notes: hiii this is my first post!! im looking for luné moots and friends <3 im still working on my profile but my basic info is there. i hope you like this and id love to read your comments and thoughts about it. you can also send a request if you want 🫶
pairing: ot9 x reader
tags/warnings: just fluff, bf!teamies, slightly suggestive at yuma and harua
wc: about 150-200 each member
# K
definitely loves to hug you from behind. he will burrow his face in your hair and wrap his arms around your waist, his chest firmly pressed against your back. will probably talk to you about his day in that position, his voice soft and low against your ear slowly making you sleepy. i feel like he moves a lot during the night tho, so it's not surprising to find him in a messy position in the morning; half of his body hanging off the bed, blanket all tangled up around him and hair sticking in all directions. just the cutest sight ever.
he likes to cuddle and kiss a lot in the morning before getting off the bed. if he wakes up earlier than you, he will end up accidentally waking you up from kissing your face too much.
# Fuma
wears the cutest pokemon pjm sets and buys one for you too so you can match with him. he will sleep on his back, one arm holding you on his side and against his chest (just imagine those strong muscles around you, oh god😵) still, he feels warm and soft. you will feel so safe in his arms fr.
wakes up early in the morning, like REALLY early. he makes sure to tuck you in under the blanket and leave a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room to go do some chores. will come back hours later and take you into his arms, softly caressing your hair until you wake up naturally. he will greet you with the softest "good morning" and a very sweet kiss.
# Nicholas
clingy asf. he sleeps shirtless, so he will use you as a warmth source. the moment you get in bed, his leg is throw over you, arms around your waist like a big teddy bear. he likes to nuzzle his face on your shoulder and leave little kisses on the skin there. also loves to receive love from you; soft caresses on his arm or small forehead kisses will help him relax and fall asleep faster <3
WON'T wake up in the morning. likes to sleep until late. it's usual for you to find him all curlep up against you, lips slightly parted as he breathes out softly. if you try to wake him up, he will only hold you closer until he decides it's time to start the day.
plus: i think he also likes to be the little spoon, especially when he's too tired or stressed. will even let you play with his hair if he really needs the comfort :(
# Euijoo
i feel like he's not really into cuddling a lot for some reason.. still, he won't deny you if you really want to hug him. he will wrap his arms around you, his grip very gentle, and rub your back to help you get sleepy. also loves to hold your hand, leave kisses on it and nuzzle his nose against your knuckles. i can see him humming some song into your ear just because he knows his voice will help you relax.
sometimes he wakes up before you. when he does, he likes to run his fingers through your hair and just watch you sleep, because he thinks you look so pretty and cute like that. he will be sooo careful with his movements tho in order not to wake you up. the first thing you will see when you finally open your eyes is his pretty perfect smile and slightly blushed cheeks. he's just the biggest sweetheart i swear.
# Yuma
you will be envolved in his arms as soon as you get in bed with him. i swear, that man WON'T let go of you. he's just so cat lol. he's another one who sleeps shirtless so you'll basically be squished against his chest. he can be a little freaky devil so he might slide his hand under your shirt and purposely make you shiver when caressing your skin with his fingertips. i feel like he will also slide his hand under your panties saying "it's just too warm" LOL.
will throw a tantrum if you try to wake him up, turning around and hiding under the blankets like a little kid. he will pout and try to give you the puppy eyes just so you stay with him a little bit more. and ofc you'll find yourself falling for it, who wouldn't?
# Jo
oh he's so lovely and soft. he likes to have your head on his chest as you two watch a movie on his laptop before sleeping. when he notices you've fallen asleep, he will carefully craddle you in his arms and put the blanket around you. he will wrap his arm around your shoulders, hide his face on your hair and just breathe in your scent. he will give you so many kisses while you sleep, since he won't feel as shy as when you're awake.
mornings with him are so quiet. he always whispers "morning..." (with that slightly raspy, deep voice), before kissing your cheek and bringing you in for a hug and some cuddles. he stays in bed for a while, silently scrolling on his phone while playing with your hair with his other hand. if you fall asleep again, sometimes he will join too. he just loves feeling you close.
# Taki
so clingy in a playful way. he will trap you in his arms and shower your face and neck with kisses, all while giggling like crazy. once he starts feeling sleepy tho, he lets his head fall on your chest, a silent request for head pats. he loves feeling your touch against his cheeks or through his hair, it makes him feel so safe. if one day you're feeling down or just need some extra love, he will give you EVERYTHING. hugs, kisses, reassuring... he will even share some snacks with you and listen to whatever you wanna talk about before sleeping. he won't let you go to bed feeling sad. never.
he's actually really responsible and wakes up quite early. he will give you the biggest smile and hug in the morning, just to make sure you start the day with a smile. will cook breakfast for you, just to have the excuse to steal kisses from you at every bite you take.
