𓍯nana𓂃

⋆˚࿔ OT7 :

walking on water

⋆˚࿔ 양정원 yang jungwon :

between desire and doubt 1 2 3 (upcoming)

rough sex w won [request]

cockwarming w won [request]

⋆˚࿔ 이희승 lee heeseung :

three rounds to ruin me

late night glitch

⋆˚࿔ 박종성 park jongseong :

i wanna kiss a kitty

⋆˚࿔ 심재윤 Sim jaeyun :

under the surface

⋆˚࿔ 박성훈 park sunghoon :

just once, noona

⋆˚࿔ 김선우 kim sunoo : nothing yet

⋆˚࿔ 西村力 nishimura riki :

tastes like pocky

© thedevillsmaid

Jungwon didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. His eyes did the talking—dark, slow-burning, heavy-lidded with the kind of intent that made your thighs press tight just from the heat of his stare. He walked over like the room belonged to him. Like you belonged to him. And he stopped just close enough for you to feel the heat rolling off him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured, voice low, rich, teasing.

Your fingers were already reaching, uninvited, grazing the slope of his arm—taut, smooth, perfect. He let you. No—he wanted it. His lips curled with that wicked smirk, and he leaned in, chest brushing yours, breath ghosting over your cheek.

“You want these arms wrapped around you,” he whispered, mouth dangerously close to your ear. “Want me holding you down, don’t you?”

You nodded, barely. Didn’t even realize it.

He grinned, then shoved you—gently but firm—back against the bed. You gasped, the shock of his strength sending adrenaline straight between your legs. He climbed on after you, straddling your hips, arms braced on either side of your head, biceps flexing just to taunt. His cock was hard, thick, heavy even through his pants, and it settled against your belly like a threat you were aching to answer.

“You like looking?” he said, grinding just a little, just enough to draw a whimper. “Then keep your eyes open, baby.”

You reached for him. Tore his shirt up and over, needing to see, to feel. His skin burned under your hands, golden and tight over perfect muscle—abs twitching as your palms skimmed down. You couldn’t help it. You licked up the middle of his chest, slow, tasting the salt and heat of him, nipping gently at the edge of his collarbone just to hear the sharp intake of breath it earned.

“Mmm. Greedy,” he muttered, rutting forward. “I like that.”

His mouth crashed into yours, wet and deep, tongue fucking into you like he was trying to brand you from the inside. His hips followed suit, grinding down again and again, slow and delicious—no rush, just pressure. Teasing. Driving you crazy.

You gasped as he bit your lip, then kissed it better, then went lower—dragging his mouth down your throat, your chest, pulling your shirt up as he went. His hands slid behind you to unhook your bra, and once it was off, he didn’t waste a second. His mouth found your nipple, sucking hard, then soft, swirling his tongue around it while his fingers pinched the other, playing you like he’d rehearsed your body for years.

You were moaning nonstop now, grinding up against him, desperate for more, for faster. He didn’t give it to you. He pulled back instead, admiring his work—your flushed skin, your heaving chest, the mess of your hair on the sheets.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he said, fingers slipping down between your thighs, pressing through the fabric. “You’ve been dripping since I walked in, haven’t you?”

You nodded frantically, back arching when he rubbed slow circles, the friction maddening through your panties. His lips hovered over your ear as he teased.

“Say it. Say what you want.”

You shivered, breath catching. “I want… I want you to fill me.”

“Oh, baby,” he chuckled, hot and dark. “That’s coming. But first…”

His fingers hooked your panties to the side, not even bothering to take them off. He slipped one thick finger into your soaked heat and you keened, clinging to his shoulders, nails digging in. Then a second finger, stretching you wider, curling just right, and that smirk deepened when your hips started chasing the motion, need dripping down his knuckles.

You could feel the bulge of his cock pressing into your thigh now—throbbing, angry, desperate for the same attention he was giving you. But he wasn’t done teasing yet. He slid down, spreading your thighs with his strong hands and burying his face in your pussy like it was the only thing that mattered. His tongue lapped at your clit, soft and slow, then fast and ruthless, alternating until you were bucking, gasping his name like it was the only word you remembered.

“Wanna come for me?” he growled into your heat, tongue dipping inside before he sucked your clit hard. “Then beg.”

“Please,” you moaned, wrecked, thighs trembling. “Please, Jungwon, I need it—I’m so close—”

He groaned like your desperation turned him on more than anything, and he doubled down—tongue flicking rapid, two fingers still fucking you deep and steady until your whole body tensed, then shattered around him, your scream echoing as you came hard, clenching tight and soaking his mouth.

He licked you clean like it was nothing. Like he could’ve done it all night.

Then he slid back up, eyes dark and glazed, chest heaving. He kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, then settled his weight on top of you—thick cock pressing right between your folds, hot and aching.

He rocked his hips once, dragging the head of it through your slick folds, teasing your entrance, not pushing in. Just… nestling.

You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively. Your breath hitched.

His didn’t.

He exhaled slow—relaxed, heavy, completely in control—as he settled deeper into you, grinding gently, heat radiating between your bodies.

And that’s when you felt it. The way his cock pulsed against your walls, hot, thick, right there, and not moving. Not yet.

He licked your cheek. Smiled down at you.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

You wake up wrapped in warmth and the scent of Jungwon—spice, skin, the faintest hint of fabric softener and sweat. His arms are still around you, one hand curled under your breast, the other resting low on your waist like he owns every inch of you now. And maybe… he does.

Your legs are tangled with his under the sheets, still sore from the way he’d held you open last night, fucked you slow and deep like he had all the time in the world to ruin you. And he had. You were still wet just remembering the way he said your name as he came inside you.

You turn slightly, enough to see his face—eyes still closed, lashes brushing his cheek, lips parted just enough to breathe soft against your collarbone.

Your hand slides across his chest, fingers drifting over the slope of his shoulder, the tight curve of his bicep. He stirs.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice low, still rough with sleep.

“Morning,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss his neck. “You sleep okay?”

He hums. “Best sleep I’ve had. Ever.”

You smile against his skin, your leg shifting slightly—just enough to feel the hard press of him against your thigh.

Oh.

“Jungwon,” you whisper, eyes flicking up to meet his, “are you hard already?”

He smirks, eyes still half-lidded. “Can you blame me? You’re naked. And you’re mine now.”

His hand slides down, fingers parting your thighs lazily.

“You’re wet again, noona.”

