your thigh now losing its strength. softly he cry’s a whimpering.

his soft pants slowly die down as he catches his breath, his jaw still half open, the swollen plump lips of his mouth covered in your cum now glisten in the dim lights of your shared apartment.

you’re completely caught off guard, surprise evidently shown on your face and said man just knows it’s because of the rare situation. like, what he is doing in your room? how was yuma able to sneak him passed you? the pale man could only get more pale but he’s already set on his idea.

“hi...” his voice sounds as meek as it is deep, deeper than the red flush traveling down his neck and coloring his ears..

maybe going to you and yuma about this would be detrimental. or maybe not. i mean, who else would he go to other than his best friend that knows exactly what he wants to learn?

yuma quickly turns your attention back towards him with a hand gripping your jaw, craning your neck as he crouches down to your eye level, and you just want to smack that frown off his face for interrupting your cooking.

“hey kitty, lemme fill you in briefly.” he tilts his head slightly, tone overly sweet for a good reason — perhaps to himself. you’re still trying to find reason for all this. “jo here just needs a little favor from us and as my duty as his teacher for practically everything, i must help him out.”

there’s silence for a moment as you’re looking between the two different men. yuma was the one who breaks it first, like always.

“you know, a little something back for all the tutor lessons he gave me for that other class.”

.. okay, he didn’t have to mock you like that.

the narrow squint of your eyes is what gets the man to continue. “and you do remember our conversation the other day, right? about who could be our… plus one?”

immediately, your eyes blinked wide as big as saucers. he’s watching you clearly through his blonde bangs but you avoid his gaze, knowing how they dilate in glee upon seeing the flush that spreads over your cheeks in recollection of what he brought up.

you definitely can recall the past discussion clearly, how he sat criss cross across from you with an enthusiastic look on his face as you listed potential candidates to your shared fantasy. throughout the talk yuma did not stay silent though, he definitely threw his two cents in with a list of his own, the names of two other men ringing in your ears with a bit more consideration…

he chuckles through his lopsided, toothy grin once you’ve caught on, raising an eyebrows as you finally speak up.

“why would you even bring tha—”

“because this is a perfect chance. jo wants to learn, you have your lil necklace on,” he points out, letting his hand fall from your jawline to twirl the small pendant of your necklace around his finger, the same necklace you use to let him know how freely you want him to take. he remembers clearly when you both exchanged jewelry after a well thought out conversation. “we wanted a plus one…? two and two together…?”

okay whatever, it adds up.

you should be mad at him, you should hit him for even thinking of this, you should question him on how long this teaching thing has been going.

but he’s right— however much you want to smack him and run away before he pull you over his shoulder to repeat this again. you’ll never tell him he’s so right but you figured he already knows by how he leans away, hands falling back onto his hips as his shoulders jump from his stifled laugh.

you took one look back at jo, who raises his eyebrows and blinks his usually narrowed eyes back at you with a hopeful gaze. the sheepish smile that settles on his full lips could only mean that he’s most certainly spoken to yuma about some another fantasy of his as well.

the sigh that empties from your lungs was deep and the fidgeting of your hands was evident, but the way you shift where you sat and the obviously coy look you gave yuma was all he needed to get to work.

you sort of knew what you were getting into, but you didn’t think it would be like this.

right when yuma pushed you back onto the mountain of pillows and told you to stay silent, you immediately caught onto his idea. and now that you’re in this deep, soaked panties thrown somewhere else in the room and long gone, you’re not sure whether or not is really was a good idea.

“okay jojo,” he mumbles and you wish he would’ve never picked up on the little nickname you called jo, giving out a deep sigh at the sound of his purr instead of scolding him. “she’s all yours.”

and fuck, was jo ready. so ready it caught you off guard by the immediate way he leans in to suddenly lick over your entire slit, glasses pushed all the way up and still on. you can see the way yuma’s grin widens from where he laid besides jo, relishing on the soft moan that tumbles from your parted lips. despite it being a first experimental taste, you’re completely winded. he was eager, like he was waiting for this moment all his life, ready to coat his lips with your shining slick.