# Harua
loves to hug something (you) in bed. you two will lay on your sides so you can look at each other's faces while cuddling. he loves talking with you in the darkness of the night. also kisses a lot, giggles everytime he accidentally kisses the tip of your nose instead of your lips. a lot of skinship is also involved; his hands roaming along your hips, thighs, waist... but always in the sweetest, most intimate way.
a bit difficult to wake up, he needs some time to shake off sleep. will burrow himself in your neck to hide from the morning sunlight and will probably end up falling asleep again. or if he wakes up in another mood, will start kissing you there instead, press closer against you until you get the message of what he wants. will do it under the blankets for sure.
# Maki
he doesn't really care how you two sleep, but you mostly end up with your head resting on his arm (biceps🤤). one of his hands will rest in the back of your head or your nape, just so he can push you closer and kiss you whenever he wants. he likes to feel your arm around his torso and interwine your legs together.
loves when you try to wake him up with little kisses. he fakes being asleep until he can't hold in his smile anymore and ends up dragging you back into his arms to shower you with kisses instead. he stretches out so big he almost throws you off the bed everytime, only to giggle and give you the most attractive "good morning, love..." with a little accent. loves to stay in bed with you so much he will usually run late to his schedules.
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in which your boyfriend doesn't care how long you spent on your lip combo ♡ requested by @elisa21sstuff—i ended up making it more suggestive more than smutty, hope that's okay with you and you like it!!
yudai
your boyfriend stops dead in his tracks when he walks into your shared bedroom and sees you. you’re standing in front of the mirror, debating between two necklaces to go with your outfit for tonight’s date. he’s taking you to an upscale restaurant and you want to look your best.
you side-eye him but say nothing as he makes his slow way over to you, a smirk on his lips. he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on top of your head, making your bodies sway lightly from side to side. “you look beautiful,” he says, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “and all mine.”
you try your best not to look visibly flustered. three years in, and he still makes butterflies erupt in your stomach with just a few words. “thanks, baby. help me choose my necklace?”
“sure. turn around for me.”
from the upward curve of his lips and the glint in his eyes, you should’ve seen it coming—but still, he manages to take you by surprise as you turn around to face him and are instantly met with his lips to yours.
“yudai!” you say, trying to sound chiding only laughing. “i spent so long on my lip combo,” you whine, turning back around to check your makeup in the mirror. you’re good to do your lips all over.
“sorry, baby.” he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “you just looked too good, couldn’t help myself. here,” he says, reaching with a thumb, presumably to wipe your smudged lipstick—only to press his lips to yours once more.
fuma
you’re finishing up your makeup in front of the bathroom mirror when your boyfriend walks in. he seems only to be here to fetch something—but when he sees you, he changes his plans, coming up stand behind you instead, hands firm on your hips as he starts to press kisses to the side of your neck. you sigh, half letting yourself melt into his touch, half aware you have plans you’re going to be late for if you let him have his way.
“what did i do to deserve you, hm? i must’ve saved the country in a past life,” he hums against your skin.
“don’t distract me, fuma. i need to do my lip combo.”
“hm? i’m not doing anything,” he says, pressing himself closer to you, arms coming to wrap around your waist.
you swear you feel something hard against your lower back. “fuma,” you say, your tone a warning—as much for him as for you.
“what can i do when my baby looks this good?”
“you can keep it in your pants,” you bite back, making him laugh.
you manage to ignore him until you’ve applied your lip gloss. you pop your lips, proud of your work, then turn around. “okay, i’m ready to—” you’re cut off by your boyfriend’s mouth on yours.
you’re just a girl—when fuma’s lips move against yours like this, so messy and desperate like he couldn’t wait a second longer, your lower back pressed against the sink, you can’t help but kiss him back.
“we’re gonna be late,” you mutter weakly.
“they can wait,” he says, pulling you into another kiss.
nicholas
“all this? for a girl’s night?” your boyfriend asks, sitting up on your shared bed.
“yes, nicho, all this.” you ignore his pouting—you’ve had this conversation countless times already.
putting his phone down on the pillow next to him with more force than needed, he crawls over to you, sitting at the edge of the bed and staring at your reflection in the mirror. “what do you need to look so good for?”
“it makes me feel confident. we’ve been over this.”
