#FORGET ABOUT THE ENDING EVERYTHING IS GOOD

[blkkizzat]

IF U WANT MY BABY—U KNOW IMMA DRIVE U MAD.ᐟ

꒰ა NANAMI KENTO X BIMBO!READER ໒꒱

꒰ა summary ໒꒱ : is it really baby-trapping if you both want a baby?

꒰ა cw ໒꒱ : heavy manipulation, heavy smut, edging, begging, breeding, baby trapping, slightly yandere Nanami, drugging kinda lol, cock drunk, pussy drunk, bunny/bimbo reader. ꒰ა a/n ໒꒱ : been getting alot of asks here and ao3 about p3 of the nursery. with everything going on, i dont have the focus to write it cause the next part is gonna be gaggy and theres alot of loose ends to be tied. but i've been thinking about baby trapping too much lately, actually non-stop and since i can't write toji baby trapping, nanami is the next best thing! ꒰ა wc ໒꒱ : 3073

Baby-trapping Nanami...so you don't care when he can't find the condoms that are usually in the bedside table—especially when your body is currently vibrating with the aftershocks of his skillful tongue from what seems like hours of tortuous foreplay.

Yet, ever the gentlemen, Nanami pauses, asking if you want him to stop and see if he left them downstairs.

Instantly, tears well in your eyes and you're sputtering, groping the air at him with grabby hands.

"J-Just forget 'em— n-need you b-bad K-Ken!”

Maybe a little too eagerly, you manage to sit up, hands reaching for the firm flesh of Nanami’s muscular hips—too broad to fully grasp in your small palms. Your sweat-slick fingers nearly slip off his skin as you weakly tug him closer, guiding him toward you with a soft, breathless urgency.

Fuck. The. Condoms.

To be honest, they weren't in the drawer anyway.

And you know that.

You know that because you're the one who tossed them outside earlier—into your neighbors trash bin two doors down of all places too, for good measure.

A fleeting thought occurs in this moment though, that you might have caused irreconcilable problems if either the husband or wife of the couple found them and accused the other of cheating.

But again, the thought truly is fleeting as holding a single thought is much too difficult when Nanami is tentatively dipping his swollen cockhead in and out of your pussy. Gathering up the syrupy nectar already flowing from your cunny, his thick bulbous tip swipes back up through your folds to forcefully push into your clit.

"H-Hurry n'put it in raw, K-Ken!"

Because that's exactly what you wanted.

TAP!

TAP!

TAP!

Yet the only answer you receive is the wet squelching slaps of Nanami continuously bullying your soaked puffy bud with his length. Each sharp, soggy tap making a random limb of yours twitch in pleasure, you stomach knots up in anticipation as you wither underneath the shadow of his hulking form over you.

Simply put: You're a mess.

Already teetering on the edge, your body thrums with need. You whimper, hips wiggling upward in a silent plea, hoping his slick, precum-slicked cock—already glistening with your juices—might catch on your fluttering entrance and slip inside. But to your dismay, one of his massive hands—easily strong enough to pin you down—holds you firmly in place, denying you even that.

"Aht-Aht... That's a bit reckless... don't you think, my sweet doll?"

The way your face immediately crumbs into a petulant pout causes rich, dark chuckles to spill from Nanami's lips which only deepens your dismay.

Fuck!

Your plan was to get him too turned on, too eager to sink into your open, wet, and willing hole that he wouldn't be the perfect-cautious-selfless boyfriend and just raw you. However, your plan spectacularly backfired—because now he’s just aching to take his time and ruin you thoroughly instead.

The sheets dampened dark with your arousal is proof enough. Instead, you're the one on your back, too wound up from his probing fingers causing your slick to overflow and pool on your thighs countless times already tonight.

You’re so lost in the pleasure-drenched stupor clouding your senses that you completely miss the sly glint buried beneath the stormy lust in Nanami’s eyes.

Nanami is well aware you are so desperate for his hard pulsing cock inside of you that protection is the furthest thing from your mind, even if he hadn't gotten you so spectacularly fucked out on foreplay alone.

Frankly, Nanami had known since last week that his deceitful, slutty little princess was trying to get pregnant. To his surprise, you’d been attempting it all on your own—sneaking extra prenatal vitamins behind his back like a brat.

Keyword: Extra.

Nanami who is also baby-trapping you...because he'd already been slipping you a daily dose of prenatals in your morning smoothie he makes you before you'd run out the door for work.

You hate breakfast so early in the morning, so Nanami makes you an extra caloric nutrient-dense smoothie in order to prepare your body for the baby. Breakfast, of course, is the most important meal of the day and what kind of responsible family figurehead would he be if he let you skip it?

However what frustrates Nanami is he'd truly have no idea how desperate you aref or his kids if he hadn't taken it upon himself to peek inside your weekly pill dispenser to make sure none of the vitamins you were already taking were harmful to pregnancy.

To Nanami's utter shock, you'd actually wanted his children.

You were sly, he'd give you that.

You never outright bought a prenatal vitamin.

But you had enough of the various individual supplements inside of one. Of course, it would simply look like you were just overly health-conscious to anyone who hadn't done extensive research on the nutrients and hormones needed to succeed in getting pregnant—which of course Nanami had done, going to the best pharmacist in the area for a special compound blend.

Nothing but the best for the future mother of his children.

Nevertheless, Nanami still relishes in this moment.

Drawing out agonizing cries from you with just his cock prodding in and out your twitching cunt that's desperate to be plugged and filled. Your fluttering muscles grip him eagerly, just short of being able to suck him in, thrills him just as your needy whimpers do.

"But K-Kennnnnn!"

"Shhh, now quiet, my love... you'll know I'll satisfy you even if its not with my cock."

Nanami's threats are empty of course, but you didn't know that.

You needed a taste of your own medicine.

Did you even know what you put him through?

This was your punishment.

How could you know badly he wanted to openly breed you?

How much he'd been fiending to throw you in to a mating press and repeatedly fuck his seed into you?

Nanami had always gritted his teeth to keep from growling the filth he truly wanted to say when your silky cunny gripped his cock just right, milking him like it was made for it. He wasn’t getting any younger—and the thought of how much seed he’d wasted in condoms over the last year gnawed at him. All that cum, when he could’ve been spilling it straight into your fertile little womb where it belonged.

But most importantly—did you know how much he'd beaten himself up for wanting to do it?

Nanami had debated for sometime now on broaching the subject of kids with you, but he couldn't be selfish when you are so excited for your new and already thriving career.

He was the older one.

The one whom by other's opinions probably should have already had a few kids running around by now.

Yet he'd never even wanted them—until he found you.

Nanami only wanted kids with you and he wanted them now.

He couldn't wait.

Now when his proverbial clock was so ticking loudly in his ears and the only therapy he needed to cease his fears of mortality was to fill your womb with his children. Now all Nanami can envision is how beautiful you would look, belly full, glowing even brighter than you do now—hot and needy under him.

Nanami's thoughts, which used to be filled with boardroom meetings and hedge funds, now race with how exactly to child-proof the 4 extra bedrooms in his home. For sometime now he's been building intricate plans on how to convert them into various children's rooms and a nursery.

He's been longing to do it together with you though, just itching to consult you on the wallpaper color schemes and wood types for the crib.

Sure he's being selfish.

But Nanami could provide—and isn't that what really mattered?

Nanami had already amassed a fortune from a very long and fruitful business. He'd gladly be a stay at home dad so you could resume your career, with zero pressures as to finances, as soon as you were on your feet again.

And you would be too, eventually—once you gave him at least 3 or 4 children to keep him young and on his toes while you were busy being a powerful career woman.

Yet now that Nanami knew his naughty bunny was purposefully trying to get knocked up—poking holes in the condoms for an accidental pregnancy simply wasn't doing enough anymore.

Not when his devious baby girl was already trying so hard to have his.

"Puhleaseeee K-Kento!"

Snapping him from his deranged daze, your smaller hand wraps around his wrist, sliding up his arm to scrape your kitten nails along his biceps. Nanami looks down at the well of tears now overflowing from your flushed cheeks. Your lip quivers as you're still begging, moaning pleas all the while for him to give you his cock. The very cock that is now drenched, dripping with your juices and his pre just from just a bit of mindless rubbing.

You're so close to falling to complete and utter pieces—and truly, that's Nanami's ultimate goal—to break you.

Nanami wants to push you beyond your limits until you're frantically confessing how much you wanted him to impregnate you all this time. Nanami could then keep you on your back, legs spread wide—forcibly chain to the bed, if necessary—until you were with his child.

Tease you until you begged him to dump inside of you over and over, however many times was needed, until his seed finally took.

You must think it's all your idea first after all.

It's the only way Nanami would be able to live with himself for wanting to trap you in the first place.

With not much warning besides a gruff grunt, Nanami swiftly thrusts forward—plunging his cock inside your suffocatingly slick warmth until he is hitting deep into the back of your cunt, fat tip squishing up against your cervix.

The very womb where his child would soon be growing.

You gasp out a breathless cry, the wind knocked from your lungs as your back arches off the bed, eyes rolling into your skull. Your legs coil around him tightly, clinging to him like you’re terrified he might pull away—still lost in that ecstasy-drunk haze that believes he might have second thoughts and pull out.

But little do you know Nanami can feel it—how your slick is thicker, richer, syrupy with ovulation. Your needy cunt practically melts around his cock, already creaming so much that it dribbles down his base to pool at his balls.

Clear signs that your body is ready to be bred.

The extra viscous drippings are stickier against both of your perspiring bodies that are slamming together at increasing frenzy as Nanami picks up speed.

He's usually one to talk you through it, gently build a pace so your body can adjust, but the feel of your ultra sensitive, quivering pussy along with the dense smell of sweet hormones in the air is driving Nanami into a wild frenzy.

You whine at the loss of body heat when Nanami pulls back slightly, but he has a primal need to see you impregnated in real time. The way your sweet pussy splits open so well on his girth, welcoming him and sucking him in deeper has Nanami groaning out nonsensical praises for you and your tight-soon-to-be-a-mommy pussy.

Nanami's big hands travel up your curves to press down on your belly causing you to keen sharply in pleasure. If you could pry your eyes from the back of your head, or register any other feeling than his massive length drilling into you—you may have noticed the way Nanami's hands are practically worshiping the flesh over your womb.

Cupping it, molding it and rubbing the soft chub of your stomach with his thumbs, watching your cute lil’ belly button dip and contract as he feels his own length through the walls of muscles plunging into you even deeper.

The room feels like a sauna now as hot sweat drips from Nanami's face onto yours and he's biting his lip in order to keep from drooling onto you and losing complete control.

The unintentional consequence of it all is that he’s riled himself up beyond reason—his grip on control slipping fast. He meant to fuck you into submission, but the moment he sheathed his cock in your fertile, gooey heat, he lost—completely pussy drunk.

So utterly obsessed with the way your body is already changing, softening, ripening to carry a child, he hasn’t even fucked a confession out of you yet and he just might cum any second now.

Yet Nanami can't stop to edge you now even if he wanted, it would be far more impossible for him—not when your womb is so ripe, so warm and fertile—is just begging to be impregnated.

You can feel Nanami's thick cock pulsing hard against your walls as he grinds deeper against your cervix, his hands finally leaving your stomach to grip your ass, angling your hips up off the bed in the most perfect way to directly shoot his seed into you.

Willing your eyes open, you catch a glimpse of just how pussy drunk Nanami is at the moment. Head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and using your pussy like a personal fleshlight. Squeezing down on him tighter you feel the blunt edges of his nails dig deeper into your ass cheeks.

Did your plan work after all?

He certainly didn't look like a man ready to pull out right now.

Wanting to seal the deal, you bite your lip, timing your finisher for the exact moment your orgasm crests—when your pussy clenches down around him, vice-tight and trembling with need.

Your hands hover instinctively over your womb, drawing his gaze as your squeaky moans grow needier, slurred with pleasure.

“S’ohhh g-good K-Kennn!”

One hand leaves the soaked bedsheets to trace a shaky finger down your sweat-slicked belly, circling right over where you want it most—right over your womb.

“C-Cum in me… right here D-Daddy, kay?”

And yeah. That did it.

Nanami growls as he cums hard—buckets spilling deep inside you, cock twitching violently with each pulse of white-hot fluids painting your walls and filling your belly.

You’d never called him Daddy before now.

Nanami suspected it sat on the tip of your tongue, but you’d always held back—too shy, too coy. Not anymore. Now, you’re debased, ruined, fucked down to your rawest instincts of procreation.

It’s not the full confession Nanami craved, but it’s close enough—for now.

Your own release detonates in pulsing waves from the pleasure of feeling him cum inside. Electric sparks shatter through you as stars bloom behind your eyelids. Heavily panting, your body is utterly spent beneath Nanami, still gushing around his cock—grasping his length so tight you nearly push him back out. 

Yet Nanami’s cock still nestled deep in your swollen, oversensitive pussy that is greedy for more, spasming and milking every drop of his load, your womb refusing to let a drop go to waste. You’re so deliriously happy at the thought of being pregnant from this—so absolutely cock-drunk—that if you could catch your breath, you’d giggle.

Nanami watches you struggle to even move, your chest rising and falling in uneven pants, and fuck, he feels it again—that deep, gut-level need to keep you here, keep you stuffed, keep you full. He already knows one load isn’t enough, not when you’re still squeezing around him, like your pussy doesn’t want to let him go either.

Yet relcutantly Nanami presses a kiss to your damp forehead before pulling out with a wet, obscene squelch, groaning as his cum leaks out of your twitching hole, pooling between your folds like it belongs there. He admires it for a moment, pushing a little back in before going to the adjoining bathroom to get a warm cloth to wipe you down. 

When Nanami returns, you whimper at the sensation of the terry cloth brushing over your still-hypersensitive skin. Nanami wipes you down gently, though a knowing smirk tugs at his lips when you squirm and swat his hand away the moment he dares to touch between your legs.

“No, m’too sensitive…” 

You pout, squirming away from the damp cloth.

In truth, it’s not just the sensitivity—you just don’t want him wiping away any precious lil swimmers that might still be making their way to your womb.

“Just my legs and tummy are fine, Daddy…”

Nanami suppresses a smirk, already knowing why. 

“No problem, my love.” 

Humming softly, Nanami kisses your ankle as he finishes and folds the washcloth away.

You smile a sweet sheepish smile at him.

“Oh and um, m’kinda hungry too…”

God, you’re spoiled rotten.

Nanami knows it’s sill much too early, even after a good fuck for you to be hungry.  You’re just trying to get rid of him. He knows exactly what you’ll do the moment he’s out of sight—he’s nearly walked in on you doing it before. Just like always, you’ll prop your legs up against the headboard, ever the superstitious little thing. 

Nanami huffs a quiet laugh, already picturing it: you, still trembling, your pussy leaking and twitching, wearing that blissed-out, cumdrunk smile better than the finest couture gowns he’s bought you. 

But you won’t do it until he leaves—you never do. 

So with one last glance over at his shoulder at your beautifully fucked out form on the bed, he runs a hand through his sweat-dampened hair and heads toward the kitchen.

Nanami’s determined to feed you regardless of if you're actually hungry. If you’re planning to raise his child, you’ll need your strength—and any chance to nourish you, he’ll take it.

And you need your supplement too, just to give nature a little extra push.

It’s Saturday, so this time he’ll mix it into the pancake batter. Nanami will bring you breakfast in bed, making sure you eat every last bite—none the wiser—while sipping the fresh juice he always makes just for you. All the while, he’ll be stretching out your sore, well-used limbs beneath the sheets.

Because Nanami isn’t actually going to let you leave the bed anytime soon.

He’s going to fuck at least three more loads into you before noon, after all.

Plenty of time to drag that confession out of you—make you admit you’ve been trying to get pregnant all along.

And if you don’t? Well.

Nanami smiles to himself, flipping the stove burner on.

You’re not leaving that bed until you do.

꒰ა a/n ໒꒱ : wanted to get this out before i left but it didn't work out. im actually on the plane rn. sorry if there are errors I will fix when i get some downtime. landing in amsterdam then 4hr layover until we get to portugal! follow me over on my main/personal @punanami if you want updates on that.

please reblog and leave me nice comments to look at while im on vaycay <3

[kooyabooya]

PURITIES, IMPURITIES

yunjin & kazuha x m reader

31k words

Alright - this is kind of one of those cliché, freeze-frame moments from those sitcoms that puts you right in the middle of the action, or- when you wake up with a pounding headache of hangover after having an apocalyptic night out and somehow everything you’re trying to remember is nothing but a complete blank. 

Yunjin sells the part right away, groggily after waking up saying: “God, can you believe what the hell happened last night?” 

Sadly, you don’t recall it from the get go. 

Kazuha’s body curling the pillow serves as the first piece of information at the scene of the crime: your bed. 

“She’s gonna give us an earful of this when she's up,” you say. “We’d be lucky if she’s in a good mood by then.” 

“There’s nothing to freak out about,” and Yunjin’s reassurance gives you a warming glimmer of hope. “I’ll tell you this. She came to me, first.” 

“Are we talking back then or earlier?” 

Yunjin slaps your arm, laughing. She’s aware that the inquiry was entirely rhetorical, a minor press to her buttons. Her thumb rubs Kazuha’s temple, moving a few strands of messy hair away from her face. Bright rays of sunlight breaking through the drapes and the evidence is riddled all over her: the marks, the dry streaks of cum at her legs, sweat glistening across her skin. Your mental checklist is filling up by the minute. 

“To be fair,” and it’s a realization to be made: “She did ask for this.” 

“Yes," Concurs Yunjin. "Yes she did.” 

–

Let’s summarize it like this: post-grad life is absolutely no joke. 

Your realization of this has been deeply humbling. 

And you’re reminded, again - from one of your friends who’s on the same boat as you: taking things day by day is always the way to go, don’t ever forget that. 

It sounds easier said than done. 

The lovely chime of the lock popping out from its hole plays a nice tune of pomp and circumstance, your humble abode of trinkets and gadgets and items greeting you a ‘welcome home!’ after a long day of work. It’s worth noting: you’re not actually working - not yet, but the job search in the pool has been quite dry. 

You sigh, get your shoes off at the doorstep, and toss your jacket on the nearby chair you lay your eyes on. 

When you finally hobble over to the couch, Yunjin appears right on cue; half hair up, half down, fresh out of the shower and in one of your shirts. You know her schedule by heart: the day was Thursday, which meant that she was out for a pickleball run with Somi and Giselle who convinced her to give the sport a try. She had some prior experience with tennis, so most of the skills easily transferred over. Talk about being multi-talented. 

“Hey,” she greets, tapping your thigh as a signal to give her some space on the seat. “Long day today? 

“Yeah,” you say, rubbing the sleepiness off your face and graze your thumb on the top of Yunjin’s thigh. “Nothing much to report- oh. I managed to get a callback from that one place I told you about last week.” 

“The start up Sian’s working in? Any good news?” Her voice lights up in excitement, brows elevated and head at an angle like a golden retriever. “I thought that place was only fifth in your options.” 

“It was, but figured that I’d work backwards on the list from bottom to top.” 

Yunjin smirks, nails to your knuckles, tic bouncing off her tongue, agreeing. “What an innovator.” 

“A different angle,” you laugh, “Worth giving it a try.” 

“We all have to start somewhere,” she tells you, voice light-hearted and calming. “Besides, life isn’t a linear graph that one follows. Everybody has their ups and downs they don’t want to admit.” 

She does have a point, so you nod. 

“Don’t be discouraged if there’s no results right away,” she adds on, lifting her hand up for you to momentarily give you a handshake as if she was your brother or something, curling your fingers with hers before ending it off with the pull down, gently slapping your cheek to force a smile out of you. Yunjin’s got all the remedies you can ask to boost your mood up, no point arguing otherwise. “You also said that you didn’t like the one other place second on your list.” 

“That cafe would be nice. Can finally cross off how to make the perfect matcha drink, too,” you reply, sitting up and sliding your arm across her waist, bringing her closer. 

“Mhm,” she hums, smiling the more she leans into your touch. If there was anything that you know very well to do: is how easily it is for her to let these things slide - more so like you can literally sweep her off her feet and suck the life out of her, without having the guilt lingering whatsoever. She’s so agonizingly pretty in your eyes and the fact she can say some of the coolest things in her perspective about life because she realizes that it cuts both ways. You could listen to her talk smart all day, until she plays into the dirty ditz where it gets closer to one familiar end far faster than you would like to admit. “I’ll say this compliment, then: you already have the best cup of coffee in town,” Yunjin says, a smirk with a chin lifted up and your tongue pressing the inner side of your lip. Her gaze goes hazy, and the half-lidded eyes coming from you really sends the message either way. “I actually like the whole package you’re selling. It’s sweet.” 

“You think of me as sweet? I guess so too.”

“That’s not the only thing sweet about you,” says Yunjin, palming your crotch and scratches the fabric, her breath at your teeth. “You’re dangerous.”

“Jen, what are you trying,” you chuckle, slow and low; the tone like you’re wanting to find something without putting too much force into suspicion. “Need I remind you that you were almost late to practice earlier?” 

As Yunjin bites her lip at the lean in, only to be interrupted by the same chime at the door. A second later, the sound gets replaced by another girl’s huff, keys jangling and boots clattering on the floor before making their way further into the apartment. Both of you look towards her direction out of curiosity. 

“Back already, Zuha?” Yunjin asks, leaning out more to the point she’s almost perpendicular to the seat of the couch, “How’d the hair appointment go?” 