You blush, but don’t move. “Maybe I’m just thinking about last night.”

His gaze sharpens, like a switch flipping behind those warm brown eyes. “Yeah?” He rolls over you in one smooth motion, pinning you beneath him, his cock hard and resting against your entrance. “Then let me remind you.”

You gasp as he grinds against you, not entering yet—just pressing his length along your folds, teasing, warming you up all over again.

You reach down between your bodies, wrap your hand around him, and start stroking slow, deliberate, eyes locked with his. “What if I make you beg a little first?”

He groans, hips bucking into your touch. “You want control now?”

“Maybe,” you whisper, shifting under him and pushing him onto his back instead. “You’re always teasing me, Jungwon. It’s only fair I get to return the favor.”

You straddle his hips, take him in your hand again, and guide the tip right to your entrance—but don’t sink down. Not yet.

His head falls back, throat tight. “Noona…”

You smirk. “You can wait, right?”

He grabs your hips, grinding you down so the length of him slides through your slick folds again. “You think I won’t flip you over and fuck you until you scream my name?”

You bite your lip, finally lowering yourself—inch by inch—until he’s buried inside you.

He chokes on a moan. “Fucking hell…”

You roll your hips slowly, letting him feel every drag, every clench. His hands grip you harder, but he lets you move at your pace.

“You feel so good,” he groans. “So warm… tight… like you were made for me.”

You lean forward, press your forehead to his. “Maybe I was.”

His hands slide up your back, tugging your hair gently to expose your throat. He kisses you there, then your jaw, then your lips.

“I love you,” he breathes.

You ride him faster, harder now, chasing that heat building inside you again. “I love you too, Jungwon…”

His hands drop to your ass, guiding your rhythm, his hips thrusting up to meet each bounce.

“Come on me again,” he growls. “I want to feel you lose it on my cock.”

You do.

You cry out, body convulsing, walls tightening around him as your orgasm crashes into you. Jungwon’s mouth is on your neck, biting softly, hips jerking as he spills inside you with a low, desperate groan.

You collapse against his chest, breathless, trembling, sated.

He holds you for a long moment, just breathing you in.

“Still not over last night,” he mutters. “Or this morning.”

You giggle. “You’re insatiable.”

He grins, flipping you under the blanket again. “Only when it comes to you.”

I kick off my shoes and stretch my tired legs, my back aching from hours of studying for a chemistry exam. The apartment is quiet, save for the hum of the fridge and the faint sound of the TV. I’m exhausted, running on little sleep and caffeine, but when I step into the living room, I freeze.

Sunghoon is sitting on the couch, his usual smirk plastered on his face as he watches TV. He’s dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair tousled from the day. But something about him feels... different. The way his eyes flicker to me, the way his lips curl into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You’re back late,” he says, his voice low and smooth, far different from his usual teasing tone.

I glance at him, my exhaustion giving way to something else — something sharp and unnameable. “You couldn’t survive without me, huh?”

He chuckles, but it’s not his usual carefree laugh. There’s something more in it now, something dangerous. “I don’t need you to survive,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I need you to be here... with me.”

My pulse spikes. I turn to look at him, and our eyes meet. His smirk is still there, but it’s not playful anymore. It’s hungry.

“Noona,” he repeats, his voice so quiet, so earnest that I can’t ignore the way my heart skips a beat. “You know what I mean.”

Before I can even think of a response, he’s standing, crossing the room in three long strides. He’s close now, too close, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

“You’re... you’re drunk,” I say, trying to laugh it off, but even my voice betrays the uncertainty that’s been growing inside me for months now.

He leans in, his fingers curling around my wrist. “I’m not drunk,” he says, his voice steady. “I’m sober enough to know what I want, noona.”

My breath hitches. I’ve wanted this — or at least thought about it — but I never thought it would happen like this.

But Sunghoon isn’t backing down. His hand moves to the back of my neck, his fingers curling into my hair, gently pulling me forward. His lips are on mine before I can protest. The kiss is hungry, demanding, and the way he presses me back against the counter makes me gasp.

I try to push him away, but his grip is firm. “Sunghoon,” I whisper, but it comes out almost like a plea.

He pulls away just enough to look me in the eyes, his expression darker now. “Say it again. Say my name, noona.”

I swallow hard, his presence overwhelming. I try to step back, but he’s not letting me. “Sunghoon, this—”

He kisses me again, cutting off my words. This time, his kiss is softer, more insistent. His hands roam my sides, pushing my shirt up slightly as he moves lower. His fingers graze the waistband of my jeans, making my body react before my mind can catch up.

"Don't think about it," he murmurs against my lips. "Just feel it."

I know I should stop this — that crossing this line would change everything. We’ve been living together for so long, and what if things get awkward? But in this moment, as he presses his body against mine and murmurs noona like it means something deeper, I can’t bring myself to pull away.

The kiss deepens, and Sunghoon’s hands move to my hips, pushing me closer. I gasp as I feel him — the heat between us unbearable now. His hands slide to the zipper of my jeans, his fingers brushing against my skin, and I can’t stop myself from reacting.

"Sunghoon," I breathe, but this time it’s more like an invitation than a protest. His eyes flash — the playful, teasing boy I’ve known now replaced with someone far more intense.

He moves fast now, almost desperate. His lips trail down my neck, sucking lightly on the soft skin just below my ear, and I can’t help the way my body reacts to him.

"Noona," he says, his voice low and full of promise. "I've wanted this for so long... wanted you."

I hesitate, just for a moment, feeling the heat rise in my chest. I know this is wrong — knows that after this, things might never be the same. But I also know that we’ve been dancing around this for months, and tonight... tonight I can’t fight it anymore.

With a final glance at him, I whisper, "Okay."

Sunghoon’s eyes darken with desire at my soft consent, and he doesn’t waste any time. He kisses me again, more demanding this time, his tongue delving into my mouth. His hands are everywhere, roaming over my body as if he’s trying to commit every inch to memory.

"Noona," he breathes against my lips, "you have no idea how long I've wanted this... wanted you."

He tugs my shirt over my head in one smooth motion, and I shiver as the cool air hits my skin. My nipples harden beneath the thin fabric of my bra. Sunghoon takes a step back, his gaze roaming over my body appreciatively.

"You're so beautiful," he says, his voice low and full of want. "I've seen you naked in my dreams, noona."