“you’d make a trash bag look sexy, baby.”
you sigh, picking up your lipstick. “that’s nice of you to say, angel. but i’m not wearing a trash bag to the club.”
with a discontented sigh, he gets up from the bed and wraps his arm around your neck from behind your, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. that’s nicholas for you—always needy when it’s least convenient for you. “careful, baby,” you say gently. “i’m doing my lipstick.”
“i hate knowing other guys are going to see you like this.”
“who cares about other guys when it’s you i’m coming home to,” you say, probably word for word from the last time you went out without him. you’re coming off annoyed, but really, you love seeing him like this.
“i’m gonna miss you tonight,” he says, kissing your bare shoulder. it makes you shiver—he smirks at you in the mirror, fully aware of what he’s doing.
“i thought euijoo was coming over?” you ask, trying to keep your tone steady as your boyfriend kisses up your neck.
he hums. “still gonna miss you.”
then, without warning, he presses his lips to yours. “nicho!” you exclaim, leaning back. his grin is wicked as you check your reflection. “i’m gonna have to do my lip combo all over again.”
“fix it, baby. i’ll mess it up again.”
euijoo
you’re leaning toward the mirror, lips parted in concentration as you finish your makeup. euijoo has been watching from the doorway for a small while, arms crossed over his chest, a small, adoring smile on his lips. “you almost ready to go, baby?” he asks softly.
you nod. “yeah, just a minute.” you’re meeting his parents for the first time tonight at a fancy restaurant, and you want to make the best first impression possible. you’ve put it in your mind that your makeup needs to be perfect to do that. “do i look okay?” you ask, smoothing out your dress anxiously.
in a few steps, euijoo has crossed the distance between you, and plants himself behind you, one hand on your waist, the other brushing your hair behind your shoulder. he leans down to press a kiss to the crook of your neck. “you look gorgeous, as always. what are you so nervous about? i’ve only told them great things about you, they’ll love you.”
“i know, i just—i want them to think i’m worthy of you.”
he laughs light-heartedly. “worthy? baby, by the end of the evening they’ll probably wonder how i got you to date me.”
you pout, slowly letting yourself be soothed by your boyfriend’s words and gentle demeanor. “you really think?”
“of course. what can i do to ease your nerves?”
you recognize that tone—he wants something he won’t outright ask you for. but even if he doesn’t care, you won’t be late for your dinner plans. so instead of letting yourself melt into his touch, you offer your cheek to him. it’ll have to do for now.
euijoo smiles, pressing his soft lips to your cheek, and the simple touch has you relaxing already. but he presses another one, and another, progressively getting closer to your mouth—”not my lips, baby. i don’t want to mess up my lipstick.”
his lips find the corner of yours, and when he leans back, a little lip gloss shines on the corner of his lips. you shake your head, lightly admonishing him as you wipe the makeup up with your thumb. “juju…”
he only gazes down fondly at you. “you’re perfect,” he muses.
yuma
after months of being with yuma, you should know that whatever you tell him not to do, he’ll take as a challenge to do. really, it’s your fault for telling him not to distract you while you’re doing your makeup, and not to kiss you after you’ve applied your lipstick. you even give him a minute to get it all out of his system—but it only does the opposite. after the kiss, he’s even needier, clingy as he wraps his arms around your waist tightly, burying his face in your hair.
“don’t go,” he mumbles.
“it’s for work, baby, i don’t have a choice.”
“i can’t just kiss you for a minute,” he whines. “it’s not nearly enough.”
“you’ll have all the time you need when i come back, okay?”
he frowns at you in the mirror—changing his strategy from whiny to upset? in any case, it doesn’t work. you ignore his glare as you apply your lipgloss. he plants kisses along your neck, your jawline, but every time he tries to get near your lips, you lean away.
he huffs. “what’s the point of having lips so pretty if your boyfriend can’t even kiss them?”
“the one time i ask you not to kiss me, i swear,” you mumble. “you’re not going to die.”
he rests his hand on his heart, fakes a pained expression. “i just might.”
you push him away with your hip, tell him to leave you alone—you’re surprised when he actually does. he’s waiting for you in the hallway when you’re done. you think that maybe he’s matured when he helps you slip on the shoes he picked out for you, and are about to thank him when he stands and, before you can react, traps your lips in a kiss. not even just a peck that won’t do too much damage—a full-on mess of a kiss, tongue and all, his hands firm on your hips so you couldn’t escape even if you wanted to.
when he leans back, his grin is wickedly smug. “uh-oh, baby. i think you’re gonna have to redo your lipstick.”
