you sit at his left, foot tucked under the table, shoulder grazing his now and then. tiny stars, doodles and scribbles occupy the page while you work out, curving your pen to make little emphatic marks in the margins of your print out. jungwon notices the way your hand moves, jaw tightening in an almost imperceptible way.

when someone across the tables laughs at one of your jokes- and the world is cruel in the way laughter can make people bloom- his fingers tighten. the pen in his hand chokes on its last ink, yet not even sunoo can notice the flare in jungwon's eyes. he exhales, sharply. flicking away at a page.

jay perks up, looking at him. "everything okay?" he asks, eyes flicking between the two of you. jay means the question for the group, asking for the study rhythm- but he catches the way jungwon doesn't let go of the pen straight away. "all good."

at one point you lean into riki to point at a diagram, and he catches your hand to correct you. you smile, offer a joke, and he laughs- everyone does. but jungwon's was short, smile thinning into a stoic frown, brows turnt downwards as he loses himself into the paper. he then continues to respond normally, stopping for conversation while easing the tension in his mind. still, the heat behind his eyes evaporate. someome makes a comment- "you two are still together, right? y/n?"

jungwon's jaw tightens, and you can tell he's building something inside that is sharper than annoyance.

he doesn't blow up, he never does. his mood is a pressure that collects and then, when the leak is found- uses a small, careful excuse to get you away from the table. perhaps, it's a suggestion he makes casually. i think the library printers ate the files. want to check the laptop with me?"

but this time, it's:

"shit, left my books in the car. come help me grab it."

the group nods away, brows knitted at the way he's gathering your things hastily while his other hand latches onto your wrist; as if you wouldn't come back to the group.

that's because you wouldn't come back.

jungwon slides his hand to your lower back with a touch that reads more. "your place." he murmurs into your hair, softly. you follow, because you always follow when he suggests things like private libraries and tutoring. you try to make small talk to your boyfriend- but he shuts it down. clicking his tongue or gripping your hands tighter as you make it to his.

the moment you arrive at yours, he drops his bag with a decisive thunk and then turns to you with alook that is at once apologetic and given to hunger. "too much noise. we'll study here."

•

"you're not listening." jungwon sits beside you, explaining quietly, pointing at the page. numbers and letters scattered across the screen, flicking pass your eyes and melting before it meets your brain. the clock in your room ticks, loud to accomodate the pen clicking in his hand. sat on the floor, legs tucked under the mini desk, body lotion and shower gel radiating off of your soft skin while he watches your eyebrows crease- he knows one thing: you're smarter than this.

nonetheless, you nod cluelessly, mind humming to a tune that often occupies your ears. there's no point in entertaining him in understanding- not when you're so easily flustered; not when he's leaning this close, not when his voice is low and warm. right. beside. your ear.

"again, y/n." he murmurs,

"trying," you say softly, ear tips pink as you grab the pen off his finger tips. you lean forward into the paper, while his shoulders lean into yours, his broad edges caging you.

"try harder, bunny." he nudges you, throwing your eraser into view, already letting you know to rewrite your answer before he interferes. "i don't think you're trying."

"i am!-" "prove it." his words simmer through yours, chin jerking forward, necklace clinking against his collarbone. you pout. huffing, and tensing your shoulders before dropping the pen. you hover over the page, the ink sloping away from meaning. letters. numbers- they blur into a low tide of obligation, and he watches you hesitate. he clicks his tongue, shoulder brushing yours. you want to roll your eyes at the dramatics of how easily he affects you, to say you're fine and not the thousand little things that come with being this near him- how hot it makes you feel- but when he reaches and taps a number into place by taking your hands and pen into his, your chest churns with an answer before he does.

"can't think?" his low murmur ghosts the shell of your ears, "if you're going to refuse to work, then you owe me the courtesy of admitting it."

the light spill of your lamp dips into the curve of his collarbone, and the chain on his neck detangles when he leans forward, his face lowering just to meet your cheek. "bunny,"

you try to roll your eyes, but your thighs quiver at the shameless reaction your heart acts towards the petname. he smirks at your immediate composure. "i don't do theatrics," he says, fingers tightening towards your wrist, "i'll show you the method until you get it."

you're stubborn, 'hmph'-ing at his tone. you're smart, you know you are- but not as smart as him, and he loves it. you try to resist his grip from your wrist but he pulls you into his lap, grey sweatpants against your skirt, thigh to thigh, and your back being cradled by his frame. his voice lowers, a low grunt as he props you against him. it's the private gesture he only reserves for you- "if you're going to be like that," his lips hover down to your neck. "i can punish you."

your shoulder blades pucker, you look up at him, you blink at him- and he smiles sly. "i mean, you owe me the satisfaction of seeing where you'll do it properly when i make you." he taps the page as if the paper is a prop. his hand moves from your arms to your waist, lifting, groping the edges of your skin before he pushes you flush against him. the two of you sandwich, leaning against the book shelf- table pushed aside and book closed. you inhale his faint, bitter scent of his cologne as his reaches for your chin to tilt towards his hungry eyes. "so, you gonna finish the question for me?"

