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barnacles34 · 15 days

Text

Only You (Ryujin x Male Reader)

Tags: 12k, Obedient Ryujin, Smut, Smut with Plot, Mutual Pining, Reunion, Existential Crisis, Confident Protagonist, Emotional Complexity, Exploration of Idol Work Culture, Mild Alcoholism

This is kind of a prequel to Beautiful Relationship, I even wrote this one before Beautiful Relationship (thus the quality, I believe, is worse), but all my smuts (foreshadowing) are stand-alone. I tried editing this to the best of my ability, hopefully it is as well received as Beautiful Relationship.

---

The labyrinthine corridors of Samsen Company echo with the whispers of a typical blood feud, a battle for majority stock that has raged pointlessly. And yet, I stand atop this corporate Olympus, an adopted child of supposedly 'middling' potential, now orchestrating a behemoth bureaucracy from the confines of a messy, decrepit office room in my sprawling estate. The irony isn't lost on me that only the office room nearest the entrance truly feels like home.

My 26th birthday dawned, a day that should have been a personal milestone, instead became a crucible of insufferable drama. My 'brothers,' those parasitic entities I can barely stomach, the sycophantic beggars I despise, and the so-called friends whose very presence grates on my nerves – all converged like vultures to a carcass. As I extricate myself from my forcibly invaded sanctuary, I allow my gaze to drift over the manicured landscape, pointedly ignoring the fumbling private investigators who've abandoned all pretense of subtlety in their ravenous pursuit of compromising intelligence.

I exist in a state of emotional limbo – neither depressed nor elated. I've reached the zenith of my capabilities, my natural introversion honed into a weapon of corporate warfare. The room I've claimed as my citadel, locked against all intrusion, is the crucible where I forged my majority ownership of Samsen. It's my den, my haven, the only place where the cacophony of the outside world fades to a bearable whisper.

I don't venture out for something as mundane as a cigarette or to ruminate on 'innovative' ideas (a laughable concept – my success stems not from innovation but from an uncanny ability to accumulate and wield power). No, as I step beyond my threshold, my mind is a tabula rasa, momentarily free from the incessant calculations that usually occupy it. Yet, as the cool air hits my face, I find myself inadvertently delving into the labyrinth of my past, present, and the myriad potential futures stretching before me. Some intangible force, a siren call I can neither name nor resist, beckons me towards the unknown, towards a life I've never dared to imagine.

---

The memory of my adoption by Mishima, the venerable chairman of Samsen, surfaces unbidden. I was 14, newly orphaned, my parents having departed this mortal coil in quick succession. Mishima's explanation for taking me in was deceptively simple – right time (he was pushing 70), right place (his hometown), and a third reason uttered so softly it's become a lifelong enigma, a puzzle I still turn over in my mind during sleepless nights.

Our relationship defied easy categorization. He was never a father figure, more a mentor, a guiding star in the treacherous waters of corporate politics. When I aced the aptitude tests and CSAT, I put on a show of wanting to enlist in the military before settling into a cozy Samsen sinecure. But it was all smoke and mirrors, a carefully crafted lie concealing my true ambition – to ascend to the executive echelons of Samsen.

Mishima, ever the puppet master, saw through my machinations instantly. With a smile that seemed to hold the wisdom of ages, he said, "Before you become an executive, you should get better at lying in people's faces." That night, I was christened as an Executive-to-be, my position awaiting me post-military service.

But even my Machiavellian mind couldn't have predicted the earthquake that was Mishima's inheritance letter. To be named heir-apparent alongside my two 'brothers' sent shockwaves through the Eastern hemisphere. An adopted child, thrust into the limelight, my past carefully obfuscated by my new family to mask the true extent of my capabilities.

---

As the memories fade, I find myself pondering the possibility that I'm not just tired of work, but of the very fabric of my existence. I crave a distraction so profound it would eclipse even the most insufferable company. With a decision born of impulse rather than reason, I orchestrate a day of frivolity.

The following morning finds me chauffeured to a waterpark I've rented for my exclusive use. The experience proves disappointingly hollow, each splash and slide a stark reminder of the void within. Undeterred, I embark on a frenetic tour of Seoul, each new locale failing to scratch the existential itch that seems to grow with every passing moment.

---

It's in this state of restless dissatisfaction that a name bubbles up from the recesses of my memory – Ryujin. The mere thought of her sends an unfamiliar tremor through my usually imperturbable demeanor. We were inseparable once, the suburbs of Seoul our playground, our bond seemingly unbreakable. But that was before the adoption, before life carved its divergent paths for us.

Twelve years have passed, each of us climbing our respective mountains of success. Yet, as I stand before the stadium, a maelstrom of emotions I thought long buried threatens to overwhelm me. I'm almost late, almost nervous, almost... happy? The unfamiliarity of the sensation is both thrilling and terrifying.

My arrival causes the expected commotion, ripples of shock spreading through the crowd like wildfire. But for once, I find I don't care about the attention. My focus narrows to a singular purpose – watching ITZY perform. After an eternity of jostling bodies and exclamations of surprise, I'm finally ensconced in my front-row seat, an island of luxury hastily constructed amidst the chaos.

As I settle into the chair, the full weight of my nervousness becomes palpable. Every sensation is heightened – the plush fabric beneath my fingers, the unyielding rigidity of the table before me, the oppressive weight of the air in this crowded arena. My usual mask of indifference slips, revealing a vulnerability I thought I'd long since excised.

---

The performance unfolds like a fever dream, a symphony of movement and sound that both captivates and unsettles me. I watch the ITZY members with a mixture of admiration and envy – their fierce dedication to their craft, the seamless fusion of dance, visuals, and music. It's a spectacle that should fill me with satisfaction, yet I'm left with a lingering sense of disappointment. The void within remains stubbornly unfilled.

As the final notes fade and the crowd's roar subsides, I find myself rooted to my seat, mind whirling. The luxurious leather suddenly feels like a straitjacket, the weight of my position as an executive a millstone around my neck. I'm struck by the absurd thought that this gnawing emptiness might be nothing more than a placebo effect, a phantom pain born from the crucible of my nightmarish birthday and the constant strain of tolerating those I despise.

My reverie is interrupted by the approach of a man who exudes an air of exaggerated politeness. He relays an invitation to the ITZY dressing rooms with such ceremony you'd think he was delivering a royal decree. Something inside me snaps – the carefully constructed facade of the 'genius' executive crumbles, revealing the raw, emotionally stunted individual beneath. I ignore the man, my feet carrying me towards the dressing rooms of their own volition. My mind, usually a finely tuned instrument of analysis, now overclocks, dissecting every possible outcome of this impulsive action.

The journey through the backstage labyrinth is a sensory assault. The suffocating atmosphere of the stadium gives way to a cloying sweetness that grows more potent with each step. I follow this olfactory breadcrumb trail, my heart thundering in my chest with an intensity that would alarm me if I weren't so single-mindedly focused on my goal.

At last, I stand before the door. My knuckles barely graze the surface before it swings open, revealing a stunningly beautiful woman with vibrant orange hair. Her eyes widen in recognition, a mix of excitement and trepidation evident in her voice as she exclaims, "Welcome Koji-nim!"

I mumble pleasantries, feeling suddenly out of my depth as I step into the room. The ITZY members, now dressed in casual attire, bow nervously, their practiced professionalism cracking under the weight of my unexpected presence. But all of this fades to background noise as my eyes lock onto Ryujin.

She bows with a grace that belies her nervousness, her doe-like eyes carefully avoiding my intense gaze. Her black hair, still damp from the performance, frames her face in a way that speaks of careful styling even in its apparent dishevelment. Her skin, a creamy canvas that seems to glow with the lingering energy of her performance, peeks through the airy, wrinkled fabric of her clothes. The subtle interplay of concealment and revelation is mesmerizing.