“Good!” Kazuha beams, shrugging off her handbag and straightening her denim jacket outshined by her new color of hair - she mentioned it in the group chat between you three with a picture of her head wrapped up in tinfoil, so the input paid off. “Thought it would take longer, but I really like this shade much more than the blonde I had a year ago.” 

“Oh god,” you breathe, “I can’t stress how much I hated the blonde shade back then.” 

Kazuha’s brows crinkle, lips inward. She doesn’t want to admit it herself, but she did say her blonde hair wasn’t the right choice. “Dickhead. I thought I told you to take that opinion outside.” 

“I’m not going to apologize for saying what’s right.” 

“Guess I don’t have to ask you what you think about my hair and go directly to Yunjin instead.” 

“Ash blonde is more of your style, Kazuha,” you admit, Yunjin also agreeing with a little nod of her own. “If you were to ask me, I’d prefer this one over the blonde you had from last year.” 

“He does have a valid reason,” Yunjin adds, palm to your chest when she stands up from the couch with a water bottle in her hand from the table. Tosses it towards Kazuha who catches it without an issue. “You staying in or stopping by tonight?” 

Kazuha chugs half the bottle down, smacks her lips soon after. “Got an hour to chill, told Saku and Chaewon we’re eating out tonight. Since Sakura’s boytoy leaves tomorrow to-” 

“Study abroad,” you input, “I remember she was talking to me about him a few weeks ago.” 

“So no more dick for me or her,” Kazuha says. 

“You’re serious,” you say back. “Dude.” 

Kazuha twists her face, hands wrapped tighter around the plastic. “Dude. It is serious. A total loss for the home team.” 

“He wasn’t even your boyfriend to begin with.” Yunjin butts in, almost ad-libbed. 

“That’s what makes it fun!” 

“This girl can’t be helped,” Yunjin, shifting her attention to the cutting board of chicken and vegetables. “Sucks for her to be put out of commission all because she can’t get her pussy filled up this weekend.” 

“I heard that, bitch.” Kazuha yells deep in the hallway. “Why don’t you tell Chaewon while you’re at it too with her boyfriend.” 

You laugh at the annoyance Kazuha has in her voice. Yunjin rolls her eyes and wheels around in the kitchen. The pair part ways into doing their own activities around the place and that’s really the end of that. There’s a sense of comfort you find yourself in within these walls. When the world outside you doesn’t swing the way you want it to, it’s always nice to lay back and relax - save the problems of today to tomorrow. You lace your fingers together, put them over your waist and cross your ankles up to the armrest, closing your eyes.

“I’ll be here,” you’re saying aloud, a usual announcement during these hours: “Wake me up when the food’s ready, or if Kazuha leaves, whichever happens to come first.” 

–

Among the never ending loop of emails, interviews, and outings at different food spots to brush up the resume, you’re getting sick and tired of the daily activities as a whole. You’re doubtful, like a running inside joke you’re not in on. 

You tell Yunjin about the struggles, to which she tells you: “there’s no such thing as mistakes in a plan that’s meant for you, babe.” God bless her, the literary ability this woman has reminds you again as to why she wanted to be an english teacher or writer. Hell, philosophy might’ve been her forte, but it’s another debate topic to save for later. 

Kazuha’s outlook is a bit more abrasive; more real and a little less innocent, doesn’t mince her words at all. “Look, I know we give much shit between us at times,” she blurts out on a random afternoon, “but I think those people who do the hiring don’t know what you’re capable of yet, and it angers me about them not caring about you.” 

“Didn’t think you’d have the heart to say that to my face.” 

Kazuha squints, confused. Yunjin looks up from her book, eavesdropping. 

“If we’re being honest,” Kazuha continues with a wave of her hand. “this is basically like you getting me through college apps back in senior year, me having the breakdowns on a nightly basis because you shat on my essays being complete trash-” 

“Somewhat relevant, yes. Still isn’t as close to what I feel.” 

Ever since graduation (and even before then), the pair have gotten used to each other in no time flat. Yunjin eventually had to end the lease on her apartment at the beginning of summer and it was a no brainer when you popped the question of moving in. They both have similar tastes, similar styles - the list goes on and on. But hey: two of the hottest girls on campus are living with you and every time someone brings it up you just give them a shrug. 

(The non-verbal message presents itself like it’s no big deal. 

Or one quiet way of answering: ‘fuck you, stay out of my business’.)

Yujin closes her book and treats herself to the cup of tea on the table. “It’s pretty much a similar experience across the board, no need to overcomplicate it.” 

You check your phone with the same kind of energy in receiving a text. Quick skim here, no luck. “Whoopty-fucking-do, still no message back from Minnie about the software position.” 

“No stress babe, it’s Friday night after all.” 

“I’d text her personally to see if there’s any hold up, rush the process a bit.” Kazuha suggests. 

You pull your lip. “I could, but what do you want me to do? It’s not my fault that the job market and economy as a whole is in shambles, toying with the idea of teasing me like it’s some ‘will they, won’t they’ kind of situation. But seriously-” and here your hands are in your face in a small sign of frustration, “it’s a bit discouraging on the latter when I could be spending my time on-” 

“Pressure isn’t a good look on you,” Kazuha tuts, snorting. She reclines back on the seat, sliding her heels on the floor, “I’m sure someone will swoop you on their ship sooner or later. The strategy here is just sit and wait, taking into account the number of places you dropped by today and they can’t look at the CV the moment you hand it to them. Ever heard the saying: “Rome wasn’t built in a day?” 

“Classic for the kids.” Yunjin recites, hands bracing her chin. “Patience is always the everlasting virtue.” 

“Both of you are dead last in lecturing me about practicing a positive mindset.” 

Here they laugh in midst of deliberation. Because Yunjin’s shaking her head while Kazuha’s turning her attention away to something that isn’t on you. The heat starts to rise on your face in embarrassment. Yunjin’s gaze lowers on Kazuha as she crosses her arms, fingers tapping along the opposite limb, sharing the same look before she looks over to you once again. Silence fills the table for a moment until Kazuha’s phone vibrates on the table, prompting her to swipe it off the surface and check the notifications in mere milliseconds. 

Kazuha’s eyes briskly shimmers from the screen, face lighting up once she’s finished reading. “Oh shit,” she breathes. “I forgot I was going out with Sakura tonight.” 

“Where to this time?” 

“Eunchae’s,” she answers, briskly standing up and typing her life away. “Just a quick outing, doughnut run, nothing too big. Yunjin, you still coming?” 

“Can’t.” Yunjin yawns. “Tired and plus I had a movie date planned with this one,” she says with a head bob towards you. 

“Ew- gross,” Kazuha mutters. You look at her dumbfounded while Yunjin smirks. “Whatever, enjoy your impromptu movie date.” 

“Prayers up for the dick that’s about to cross paths with you,” you remark over your shoulder. “Whoever’s the lucky one to bend you over tonight, I’ll drink to that too.” 

Kazuha smacks your head then walks away. “I’ll take that same fucking bottle when I come back and smash it over your head.” 

“Ouch.” Yunjin sighs, putting on her glasses and stretching. “I’ve been telling you it’s a lost cause for her.” 

“Hey. That’s her problem, not mine.” 

–

Kazuha’s problems, whether you like it or not, usually end up becoming yours. 

Not that it’s her fault or anything. The girl just spills out one word and it turns into a never ending ramble of sentences. 

Fifteen minutes have passed since dinner, for the ones who are curious - fifteen minutes of valuable time lost in Kazuha’s eyes because she can’t seem to get her life together when it comes to proper efficiency. You and Yunjin are bundled up on the couch, watching some dating series on netflix that’s been all the rage across social media. The cast upon preliminary assessment are all attractive - some with a stronger bias than others, but you deduced Yunjin’s opinion was much more important than what’s happening on screen. 

Self-insertion is a matter of conceptual perspective, is what she’s trying to tell you. 

“All I’m saying is-” she groans after your pitiful laugh, “we put ourselves in that scenario, and I guarantee the ratings would go up.” 

“Pretty high pedestal you’re putting me there,” you comment. 

Yunjin slaps your shoulder and gawks at you, playfully offended. “Oh please, if you didn’t take me to paradise, how else would you make your case compared to the other good looking guys?” 

“Don’t need to, since I’ve already got you.” 

She coos at the remark, laughing at you playing it off in the coolest way imaginable. It’s cringy, but who the fuck cares? The fact that she agrees with the statement only solidifies the pull you have on her. A win-win situation. 

“What about Kazuha?” Yunjin follows up shortly after. “I think she’d be a great fit there.” 

“If I were one of the guys on that show and she was one of the contestants, I’d try everything to date her in a heartbeat,” you tell her. 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

“Really what?” Kazuha walks in a second after your reply, with a zip-up to her frame and peeping over to see what was on the screen. “I heard my name down the hallway.” 

“Oh nothing, Zu,” answers Yunjin, waving her hand to shoo her off. “We were just saying that you’d be a great addition to the dating show cast. I can’t lie, some of the guys in this are super hot.” 

“Ahem,” you cough. 

“Shut up,” Yunjin says. “You were literally just telling me that you’d date Kazuha if you had the chance.” 

“Never in a million years,” you hear Kazuha say, disgusted. “That can of worms stays shut for a reason.” 

“A fun topic to talk about,” you’re laughing out loud again, shaking your head. Kazuha squints her eyes and her lips are spread wide in annoyance. A common expression she does whenever she can’t comprehend the bullshit coming out of your mouth at times - for most occasions is all sarcasm and nothing more. “You may not like it, but who’s living with who here, hm?” 

“I’ll kick your ass again if I have to,” Kazuha chuckles - a tilt of her head to keep it subtle, but you know well she intends that. 

you say

“Can’t beat my ass if you haven’t gone out yet,” you retort, pursing your lips. Kazuha glances at the clock and realizes what time it was, cursing under her breath. She shoves a hand in her pocket and bolts for the door, throwing up a peace sign to you and Yunjin, letting you both know she’s finally on her way out. 

“Bye Zuha, have fun!” Yunjin yells in a light tone.

“Don’t burn the place down until I get back, but the noise complaints are fine,” Kazuha says, slotting herself through the door the next second, into the cold. 

–

“That girl with the dark blonde hair looks like Kazuha,” Yunjin tells you, pointing at the screen. She’s right. The one on the show appears to be at the right height, similar body build, not to mention the abs highlighted from her swimsuit. “I’m telling you, it’s a carbon copy.” 

It’s been a little over an hour since Kazuha left, maybe more - you haven’t been keeping track, really. The episodes and runtimes are starting to mesh together to the point where Yunjin’s starting to get other ideas with that mischievous hand of hers, working at your shorts. 

“She’s hella popular with the others - so you might be right, considering Kazuha’s the mix of an extroverted introvert,” you say, paying no attention to the slip of Yunjin’s hand into your boxers, fingers snaking the length. She can feel you getting hard. 

You’re on the same wavelength as Yunjin: hand trailing up her thigh, thumb and index pinching the waistband of her panties beneath the blanket before curling your fingers across the fabric, hearing a hitched breath. 

“There’s no way they don’t hook up while recording, right? Like- the fuckable scales are off the charts,” she assesses, squirming her hips to the fingers circling over her clothed clit. She cocks her head as you pull your lips inward, trying to see the transmitting message in her eyes. 

You press a little further in at the opening, feel the dampness spread across. Oh yeah, she’s soaking them. 

“We wouldn’t know, per se, since the whole point of inferno is all about exclusivity. Getting to know the person without any outside distractions, that kind of thing,” you conclude. You’re paying more attention to your hand than the show. 

“Them having sex on camera would be so normal,” Yunjin says, a word slips out but her mouth forms to something else when you slip a finger inside without a warning. “So normal.”

“You’d be right.” 

“Definitely,” she breathes and it’s heavy. This segment has been slowly building in the background; the part where few words are said and relied more on the action: Yunjin’s thumb presses down on the head of your cock and grips around it, languidly stroking; your breathing stops for a moment, bobbing the air down your throat, coming up with a proper response, ending with nothing. You can feel your lower body tense and relax with the ticks of the clock, an indicator for what’s about to happen if you keep this up. You don’t fight it - nor want to, since you’re both well aware that the teasing is a better way to eat up the time with your bodies rather than everything else. 

It’s only natural to do things like these. You’d always make time for being horny. 

Before you know it, your shorts are on the floor. The same could be said with her panties, tossed away to a corner in the room for you to ask yourself “well how the fuck did that get there?” later when the damage has been done. Her shirt’s being held up by her teeth and you’re taking all the sights of her upper half uncovered past her shirt. Nothing but porcelain skin and amber nipples waiting to be marked up and bitten. Your hips get put in place and your mouth is taken over by Yunjin’s, feeling the glide of her folds across your cock and the slickness of her cunt on your fingers, smearing her thigh. 

Her breath is warm, just like her face; mouth hung open when she settles her pussy on your shaft. She finds joy in the loose and unraveling expressions: all wide-eyed and nowhere else to go. Your head falls back once the grip registers in the nerves. 

All in the rise and fall of her hips. She’s gyrating them as a test like it’s a given - which it is. She loves it when you’re raring to go, dicking her hips down or fucking herself on your cock. It’s all the same. 

“Babe,” she whispers into your ear. The blanket uncovering your lower halves, barren skin now out to the open air. “I want it.” 

Fuck, she could meet you halfway with the wetness of her pussy and already be there. You hold her hips and waist steady and she begins to ride. 

–

Here is where the story - or rather, the ordeal - truly unravels. As Anakin Skywalker famously declares on the glowing screen before the darkened room: ‘This is where the fun begins.’

You’re woken up to the incessant buzzing of your phone on the nightstand, blinded by the glare of the television, drowsy as fuck, and slightly sweating. You also don’t even bother looking at the time because your lock screen is basically a flashbang of your selfie with Yunjin even with the caller ID blurring it. It’s from an unknown number (it isn’t but you can barely see as it is) and even if you’re entertaining the idea of not answering it, you do anyway. 

“Hello?” Your voice graveled and deep, clearly tired. “Who is this?” 

“Oh, you’re Yunjin’s boyfriend, right?” The girl on the other end asks. Her voice is surprisingly masculine. You would’ve mistaken her for a guy in that case. The line goes quiet for a few seconds, afraid that she possibly called the wrong number. “You sound like Yunjin’s boyfriend. By the way, it’s Eunchae.” 

Crap, you remember that Kazuha was with her for tonight’s activities. Wondering what the hell happened this time for her to call instead of Sakura as the usual standby. 

“We have a situation here,” she continues, mouth ticked with a hint of annoyance. “Kazuha’s hammered and Sakura’s getting her business on with some guy out in the alleyway. Told me to call you if she didn’t come back in five minutes. And it’s been more than five minutes.” 

“Shit, I didn’t think it’d be that serious.” 

“The fuck were you expecting?” 

“I dunno- just a simple doughnut dine and dash? Neither of them told me about a party.” 

“That’s because the two of them tagged along with the guy they met there and it’s been downhill ever since. I wanna go home.” 

Can’t help but feel bad for Eunchae, since you were in her shoes before. 

“Mind hurrying it up a bit? I can hear Sakura’s moaning behind me and it’s looking like she won’t be going home tonight.” 

You scratch the back of your head, raking off the sleepiness before rubbing your eyes. “Alright, be there in a few. Where do you want to meet?” 

“I’ll send my location, my house isn’t far from here.” 

–

In a slight reiteration, you’ve become used to Kazuha’s antics. 

Kazuha brings in Sakura and her plus one late at night, you know how that goes; Kazuha can’t decide which top goes well with her loose pants for the grocery run; Kazuha procrastinates on some of the chores around the apartment and leaves you alone to pick up her slack. She smacks your ass for fun and runs away into her room - goes to show the years of friendship you have between you two. When you’re up late studying for midterms or finals, the noise cancelling headphones serve well to block out the sounds of Kazuha touching herself -or, the fact that you’re putting her pile of laundry on her bed and it’s riddled with the assortment of playboy magazines, dirty clothes, and the vibrator (which you don’t question) next to it. She’s an agent of chaos. A perfect anthesis to your very livelihood. 

It’s certainly no exception when you mentally add alcohol into the mix. 

“Do I want to know how she ended up like this?” You ask Eunchae upon arriving, kneeling down to a slumped Kazuha against the brickwall on the sidewalk - hand to the back of her head to get a better look of her drunk gaze: one eye open and giggling like an idiot, her words slurring. 

“She literally grabbed the first beer handed to her when we got here,” Eunchae replies, showing you a picture of the moments before disaster. “I thought she was a heavy weight.” 

“Depends on what they were passing out in that party.” You move Kazuha’s head around to ensure nothing happened to her. So far: face blushed with pink, a lazy eye, messy hair and sweaty skin. But most importantly: no marks. “Did Saki tell you to stick with her while at the party?” 

“Yes, she did.” 

“Well that’s the good news,” you’re saying to yourself. Kazuha might be a pain in your ass, but she is your longtime friend, after all. Like anyone else, you’d go the extra mile to keep an eye out for her. 

You then glance back at Eunchae, her shadow casted by the glare of the overhanging streetlight, arms crossed with the light tap of her foot. Her thumb subconsciously swipes the phone screen as you both look at Kazuha when she snorts, playfully hitting your arm. 

“She’ll be fine,” you softly say, hoisting Kazuha’s arms over your shoulders and adjusting her on your back. “Given the fact that Sakura’s getting her fuck-fix for the weekend, I’ll leave that be.” 

“Mhm, girl’s a piece of work,” Eunchae concurs, lashes fluttering in the dim lighting, air to the left side of her cheek. “And here I thought we were getting our box and heading back home but-” she then motions a hand to Kazuha murmuring behind you. “-this shit unfolded and, yeah.” 

“The regular stuff,” you admit, because it really is. You twitch your head the opposite way from the house party. “My car’s this way, I’ll drop you off on the way back.” 

–

(Dealing with a drunk Kazuha in the car was simple math: 

Make sure she’s comfy, for one. Recline the seat all the way back since her feet will most likely end up on the dashboard for another. And almost beating every red light at the intersections so that she doesn’t get cranky with all the stops and turns for the third note. 

A long list and every contingency written in the book: you know her that well.) 

–

3:00 in the morning is usually classified as ‘primetime hours’ for Kazuha. 

Except for tonight. 

You’re running through the standard procedure: get out the car, walk up the stairs, hook a right, second door past the balcony. 

Left shoulder, right shoulder, right foot up, then left; fix Kazuha’s weight on your backside so you don’t throw your back out early, lean a little too forward she’ll fall right off, look back when she’s secure. 

For a girl like her to be 5’7” and 105 pounds, it doesn’t add everything up in your head. She’s humming a song - the lyrics incoherent, tone consistent - then all of a sudden she yelps in surprise. Keep her quiet - a fifth noise complaint from the neighbors in the span of three days was not on the agenda for this week. 

She smacks your head, half awake. “Hey, how did I get home? Put me down.” Kazuha pushes herself off, landing on her feet with a stumble, prompting you to hover your hand to her waist so that she doesn’t lose balance. It’s 3 in the fucking morning and Kazuha’s drunk out of her goddamn mind. “Wait, when did you get here?” 

“I drove us,” you tell her, moving her arm over your shoulder and walking her towards the door. “Looks like you had fun tonight.” 

“I did,” Kazuha hiccups, blinking slowly. “Super fun time.” Her gaze freezes. You can’t tell if she’s grumpy or plain tired (trick question: it’s the second answer); she then closes her eyes with that neat, flat eye smile of hers to where you see the slightest dimple on her face. You could imagine the stars shimmering over her head. Kazuha has so many spirit animals that you could pair her up with, but if you had to choose one- 

“Ehe-” she giggles, staggering her right foot before readjusting her balance, doing the same laugh again. 

(She would definitely be a samoyed.)

So you stifle a laugh and close your mouth, opening the door. 

You’re leading the way back into the apartment while Kazuha tries to walk on her own. She fails. Her forearm bracing the doorway while you shift your body back around out of concern. Her body lurches forward like she just went twelve rounds in a boxing ring, fatigued. She straightens herself up with a hand on top of her head, chin tilted higher when she leans forward, about to fall. Like any other caring friend would do in this situation: you catch her. 

“Easy, easy.” You hold yourself steady, accepting the weight. Or- when you’re stumbling too and shuffle your feet for proper placement. “You said you didn’t drink that much, tell me the truth.” 

Kazuha hums, mindlessly bobbing her head in the form of a yes. 

Her gaze is sleepy. Both of your hands are at her shoulders, keeping her upright. Kazuha’s zip-up slips off her shoulder, exposing her collarbone, covering the tubetop she was wearing with a set of underwear you haven’t seen before. Probably new, you assume. “Kazuha, stand up straight for me, please?” 

“Mmkay,” she slurs. 

“Think you can walk back to your room by yourself?” 

“Nope.” Kazuha beams with her head to the left. 

You sigh. Pat the side of her face to wake her up a bit. “Guess you can’t be helped.” A hand’s extended like a peace offering. “C’mere, I’ll take you there right now.” 

“If you take good care, I’ll let you fuck me.” 

Oh, hell no- 

You weren’t prepared for this kind of Kazuha at all. There was no plan. Not even a proper response in your head could cover for it. 

Kazuha being drunk was always the marker for attention. Put her with the right people (like Sakura, Chaewon, even fucking Yunjin), and it’s guaranteed to be a never ending stream of laughs throughout the day and into the night. Not one second goes by when you’re out with friends to look over the shoulder and see the most questionable acts coming from her that twists the creases across your face and forces you to bear no mind to what’s happening behind you; stay focused now, ask questions later. When you do bring up the topic, it gets brushed over and eventually ignored. You have so many ‘why’s’ as it is, but you find it best to save it for the morning. 