"what's gonna happen, wonie?-" you push his buttons, rubbing your ass on his hard crotch. you love it when he gets riled up, pupils dilated at the thought of you. his hands slide under your top, cupping your breast and squeezing it before bringing his finger tips to the centre to play with your nipple. squeezing it all while he shoves a tongue into your mouth just so you could shut up. "another stupid question." he ruts into you. your boyfriend is always- always horny for you. rough and hostile when you do anything, and so incredibly on edge when you ask him to fuck you. he's a ticking bomb, always wanting to touch you at any given moment. in a domain where study is his expertise, he's above you. like no matter what you say, you'll already always say yes. when you moan against his mouth, he forcefully grabs the back of your head, pushing your tongue into his while he needily tugs onto it. strings of saliva dribbling down your chin while he spits into your pink lips. he kisses you one last time, deep, loving and claiming.

his hand wanders to your ass, cupping it, palm swallowing the volume before he spanks you, hastily lifting your skirt while he makes you face the wall, stomach rubbed against his crotch. he grunts, lifting your hips til your ass is up and your back is arched. jungwon bunches your skirt at your hips, wet panties on display while he continues to knead your ass.

you watch his brows knit at the sight of you, his glasses sliding off his nose just to be thrown off in a hurry. "wonie.." you whine.

"conservation of momentum: say it and mean it." his voice is stern, laced with a need to punish you.

you babble, legs swinging under his grip, trying to wriggle out while he claims your neck with his left hand. "u-um-" spank. "no 'um's." he shows his fang just smiling at the way your hips quiver.

"a system.." "system?" "where force is conserved-" spank. hard and brittle. his hand forme patterns of pink on your ass. "fuck!" you cry and whine. "don't pretend like you don't like this, bunny." he lowers down to kiss your ear.

"describe simple harmonic motion in three sentences." he spits on your ass to cool you down, peeling your wet-slick panties down to your mid thigh before he cooes at the sight. "c'mon baby. answer me."

you whimper.

"t-the wavy stuff! x equals-" spank. spank. spank. "loud and wrong," he tsks, "just give up studying, baby." he laughs at the way your slick webs to his fingers the moment he presses it to your opening.

"but won-" "no buts." he interrupts you. "just stay dumb. let me be the smart one. i'll do everything for you." he continues to peel your panties off. you try to rebut, but his actions were quicker- taking your pink panties and shoving them into your mouth. won shoves you onto the floor. pulling your top up, scraping the table away, shoving pens to the floor. paper scattered your room while he pushing your parted thighs into your stomach. "mmph!" you muffle, squirming out of his thick grip.

jungwon buries his face between your legs with the kind of greedy intent you've only ever seen when he thinks the rest of the world can be forgtten. the contact of his breath makes you back arch, shivering as he moans into your pussy lips, tasting the faint smell of your lotion, slick and sweetness he smiles into- the face of someone who's been keeping inventory of you for years. hands gripping each thigh, pressing into the soft plush of your innards. "i'm done being your teacher." he kisses your folds.

the first kiss was reverent, slow and deliberate. sloppy and worshipful. the second his mouth finds you, you tilt your hips without thinking, offering your core to his tongue until the pressure hits just right- rubbing against your clit. his tongue traces the curve of your bump, circling, then pressing. kitten licking until he waits for you to get greedy- just for him to stop and edge your moan rippling against your own fabric. his fingers at the back of your knees dig in lightly, anchoring you until you whine deliciously. your muffled cries eventually get released when jungwon's extra hand rips your panties out your mouth.

"f-fuck!" you whimper, breathing as he blows cold air on your slick. slow and painfully deliberate licks with a hardening suction. eventially his fang tickling your tender fold. "f-faster! please!" you cry, but jungwon pushes your knees in deeper, shutting you up while he grinds his lips into pussy. his tongue dives in and out faster, lapping at your heat while every wrong answer gets wiped out by the right motion you want. you feel your feet tingle, core tightening. you hate the way he has you edged and you try your best to shift and push back. jungwon lets a possessive laugh, palm your ass as he brings a finger up and into your wet heat you yelp in pleasure as he curls it into your sweet spot. "want another finger? my fuckin' sweet, stupid baby?" he cooes. you nod helplessly, feet arched as he twists into your gummy spots.