jo
if you explicitly tell him not to, your perfect baby never messes up your makeup. he saw how long it took you to get your lip combo perfect before the party, so when you tell him, “no kisses, tonight,” he follows that rule to a tee.
it doesn’t mean he’s not desperate to kiss you, though. as you get ready together, he has to content himself with pressing soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead, and stops himself from pouting when you can’t reciprocate. during the party, his eyes keep drifting to the lipstick staining the rim of your cup, and he’s always ready to wipe a smudge if you mess up your makeup while eating. he has the self-restraint of a saint when you use him instead of a mirror to reapply your lipgloss, dumbly nodding when you ask him whether it looks okay.
after the party, as you’re waiting outside for your uber, his jacket around your shoulders, he briefly wonders whether he should wait until you get home, then decides against it. you look so cute, slightly swaying on your feet from the wine you drank, a contented smile on your face, your hand warm in his. “can i kiss you, y/n?” he asks softly. you nod happily.
the feeling of his lips on yours is such a relief after waiting all night for it. by the time your uber arrives, he’s wearing as much lipstick as you are.
harua
“okay, baby, i’m off,” you call from the hallway, slipping on your shoes.
from his position on the couch, harua perks up. “aren’t you forgetting something?”
you look inside your purse. keys, phone, wallet. “nope, i’m all good.”
he frowns, then makes his way to you. arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, he says, “you sure about that?”
your features relax into a smile. “baby, i’m sorry, i can’t kiss you. i spent too long on this lip combo to mess it up.”
your boyfriend is unimpressed. he glares at you without a word.
you walk up to him, ruffle his hair. “i’ll give you all the kisses you want when i get home, okay?”
clearly, this isn’t good enough an offer. too quickly for you to react, he leans in, presses his lips to yours firmly. then, with a huff, he walks back to the couch. you check your lips in your front camera—the damage’s been done.
“haru!”
when you look at him, there’s a small smirk playing on his lips. you’d be mad at him if he wasn’t so adorable. “have fun, angel,” he says, plopping some chips inside his mouth.
taki
the entire time you’ve been getting ready, your boyfriend has been gazing longingly at you like a lovesick puppy. it’d be distracting if you weren’t so used to it—rare are the moments you spend together when at least his hands or his eyes aren’t on you. from when you chose your outfit to now, as you’re sitting at your vanity, lips parted as you apply your liner, he’s been laying on your shared bed, staring at you like you hung the stars in the night sky.
he’s been quiet this entire time, so when he starts making his way to you, telling you how pretty you look, you know he’s up to no good. before he’s even touched you, you warn, “taki, don’t. the tutor is so strict, i can’t be late for this class.”
“who said anything about making you late?” he asks, a playful smirk on his lips as his hands find your shoulders, your hair. he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “i just wanted to admire you from up close.”
“you can do that without bothering me.”
he looks at you like a wounded puppy. you roll your eyes—you know taki isn’t really offended, he just likes to pretend he is so you’ll baby him. “fine. one kiss, okay? just one. and on my cheek.”
you shouldn’t have been so trusting. your boyfriend holds your head steady as he plants his kiss to your cheek, but of course, he doesn’t stop there. as you try to squirm away from him, he peppers kisses everywhere he can reach, your chin, your nose, your forehead, and, eventually, your lips.
he grins proudly, admiring his work in the mirror—the lip gloss on his lips, the smudges around yours. “thanks a lot, taki,” you mumble.
“the pleasure is all mine, babe.”
maki
you’re sat on your boyfriend’s lap in front of your vanity as you apply the final traces of lipstick for you lip combo. you’re both staring at your reflection in the mirror, you in concentration, him in quiet, lovesick adoration. you’re apart for one evening and he’s acting like it’s the end of the world. his big arms feel warm and reassuring around your body, his chin a welcome weight on your shoulder, but if you told him how much harder he’s making it to go out without him, he’d find a million reasons for you to stay in. however, you can’t bail on bottomless brunch with your girls.
“i get that girlhood is important and all, but surely us boyfriends could tag along once in a while?” he mumbles, pouting against your shoulder.
you smile. “we can’t gossip about you guys if you’re here.”
he gasps dramatically. “you gossip about me? what do you say?”
you ignore him as you lean forward, admiring your work. satisfied with yourself, you shift on maki’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “how do i look?”
his features soften into a fond smile. “perfect, baby.”
when he leans in for a kiss, you tut at him. “nuh-uh. i’m not letting you mess up my lip combo.”
he raises an eyebrow. “oh?”
suddenly, his hold on you tightens—you try to squirm out of his arms, but he’s too strong for you. “no! maki!” you exclaim, giggling.
he peppers kisses all over your lips, and by the time he’s done, there’s more lipstick on his lips than on yours. you sigh as you check your makeup in the mirror. “great, i have to do it all over again now.”
he’s grinning wickedly, returning to his position with his chin on your shoulder like he hasn’t done anything. “and i get one more minute with you.”