I'm vaguely aware that I'm staring, my pupils dilated to the point where the other members exchange confused glances, uncertain of the sudden tension in the room. But Ryujin knows. She feels the weight of my gaze, understands the unspoken currents of our shared history.

"Ryujin," I breathe, the name a prayer and a curse on my lips.

She finally meets my eyes, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in their depths. "Koji... it's been a long time."

The air crackles with unspoken words, shared memories, and the weight of twelve years of silence. The other members watch our interaction with a mixture of confusion and fascination, sensing the undercurrents but unable to decipher their meaning.

As the initial shock wears off, we fall into a semblance of normalcy. Pleasantries are exchanged, names are shared, and I find myself being drawn into the warm camaraderie of the group. They reveal their upcoming monthly break, a respite after their grueling world tour. My limited knowledge of the K-pop world extends only to the scandals of overwork, so I find myself oddly relieved at the thought of their well-deserved rest.

The conversation meanders, touching on various topics, until it culminates in an unexpected invitation to join their world tour celebration. I accept without hesitation, surprising even myself with my eagerness.

As we make our way to the celebration venue, carefully avoiding main roads to evade the ever-present threat of paparazzi and private investigators, I find myself ruminating on the absurdity of my situation. I, Koji, possibly the busiest person in the world, yet somehow finding time for everything. The irony isn't lost on me.

The fear of private investigators that once plagued me now seems almost laughable. I've become so entrenched in South Korea's infrastructure that any move against me would be tantamount to domestic terrorism – or so the political board assures me. The thought elicits a sardonic chuckle, the absurdity of my life hitting me anew.

We arrive at our destination, a traditional building that exudes an air of quiet opulence. The owner herself greets us, leading us to a private room that seems worlds away from the bustling city outside. As we enter, the emphasis on traditional aesthetics is immediately apparent, demanding a level of respect and decorum that even I, in my usual state of detached amusement, feel compelled to honor.

We shed our shoes and take our places around the low table, sitting cross-legged on plush cushions. I note with a mixture of irritation and intrigue that while Yeji has positioned herself next to me, Ryujin sits diagonally across. The arrangement irks me more than it should, and I find myself stealing glances at Ryujin when I think she isn't looking.

The arrival of food and drink signals the start of the celebration in earnest. Soju and whiskey flow freely, the ingredients of forgetfulness laid out before us like a tempting feast. The ITZY members' eyes light up at the sight, their excitement palpable.

"Are you usually this excited to drink?" I ask, unable to keep a hint of amusement from my voice.

Yuna, the youngest, pipes up with an enthusiasm that's both endearing and slightly alarming. "Well, nothing helps the soul breathe more after months of being abroad and weeks working more hours than Elon Musk does in the office than a couple of bottles!"

The other members playfully scold her for her candor, but I find myself warming to their dynamic. Despite the obvious nervousness that still lingers beneath the surface, there's a genuineness to their interactions that I find oddly comforting.

As the night progresses and the alcohol flows, the conversation becomes more animated. We discuss our respective careers, our histories, and a myriad of other topics. I notice with a mix of professional admiration and personal concern that the ITZY members seem remarkably resistant to the effects of the alcohol, despite having consumed significantly more than I have.

It's in this atmosphere of lowered inhibitions that Ryujin finally breaks her relative silence. I've been aware of the concerned glances the other members have been throwing her way, as if her quiet demeanor is out of character.

"Did you know Koji Oppa and I were–" she begins, only to be cut off by a whispered warning from Yeji about the use of honorifics. I turn to Yeji, intending to ask for clarification, only to be struck by the intense blush coloring her cheeks. The other members, quick to pick up on the situation, begin teasing Yeji mercilessly.

Ryujin clears her throat and continues, "Did you know Koji-nim and I were childhood best friends?"

The revelation is met with surprise from the others, who look between us with newfound interest. There's a moment of hesitation, the weight of our shared history hanging in the air, before Ryujin and I begin to piece together the story of our upbringing.

As we talk, I feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The barrier that had existed between us – built of years of silence and divergent paths – begins to crumble. The others, sensing this change, relax into the conversation, their earlier nervousness giving way to genuine curiosity and warmth.

Yuna, emboldened by alcohol and the more relaxed mood, turns to me with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Hey sunbaenim, why are you so handsome, even though you're a chairman?"

The question catches me off guard, my usual sharp retorts failing me in the face of such unexpected forwardness. I scoff and take another bite of food, buying time as I try to formulate a response.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Ryujin glaring at Yuna, her eyebrows tied with irritation. The younger girl immediately wilts under the look, adopting a sulking posture that speaks volumes about the group's dynamics. It's fascinating to me how a single glance can convey so much between them.

As the night wears on, the effects of the alcohol become more pronounced. Soon, everyone except me is in various states of inebriation, heads lolling and arms thrown around each other as they burst into spontaneous song.

In this haze of alcohol and nostalgia, Ryujin turns to me, all pretense of formality abandoned. "Hey! Why haven't you contacted me? I used to send an endless amount of messages waiting for your response after I was done being a trainee, waiting for your response, and don't say that you changed your phone number because it's clearly the same and it even lights up your phone just now when I texted you!"

Her words, slurred but pointed, catch me off guard. For perhaps the first time in my adult life, I find myself at a loss for words. The carefully constructed walls I've built around myself suddenly feel paper-thin in the face of her raw honesty.

"I... I wanted to reinvent myself," I finally manage, the words feeling hollow even as I speak them. "To bury the past."

The effect of my words is immediate and heartbreaking. Tears well up in Ryujin's eyes, and in that moment, I'm struck by the realization of how much I must have meant to her. The thought that I, in my single-minded pursuit of success, might have caused her pain is unexpectedly distressing.

But the moment passes quickly, swept away by the infectious energy of the group. Soon, they're on their feet, performing elaborate choreographies despite their inebriated state. I watch in amazement, marveling at their skill and dedication even in such a compromised state.

As the night draws to a close, I'm faced with an unexpected dilemma. The ITZY team has departed, leaving the members without a way home. In a moment of uncharacteristic impulsivity, I decide to take them to my alternate penthouse nearby.

The journey is a comedy of errors, with me attempting to wrangle five drunk K-pop stars into my chauffeur-driven car. As we ascend in the elevator, my arms full with the most inebriated members, Yeji and Yuna, a cascade of more sensible plans floods my mind. The irony of my situation isn't lost on me. But it's too late for regrets now.

I manage to navigate each member to a separate bedroom, where they immediately succumb to exhaustion. As I close the last door, I turn to find Ryujin waiting on the couch, her eyes heavy-lidded but alert.

"Why does this home feel like it hasn't had anyone living in it at all?" she asks, her gaze sweeping across the immaculate, impersonal space.

I pause, considering my words carefully. "Because I bought these homes thinking that the bigger size would make me happy, but I just end up staying in one room all day."

Her response is immediate and cutting. "Huh... you really must be out of your mind."

I scoff, both amused and slightly stung by her blunt assessment. As I help her to the master bedroom – a decision I'll later attribute to the alcohol's influence – I'm acutely aware of the warmth of her body against mine, the subtle scent of her perfume mingling with the lingering aroma of soju.

As she settles onto the bed, her voice takes on a softer, almost vulnerable tone. "Please hug me."

The request catches me off guard. "Why?"

"Pay me back for all the years you've neglected me."

Her words hit me like a physical blow. "Didn't you stop texting me?"