"say you're mine." he spits on your pussy, claiming it again. "i-i'm yours!" you cry. "who do you belong to?" "wonie!" "who do you answer to?" "you-" "who?" "you! jungwon- you." you answer, looking into his deep eyes that swallow your frame. he kneels over you, pressing a soft kiss to your damp forehead. "atta girl." heartbeat throbbing over his girlfriend's umpteenth confession.

there's a moment, mid-breath. where the room thins to the sound of his name swallowed somewhere between a plea and a command. he sinks two fingers in while his lips connect back to your clit. and you feel your core coil again, tightening as your fingers helplessly tangle in his hair.

"'m cumming!" you let out a gutteral moan, tearing through the low music, breath stuttering as he moans into it. melting into your convulsing hips, palm pressing down your tummy so he could feels the way your gummy walls shake and tremble to his fingers. you let out inches of moans after whines, fingers tightening around his hair because jungwon's tongue doesn't stop- lingering, circling, jittering until the tremors slow down. he swallows the bubbles he made, divine milk mixed with his salivating waters that drip from his mouth- his body still hungry. not satisfied.

"more." he demands. he lifts his face, breathy and tipped with a grin you know too well- that smug, dangerous expression. jungwon sucks his fingers full of your sticky cum infront of you before he undresses himself, lining his leaky tip just to shove it in your sensitive pussy with no hesitation. your hands hold onto the bookshelf above and behind your head, your cute trinkets shaking as he rams his fat length into you with no remorse. "fuck! baby!" you cry once more until his hips stutter at a speed that fucks your climax. he's feral, base slapping against your creamy hole until precum leaks onto his balls. he doesn't bother preparing you when he pulls you up and fucks you from behind, facing the small mirror on your wall while he plays with your nipple for you to see. his ring and middle are sunken into your hollow mouth, and you clamp your swollen lips around them, sucking it while he makes you look at yourself swallowing every part of him. "so good for me. so smart." he exhales, voice catching every time he pumps into you. "such a smart fuckin' girl." he praises you once, before your arms meet the floor.

your ass is raised as your hands can no longer lift your head, pussy being too fucked out by jungwon's ruthless speed and heavy force plowing into your gummy walls with a need you've always felt warmth in. "fuck baby, gonna let me cum in you?" you can't even reply when tears seep out of your eyes, tongue dry as it catches for air.

"answer me." "yes! please cum in me.. please." you beg. he groans at your plea, shoving the last inches of dick into before you could feel his tip spurt white streaks deep into your core, spilling out of you while you feel his nails dig into your hips. his chest heaves while a few stray hairs cling to his temple, sweat beading down to the stupid, satisfied smile on his face- the same he uses when he knows he's correct.

he doesn't say much when he softly anchors you forward, bringing your limp body to your plush sheets before wiping you down. jungwon kisses your thighs and shivering arms, holding the back of your head when he makes you sip cold water, tucking your hair behind your ear before he cleans your room up. you watch him, blanket tucked under you as he cocoons you with warmth and tender touch. "love you, baby." he murmurs against your neck, his nose bridge nuzzling deeper into your neck. "i love you." he confesses again. fingers crawling to your waist before he pulls you in tight.

just another tutor session. with your boyfriend who's always right.

permies:

the morning stretches out lazily around you, golden light slipping through the curtains in gentle slivers, casting soft shadows across the room. outside, the world is quiet—only the faint chirping of birds and the occasional rustle of wind threading through the trees. it’s peaceful, calm, the kind of morning that wraps itself around your limbs like warm silk. but inside, beneath the covers, the mood is anything but tranquil.

riki lies beside you, body tense, breath uneven. he’s been tossing and turning for what feels like hours, his sleep fractured by the ache pulsing between his legs and the impossible heat of your body so close to his. every time he shifts, every brush of the sheets, every accidental graze of his skin against yours—it only makes it worse. his cock is hard, throbbing beneath the thin fabric of his boxers, the pressure almost unbearable now as it presses against the curve of your back.

you’re still sleeping, soft and unaware, your breath slow and even. your body’s curved in toward him just slightly, warm and inviting beneath the blanket, and it’s driving him insane. his mind won’t stop racing—images of you from the night before, the way your lips had looked when you pouted, the way your shorts had ridden up your thighs, the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears. now, with nothing but a few inches of space between you and the weight of morning silence, those thoughts spiral deeper, darker, more desperate.

his hand moves without fully thinking—slow, cautious, trembling. it finds your waist first, fingers brushing lightly against your bare skin. he freezes for a moment, just listening to your breathing, waiting to see if you stir. but you don’t. so he lets his hand drift lower, tracing the soft curve of your belly, the warmth there making his throat go dry. his thumb strokes back and forth gently, almost soothing, but his mind is anything but calm.