“like that?” jo mumbles way too close to your cunt and your eyes almost roll at the soft gaze he gives yuma. yuma’s grip on your thigh tightens and you’re catching his stare, feeling yourself grow hotter under his feline stare. what a freak, getting off on seeing his girl get used.

“mhm, just like that.” he nods, pushing your knee closer to your own stomach while turning his attention the glistening wetness of your pussy. “do whatever you feel is right, i told you she’s your doll to play with.”

yuma’s marveling at how slick you’ve already gotten in the span of this spontaneous scene happening, much to your dismay. yet, it’s clear how effect you both are, and jo is completely unaware and just focused on learning more.

he doesn’t waste no time, remembering what instructions yuma gave him from before and putting it to good use. yuma can’t help the small giggle from seeing how eager he was and how you struggled to hide your moans.

“hold on,” both you and jo grow back into your senses at the command yuma gives him, a sharp exhale falling from your lips when jo pulls off from your swollen clit with a wet pop. hm.. what a good boy. you glance back down between them and find jo staring at your cunt with an expression you can’t really make out through your clouded mind. “it seems like you have something to say…?”

ugh, you’re dizzy from yuma’s teasing nature. it’s clear you all want this, want him to continue but, you wait. gnawing onto your raw bottom lip, you wait. watching jo’s heavy and half fogged up glasses slide a bit further down his perfect nose, you fucking wait.

it’s like jo loses all prior confidence within that one second, blinking rapidly as he tilts his head in thought. he doesn’t know how to word it without being blunt but you didn’t think the words he chooses were going to affect you that much.

“so wet. it’s, like, almost bubbling. is she always like this?” speaking as if you weren’t there and you know how much yuma loves to indulge in it. your sheepish whine gets caught off by the cocky man. “jojo—”

“always. at least with me,” yuma simply shrugs and pairs it with a smug smile, leaning his chin over jo’s shoulder to marvel with him at the sight. it should be embarrasing. “means you’re doing a good job, jo, and you just got started..”

your eyes meet yuma’s just as he utters those words, sharing a moment, both knowing why exactly you’re this wet. you’ve clearly been needing this.

jo swipes his tongue over his lips, the sight rendering you speechless despite not saying anything. just the image and the feeling of him tasting your essence was enough to make you tremble underneath their hands, your eyes lowering down to the mess jo’s already made with his tongue instead. your hands fidget with the sheets, not uttering a word. maybe you should just let yuma teach…

“remember— lick, suck, kiss, maybe even nibble,” you hear yuma mumble as he presses the side of his face closer towards jo’s, pushing against his glasses until they’re sitting crooked as he’s squishing his cheek against jo’s. “serenade the lovely lady, worship the kitty, adore her… and maybe, you’ll hear a purr in return.”

he had no fucking business talking this way with such a nasty grin. you would yell at him if it didn’t outright affect you so clearly. it irks you knowing how much fun he’s having speaking this way — especially because he knows he can with jo. said man only speaks in obscenely blunt words to get his point across and yuma always gravitated towards him for that exact reason. he has always been intrigued by jo and now he is savoring the moment.

you would never tell him you were always in fact intrigued by the same, opting to kick yuma’s shoulder for such lewd and stupid talk before he holds your leg further away and apart from the other with another giggle.

“lick her slick clean, kiss on those lips,” yuma keeps going and your eyes trail upwards until they’re glued onto jo, watching his glasses slide a bit further down when his nose bridge scrunches as he intakes the information whispered into his ear. “see this cute little button right here?”

yuma’s hand snakes around jo to press two of his long fingers over your bare pussy, a gasp resonated from your lips when the tips presses onto your swollen clit. sparks trail throughout your body in the form of shivers and jo’s quick to take mental note on how you react. he does not miss the way your teeth sink deeper into your bottom lip until it whitens when yuma makes you melt so easily just by a small touch.