"Because you ignored me for two years!" The pain in her voice is palpable. "What was I supposed to do? Text you for two more years? Would that ingrain in you the idea that I valued our friendship!?"

As she weeps silently into the luxury tapestry, her oversized button-up shirt and pantyhose creating a strangely alluring silhouette against the expensive bedcover, I'm struck by the complexity of our shared history. The years of silence, the unspoken longing, the paths that diverged only to converge again in this moment – it all comes crashing down on me.

Despite my usual aversion to physical contact, I find myself drawn to her. I climb onto the bed and wrap my arms around her from behind, inhaling her scent one last time before succumbing to exhaustion.

---

I awake alone, the lingering warmth on the sheets the only evidence of Ryujin's presence. The distant sound of clattering draws me from the room, my feet carrying me to the balcony overlooking the living room. The sight that greets me is unexpected – Ryujin in the kitchen, the air filled with the aroma of a home-cooked breakfast.

As I descend the stairs, the other members quickly apologize for their irresponsibility the night before. Their earnest attempts to make amends – cleaning the rooms, preparing breakfast, even stocking the fridge – are both touching and amusing. I find myself imagining, with a hint of sardonic humor, how these globally successful idols would fare as my personal staff.

After they leave, I savor the breakfast Ryujin prepared, each bite a reminder of a simpler time. As the day progresses, I find myself utilizing more of the penthouse than I have in years. The library, once a showpiece, becomes a sanctuary as I lose myself in classic literature. It's a luxury I'd forgotten I needed, especially after working 365 days last year and nearly every day this year. The irony of my negotiated "optional" work life isn't lost on me – even if I hadn't shown up for a decade, my position as chairman would remain secure due to my overwhelming support in the company.

At 7 PM, the doorbell's chime breaks the peaceful silence. Expecting the cleaning staff, I'm surprised to find Ryujin at the door, a hefty bag in her arms and dressed in what appears to be pajamas.

"What are you doing here, Ryujin?" I ask, unable to keep a note of curiosity from my voice.

Her response is typically direct. "We finally reunited for the first time in 12 years and we're just gonna act like that's a small thing?"

She pushes past me, her determination evident. "Let me in! Let's watch a movie and catch up some more, and don't say we already caught up... despite being drunk, I knew most of what you were saying was corpo-talk, you freaking alien."

"Ah... you crazy lady," I mutter, but there's no real annoyance in my tone.

As she makes herself at home, pulling out an array of fermented vegetables from her bag, I can't help but ask, "First of all, why?"

"Because your fridge looks sadder than a divorced and broke 50-year-old," she retorts. Then, more softly, "And because I can tell that you need a female to care for you."

The statement catches me off guard, and I find myself strangely touched by her concern. To cover my momentary vulnerability, I tease her, "What happened to yesterday's Ryujin, who was as timid as a flower and couldn't even look me in the eyes even when blasted?"

My words seem to have an unexpected effect, causing her to retreat into herself slightly. But she continues her self-appointed task, quietly arranging the vegetables and asking permission to use the fridge. As I watch her, a memory surfaces – her family's vegan kimchi, a specialty due to seafood allergies. The fact that I remember such a detail after all these years is surprising.

"Hey, I got some expensive ass whiskey," I offer, an olive branch of sorts. "Let's eat those fermented vegetables and watch a movie."

She looks at me, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "How did you know I liked whiskey?"

"Observations," I reply, allowing a small smile to play at the corners of my mouth.

Her cheeks color slightly, and she turns away, busying herself with the food. "You know, you act like you've changed and abandoned the past, yet you seem even more strikingly original. You've still got your crazy brain itching to check under every rock, your handsome face, your dark stare..." She trails off, her blush deepening. "I'll cook some side dishes, you pick out the movie."

As she cooks, we fall into a comfortable rhythm of conversation, catching up on the years we've missed. The ease with which we interact is both familiar and new, a testament to the strength of our childhood bond and the people we've become.

Later, as we settle on the couch to watch "Chungking Express," Ryujin begins to lean into me, her body warm against my side. Without thinking, I wrap an arm around her shoulders, and she nestles into the crook of my neck.

The sensation is intoxicating. I find myself more aware of her presence than the movie, the scent of her hair – clean and floral – filling my senses. As the film progresses, I realize that neither of us is paying much attention to the screen.

When the credits roll, Ryujin's cheeks are flushed, and she avoids my gaze. "Why do you always look at people like you're going to kill them?" she blurts out.

"I know you like it," I reply, my voice low and teasing.

Her reaction – a mix of embarrassment and pleasure – is endearing. As she gets up to clear the dishes, I compliment her cooking. Her soft "Thank you" is barely audible, but the pleasure in her voice is unmistakable.

"Well, is there anything else you want to do?" I ask as she returns.

"Can we sleep in your bed for just a bit?" Her request is tentative, almost shy.

"Why?"

"Just a bit tired from the whiskey."

I can tell she's not being entirely truthful, but I find I don't mind. "Sure," I agree, surprising myself with how easily I acquiesce.

As we settle into bed, I hold her close, careful to maintain a respectful distance between our lower bodies. The warmth of her presence, the soft rhythm of her breathing, lulls me into a state of contentment I haven't experienced in years.

"Koji," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Have you had girls here on this bed before?"

The question hangs in the air, heavy with implication. I consider deflecting, but something about the moment – the darkness, the intimacy, the years of unspoken feelings between us – compels me towards honesty.

"Yes," I admit, "but not out of my own volition. A bunch of executives wanted better odds of staying with the company by forcing me to lay with their daughters before I was chairman..." I pause, the memories leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "Those nights were some of the worst."

I feel Ryujin stiffen slightly in my arms, then relax. Her hand finds mine in the darkness, intertwining our fingers. No words are spoken, but in that gesture, I feel a wealth of understanding, forgiveness, and something deeper that neither of us is ready to name.

As we drift off to sleep, I'm struck by the realization that for the first time in years, I feel truly at peace. The void that I've been trying to fill with work, with success, with material possessions – it seems less daunting with Ryujin by my side. And as consciousness fades, I allow myself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something new, something real, something that even I, with all my power and influence, couldn't have engineered.

"Whore," she said abruptly, her voice laced with a mixture of hurt and playfulness.

The word hung in the air for a moment, its weight palpable. I felt a surge of conflicting emotions - amusement, indignation, and a strange sense of relief at her ability to joke about such a sensitive topic.

"Huh!? You little brat," I growled, my voice a low rumble. I took advantage of my growing stubble, mercilessly rubbing my chin against the soft skin at the back of her neck. The prickly sensation elicited an immediate response.

"Why does that actually hurt!?" Ryujin squealed, her body squirming as she tried to escape my assault. Her laughter, barely contained, filled the room with a warmth I hadn't realized was missing.

Eventually, our playful struggle subsided, giving way to a companionable silence. We lay there, the quiet punctuated only by our soft breaths, gradually drifting into a deep slumber. It was, I realized as consciousness faded, the second-best sleep I'd ever experienced.

When I next opened my eyes, disorientation set in. The familiar contours of my bedroom slowly came into focus as I processed the situation. Ryujin was still asleep, her arm draped possessively over mine, maintaining our embrace even in sleep. A glance at the clock jolted me fully awake - we had slept for over 19 hours. The realization hit me like a bucket of cold water. Were we hibernating?

My sudden movement disturbed Ryujin, a light sleeper apparently. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to surprise as she registered my agitated state.

I hastily explained our unexpected time skip, watching as understanding dawned on her face. Without a word, she sprang up and made a beeline for the restroom. Her urgency puzzled me.

"What's up?" I called after her, my voice still rough with sleep.