“Kazuha, you’re clapped. There’s no way you just asked me to-” 

“But I’ll be good for you. C’mon, don’t you think I should repay you in some way?” 

“You getting sleep right now will be good for me. Now let’s go, I’m tired as it is-” 

Her arms wrap around your shoulder and middle lazily. You can’t afford to handle another minute of this nonsense and just get your ass back to bed. That alone should be a right in itself, but this girl won’t fucking let go. 

Next thing you know, her lips graze the bottom of your neck before resting on your collarbone. Your name is heard into your shirt, and you huff in annoyance. Plus, your voices could be a little louder than usual since Yunjin’s a heavy sleeper. At this point, you’ve had enough: so you slip your fingers into Kazuha’s hair and yank her head back to see her face wince at the sudden pain. There’s no shame when you see her biting her lip, half-lidded eyes gazing with no care of the lust behind them. “Just help me to my room, I promise not to give you trouble. I owe you. Need to thank,” she mumbles, licking her lips. “I’ll be a good girl.” 

“Christ- Kazuha, we’re not doing this.” But talking to her while she’s intoxicated isn’t going to do you any good. 

Now you carry on, dragging her closer to the room, ignoring the assault of mindless kisses she’s placing all over your neck. She ups the ante when her hand palms your sweats, trying to play it off in standing upright. 

“Jesus- Kazuha,” you angrily swear, similar to all the times she pissed you off.

“What? You don’t like that?” Kazuha asks, lips parted when she rests her fingers at your crotch. 

“Fucks sake, no.” 

“Aw come onnnn,’ she whines, trilling the last bit of the words. “Yunjin always has her fun, why can’t I?” 

“Because I said no.” 

“You won’t even let me suck you off? What if I just wanna stay here and sit so I can do that?” 

You can’t stand her being like this. 

“I always hear you and Yunjin getting it on in your room.” She leans on the wall next to the open door, curling her hand around your arm while the other doesn’t move. “How would it feel if I called you daddy again for once?” 

The scrunch in your nose shuts down the thought immediately. You’re sensible enough to not entertain the idea, despite how tempting it is. No. You know better. You know damn well what that shit does to you even if it slapped you in the face. No one casually spills the word ‘daddy’ like it’s nothing and expect no reaction. Her mind’s swimming in alcohol. You’re starting to wonder what the hell she drank at that party. 

“Again- God. Zuha.” You flicker your eyes into the void of the hallway. The nickname only comes up at times where she’s really getting on your nerves. “For the last time, you are getting your ass to bed and we’ll talk about it in the morning.” Kazuha winces at the sharp tone, realizing she’s overstepped her bounds. Bless the last bits of common sense she has left; you don’t know where you’d be if she didn’t use her brain cells for something else that required her to think. 

“Ugh, fine,” she tells you, and the tamped down ego in your head is satisfied in victory, stepping into her room. You hold her at the arms and help slip out of her jacket, tossing it on her chair as she does her part in sitting on the bed, waiting for you to lie her down. “I was hoping that you could fuck me.” 

“In your dreams,” you rebut firmly. 

Right before you walk away, Kazuha grabs your wrist. A few wisps of her hair fall over her forehead. “Wait,” she says, and that should’ve been the red flag to swipe your hand away from the imposing threat - a dangerous risk you’re not willing to take. You clench your teeth and swallow hard, with the slightest bit of pull in your arm. “At least-” 

You actually don’t move forward, but backward. 

“At least touch me, just this once.” Before you know what she’s doing, it’s already too late. Her hand guides yours to her thigh, working the curve of your thumb and index up her waist. Part of you is impressed at the amount of work she put in maintaining a chiseled frame, the muscle very much present the more your fingers press down on the skin. “For a little bit.” 

(Should’ve left the room when you had the chance.) 

Your eyes continue to gaze and drift all over Kazuha’s body, hand to her chest with the thumb curling below her breast. Her humming rumbles low, safe. It hadn’t been that long since she was out in the cold, but she’s surprisingly warm. 

She makes sure every single part of your hand feels it, flipping it over to the knuckles past her hips, fingertips making contact to the patterned lace of her panties - the fabric clearly damp when she starts to shift her hips at your touch. It’s all gone wrong - a mess, one really fucked up mess - her lower half continues to move with both of her legs pressing your hand in, holding you tight at her sensitive clit, the huffs rising and falling along with her chest the more she used your fingers to get herself off. 

Drunk Kazuha was easy to deal with. Sleepy drunk Kazuha was a cakewalk in caring for. But never in your years of knowing her where she would be like this. Let alone the fact you’re in a relationship with her best friend and you’re staring further and further away from the door towards freedom. 

The reality check will be cashed in once it’s all over.  

You say her name, which spills out in a stutter; your state of mind incomprehensible to the stacked hands working the heat and slick between Kazuha’s legs, head unable to stay still and lolling side to side, elbows digging into the mattress. 

How does she not feel embarrassed with what she’s doing? Sarcasm applied: how are you not ashamed of this? 

It hits you right then and there: in the retracted hand of yours, eliciting another small tantrum of Kazuha kicking and waving her arms like a kid. You take a second to pause, remember how you got here in the first place and why, clouded with anger and confusion, hindering a sizable amount of time to reflect. Soon, you found it best to retreat from the situation and into the kitchen, grab a glass of water and wash your hands to calm yourself. 

(Even as your thumb grazes the glass in a period of contemplating, the whole ordeal can't be swallowed down that easily, as much as you want it to. Not when you’re achingly hard in your sweatpants and that serves a few more strings of curses out your mouth.) 

One last thing that you could do before heading back to your room was set the small bottle of aspirin at the side of her bed for when she wakes up. Maybe convince her to use that body pillow of hers to mimic the warmth; you nod your head at the thought, it could work and it should. It’s been a few minutes since her mini breakdown and you assume that she’d be asleep by now. 

You couldn’t wait until the morning to tease her about being a horny drunk - worry about being her personal punching bag later. 

Apparently the teasing would have to wait. Because your personal ideal about Kazuha was about to be shifted again. 

The last thing you would’ve expected was for her to be sound asleep. Instead, she’s got her tube top up to her upper chest, one delicate hand furiously rubbing sloppy circles into her clit, the other gripping into the mattress as she’s on her knees, body pillow between her legs, grinding into the cushions. Her pants are at the foot of the bed, panties loosely around her right ankle. She’s an insufferable cocktease. 

It’s something straight out of your wet dreams, from a time when everything revolved around Kazuha. You’re sucked into an inescapable vacuum of thoughts you’d never think of again (with things like those, it’s all a lie, they always are). You can’t stop peering through the crack in the door, opening it wider to watch Kazuha grab a handful of her tit and ride her own hand. She’s too into it to pay attention to you, and you’re fighting every urge in the fingers sliding down your thigh, unable to move. 

She only seemed to have one thing on her lips, the only thing plaguing her intoxicated mind. The tube top at her pits and the gush of her cunt soaking up the last pillowcase, but you’re seeing it clear as day. 

You can’t help but think how good your name sounds on her lips. 

Kazuha then gropes both of her tits, pinching both buds of her nipples to keep her from stopping, finally figuring out that she can continue without the support, falling back on the bed, unfolding her legs like butterfly wings to reveal how wet she was. The small webbing of her slick coating her index and middle fingers, leaving more spots on the bed sheets beneath her. 

There’s a deathly, fucked up part of you in the back of your mind: that wants to give in to the temptation. Oh, you could give Kazuha the same treatment as Yunjin when you have her in a blithering wreck, fucking her full as she creams on your cock, grab her by the hair and press her to the closest thing nearby to reatalite on the slightly abusive attitude. Get your tongue all over her cunt like it’s the last meal you’d ever have on your knees and have her cumming and hands full of every single part of her body until she’s had enough (which will most likely be never in this case). The need for more is an absolute certainty, a greater purpose. You'll consciously be happier in being rough, be a pain in her ass (quite literally, sooner than you think), and completely forget about the resistance or consequences.

You’re holding yourself back for now, placing the water and two tablets of aspirin on the dresser, lean your shoulder to the door frame - inhaling and exhaling quietly to not make her realize you were still in the room. 

She doesn’t stop her fingers from dipping inside her leaking slit, wagging it across her folds with every passing shudder of her breathing, sinking it back in soon two digits at a time. Debauched, impure, sinful; you could go through the list of your lexicon to describe this present moment and still won’t give an explanation as to why you can’t look away. You watch as her eyes wander, flickering when she looks down and plop her head back on the pillow when the finger curl rubs at a sensitive spot.

And it’s almost instinctual, close to second nature: your hand tugging your dick out, paying close attention to how the slenderness of her hand widely spreading her pussy folds. How Kazuha wished her own hand was a dildo or a vibrator or your cock - they won’t stretch in the way she imagines it. 

The third finger she inserted was a good try, you’ll give her that. You can’t help but be enamored. 

Suddenly, she’s switching out names. First, your name and then Yunjin’s. That’s a new piece of information you’ll save for later. Ignoring the question of how weird because this was already fucking insane as it is; you’re slowly pumping your shaft in time with her upward thrusts, grip your shaft to mimic the pressure and emulate how the skin would be coated in her soaking wetness, listening closely to the squelching getting louder and louder it seems. 

Kazuha’s legs are flush against the mattress, as far as she could get them. She’s flexible enough to do it, opening up more room for her other hand to get a fill of her desperate cunt. A sweet view. You’re lucky to have witnessed it in real time. 

Shit, you’re silently cursing to yourself. Wishing that you would’ve abstained in committing such a wicked act. 

But you keep pumping, delusion plaguing your mind. You’re lost in the sights, the sounds, her face wobbling to more rapturous, tucking her hand and tilting her hips like those other guys have done to her, the heat tugging them tightly - God, she doesn’t let up with the lovely moaning. 

“Mmm, yes, right there-” 

Seeing Kazuha like this feels undeserved. 

“Please, please-” 

“What is it. Kazuha? Want some help there?” You ask mindlessly, slipping out of your sweats some more to open up your legs. 

And when she says your name again: “I need you here with me.” 

“I’m not far,” you answer, gaze crestfallen and wistful. 

You lower your guard when the rush of euphoria begins to spread within. The sensation of jerking yourself had the capacity to wear you out just how you wanted. Because of this, when you eventually look back up, you can see the glint of watered eyes watch across from you - in between the valley of her breasts, toned legs and reddened knees. “Look at you, so handsome,” she says, hand circling her clit faster. Harder. Fingers increasing in pace to match your strokes rather than the other way around. 

“Fuck, you look so good-” you grunt with buckling knees. A familiar, aching tension in your stomach, the pin rising to the peak in your balls. The wonders of having a pretty best friend. 

“Yeah?” she murmurs. “Like this? My pussy out wide open for you? Why don’t you walk back here and plug it up?” 

“No need. You’re doing good, so fucking good. I’ll keep myself here- holy shit.” 

“Would feel-” Kazuha wheezes, a relieving proposition. “Even better, with you.” She says it like it’s some forbidden truth. 

In an alternate reality, she’d be right. 

“Think so?” Jesus fucking christ, you’ve lost it. In the current affair, this is all that mattered. “You’d prefer my dick to split your guts up instead of your fingers?” 

“God, yes.” 

“Want me to take care of that pretty little cunt of yours?” 

Kazuha sighs once more, confirming the question for you. It didn’t take much to work her up in general; if you didn’t have the remaining ounces of common sense, you could’ve dropped your pants right at the door and get even more dirty with the arousal pouring relentlessly out of her stuffed hole. It wouldn’t be a bad idea right? Cleaning up her mess with your hands, your mouth, gurgle down the endless stream of her pussy where there’d be multiple threads dripping down her legs. Fucking hell, you really could if you wanted to. 

Though you don’t move a single muscle besides your hand. 

“C’mon, more. Just a little more,” she groans, breath hitching every other second. You can feel the air get tighter, the vibrations in your throat tremoring along with every tense fiber of muscle. Coming down to a fine point, overtaking you. 

You’re just as shameless as her. 

The piercing wail of your name off her lips sounds broken, eyes clenched shut when you finally fall off that peak. You cum all over your fingers, spurting and smearing across the skin - fuck, it comes in a panic when some of it spills on the hardwood, but you could care less since it blends in well with the color. How you managed to remain standing from your high was a mystery, knees bending forward while the twitching continued to pass.

Kazuha tenses her body from the erratic movement of her chest, struggling to calm down from her orgasm. Through your sated, lidded eyes, you watch her frame relax, head falling over to the side, hand plopping over to the edge like someone shot a bullet through her on the spot. 

“Kazuha.” You huff, hoping for a response. “Kazuha?” 

Yep, she’s knocked out. 

You take a minute or two to return to your senses, looking back at Kazuha’s body to ensure she was fast asleep. Staring at the gentle shift of her arm cuddling the pillow she just rode on, you found it best to let her deal with the clean up later in the morning when she’s fully sobered up. 

A really big ‘if’ for later: her remembering everything she did from last night. You’re swearing that it doesn’t happen - hoping you don’t breathe a word of what you’ve seen or did. 

(It would be a huge problem on your hands, and an even worse one if it becomes hers.) 

Fuck, she would be mortified. 

–

“You look like shit,” Yunjin tells you later that morning, chin perched up and eyes squinted. “Didn’t you and Kazuha come back together 30 minutes later?” 

“Something like that,” you sigh, giving up the effort in holding back your yawn. “Slow mornings are always harder than the actual day.” 

“Hangovers are never kind.” 

You shrug. “Some of us can handle it better than others.” 

Right on cue, you and Yunjin glance over to see a tired Kazuha sitting alone on one of the chairs near the kitchen. Her hoodie is up and both hands are on her face to hide the subtle cough. She looks like she could sleep for another eight hours after breakfast, and it most definitely could happen. The plate in front of her is cleaned off: holding the knife and fork, coated with syrup and clearly ran through. 

Yunjin gives you a look, probably along the lines of: ‘are you sure nothing bad happened to her?’ 

You purse your lips and open the fridge, with a cold water bottle now in your hand. 

From then on it’s a silent exchange: Yunjin walking over to Kazuha and caressing the back of her head, Kazuha looking and nodding to let her know she’s alright before going on with the rest of her unproductive day. 

As for your part: you slide the bottle over to her with two more tablets of aspirin for her to take. For insurance, you insist. She’s someone you know very well who can’t function properly unless there’s some sort of responsible figure who can facilitate and keep an eye on her condition. 

It isn’t like her to be awfully quiet at times, so you fill in that role of the opposite as needed. 

“How’s your head?” You ask, voice lowered that you don’t scare the poor girl. “Gotta say, I’m jealous you got better sleep than me for once.” 

Kazuha leans back on the chair with her eyes trained on you. The occasional beep of the smoke detector above goes on for a few seconds when you see the tip of her tongue peek out and runs it along her teeth, contemplating. 

“Better,” she says. Her first words of the day. A small win. “Thank you.” 

You nod in approval, poking her forehead for some fun. “Great. No going out for you today. Not until you’re back to normal. You know the rules.” 

The gentle clatter of the silverware along the plate compliments the soft scuffle of your feet along the floor. You’re not thinking too much about what happened last night, drawing up the conclusions that it was a one-time thing. Anything beyond that reason would bring in plausible deniability. 

But you carry on with the simple house chore with Kazuha unknowingly staring from behind: biting her lip. 

–

Ironic about the unproductive day, you do everything but that. 

Emails, papers, evaluations, your endless editing of the resume, the Spoitfy window with the classical music playlist, all of it eats up the time. With the occasional step out to grab some food or a cup of water - or maybe Yunjin piggybacking you as an attempt to get you away from the desk- 

“I know you big baby,” you wheeze, feeling Yunjin’s nose against the nape of your neck, “Just let me finish one more thing and then we can do something. Promise.” 

“You said that last time,” she groans, corralling her arms tighter on your shoulders, toes barely touching the floor, “Maybe I should change the password to your desktop so you don’t go to it first thing in the morning. It’s a dangerous addiction.” 

“It’s called a routine,” you rebuke. 

“I know your password,” argues Yunjin. 

“Might have to change it again.” 

She gets off when you settle back in the office chair, her arms still wrapped and pressing her lips on to your cheek, making you giggle at the sudden assault of touches. To her defense, they’re pretty effective - her way of swaying you to lose your concentration. You don’t think twice when she forces you to put down the phone before lunch or dinner, or when you’re out with friends and she thinks it would be a great idea to send you nudes knowing very well that it’s not meant to be seen publicly. Her hair starts to pool over your front, smelling like apple rose and aloe. “So you’re saying it’s not ‘huhyun108’? Are you serious?” And she’s got you all figured out - the many angles of pressure points to slowly give in towards. Picking and choosing her battles carefully, but you don’t go down from a fight that easily. 

“Gonna change it now, actually,” you say, fast tapping on the keyboard. “Find it best for you not to look.” 

Yunjin cackles as you’re pushing her face away, pulling the chair along with you. 

–

Yunjin doesn’t have to do too much: all it takes is one breath and a few sly words and she gets what she wants. 

She’s adamant with what’s hers: lipstick mark on your neck? That’s Yunjin. Her white scrunchie on deck at your wrist for when she can’t deal with her hair? Also Yunjin - supplying to the demand was always her kind of thing. 

It’s midweek, at the point in the day where things get stagnant and there isn’t anything of interest to note, the usual grace period where the thought of doing nothing is considered the best option. Yunjin keeps watching that same netflix series, dissatisfied with how the current season played out. To compensate: she rewatches the second season for the sixth time and her key point was the fact the two most popular contestants really hit it off, but never got together. 

That wasn’t the main concern, however. 

“She hasn’t been out of her room since yesterday,” Yunjin pouts, long legs stacked on top of yours and restraining. “I’m getting a little worried.” 

“I saw her go to the kitchen and back earlier,” you inform, tossing popcorn into your mouth. “She did have that pilates session around lunch. You know Zuha, and her cardio.” 

“That door’s been shut a little too long,” she mumbles, not entirely ruling out your observation. “I know that there’s the unspoken rule for privacy, but I’m genuinely curious what the girl’s been up to. She seems a bit-” 

“Closed off?” You fill in, completing the train of thought. “You may be right with that.” 

“Mmm,” Yunjin agrees. 

“Wait it out some more, then we’ll see what happens.” 

–

(You wonder a bit too much, and get caught off guard as a consequence. 

You haven’t moved from the couch, with Yunjin fast asleep at your side. The position so comfortable, you could honestly pass out here and wake up eons later - a tempting idea to entertain, and a plausible action to consider. 

Kazuha appears from the hallway, rubbing the tiredness off from her three hour nap. A bit bizarre to nap past 8 PM, but that’s her thing. Her shirt is so baggy that it covers some of her thighs, toes spread on the floor before she continues to make headway to the fridge. Hair frizzled in messy waves and moving gently in every step. 

So you initiate first, “Hey,” and you layer that with a lean back of the head of the couch so she can see you better in the dim light. “Everything good?” 

Kazuha twists her body towards your voice, gaze stoic and quiet, fingers twisting the bottle cap open and fiddling it around. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.” 

“Good to know,” and your words come casual. Unbothered. As if you heard enough to carry on and leave her be, aware that she’s able to interact again. “Happy to hear your voice, like alive- or something.” 

“You sound worried,” says Kazuha, cringing. “Ew, don’t do that. It’s weird.” 

She doesn’t know you can hear her snort from the couch. 

“But you are okay, right?” You ask again. Kazuha’s backside twisting once more to face you, blinking carefully. Her expression shifts to something more misty, unclear. All she gives is a nod and hum. Doesn’t say anything after. 

At least she tells you that much.)

–

Okay, it’s probably bad that you’re keeping an eye on Kazuha - reserving a spot in your head to revisit that night over and over. Maybe it means something, or it doesn’t. 

It really, really shouldn’t. Like at all. But the recurring thought fills your mind at some point between the passing days. 

“I’m heading out now.” Kazuha says to you sweeping through the kitchen, bag in hand and behind Yunjin. “Won’t be back until later probably.” 

“Where are you headed this time?” Yunjin leans over, resting her head. 

“Sakura called me to be her muse for her fashion portfolio. Said I fit the profile with the outfits she has in mind. Girl can crochet, but clothes? She has a really good fucking talent for them. I can see her go places.” 

“That’s our Saki,” Yunjin muses, hand up for Kazuha to acknowledge before making her way around the kitchen island, causing you to turn about face. She isn’t going to confront you about that (for God’s sake, you can’t stop thinking about it anyway), but rather stare you down because it’s the usual thing with her. 

It’s a little intimidating that she’s almost your height, with a body well maintained she could go twelve rounds if she wanted. Yunjin watches as Kazuha squints her eyes - works through the fridge for another cold bottle with her gaze trained on you. You and her exchange eyebrow expressions and read into the message through your eyes, Kazuha tilting her chin then breaking eye contact as you twist the other cheek. Next thing you know, her hand smacks your ass. 

“The fuck was that for?” You groan, clearly offended. “You’re the one who wanted the face-off.” 

“For being a dickhead,” Kazuha says with no color in her voice. “Also, thanks for saving me at the party while Sakura was getting railed outside. I owe you one.” 

“Amazing how you say things like that so casually,” you muse, cocking your head. “You’re welcome, I suppose.” 