“this is called the clit, i’m sure you’ve heard of it before,” yuma hums in a gentle manner, unlike the rough tight circles he rubs over your sensitive bundle of nerves. jo’s definitely heard it before, maybe seen it before in anatomy class, but never touched it before until now. “mhm, like textbook saying, main erogenous zone — if you wanna get her to come in your mouth, right?”

jo shouldn’t be nodding so enthusiastically. you shouldn’t even be meeting his tired gaze if you want to keep your sanity. just the thought of them staring and playing with you as if you were nothing but a model of study shouldn’t have you this aroused. yet here you were, doing exactly that, with the two people you wished to do this with. you think you’re so conflicted, but all you want right now is to cum. fuck morals, you all want this.

“if you’re fucking her with your fingers, suck on her clit,” yuma sighs as if it was something jo should already know, but that’s what you’re all here for though, to teach him the basic knowledge. so he’ll keep explaining as if you weren’t there, rubbing his fingers over your clit lazily like it wouldn’t make the heat pool hotter in your trembling stomach. “if you’re licking up her juices, rub on her clit just like this— ahh, see? look at how wet she’s getting..”

you didn’t even realize when your eyes were almost twitching closed, mindlessly working yourself closer to more heated arousal until yuma pulls his sticking fingers away, leaving you to tremble with a small whine.

“fuck,” jo murmurs, eyebrows crinkling in what seems to be agony, adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps down the drooling need pooling in his mouth. your hooded gaze lowers to his line of sight, jaw dropping as you breathe out a hitched moan upon seeing yuma’s fingers. strings of your slick connect from the tips of his glistening fingers, the line growing thinner the farther away his hand pulls. it snaps back onto your throbbing clit once it breaks, a breathless chuckle coming from besides jo. “can i— please yuma… may i?”

“go ‘head, jojo. i’m pretty sure she’s dying to feel your tongue on her again.” yuma saw the desperation on the younger man’s face, could practically hear it, grinning at your already fucked out look. yuma’s buzzing with glee at the sight, wanting to see more. so just to make you all lose your minds a bit more, he leans into jo’s ear yet speaks loud enough for both of you to hear.

“if you get her to cum, maybe i’ll even teach you how to make her squirt on the next. wouldn’t that be fun?”

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It’s a common occurrence between the two stubborn omegas to be bumping heads and swiping at each other.

Yuma was really good at getting under Nicholas’s skin

The older omega, trying his best to be patient as ever, eventually folded quickly under the cat's scratching.

Yuma stirred awake earlier than usual

The sun had barely started to rise, painting the sky in dark hues of blue

The cat half heartedly turned to check the time on his phone

The screen lighting up his face brightly

Earning a discontent groan

The time read 4:55 AM.

Tossing his phone off to the opposite side of the bed, frustration starting to stir under his skin

Yuma sat up

A small whimper falling from his lips

An uncomfortable silver ran up his spine

his skin felt sensitive and clammy, the reason for his early waking.

The blonde omega pushed off of his bed grumpily, his clothes feeling as if they were clawing away at his delicate plush skin

I need to change

He thought to himself.

The omega discarded his clothes, quickly changing into a small but loose pair of shorts and a random hoodie he found in the messy of his closet.

He didn’t remember ever having bought the grey hoodie but slips it on nonetheless, the material feeling nice and suave over his skin.

Much better.

With that

Yuma flopped back onto his bed

not putting much thought into the reason for his waking.

Laying back onto his bed basking in its warmth,

he would stay in his room and doomscroll through his phone until he heard any signs of the shared living space being occupied.

It didn’t take long, maybe twenty minutes before he heard the sound of feet shuffling down the hallway.

Perking up hearing shuffling footsteps in the distance

Yuma gets out of bed, his feet silent against the wood,

eventually making his way to the living room which had a clear view of the kitchen.

The nosy omega peeking towards the kitchen's direction in an attempt to scope out whoever had been up so early

Unsurprising to the cat the figure standing in the kitchen

It was Fuma.

Yuma recognized the scent of morning coffee brewing from a mile away

The pack Alpha always started the day with a cup of coffee leaving some in the coffee maker for whoever woke up next, today was no different.

The omega pushes his way into the kitchen, yearning for someone's attention early in the morning.