I blush, feeling a thrill of excitement at his words. I reach for his hoodie, tugging it off over his head, and let out a small gasp as I see his bare chest. He’s toned, with just the right amount of muscle, and I can’t resist running my hands over his skin.

Sunghoon groans at my touch, his hips jerking forward slightly. I can feel the hard bulge of his erection pressing against me, and it makes my own desire surge.

"Noona," he says again, his voice strained. "I need you... I need to be inside you."

He reaches for the button of my jeans, popping it open and sliding the zipper down. I lift my hips, helping him tug them down along with my underwear. I’m bare now, completely exposed to him, and I can see the hunger in his eyes.

Sunghoon takes a moment to look at me, his gaze hot and intense. "You're perfect," he says, his hand trailing down my stomach, his fingers brushing against my most sensitive spot. I gasp, my body jerking at the contact.

He kisses me again, his fingers exploring my folds, teasing my clit. I’m wet, soaking wet, and I can feel how much he wants me. His cock is straining against his sweatpants, and I reach down to palm him through the fabric.

Sunghoon curses, his hips bucking into my touch. "Noona, please," he begs, his voice strained. "I need you now."

He reaches for his sweatpants, tugging them down along with his boxers. His cock springs free, long and thick and already leaking at the tip. I lick my lips, feeling a surge of desire at the sight of him.

Sunghoon reaches for me, lifting me up onto the counter. He spreads my legs, settling between them, and I can feel the heat of his body pressing against mine.

"Tell me you want this," he says, his voice low and rough. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," I breathe, looking into his eyes. "I want you so badly, Sunghoon."

He grins, a flash of his usual smirk before he leans down to kiss me again. I can feel the tip of his cock pressing against my entrance, and I arch my back, trying to take him inside.

Sunghoon enters me slowly, inch by inch, letting me feel every bit of him. I’m tight, so tight around him, and he groans as he bottoms out.

"You feel so good," he says, his voice strained. "So perfect."

He starts to move then, slow and deep thrusts that make me moan with pleasure. I cling to him, my nails digging into his shoulders as he fills me again and again.

"Sunghoon," I gasp, feeling the pleasure building inside me. "Don’t stop... please don’t stop."

He doesn’t. He keeps moving, kept going by my soft moans and cries of pleasure. The room is filled with the sound of our bodies coming together, the wet slap of skin on skin.

I can feel the tension coiling inside me, tighter and tighter with each thrust. Sunghoon leans down to kiss me, swallowing my moans as he drives into me harder.

"Come for me, noona," he murmurs against my lips. "Let me feel you come."

It’s all it takes. My orgasm crashes over me, intense and overwhelming. I clench around him, milking his cock as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me.

Sunghoon follows right after, his body tensing as he spills inside me with a low groan. He stays there for a moment, buried deep as we both catch our breath.

When he finally pulls out, I feel empty, somehow. I look up at him, taking in the sight of his naked body, still flushed from our lovemaking.

"Wow," I breathe, a small smile on my face. "That was... intense."

Sunghoon chuckles, leaning down to kiss me softly. "It was incredible," he says, his eyes warm. "And it’s only the beginning, noona."

He helps me down from the counter, leading me toward the bedroom. I can feel the heat of his skin against mine, and I know that this is only the start of something new between us.

As we climb into bed together, I feel a sense of contentment wash over me. I know that things will be different now, that our relationship has shifted in a way that can’t be undone. But for now, all I want is to be in Sunghoon’s arms, to feel the warmth of his body against mine as we drift off to sleep.

It’s a new chapter for us, a new beginning. And I can’t wait to see where it will take us.

He was standing near the wall, arms crossed, eyes locked on you.

You were talking to Sunghoon. Just talking. He made a joke, something dumb, and you laughed. His hand brushed your waist. It was innocent—maybe. But when you looked back across the room, Jungwon’s jaw was tight. His eyes dark. You knew that look. That was not the leader smile he showed cameras.

That was the “you’re mine” look.

You didn’t wait long. Slipped away from the crowd, heart racing, heat building under your skin. You didn’t make it far down the hallway before a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you fast into one of the empty rooms. The door slammed behind you. Locked.

Jungwon’s body pressed against yours before you could say a word.

“You liked that?” he asked, voice low and rough in your ear. “Him touching you?”

Your back hit the wall. Not hard—just enough to feel it. His hand slid up, thumb brushing your neck. You gasped.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” you said, breath shaky.

“You were smiling at him.”

His mouth crashed onto yours—hot, messy, desperate. His kiss wasn’t soft. It was hungry. His hands grabbed at your hips, tugging you closer, grinding against you. Your legs parted on instinct. You could already feel how hard he was, pressing right there between your thighs.

He pulled back just long enough to yank your skirt up. Fingers slid down, finding you soaked already.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You like when I get jealous, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

His belt came undone with a sharp clink. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was pulling himself out and lifting your leg around his waist. One deep push, and he was inside.

You cried out, gripping his shoulders. He filled you up fast, thick and deep, no pause, no mercy. He didn’t ease in. He claimed.

“Mine,” he growled, thrusting hard, making the wall behind you shake. “Say it.”

“Yours,” you gasped, over and over, lost in it.

His rhythm was rough, fast, almost punishing. Every stroke hit the right spot. His hips slapped against yours, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. One hand held your leg tight, the other slid down to rub fast circles on your clit.

You were already close.

“Jungwon—”

“Cum for me,” he said, voice strained, lips on your neck. “Now.”

And you did. Your whole body shook, moaning his name, clenching around him so tight he cursed. He pushed in deep, stayed there, and groaned as he spilled inside you, warm and thick.

For a second, everything went quiet.

Then his forehead rested on yours, breath heavy.

“Next time he touches you,” he said, low and serious, “I’ll fuck you where he can hear it.”

The sound of the doorbell didn’t even finish echoing before I was kicking off my sneakers in Ni-ki’s hallway, the familiar scent of laundry detergent and whatever cologne he’d started wearing since he turned twenty chasing around my nostrils like a tease. I’d been here a hundred times before. Sleepovers, school projects, anime binges where he’d end up passed out and I’d steal the last Pocky. Nothing new.

Except everything felt new lately.

Maybe it was the way he looked at me now—longer, deeper, like I was hiding a secret in the dip of my waist. Or maybe it was that night three days ago, when I’d forgotten my phone at his place and walked right in through the back door.

And saw him.

His door cracked just wide enough. My name—soft, almost reverent—barely floated past his lips while his hand stroked himself slow, needy, hips twitching. I should’ve left. I should’ve looked away.