I have a very specific vision of jo accidentally overstimulating the reader because he just gets so pussy drunk and loses himself without realizing cus he just wants to make reader feel good and that’s how he feels good…. Pls tell me you understand😣 like he doesn’t even realize!!
oh don’t u worry nonie, i understand completely ;) messy eater joooo mmmmnnhhh yummyyyyy (˶˃⤙˂˶)
jo doesn’t even wait for your signal because he already picked up on many prior to coming back home and laying you on the bed, hands literally ripping off your cotton underwear and pressing against your inner thighs, pushing them further apart to accommodate his head.
he would want you to crush his skull with your thighs..
yeah, he comes to the set thought; he doesn’t mind passing out that way— in the best way he could ever imagine, just the thought makes him moan against your slick lips.
jo’s in absolute cloud nine, tasting in his opinion would be the sweetness nectar straight from the budding flower, almost purring as the slippery, liquid arousal seeps onto his tongue with every lick and clouds his better judgment.
of course, you’re squirming, back arching as he gives you no time to adjust or shake off the initial shock of him pouncing on you without any warning, but his hands keep you there and keep you close.
he wants to make a mess, his eyes slightly rolling behind his fluttering eyelids as he presses open mouthed kisses over your mound and sucks all the pleasure from your puffy lips. he’s been begging for it all day, for this every single day. he’s even said please, caressed and nuzzled into your body in ways he knows you adore. he knows you love his desperate need, the way he practically whines as he literally collapses and pressed his face into your stomach to mutter continuously, “please? please, pleasepleasepleaseplease, my love, lemme eat you, please?”
“… ok! oookay! just one more, promise??”
so he doesn’t care that he’s practically purring from your taste, he doesn’t care about the tightening grip of your hands tugging his roots, he doesn’t care about the quiver of your thighs underneath his warm palms. he squeezes the soft skin; plushy, you feel squishy, so malleable between his spreading fingers as he pulls you impossibly closer to his awaiting mouth.
his tongue is slick, full of spit. he does have a bit of a drooling problem, saliva pooling even before he was able to drag you into your room from the idea of getting his meal.
it’s for his pleasure, his hips rutting against the bedsheets underneath his body as your own buck up into his face. it only adds onto his pleasure; knowing he’s the reason for your confused whines melting into nothing but a beautiful motley of harmonious symphonies.
why wait, when he realizes he can have his fill anytime any day?
he might be suffocating at this point, but again, he does not care. his tip of nose and the majority of his lower face might be glistening with the concoction of your slick and his spit, but he’s kissing and licking until he’s had his fill.
he might as well cry in joy from how warm he felt.
he needs this.
badly. you understand..
yeah, your hands might be pushing at his forehead with weakening strength for him to pull away but he’s not done. yeah, maybe he already unknowingly pulled two orgasms from you just with his flicking tongue, but he doesn’t want to pull away.
he only does when he realizes the lightheaded buzz was coming from the lack of oxygen, lips parting from yours in a slick pop and a sigh of relief as if he was the world’s thirstiest man finally detaching from his favorite juice. his eyes roll open to glance at the mess.
puffs of his breath waft over your sensitive sex as his open smile grows at the beauty in front of him, and he could giggle from his thoughts but he can’t ignore the slight tremble on your lower navel. his lips must’ve looked as puffy, swollen and reddened as your pussy and now he just has to giggle like a drunken, love-insane man.
delicious, desperate.
yeah, you might’ve been whining for him to not look or for even laughing, but everything is muffled. he must’ve looked completely wrecked with his hooded, unfocused gaze staring directly at your sex, hair fluffed from your constant touch, covered with a glistening sheen everywhere—
i mean, he does get messy.
his tongue rolls out from his mouth to break the line of spit that connects your lips to his, because he can’t waste anything.
jo can’t waste another moment before he’s leaning into your pussy with the same open mouth sucks, his gripping hands pulling you closer as he savors every part as much as he can. it’s like a constant routine he will never ever get tired of, his eyes rolling shut from the comfort of being in his favorite place ever. his tongue flicks upwards in one long stripe before he’s leaning in once again to kiss languidly at your budding nerve as he hears your warbling whines. he knows how much you despise hearing the actual slickness of your arousal in his mouth; but maybe he does it on purpose, or maybe he just does it because he loves the sound of it.