Kazuha then flashes a look back with her hands now in the pocket of her hoodie. You can’t help but glance over to the defined frame of her face, the slope of her nose, her lack of makeup knowing very well that she’ll get a touch up from Sakura before the lookbook photoshoot. She’s painting a false picture with those baggy clothes she wears on a daily basis, but you and Yunjin are waiting to see the photos once they’re done. 

“Yunjin,” she says. 

“Hm?” Yunjin hums with food in her mouth. 

“Did I ever tell you about his decent looking face?” Kazuha concludes, tilting her head side to side for better angles. “Still a dickhead, though.” 

“Ha. Thanks.” 

She points her lips at you, a quirk of hers that she made as her habit. Her hand goes up in lieu of a goodbye and slides past the wall. 

–

“It’s hilarious because,” Yunjin catches herself mid snort, hand hiding her mouth, “The way they say Jurassic World is so funny to me. And the guy repeats it as ‘Jorassic Wurold’ like- the pronunciation is slightly off when he asks her about the movie.” 

You test the wording with your own mouth but emphasize on the syllables, trying to emulate what she observed from watching the other day. It distracts you from the assortment of ingredients spread out on the cutting table, falling into Yunjin’s shenanigans was always the daily driver no matter what the mood was on the hour. 

Midway through slicing some meats, you’re still practicing the wording on your lips. “Y’know, english is not everyone’s strong suit,” you tell her, portions set aside for some vegetables, leaning the other way to get a better view of your fingers, rolled up and not in the blade’s way, “gotta commend him keeping the conversation going. That takes effort.” 

Yunjin tilts the cup into her face, nodding in agreement; she’s got her legs crossed off the counter, feet pointed up when you glance back to see a hinted eyebrow. Bare face and long lashes fluttering - a light blush on her cheeks as she leans back and puts the bottom of the beverage upwards. 

She smacks her lips soon after, licking her teeth. “He was really into her, you saw it too.” 

The metal blade clacks against the wood. “Huh?” 

“Don’t ‘huh’ me. You know who.” 

“Dex?” 

“Dex,” she repeats, pointing the empty cup in your direction. 

“I saw it happening, don’t worry,” you say, attention drawn back to the chopped up greens now being placed into a bowl. “Part of me was convinced that they would be together when they met from the get-go.” 

For a quick fill-in: it hasn’t been that long since Kazuha went out, a little over thirty to forty-five minutes at most. In that time, you and Yunjin managed to get through a third of a series she picked at random before she started to get more touchy with you. Like the good boyfriend you are - ready at every beck and call, you oblige. Yunjin swung both of her legs onto the seat of the couch, easing into the slow graze of your hands on her thigh, hand cupping her hips and raising the arch in her back when she felt the hard press of your hips against hers. She hates it when it comes to the teasing, but she’s actually a hypocrite on the fact that she does it all the time when you have your legs spread either sitting or laying down; when your brains are fucked into oblivion while she’s on top, bouncing on your balls without a care in the world for damage control. But you broke her brain a little when you grinded into her clothed cunt for fifteen minutes until one of your guys’ stomachs grumbled which put everything on hold for now. 

(There’s always a red herring to be said. For this one in particular, you coined it as: “gotta have that fuel for later, especially if we’re going for more than two rounds.”) 

“Thought so too,” says Yunjin, projecting her own insights when she lets herself down from the polished marble, setting her bearings headway towards you, tending to the ingredients. 

A pot gets put on top of the stove behind you, along with the chopped veggies. “Didn’t he also say that it was a bit late for him to pursue her?” You ask, twisting the dial until the clicking sets the burner to life, gaze locked on Yunjin who stops an inch away. “Something about not being a reliability because of what she’s doing for her career?” 

“Somewhere along those lines, the gap wasn’t too bad either, five years if I recall,” Yunjin supplies, unsure. 

“She was a neuro major, Yunjin.” 

“So?” 

“Dex has his own thing going too, doesn't he?” 

“If you really think about it, I thought it could’ve worked between the two. Yes, he was into her. He was also very amazed with what she was doing with her life. Not to mention the fact that these two clicked the moment he entered the competition as the wild card compared to the other guys. Oh, and that bombshell reveal that she was attending Harvard? Literally gagged the hosts when it first happened. Don’t forget that she was attracted to him for a minute before nothing eventually came to be? I remember showing you the video of those two after the season aired and you can still see the chemistry in them. Some people say that it wouldn’t work out since the scenario is long-distance, but the mother approved of the guy for crying out loud-” You grin and shake your head. Yunjin’s left completely baffled because of it. “-okay, I’m still a firm believer that those two are endgame. That’s my point. I have evidence and a solid reason to back it up. Go ahead, try and test me.” 

“No, I hear you.” You reel her in for a hug while her hands are on her hips. “If it were me, I would’ve thought long and hard about making a big commitment like that.” 

Yunjin sighs, hands sliding up your back. “I know. I really liked their vibe together.” 

Your hands get full of her ass, beneath the fabric of her shirt, laying prints in the mix of skin and threads. Yunjin puts her arms around your neck loosely, stacked and hanging with the slightest pull from her elbows. It’s in the most innocent of pretense, the suggestion heavily implied without the use of words at all. She leans up while you tilt down, meeting in the middle for that overdue relapse of addiction: the lips. She sighs, teeth claiming your mouth as her own, pulling the lovely part of flesh that makes you want to hear those familiar octaves as her body crumbles from the greediness and weight of your touch. 

Every kiss feels like a swan song; the desire of never letting go, press your face deeper into hers, leave a mark on the refreshed canvas waiting to be painted in inspiration and curated for no one else in the world to see. You’re aware that she’s willing to incite change, create something new, get in the right mindset of a familiar avenue in your head where there’s nothing but desperation. It’s in how her fingers rake through your hair, weave down your waist, to your hips, close to the spot where she wants to bring you out the most. 

Think of it as her picking up where she left off on the couch. You could’ve done it right then and there, but you didn’t. 

“Should’ve thought long and hard about earlier, right?” Yunjin teases, half-drunk already with her slack lips. 

“There’s a reason why I set you on the counter in the first place,” you huff, pushing her body past the stove, pinning her against the drawer. “Because of this. I know you, Yunjin.” You then lift her back up to the spot where she started, height difference elevated by a mere few inches. The top of her forehead rests on yours. 

“Such a buzzkill,” she concedes, pouting her heart away like it doesn’t do anything to you. Arms holding you hostage as you try to break free from her grasp. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some kisses around here?” 

“Not a lot,” you offer. 

“Says the person who’s trying to get rid of me.” She doubles down, ankles to your backside and limits the movement. Her exhale is satirical, hoping you’ll dish out the punishment. 

“Your stomach thinks otherwise.” You declare. Pushing her legs apart and retreating. You look over to the kitchen for anything within reach, and settle for an apple. You further the distance between Yunjin to grab it, toss it over as she catches it effortlessly - bites down the fruit in defeat, satiating the cravings. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

(She would much rather have your lips again or even your cock. The fire’s already started, and the water begins to boil.) 

The space feels so far between you two, yet so small. Yunjin holds the apple with her teeth, watches you round the corner of the counter - sees your eyes dart to an open box, the bundle of pasta in the plastic, a knife- something to divert your attention for the time being while you’re forming a strategy in your head - a game plan as to how you’ll deal with her tonight. 

You see: you think you know Yunjin, every part of her body and mind, inside and out. 

She debunks the theory right out of the gate. In a million ways you can’t wrap your head around.  

All she does is straighten her posture, spreads her legs across the glossy wood, and lifts up the fabric past her hips. 

There’s nothing fucking underneath. Just sweet, smooth thighs and her pretty pink glistening  pussy lips. 

It gets your mind racing in confusion: 

“Since when did you-” you’re taken aback, torn from being half-shocked and not-so surprised, also doubling down on the fact she definitely had panties on beneath that shirt. “Didn’t you have something there just a few minutes ago?” 

Yunjin is a master of her art, the trickery in the highest rank imaginable. You envy her intellect at times - her charms, the ways that she can make you speechless just by being herself. This very girl within the walls of your home she claimed as hers, who managed to seep into the nooks of your brain, poisoning you from within until you can’t go for a second longer without wanting to see her gorgeous face, hear her voice; feel her pull you down back to earth while also sending you straight to heaven. None of it really makes sense with her, nor is supposed to. You could go through multiple lifetimes in the existence of the universe and she’ll still find a way to be in all of them. 

Though, she doesn’t give you any chance of solitude with your thoughts. She raises her right hand behind her back, middle and ring finger holding the nylon as her admission of guilt. 

It earns her a small shake of your head, disappointed and impressed in the same moment.  

“Sleight of hand, mister,” she tuts, victorious. Her thumb then grazes against the nylon before falling into its fated purgatory of the floor below. She catches you zoning out, doing two loud clicks of her tongue to keep your eyes on the prize. “My eyes are up here, by the way.” 

“Where did you think I was looking?” 

“Probably at something that matters.”

“And that is?” 

“Fuck if I know- oh wait, I do know. You’re just not doing anything about it.” 

“Want me to proclaim it out loud?” You inquire, sardonically - as if you were willing to play along with her little game of pragmatics, read into the lines of a script and catch the nuances of a hidden message past the sentences. “State the obvious since the naivety is starting to become unbearable for you?” 

“I never said that,” Yunjin rebukes. Hand sliding down to her legs - those dainty fingers having their own fun. 

And you begin your endeavor back to her. One graciously little step at a time. 

Your ears tick at the sudden hitch of breath, muffled by the apple blocking her mouth. It’s on purpose. God help her. She curls her fingertips at the first dip inside her cunt the more you glide over the floor. The weight of your feet becomes less heavier and lighter in every move. Yunjin’s head bumps the cabinet, hips tensing at the rush of her fingers sliding across her folds. She won’t fuck herself like this. No- she would prefer to have you deal the actual blows to her body when you’ve finally decided enough is enough. We’re getting there, don’t worry. Just. A little. Push. 

She finally lets the apple go from her mouth, off to where it’ll most likely be disregarded into the sink or the trash. You can’t stop the constant twitching your hands are doing; so while the pathway is clear, you take into account of the bubbling pot next to you, putting a lid on to make the gurgling much more muted, zero in on the vibrations rumbling in Yunjin’s throat, focus on the rise of her chest. 

Her head drops and to the side, the pull of fabric molding to her figure. Emphasizing on the curves of her waist, those mounds, the present appearance of her hard nipples. The implications clear as day in the form of a seductive summoning. 

But you start slowly: a hand to her knee, then the other. Anticipation is killing you both. 

Landfall.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You sigh, looking down at the sight of Yunjin touching herself, thick air being expelled from your lungs, wiping your inner self clean before repurposing to acclimate the need of getting dirty again. 

Yunjin pulls a lazy grin, beautifully - and leans back while her hips slips forward. Her grip guides your wrists over her skin, shirt hiked up past her waist and into her hips by the second. “You don’t have to say or do if you want to.” She offers, but that’s the setup. “Just wisely biding your time.” 

Not much of it has changed, the way you willingly sink down to your knees. You’re romantic about it - deserves a smirk for the appreciation. You glance up to her toffee shaded eyes, fingers rotating to hook firm on the peak of her thighs, extend your arms up high like she’s some sacred treasure, proffering. “Darling,” and the singular word sets the rest of the testament into place, the burgeoning intention of her demise at your hands. You think back to a week ago: where she found herself in the familiar pecking order, back on the linoleum with her elbow as faulty support, splitting her open and feel her body go limp when you made her cum like she suggested. Your mouth freezes with a gasp when you look closely at her seeping slit, heart stopped as you examine in awe. “I’ll have all the time in the world,” you mumble - or what’s close, honestly - into the plush surface of her thighs, brush your lips down a familiar path you know very well. “But you, gotta slowly show me you deserve it.” 

Her breath hitches again, hesitating. Nerves seizing muscle right where they are. 

“At this rate we’ll be here all night,” she hums, eyes torn from gazing down and spacing out to something in the distance. “Not that I mind, of course, but-” she then nibbles on her lip at the feeling of yours on her legs, deluded and washed over with lust to forget about everything else, “dinner’s still on the cards, yes?” 

“Pick up that apple. You eat while I eat, how bout that?” You propose the solution. One which Yunjin can’t ignore. 

She reaches for the apple and stares into the yellow crater, taking another bite. Cheeks full of fruity bits. “I could get used to this,” her jaw trembling and breath spilling out in a shudder. “Wouldn’t you rather hear-” 

Her neck loosens at the swipe of your tongue over her folds, apple tossed off to the side one more likely never to be eaten again. She leaks out a little more slick for you to clean up, and it’s delightful. Yunjin fancies the idea of scooting her hips forward, thighs hanging out and barely her ass on the counter, providing you more space to work with when your arms hook around the swell of her ass and pull her closer, hand quick to the crease of her knee to put her heel on your collarbone and takes her fingers into your hair, spread one side of her folds and dip your tongue in some more, consuming the warmth down your throat and eat her out alive. 

“Honey,” you proclaim with an arch to your eyebrow, breathless, “You’re fucking leaking.” 

Yunjin pulls this devilish grin, yanks your head back a little further back for you to look up, face twisted with madness. Staring deep into your soul, insatiable. “Your turn to eat, baby.” 

Very few people can play your game, but Yunjin was a whirlwind full of surprises. Each one more shocking than the last. 

“What’s wrong? Speechless?” she asks, but doesn’t give you a second to respond when she reels your head back in. 

So you put your mouth back what’s rightfully yours: press your tongue into her aching cunt and save the words for later. 

You hear her wince, picturing the pained expression in the creased eyebrows, eyes closed shut, jaw hung low. She grinds your face deeper, much deeper to the point where she’s needy enough to feel the light graze of your teeth. 

You slide your fingers into her, unfazed when her knees close your head in, giving you no chance to breathe. Her pants increase in pace, falling apart just a few inches above you. The sounds are absolutely wonderful, blessing you with the harmonious repertoire of moaning spilling out of her mouth - lapping up the wetness at the curl of your finger, cleaning up the salty sweetness of her arousal, slick spread across skin and the sensitive response of her clawing hand into your hair. 

Yunjin’s hair starts to pool over the front of her face, the sight alone is a delight in itself. The ripped collar showing more of her pale shoulder, handfuls of the shirt now undone as her other hand joins the fray on your head, body clenching and relaxing - unsure on which choice is the right one. You and her both listen in to the soft licks and wet smacks of skin and folds, hear her giggle in relief until your nose brushes up against her clit, throbbing core given a quick second of grace before you dive back in and don’t spare a chance for her to breathe. She asked for this, and you expect her to handle it as best she can. Until she’s whimpering and desperate and begging to be more useful than just your mouth and hands. Till she has to say the very words herself in what she wants, while her frame trembles delicately. 

More, more. The boiling pot next to you starts to bubble past the cover, droplets of water hitting the grill and sizzling. You push your tongue in deeper, get the gloss over your lips, pull her folds apart wider and hit the same spot where it kills her over and over, notice the curl of her toes into your shirt, dig her heel deep into the threads. Yunjin bites down her teeth, hand to her breast and gripping tightly. The bubbles start to lift the lid, popping. 

“Can you - be - even more - god, holy fuck-” she spits, words stuttering as her hips slide out over the edge, prompting you to hold her high, drop your jaw even more, kiss and suck the untouched areas and spread her legs. She gasps. “Baby,” she laughs even louder, slapping her palm down on the countertop, “God, I can’t believe-” 

She rucks her hips upward, mimicking a thrust. Your head fades out the rest of the outside noise. 

“-you, of all people-” And a moan pierces your ears, the sound heavenly. Yunjin’s hand palms the back of your head as you start to alternate an up and down motion. Her high imminent, in the curl of your knuckle and lick of your tongue pushing her closer to that pedestal. You push and pull, let the grip of her fingers guide you to the spots where she needs it. Her way of life: the taste of her; warm and addicting. “Fuck, s-shit, there- there! Right there-” 

You open your mouth even more, drinking her mess until she has you drowning in it. Her swollen cunt’s quivering. You can’t help yourself but smile. 

“Need your mouth, your tongue- your- fuck-” 

You’re happily swimming. 

It’s even better when her chest is puffed up, back arched. At a loss for words and just straight up gone. You hold her down as she’s shaking and suck her pussy for your own benefit - devouring her relentlessly, voice broken to a shriek as her juices gush around your tongue and fingers, groaning lowly while you carry on licking the mix of plush-soaked skin, feel the lingering effects of her orgasm leave her body with a harsh pull of her clit on your lips. 

She’s trying everything to calm down, head lightly tapping the cabinet behind her. Clawed fingers releasing their grasp as you help yourself up, legs loosely wrapped around yours and posture reduced to a slouch. “Hate you, by the way. I hate you the way that you are.” She tells you, arms barely placed on your shoulders, slipping. “Why do you have to be so good at being a douche?” 

“Don’t follow your point,” you dart back with a sigh. Height restored and hands back to where they started: on her knees; you cock your head to the right, get a closer look at Yunjin’s messy hair, rumpled shirt, thighs glistening and pink- 

She smacks the side of your neck, earning a pitiful laugh. You’re aware that she loves these kinds of treatments: the kind of treatment where you want her to tenderly run her hand down your face, whisper in your ear of all the things she wants you to do, sliding deep into her cunt and let the heat consume you, wanting - you’ve got get a grip, seriously. She has your head spiraling and somehow you always come out on top of it; the usual bouts where the victor has already been decided. “One day, you’ll see what I mean.” 

“I have a hard time understanding you and Kazuha as it is,” mouth agape, bearing no mind to the act she’s trying to pull. Unpredictability was one of Yunjin’s strong suits and that was no surprise: peeling her shirt off over her shoulders and lifting the veil hiding the endless curves of her body - the slutty little waist, long thighs, her breasts- 

“Maybe I can help you with that,” she offers, lacking judgement. Her hand slips underneath your sweats, fingers taking hold of your cock, confirming her suspicions. Your mouths meet once again, sloppily, you giving leeway after eating out her cunt and in return she has you twitching. “Goodness me,” she mutters into the warmth of your mouth, tempted, rubbing that effect on you. “I bet you’re just dying to stick this inside of me already.” 

“Watch your mouth.” 

“Or what-” she grins lazily. 

You grasp the skin a little bit tightly as your other hand cups her cunt, the heel of your palm digging into her clit. 

“-fuck, that’s what you meant,” her voice diminishing with lidded eyes. 

You then quickly take into account the small funnel of air blowing from the cover; the whirr of the vent above coming to life. 

Yunjin scoots herself over the counter, sees you tug your cock out of pants, lip to teeth as it gently touches her skin. It’s all part of the pecking order, how things build up high to eventually fall - second nature, muscle memory, all the same. 

She’s got her arms and legs around you, inching her hips forward to speed up the process, hopeful in you wrecking her body as always: “You know, not talking isn’t gonna get you everywhere if you don’t do it,” she goes on, no care for your fidgeting hands rubbing up and down her thighs. 

“What the hell is this, a silent treatment?” she asks again, impatience starting to get to her. “C’mon, say something.” 

You serve her anything but that, slicking your fingers with her cum and tap the pads into her skin, gently feeling her sensitive clit to make her lose her train of thought. She’s incessant, but it’s rare for her to be less on the offensive in pressing you for once, so you’ll take full advantage of it. 

“What do you want me to say? I’ve already told you about my observations,” you answer, digits sliding in her cunt and the girl just nods. She’ll notice but still talk out of her ass, since she loves the thrill. Her accompanying grin along with the lip bite and wink sells the whole image, leans you in with the shirt wrapped around your neck, pulling. The small twinge of romance attached. 

The shirt then crumples on the floor when she lets go. 

“That I’m fucking leaking? You sucked me clean, I can barely feel my legs.” 

“Right,” you laugh, working her face some more until her hands go languid. 

Her look goes curt, dismissive. Lashes fluttering in every blink because that’s the second best thing she has in her bag of tricks, aware of the double-edgedness it ensues. She inhales sharply, quick, sudden, bracing the tip of your cock sliding across her folds. “How long has it been since you last fucked me? Yesterday? Two days ago? Finally having your fun since I sucked you off last time, hm?” 

“I don’t need to answer that,” you rebuke. “There’s no point to it.” Is the everlasting conclusion. 

She cocks her head to the left. Elbow holding her up in the best way she can, arching her back again, your cock in position at her awaiting entrance, cup your fingers into her hip. “Don’t blame me for killing you this time.” 

Her face steadies, frozen. Then: the lines of her face warble, mouth dropping. Cunt inviting your tip pressing in. 

“Like I ever would,” she scoffs, right hand to the back of your neck, clinging. “This is what I wanted, remember?” 

(The way that she’s spread, heel hooking to your knee, she’s stripped and defenseless against you. It’s the guilty pleasure you have as her pussy accommodates you, all wet and inviting that it won’t be a struggle to fit in one seamless push. Regardless: that part alone makes sense.) 

“Question is,” you murmur during the break of eye contact, staring lower at the view of your cock finally slips inside and see the quick contraction of her stomach - like she was ready to take a punch to the gut - glancing back up and watch her eyelids flutter at the feeling. “You can’t do anything in this situation, can you?” This girl just came in your mouth a few minutes ago but she’s takes you in with no problem: filling every inch of you in a beautifully fucked up missing piece that she’s constantly deprived of every time. You dig your fingers deep into the skin, stop halfway, then continue to wrench out every inch of her walls. 

“God,” Yunjin grits, breath seething in the gaps of her teeth, brows furrowed. “Go to- fuck-” 

She doesn’t even finish the sentence when you push further. Replaced with a moan instead; her cheeks and nose wrinkle, fingers balled up to a fist behind and her elbow shaking. Her head barely keeping herself together with the cabinet as a last support, failing terribly. 