But I didn’t.

“Yo,” Ni-ki called from the top of the stairs, breaking my daze. His voice—deeper than it used to be—still carried that boyish lilt when he was comfortable. Like he always was with me.

“Hey, anime nerd,” I teased, climbing up. The baggy jeans swished around my hips, dragging low enough to show off the silver belly ring I’d gotten impulsively at twenty. The crop top I wore barely held to my chest, the hem lifting just enough with each step that I caught his gaze dipping. Caught it and didn’t let it go.

His room was the same as always. Posters, LED lights, and that big-ass beanbag I always claimed before he could. I flopped onto it with a bounce, legs splayed lazily, and caught the flush rising to his cheeks as he sat on the edge of his bed—just close enough to smell the sweet vanilla lotion I always wore.

“So, what are we watching?” I asked, like I hadn’t noticed the way he shifted, the way his thighs tensed.

“Uh, Chainsaw Man?”

He wasn’t even looking at the screen when he loaded it up. No, his eyes kept flicking—to the bare line of skin where my jeans dipped too low, to the slight bounce of my chest when I shifted, to the glint of silver at my belly. He was trying so hard to keep it cool. Too hard.

And then I saw it.

The bulge. Clear. Growing. Tentative.

I smirked.

“You okay over there?” I asked, feigning innocence.

He froze. “Y-yeah. Just tired.”

“Right.” I leaned forward, slow, letting my top slide just an inch more up my ribs. “Not like the other night, though. You didn’t look tired at all.”

Ni-ki’s head jerked toward me, eyes wide, panic rising in his throat.

“I—I didn’t mean for—”

“You didn’t close the door,” I interrupted, licking my bottom lip. “You were saying my name.”

His face burned red. He looked like he was trying to sink into the mattress, to disappear. But his cock said otherwise, twitching harder under his sweats.

“You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” I purred, crawling forward on my knees now, closing the space between us. “Since when, Riki?”

He swallowed hard, voice cracking. “Seventeen.”

That made me pause. I blinked. He’d been in love with me since then? When I still had braces and thought kissing was gross?

“You never said anything.”

“You never noticed,” he said, barely above a whisper.

God, his eyes—dilated, pleading, full of something hot and helpless. I sat between his legs now, fingers teasing at the waistband of his pants.

“I noticed now,” I whispered, and tugged.

His cock sprang free, hard and flushed and twitching. My lips parted on instinct. It was beautiful. Lean, pink at the tip, a drop of precum already sliding down the shaft.

“You were jerking off to me…” I murmured, wrapping my hand around it gently. “You didn’t think I’d want it back?”

He whimpered when I stroked—just once. Eyes fluttering shut. His hand found my wrist, holding, not stopping me, just grounding.

“This… this is your first time?” I asked, quietly.

He nodded.

“Mine too,” I breathed, meeting his gaze.

And then I straddled his lap.

His breath hitched as I rubbed against him through my jeans, grinding slowly. The friction was sharp, perfect, the heat between us already slick.

“Tell me you want me,” I said.

“I want you,” he moaned, hands gripping my hips like he might die without me.

I undid my jeans, slow, torturous, watching his eyes trace every inch of skin I revealed. The curve of my thighs, the glint of my piercing. My top was next—lifted and tossed aside, my breasts bouncing free.

He stared like he’d found religion.

“You can touch,” I whispered, guiding his hands up, over the swell of my breasts, the stiffness of my nipples. “It’s okay.”

And it was okay. It was perfect. Because the moment I sank down on him—slow, tight, breath shattering between us—we weren’t just best friends anymore.

We were everything.

© thedevillsmaid

Jungwon | Private Onsen in the Mountains

Setting: Late evening, deep in the Japanese mountains. A private onsen shrouded in thick steam and moaning cicadas. The mineral water is hot. The air is cold. And Jungwon’s eyes are starving.

The wooden steps groaned under your bare feet as you stepped into the open air. Cold mountain wind kissed your skin, raising goosebumps on your arms—but the steam from the onsen rolled over you like silk. Thick. Heavy. Almost alive.

You spotted Jungwon already waist-deep in the hot spring, arms outstretched along the edge, head tilted back. The moonlight caught the sharp line of his throat, jawline glistening with droplets. His eyes opened slowly, locking onto you like a predator spotting prey.

“Finally,” he said, voice low, already thick with heat. “Took you long enough.”

Your bikini clung to your curves with every movement, the thin straps digging in just right. You stepped down into the water, inch by inch, hissing as the heat licked up your calves, then thighs. Jungwon watched you like he couldn’t blink. When the water reached your hips, you paused, heart thudding.

He didn’t move. Just waited.

Then, finally, you lowered the rest of your body in, sitting across from him.

“You gonna come closer or sit over there pretending you’re shy?” he asked, tone teasing but eyes sharp.

You met his gaze and slid through the water—closer, closer—until your knees touched his. The heat wasn’t just from the spring anymore. It pulsed beneath your skin. Between your legs. In every inhale that tasted like steam and him.

His fingers reached for your wrist, guiding your hand to his thigh under the water. He was already hard.

“I’ve been like this since you said onsen.”

You bit your lip, heart slamming, as your fingers brushed up his inner thigh. He hissed, jaw clenching.

“You like the view?” you whispered, smirking.

“You have no fucking idea.”

The mist curled around you both like a curtain, shielding the rest of the world. His hands slid along your waist, thumbs dragging under the water. You moved closer, straddling his lap slowly, your knees digging into the rocky seat as his cock pressed up against the fabric of your bikini bottoms—thick, heavy, pulsing.

No towels. No barriers. Just thin soaked fabric and want.

Jungwon’s lips ghosted over your neck, mouth warm and wet. His hands smoothed down your back, then slipped beneath your bikini top, cupping your breasts, thumbing your nipples until they stiffened.

“You’re so soft here,” he murmured. “So fuckable.”

Your hips rolled against him involuntarily, making both of you gasp. His cock throbbed against you, and you reached between your bodies, fingers curling around him under the water. He groaned into your mouth when you stroked—slowly, then faster. You traced the veins, teased the head with your thumb, your wrist flicking just right. His head fell back.

“You wanna be in me,” you whispered, lips brushing his jaw.

“I want to wreck you,” he growled.

He grabbed your ass with both hands, lifting you just enough to align. The fabric was yanked aside, your bikini bottoms tugged roughly to the side by his fingers, and then—

He slid in.