the sound of his pure insatiable need for you in wet squelches as he practically makes out with your dripping sex, tilting and leaning his head in with each smooth as if he was deepening a kiss.
his jaw aches, but he continues to chase after your sweet lips with each audible kiss and slurp.
he has to make love to your sex somehow; care for her, treat her right, shower her in pure affection.
again, a man of his word, jo could pass out exactly like this, happy and in between your thighs. he doesn’t care about him losing his breath again as he shakes his head from side to side, hair ruffling over his closed eyelids from the movement. he can hear his name falling from your open mouth between increments, increasing in pitch and frequency, almost muffled against the sinful sounds emanating from his make out with your pussy.
“mpphh jo, you said once.. you p-promise!”
you sound utterly wrecked, his hips rutting harder into the sheets and veins protruding clear on the back of his hands from his tightening grip. he doesn’t know whether to let your plush thighs go or push them apart as they fight against his palms in attempt to close around him, testing his physical and emotional strength.
should he just let you pop his skull?
maybe his incoming release might be clouding his senses even more, but it seems like he just wants you surrounding him in every sense as well.
his eyebrows furrow upwards underneath his fluffy bangs, his cheeks painted in pink and glittering with sweat and your liquid arousal. it doesn’t surprise him when his pleasure suddenly increases tenfold as his orgasm rapidly washes over him, his hips jerking against the sheets as his lips free your delicate skin to moan.
his body is ridged as it overcomes every part of his being, his muscles tightening underneath his perspired skin before they seep into nothing but jello.
his voice is hoarse and cracking as he moans languidly, high and drawn out, lips plush over your quivering sex from the intensity of his ecstatic release and he doesn’t care about his dampening grey sweats as he rides out his high with rutting hips.
he does care about his noises, opting to latch onto your pussy to muffle his moans with vibrating hums instead after he softly comes down from his release into a soft puddle of liquid limbs.
jo’s such a mess, tears almost falling down his cheeks from the pleasure of it all.
at least he’s had his fill, and after a while of just resetting himself back to a normal state by calming his breaths and muddled brain, he pulls off from your swollen lips and gives it one final lingering kiss — full, languid, and fully sincere.
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tags - medplay, fingering (f rec), pet names used (darling, sweetheart), breast exam, dubcon, medical malpractice
mmm hot doctor jo am i right…
the bright, fluorescent lights of the doctor's office always hurt your eyes. you hated being in there, your anxiety was always through the roof thinking about being in that small room. this time, however, it was so much worse. your usual doctor, a woman in her mid to late fifties you had assumed, had mentioned to you she would be retiring by the time you had your next check-up, and her son would be taking over her patients for her. she assured you he was highly qualified and professional, but it did nothing to ease your anxiety.
the nurse calling your name brought you back to reality, your mouth raw from how long you had unknowingly been biting the inside of your cheeks. you followed her down the hall, feeling like a small, scared puppy.
“the doctor will be with you soon.” she said sweetly, handing you a gown and motioning for you to change.
the door softly clicked behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet, sterile room. you began to strip, your nipples hardening as soon as the cool air hit. you couldn’t wait for this nightmare to be over.
you sat on the edge of the examination table. the paper crinkling underneath you at every slight movement. though you had only been waiting for a few minutes, it felt like hours.
a sharp knock on the door startled you.
“c-come in!” you stuttered, the fear consuming your thoughts.
a tall, dark-haired man in a long, white doctor’s coat walked in, the nametag reading “Jo.” your previous doctor failed to mention how handsome her son was. entering your room, he gave you a small nod. he sat at the nearby computer, asking you the standard questions. he was very soft-spoken, which helped ease your nerves.
“could you move forward a little bit for me?” you followed his directions, scooting towards where he had moved to stand beside the exam bed. “could you please-“ his voice trailed off, but motioned for you to remove the top half of your gown. you complied, all the anxiety that previously had left came rushing back, nearly making you dizzy. you felt so exposed under his watchful eyes. for a second you could’ve sworn his eyes darkened into something else, almost predatory, but you quickly brushed it off. he was a professional, right?
”i would assume you perform breast exams regularly, correct?” you nodded, as he put on large, form fitting, blue latex gloves. the rubbery snapping sounding way louder in the quiet room than it used to. he moved closer, hands moving up to your breasts. three of his fingers pressed softly but firmly against your chest, massaging small circles, feeling for anything unusual.
as much as you wanted to deny it, you started enjoying the feeling of the hot doctor touching you. you let out a small, pleasurable noise. as soon as it escaped your lips, your eyes widened, your mouth opening to apologize but nothing came out. his dark eyes were fixed on yours, a small, unprofessional smirk forming on his lips.