Yuma was always a clingy kitty.

Fuma had been leaning against the kitchen counter scrolling through his work schedule, not having noticed Yuma quietly walking towards his direction.

Once Yuma was close, he shoved his face into the olders chest nuzzling his face firmly against it.

For some reason the omega started to purr,

purring wasn't uncommon per say, but it was a little odd considering the two had barely made contact.

Yumas purrs filling the small space of the kitchen

Fuma was amused by the younger's display of affection so early in the morning.

Running his hands through the blondes locks petting him soothingly

Smiling crookedly at the omega

“Since when were you up? You’re never awake before 10 PM, are you feeling okay?”

The alpha asked calmly, eyebrows crooking up

before pressing the back of his hand onto the omega's forehead.

He was just a little warm, nothing concerning it could easily be passed off by morning warmth.

Which would make sense Fuma would assume the younger had just woken up.

The cat frowned at the question

It was ridiculous!

Nonetheless he pushes his pride aside and responds

“I feel fine? Just an early morning.”

The shorter stated blankly blinking, slightly confused.

Earning another crooked toothed smile from the alpha.

God forbid I want to be productive once in my life.

The blonde thought to himself which he knew was a lie, but he was going to ignore that because why wouldn’t he?

Well, that wasn’t the attention he was looking for so onward to his next target leaving the alpha alone in the kitchen.

The blonde quietly slipped into the living room to check if anyone else was up, to Yuma's luck there was

But it just so happened to be the pink haired omega he had been actively avoiding.

Yuma sits on the opposite side of the couch.

Nicholas glanced up, his eyes landing dead on the hoodie wrapped around the blondes frame

frowning immediately.

“Why are you wearing my hoodie? I’ve been looking for it for days now.”

The older's voice errupting, rough with sleep.

Yuma bit back a gasp, ignoring how hot and bothered Nicholas' voice alone made him now.

So he bit back.

Frowning back at the older omega

“Maybe don’t leave it in my closet next time? I didn’t even know it was yours?”

Yuma huffed before continuing his attack

“Why are you making a big deal out of it in the first place?"

It was more of an accusation than a question

Nicholas blinked a few times, taken aback by the younger's attitude.

He wasn’t making a big deal out of anything? He was just asking the blonde about his hoodie which he had every right to.

Before Nicholas could open his mouth to argue back

A stern voice echoed from the kitchen

“Mm mm. Zip it. I don't know what stupid shit you two are fighting about today, but I don’t want to hear it right now.”

Fuma’s voice echoed loud, clearly fed up by the two cats constant banters

Yuma huffed dramatically, crossing his arms upset at having been told off.

Was Yuma going to start his heat soon?

Nicholas thought to himself observing the upset omega from the opposite side of the couch.

It would make sense why the two had been at each other's throats, Yuma had always picked up random attitudes and fights near his heat. Nicholas being the target of these attacks.

the older usually fell for the blonde's stupid attacks and arguments

earning the reaction yuma craved so deeply out of Nicholas.

But right now Nicholas was being oddly patient.

that bothered Yuma

Yuma wanted to get the older frustrated and bothered.

He wanted the pink haired omega to jump on him, to bare his fangs and bite back.

Nicholas always fought back but never bared his teeth.

never daring to bite.

Refusing to fully give into what the younger omega really wanted.

He would have to hear the words fall from his lips before he let Yuma win his little stupid game.

The two omegas sat on opposite side of the couch,

Nicholas opting to scrolling through his phone

On the other hand

Yuma stayed sat up straight, arms crossed glaring forward.

Sulking was an understatement

It was an amusing sight to say the least.

A few minutes passed by before the oldest of the pack emerged from the hallway.

His eyes locking into the sight in front of him,

The two omegas, Nicholas unbothered, and Yuma with a frown plastered on his face.

The pack omega calls out from the hallway

“What's this?”

Yudai asked, clearly amused by the sight.

“What is Yuma upset about this early in the morning?”

Yudai smiled curiously

Nicholas simply shrugged.