"I don't know why we slept for so long," she replied, her voice muffled through the bathroom door, "but I wanted today for us to hang out at this chic bar that's also a library."

The concept piqued my interest, but practicality reared its head. "We'll just get swarmed."

"It's only for celebrities, or is only known by celebrities," she countered, emerging from the bathroom looking refreshed.

"Well... very well then," I conceded, unable to resist the allure of a library, even one doubling as a bar.

As we went about our morning routine, standing side by side at the twin sinks, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. The familiarity of the moment, reminiscent of our childhood when we were inseparable, stirred something within me - a mix of comfort and unease.

Seeking to dispel the suddenly overwhelming emotions, I asked, "Do you have any errands today?" The question came out more brusque than I'd intended, a thinly veiled attempt at creating distance.

Ryujin's response was immediate, her face clouding over with a scowl. "Can't we just be together for a bit? It was the hardest thing being away from you for 12 years, the only reason I was able to tolerate it was because of how overworked I was, and after 12 years you want to leave me again?"

Her words, raw with honesty, struck a chord. Before I could formulate a response, she crossed the hallway in quick strides, enveloping me in a tight embrace. The desperation in her grip spoke volumes.

As I stood there, my arms slowly coming up to return her embrace, I realized she was right. Despite my ingrained tendency to maintain emotional distance, I found myself wanting to be with her too. The admission, even if only to myself, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

We arrived at the bar via what Ryujin jokingly referred to as the "celebrity tunnel network," her expertise in navigating this hidden world both impressive and slightly disconcerting. As we entered, I was struck by the bar's understated charm. It was almost run-down, yet appealingly so - homely in a way that spoke of comfort rather than luxury. I could see why it would appeal to celebrities missing their hometowns, a retreat from the glitz and glamour of their public lives.

"Well, how is it?" Ryujin asked, a hint of anxiety in her voice as she awaited my verdict.

"Pretty damn nice," I admitted, allowing a small smile to play at the corners of my mouth.

Her face lit up at my approval. "Let's go and have some fun!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

What followed was almost dreamlike in its intensity. We played games, drank, ate, sulked, and cheered. Through it all, our focus remained solely on each other, the celebrities around us fading into inconsequential background noise.

"Your neurotic brain didn't expect this much fun, did it? It might faint and die!" Ryujin teased, her laughter echoing as she darted between the massive bookshelves.

"Aish, you little brat!" I called after her, giving chase through the labyrinth of literature.

We ended up nestled between the library shelves, surrounded by the comforting smell of old books and polished wood. The atmosphere was thick with silence, broken only by the soft rustle of pages and our quiet breathing. As we searched for classics, Ryujin naturally assumed her position, her head resting in the crook of my neck. The familiarity of the gesture, the warmth of her body against mine, sent a jolt of electricity through me.

Overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion, I gently motioned for us to separate slightly. As I created a small distance between us, my eyes were drawn to her, really seeing her perhaps for the first time since our reunion.

Her jet-black hair, styled to perfection, complemented her subtle yet striking makeup. The black silk dress she wore, flowing to the floor, was a stark contrast to her usual casual attire, highlighting the dichotomy of her public and private personas. Her low heels accentuated her pedicured feet, a small detail that spoke volumes about the care she put into her appearance.

As I gazed at her, I was struck by the realization that nobody else would understand the depth of her character - the caring soul hidden beneath the exterior of a femme fatale. This knowledge, this intimate understanding of who she truly was, felt like a precious secret shared between us.

The longer I looked, the more entranced I became, not just by her physical beauty, but by the beauty of her soul that shone through her eyes. Those eyes, now wide with an emotion I couldn't quite name, met mine. In that moment, we needed no words. Our connection, forged in childhood and tempered by years of separation, spoke volumes in the silence.

As we stood there, surrounded by the whispers of countless stories contained in the books around us, I felt a shift in our relationship. The boundaries we had carefully maintained, the walls we had built over years of separation, began to crumble. In their place, something new and fragile was taking root - a connection deeper and more profound than anything I had experienced before.

The realization was both exhilarating and terrifying. For someone who had spent years cultivating an image of cold, calculated success, the depth of emotion I felt for Ryujin was unprecedented. It threatened to upend the carefully constructed world I had built for myself.

Yet, as I stood there, lost in the depths of her gaze, I found I didn't care. For once, the ever-present voice in my head - the one constantly strategizing, analyzing, planning - was silent. In its place was a quiet certainty that this, whatever it was blossoming between us, was worth any risk.

As if reading my thoughts, Ryujin's lips curved into a soft smile. Her hand found mine, our fingers intertwining with a familiarity that belied our years apart. In that moment, surrounded by the accumulated wisdom of generations contained in the books around us, we began to write a new chapter in our own story.

The deafeningly silent row became our tunnel towards each other. And, my lips crashed into hers. I pinned her to the solid shelf, which I made sure to push with increasing strength to test its integrity before, she took everything with gratitude, her lips moved slower, savoring each moment, my lips moved faster, trying to devour her, increasingly pressing into her silky mouth.

My entire body pressed against her, and even her little heels didn’t help much in reaching me, she was standing on her tiptoes. Her body pressed against mine, the silken feeling arousing both of us every second, I grasped for more and more, tightening my grip on her, the softness of her thighs obvious through the silk dress, and even more so when I passed my hands under her dress, desperately clamping on her thighs.

Little breaths of air were the only moments we could stay away from each other at that moment, her meek moans against my mouth were utter bliss, the gentle exhales adding heat betwixt our faces, my hips slowly grinded into her, the heat of my erection pressed against her body, the feeling almost like there wasn’t any cloth between us, leaving her mewling on my lips, each moment of my hips bringing out a deeper moan out of her mouth. We kissed each other with occasional eye contact, the kiss wasn’t enough, I needed to stare into her beautiful eyes, engorging on her, conquering her state of mind.

Our passion grew only larger, I grabbed hold of everything, her exposed milky thighs surrendering to the shape of my grasp. My hands slid on the side of her body, I grasped tightly, akin to a bear hug under her shoulders, yet her body still submitted, syncing the body rolls in pleasure. Grinding deeper into her, letting my tongue trail against her mouth deeper. And, There was a sudden jolt, and a much loader moan left her mouth, her whole body shook and I held her tighter, her lips left mine with trails of saliva to slowly moan into my mouth, she was driving me fucking crazy.

As she caught her breath, our makeout session resumed, this time I held her up as she straddled me, leading to our groins rubbing even more intensively. The only thing separating our genitals were 3 layers of clothing that were already soaked in her essence. The pain of keeping an erection in my pants soon became apparent, yet it was probably the smallest thing in the world compared to kissing Ryujin. The static of the books slightly picked strands of her hair off, the increasing static of our ministrations gathering the attention of even inanimate objects, for our passion was so great. Her neck divulged, surrendered to the cupping of my hands, her head relayed and followed the motions of our cuddling.

The pleasure strained her face so beautifully, the knotting of her eyebrows, the irritated wrinkles of pleasure.

“Oh my go-god…” she exhaled beautifully into my face as she stared intently, “I never expected my first time to be in a public library.”

“This isn’t your first time, this is your introduction, dear, I’ll find a space where I’ll send you to heaven.” I replied.

Her face knotted with a joking disapproval, with a slight hint of anticipation of what could be.

A beautiful cornucopia existed in our ecosystem, a beautiful quietness mixed with the groans of pleasure. The deeper I went, the more she accommodated, and yet I felt a slight hinge, a hint that she was overstimulated.

I paused, quietly prodding at what could the irritation be.