You stop your movements because the lines on her face are forming toward a familiarity: nervous, dazed, hesitant. A quick twitch of your head negates all of those thoughts away and instead focuses on ramming your hips into her, the clash of skin rippling through you and her both. 

It’s the bravado that she carries, the playfulness, her shift of her sly words, withering and fading at the amount of you: she’s fighting every fiber of muscle to sputter out her needs, though the sweat and slick spread out over body make up in the defilement of her undoing. You can see through her bullshit, and all she sees is the glide of your shaft back into her pussy - the width of you stretching so effortlessly her body forms a jagged line along the frame, mewling and bucking forward. Your fingers hold her hips still, drag your cock along the tightness, fill her up until she says otherwise. 

“Makes no sense,” Yunjin huffs, gasping, head halfway in the gutter, trying to form a point. Her hands try to carry out her words, clinging, cock-full at the lean up, foreheads clashing. She whines into your skin, “Jesus- holy shit, dear fucking Christ-” 

You’ll swallow her words and understand her completely. 

Well- to say that her hot cunt is incredible would suffice so much. The more you push, the more the connection feels like it’s meant to be, in all the filth and the intimacy that’s thrown without thinking of the repercussions after. 

You’ll give your praises and thanks - how her pussy grips around your cock so snug and tight and perfect, sing it into the skin and walls around you, paint it over as many times you’d like. To have a girl like her: a muse, with the desire and hunger impossible to resist, make you sink deeper and deeper where it won’t feel suffocating. 

“Yeah?” you hear yourself say. Like you needed to explain yourself again. “Wouldn’t you know it.” 

The strokes. You’re fucking up into her so nicely, give her no chance to breathe, legs hooked around your thighs. She’s opening up her body to you - you’re marking your own territory: shower her face with kisses, suck the skin across her neck, slide your arms underneath her back and keep pounding at the one angle where the trembling reaches her throat, presses her tongue to the back row of her teeth. 

Christ, you really have no care; roughing her up on the kitchen counter right before dinner time. The fan above you two continues to whirr the smoke in the air where it masks the bundle of moans and curses spewing out of her lips. You could feel her fingers drag across your back, keeping herself close to you, fearful that you’ll stop like earlier and make her beg for more until she has her fix. 

“Baby, baby, holy fuck,” you follow her voice, brushed up against your ear, sift your eyes back onto her and watch her loose mouth. She swallows, grazing the crown of her head to yours. “This cock, I fucking love it. I fucking love it so much, I could die here with how you’re-” 

You shut her up, meet in the middle. Line up the beating of your heart to the move of your hips, lock your arms around her back; she’ll come crawling for that high again, blinded by the guarantee of you forcing her orgasm later. 

“Yunjin,” you grit. Nearing that inevitable crash-out. It’s a never ending cycle of madness. Her cunt is eating your cock alive, soaking your waist. You want it all. 

You want her to cum again: this time on your cock; you want to carry her in her arms, fuck your cock without her feet touching the ground; you want her to scream your name so loudly that it breaks the windows around the house. You’ll never have enough of the indescribable body and feeling that she has, ruining you over and over - not to mention her mouth - that too, is another dangerous addiction. 

A fair bout. The fight for who's bolder. Who can make the other person more vulgar by the second. 

These things have been decided right from the start. 

Yunjin muffles a whimper behind her lips, cock clogging up her cunt like she’s backing away, hiding. 

“Need it, need it so fucking much,” she hushes. “You- your cock. Can never get enough of my pretty little cunt - fuck I should just let you fuck me all day, all night, whenever you feel like it.” Her voice is rasped, the words alone sinister: “Warm you up when you least expect it, yeah? You’d like that, don’t you-” She yelps, nose scrunching when you bottom out and press your groin up against her clit, stomach contracting and relaxing as if she’d done five minutes of planking. 

So you drag out and thrust in - slam your hips into hers, holding the motion there, repeating it soon after. Her hand files up to the cabinet door above and shove your cock down to the hottest point, where the wobbles of her waist finally reach up to her tits. 

Because that’s really the only thing there is to it. Brain fucked out to mush with the marks and glistening sweat spread across, remnants of what the short period has passed. 

Like you can’t help yourself. It’s in the enamored looks, the pockets of air siphoned before it’s coughed out, in the blissful enjoyment of fucking your slick cock in and out. “Holy shit,” she’s saying, head toppled off and arm going limp. She saves the energy for other than talking - let the waves of pleasure sweep her body and have you project her thoughts out for her: delirious and maniacal. “I hear- yeah- Okay. Okay, you said it yourself.” 

Of course she agrees, and she knows. Whittled down to the fine rawness of it. What else is there left to say? 

She’s amazingly gorgeous and beautiful - a gift from God himself. You remind her every time like it’s the first. When her lips met the end of your cock months ago, blowing your world away, the stretch of her pussy swallowing you whole and the tension was undoubtedly abysmal. Another second passes a shared breath: Yunjin-god-fucking-dammit, and there’s a bunch of other shit that gets said, listless and nonsensical where the only thing left to do is let the blistering warmth and clashing tongues do all the work for the both of you. 

It’s normal: the way that she clings like she hasn’t seen you for days - leaning back with an arch and quite literally her feet off the ground. 

Every moan sounds punctuated lazily, whining and whimpering and in a pitch where she almost sounds scared. 

Still, she’s lost the plot: “Fuck me.” 

That’s where everything clicks, a flame extinguished and replaced for something new, something profound: her face clenches in the quick swap of pain to relief, when you’ve put your cock at a spot inside where she sobs; the pleasure so intense the both of you exhale in unison, almost like a ‘got you’ moment entirely. 

“Honey,” you say against her cheek, fingers planted in the divot of her lower back, spreading her so well the motion is absolutely seamless, a perfect fit and pace to ruin. “Look at you, so lovely; this fucking cunt feels amazing; oh my goodness.” Your words are making sense, barely, but it’s always on this path since you’ve met the girl; you just can’t help yourself. “I adore this pussy a little too much, don’t you think?” 

“So funny, ah-” she quips, a smile brandished across her lip, eyes rolling to the back of her head, holding on to the last bits of common sense left, knowing well there’s no point. “I’d let you, to be honest. A good deal: my pussy for your cock. Fair trade?” 

“Fuck yes,” is what slips out of your mouth, a truth to savor for eternity. “Want it all.” 

It goes both ways: she wants to peg complete bullshit to you, say her fantasies of how big of a slut she can actually be, fuck that snark out of her until she’s satisfied - but then you watch and listen to the more mundane things she does, and your head can’t comprehend it either. You want her, her mind, her body, the secrets that she keeps locked up in a box sunk in the bottom of a river; things that she doesn’t want anyone to find out about; where the dares of admission only comes once in a blue moon and she tries to pass it along in conversation. 

You could make an endless list as to what makes Yunjin a treasure to behold, to keep - proclaim it out loud like you haven’t done so already - a collapsing, beautiful madness, honestly. She’s holding you so close and you can’t afford to let go. That’s just how it is. All it takes is one look into her eyes and you never want to leave. 

“You’re amazing,” you say to her, breathless. 

Yunjin’s lashes flutter shut immediately after. As if you had to tell her again and again. 

Her hips stay still while yours continue to move, every aftershock sent through her body creates these ridges you’re proud of, ankles to the swell of your ass, clamping around your cock, grinding teeth with her voice croaking: “-good, so good, so fucking good, please, for the love of God-” 

Her upper lip arches the more she inhales, mouth hung open as the moans crumble on top of each other. Most have complained about the increase in occupancy, the hollers of a drinking game, midnight conversations about relationship mishaps and failures, bassline of a song that reverberates on the drywall and the occasional shouting battles that usually ended up stopping after a few minutes. Your neighbors do hear the constant pounding at some point during the day, annoyed and fed up like they didn’t want to have the fun themselves, each thrust bouncing her where her breasts jiggle on the upstrokes, palm full of them, the feel firm and heavy; and you look at her face again - where a certain crease of skin, above her brow, and you know that she’s going to lose it over your cock, how her limbs will surrender willingly, reduced to mush and cradling the fuck through her. 

Yunjin’s arm springs forward over your shoulder. You pull her up, sit upright, body bouncing with her ass well off the counter, the angle primed and ready where the shocks to her ass start to become a cushion, tits wobbling and hypnotic and bouncing; you keep- keep fucking her little hole with no regard for her life. 

It’s right where she wants you to be. 

You’ll lay your flowers later, if you’re even alive to tell the tale: how Yunjin is completely destroyed by your shaft. Her hair frazzled, eyes half open and head tilted towards shame and in the closest iteration of a cocksleeve it could get. She’s so fucked into oblivion where it’s worth having served the verdict. The last moments of light that you want to keep forever, stay as long as you can. 

When her lips meet yours, sweeping: a part of you starts to break beneath the cracks. 

She’s trying so hard to keep a hand to your waist, then the counter, but you’re holding with every bottom out at the base and you entertain the idea where you could go any deeper, fuck her harder- 

“Just-” she pleads, into your mouth, right on your tongue. “Yours. All yours. Fuck me like it’s the only thing that matters-” 

“Jen,” you groan out raggedly, lock your elbows to her chest, matching the drag of her nails. 

“Gonna cum so much,” is what you think she says. “Look at you, such a good boy.” Her pointer finger grazes the line of your jaw. “Plugging me full, I know you love it,” she dryly laughs, lightly pinching your hip when she hears the hint of a squelch of your cock sliding back in her, “this big, fucking cock,” and she’s really not helping you in this situation, claiming you as her own, soul snatched with no hope of returning it: “Pumping and pumping until I can’t get enough. Fuck. You’re so good at this, so fucking naughty. Got you all hard and needy for me - pounding my poor little pussy just to set me right,” this girl is fucking demonic, with the stuff that she’s telling you, her body right there in your hands; you haven’t been thinking straight since you’ve gone down on her - that cunt, her pussy lips gliding your cock with her slick soaking you endlessly- 

“Shut the fuck up,” is what you manage, a futile attempt to stop her. Like it would ever work at all. “Don’t do that. Don’t do this to me.” It’s impossible. You’re so easy to trick, gullible enough to fall for anything that comes out of her mouth, let her take the advantage and leave you with nothing at the end. She believes that you’ve had your fun, and the turn switches back to her. 

“Or what?” Yunjin smiles, nearing bliss. “Wanna cum on me? In me? Use your words, baby boy.” 

You swear, or something close to that. 

The rush becomes too much to bear, the thought of doing what she exactly wants: pulling your cock out of her tight cunt and paint your load all over her stomach, or- the more addicting idea of burying your dick inside her so deep that your release has a one way trip - you simply just- can’t. You shouldn’t. Not because to play it safe, but you’re safeguarding the responsibility of the filthiness that comes with it - what you could do - what you’ve done to her. Instead, you should throw her onto the floor, on her knees, shove your cock down her dirty mouth and cum in her throat or on her face, watch her clean up the mess you’ve made, press the thick tip of your cock on her plump lips and have her taste the sweetness of you. Have her drink it down until she has those doe brown eyes of hers looking up in acceptance. She’s beautiful: in the most fucked up, soaking, ginger-haired possible way imaginable. 

“Let- let me-” you sputter towards a growl, but you can’t keep up with her words and replace it with the pace - how her cunt fits your cock so well like a perfect shoe, lengthy frame detrimental to yours. “Fuck, just let me-” 

“Mhm,” she hums, unfazed. 

“Fuck this slutty little cunt of yours,” you finally manage, and more of a promise already written; you continue to fuck into her, snap your hips in where your balls start knocking above the pucker of her ass, working your cock along those velvety walls, feel the gush with every squeeze of muscle along her pussy, stretching amazingly with the clench. 

“Keep going.” She prods at your waist. 

Oh, she knows where this is going. It’s hot. It’s diabolical. It just feels right. You’re convinced that she’s figured you out, but playing dumb on purpose to see you admit it right in front of her. She sees the quick rise and fall of your chest - your shoulders, fingers grasping pale skin as it turns to something crimson, glance at the devilish smile she possesses that severs all the nerves in your brain: you are so fucking down bad for this woman, and you can’t do anything about it. 

“Keep-” 

“I know,” and you do. 

“Love this. Love you. Love everything that’s happening,” says Yunjin, praising. “Tell me all the things- the things you want to do to me.” 

“Sweetie,” you gasp at the next firm thrust, “gonna put my cock in your mouth, fuck your throat until you choke,” you snap, madness fully consmed, “fuck your holes full and then-” 

Then what? Have her ask to pound her ass? Ride you? Make her scream with the doors wide open? What more could you say or do that isn’t in the cauldron of pure insanity- 

“Use me more,” Yunjin sighs, and that’s the crystal clear thought pulled right out of your cock, “take me, grab wherever, I just need- god, your cum- want your cum so fucking much,” each word in that sentence rising an octave, “Cum,” a simple mantra, a demand. Yunjin’s creaming cunt, filling her up whole, you’re gonna burst inside and she’ll happily accept it as a gift, getting off on the sound ripping through your chest, hips bucking, legs tensing, her lower half quivers beneath you; attitude reduced to soft sounds, you taking full advantage with the fall-off imminent. 

Some of these things, you can’t afford to think; fucked up as it is, it’s better to revel in the silliness and disregard the common sense. 

“Oh fuck,” you hear her breathe, tone low and insanely turned on, her smile already showing she’s won. “Fuck yes-” 

But even if you’re splitting her insides apart, a small fraction of control rests within you, feeling the curves of her body ripple, in a slowing rhythm, pound her cunt for one more second and finally give her the reward. 

A rope of cum is all she gets on the inside; as for the rest- 

“Yes- wait no, fuck- what are you doing?” Yunjin sounds completely in shock for what you’ve committed, snuff the flame out from her pulsing cunt, slide yourself out of the tightness, hold her leg up since she’s too weak to resist. You’re going to hell, but so is she. Painting all over the flat plane of her stomach, coating her pale skin with your cum. “You fucking bitch- that doesn’t belong there,” but she’s too fucked out to do anything about it, and you don’t even bother to dish out a good comeback, let the actions do the talking for you: “Put it back, please, please,” and you do as she says. 

It’s a fresh feeling, the way her warmth envelops your soft cock, holding it so nicely as you help her sit back up properly. Mouth back on you instantaneously. 

“I’m gonna get back at you,” is what she says against your grazing lips, brushing her cheek along the tip of your nose. Her nails lightly scratch your back, ruffles into your hair. “If you’re up for it, you’ll follow.” 

“Challenging me? A bit crude, even for you,” you remark - she grins into your face, slides off the counter, fingers dancing along your slick, softening cock. 

A familiar look in her eyes. Telling you, yeah, I know - underlying the surface, but she’s got her entire hand in every crook of your brain, unfaltering: “We’ll see.” Then she says, “Get your ass on the sofa.” 

–

If there’s anything you learned about Yunjin: she never backs down from her word. 

Oh- and your mouth’s formed in the way she wants it to be. You’ve got it all wrong there, too. 

She tells you to keep your hands on the seat, at the sides and on the ready; impulsively, you want to pick up right where you left off from the kitchen, eyes locked between your legs, her head graciously bobbing up and down, vibrations all over the sensitive surface - feeling the pinching cramp in your backside, tensing the muscle, swallowing the opposite end of you with ease. 

Her lips stop halfway when you raise your hand a bit too high for her liking. 

“Fuck me, Yunjin,” you mutter, watching her sink your cock into her throat. “Don’t do that.” 

Yunjin flashes a glare, flutters her eyelids shut, drags her head back up and gasps. Her mouth is one thing. Her hands? They show you no mercy. You’ve been in this scenario before - a lot of times for some quick context, so tonight isn’t any different. She’s working you tightly at your balls and the base, intending to wring you clean of the release you should’ve left inside her. The one-two punch killer enough to leave you paralyzed from the waist down; she runs her mouth on the tip, tongue tracing a vein and the underside, curling her fingers and stroking so delicately- 

Yeah. You’re pretty much fucked like this. It’s a losing situation. 

Your head falls back while your hips slide forward, turning your body over to her mouth which earns a moan in response. The look on her face is deadly, and the sounds ripping through your chest implicates your high not far to reach. Those fucking plump lips: well parted and sliding all over her spit, moving back up and sinking again, the suction a bit more forceful the second time around, cheeks puffing and hollowing, blinking dutifully. 

She knows how badly you want to fuck her face, shove your cock into her mouth and expect a reward in return. Yunjin knows you want to get there, eventually, pulling herself off and twists your shaft, sees the tilt of your chin to the ceiling, relishing the submission. 

“So fucking hard,” she grins, examining the mix of her spit and slick all over you, listening to the wet noises she created. “I can’t wait to taste your cum again.” 

She’s too good for your own sake, and you can’t fight back on it. 

“Be a good little toy and relax,” Yunjin instructs gently. Puckering her lips and slapping your sensitive head all over them. Soft. Lucious. Sinful. Her innocent blinks fail to cover it, nor the fact how pretty she looks with a pensive expression: it’s evil. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

You nod right away and she dives back down. Her tongue rubs around the tip between her lips, flattening to slide you into the softness and sleek feeling of her throat, bathing you with spit when your hips produce the slightest hitch. She’s had enough practice with you - to know how her tongue moves in all the ways she knows you love, easily bottoming the whole length like she has before, determined to hear you groan in rapture, and you do. 

“Christ, Yunjin- baby-” you grit, and your head falls back to the head of the couch. 

When she sucks, you flex your ankles forward. The mess worsens before it gets better, streams of drool leaking over your cock. She spreads it around with her mouth, her fingers, palm flattening, her lips fully sealed at the root, her nose digging into your waist. You’re amazed and how well she takes you, holding her head down for a few seconds - that’s the personal trial she set for herself: how long she could keep you there, the flex in her neck, gurgling and choking. It’s also dangerous in the fast switch up from the clamp of her throat to the alternating pace of her flushing your cock in and out, deepthroating you to the point where she can feel your whole body twitch. A pressure point, cutting the line until it’s completely severed. 

You’re sucking so much air into your lungs, creating a pocket at your waist. She pops her mouth off the tip and has the audacity to cackle in your face. 

She’s testing the endurance to it’s limit, her slick hands wrapped well around your shaft when she tends to your balls, getting mouthful of each one and peppering them with licks and kisses, hair pooling over your waist and to your thighs, knowing how good she as at fucking breaking you. There’s no denying that your girlfriend is an irresistible cockslut and personal toy, since the part goes both ways when it’s the right occurrence. Once she’s through the few moments of breathing, her jaw slacks and takes you back in, hearing you huff at the subtle graze of her teeth. 

The moan sputters out on impulse as you get careless and place your hand to Yunjin’s cheek, rubbing a thumb below her eye, and you could see the tick at the corner of her mouth break into a smile. She lifts her head up, giggles at the shudder of your thighs when her teeth taps your cockhead. “Aw, are you worked up already?” 

“More or less,” you answer, and it’s a sudden moment of grace, a blessing in disguise, mind telling the rest of your body to calm down as she slowly jerks you off. “You know me, I wouldn’t back down on your escapades,” and you moan again when she speeds up the pace, “Seriously, it’ll be on you if I cum like this.” 

She kisses your cock and licks. This girl can’t be helped. “What a shame. Hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

“We can do this all night if we have to, so why not?” 

Yunjin lets out a dry laugh. “We will, don’t worry,” she says, carefully pumping you and swipes her thumb over the slit, seeing the thread of precum bridged across, twisting at the middle. “It’s just been a while since we’ve had a conversation while I gave you head.” 

“What’s on your mind this time?” you inquire, playing into the deliberation, “Probably something intriguing, I assume.” 

Yunjin blinks, locks her finger and thumb around the base of your shaft. “You think Kazuha’s fucked a cock like this?” 

You stare, pondering, it takes a second longer for the question to set in because it’s entirely out of left field. “You’re asking me out of all people? How the fuck would I know? She doesn’t bring those kinds of details up with me whenever we talk about it.” 

“But I can’t help but wonder,” Yunjin tuts, hand carelessly sliding around you, nicking her head back. “Have you ever fantasized about your best friend?” 

“Yunjin, that’s just weird. Fuck no-” 

“Aw, you can be honest with me. You and I don’t keep secrets with her as it is, no need to hide.” 

She then tips her head, flickers her eyes up at the heavy sigh your mouth makes when her lips make contact with your cock. Her smile goes even wider, noticing the twitch at your eyebrow, how you’re clenching your teeth and bring your chest up to your shoulders - where she’s managed to work you up with the finesse and enchantment that’s simply exuded from her. 

There’s nothing much for you to do except sitting back and let Yunjin take your whole length into her mouth. No notes or objections for her to hear, but the sticky wet sounds slathering your shaft and your body moments away from finally giving the reward she rightfully deserves. 

“Pretty fucked up sense,” you’re mumbling your head off, moving wisps of her hair out of her face, thinking less and less as she stuffs her throat of you, keeling and leaning forward to where you’re lifting your ass off the couch. “Shit-” 

This is her version of a truth serum, a polygraph; her mouth and hands working beautifully in tandem, her collarbone vanishing into her neck, guiding you to the well-wrapped grip she has with her fingers, fucking you with panache in the hot curves of her throat. 

She loves it when you’re like this: bending to her will and getting you off with the tightest fist. Wringing you clean now that you’ve done the hard work. 

Her hand cups your balls, nails scratching the ridges. The pace she keeps is relentless, alternating from base to tip so excruciatingly well, twisting and jerking and fucking- 

“Mmph?” 