Thick, slow, stretching you inch by inch as the water rippled around you both.

The heat of him inside you was blinding. You buried your face in his neck, teeth scraping skin as you adjusted to the feeling—full, tight, deliciously overwhelmed. His hands didn’t stop moving—up your back, into your hair, gripping your hips as he started to move.

Slow.

Deep.

Each stroke was a punishment and a gift. The sound of water sloshing mixed with breathy gasps, moans, skin hitting skin under the steam. Jungwon fucked like he wanted to leave a mark on your soul. Like every thrust was a signature on your body.

You rolled your hips, grinding down, and he cursed hard, gripping you tighter.

“That’s it,” he whispered, teeth at your earlobe. “Fuck yourself on me, baby. Take all of it.”

And you did.

You rode him, water splashing against rock, steam clinging to your skin. His cock hit every spot inside you just right—every thrust making your vision blur. He played with your clit under the water, fingers fast, relentless.

When your orgasm hit, it was violent.

You clenched around him, back arching, a cry tearing from your throat that echoed off the mountains. He fucked you through it, growling, fucking harder—until he suddenly pulled out and came all over your stomach, hot and thick, groaning your name into the steam.

You collapsed against his chest, shaking, water lapping at your skin.

He stroked your back as you came down, lazy and warm. Then he kissed your shoulder and whispered, “We’re not done. The moon’s still out.”

Heeseung | Rain Shower in a Penthouse Suite

Setting: High-rise penthouse suite. The shower is all glass, wide open, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. Outside, rain streaks the glass like tears. Inside, he’s about to make you forget how to breathe.

The water poured from above like rain, hot and steady, soaking your hair and skin. You stood still for a moment under the rainfall showerhead, hands braced against the cool tile, letting the heat wash away the tension in your shoulders. It was late, past midnight, the city outside glowing like a circuit board—cold blue and violet light flickering through the full-length windows.

And then you felt him.

Heeseung’s presence behind you—close, confident. You didn’t even hear him come in, but now his body heat licked your spine through the rising steam. A whisper of breath at your neck.

“You look so fucking good like that,” he murmured.

You turned slightly, the strap of your bikini sliding off your shoulder. Heeseung’s eyes dropped immediately, fixated. He was shirtless, damp already, swim trunks low on his hips and clinging to every line of muscle. His hair was wet, dark and tousled, drops sliding down his jaw.

“Is this how you imagined it?” you teased, voice quiet.

His hand touched the small of your back. “No,” he said. “This is better.”

He stepped closer, chest brushing your back, one hand sliding up your arm with an almost reverent slowness. You could feel his breath on your neck, his nose grazing your skin. The rain from the shower soaked you both, water running in rivulets between your bodies.

His hand reached around, fingers splaying over your stomach. Slowly. Purposefully.

“You get shy when people look at you,” he whispered in your ear, voice low and rough. “But right now you want me to see everything, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard, nodding. His fingers slipped down, brushing the waist of your bikini bottoms.

“I want you to say it.”

You hesitated, breath catching. “I want you to see me.”

“Mmm.” His hand dipped lower. “Good girl.”

He peeled the soaked bikini from your hips with both hands, letting it drop to your feet. His mouth kissed down your spine, slow and wet, until he knelt behind you. You felt his hands spread you apart—bare, dripping, exposed to the open glass and glowing city lights.

He didn’t touch you there.

Not yet.

He just breathed.

“Fuck,” he said. “You’re already so wet. You need me, huh?”

“Yes,” you gasped.

He stood, slowly, the shift of his body up your back maddening. You reached behind, grabbing his wrist, guiding his hand between your thighs. His fingers slipped through your slick folds, circling your clit, teasing your entrance.

You moaned, forehead pressed to the glass. It was cold, but you burned.

He kissed your shoulder, bit your neck.

“I want you to feel everything,” he said. “The water. The window. Me.”

You felt his fingers curl inside you, slow and firm. His other hand reached up, bracing on the glass next to yours, boxing you in. His hips pressed forward, his cock hard against your ass through his trunks.

“Can I?” he asked, voice strained.

“Take them off.”

The trunks were gone in seconds. You felt him line up behind you—thick, already twitching—and then he was pushing in, slow, deep, dragging a groan from both of you.

Your eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, Heeseung—”

“I got you,” he whispered, lips at your ear.

He fucked you against the glass. Long, slow strokes that hit deep, grinding at the end of every thrust like he wanted to feel you shatter. The water ran between your bodies, down your thighs, making everything slick and obscene.

His hand wrapped around your throat—firm, possessive.

“Look outside,” he whispered. “Let them watch you come.”

You opened your eyes.

Rain painted the skyline in streaks of light. Your reflection glared back at you—wet hair, flushed cheeks, parted lips as Heeseung fucked you hard from behind. You could see the way his hips snapped, the muscles in his arms flexing as he held you in place. The way your tits bounced with every thrust.

You wanted to scream.

You pressed back into him harder, grinding, chasing the orgasm building like thunder in your spine. His other hand slipped around to rub your clit—fast, tight circles—and you broke.

Your legs shook. The glass fogged up. You came with a moan that echoed against tile and sky, trembling in his arms as he fucked you through it, lips at your ear, voice rough and shaking.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl.”

Then he cursed—deep and desperate—and pulled out just enough to come against your lower back, hips jerking, thick ropes spilling hot onto your skin as the shower washed it away.

You both collapsed to the floor of the shower, steam curling around your bodies. His arms wrapped around you from behind, holding you close, lips on your shoulder.

The rain kept falling.

The city kept watching.

You didn’t care.

Jay | Luxury Hotel Jacuzzi

Setting: Late night, rooftop suite. The jacuzzi is sunken into marble, surrounded by glass and gold, with champagne chilling nearby. The stars are out. The bubbles are high. And Jay? He’s sitting there, spread wide, watching you like you’re dessert.

The air was warm with a hint of champagne and night breeze, the rooftop city view glittering beneath you like spilled diamonds. The jacuzzi gurgled softly, hot bubbles fizzing to the surface in lazy, rhythmic pulses.

Jay sat in the water like he owned the entire hotel. And maybe he did.

One arm draped along the edge, the other holding a champagne flute, legs spread under the water just enough to be disrespectful. His black swim trunks clung to him like a second skin, soaked and outlining the thick shape beneath. The lights under the water turned the bubbles golden around him.

His eyes were already on you as you stepped out onto the marble.