Yuma didn't move an inch, not even bothering to look at the oldest. The pack omega clicked his tongue while approaching the couch catching the blonde's jaw into his fingers, tilting his head up.

Forcing the moody cat to face him

“Yuma, I'm talking to you. Don’t disrespect me, I asked what’s wrong?"

The elders grip is firm, grounding the younger

A blush creeps onto his face, his eyes meeting the elder's gaze.

“Mm sorry…it’s nothing.” Yuma leaned into the taller's touch

He couldn’t help it, right now Yuma craved someone's touch despite his stubbornness.

Yuma's sweet scent filled the living room faintly

Yudai chuckled softly, letting go of the cat's face before ruffling his hair, retreating to the kitchen to have his morning cup of coffee.

He was going to leave it to the two cats to sort out whatever feud that had going on.

Today was no different.

Yuma's smart mouth and sharp eyes.

Poking and prodding at Nicholas’s patience.

This had been going on for days now.

The older omegas patience running extremely thin.

Who could blame him?

Yuma had been acting like a dick for almost a week now.

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A few days pass, tensions rising, settling deeply between the two.

The pack sensing the tension.

It was hard not to.

There was a thick fog between the two, you could practically hold it, squish it even.

It didn’t help that Yuma was in preheat for sure

well at least Nicholas assumed.

The younger had become snappy with everyone as the days passed, his scent sweetening around the edges almost sickenly

Currently, Yuma was sat on the crowded couch squished between Taki and Euijoo,

Yuma was actively trying to get under Nicholas’s skin.

He really wanted to stir the pot right now.

And it was working.

The mischievous kitty walking on thin ice.

Licking at the weak spots.

Taki had become fussy, the poor beta having been messed around with all day.

Yuma had been feeling up on the younger all day and nuzzling into his scent glands, Yuma's sweet preheat scent overwhelming his senses.

The poor beta was currently trapped between the omega's arms and legs, Taki's back pressed up on the older's front.

Yuma locked his legs around the black haired boy's waist, one hand on his neck the other snaking its way onto his jaw.

The omega drug his face along Taki's throat, yuma’s sweet scent pouring out of him like a broken glass.

Taki frowned and whined having had enough

tapping Yuma's legs gently.

“Yum let go, this is overwhelming me.”

The younger pleaded

The omega not having liked his response

Hissing sharply

Before tightening his grip on the younger possessively.

The pack collectively turned their head at the sound that had fallen from the omega's lips.

To everyone’s dismay Fuma and Yudai were both not home,

The unfortunate thing about that was Yuma hardly listened to anyone when they weren’t around.

A stubborn kitty at heart

Nicholas was beyond fed but at this point, standing up from where he had been sitting on the couch.

“Yuma, leave the poor boy alone. Look at what you did, he's all worked up, and still asked you nicely to stop.”

The older's voice stern and ridged at the edges.

Perfect.

Yuma had Nicholas exactly where he wanted him.

The younger let go of the poor beta before pushing off of the couch to get up.

Facing the older, their face merely inches apart. Yuma tilted his head up to catch the others fierce gaze, the pack sat tense watching the intense stand off

Unsure of what to do with the absence of the two eldest

“You don’t tell me what to do, I don’t have to listen to you.”

Yuma spat out, looking the pink haired omega up and down

Challenging him

“Knock it off Yuma. What’s gotten into you?”

The older asked brows knitted together in obvious frustration.

“Make me.” yuma challenged again

Pushing Nicholas back gently

"You’re not going to do shit about it.”

That was all it took for the older

Nicholas reacted quickly, grabbing Yuma's shirt and pushing him back onto the couch.

Lacing his hands through the younger's hair flipping him onto his stomach.

The older held the omegas face into the cushion.

“You need to learn to knock it off.”

The taller whispered into his ear.

The younger whined into the cushion

Little did everyone know Yuma was right where he wanted to be his face heating up

stomach tightening.

Right at that moment the front door fell open.

Fuma and Yudai were faced with the scene of Nicholas’s hand locked tightly into Yuma's scalp shoving his face into the couch cushion.

The boys sitting on the couch with wide eyes unsure of what to do.