“You’d be surprised if I said yes.” 

Yunjin slides her mouth off once more, spits the underside, lapping up the slick. “No fucking way. You’ve thought about it before?” 

“Predates you, if you want me to be more specific.” 

She flashes the same wicked grin you’ve seen before, tongue tracing a path at the root. Pursing her lips when she inhales, taking in the scent. Legitimately, fuck her. Lashes fluttering heavy with the eyelids, pupils dilating and too faded for you to notice. “If it makes you feel better, I came to that conclusion a while back, just didn’t say anything.” 

“Were you sparing me?” 

Yunjin ticks her lips, still smiling, taking pride at the concurrence. “It is also hot for you to finally confess about her.” Her hand plants firmly at your thigh and you consciously thrust your hips back in, gasping in beautiful bliss. She swallows you back up again, clenching her throat and sealing where you’re blinking a lot more faster this time. That rose colored mouth humming along the skin with every puff of her cheeks, flushing it perfectly like it’s practiced. Her back arches and bends, unfazed with the constant shake of your right leg, all the motions culminating in your muscles and hers, rising and rising- 

“Yeah, okay, alright, I’m- holy shit-” 

“Mmmphphm-” 

Your composure snaps, hand now to her head, a death grip in her hair, fucking her face ruthlessly, drunk at the feeling of her mouth and the obscene gawking noises and the bob of her throat curling your cock, lips smaking and drooling more that you regret not putting a towel on the hardwood floor beneath you two. 

It’s incredibly difficult to internalize, let alone imagine the wish you could capture this feeling for eternity, bring it out from a bottle at the shortest convenience. Yunjin doesn’t falter with the moaning, friction slippery and neurons overloaded, delusion finally high and head still to you - plugging her hot mouth full of your cock, sliding in the smooth muscle, throbbing. 

She takes another deep breath, earning a palm to her face, gaze wistful and deep into your soul. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” 

Damn right you are. 

Yunjin doesn’t need to clarify what she said, since she already knew. Instead, the flicks of her wrist are astonishingly meticulous, amazed that you’re rock solid not just because of her, but rather the thought of Kazuha doing the same thing to you, given with the experience. 

“I think you’re ready,” she declares, and the sentence alone is loaded with different interpretations. 

She doesn’t savor the moment of grace soon after, siphons the breath out of you when she puts her lips back on your cock. Your mind’s no longer there, thinking: Yunjin, Kazuha - the pair doing numerous things to you all at once. Trading your cock between their hot mouths, hands stacked along your shaft, pressing into their slick cunts and watch them keen of being split apart. Yunjin’s sloppy mouth fucking you brings it back to reality, slit leaking and ready to burst. She licks once, twice, thrice, lips wrapped around your cockhead and hand twisting the shaft, aiming in one direction where the load should go. 

Your thighs tense, breathing ragged, shoulders back and chest out when her eyes go wide - shocked at the first thread of cum caught in the roof of her mouth. A pillow falls off from the couch as you’re fighting the urge to push her face away from your hips and that’s when it get worse. 

It hadn’t been that long since you last came, but the surprise was a welcome one when more shots of white start spilling over your stomach, her hands, her face, on her button nose, your shaft twitching in her hands when she hovers her mouth over your tip and seals it to safeguard remnants of the damage. 

“Yunjin, fuck- oh, fuck-” 

“Mmm,” she hums gleefully, licking the mess off of you and squinting at the leaking slit, pulsing out more. Your cock softening again and body in a complete mess, fingertips carefully moving on your belly and brain falling in and out of consciousness. “Oh my god. You came so fucking much.” 

She nuzzles her face into your side, observing your chest calming down: “didn’t think I had more in me.” And that’s pretty ironic coming from you. “Congrats, babe. Consider me dead.” 

“There’s more where that came from,” replies Yunjin, orange hair swirling over your shoulder. “We’re even now.” 

Doesn’t get any better than that, really. The score stands at one-to-one. 

–

“By the way,” Yunjin starts off again, spent and roughed up on the mattress after going back to back rounds a little less than thirty minutes later. First in the shower and the second on the bed; a restoration to the pecking order, actually on the same page. “She drunkenly confessed to me about it while you were gone one night. Poor girl can’t keep a secret. I felt bad.” 

“Her loss, honestly. Sucks to be her for having the issue.” 

“You don’t think it’s a problem.” 

“Well that depends on your solution.” 

“Well,” says Yunjin, expectant. “I was gonna propose-” 

(You can kind of see where this is going.) 

“-maybe the both of us could- y’know, deal with her as we see fit.” 

“Meaning?” 

“Emulate a porn plot towards her, the typical one where the girlfriend shares with her best friend.” 

You plop on the mattress, tilting your head. 

“Like a collaborative effort?” You’re then asking; the thought not too far-fetched, but still brazenly out of her mind. Even for Yunjin’s standards. “What’s worse is the idea of you sharing me? With Zuha? I swear you were possessive about me, where did that go?” 

Yunjin bends her leg up against yours, brushing a thigh before her knee nestles at your waist. Nothing but smooth, soft skin just there for you to touch, to feel, and just- right on your lap. 

“Consider us sharing. Communal, I guess.” Her brain’s working next to you, then it hits. “A communal cock for the both of us.” She snorts, bursts out laughing once she’s created the twisted hypothesis. “Our cock. Kazuha and I. Please, tell me you’re loving the idea.” 

“I don’t hate it,” you’re stating, hand slipping lower to the swell of her ass. There you go again: thinking about Kazuha and Yunjin together. It’s supposed to be a silly theory. 

“So, will you help me? Unless there’s something I don’t know about.” 

“I’m not really in a position to say no, but I’ll let you do your thing.” 

“Take that as a yes, then,” Yunjin rests a cheek along your chest, prompting you to move your other arm around and fully embrace her, paying no attention to her kneecap pressing up against your balls, “you wouldn’t want to hear my plan to get our girl set up for what’s coming?” 

“You can brief me sometime later.” Another thing added to the agenda, with the rest of the responsibilities filling up your notifications and inbox. “Unless you want to surprise me.” 

Yunjin squints her eyes, purses her lips at you the next second; fingers dancing along your jaw, your throat. “If that’s what you want,” she concurs, retrieving your hand to her hip. “One more for the night?” 

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk the next morning.” 

And so she gets herself off like that. Your cock in Yunjin’s hand and pressed up against the skin, feel the rush of her pussy lips coating you in slick. Her fingers too dainty and delicate, precise at the touch. You’re alternating from slipping inside her hot cunt - eventually stuck between her impossibly tight thighs crushing the shaft. 

Your throat and hers rumble low, locking legs and letting the hinged hips do their own thing, listening to each other’s nuances of groans and curses and names traded until the overdue exhaustion following the pleasure washes over you two. Yunjin’s face is dazed, relaxed and satisfied with the spill between her legs, her whole body wrapping around you; conserving the heat in any way she can - even if it means to sink your cock back into your cunt. 

You’re hoping the next wet dream you have turns into reality. 

–

A quick look into the inner lens of manifests and proclamations: most of the intents are put in a good light. Speak it into existence and great things will soon come its way - that type of thing. 

When you want something - you’re holding your breath for what’s to happen. 

As for Yunjin, it’s quite the opposite: 

“Imagine all the ideas you could have if you just- let it happen?” She’s on your back and flipping pancakes, breath tickling your ear and putting her down becomes a favorable option than the latter. “Look at it this way, Party A can only take action if the conditions are met in agreement with Party B.” 

“Please allow me to ask, but who the fuck is Party B?” You swivel in place and swing Yunjin’s long legs around the kitchen, the wrap of her arms hooking deeper at your neck. 

“I’m not answering that,” Yunjin says, foot to your thigh and altering your attention to a low-ponytailed Kazuha sitting across, ready and raring to go for her run. 

Kazuha looks dumbfounded, lost, predictable. “What are you guys talking about a Party B?” 

“Huh?” you and Yunjin say in unison. 

“Huh?” Kazuha repeats the utterance. 

Then all three of you say: “What?” Queue the laugh track - somebody, please. 

“Enough of this,” you declare, setting Yunjin down so she can finish cooking the meal. You glance at the glowing screen of your phone, see a few new messages pop up, and a notification from one of the places you applied to. “Crap,” you then say, realizing what’s on the attachment, “It got moved up?! Gotta run.” 

“You too, hm?” Kazuha chides, with an eye smile and a slice of banana in her mouth. “Cute.” 

“Make sure you bring your lunch with you, honey!” Yunjin yells while you blitz back into the bedroom to get changed. “Can’t own the interviews on an empty stomach!” 

–

Various managers you keep in touch with praise your skills and determination, saying that you would be a good fit for the team. It’s a waiting game now; only a matter of time before someone steps forward, claims you as theirs. 

Some places you’re fielding calls from, shortening the list. You’re forwarding it back to home base: hit or miss for today’s adventures, thinking about taking either minnie’s offer or sian’s.

Yunjen 💟: i loooove sian! miss that girl so much (;-;)

Yunjen 💟: pls say yes to her next time, for me? 🥺

🍑: u forgot ur water bottle at home, idiot 🥸

You: great, now i gotta wash it because you touched it

🍑: you’re really bout it today, huh?

🍑: i’m gonna kick your ass when you get back 

You: please, whatever you throw, i’ll catch

Yunjen 💟: aw, i won’t be there to see you school her in mario kart again 😭😭😭

🍑: if i can beat your ass at racing, jennifer, i can def beat him 

🍑: u think too low of me. 

Yunjen 💟: you two play nice now, i’ll be back by dinnerrrr

Yunjen 💟: let me know how it goes 

–

Kazuha greets you at the door, sighing with disappointment, like she owns the place - that’s partly true: she pays for half the rent but always forgets until you remind her. 

“What’s with the look?” you ask flatly. 

“Nothing,” she shrugs, face tugged to a scowl. “Just thought that you’d be back in high spirits after landing the job.” 

“Results don’t come that fast,” you remark, following her in the apartment, feet scruffing and leggings skin tight around her figure. Hair clumped together after being tied for a long period. “They said that they’re gonna do one more week of evaluations and see from there.” 

“Meaning?” 

“I get the job, which means more money; if not, we keep looking.” 

Kazuha chuckles, settling herself on the couch with her legs curled, watches as you drop your things and join soon after. “Is this the part where I ask how your day was like old times?” 

“Zuha, I’m gonna walk right out that door if you do. Please don’t.” 

“Not even this once?” 

You stare at Kazuha’s delighted wink, rolling her eyes back and cringing. “Well shit, my day hasn’t been that interesting either, thanks for asking.” She says, palm sliding down her face with a sheepish smile. “Can’t even have drinks until Yunjin gets back.” 

“What’d you suggest we do for the meantime?” 

Kazuha grabs the controller, treating it like a deck of cards for a party trick. She lifts her eyebrows, tempting. 

“You weren’t kidding.” you say, amazed. 

“Unless you have a better idea,” she drawls, shaking it to double down the offer. “What, too much of a pussy to play me?” 

“You’re on. Give me the other controller.” 

–

Full disclosure aside. 

Moments like these with Kazuha have always been the usual bread and butter for you two to bond over on. With the amount of years carried in between - part of you has imagined what it would be like if the relationship label found its way to you two instead of the opposite. 

(You remember it vividly, the brief period was short lived for a few months after keeping the emotions at bay for a long ass time. Going into high school was the usual phase where the feelings aren’t exactly certain, and eventually change. She could’ve left you out of her life then, but didn’t. Attached wasn’t the right word you or her would say, though, you’re glad she stayed either way.) 

Even after she started to come out of her shell, be talkative, get more active, fit in clothes that make you and every other horny guy on campus drop their jaws at, she’s still the same girl you met back in kindergarten: a true friend at your side going places, while also doing stupid stuff for the fun. 

“This goddamn blue shell, I swear to god-” 

As for you, well- you’ve got tunnel vision, deathly locked to the screen, blocking all outside noise and focusing on the mario character and the amount of asphalt you got on the tires. Kazuha was all up in your ear, talking about how she managed to build a gap after a poor start on your end with the amount of bananas being tossed up track and dropped along the kerbs. She also thought racing at 200cc was a great idea - when in reality she’s only raced nothing above 50cc. 

She’s using every trick in the arsenal: the hand to your face, kicking your side; hell, even covering your end of the screen if it meant being in last place. Her definition of victory was seeing you not succeed. 

All in all, it was a good way to have fun. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she asks, when she’s fully calmed down and actually playing properly. “That night where you had to pick me up from the kickback,” her body leaning with the steering motion of the kart when the controls were strictly to the joystick. “No one told me I didn’t get hooked up with anybody.” 

“Because you didn’t.” you say tiredly. Explaining the gauntlet she gave you to bring her back home safely. 

You’re finishing first ahead of Kazuha - the girl can’t drive in real life as it is. 

Her legs cross over yours, paying no attention to the spread of her toes and flex of her calves. Heel grazing your crotch before resting along your thigh, fighting the urge to break composure and adjust yourself. “Hmph, that’s a shame. Since you did see me drunk after all-” 

“Happens multiple times than I would like to count,” you’re saying mildly, glancing, “I was also hoping that Sakura would take you home instead of Eunchae calling me.”  

“Is that what happened?” Kazuha asks, and it abrupts your thoughts quickly. “Sorry- I know I asked the morning after but - still don’t remember much.” 

You look away, down to your hips. Your mind and body clearly not in sync. 

Which begs the question: “So, what do you actually remember? From that night?” 

The answer she gives goes in one ear and out the other. Vividly telling you the details. 

“You’re not very slick about me; you know that, right?” Kazuha concedes. And you agree, completely cornered.

“What do you want me to do about it?” 

“Gonna keep talking?” 

“Please, I can do more than just talk.” 

Kazuha bites her lip, pulls her legs back, shakes her head, the intent easy for you to read. There’s a few shared secrets with her you’d like to keep. 

What’s one more thing to hide from Kazuha and Yunjin? 

–

Think of it this way, racing’s got a lot to offer: the thrill, the rush, the risk. Kazuha loves to put you in the dust; always making you chase until you’ve got one over her. She’s screwed you over in other lifetimes - including this one - but, it’s worth noting the exception: a rare occasion where you’re back at the starting line and finishing all the same. 

Kazuha doesn’t look over her shoulder often; disregards the terror she leaves behind without a care, and you ought to remind her where it lands as soon as you can. 

“Jesus christ-” is what leaks out of her lips, biting down another moan in her throat. You cup her chin and force the look up, hands slipping on the glass. “Your fucking cock is just-” 

Amazing? Well, she took the words from Yunjin, and you know.

It’s extravagantly fucked up: turning back time as if it was yesterday - you’re railing her in the shower, warm water falling from above, steam fogging up beneath. 

She sure knows how to make you shut up, just like old times, and a small part of you wishes how things might’ve been different if you or her if you said something back then, but you’ll let your bodies do the talking - her cunt clenching around your shaft, skin rippling the water off with every wet slap in, hand reaching for your thigh for stability. You’re just holding on and having her do most of the work in throwing her ass back, begging you for more, press her against the wall, take your cock like she always does - she may treat you like shit in the most affectionate way possible, but that layer is stripped entirely if her heart and mind allowed it. You’re going to fuck her pretty cunt, make her remember that night where she got herself off with you watching and act like nothing happened despite the raw marks of red on her creamy skin. 

That too, and she’ll be a pain in your ass still: “What’s wrong? Worried Yunjin will walk in on us?” 

“Kind of counting on it,” you relent, and she hunches. You pull her back up and feel her breath hit your chin. “Who knows? Maybe she’d want to join us.” 

“You think so?” Her arms flush with the tile. 

“If you’ve forgotten,” you manage, bracketing her waist - grip hard enough to make her yelp, and you’re loving every second. She’s a brat and a bitch and a slut rolled up into one; someone who has no care for others, except - oh, right; you’ve put up with it long enough. It’s the perfect opposite. “You’re the one who made the first move.” 

“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” she denies, dishonored and deflective, so you drag your hips and push back in, grab her face, watch her jaw go slack. “Oh god. Baby, yes-” 

The water’s streaming down her chest, her abs, spraying off to the walls and glass - you snake your hand to her neck, a muscle memory: everything else is an easy line to follow. 

One of her legs are lifted for you to hook, so that you can reach the familiar angle you’ve lost the feeling for too long, where you’ve made her scream, swear out more obscene stuff. She’s bracing herself along the wall properly when you’ve slid your cock back inside her; she’s groaning a lot louder now, tensing, moaning - you’re supporting her and she’s taking it like you promised, her head bobbing all over the place, mouth canted, skin flushed hot-pink. A smile breaks at the corner of her lips. It’s the easy position, the natural flow of motion, keeping pace, a simple solution to a problem - all of the qualifications applied in different situations. Except, your hands find themselves on the rise of her hips, ass hypnotizing you all over your eyes; she’s leaking on your cock, cunt split open and ready to ruin - and you think you’ve finally won the argument, somewhere hidden past the heavy breathing. 

“Fuck- fuck me. Oh- shit- ah-” spills out, and it’s another win to take in, soaking the moment of bliss - that’s so fucking good, i’ve missed this so much, keep going, yes- right there, harder - she’s lost her mind entirely. 

You shouldn’t be grinning wickedly, but you are - it’s relieving in bend a girl like her to your will who can’t hold herself to the end. 

“The worst kind,” she’s huffing, gasping, mewling, trying so hard to keep her posture up while you work her towards the orgasm she’s been asking for since her feet skimmed over the bulge in your pants, playing it off like nothing terribly as it’s a routine for her. You’re aware that she’s probably touched herself while you and Yunjin fucked throughout the night. The walls around here are thin as it is, and so much for that. 

You don’t let up, fucking her hard and fast, like she wanted - praising you for finally breaking that unspoken rule left behind years ago and promise to keep it on the low. You and her both knew it would happen again eventually. How could you not? Just one little change of impulse and you’re on the one way track to hell. 

(Don’t act like this wasn’t your doing, either.) 

“I don’t hate,” she says, urging, whining and whimpering and you’re dying to hear more of it for her - “please, just- it’s incredible, I fucking love it, this fucking cock- all for me-” 

You grab a handful of her slick hair and yank, watch the arch in her spine rise, the fluttering eyelids and shape of her mouth. Kazuha drops her jaw even lower and winces when you pound her pussy deeper; the imaginary line in your head fades with the steam. She’s clenching tightly around your shaft, and you know that this won’t be a singular occurrence. She’s gonna be coming back for more, becoming addicted, clingy. “You like? S’that feel good?” you’re asking anyway, waiting to hear the same answer. 

You want this to last. Her cunt quivers around your length, clamping. You’ve fucked her through the first orgasm, onto the second or third, neither of you are keeping track - you’re chasing for your own - but there’s a sense of grandeur to this, in addition of the gratification to the reward from watching how astonishlingy you can dick her down and put her back in her place. 

Kazuha’s putting effort where it counts. Says: “Need- I need it- fucking christ, please, do it already-” And - fuck, not in a polite way, but good note for trying. 

Kazuha sobs along with a low huff that’s one of the hottest things you’ve heard from her in a while - a long time - contracting and expanding and clenching around you. Great job, baby. You did a good job keeping up with me. I don’t mind you cumming first. I’d prefer to finish second. Holy shit, you don’t realize how long it’s been since you stepped in the shower, mind focusing on Kazuha and legitimately nothing else. 

“Shh, shh,” you’re saying, a finger to her lips, feel her tongue run against the side of it - and the nod is small, but you’re thinking ahead to what she’ll do next. 

You pull yourself out and slap the tip on her pussy lips, listen closely to the squelch when you slip in again, deeper. You can’t tell if the water on her face is from the shower head or her tears, trickling down as her mouth meets yours. God, her kisses are just like the first ones. 

“Gonna cum again?” you ask, delicately. “You are. Let it out.” 

And Kazuha can breathlessly say yes without the words - she’s cumming, cumming, and wants to show you how badly. You could spend a few more minutes here, conserve the water. Paying the bill and next rounds of games can wait. 

–

There’s no complexity behind it. The sun comes up and the world still spins. 

Some days, Kazuha flutters to you - bare cunt underneath her shirt and you’re catching a second glance. Slaps your ass like every other time and expects you to bring it up later. Which you do. 

Or- 

You’re taking her by surprise, as some lousy excuse to pin her down on the nearest hard surface within reach, perch her hips up to yours until you have to carry her to the shower or bed - only for the mess to come back around again. She tugs the ends of the panties, faintly smacking on her skin, wiggles her perky ass and touches her hair - bundles it up in her hands, her slender back towards you and another spot to deal with some other time. 

“You sure you don't want Yunjin to know?” She asks, snapping you out of your daydream. 

With a quirk of your lips, “Maybe she already knows. But if I speak, I’d be in big trouble.” 

Kazuha tsks. “So wrong for you to leave her out of the fun.” To be fair, she’s more right than wrong. If you were honorable enough to tell the truth, you could’ve told Yunjin to commensurate something with the shared dynamics - albeit way more confusing than it is, because it’s all just for fun, a wacky journey with no destination. 

A rerun of you, fucking Kazuha into puddled pile of pure putty, watch her eyes shimmer when you cum in her mouth, in her hair, paint her pussy with your mess and see her relieved - a deal slipped under the table, unspoken. Yunjin might’ve swapped roles with her in being gullible or oblivious to the signs now - or even back then, you’re not quite convinced. Bottomline: you’ve missed this version of Kazuha. It’s a nice switch up and a way to disconnect and destress from the pressures of the outside world, sheltering and confining yourself since that’s always the best option to have - besides, there’s some work to do still: you got the notice of the final evaluation, from both jobs at the top of your list, somewhat nerve wracking. You’ll have to make a decision, find what fits best for you, which one pays more. Maybe get a second opinion from Yunjin or Kazuha. 