She had nearly lost her voice, raspy and soft, she said,“I’m so sorry, I’m so sensitive that any more action would probably make me pass out”

Such a gentle and kindred soul, you smirked, giving a peck on her lips one last time before you lowered her on her bare feet because the small heels had slipped off as she straddled you. Even without heels, her legs were jelly, and she fell down like a doe.

She glanced back and laughed.

She used her arms to hold on to me as we exited the building and into the car.

She broke the warm but not awkward silence to say, “Koji, could you drop me off at [X]? I promised to do something today and I’m about 3 hours late…”

I looked at her dumbfounded, “what about your bag?”

“Keep it there… You don’t just want to end it off here right?”

There was silent confirmation in both parties.

“Well… what about your dress? It’s soaked”, it was basically her entire lower half part of the dress that was damp.

Her cheeks grew bright red, “pervert… let’s grab some clothes fast at a store.”

The day merrily went by as we both said our heart-felt goodbyes.

—---

A day later, several epiphanies were realized within the octane of haphazard thinking I was ‘famous’ for:

First, that I really didn’t need to work much at the company at all, I had set myself up such that any more action would be diminishing on both the company and me.

Second, I was bored as hell, entering some scholarly professorship under my own authority helped stave it off somewhat.

Third, my loins grew hot whenever I thought of Ryujin.

-----

Ryujin had been busy with friendly and familial commitments that she made prior to going on an escapade with Koji, if she could, she would’ve canceled all of them in a heartbeat. Holidays for Ryujin or any idol is usually heavier than many jobs, like a veteran in Vietnam, beaten up, broken but still itching for a little more. Though Ryujin was doing better than most idols, she was a finalist for the national math olympiad, an accomplished essayist in her school, these other facets of her life threatened the utter subservience many agencies demanded, to be like IBM white shirts whose entire life molded into IBM was the fate of many idols.

After 2 straight days of commitments later, she finally embraced the cold warmth of her bed at midnight. And her entire mind was only of Koji. Her brain was etched with the intense moment they shared in that library, their desires being unleashed on each other in such an unsuitable place, maybe if it was more suitable, perhaps they would’ve gone farther?

This thought shook Ryujin, goosebumps over her body and her loins grew heated. Her moans were soft against the fabric of her pillow, and she quietly whispered his name with eyes closed and euphoria bloomed in her mind. Her face knotted with pleasure, with imagination ablaze in her cranium. Her embarrassed thoughts of being brought to climax within just a minute or two were overridden by her desire for him. A warm wetness grew in her until she stopped breathing, her mouth agape, slowly pouring out a warm moan.

She silently uttered, in a low tenor: “I miss him…” splayed out on the bed, in the afterglow of her orgasm.

She probably cannot go without Koji for another day.

After her climax, she debated on whether to message Koji first, thinking that she could be a burden on the budding multi-billionaire. Well, not really, she didn’t care as long as she got to text Koji. Koji was at home, engaging in his self-study in deep work, yet jumped like a gun when a unique ringtone buzzed, opposed to his corpo chat ring that he could care less about.

She finally finished her arrangements and this time Koji wanted to come over.

Koji texted, “I would’ve come over if not for the fact that you’re surveilled 24/7”

“Haha, come on, our group is 5 years old, I would jumped off the building if I had to share a studio with someone ever again”, she was beaming with sunshine at the phone, kicking her legs in the air as she felt the conversation turned to her favor, being that he would come over.

“Send me your address ASAP”

“Why do you send texts like a corpo robot hahaha”

“You’ll rue this day”

“I’ll be looking forward to it ;)”

They enjoyed each other’s dry humor, one that developed and grew over the years, making their jokes and interactions even more cohesive to one another. Finally after some banter, they both said their good nights, exhaustedly, Ryujin lightly phased into sleep as Koji stared into the ceiling for hours before sleeping.

Ryujin prepared for the noon meeting by cooking a bunch of meals, especially foods that didn’t use much oil to cook, remembering his intolerance of frying oil. Ryujin predicted that Koji would be absurdly early, so her prep began as early as 8 am; picking out the undergarments, faintly blushing at the idea of both of them going past the line; and cleaning the home until it was spotless.

Koji was usually conservative with what type of car he drove in public. Yet, this time he sped across Seoul with the Bugatti to not only come early, but to buy gifts for the first time he’s visiting her home, it’s been only 2 days and he missed her whisker smile. Koji entered a luxury pawn shop that had a collection of random goods. He bought a vinyl player, radiohead vinyl disks, and a golden necklace dating back to the 1500s restored near perfectly. He would’ve bought more if he could, but the sudden decision to bring the bugatti out severely hampered his carrying capacity. And so, he carried the goods through the street, and despite shopping around for about 20 minutes, the street was full of people. He gripped his thigh and sped down the road with the loud revs of a matador, it was bound to be a social media spectacle within the hour, he couldn’t care less.

At 10:45 he arrived at Ryujin’s specified address, and he was quite taken aback by how early he came. Though, now that he arrived, it would be a waste to wait until 12.

So, a knock came on the door. Ryujin was startled, if this was Koji then old habits truly died hard, notoriously giving her family a hard time with how he perceived time. Her flip flops smacked against her heel as she approached the door and slowly opened it, embarrassed about how she was dressed currently.

Koji quickly peered in and took her appearance in, his mouth slowly went agape.

A pink oversized t-shirt, very short shorts, flip flops, and an elegantly promiscuous anklet.

A premature silence arose, she was gorgeous, a close description of her was impossible, a more esoteric description is more suitable: it was as if god molded Ryujin as her passion project, the objective beauty overwhelming, subjective beauty incomprehensible. “Are you gonna keep staring me down and up?”, she giggled with a red tint in her cheeks.

“Oh right, well I brought some gifts since I was visiting your home for the first time”.

“Oh come on! You’re making me look bad, I should’ve brought gifts.”

“To be fair, I am basically the richest man in the world.”

She scowled at him with a slight smile and took a look at the gifts.

She really seemed so happy, fiddling with the items she got, observing them as they sprawled in her thin arms.

“Well, come on in, even though you’re about an hour and 15 minutes EARLY.” She said with a raised eyebrow, as if it was some habit of mine.

“Events lead to another, well come on, introduce me to your home.”

After an introduction and a delicious lunch, “how the hell is this food so good?” her whisker-smile appeared yet again. Koji wasn’t lying, the food was delicious more so than michelin restaurants and their opulent blandness. Perhaps, the taste is enhanced with the warm stare of Ryujin, the bare-faced beauty, in her home-attire, as if this was their ordinary life.

Ryujin asked, “Actually, I never asked you this, but how did you acquire all that wealth?” She was lightly pecking at the food with her metal chopsticks, the slight pinging sounds enthused her question with a more casual tone. It was one of Koji’s favorite questions because it encapsulated the essence of his preparation.

After about 20 minutes of Koji rambling about his strategies and mathematical approach as an executive, Ryujin said, “damn, you’re a geek”, despite listening wide-eyed with utmost attention.

“You were a geek too, if you didn’t dance you would be the geek of the century! You were reading Kafka at the age of 11, come on!” Koji blurted out, with intense resolve, knowing how much of a geek Ryujin was.

“Well I don’t know, I don’t remember anything from that book. Honestly, I might’ve just pretended to read it because you liked those types of books.” She slightly shuffled in her seat, with her head down as if she wanted to hide from embarrassment at her sudden confession.

Koji laughed harder, somehow, Ryujin just eased his burdens, well his incomprehensible burdens that turned him into a corporate robot.

No amount of conversation satiated their fascination for each other, perhaps the many years they spent apart had deepened their resolve to stick together.