Bikini, tiny, black. Skin glowing. Your hair was slightly damp from the shower. You walked toward him with a sway in your hips that wasn’t entirely innocent, and Jay’s lips curled like he knew exactly what you were doing.

“You took your time,” he said.

You stepped into the jacuzzi slowly, one foot after another, the hot water lapping up your calves, thighs, hips. You slid in with a little shiver, breath catching at the warmth.

Jay’s eyes dropped immediately to your chest. Bubbles clung to your skin, gathering between your breasts. You sank down until the water kissed your collarbones, settling across from him.

“I wanted to make sure you were thirsty,” you said.

He raised the champagne to his lips, sipping slow. His throat moved as he swallowed, and then he set the flute down with a soft clink.

“Oh, I am,” he said. “But not for this.”

Your foot brushed his leg under the water.

Then his thigh.

Then his cock.

Hard already.

You smirked. “I didn’t even touch you.”

“Baby,” he said, leaning forward, voice low and deep, “you’ve been touching me since you walked in that bikini.”

You crawled across the water toward him, bubbles fizzing around your thighs, arms slipping around his neck as you settled into his lap. His hands found your waist instantly, gripping like he’d been starving for it.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel perfect.”

His cock pulsed against your core, only the thin layers of wet fabric separating you now. You shifted your hips—grinding—slow and taunting, making his breath hitch.

His hand grabbed your ass, hard. The other snaked up your spine, fingers threading into your hair.

“You keep doing that and I’m gonna fuck you right here, with the whole fucking city watching.”

You leaned in, your lips ghosting over his. “Do it.”

Jay’s eyes locked with yours.

And that was it.

He kissed you like he was claiming territory—tongue deep, teeth grazing, lips devouring. You gasped into his mouth as he rolled his hips up into you, cock grinding against your folds under the water. You rocked against him, pace matching the rise and fall of the bubbles.

“Take these off,” he growled, yanking at your bikini bottoms.

You obeyed.

He didn’t wait.

He pulled the waistband of his swim trunks down, just enough. And then he grabbed your hips and guided you down—onto him.

You moaned, loud, as he filled you in one slow, slick thrust. The water surged around you. His cock stretched you just right—thick, pulsing, deep.

“Eyes on me,” he said, voice low and wrecked.

You looked at him.

And fuck, it made your walls clench. His stare was molten, unreadable, full of restraint and possession.

“Look how good you take me,” he whispered. “So fucking tight.”

You rolled your hips, grinding in slow circles. He hissed through his teeth, fingers digging into your skin. He pulled your bikini top down, freeing your breasts, watching them bounce as you rode him.

“Fuck. Look at these.” He cupped them, thumbs flicking your nipples, voice husky. “You wanna come just from this? From being so full?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “God, Jay—yes.”

“Then ride it, baby. Come on. Ride this dick.”

You moved faster.

Up and down, rocking into him, moaning shamelessly. The water splashed with each motion, wet sounds filling the air between your gasps. His cock dragged in and out, thick veins rubbing your walls, tip hitting the perfect spot inside.

His mouth was everywhere—neck, collarbone, sucking your nipples between teeth, groaning against your skin.

You couldn’t hold it anymore.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, legs shaking, voice breaking as you came on him, walls spasming tight. Jay held you through it, biting your shoulder, grinding slow and deep as you shook.

Then his hands gripped your hips, and he fucked up into you hard.

Once. Twice. Three sharp thrusts—then he came, hot and thick, deep inside, voice low and broken against your throat.

You collapsed against him, chests heaving together in the bubbling water.

He kissed your cheek. “Next time,” he whispered, “we’re doing it on the edge of the tub.”

Ohhh yes.

Jake | Beach at Night

Setting: Midnight. A secluded private beach, moon glowing high, waves crashing just feet away. You’re walking barefoot in your bikini, and Jake’s right behind you—eyes low, voice deeper, hungry. The sand is warm, the air sticky, and your patience? Gone.

The sand was still warm from the day, clinging to your feet as you stepped off the wooden path. Wind whipped your hair around your face, cool with salt and ocean mist. The sound of the waves was constant—loud, rhythmic, endless.

And Jake was behind you.

He’d followed you down without a word, barefoot in nothing but his loose black swim trunks, a towel slung over one shoulder, that damn look in his eyes.

You stopped near the edge of the water. The sea foam reached for your ankles like fingers.

“You okay?” you asked, glancing back.

His answer was a smile. Slow. Sharp.

“I’m great,” he said. “But you’re killing me in that bikini.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve seen it all day.”

“Exactly.” His voice dipped. “And I’ve been hard all day.”

Your breath caught.

He dropped the towel.

Then stepped right into you.

His hands slid to your hips, fingers brushing the knot of your bikini bottoms, thumbs teasing just under the fabric. His eyes roamed your face, your lips, your chest, like he was still debating whether to worship or devour.

“You walk ahead of me on purpose, huh?” he murmured. “Swishing that little ass. Pretending you don’t know I’m about to lose it.”

You smirked. “You say that like you didn’t stare the entire way.”

“I always stare.”

His mouth met yours before you could sass back—warm, sweet, but needy. Tongue sliding past your lips, hands grabbing your ass, grinding his hips forward until you could feel just how hard he really was.

You whimpered into his mouth.

The waves crashed nearby, but your body drowned in him.

“Lie down,” he said, tugging you toward the sand.

You hesitated. “Here?”

He just raised an eyebrow. “Scared?”

You dropped like a challenge.

The sand was soft. The night wrapped around you like heat. Jake knelt between your thighs, eyes locked on yours as he untied your bikini bottoms—slowly. Like he was unwrapping a gift.

He tossed them behind him. His fingers slid up your thighs, spreading them open until the ocean breeze kissed your bare pussy.

“Fucking perfect,” he muttered.

Then he bent down.

His mouth on you was heaven.

Hot. Wet. Starving.

He licked slow at first, tasting every inch, then locked onto your clit and sucked. Hard.

Your back arched. You grabbed his hair, moaning, grinding up into his face as his tongue pushed inside you, his hands keeping you open. The ocean roared behind him, but all you could hear was your own breathy gasps.

He pulled back only when your thighs started shaking.

“Not yet,” he said, crawling up your body. “I wanna come with you.”

You grabbed at his trunks. He helped, yanking them down, cock springing free—thick, flushed, dripping at the tip.

You both groaned as he lined up, teasing your entrance.