his hips shift closer, and you feel it then—the hard press of him against your lower back, thick and unrelenting, even through the barrier of clothes. he sucks in a quiet breath, biting down on his lip as he fights the urge to rut against you, to let the friction offer him even the smallest bit of relief. he doesn’t mean to wake you, doesn’t mean to take advantage of the moment. he just wants to feel you, wants to pretend for just a second longer that you’re his—that he can have this, have you, without consequence.

he knows he shouldn’t. not without you awake. not without you looking at him with those sleepy, soft eyes and whispering his name the way that drives him fucking crazy. but the temptation is unbearable, gnawing at him from the inside out. he wants to test it—to see just how much he can get away with before you stir, before the dreamlike quiet of the morning shatters into something heavier. something messier.

he’s desperate to feel you. to feel the way your walls flutter and clench around him, warm and wet and so fucking perfect. the thought alone makes his hips twitch forward instinctively, grinding the length of his cock against the curve of your lower back in a slow, pathetic thrust that drags a needy whine from his lips. he bites down hard on his tongue, trying to keep quiet, but the friction barely helps—it only makes him crave more. need more.

his hands tremble slightly as they slide down your sides, slow and careful, brushing over your skin like he’s trying not to wake you. when his fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts, he hesitates for just a second, eyes flicking to your face. still soft. still sleeping. so he tugs—gently at first, then more confidently—until the thin fabric slips down your thighs, pooling at the edge of the bed, forgotten. he adjusts one of your legs, just enough to part them slightly, enough for him to fit between.

he works his own sweats down with practiced ease, dragging them past his hips and kicking them off without a sound. his cock springs free, flushed red and dripping, the cool air of the room making him hiss quietly. one hand wraps around the base, fingers squeezing just enough to make his stomach flutter. the other reaches for you, settling on the curve of your ass, kneading the soft flesh there like he’s starving for it. you’re so warm, so pliant, your body molded perfectly into his as he scoots closer, chest pressing firmly to your back, pelvis nudging into you.

your ass is pushed up now, a beautiful arch formed in your sleep, and he takes it as an invitation he can’t resist. his hips shift forward, his cock nestled right between your folds, the thick head gliding along your slit, smearing his precum into the slick already gathered there. he groans, quiet and strained, the sound muffled as he buries his face in your shoulder. it’s too much. it’s not enough.

then—he pushes in.

slowly. painfully slowly. the tip of his cock parts you, stretching your entrance as your walls begin to welcome him in, warm and wet and perfect. his breath catches, and his eyes clamp shut, brows furrowed as he sinks in deeper, inch by inch. your walls hug him so tightly it almost hurts, and his mouth falls open in a silent moan, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he fights to stay quiet. it’s like your body knows him—even in sleep. like it wants him.

he chokes back a louder sound when he bottoms out, hips pressed flush against your ass, cock fully buried in your warmth. he stays still for a moment, trembling with restraint, the pleasure so sharp it nearly brings tears to his eyes.

“fuck,” he breathes, barely a whisper. “you feel… s-so good…”

his hips move forward in a slow, deliberate thrust, every inch of him dragging against your slick, warm walls as he sinks back in with a quiet gasp. he’s trying—trying so hard to take it slow, to feel every tight pulse of your cunt wrapped around him like it was made to keep him there. the pace is lazy, drawn-out, but it’s laced with desperation, with the kind of need that makes his muscles tremble as he grinds deeper into your body. your skin is soft under him, your warmth pulling him in further with each slow, aching roll of his hips.

you stir beneath him, the smallest shift of your body, a soft sigh that escapes your lips—but he doesn’t stop. he doesn’t even flinch. he’s too far gone, too wrapped up in the way your pussy clenches around him so perfectly, like it knows exactly who he is and what he wants. his head falls forward, breath shaky against the back of your neck as he presses his hips in again, groaning low as your warmth swallows him whole.

his hands slide up beneath your shirt, palms gliding across your stomach, trailing higher until they find your bare breasts. his breath stutters the second he realizes you’re not wearing a bra—just bare skin, warm and soft in his hands, like you knew this would happen. like you wanted it. he groans against your ear, the sound deep and raw, vibrating against your skin.

“fuckkk…” he breathes, fingers curling around the swell of your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples as his cock drags deep inside you again. your walls flutter around him at the same time, and it pulls another moan from his lips, louder this time, more unrestrained. your body feels too good, too tight, too perfect for him to stop now.

“ri…ki…” your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, cracked and sleepy as you shift slightly beneath him. your body arches into his touch, back curving as your eyes slowly blink open, adjusting to the morning light. a tiny whine leaves your throat, breathy and high, and your thighs twitch slightly as the sensation finally registers—he’s inside you. already moving. already moaning for you.

he lifts his head, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, pupils blown wide as he looks down at you with a mix of guilt and lust so thick it nearly chokes him.