“this is purely procedural.” jo would reassure you, but you didn’t care. his hands stayed on your chest, getting rougher by the second, his thumbs rubbing over your hardened nipples. “your doing so well for me..”
small whimpers escaped, as hard as you tried to contain them. until suddenly, he stopped. you fought back the urge to beg him to continue. after all, he was your doctor performing an exam on you.
“lay back for me, please.” jo’s soft, but somehow still sounding professional voice snapping you back to reality.
the paper crumpling underneath you, as you moved to lay on your back, feet resting on the stirrups. you felt so exposed with everything on full display, especially with the wetness that had pooled between your legs.
red flushed your cheeks as jo examined your slick cunt, the concentrated stare only causing you to feel more hot for him.
“i’m just gonna.. apply some pressure right here” the latex touching your sensitive folds sent sparks throughout your body, your cunt clenching around nothing. “just relax, can you do that for me? your doing so well, sweetheart”
the nickname excited you even more, you rocked your hips forward, chasing the pleasure. “so eager, huh?”
his gloved thumb circled your clit, “i’m gonna need you to stay still for me, okay?” he said, slowly inserting hit middle and ring fingers inside you. “just like i said, this is purely procedural,” jo reminded, but you don’t know if he was reminding you, or himself. he was clearly enjoying watching you struggle to stay still.
the latex of his glove shimmering with your arousal, jo’s eyes full of amazement in the overwhelming amount coating his fingers.
“you’re making such a mess for me, darling,” jo groaned, pumping his fingers faster. curling them just right, hitting that spongy part that made you see stars.
his left hand pressing firmly on your hip, holding your hips still his other hand made you feel so, so good.
you tried, you really tried not to, but the pleasure overwhelmed your senses. your orgasm quickly approaching, jo noticed. but of course, it was his job to notice these things. the sound of his fingers sliding in and out of your cunt practically echoed in the quiet room.
your walls fluttered around the long, slender fingers pounding into you. the knot building in your belly snapped, your vision blurred, your ears ringing as you made a mess over his fingers, and the exam bed.
“making such a mess, all over my fingers,” jo almost laughed, “look at you ruining my gloves like that. and here i thought you would be one of my favorite patients.”
a/n - i am NOT a medical professional lmao so do not take any of this seriously! i’m just a freak who enjoys hot doctors lmao
feeling very nervous to post as idk how this will be received… but with some encouragement here it is hehe
idk if u have done this already but could you do &teamies reacting to the reader calling them a good boy ? ^^
the phrase good boy acts as a psychological trigger for yudai, fuma and nicholas, though each man reacts to the praise through a different lens of desire and submission. while the words are the same, the internal collapse they trigger varies from desperate need to quiet surrender.
yudai is the type to fight the effect until he can't anymore. he likely carries himself with a certain level of pride or stoicism, making the moment he is called a good boy a total breaking point. for yudai, the phrase is a tool of domestication.
when he hears it—especially after he has struggled to complete a difficult or degrading task—his composure shatters. he doesn't just accept the praise; he craves it with a hunger that borders on pathetic.
the words strip away his defenses, leaving him panting and eager, his body instinctively leaning into the touch of whoever is praising him. for yudai, being your good boy means he has finally earned the approval he secretly starves for, turning his strength into a tool for your pleasure.
fuma, by contrast, sinks into the role with a fluid, almost instinctive grace. he doesn't fight the submission; he leans into it, finding a profound sense of peace in the relinquishing of control.
when fuma is called a good boy, his eyes glaze over, and his breathing slows, falling into a trance-like state of obedience. it is a reward that validates his utility. he finds erotic satisfation in the power imbalance, the words acting as a leash that pulls him tighter toward his pretty little master.
for fuma, the phrase is a signal that he is performing exactly as expected, and that validation fuels a desperate need to do even more, pushing himself to the limits of endurance just to hear those two words beautifully whispered in his ear again.
nicholas experiences the phrase as a sharp, electric jolt of arousal. where yudai is desperate and fuma is serene, nicholas is reactive.
being called a good boy triggers an immediate, visceral response in his body—a tightening in his chest and a sudden, heavy ache between his legs. he is the most likely to react with a soft moan or a shudder, his body betraying how much the praise affects him.
for nicholas, the phrase is a mark of ownership. it tells him exactly where he stands in the hierarchy, and that clarity is what turns him on. he thrives on the feeling of being "handled", and the verbal confirmation that he is behaving correctly sends him into a state of high-voltage readiness, making him a pliable, eager toy for you.