Yudai dropped the bags he held in his hands, the contents spilling onto the floor.

Fuma shaking his head in disappointment.

“What the hell is this? I can’t leave the dorm without you two trying to kill each other!”

Yudai’s voice erupted clearly frustrated with the scene at hand

Uh oh.

They were in big trouble.

Both cats thought to themselves

The oldest of the pack swiftly confronted the two scruffing them by the back of their necks, leading them to his room.

Yudai shoved the two boys into the room

Before standing in front of the door frame blocking their exit.

“I was going to let you two figure this out on your own, but I guess you two are too fucking stupid for that.”

The older scolded harshly, crossing his arms one over another.

The two omegas sat on the elder's bed heads hung low.

“Since you two won’t make up already, and you need someone to push you. The two of you aren’t leaving this room until you’ve made up.”

And with that

Yudai leaves the room, closing the door behind him, successfully locking it.

The two boys sat on the bed not daring to say a word.

Yuma's face still flushed.

“You’re lucky kei got home, I would’ve kicked your ass.”

The small voice ghosted the air

Of course.

Yuma kept fueling the fire.

Nicholas didn’t say anything

What Yuma needed was clear

Even if he refused to say it out loud

The older pushed Yuma back onto the bed, caging the smaller in his arms letting his nose brush the bratty omegas neck.

Yuma sighed softly, throwing his head back, bearing his neck.

Nicholas laughs against his skin.

“If this was all you wanted you could’ve just said that you know?”

His lips graze over the smaller's throat, earning a small shiver from the boy under him.

“Not going to say anything?"

He asked sharply.

The blonde simply whined softly, letting his head fall to the side

His arousal could be smelt in the air.

Sickenly sweet it could be tasted through the air

Nicholas grabbed his jaw redirecting his head, their eyes meeting.

“Tell me you want it.”

His grip tightening digging his thumb and index finger into Yuma's flushed cheeks

“Closed mouths don’t get fed.“

Nicholas reminded the younger, voice velvet smooth

Yuma wasn't winning this game without giving Nicholas what he wanted.

All he needed was to hear the confirmation from the youngers lips

A sly smirk.

“Say it.”

Nicholas was teasing painfully

Yuma's pupils were already blown wide, face flushed beautifully.

The poor blonde was beyond worked up

“Nicholas-”

The smaller whined frustrated.

“Hurry up and fu-“

Yuma's words were cut off by a pair of hungry lips

The kiss shared was messy, spit slipping past their lips down their jaws.

Their tongues fighting for control

The wet mess echoing through the room.

This is definitely not what Yudai meant by "make up."

Nicholas hummed softly, pulling away from the kiss

Hands snaking up before slipping under the smallers shirt

Feeling up along the plush skin of the cats abdomen and chest with his palms

Before lifting the shirt off of the skin helping the younger get it off, tossing it to a random corner off the bed

Nicholas was admiring the smooth skin of Yuma's torso and chest

Leaning down to place wet kisses against the pale skin

Starting up from his collar bone, down to his lower tummy

Nipping at the delicate skin near hip

Yuma's back arched, lips parting letting out the smallest gasp.

If Yuma wasn't in heat before, then he definitely was now.

Slick pooling between his thighs helplessly

Feeling hazy with one agenda.

He needed Nicholas to touch him now.

The older bit his hip bone softly

Teeth dragging against the skin before placing a soft peck over it

The blonde yelped, the feeling so delicious on his skin.

Nicholas settled between the younger's thighs, his stomach flat against the mattress

bringing his hands up against the omega's hips, gently dragging his shorts and boxers down in one swift movement.

Nicholas pushes the younger's legs up, letting Yuma's thighs rest on his shoulders,

being face to face with the younger's slick folds.

Nicholas took a deep breath inhaling the sweet intoxicating scent coming from his omegas cunt.

It made his head spin and his boxers wet.

Yuma's hips bucked up chasing the older's mouth in desperation, whining pitifully

Nicholas hissed

holds his hips down firmly, before letting his hand come down to land a firm slap on the omega's clit.

Thwack!