“oh fuck, princess…” he groans, louder now, voice breaking at the edges as your gaze meets his, still hazy and dazed but not fighting him. not stopping him. the way your lips part with another breathy whimper—your hips shifting ever so slightly against his—makes something in him snap.

you feel it—every lazy, deliberate push of his cock inside you. the stretch is slow, deep, almost unbearable in the way it drags against your walls, thick and long and so much that it steals the breath straight from your lungs. he moves with a kind of unhurried hunger, like he’s savoring every second he’s buried in you, like he’s memorizing the way your body reacts with each twitch of his length. and you do—feel every twitch, every pulse, every tremble. it makes your mouth fall open in a soft, broken moan, your body arching instinctively, overwhelmed by how full you are first thing in the morning.

your hands slide up beside your head, fingers curling tight into the pillow as your thighs tremble beneath him. there’s no time to fully process the shock of waking up like this—not when his cock is already thrusting inside you so slowly, so sweetly, and his breath is hot against your ear, murmuring your name in that low, needy voice that makes you clench around him without meaning to. the intrusion of him, the way he fits too perfectly, like your pussy was made to take every inch of him—it’s too much. and yet not enough.

he groans sharply, voice thick with restraint, his rhythm faltering for half a second as your walls squeeze down around him again. “fuck… i’m gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby…” he pants, his voice cracked and breathless, like he’s seconds away from losing all control. his head drops to your shoulder, lips brushing against your skin as his body trembles above yours. his eyes roll back, lashes fluttering as the tight heat of your pussy milks him, and he can barely keep himself grounded.

you don’t stop.

you can’t.

the way he feels inside you—the way his cock presses so deep, twitching uncontrollably with every thrust—it has you dizzy, whimpering into the pillow as your body pushes back into his without thinking. and he feels it. the way you’re not holding back. the way you want it just as badly. his hands grope blindly until they find your breasts again, palms warm and shaking as he squeezes them tight, fingers rolling over your sensitive nipples like he needs something to hold onto before he falls apart.

his moans grow louder, raw and wrecked and deliciously desperate. “shit—oh my god…” he chokes out, hips stuttering as his balls tighten, heavy and aching with the pressure building inside him. he’s so close, you can feel it—the way his body tenses, the way his breath catches with every roll of his hips. and it only makes you clench around him harder, wanting him to lose it. needing him to.

“fuck—yes, riki…” your voice comes out breathy and cracked, your head thrown back against the pillow as your thighs tremble beneath him. you can feel yourself unraveling, pulled taut around him, every nerve alight with how deep he is. he’s pressed up against you completely, his chest slick with sweat against your back, his cock buried to the hilt, so far inside that every thrust has him dragging right over your sweet spot—over and over again, so precise, so perfect it has you gasping.

his pace doesn’t falter. if anything, it gets rougher, more determined, like he needs to hit that spot until you break. his hips snap forward, driving into you again, and again, and again—and every time he does, your body jerks with it, helpless and eager. your fingers tighten around the sheets, back arching when the head of his cock grinds against that sensitive bundle inside you, making your vision blur.

you hear him groan, close to your ear, low and trembling, and it sends another wave of heat crashing through you. “oh fuck… i’m close… fuck, ‘m close, baby…” he whines, his voice strained, wrecked, soaked in desperation. his arm stays locked around your waist, holding you tight against him, while his other hand snakes down your body, urgent and shaky, fingertips sliding right between your legs.

and then he finds it—your clit.

you cry out when his fingers brush over it, soft at first, then firmer as he starts to circle it with slow, deliberate pressure. your walls flutter violently around his cock, your body reacting instantly to the extra stimulation. he moans with you, voice cracked and high, lost in the feel of you squeezing him tighter than ever before.

“fuck, fuck… fuck! ‘m cumming, baby—oh my god, fuck—” his voice breaks into a groan, then a whine, one hand clutching your breast, the other still working your clit as he falls apart.

you feel it before you hear it—his cock twitching hard inside you, pulsing with thick, hot spurts of cum that spill deep into your pussy, coating your walls as his hips stutter helplessly. he doesn’t stop thrusting, not right away. not even as he cums. his body moves on instinct, chasing the aftershocks, wanting to stay buried in your warmth as long as he can. you hear the slick sound of him still moving inside you, still throbbing, still moaning through it.

his breath is ragged against your neck, panting harshly as he comes down from it, his fingers softening but never leaving your clit. his cock twitches one last time, a broken groan falling from his lips, and then he collapses against you, body shuddering, flushed and drenched and completely spent.