while yudai, fuma and nicholas react to the phrase with a sense of surrender of ownership, euijoo, yuma and jo process the good boy trigger through a different set of emotional and physical vulnerabilities. for them, the phrase isn't just a reward: it's a catalyst that unlocks specific, hidden facets of their sexuality.
euijoo reacts to being called a good boy with a sudden, overwhelming wave of tenderness that quickly curdles into raw, needy lust. he is the most likely to be emotionally affected by the praise, his eyes welling up or his lip trembling when the words are spoken.
for euijoo, it feels like a warm embrace and a strict command all at once. it makes him feel seen and cherished, which in turn makes him want to be completely used. when he hears those words, his body goes soft and pliable, his inhibitions vanishing instantly.
he becomes an open book, desperate to please you in any way possible, whether that means taking your fingers down his throat or arching his back to offer his ass, all while looking up with wide, pleading eyes, begging for more of that validation.
yuma views the phrase as a challenge and a victory. he has a playful, perhaps slightly bratty streak, and for him, being called a good boy is the ultimate prize after a period of tension or defiance. he doesn't just sink into the praise; he preens under it.
when he finally earns the title, a smug, heat-filled shiver runs down his spine, and his cock throbs violently against his underwear. for yuma, the words are the "click" of a lock falling into place. it transforms his playful energy into a focused, intense desire to serve.
once he's branded a good boy, he becomes obsessively attentive, his movements becoming precise and eager as he tries to maintain that status, pushing himself to be the most efficient and satisfying toy in the room.
jo experiences the phrase as a total mental shutdown. he is often the one who tries to maintain a facade of competence or coolness, but good boy is the kill-switch for his brain. the moment the words hit his ears, his thoughts scramble, leaving him in a state of pure, mindless arousal.
he doesn't think, only feels. the phrase strips him of his autonomy, reducing him to a creature of pure instinct. jo's reaction is the most physical—his breath hitches, his toes curl, and he often finds himself instinctively kneeling or bowing his head without even realising he's doing it.
for jo, being your good boy means he no longer has to carry the weight of decision-making; he's simply an object for your pleasure, and that liberation sends him into a state of shivering, high intensity heat.
for harua, taki and maki, the phrase "good boy" acts as a psychological key, unlocking reactions that range from a fragile, desperate need for approval to a primal, animalistic surrender. while the others might find peace or arousal, these three experience the phrase as a profound shift in their internal power dynamics.
harua reacts to good boy with a fragile, almost heartbreaking intensity. he carries a deep-seated need for external validation, and when those words are spoken, it feels like a lifeline being thrown to him.
his reaction is characterized by a sudden, breathless stillness; he freezes, his heart hammering against his ribs, as if he's afraid that moving might break the spell. for harua, the phrase is an emotional anchor that grounds him in a state of absolute devotion. it transforms his desire into something sacred and desperate.
he doesn't just want to be fucked; he wants to be owned and kept. when he's called a good boy, he becoms an eager, shivering mess, clinging to you and whimpering, his body trembling with the need to prove his worth through total, selfless submission.
taki experiences the phrase as a spark to powder keg. he possesses a high-energy, almost frantic nature, and good boy is the only thing that can truly center him—by completely overwhelming him.
the moment he hears it, his energy shifts from chaotic to focused, laser-beaming all his attention onto you. it triggers a visceral, physical hunger; his pupils dilate, and he begins to pant, his cock leaking as he instinctively seeks you.
for taki, the phrase is a reward that fuels his stamina. it pushes him into a state of hyper-responsiveness where he will do anything—no matter how degrading or exhausting—just to hear the words again. he becomes a whirlwind of activity, sucking, licking, and rubbing himself against his beautiful princess with a manic, desperate eagerness.
maki processes good boy as a total collapse of his ego. he often presents himself with a certain level of confidence or detachment, but the phrase acts like a physical blow that knocks him off his feet. it is the ultimate "off-switch" for his pride.
when he's called a good boy, he doesn't just submit, he dissolves. his muscles go slack, his gaze becomes glazed and vacant, and he sinks into a state of heavy, drugged-like arousal. for maki, the phrase is a permission slip to stop pretending and simply be a toy.
he becomes incredibly passive and receptive, his body opening up instinctively. whether it's his mouth working relentlessly as you ride his face or his ass relaxing to take a thick plug, maki becomes a mindless vessel of pleasure, his only goal being to remain in that state of praised, mindless oblivion.