You’ll figure it out as you go along. 

–

When you do ask Yunjin about your little dilemma, part of her attention is on you - at a distance. 

She’s too busy watching Phantom of the Opera after you ate her cunt out while her hourly reading earlier in the day, only because she kept teasing you underneath the desk while on call with the same friend who managed to land a position at their new job. Relax, they’re saying at the time, don’t worry too much and just be ready for what’s to come. 

“Huh? Sorry, ask me again,” Yunjin’s telling you, chin on her shoulder and glances over at you at the kitchen preparing dinner. “The actress’s high note caught me off guard.” 

Kazuha laughs, sitting on the counter and at your side, peeling off lettuce for her salad - proximity minimized to where your hand’s grazing her thigh. “Are you sure Sian’s job is the right one for you?” she asks, rephrasing the question as her own. “I mean, you say you liked the offer from her.” 

“Possibly,” you answer, slicing a carrot, placing the knife down. “She told me she’ll call sometime tomorrow to confirm.” 

“Makes sense,” Yunjin supplies. “Good pay. Office isn’t far, convenient. Also on the fact that she’s pretty to be a manager or in charge? Heavy on the pretty, though.” 

“Right,” you agree, looking at Kazuha, fingers slipping over the rise of her thigh and in. You quirk your eyebrow in suspicion, noticing the lack of underwear (once again) and her folds already soaking. “She really is pretty.” 

Kazuha bites her lip, dips her head down. 

“I think I've made up my mind,” you say, pushing- sliding deeper in, quirk your lip in a ‘shh’ so that Kazuha can keep her voice low. “Might’ve been a pure choice from the start.” 

“You think so?” Yunjin says, puzzled. “That was easy.” 

You and Kazuha both give a confused look at her. Knuckles curled in Kazuha’s walls, inconspicuous and hidden - a familiar reflex and motion of the hand. She’s so slick for you, it’s unfathomable. A whimper rumbles within her chest, and you cough loudly to cover the sound. 

Yunjin glances over for a third time. “Everything okay there?” 

Kazuha sniffles, seamlessly playing along without a proper cue. “The onions,” you’re saying, sheepishly grinning like a dumbass. “Zuha got the first wave of them.” To that, Yunjin laughs, wiggling her head the other direction. “Should’ve been helping me over here instead.” 

“I would,” replies Yunjin, waving her hand up in the air. “But my legs have lost their feeling. Wonder whose fault is that.” 

You shrug your shoulders and carry on your work at the counter. 

–

You’re fielding calls from the shortlist, waiting for one contact. 

Then the phone rings. 

Greetings are exchanged and it’s right down to business: “Drop by the office later. It’ll be brief, I promise. Just checking in one last time on how you feel about the offer.” Sian’s telling you. “Apologies for making you wait.” 

“Nonsense,” you’re beaming, swiping through your belongings and whatever you can fill in your hand. “Wasn’t doing much besides keeping myself busy.” 

Soon you’re on the way out of the door, noticing a box next to your shoes. You don’t remember ordering anything in the past few days, so that theory is eliminated automatically. Yunjin’s made her way to see you off, arms crossed and partially excited. 

You pull your phone away, pointing to the package. You’re mouthing the curiosity, and Yunjin nods. There’s not much to assume: it’s probably a new batch of books for her to read, or some clothes. You don’t suspect much.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be on my way now. See you soon.” 

–

(The interview goes exactly as Sian said it would. 

She’s telling you about the perks about the office and benefits within the first few months. They’re all really good, you can’t deny that. Not to mention the signing bonus. You can’t stop smiling at the new opportunity, ecstatic for what’s in store. 

You’re driving home later and feel like the sun’s burning a little bit brighter than usual - clouds filling up the endless blue sky. 

An attempt is made to call Yunjin, but no answer. You try Kazuha too, no luck. 

There’s the simple assumption that they’re both busy and they’ll see the missed calls before you get back.

A cleared schedule opens up a lot of things.) 

–

Everything seems a lot easier when there isn’t a weight on your shoulders, relieved of stress and the only current worry is hobbling back to your bed and sleeping there for the rest of the day. You click the deadbolt out of place and swing the door open, letting yourself in. “I’m home,” you’re calling out, slipping out of your shoes and the bag gets placed next to the small table where the keys go. “Genuinely thought it was going to take longer-” 

You freeze your movements when you hear the spill of moans close by. 

Because you peek the corner like a kid waiting for Santa Claus - but instead of seeing a red man placing gifts and stealing milk and cookies, you see Kazuha leaning back on the kitchen counter, sitting on the chair with someone else on top of her, leaving fresh marks it could be mistaken of her being bitten from a vampire - the person on top presses her hips up, diving down to her neck, pushing and yanking before you realize she’s getting fucked by- 

“Yunjin, what the fuck!?” you exclaim. 

Yunjin rests her head on Kazuha’s chest, fingers clasping to her shoulder - you’ve seen that wicked look on her face before, devilish and corrupt. Now, in your place: it’s Kazuha pulling her close, tilting her head back when Yunjin shifts her hips up between Kazuha’s legs, dragging out another moan. 

“Welp, I guess we got caught,” says Yunjin, and her strap-on slips out of Kazuha in one simple pull. 

Clearly, you’re confused, bamboozled. Yunjin’s coming back to her senses as she swipes a hair behind her ear, playing the innocent role poorly and none of it makes sense, at all. Your girlfriend and roommate - roommate and girlfriend, and you start to remember- 

“Thought I said that I wasn’t finished,” Kazuha sputters, oblivious of your presence. She’s sitting back up on the chair and clinging to the edge of the counter. “You told me that I’ll have my turn with the strap when you’re done - we barely started.” She’s hitting Yunjin’s arm, hair falling over and panting erratically. “Yunjin, please-” 

“Zuha,” Yunjin taps Kazuha’s shoulder, flicks a finger towards you - authoritative and calm. “I think we have other things to worry about. Also hey hi, I didn’t hear the door open or you walk in.” 

“Well I did,” you say, walking further inside and assessing the scene. Kazuha then sees you in her view and her jaw drops, both shocked and disappointed. “Didn’t want to interrupt your fun little session going on here.” 

“She knows about-” Kazuha tries to speak, covered by Yunjin’s hand, and stops her sentence. 

“You? Us?” you ask. 

“Should’ve told me sooner,” Yunjin butts in, unimpressed with a smirk. “I didn’t expect you’d have a headstart with my suggestion.” 

“Guilty as charged.” 

“Mmfph,” Kazuha tries to say, but the press of Yunjin’s hand is a lot more firm. She’s lost her talking privileges for now. This wasn’t even the worst bit of this incident, you think. 

You’re sighing, undecided, at a crossroads: two girls on your shoulders with very similar,  contrasting perspectives and ideals. Yunjin’s the purest of angels in human form, Kazuha the devil’s advocate living in your house. The thought of you being walked in by Kazuha with Yunjin on your cock was a thing of the past. With Yunjin’s strap filling up Kazuha- 

“How do you suppose we deal with her?” You’re asking, playing into the role of second fiddle to Yunjin’s wishes, wherever she wants to take them, burying your nose into her hair and looking down at Kazuha’s eyes light up in excitement. 

“I think you can help me with that,” declares Yunjin, and for the thousandth time it’s something you’re following through. “Give this girl a proper work up for once.” 

“With pleasure.” 

“But first-” 

“First?” 

Kazuha’s body tenses. “Mmrph??” 

Yunjin’s head dips, licking her lips. Her fingers tap the fabric of your crotch. “Not yet,” she sighs, and she’s teasing the pink head of plastic on Kazuha’s folds. “Actually,” Yunjin’s hearty laugh gives you an idea where this is going, and it’s not looking pretty. “We’re gonna have you watch.” 

–

Where do you even begin with these two? That’s the golden question. 

Think of it this way, a coming of age story would have all the highs and the lows, a sunset drive into the horizon with the top down and music blasting for everyone else to hear, romanticizing both the achievements and shortcomings of each character, tossing snacks to each other and clinking glasses while letting the end credits roll. 

Kazuha and Yunjin, however, lock lips at the couch; you’re breathing deep - you’re slipping down the chair, not quite shameful that you’re not in the act. 

Maybe it’s the fantasy written up in your head - in its purest form and in real time. The ambiance settling down to a space meant to be locked away; shelved behind a drawer and door, never to be seen in the light of day, exclusively for your eyes only. 

Yunjin tilts her head one side with Kazuha on the other, playing along well. Everything about it is down to the last vivid detail: her fingers carding into her hair, gripping, pulling her head up so Kazuha can get more air - slip an arm underneath the arching back and bring her leg up against her heat. You give Yunjin a look when she locks eyes with you, paying no attention to Kazuha peppering her cheek with more kisses and clearly asking for more, giggling as she indulges her request. Their hands trailing all over their unclad bodies, miles of skin between them. They both sigh in relief, finally showing what they cherished the most with each other. There’s no regrets of your actions: you’ve got a piece of Yunjin - what she’s like, same for Kazuha from another period lost to time, but it’s all culminated to this. Soon you’re towering the pair and see the crimson and sweat spread across, willing to have your fill be satisfied by both.

If your sympathy was a knife, you’d turn the blade around and twist it inside yourself. 

Kazuha’s hand grips the belt loop, grinning. Yunjin tugs your hand to her face, kissing it. Wraps her plump pretty lips on your thumb. An unspoken testament of what’s to come. The credence of raw, unfiltered, sin. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Yunjin asks, very silently. Kazuha opens her neck up as an invitation. 

“Oh,” you breathe, softly. Kneeling down at the couch and exchanging glances. “You have no idea.” 

(Show me everything. Show us everything, they said, partially devious. How bad your impurities are. We want it all. We deserve it all.) 

–

Maybe all of this was the long-awaited culmination; Kazuha’s mind is so far gone, back pinned against the wall like she knows you and Yunjin are about to ruin every part of her body. Clothes are being slipped off your frame, pooling onto the floor and soon to be ignored till the next morning. Yunjin’s hands graze your middle, feeling the hardened muscle - sighing into your neck and flashes a look across. 

“Should I know how long you two kept this from me?” she asks, half-curious. Well aware of the answer. 

You keep your gaze on Kazuha while pulling your head back - observing, but flicking your eyes back and forth. “Would it be best to hear it from the person responsible?” you say, seeing Kazuha’s face shift from her to yours and unsure who to choose. 

“Figured there were signs,” Kazuha answers, lifting her leg up at the crease of her knee, giving an implication. It’s not a pressure point - not yet, at least - an angle where you can jump in and double down on. “If they weren’t obvious enough.” 

“Are we seriously playing dumb here?” Yunjin then follows up, twisting her head. “Right now? Of all times?” 

“Choose your words wisely,” you’re saying, towering over the girl in your arms - a subtle warning. 

“You’ll be a good girl, yes?” Yunjin adds. “Then we’ll see if you deserve it.” 

Kazuha snickers, sound bouncing off the hallway, and you and Yunjin both sigh in dejection - though, Yunjin slaps Kazuha’s thigh, prompting you to pin her lower half to the drywall. “I see we’re at a bad start already,” she’s saying, and her arm slithers up to your chest, “you keep acting like this, Zuha, we’re gonna have some issues. Not to mention,” she’s rambling, taking a step back to open the space in flipping Kazuha around with her back in view, arms up instinctually and hips moving back, Yunjin’s arms crossed over her chest with the strap-on in her hand, instigating. “I think it’s best if he takes the first crack in breaking you.” 

“How generous,” you tell her, leaning down to kiss the fine line of Kazuha’s spine. “I thought you’d be more cruel.” 

Yunjin grins, finger to her teeth. “That’s more of your thing rather than mine.” 

“Liar,” you growl, and it’s a small reveal of your true intent, bringing them close and never letting go - your arm pulls Yunjin back in, gasping at the sudden move. Yunjin giggles, teetering into a small moan; you look down and she takes the hint in feeling Kazuha’s ass, listening to the hitched breaths, see the slightest scrunch of her shoulder. “Don’t think that you can hide away from me, either,” And you slap your hand firmly on the fresh skin, Kazuha slipping out a yelp in response - “I know you want your fun as well, baby.” Your thumb and index pinch both of her cheeks, squishing. “Unless you’d prefer to watch.” 

“You know me. I’ll have my go if you’re willing.” 

“I’m still down here,” interrupts Kazuha. “Why don’t you-” 

Here was the perfect time to show Kazuha again what you’re made of - you grip both of your hands to the swell of her hips, pushing them up until all of her chest is flush with the wall in front - her hand flies back to yours; clawing the skin on your arm, your hips- 

“Watch it,” you snarl, grabbing her wrist and putting it along the small of her back, hoping to break the tension. Technically, she’s doing the opposite. 

She squirms in your hands for a few more seconds, resisting. The grunts coming out of her mouth don’t apply to you; Kazuha’s feet skating across the floor, widening the stance, spilling out pleas- 

“Fucking swear to God,” she harshly swears, and you’re with her; Yunjin’s taking another step back, leaning. She can’t help but smile at the authority, the general hierarchy you’re used to giving her. Throwing out orders and demands - Kazuha with her insightful snarks, nowhere to be heard or seen as she’s finally getting a taste of her own medicine- 

Both of Kazuha’s arms are behind her back. She’s helpless once you’ve finally got a hold on her. 

“How long is it gonna take you to fuck me or force me to watch you fuck Yunjin instead?” she whines, persistent. Her hands cup the sides of your hips, pushing her ass back - you don’t fight it, laser focused on her face. “Didn’t realize that we’re dishing out my punishment like this right off the bat.” 

“We’re getting there,” you agree, and you’re palming her breast beneath the shirt, clumping up the fabric - thumbing a nipple and pinching. “Yunjin will have her fun too when I’m done with you.” 

You look right at Yunjin and she nods. 

She’s keeping herself occupied with the strap-on in her hand, putting her pouty lips on the silicone tip, licking shamelessly and her other hand to her legs - cheeks flushed in a hot pink and eyes trained on you. You’d expect her to watch - let her have her own fun in the meantime. She’s so good; fucking you and Kazuha both, though it’s somewhat on par or incomparable to the roughing up you’re gonna do to Kazuha as a means of staying true to your word. Her tongue laves the side of plastic, lowers it down to her hips, hoping to tease and have that ache sated until her turn comes along to be taken, fucked mercissely, ruthlessly.

You lift a brow for the final confirmation, and Yunjin matches it. 

“You can watch of course, baby,” you say, and Yunjin’s face lights up. “Go ahead, do what you need to do.” 

Yunjin twists her back to the wall, head tilted while her legs spread wider to welcome the space of the strap-on between her legs - you’ve curled your arm around Kauzha’s hip, rub her clit from that angle, stroking slowly at her leaking slit; so yeah, this girl leaks sex. As for you: you’re eating it up. Knowing that there’s another pair of eyes on you, greedily staring once you get on one knee, place a trail of kisses to the backside of Kazuha’s thigh, bundle up the oversized shirt in your hands. You hook your palms to the fold of her legs, brush your nose in her cunt, taste the droplets on your tongue- 

“Are we observing?” You ask Yunjin. “Not the first time I’ve seen you use a dildo in front of me.” Your mouth sucks in the dripping slick of Kazuha’s pussy, earns you a sharp inhale through her teeth. Biting down on one of her folds and pulling. “I wanna see you ruined before I have the chance myself.” 

Your gaze shifts back to Kazuha because you know Yunjin will follow whatever you say. Even when your cock is brushing up against Kazuha’s slit, pushing in her pussy and the girl sings a broken note. 

Kazuha, by instinct, tilts her head down, overwhelmed, choking on the bob in her throat; all it takes is one firm snap of your hips in and it’s not enough time to get accustomed to the stretch - that deep, open stretch, her cunt pressuring you so tight, addicting - you’re amazed at how she can pick up things quickly, breathing steadily with every stroke, see her eyes at the corners, upping the intensity, twisting her head back forcefully and curve the arch a bit more deeper- 

A makeshift ponytail is created without a second thought, locking the stare in and keeping it frozen, failing to maintain composure when she’s moments away from finally breaking in front of you, or Yunjin. Kazuha’s pride is always one thing she holds close. Snuff it out of her and there’s nothing, and she can’t deny it: the way that she’s trying so hard to not be a completely needy, slutty bitch. 

“What’s wrong, huh?” you’re taunting - imitating her snark - man, it’s so nice not to be on the receiving end in one of those. “Wasn’t this the punishment you asked for? Well guess what?” You’re grasping at her cheek that it brushes yours. “It’s here, Zuha. Just me, you, Yunjin, and your dirty little cunt, all for us to have.” 

“All talk, still,” Kazuha remarks, syllables barely stable. She’s so shrunk down over your presence that when your cock is in play, it splits her body in two, crumbling her: she can spit out words for days, but knows that she’s vulnerable in a fight. “You’re not even putting effort into me. Fucking christ- asshole. Just-” 

You can’t help but chuckle - actually laugh, because the insults don’t hurt like they used to back then, that added layer in the dynamic where you’ll take the punch and send it right back. You’re slamming your hips in, press your fingers into her hip; Kazuha can keep giving you shit, but you see her head hit the drywall, eyes lidded and mouth quirked to keep it all in. There’s no point - she’s gushing on your cock, clamping. 

“Just what?” You yank her hips out and in, make her yelp at the change in pace. “Stop? Keep going? I can’t tell what you’re asking for and neither can Yunjin.” Yunjin herself lets out a breathy sigh - the strap-on’s worked well inside her cunt, matching the strokes as best she can; at this point, you’re just waiting for her to squirt on the floor. “Could’ve sworn you were greedy a few days ago when I fucked you in the back of the car, don’t lie to me.” 

“Maybe.” You slide in - genuinely fucking her. Kazuha tries to let it go casually the way you’re cock’s tearing inside her - you’ll give her the ‘A’ for attempting. That feeling can’t be ignored - she’s close, rising within - it’s in the lines of her face, her body, it’s showing. “Fuck - that’s not the point. I couldn’t be more desperate for your cock unlike Yunjin.” 

She’s not saying it for Yunjin’s sake, but also for her own: smiling through the pleasure despite her body nearly shutting down and breaking on your cock. All that ego, that bullshit given all these years, it’s all gone in an instant. It was a pipe dream to fuck the boldness out of her - you’ll come close, but not close enough. You’ll fuck her truly in the way that she wants - and the glint over her shoulder pierces through your eyes. Do your worst, you imagine her saying. I’d love to see you try. 

So, you’ll give exactly the worst thing to her. You’ll make her cum on your cock. 

You let go of her face, grab her tit before sliding down to her pussy. “Look at you,” you tell her, matching the smirk she gave you on the couch the other day, recalling, “nowhere to go.” 

Kazuha parts her mouth, ready to dart back with a witty response - or tries to - rocked with her high so intense that it’s bubbling in her throat, on her tongue. She’s there, thanks to you; Yunjin’s honoring your request, wincing, sliding that silicone cock inside- 

She’s up next, you’re not forgetting. You take Kazuha - all the way in, past her orgasm, let her shoulders go slack, breath in thin wisps, hand losing grip and slipping from your sweat, and you’re grinding your cock deep in her - all the way down to the base, where the blowback of your balls tapping her clit, prolongs the feeling - a new sensation; fuck, she feels so fucking good- 

“How do we deal this out, you suppose?” You ask Yunjin, breathless, head held high, breaking your gaze and towards your girlfriend. “Should I carry on what I’m doing?” Kazuha whimpers when you’re massaging her ass, slowly driving your cock back in, softening the blow. “Do whatever our little slut wishes?” 

You and Kazuha both glance at Yunjin together, slick dripping down her thighs, small threads plastered on your hips, and Yunjin slides the strap-on out of her like it’s a restraint. Kazuha slides off your cock, leans back to your embrace, legs quivering - you gave her a lot to handle, that’s for sure. But you’re not done yet. Not until Yunjin’s got her chance. 

Yunjin herself is treated to such a sight, cum soaked on the plastic in her hand, but when you sweep her close she’s already falling: like she knows you’ll catch her whenever and doesn’t have to worry about a damn thing. You’re eying her eyes, those plump pretty lips, her long legs rivaling Kazuha’s, her leaking cunt - she’s shifting in your arm, like one look sends sparkles in her eyes. She’s waiting, patiently - lets you do anything to her without saying a single word. 

“Enjoyed the show, love?” You’re scratching the sweet spot behind her head and her neck relaxes. It’s those earthy eyes you can’t get enough of, love drunk and over her head with her switch flipped - hot and crazy in love she’ll want everything. “How does it feel seeing lovely little Zuha finally get humbled?” 

“I’ll literally cut your dick off if you don’t shut your fucking mouth,” retorts Kazuha, twisting her neck so she could face you. No matter how much of a pain in the ass she is while getting fucked, she’ll own that role close to her heart. 

Yunjin flashes a smile, and you smile back. Coming to a consensus. “Not enough for her, sadly.” 

Kazuha takes advantage for once, hurling your body against the hallway now, and making you shuffle back past the open door to the room. Yunjin fails at the mediary with her chin on her shoulder, pushing her weight so that the ratio is two-to-one. Both of their eyes are insane, glittering crystals and with a primal ferocity behind them - holy fuck, is it sexy, moments away from victory. Backing you into a corner where there’s no opening for escape. 