but riki doesn’t stop. not even as his chest heaves and sweat drips down his spine, not even as his cock twitches one last time from the intensity of his orgasm. the need for you is still thrumming through his veins like a drug—hot, addictive, insatiable. he pulls out slowly, groaning low in his throat as your walls cling to him, fluttering around nothing, the slick sound of your bodies parting making his breath hitch. he hisses through his teeth at the sight—your pussy clenching from the emptiness, still pulsing, still hungry for more.

you barely register the loss before he’s moving again, quick and desperate, hands firm as he grabs your legs and spreads them apart, settling between them like he belongs there. and he does. his mouth is on you instantly, no hesitation, no teasing—just tongue and lips and hot breath as he dives in, devouring your soaked cunt with unrelenting hunger. he groans the moment he tastes you, loud and guttural, the sound vibrating right against your clit. his tongue flicks over it again and again, then presses flat and slow, dragging upward to collect the mess dripping out of you. a mix of your arousal and his cum coats your folds, and he drinks it down like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever had.

his hands grip your thighs tighter as he sucks hard, his mouth working your clit in slow circles before his tongue darts down again, fucking into you just to taste more. the wet sounds echo between your legs, obscene and slick and so good it has your head thrown back, your fingers clawing at the sheets. you’re trembling, legs already shaking, overstimulated and still climbing higher.

he pulls away with a soft pop, breathless and flushed, his lips and chin glistening with your slick. his eyes are wild, blown wide and glossy, but they don’t leave the mess between your legs. his cum is still dripping out of you, thick and warm and pooling at your entrance, and the sight alone makes him moan again.

“fuck, look at you, baby…” he breathes, voice wrecked, as he reaches down and slips two fingers into you without warning.

you gasp, your back arching off the bed as his fingers slide in easily, the intrusion messy and loud. his cum spills out around his knuckles, dripping over his hand as he thrusts deep, curling his fingers immediately to find that sweet spot again. and when he does—fuck, it’s over. your thighs jerk, your stomach tightens, and a moan tears from your throat, high and broken.

“riki—fuck, riki, i’m gonna cum—” your voice breaks into a loud, desperate cry as your body coils tighter and tighter, your walls clenching around his fingers like you’re trying to pull them deeper.

he growls, low and full of heat, his fingers moving faster now—relentless, pounding into that spot over and over again until you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. the wet sounds only grow louder, slick dripping down to the sheets as your body starts to tremble violently.

“that’s it, baby,” he pants, watching your face twist in pleasure. “cum for me. fuck, let me feel you—come on, just give it to me.”

your body’s burning—everywhere—with the kind of pleasure that comes in waves, crashing over you again and again without giving you a chance to breathe. riki’s fingers are merciless, fucking into you with speed and precision that has your legs trembling uncontrollably on either side of his head. the pressure is building fast, dangerously fast, coiling low in your stomach, a tight, unbearable ache that has you gasping for air, your moans spilling out freely now, loud and high and wrecked.

he never lets up. not for a second. his fingers curl again, and this time, he stays pressed there, dragging over your sweet spot with every thrust. his mouth latches back onto your clit, sucking hard—filthy, wet sounds echoing in the room, your slick dripping down his wrist and coating his chin. he moans into you again and again, desperate and unashamed, like the taste of you is making him drunk.

“riki—fuck, oh my god—don’t stop, i—i’m gonna—” you can’t finish the sentence. your whole body locks up, your legs snap shut around his head, and your hips jerk forward without warning as the orgasm hits you like a train.

your vision whites out.

you scream his name, voice breaking into a sob as your walls clench down hard around his fingers. your back arches off the bed as the pressure explodes, and a gush of slick shoots out of you, soaking riki’s hand, his mouth, the sheets beneath you. the pleasure is so sharp it’s almost painful, your thighs twitching violently as you squirt all over him, completely helpless to stop it.

and riki fucking moans.

loud.

needy.

his tongue doesn’t stop—if anything, he’s messier now, chasing every drop with frantic licks, letting it spill down his chin and moaning against your clit like he’s been starving for this moment. his eyes are fluttered shut, face buried between your thighs as he grinds into the mattress, rutting into the sheets like he can’t take it anymore.

“fuck, baby—holy shit—you’re so wet, fuck, you taste so good,” he whimpers, his voice completely fucked out, high and breathless. his fingers keep moving, just a little slower now, easing you through the high while his lips press wet, open-mouthed kisses along your trembling inner thighs.

your body is limp, twitching, legs spread wide and shaking as he finally slows down. you're still dripping, thighs slick with cum and spit and everything in between, your cunt fluttering from the aftershocks, clenching down around nothing now that he’s pulled his fingers out with a slick pop.

he doesn’t move far. just rests his cheek against your thigh, breathing hard, lips still parted like he’s dazed.