“Ready?”

You nodded.

Then he pushed in.

Slow.

The stretch made your breath catch, your legs wrapping around his waist as he filled you inch by inch.

“Jake—fuck—”

“You feel so good,” he groaned. “So fucking wet already.”

He didn’t give you time to adjust. He started thrusting—deep and slow, hips rolling like the waves, every stroke grinding against your sweet spot. His hands were everywhere—your tits, your waist, your throat. He kissed you hard between moans, tongue messy, hips snapping faster.

The sand shifted beneath you. The stars blurred above.

Your orgasm built fast, dizzying.

“Jake—fuck, I’m close—”

He grabbed your face, forehead pressed to yours. “Look at me when you come.”

You did.

Eyes locked, pussy clenching around him, mouth open in a cry as you came hard—shaking under him, vision gone white.

He fucked you through it, then growled your name as he spilled inside you, cock twitching deep, hot cum flooding your pussy as his hips stuttered.

He collapsed onto you, both of you breathless, waves brushing your toes.

You laughed, gasping. “You’re insane.”

He grinned against your shoulder. “And you’re gonna walk back to the villa with my cum dripping down your legs.”

Sunghoon | Indoor Pool, Low Lights

Setting: A private indoor pool, lights dimmed to dusky blues and shadows, water cool enough to bite. Echoes of your breath bounce off the walls. You’re alone. Just you. And him. And nowhere to run.

The pool was silent.

Empty.

Still.

Only the low hum of underwater lights filled the space, glowing cool blue beneath the surface. Shadows rippled across the tiled walls, and the air smelled of chlorine and something electric.

You stood at the edge, bare feet on the tile, the sleek black bikini hugging your skin like sin. You could feel his eyes on you before you even looked up.

Sunghoon stood waist-deep in the water, arms resting on the edge behind him. Black swim trunks. Hair pushed back. Face unreadable—until you caught that glint in his eye. That flicker of hunger he always tried to hide.

You stepped in, slowly. The water was cold. Sharp.

You hissed as it hit your skin.

Sunghoon smirked.

“Too cold for you?” he asked, voice echoing in the cavernous stillness.

You took another step, the water licking up your thighs. “Not if you warm me up.”

His gaze dropped to your hips. “I could do that.”

By the time you reached him, the water was up to your ribs. You paused in front of him, not touching, heart pounding.

He reached out lazily, dragging one finger up your stomach. You shivered—part chill, part anticipation.

“That bikini’s illegal,” he muttered.

You smirked. “Do something about it.”

And just like that—the switch flipped.

Sunghoon grabbed your waist, yanking you against him with a splash. You landed on his lap, straddling him in the water, your bare thighs bracketing his as his cock pressed thick and unmistakably hard against your soaked bikini bottoms.

“You feel that?” he growled against your neck.

You nodded, grinding your hips forward.

“Fuck,” he hissed, voice tight. “You’re already soaked.”

You leaned back just slightly, letting your breasts rise above the water. His eyes went dark. He cupped one through the fabric, squeezing slow, then tugged the top down with one sharp pull.

Cold air met your nipples. So did his mouth.

He sucked hard—no teasing. No build-up. Just filthy, wet pressure, tongue lapping, teeth scraping. You moaned aloud, back arching into it.

His hand slipped between your legs, under the water, pulling your bottoms to the side. He didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. One finger slid inside you, then two—deep.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, clinging to his shoulders.

“You like being fucked in the water?” he growled. “Like a dirty little secret?”

You clenched around his fingers in response. He grinned, then pushed them deeper, fucking you slow, hard, relentless. The water rippled with every movement.

“I’m gonna ruin you,” he said.

“Then do it,” you whispered.

He didn’t need to hear more. Sunghoon lined up his cock—already bare under his trunks, slick and heavy—and with one sharp thrust, he was inside you.

You cried out, nails raking his back.

He fucked up into you in hard, cold snaps, water splashing around your hips. The chill made every nerve fire like lightning, made his cock feel hotter, thicker, deeper.

“Fuck—fuck, you feel so tight,” he groaned. “So fucking good around me.”

You held on for dear life as he bounced you on his cock, fingers bruising your hips. Your moans echoed off the tile—sharp, desperate, drowning out the splashing water.

His teeth found your neck, biting, marking.

“You gonna come for me?” he demanded. “Come on my cock like a filthy girl?”

“Yes—yes, fuck, Hoon—don’t stop—”

He reached between you, thumb circling your clit with perfect pressure. Fast. Mean. Exactly what you needed.

You came so hard your vision went white.

Your scream hit the ceiling, your pussy clenching like a vice, milking his cock. He cursed violently, then thrust hard—once, twice—and came inside you, thick ropes filling you up as he buried himself deep, holding you down with a growl.

Your legs shook. Your head fell to his shoulder. Water lapped lazily around you, cooling the heat that burned in every inch of your skin.

He kissed your temple.

“Still cold?” he murmured.

You laughed, breathless. “Not even close.”

Sunoo | Scented Bubble Bath, Candlelight

Setting: A massive tub carved into stone, lit only by dozens of flickering candles. The water smells like jasmine and vanilla. Bubbles float over the surface. Sunoo waits inside, back against the curve of the tub, hair pushed back, eyes already dark with intention.

The bathroom glowed gold.

Hundreds of tiny flames flickered in the candlelight—lining the tub, the counters, even the floor. Shadows danced on the marble walls, and the scent of jasmine mixed with the thick steam curling in the air. The bath itself looked like something carved for royalty—deep, wide, with milky, foaming water bubbling gently over smooth stone.

You stepped inside slowly.

Sunoo was already in the bath, half-submerged, hair damp, skin glowing in the golden light. His arms were spread along the edge, legs splayed just wide enough to pull the breath from your lungs.

He looked at you like he’d ordered this moment. Like you were exactly where you belonged.

“I was about to come pull you in,” he said.

You dropped the towel from your hips, the black bikini clinging tight to your skin. “Then I guess I’m lucky I made it in time.”

His smile turned wicked.

“Take those off.”

Your fingers moved without thinking, untying the strings, the soft whisper of wet fabric falling to the floor. You stepped into the water slowly, letting the heat swallow your legs, then thighs, then hips. Bubbles curled around you, hiding nothing from his gaze.

When you reached him, he pulled you into his lap like it was instinct. His hands slid up your back, wet and warm, until your chest was pressed to his. His cock was already hard, throbbing against your core under the water.