Yuma gasped, air caught in his throat

The slap stung so good

slick pouring out at his arousal

Folds slicking up obscenely

Nicholas smiled biting his lip

"Be a good kitty for me."

he purred out softly

He let his hand come down to connect again watching intently

Thwack!

the lewd sound of his hand hitting the slick mound of flesh

Thwack!

Over

Thwack!

and over

Thwack!

Yuma hiccuped out broken whines

his head shook feverishly.

"Mm- Hm- I'll be good!"

cried out the poor boy.

Nicholas satisfied with the state he had the cat in, wrapped his hands around the younger's thighs, bringing his head down shoving his face into Yuma’s cunt

letting his tongue invade his puffy sex, licking at the entrance

earning a sharp gasp from the younger

The older omega lapped at the fluttering entrance

Nicholas’s nose brushing against his clit

The kitty mewled

The feeling so intoxicating Yuma’s thighs begin to twitch

Broken moans falling from his lips

Nicholas's hands shifting from Yuma’s thighs, to his hips holding him down

the firm grip grounding the shorter

That was definitely going to leave a mark later

Nicholas's mouth moved hungrily letting his tongue push into the shorter's hole, the muscle contracting against his tongue moaning against the skin.

He tasted so sweet.

"Nicholas!"

The stretch so euphoric.

The lewd sounds falling from Yuma's mouth only further encouraged the older omega to push his tongue in and out of the warm muscle, picking up the pace earning pitched up whines.

Nicholas could tell he was close, his cunt was clenching around his tongue frantically, indicating his approaching orgasm.

Pushing the blonde over the edge he kept his tongue pumping in and out of the puffy muscle.

Removing his hands from Yuma's hips

Lightly smacking and rubbing at the omegas clit with one hand

letting his other hand come up and wrap around his throat softly applying pressure

successfully milking the orgasm out of him.

"Ahh! HMmm-" Yuma fell apart painting the taller's mouth with his release, soaking the bed under them.

Yudai would kill them for making a mess on his bed, but both boys couldn't give one fuck about that right now

Nicholas lapped at his puffy pussy, cleaning him up.

Purring against it

The sight in front of Yuma was straight out of his wet dreams

Nicholas's chin dripped with his slick, pupils blown wide, his cheeks flushed, soaked through his own pants.

The sight alone had the younger riled up again.

Pulling the taller up for another messy kiss,

tasting his sweet slick along Nicholas's addictive tongue

Yuma moaned at the lewdness of the act

With their lips still connected the younger reached down to pull down the older's pants and boxers swiftly bringing them down to Nicholas's mid thighs exposing his neglected cunt.

Nicholas brought his hips down to connect them with the boy under him.

Hips rutting frantically the two omega's whine out unable to keep their noises suppressed, the sound echoing loudly in the room.

The older disconnected their lips grabbing under the younger's knees, bringing them up

Pressing the blonde's thighs against his chest

Practically folding the younger in half, Nicholas slid their cunts against each other, the angle and the slick making the slide easy and effortless

Yuma's back arched off of Yudai's bed clawing at the sheets beneath them

Mewling helplessly as his second orgasm approached quickly

Not long after the younger's orgasm crashes over him, Nicholas's hip rut down in shallow movement chasing his own release, growling softly into Yuma’s ear as his own orgasm follows shortly after.

The two breath heavily laying side by side on the bed catching their breaths from their intense shared orgasms.

Yuma laid back on the bed pliantly

Not having noticed the older had left to the bathroom connected to the room, bringing a wet rag to clean him up.

The touch sent a jolt through his body.

Gasping softly

"I'm sorry Yum, just trying to clean you up babe."

Nicholas muttered softly, quickly cleaning the younger up.

After both omegas were clean Nicholas pulled the shorter boy into his arms

their limbs tangled, drifting off to sleep within a few seconds.

Both omegas purring finally relaxing, having brought Yuma over the first wave of his heat

Yeah

That would be a hard thing to explain to Yudai...

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Authors note: this is my fic from ao3, reworked it a bit!

I hope you enjoyed it :3