Ryujin replied, wanting to switch to a different topic, “It seems like you really love your job huh… I thought being an idol was about dancing and singing, and then I was exposed to all the media training, political affiliations, customs, surveillance, and it’s kind of fizzling out, well, until I met you…” her ramble always amuses Koji to no end.

“Well I would say my job was pretty average, there was never any strong emotions I felt, I felt completely normal leveraging a trade of 50 million dollars that would’ve threatened the entire liquidity of the company, and sometimes I don’t even understand how I became the chairman, it all seems like a coincidence to me.”

Ryujin, amused with his naivety of his success, replied, “Well you know as Seneca said..”

Koji suddenly remembered the quote that Ryujin was about to say, and cut in together, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.”

Koji interjected again, “I don’t know. Shit. I don’t even know if I was conscious at the age of 14.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Ryujin softly said, almost a slight vibration of her low tone.

They maintained eye contact, it was endlessly romantic, they fit in so well, a two-piece puzzle in which the two pieces endlessly complex fit on every level of complexity.

There was a trickle of silence, not awkward, no no… they shared each other’s melancholy, sauntering on each other’s presence, needing not a single word to continue enjoying each other's presence.

Ryujin interrupted the most beautiful silence with her beautiful voice as Koji’s eyes dug into her, “what are you looking at? Loser…”, it was an automatic response, and he didn’t register it, knowing that his stare softens her up quickly.

“I hope you know that I would conquer the stars for you.”

“What the hell does that even mean?!” A bright flush invaded her bare face, the redness of her embarrassment was adorably apparent when she had no make-up. Still, she tried to maintain the facade of the forcefully-applied girl-boss attitude.

Yet, all those mechanisms built from relentless training and practice wilted under Koji, she was a doe in front of a spotlight, all survival instincts forgotten. Yet, it was addicting for Ryujin, the most unfamiliar territory of her life.

“You know I’m really hard to understand right?” she blurted.

It had been 12 years, after all.

But, Koji replied, “Really?”

And Koji swiftly grabbed the nape of her neck and immediately pulled her in for a kiss. She was shocked, her eyes were wide with shock and yet, her eyes slowly closed, her wispy eyelashes fluttered under the glow of the euphoric makeout and her first breathy moan escaped through her. And suddenly everything felt insignificant, the air heavy and dense with the erotic sounds of kissing.

Koji picked Ryujin up with just one arm and clearing the way with his other arm, she squealed at the surprise, “How can you pick me up so easily?” she said breathlessly after kissing, staring into Koji’s eyes, “Well you’re like 40kg, come on.” As he grasped her ass for the first time earning a squeal from her.

He dropped her onto the large couch, he held the small of her back supporting their makeout session, the peaks of her nipples were teasing him through her t-shirt, her lower body was luridly seeking his stimulation. “It seems both of us read each other exactly”, as he released the kiss to dig into the side of her neck, despite the rapid escalation, they fit so naturally, read each other so naturally and knew that they only lusted for each other. “I’ve wanted this from the second I saw you,” she confessed breathlessly against the onslaught of pleasure, “I’ve wanted to experience this lurid love-making only with you.” She always managed to say the right words, the ruthless perpendicularity of Ryujin compared to the other girls turned Koji on only more.

While Koji was buried into her body, Ryujin naturally broke down, she caressed him, hugged him, and slowly rocked against him, her natural response was his natural stimulant. He rocked against her body with a firm grasp on her creamy white ass only getting more affection from Ryujin. “Ah, you are so good, so good, I’m so turned on” she breathlessly said, trying to catch her breath and mouthing her enjoyment. “Worship me”, Koji blurted out, softly moving the pliant hair out of her face, and without specifying any further, the positions naturally changed.

Ryujin rapidly kneeled on the carpet, and spread her hands around his thighs with unbroken eye contact, she was seduced, she was over the moon, and so was Koji. She kissed and tongued at almost every square inch of his legs, going down to his shins, with her kneeled down, it drove both of them crazy, she truly worshiped Koji. Koji slightly pulled Ryujin off by grasping her hair, and she stared into him intensely with lust and bit her lips with obscene arousal, and then he released her. Ryujin Licked the inside of his thighs, going all the way to his boxers, and slowly grasping the elastic boxers to slowly pull them down.

Ryujin had almost climaxed just like before with only kissing and foreplay. And when she saw his cock, her arousal skyrocketed. It had happened, it was inconceivable for the friendship to go back to what it was, and now it would be truly and utterly impossible. The last layer of our inseparable friendship unveiled a truly new layer, a new layer that could change them forever.

With the uncertain conclusion in her mind, she took him in her mouth. Koji gasped hot air while looking at the ceiling, and went to maintain eye contact while she slowly sucked on his length. She sucked so seductively, her eyes still boring into you with lust. It was her first time doing this yet her learning rate accelerated, getting notions from the slight knotting of Koji’s face.

“Is this right Oppa?” Ryujin said, with a smile on her face, her lips a little swollen from all the pressure and sucking.

“It’s very right, baby, just try to reduce scraping your teeth against my dick.” Koji rubbed Ryujin’s nape softly, massaging the smoothness of her skin.

She took the guide gladly, layering her mouth over her teeth, vacuuming her mouth, maximizing pleasure. She took him out of her mouth whenever she felt like she was breathless and slapped it against her tongue. She stared at his cock, it was glistening with her spit and several strands were still there, and she said slurredly, “I just came from sucking your dick, you know that’s how long I’ve wanted this right?” Koji quickly grabbed hold her hair, tighter this time, slightly pulling, a small squeal at the pull escaped Ryujin, “take off your fucking t-shirt” with the raspiness of arousal, Koji’s grip on Ryujin gave her endless pleasure, and the near-growl of Koji caused a vibration of pleasure within Ryujin. She stared intently at Koji as she pulled off her t-shirt, that still had the sloppiness of her amateur attempt, it didn’t matter, experience didn’t matter in love-making.

The breasts of aphrodite, the pinnacle of beauty, supple white boobs with pink nipples, he was going crazy. She quickly got back to work on his dick, and her pink nipples grazed his shin as she made a mess on his crotch. It was obvious that she was fingering herself throughout this, clearly enjoying this debauchery.

Koji began shoving her on his dick, and she slowly gargled, trying crisis control by dragging out her gargle to make it seem like it was a random noise. Koji chuckled and shoved her even deeper, Ryujin slowly adapted and didn’t need as much time to breathe, the wall of maximality slowly easing deeper and deeper into her mouth, doing it as she upended Koji’s entire life during fellatio.

She loved it, in her cozy but well-off apartment, with the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She held hands with Koji as she sucked him off. There was a beautiful life that they had envisioned, unburdened by any sort of dubious adoption, unburdened by the expectations of the previous generation. Doing what they enjoyed only, which currently was the love they expressed for each other. Slowly, Koji eased Ryujin’s moving head, pulling her off to signal the end of the session, she released his cock with a low pop. Ryujin’s nervous obedience was apparent, she nuzzled into the hand of warmth to distract her of what was bound to happen, nuzzling deeper into the hand of Koji’s that held her jaw.

Koji stared warmly and immediately picked her up, she yelped; he asked, “uhhh…. Which one’s your bedroom?” This ridiculous moment just reminded both of them of how ridiculous this situation was, but they weren’t gonna do anything to stop it. He threw Ryujin on the bed, and she relished the situation. Before he got onto the bed with her though, Ryujin slowly planted one foot on her chest. “Why am I bareback about to be violated on my bed and the culprit is suited up like he’s about to go to work in 10 minutes?” Koji tore his button up in an instant, buttons flew everywhere.