“you squirted so much for me,” he murmurs, almost in awe, fingers idly rubbing the slick between your folds. “fuck, you’re unreal…”

his eyes flick up to yours, and the look on his face—flushed, wrecked, completely pussy drunk—is enough to steal your breath all over again.

and when he leans in again, tongue flicking out to lap up the mess between your thighs, you know he’s nowhere near done.

you’re still gasping, your lungs aching for air as they try to keep up with the rapid, uneven rise and fall of your chest. your limbs are trembling, boneless, completely limp beneath the weight of your own release. your fingers twitch uselessly against the damp sheets, the fabric twisted and soaked beneath you. your whole body feels like it’s buzzing, like your nerves are short-circuiting—caught somewhere between exhaustion and the lingering high of your orgasm.

your thighs are still spread, sticky and weak, barely able to hold themselves up as they tremble with the aftershocks. you feel them ripple through you—those deep, involuntary pulses of your pussy still fluttering around nothing. your clit throbs violently, so sensitive that even the ghost of cool air brushing over it makes your whole body flinch. every inch of you is soaked—your inner thighs, the base of your spine, the space beneath your ass—slick with your cum, his spit, the remnants of everything he’s already pulled out of you. and yet, somehow, you know it’s not over.

because riki doesn’t move far.

he stays between your legs for a moment, face just inches from your overstimulated pussy, lips parted, breath ragged. his chin is glistening, his mouth shiny, and the look on his face is something between awe and obsession. he looks dazed. fucked out. starved. the sounds leaving his throat are low, nearly silent—tiny, shaky whines that sound like he’s barely holding himself together. and then he moves.

he crawls up your body slowly, like he’s climbing out of a dream, kissing every inch of skin he can reach along the way. his lips find your inner thigh first, then your hipbone, then the soft swell of your stomach, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on the places you’re still twitching. he mouths at your skin like he’s trying to stay grounded, like if he stops touching you, he’ll forget how to breathe. his hands roam again, slower now, sliding up your waist and beneath your shirt, fingers splayed as they glide over your ribs before cupping your breasts again like he needs them. he groans when he feels how sensitive they still are, thumbs brushing over your swollen nipples until you arch into him with a shaky gasp.

his face finally reaches yours, and he pauses—hovering over you, flushed and panting, his bangs sticking to his damp forehead. his cheeks are dusted a deep, lust-drunk pink, his lips puffy and wet. he looks at you like you’re unreal, like he can’t believe he gets to have this, have you. his eyes flick down to your lips, then back up, and the kiss he gives you is slow and deep and messy—tongue sliding against yours with the same desperation he just had between your legs.

you moan into his mouth, still dazed, still trembling, the taste of yourself on his tongue only making your stomach flip. your body jerks when his cock brushes your folds again—hot and heavy, pressed between your slick thighs. even through the haze of overstimulation, you can feel how hard he still is, how needy he’s become.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers against your lips, his voice hoarse, broken. “you drive me fucking insane…”

he doesn’t even have to line himself up. your pussy is soaked—wet and loose from how hard you came, slick and swollen and so ready that the thick head of his cock just slides right back into you with barely a push. you both gasp at the feeling—your body arching off the bed, his hips faltering as he sinks all the way in.

“fuck—still so tight,” he groans, voice cracking, his forehead pressing to yours as his cock stretches you open again. you sob out a cry, your walls fluttering violently around him as your body tries to adjust.

the overstimulation is immediate and brutal.

your cunt is already twitching from the last orgasm, so sensitive it’s almost painful—and now it’s full again. his cock drags against every part of you, the friction sharp and overwhelming. you whimper into his shoulder, fingers curling around his arms, nails digging into his sweat-slicked skin.

“riki—ah, f-fuck—it’s too much,” you breathe, voice high and shaking, your head falling back against the pillow. “i can’t—i can’t—”

but he doesn’t stop.

he thrusts slow but deep, grinding into you with a slow roll of his hips that makes you feel every single inch. his cock presses against your sweet spot on every thrust, dragging across that soft, swollen bundle deep inside you like he knows exactly what it’s doing to you.

“i know, baby,” he pants, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “i know it’s a lot—but just give me one more, yeah? just one more. i need it.”

his hips snap harder now, a wet slap echoing with every thrust. your bodies are so slick, so sticky, that the sounds are obscene, soaking the sheets beneath you as your cunt tightens around him with every movement. you’re so full. so overstimulated. so close to falling apart again.

his hand slides between your bodies, fingers finding your clit without hesitation, rubbing tight little circles, fast and precise. you cry out, your voice loud and broken as your hips buck up against him.