“You smell so good,” he murmured, lips brushing your neck. “You always do.”

You rolled your hips forward—slow, teasing—and his breath hitched. He gripped your ass with both hands, squeezing, grinding you down on him harder.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned, voice low.

You grinned. “I always finish.”

His eyes flashed. Then he kissed you.

Not soft. Not gentle.

Sunoo’s kiss was heat and teeth, tongue pushing in like he wanted to taste your soul. His hands tangled in your hair, dragging your head back as he bit your lip, sucked it between his teeth.

You moaned into him, grinding harder, faster.

“Fuck—stop,” he muttered suddenly, pulling back just enough to pant against your mouth.

“Why?”

“Because if I fuck you like this,” he growled, “I’m going to spill before you even scream.”

You swallowed hard.

He gripped your hips and lifted you. One hand grabbed his cock under the water, guiding the thick head to your entrance, and he looked you dead in the eyes.

“Ready?” he asked.

You nodded.

And he dropped you onto him.

You cried out, hands clenching his shoulders, as he filled you—slow, stretching, deep. He stayed there, buried to the hilt, breathing hard against your skin.

Then he snapped his hips.

Once.

Twice.

Fast.

Hard.

You screamed, fingernails raking down his back.

“Fuck—yes,” he hissed. “That’s it. Take it. Take all of it.”

The water splashed over the rim of the tub with every sharp, filthy thrust. Your moans bounced off the stone, echoing between the candles. His cock hit deep, grinding against your sweet spot with punishing precision.

“Touch yourself,” he said. “Rub that clit while I wreck you.”

Your hand slid between your bodies, fingers trembling. You rubbed circles fast, gasping, body starting to tremble. He watched you do it—eyes locked, mouth open, moaning your name as you clenched around him.

“You wanna come, baby?” he growled. “You wanna soak my cock?”

“Please—”

“Then beg for it.”

You sobbed.

“Please, Sunoo—don’t stop—fuck me, please, harder—”

That’s all it took.

He slammed up into you, grip bruising your hips, and your orgasm exploded—so intense you nearly blacked out. You screamed his name, thighs quivering, water thrashing around you as your body convulsed.

Sunoo held you down and fucked you through it, biting your throat, groaning into your skin.

Then he came inside you.

Hot, thick, endless. His cock pulsed deep inside, filling you up as he groaned your name like a prayer and a curse.

You collapsed against him.

The water stilled.

The candles flickered.

His hand stroked your back as he whispered, “You’re mine now, you know that, right?”

You smiled against his skin.

“I always was.”

Ni-ki | Dance Studio Shower Room

Setting: Late night. Everyone else is gone. The studio’s quiet, the locker room lit in low flickering fluorescents. Steam clouds the air from the showers. You’re both sweaty, flushed, and still in your practice clothes. You weren’t supposed to be alone with him.

The music had finally stopped.

The studio was dead quiet, except for your breathing and the dull thump of your heartbeat still echoing in your ears. Your skin was slick with sweat, body trembling from the intensity of the last run-through.

You leaned on the barre, chest rising and falling, when you heard his steps behind you.

Slow.

Controlled.

Predator.

Ni-ki.

You turned your head just enough to see him in the mirror. His shirt was sticking to his chest, hair damp and hanging in his eyes. He was still breathing hard—but not from the dancing anymore.

“You pushed me hard tonight,” you said, voice light, teasing, though your pulse was already racing.

He stepped closer. “You always act like that wasn’t the point.”

You met his gaze in the mirror.

“Wasn’t it?”

That was it.

In an instant, his hand was in your hair, yanking your head back as his mouth found your neck—hot, wet, desperate. You gasped, hands scrambling for the barre as he pressed his body flush to yours from behind, cock already hard against your ass through his joggers.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” he growled. “Every time you bend over in front of me… every time you moan during warmups?”

“I wasn’t moaning—”

“You were,” he cut you off. “And now you’re gonna really make noise.”

He dragged you toward the locker room—fast, rough, hungry.

The moment you crossed the threshold, steam hit your face. The showers were still running. Warm mist rose around you, mixing with the echo of dripping tile.

He shoved you up against the cold wall.

His hands yanked down your leggings, your soaked sports bra already halfway off before you could blink. You weren’t wearing underwear. His breath caught as he saw how wet you were—not from sweat.

“Fuck,” he whispered, dropping to his knees.

You braced yourself against the tile as his mouth met your pussy, tongue immediate, no warm-up. He ate you like he’d been starving, lips sucking, tongue flicking your clit in fast, precise strokes that had your knees buckling.

“Ni-ki—shit—fuck—”

He moaned into you, arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you in place as you writhed, hips grinding against his face. His tongue slipped inside you, curling, and your hands slammed against the wall as the first orgasm tore through you—sudden, sharp, spine-arching.

He pulled away, lips wet.

“You done?” he asked, cocky.

You glared down at him. “Not even close.”

His smile turned feral.

He stood, shoved his joggers down, and lined his cock up without ceremony. He grabbed the back of your neck, shoved you hard against the shower wall—and slammed into you in one thrust.

You screamed.

He didn’t stop.

Ni-ki fucked you like he’d had this fantasy for months. Fast, deep, dirty. His hips slapped against your ass, wet skin smacking loud in the tiled room. His hand tangled in your hair again, yanking your head back so he could hiss in your ear.

“This what you wanted?” he growled. “Fucked like a slut in the locker room?”

“Yes—fuck—yes—”

“You gonna come again on my cock?”

“Ni-ki—”

He pulled out. Flipped you around. Lifted you against the wall with raw strength, one hand under your ass, the other choking you softly as he slammed back in.

You wrapped your legs around him, water streaming down your bodies.

He was deeper now—angled just right, cock hitting that spot that made your whole world flicker. You clawed at his back, shoulders, kissed him hard as your second orgasm built—fast, unstoppable.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled. “Tight, warm—fuck, you’re perfect.”

You broke apart with a cry, body clenching down on him, soaking his cock as your orgasm rocked through you. He fucked you through it, eyes locked on yours.

Then with one guttural moan—he came inside you, cock pulsing deep, filling you up until it spilled out around him, mixing with the water.

You stayed like that. Pressed to the wall. His breath panting against your mouth.

“I knew it,” he whispered. “You were waiting for this.”

You smirked, voice wrecked. “I was waiting for you to snap.”

© thedevillsmaid

should i make more ot7 scenarios??