He slithered on to her, pinning her to the bed, each hand trapped under the weight of Koji, missionary style. Now that he was closer, she began her onslaught of affection, despite being literally chained under his striating arms. And there they were, Ryujin, a goddess, slowly being dominated by the love of her life. “I’m so wet, please just fuck me… I don’t have a condom but it’s my safe day (she lied)”, and he knew she lied but he didn’t care, not even Koji could resist the dopaminergic onslaught this situation caused.

The brush of their abdomens raised both their hairs, Koji’s hard abs, Ryujin’s slick abdomen both sculpted to streamlined perfection. Koji pushed off the bed, kneeling and palmed his dick, slowly lining up to her entrance. Her folds were wet to the touch and so tender, a few soft taps ensued on her pussy, each causing Ryujin to spasm in surprise

“Is it going to hurt?” She asked questioningly, with not a single intention to stop the action, just wanting affirmation from Koji.

He cupped her face, and kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth, he avoided the question effectively, granting her the affirmation she needed. They were burning up in arousal.

And he slowly pushed in as Ryujin held onto him to steady him, but really it would do nothing, his athlete frame would overpower anything Ryujin tried to do. And as he slowly pushed in, a hard resistance was met, a loud cry definitely signaled something wrong, ah, he forgot she was a virgin. “Just keep going!” She said as she faced to the side to hide her face and bite into the blanket in case any more pain flustered her.

Koji whispered warm apologies into her ear, massaging a side of her shoulder as he slowly pushed in, even slower, even more sensually.

“It hurts…” Ryujin whined against the blanket.

“Want me to take it out?”

“No… keep going…” she said in an even quieter tone, still managing to be bratty even in her compromised position.

—--

“Holy fucking shit” I blurt as I slowly enter her pussy, a unbelievable softness, a vacuum of pulling, a stone wall of resistance, all contradictions yet the closest description to the glory of her her best kept secret.I use one hand to pull Ryujin’s face to meet mine as I slowly entered and murmured sweet nothings in her face. She was melting, and I could feel it on my crotch. I slowly entered even slower than before and it still almost seemed too much for little Ryujin.

The scrunch of the nose slowly morphed into a deep moan as I finally settled inside her, and then hugged her, letting the bristles of our goosebumps meet. She was kissing the side of my face as I was meticulously boring into her, moving faster this time.

Everything was sticky, misty, uncomfortable, the blanket was a little too hot, a little too invasive, the uneven bedding; none of that mattered when Ryujin was moaning softly right in your ear and trying to kiss you. Fuck the future, fuck the past, fuck anything that isn’t with you and Ryujin right now, what matters right now is that I make sure that she enjoys what she has desired for so long.

I get up from hugging her in missionary to kneeling upright, the heat of her chest missing from my chest slowly disheartening both of us. Yet, I thrust in her harder, my dick in her pussy, slick with her love, her everything, and she was rewarded as such, though she wasn’t the only one enjoying it, this was fucking mutual euphoria.

Her head was cushioned into a comically large pillow and her head was being buried in there from my thrusts, she moaned so happily, so beautifully, she was a walking goddess. The Striations of my muscles bulged in random places, full of oxygenated blood, I was slightly red all over. She seemed truly worried, for all she could muster anyway, getting pounded into the bed and opening her eyes any millisecond she could get from me pounding into her.

I am obsessive in nature, neurotic, and for all the care I tried to muster, I seemed to blow it all away. Seemingly increasing the speed, the knotting of her face clearly showing the orders I forgot to pass in order to get to this speed. Yet she held my forearms, the arms that held her waist down, that made her pussy gum on my cock continuously, getting her essence all over the bed; yet somehow I had been controlled, the softness of her palms slowed my addiction to her pussy, the addiction to her soul, her love, was greater.

The intensity of her pleasure grew further, I loved it. She was speechless, unable to process her pleasure, unable to laugh or scowl, with only moans leaving her mouth. I pressed my 4 fingers just over the pubis bone, and the thumb over her clit, pushing the 4 fingers deep and thumbing at her clit. And the first pump into her showed just how effective this was, she suddenly opened her eyes and immediately came on my dick.

“Oh! Fuck! Oh my gooo….” Her head instinctually pulled upwards, in foreign lands of her orgasm being in utter gridlock under my rule. She could do nothing, yet she could do everything, the slight palming of her hands, the sweet moans, the low tone could get me to do anything, any-fucking-thing.

I kept pumping until she started shaking and I slowly stopped, grinning at her novice submission.

“Holy shit, oh my god, what the hell was that?”, she was panting with love juices all over her body, glistening in the orange sunset. Pressing her forearms over her forehead to ruminate just on what happened.

I replied, “we have been at it till sunset”, I locked eyes with her, “but we’ve got years to catch up on”, and I flipped her over in a sunken doggystyle position, earning a squeal, a mixed reaction, she knew we had years to catch up on, and this was only a day’s worth, what could be next worried her slightly. She resolved her mind on it though.

She grabbed onto my forearm with affection and consent for me to ravage her behind until she couldn’t think anymore, to think this girl acts like a punk on national tv only amuses me more. And then the sight brought me back to the bed, her legs tucked between my legs, my dick hovering over her creamy white ass, it was obvious she was waiting for any kind of friction, she had her head down facing into the cover in some adorable way waiting for me to pummel her.

But this time, I wanted to savor it. I wrapped my hand in one of her elastic asscheeks and squeezed until a handprint formed, then slapped it.

She screamed into the cover, though she may be obedient, she makes it known when she doesn’t like something and this is not one of them.

I slowly descend on her, and she jumps a bit feeling the encroaching presence, too turned on to act nonchalant. I wrap my hands around her waist, and somehow my fingers almost touch each other, I bit my knuckle trying not to devour her right this second, try not to destroy this piece of god’s work. I slowly entered inside her this time, and again, utter bliss, she finally took her face off the cover and moaned seductively at me, I dropped down to kiss her while I fucked her inside out.

“You are god’s work, little princess” I whispered into her ear, with a soft grasp on her goosebump-ridden neck, her eyes looked up in arousal, her mouth opened wider, accommodating the lower moans.

Her ass stuck out accommodating my exchange with our genitals, I held one hand around her clit and g-spot area to try to stimulate both, slight grazes were applied, but not much thinking was going on, as I held Ryujin’s chin and kissed her while witnessing her 3rd orgasm, she moaned with extra saliva in her mouth, I saw her mouth crane open in pleasure, strands of our love spreading over the pillow. She was absolutely feral.

I was even rougher with my treatment the next turn around, I entered harder, held her chin harder, stimulated the clit harder. This made her orgasm a 4th time, this time she really needed a break, breaking the kiss to lay down, then the pinnacle of our sex crazed session was revealed to us, we fell onto the floor, we had been fucking so passionately that our session slowly moved off the bed. I fell first and landed on my back, and she landed on me, again revealing just how frail she was required to be. It felt like a beautiful pillow landing on me. We giggled until she asked to blow me instead, “I might actually die if you make me cum one more time and you haven’t even cum yet” pouting as if she was offended, though I was dangerously close, and she was the only girl that even brought me there, anyway what’s better than a goddess giving you a blowjob?

I climbed on the bed, and she climbed much slower, likely due to the “exhaustion”. She set herself up in the “The Pose” with her feet kicking the air as she took me in her mouth. This time, like a super-charged neural network was already giving a earth shattering blowjob, her beautiful feet dangled in the air while I held on to her hair. Her hair slowly collapsed on her face to reveal bangs, her hair spray degraded from our actions.