“c’mon, baby,” he groans, his breath stuttering. “make a mess for me again. i know you can. squirt all over me. fuck—i want it.”

your moans are pure sobs now, high-pitched and uncontrollable, the pressure building faster than you can handle. your thighs spasm. your nails dig deeper. your body starts to curl inward, desperate to find something to hold onto as the wave builds harder, deeper, dangerously high.

“riki—fuck, i—i can’t—i’m gonna—!”

“do it,” he growls, mouth hot at your ear, his voice falling apart. “cum for me. fuck—soak me, baby. show me how good i make you feel—please—”

your body breaks in waves, shuddering beneath him as that unbearable pressure finally snaps—ripping through your core with the kind of intensity that robs you of your breath and leaves your vision flashing white. it hits you so fast, so hard, it almost doesn’t feel real—like your body’s floating and falling at the same time. your mouth opens in a cry that doesn’t fully form, your voice caught in your throat, too overwhelmed to even scream.

your hips jerk uncontrollably. your back arches off the soaked sheets, spine curving in pure reflex as the orgasm explodes from deep inside you. and then it happens—your whole body convulses as a violent gush of slick sprays out of you, splashing over his hips, your thighs, the bed, everywhere.

riki moans like you’ve just touched heaven itself.

his head snaps up from where he’s been kissing your shoulder, eyes wide, lips parted, absolutely drenched in the sight of you falling apart for him. “fuuuck—oh my god, baby,” he gasps, breath hitching on every syllable like it physically hurts him to see you like this and not lose it. “you’re—fuck, you’re squirting, you’re actually—holy shit.”

he sounds delirious. undone. pussy drunk in the truest sense of the word.

you feel him twitch inside you, feel his hands grabbing at your waist like he needs to anchor himself, like if he doesn’t hold you he might just fucking break apart. and the overstimulation only gets worse from there—his cock still buried inside, still grinding into your fluttering walls, dragging through the sensitive, soaked mess you’ve made with every tiny movement of his hips.

your thighs are trembling violently, muscles spasming with aftershocks you can’t control. your hands grip at his shoulders, his hair, the sheets—whatever you can find, whatever keeps you tethered while your body spirals through the afterglow of your release. more slick gushes out of you, another uncontrollable burst that sprays between your legs, soaking his abdomen and the bed beneath you. it just keeps coming—wet and warm and messy—and riki is losing his fucking mind.

he moans again, louder this time, voice trembling as his eyes roll back for just a second, completely overwhelmed. “that’s it, baby, fuck—keep going, don’t stop—soak me,” he groans, and then he’s kissing you, his mouth crashing against yours in a desperate, open-mouthed kiss full of tongue and need. his hips are stuttering now, thrusts sloppy and shallow, fucking you through the mess, like he doesn’t know how to stop. like your pussy is too good. like your body owns him.

and in that moment—it does.

his hand slips between your bodies again, fingers finding your clit even though it’s throbbing, swollen, unbearably sensitive. he rubs soft circles, drawing out every drop, every twitch, and your legs jerk hard, another sob ripping from your throat as your vision blurs with tears. the overstimulation has you screaming, crying his name, your body convulsing beneath him with each new burst of pleasure that has no place being this strong.

“shhh, baby, you’re okay, i’ve got you,” he whispers, but his voice is broken, thick, like he’s crying too. “just let it out—god, you’re so fucking perfect—look at how much you’re cumming for me…”

another wave hits, and this one has you sobbing.

you feel it gush from you again, slick pouring out of your overstimulated pussy in rhythm with the clenching of your walls. you can’t stop it, and you don’t want to. you want him to see, to feel everything, and riki is right there, taking it all in like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

he’s whispering against your skin, his lips moving from your cheek to your ear to your collarbone, repeating soft, broken things like “you’re so good,” and “mine,” and “gonna remember this forever.”

he thrusts one last time—slow, deep, dragging his cock through your still-spasming cunt before finally collapsing on top of you, his arms wrapping around your shaking body, his breath completely wrecked. he doesn’t pull out. doesn’t move. he just holds you there, his chest pressed to yours, his cock still twitching inside your soaked, ruined heat.

the room is silent except for the sound of your breathing—shaky, uneven, like you're still learning how to inhale again. riki’s heart is pounding in his chest against yours, fast and wild. his hands are everywhere—stroking your hair, rubbing your back, cupping your face as he peppers soft kisses over your cheeks.

he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes glassy and so full of emotion it makes your breath catch. “you… you’re unreal,” he whispers, voice hoarse, lips brushing yours. “you came so hard for me, baby. you soaked me—fuck, you wrecked me.”

and still, he stays inside you.

still full.

still hard.

still kissing you like he’s never going to stop.