She was eye-fucking me with her innocent eyes the entire time as she gave me a blowjob, we both stared into eachother, silent conversations blooming in a ridiculous position. And I finally reached the peak, I grasped her head and I held her down until I unloaded all of it, globs of semen flowed down her mouth. The gaps of her mouth needed for breathing flowed out with thick baby batter, she vacuumed her mouth too late. She stared at me in amazement, I raised my brow, an empty response, one that could be interpreted any way. She took the response and understood it her own way. Her mouth slowly left my cock, clean with spit. She swallowed with a grin, rubbing my thighs, then dived down. She kneeled and swallowed it all, then went back down to clean the rest of the semen on my crotch, she licked and mewled until she sat up again softly patting me on the thigh.

“Goddess”, was all I could muster.

She smiled brightly and we showered each other in silent praise. She eventually moved down the bed, but kissed her down, my thigh, my shin, and got up to only collapse as she walked off.

“Oh shit, my legs are literally jelly”, but she adjusted herself, and asked, “Well… well. Do you wanna take a shower together?”, naked, glistening and slightly avoiding my gaze in her embarrassment.

“Do you even have to ask?” I jumped up and took her in a bridal carry. She again kept kissing whatever part she was closest to, my chest, my shoulders, “definitely a gentleman” and rested her head against me.

The shower was warm and it was a tight fit for other people, not for us though, we grazed skin-to-skin assisting each other to clean one another. It was exceptionally hard but it was the hardness that could be ignored, because this moment was almost undeniably better, she rubbed me with her hands and smiled with such affection, not even the graze of my dick fazed her in cleaning up together.

I would’ve brought down the world for her. We exited the shower and toweled ourselves, she said, “can we never be apart again for more than 12 hours?”, then she hugged me from behind, “can we always eat together?”, kissing my back, “can we sleep together every night?”, I replied, “I don’t know if I can fulfill all of those everyday, but I know this, you are mine,” pulling her into a gentle kiss that was the seal of our confessions. We got dressed, “You look great with the button-up that you ruined” she laughed, “I might leave this here as a memorial for our first time and leave shirtless”, I replied jokingly.

We both entered the living room and she immediately went to the kitchen to cook something up, “What about the leftovers, can’t we just eat that?”. She replied warmly with, “I want you to taste everything I planned over the 2 days, leftovers can be thought of later, my king”. Obviously teasing me but that definitely brought the rush out of me, the brief intermission of a wonderful quietness, one that was so cozy went on. I fulfilled my duties as chairman in the amount of time she spent cooking, in the beautiful silence.

She sat next to me, as close as possible, fabrics rubbing against each other. And we ate while watching Twin Peaks, until she was too scared to do so, then watched High and Low by Akira Kurosawa. After the meal, I went to the restroom, and I came out the room to see Ryujin sleeping the deepest I’ve seen yet.

I picked her up to the bedroom and let her lay there, her soft breathing was adorable. I was tired too, I took the cover that was almost entirely wet and found another blanket, and I slept next to her, not bothering to take off my clothes

I woke up with the familiar discomfort of sleeping with clothes on, imprinted lines and heat. The morning haze pierced through the flying dust, with eyes still accustomed to shuteye. I didn’t move, despite the discomfort, it was unbelievably comfortable paradoxically. It was because she was next to me, she was perfect for a sleeping ad, perfectly on her back, with a slight grip on the cover and mouth agape with slow and steady breaths. I moved slightly to get a better look at her.

Her eyes fluttered open. There was a pause and she scanned the room; moved her hand to feel my arm, and we locked eyes affectionately. “I can’t believe this is real”, then she jumped to hug me. She was so warm, we stayed like that for a few minutes until I felt a dampness on my chest. Was she really crying? Why? I looked down and she buried her face into my chest, I was too busy enjoying the scent of her and I wanted to investigate what happened. I pulled her off of me, and her eyes were indeed wet, “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m so happy and I don’t know what to say, I’m not sad, it just feels like I’m getting divine intervention or something,” she laughed as she wiped her wet eyes.

I palmed the nape of her neck, and kissed her forehead then her lips. “You have to be so foul as to think I might leave again, you have utterly seduced me, my little doe,” I planted kisses on her and it was almost about to transition into a very welcome round of sex on her bed. Until a sudden bell rang on her door, she jumped trying to process what to do. “I’ll just stay on the bed”, she affirmed, and hastily went to the door, conveniently with her clothes on.

I heard the click of the door and a familiar voice ask, “Ryujin, what happened? I kept calling you and messaging you and you didn’t reply!”, “I was worried sick!” It was definitely Yeji. “But you literally live next to me!” Ryujin replied, irritated.

“I know it’s our break and all, but I was kind of bored and I wanted to hang out. I kept calling you and I heard some weird noises next door but I ignored it, and then today you still didn’t pick up your phone…”

“Alright, calm down Yeji unnie, come on in.” Her voice is strangely calm and resolute.

I heard the door click and Yeji sitting down, they chatted about the group and other things. Yeji laughed and was definitely babying Ryujin. Their bond was great, their conversation was very smooth (whatever the hell that means). I don’t even know why I’m at the edge of the bed chiming in on what exactly they were saying.

“Why have you been so absent though?” Yeji may have been a little foolish, but even she knows Ryujin was acting strange.

“Uhhh.. I don’t know, maybe I just changed all of a sudden”

“Is it about the Samsen Chairman Koji?”

Ryujin was resolute throughout the entire conversation but she stuttered all of a sudden…

Then she stuttered some more, and gave up on replying.

“Wow… I thought you were “immune to love” as you said before… cringy girl, and you even smell weird. Like the smell is some kind of masculine smell, I know you use unisex perfume and sometimes that can approach a masculine aspect but I don't think so..” She definitely knew something was up.

“Have you met up with him after that crazy hangover?” Yeji added on.

“Maybe”

“What!?” Yeji gasped.

“So what!?”

“You know JYP is not gonna like that.”

“Who cares… who cares… I’ll do what I want to do…”

“Is he here right now!?” Shit, she should be a private investigator…

“Mind your own business!” She yelped with excruciating embarrassment…

“Wow, you are really head over heels for him, Ms. Immune to Love, Ms. Resolute Girl Boss!!” She laughed hysterically, hearing what she said about love and how she interacts with people is definitely amusing.

“Well I should really mind my words if he really is here,” Yeji said as Ryujin probably planted her head in embarrassment.

It’s probably my time to head out and greet her, I grasped the door handle and appeared. It was ridiculous, I had a completely destroyed white button-up that I held the “integrity” of with a pinch of my fingers.

Yeji gasped, “Oh my GOD!!! I’m so sorry sunbaenim… if you heard all of that I was just trying to tease her… I didn’t mean anything” she really seemed to be sincere about it, her mouth was agape with a slight happiness that she guessed something right for once, guess she really was teasing her about it.

I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say, what does a man who comes out of the bedroom with fucked up clothes, does he pose like batman with his fasts balled against his waist or something… fuck, should’ve thought about it a little more.

Ryujin looked back at me smiling with defeat in her eyes, begging with her eyes to resolve this crazy situation.

“Hello Yeji of ITZ…” I paused, Yeji looked disturbed, Ryujin giggled into her arms, Fuck Fuck Fuck already fucked it up.

“Hello Yeji, I am Ryujin’s boyfriend.” --------------

End Note: Hello, hopefully you enjoyed the fanfiction. I'm mainly gonna be doing Ryujin over and over again, she is just genuinely a goddess. For people who have ever even thought of writing fanfiction, do it immediately, it's a journal that you feel inclined to write because it's actually something of interest, as I rarely find myself interesting, not trying to be self-deprecating but writing in a journal is just impossible lol.

#ryujin smut #smut #itzy #male oc #male reader #hot #pining #emotions

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