“Make you eat your fucking words out,” Kazuha says, voice unfazed when she just came on your cock a few minutes ago, “Better hope you won’t get the chance again.” 

“Careful Zuha,” Yunjin butts in, hoping to alleviate the tenacious threat. “You wouldn’t want to get on his bad side again.” 

“What she said,” you remark - leaving it at that for now. 

“Okay then,” Kazuha tuts, grabbing your face for a kiss, clawing your hair, soothing it. “I’m tagging Jen Jen in.” 

With that, Yunjin pushes Kazuha off to the foot of the bed and topples over you, claiming her prize. 

There’s a passing of the torch in the form of the strap-on - Kazuha takes it and wiggles on the bed - while you’re wrestling for control with Yunjin, grasping her waist and flipping her over so that she’s under, fingers in familiar spots where you’ve left marks and bruises before - ready to it again. “Guess you’re up,” you mumble - feeling the knuckles of Yunjin’s hand on your face before she fiddles with the cuff of your ear, pinching. You’re surveying the planes of her body, targeting the areas where it’ll hurt. “You could never have enough of my cock as it is.” 

An instant curveball when you slap her inner thigh twice, flip her over and slap her ass, then roll back to her cunt. 

Yunjin shrieks - Kazuha inhales deep at the sound when she pushes the strap-on in her cunt. You smack again, put your mouth to hers and funnel the noise down your neck. This was new to the script, and you’re certain it’ll stay. 

There’s no other pretense to act on, and you bury your cock inside her cunt. 

She is fucking dripping; given the mewls and moans petering out of her mouth, your ears focus on the sweet sound of slick as her pussy takes all of you, stretching and sliding in the ways you made her break, the noises heavenly, a symphony alone as you get back into true pace - you’re fucking her cunt so hard that it’s almost snapping her spine in half, or make her lose the feeling in her legs. Ah, you’re just treating yourself - possibly. Kazuha’s fucking herself right next to you two and has a front row seat of the one in many acts about to unfold- 

Her pussy is incredible - that’s just the jist of it, the meaning already written to existence long before you came along, Yunjin’s just huffing along, the size too grand to bear- 

“Good?” You know for damn sure it’s good. Her neck is a nice place for your hand to rest, siphoning the remaining air trapped in her lungs. The last gasp for more, taken away. “Yeah, you know it’s good. Same kind of sluttiness I expected with Kazuha. What would I ever do without you - getting off with your cunt and fucking you as I please. God, baby- it’s so fucking tight down there, I could never-” 

You’re left speechless when you abruptly pull out, slap your cockhead along her clit and she’s gushing everywhere, spraying the sheets, squirting in mere seconds. Kazuha drops her jaw in shock, ecstatic, amazed- 

“Kazuha’s in her own world, and she’s living in it,” You snap your hips, yank her body, sending another aftershock - your hands will never leave. “It shouldn’t be this easy, babe - the way that you’re just one, insufferable, cocktease-” 

Yunjin crunches her eyes, and her lower half subconsciously rolls with yours. She’s one to have her moment, but the way that she’s just taking it - so fucking well- 

“This strap couldn’t fill her enough,” Kazuha chides. And that’s the daunting realization - it’s one thing to keep things mundane, by the book, but this: the degrading, the power going to your head, the advantages you seized for yourself, you’re speaking listless shit and giving less of a fuck for your own benefit. “Now you got a taste of your own medicine, honey. All that talk about having all of him when he clearly has sights for others. Now he’s got me to deal with if you’re not around; and look at him, he’s really greedy. 

Yunjin’s sobbing, tears seeping at the corners. You’re close - everything in your body expanding and rushing to the peak - but her scared expression makes you think otherwise, spares a second thought. 

“Do you believe that, sweetheart?” You grit, releasing your grip around her throat, leaning for a kiss and it brings her back to life. “Tell us how it feels.” 

Kazuha’s scooting closer, the silicon impaled deep in her cunt, tapping her clit at a fast pace. She’s conservative, yet so smug that it’s rubbing on Yunjin instead, the build up is there, voices rising, crescendoing- 

“It’s so good, so- fuck, so fucking good,” she spits, mouth trembling and the rest of the words are in tongues - and you’re sure that you’ve broke her once again. “I love this cock so much - I can’t even begin to describe how well it fucks me, taking me just to dump your cum, come back for more - please, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-” 

On instinct, she taps your thigh. A signal to let you know she has a different play in mind. 

You snap your gaze back to Kazuha and she immediately takes the hint, a wicked grin spread on her lips to sell the implied message. 

From there it’s a simple one-two, a bait and switch. You slide out of Yunjin’s well fucked cunt and swoop Kazuha’s legs, pulling her over to you while Yunjin staggers back on the bed, taking the strap-on tossed to her so she can simmer down the aching heat engulfing her stomach. You don’t even register the quick inhale Kazuha does when you seamlessly slip back inside her waiting cunt and pick up right where you left off with her - and the screams level with the incessant slaps of skin on skin. 

“Back for more, are you?” Kazuha grunts, sucking in her gut from the pull on her shoulders and into your cock. “Such a shameless boy.” 

“Shut your fucking mouth, whore.” You’re bearing no mind to the word sputtered out. The only thing in your head is taking your roommate’s pussy and making it yours. Nothing more, nothing less. “Gonna ruin this cunt now.” 

“Hold still and look pretty,” demands Yunjin, and she’s on Kazuha’s side, strap-drunk as Kazuha’s head tips back and slides her hand down her abs to her cunt, watching you fuck and fuck and fuck into Kazuha - wrecked and full of your cock, like you needed this to relieve the stress out your body, and Yunjin’s face twists to something more evil, twisted, witnessing a prophecy come to fruition- 

“Look at our cute cocksleeve go.” Yunjin’s fingers tap your forearm, nails clawing curves into your skin - the sting going unnoticed as the thrusts keep moving - another sense acquired, you’re sweating, overheating. “I’m sure he came in you already, and guess what? He’s gonna ruin your tight cunt and fill you up to the brim - when we’re done with you, you’re gonna have to be carried around the house-” 

Kazuha cries and cums on your waist - Yunjin sits up, fingers fast to the crease of her legs, surprised and seeing it all unfold. As for you, you’re tensing, gritting teeth together, cumming inside her cunt, the release sought after now tumbling in true bliss- 

“Oh, no. We can’t have you be that loud now.” 

Yunjin waddles over on her knees to Kazuha’s head, angles her head, and pushes the plastic cock between her lips, smothering with her own spit - see the bob form in her throat when she takes it halfway in. 

You’re still going, pulling out and sliding your tip across her folds, soaked in white and convinced that there’s more for you to offer. The strokes are consistent, long enough for another minute or so until you’re spilling a second load in her walls, pumping her full. 

“God, fucking- Jesus. Kazuha-” 

“Mmfrjmph,” she’s got herself full of other things to worry about than your leaking cum in her pussy. 

“Jen, switch.” You give the order and your girlfriend drags her hips away from Kazuha’s face. From the second you pull your cock out, white strips start to drip onto the sheets. Your mind’s barely there, putting every fiber of muscle from the nerves to get you at the headboard of the bed and settle into a comfortable position - and Yunjin flips Kazuha over, hooks her hands to her hips, dragging it towards her crotch, she managed to get the strap-on in time, pointing the length to her cunt, picking up small ribbons at the tip. 

“Think she needs a little clean up before you have your fun,” you suggest, fingers buried deep into the threads of Kazuha’s hair and forming it into a lazy bun, ignoring the little ‘ah’ from her lips and focusing her head on your softening cock. “Unless you’re gonna jump right in and get sloppy.” 

“You’ve made my point beautifully,” Yunjin agrees, lowering her head and raising Kazuha’s hips up so she can get the taste of both, pushing her back down and deepening the arch with a lick of her lips. “You taste good.” 

“Are you saying that to me? Or Zuha?” 

“Whatever answer you like.” 

Kazuha, as always, refuses to pay attention. Rather- her attention is drawn back to your cock, tongue sweeping the underside, your head falling back and hitting the wood behind, feeling her mouth lap up the mess of your cum slicked cock and slide your hips deeper into the mattress. This is heaven for her, for Yunjin too. A truce made once the damage has been done- 

“Don’t go too hard on Zuha, she’s been through a lot.” you tell her, but it’s more of a blessing in disguise when you and Yunjin are on the same page in most cases. A girl like Kazuha on her hands and knees, a collective effort fulfilled. 

Yunjin cackles and there’s no further meaning there, the tone sweet, syrupy - you could get drunk on it every single time her face brightens up. She’s leaning over to kiss you, arms wobbling in support so that she doesn’t fall on top of Kazuha, and it’s happened before. “Aw, well that’s too bad. I was gonna give her that and nothing else,” she tells you, smacking her lips off of you. Her hands rest at the swell of Kazuha’s waist, kneading and slapping lightly as a light tease. “You think I can’t hold my own.” 

You’re seeing a warble in the room somewhere - on Yunjin. The outer line of her stature warps in your vision - hot, messy, maliciously - jerking Kazuha’s hips back and brushes her hips to her ass.” 

“Yunjin, fuck- holy shit-” 

Kazuha gasps, smiling. The babbles are complete gibberish, filthy - Yunjin’s ramming her strap inside her ass, cum being pushed well into Kazuha’s womb, poking a little bump in her stomach, speeding up the motion and clawing wherever she can. Kazuha swallows up your cock, brushing the head at the top of her throat, humming - the vibrations bringing you back to life- 

“She’s built for taking pain,” Yunjin assesses, experimental. She has no regard for her best friend - and you see the whites in Kazuha’s eyes roll back, her lips sealed at the base and understands where she lies between you two. It’s where she’s meant to be, it seems. You could drop witty drawls and creative comebacks; when it comes to fucking her, neither of you expected her to this soaked. “What a slut. Not even a proper dick-down and spanking can’t shut you up.” 

Kazuha’s slurps mesh with the words. “I - mmrfph - fine, I swear. Okay-” 

It’s somewhat comprehending to have her like this, split in two and mouth full of your cock. “Yeah, she’s good. Kazuha- Kazuha, baby.” 

There’s nothing better than this. 

Kazuha getting her hole fucked, sucking you dry. 

She sucks. 

And sucks. 

“If there’s anything that we’ve learned,” Yunjin says mid-thrust, pointing Kazuha’s leg up to the ceiling, deepening the angle, “We both can fuck her brains to mush if we wanted to. Any time in the day, just pull her aside and tell her what to do. What do ya think?” 

You’re nodding, stuttering. Kazuha’s mouth has you speechless. “I have no objections,” you barely say, thighs tensing and shaking. “Yunjin, I’m gonna cum in her mouth.” 

“Then go ahead,” Yunjin tells you, and you do. Kazuha cheeks puff up at the eruption, streams of white leaking at the corners, satisfied. 

Yunjin gives one more good thrust for measure, slides the strap-on out of her fucked cunt, exhaustion collapsing her body, pleased and content with her end of the bargain - the strap-on gets tossed off the bed and onto the floor, made well with its use and disregarded. 

She rolls over to your side soon after, glancing. Kazuha’s face clearly spent and drifting off to sleep. For the time being. 

–

“We might’ve killed her,” you tell Yunjin peepingyour head past the door frame to see Kazuha’s unmoving body on the bed, “Is it worth checking if she’s breathing?” 

There’s the last remnants of what unfolded hours ago, the quick debrief - that kind of thing. You’ve got your head full of mixed emotions; each one of them occurring in passing seconds: happiness, satisfaction, remorse - unsure and nervous, kind of, it’s been a long night anyway. 

(She’ll wake up in the morning and feel sore. But if her first words of the day are related to bearing you, that’s a clear sign she’s back to normal.) 

“Kazuha’s a good catch,” Yunjin says. “If anything, she’ll complain about her thighs being tight.” 

“In relation to her pilates?” You flip the cup over and let the water flow into the drain. Yunjin’s patting your face with a damp towel. “Or the sex?” 

“Both,” and she smiles. You purse your lips in agreement. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect you to match her energy well.” 

“How could I not? C’mon, the girl was asking for it.” You laugh dryly. 

“Point taken,” Yunjin concedes and opens her limbs to let you in the middle, wrap them around and embrace you fully. Her borrowed shirt crumpling in, folding and forming creases alike. “You’re too good at this.” 

You give her a fond grin. “Wanna tell me that again?” 

“No.”

“No?” 

To suffice, she slots her lips to yours, leans back and taps the bathroom mirror. “Okay, it’s past our bedtime already.” 

You find yourself slipping through the chestnut pools and the titian waves - an endless valley to get lost in, the light radiating perfectly to where it highlights and complements the shades well. You’ve said a lot of things to her, more than you can probably count. 

“Love us,” you’re proclaiming, preaching to the open air. Her dragged grin pulls you deeper, and you spot the scrunch at the bridge of her brows: she couldn’t agree more. Then it reverts back to normal: “lose the shirt, we’ll share the body heat under the sheets.” 

–

The first day with drastic changes beckoning are scary.

This is nothing new.

Starting from scratch, conceptually, is always a new brush of inspiration, no matter what the event is. Luckily, it’s reassuring that you’re not facing these new horizons alone. With a guy like you, that has wonderful people in your corner - willing to support any endeavor you indulge in, it’s empowering. You’re convinced that the clouds part in the sky for the sun to fill the endless canvas of blue and you feel that whatever’s manifested in your mind will eventually come true. 

You have the same old pattern with Yunjin: take her out somewhere nice every now and then, waste your time doing nothing on some days, hold her heels or bag without her asking, let her treat you well whenever she feels like it. You share the usual banter, fuck her if things get boring, give her a lot of things to deal with that she’ll brush off later. 

With Kazuha, it’s a dice roll: 

She still spits out shit to you with no reason, and you return the favor and fuck her till she begs for more, gets into petty arguments until she comes walking back without saying a word, unable to take compliments, rambles endless fantasies waiting to be fulfilled more than just once. And you accept that she won’t let you off easily. 

When the two of them are together, sitting across from you or on their knees; backs on the bed or one eating out the other's cunt, it’s a place of a guaranteed connection; one that’s massively fucked up and with a million ways to go about with the pair. You and Yunjin know this - and between the three of you, it remains unsaid. 

“Got everything?” Yunjin asks, handing your trusted tumbler and ruffling up your hair, dusting off your windbreaker like a mom seeing off their child for school. “Expecting a slow day, aren’t you?” 

“You know me,” you drawl, grinning. “I’d much rather waste my time here and get paid for it.” 

The back of your head nicks forward as a response from behind, looking past your shoulder to see Kazuha tilt her head in view, getting a closer look of your appearance and drawing up her own assessment. “Until one of us get another job, it seems like you’re the main breadwinner of the household.” 

“Zuha, him and I were expecting your half of the rent for this month,” says Yunjin, hand to her hip and pouting, “Wanna tell us where the fuck it is?” 

Kazuha sashays herself next to Yunjin, inciting a staredown that ends after two seconds, shaking her head and dodging the question entirely. “Don’t worry about it. But I have the money, I swear.” 

“And what if you don’t have it when he comes back?” Yunjin asks Kazuha, rolling her eyes before shifting her gaze back to normal, “Then what?” 

You’re making your way out as the two continue with the quick argument, disregarding their attention. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll be heading out now.” 

“Can I fuck her again while you’re gone?’ Yunjin then asks, shouldering her weight to Kazuha. “At least until-” 

You sigh. 

“I’d like to ask the same question, but do it on Yunjin,” Kazuha replies. 

(It’s a lot on your plate with Yunjin. Sure. Kazuha’s added herself to the mix - and it’s a tad bit more complicated. Maybe worse. Fuck all you know: you like them both.) 

“I’ll handle you two later,” you’re telling the pair, and they know you mean every word - a promise. “Feel free to get started.” After, you see yourself out the door. 

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ

fluff, childhood friends to lovers, pet-names, awkwardness, flirting, unresolved feelings, nostalgia, "pretty princess", cute, awkward boy energy, 12 years of teasing

based off this request by @throatgoat4u !!!

word count - 1k

She was a princess. That much was obvious.

Matt decided it the moment he saw her that day, twirling in one of those shiny, puffy dresses, the kind with too many layers and a scratchy tulle skirt. The kind that came with a matching plastic tiara and sparkles that would end up clinging to his skin for weeks. It was just for dress up day in first grade, but none of that really mattered—because to six year old Matt, she was a real princess.

“You look like a real princess,” he told her, because it was the truth. She beamed at him, cheeks warm, hands smoothing over the puffy skirt like she wanted to believe it too.

From that moment on, he stuck to it.

“Princesses don’t have to carry their own backpacks,” he announced, puffing out his chest as he wrestled it off her shoulders and threw it onto his own.

She stared at him, confused. “What?”

“Princesses get the last cookie too.” He handed it over without hesitation, completely serious about it.

Her fingers tightened around the snack, but she didn’t take a bite. “Why are you being weird?”

Matt blinked at her, as if she was the one who didn’t understand. “Because you’re a princess. That’s just how it works.”

And that was that.

He took the title very seriously.

“Princesses shouldn’t have to run,” he said another time, grabbing her wrist and pulling her along when the school bell rang, like some noble knight leading her to safety.

“Princesses get to pick the game,” he told their friends when she hesitated on the playground.

“Princesses don’t open doors by themselves,” he added, dramatically pulling open the classroom door and bowing like the boys did in the books his mom read him and his brothers.

And worst of all—worst of all—he kept saying it.

“Here you go, princess.”

“Need help, your highness?”

“Be careful, pretty princess.”

Because his mom told him that’s what you call a princess, and Matt always listened to his mom.

She didn’t know why, but she hated it. And she loved it. But she still didn’t know what it meant.

One day, Matt stopped her while she was playing with her friends, looking at her like he was thinking really hard about something.

“Your hair’s all pretty, like a princess’s,” he said, his face turning pink. “Like, it’s all shiny, and it looks soft, like the princesses in the movies. You know, the ones with the crowns.”

She blinked at him, confused. “Huh?”

Matt scratched his head. “I just mean, your hair’s pretty. Like a princess.” He seemed kind of nervous, but he kept staring at her like he wanted to say more.

She looked away quickly, but she felt all warm inside. “It’s just hair,” she mumbled.

Matt pouted. “No, it’s princess hair.”

She didn’t know how to say it, but that made her feel kind of good. Weird, but good.

The next day at recess, Matt sprinted at her from across the playground, her legs dangling from the swing.

“Princess!” he said like he just figured something out. “You look pretty even when you don’t have your dress on.”

She tilted her head. “What?”

“You’re always so careful,” Matt said, swinging his feet back and forth. “Like, you’re looking at everything, even the clouds and the flowers and stuff. Princesses do that. They look at everything and think it’s all special.”

She didn’t really get it, but it made her feel funny in a nice way. She started to walk away from the strange boy.

“And you’ve got a princess face,” Matt added quickly, like he didn’t want to forget. “Your eyes are warm, and your cheeks are blushing!”

She didn’t get it. Every time he said it, something squirmy and warm settled in her stomach, and she didn’t know why. She folded her arms tight against her chest and scowled, but Matt only grinned like he was proud of himself.

“You don’t have to call me that,” she mumbled, kicking at a loose pebble on the sidewalk.

Matt blinked at her, genuinely confused. “But you are a princess.”

She stomped her foot. “I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

She hated it. She loved it. And she had no idea what it meant.

She turned and looked back at him once more, before running off to play in the sandpit.

The princess thing had faded, buried under years of growing up and forgotten playground games.

Now, they’re just good friends who have grown up together. Having a normal night, him dropping her off after a group movie night at his house. 

But as Matt pulls into her driveway, she doesn’t expect it. The way he glances at her, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he says, almost casually—

“You always were pretty, princess.”

It’s like a wave crashing over her, and for a moment, she can’t breathe. She blinks, trying to catch her composure. “What?”

Matt shrugs like it’s nothing. “What?”

Her stomach twists, and she glares at him. “You can’t just say stuff like that, Matt.”

“Like what?” His lips twitch. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “I’m just saying. You do look like a pretty princess. Six year old me knew what he was talking about.”

And now she’s thinking about it. Thinking about everything he said back then. For a second, she tries to brush it off. Tries to convince herself it’s just the same old teasing, just the same old nickname. But it’s not. Not anymore. Her heart’s racing, and she can’t make it stop.

All of a sudden, he jumps out of the car, speeding quickly around to her side. 

Matt opens the door with a grin, leaning against it, slightly out of breath, like he’s done this a million times.

“Go ahead, princess.”

She hates him.

She hates him.

And her hands are shaking when she unbuckles her seatbelt.

creds to rose for the dividers !! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: i hope u like it nini this one was a struggle but she's cute. also semi-inspired by this blurb by @snoopychris

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @hazedsturns @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart @cowboylikenat @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss @throatgoat4u @shadowthesim237 @emely9274 @sturnberries @bluestriips @lovergirl4gracieabrams @chrisslut04 @tezzzzzzzz

till next time !!

[astrolook]

Astrology of Almost: Why You Keep Getting So Close (But Never Quite There)

Ever feel like you're always almost getting what you want? Like the universe is dangling success, love, or opportunities in front of you, only to snatch them away at the last second? Yeah. These birth chart placements that turn life into a never-ending game of so close, yet so far.

Saturn in the 10th house – Career achievements feel like they come with a 20-year waiting period and a soul-crushing trial first.

Mars square Saturn – You have the drive, but something (or someone) is always in the way. Feels like running a marathon… in quicksand.

Venus retrograde – Love life? A series of almost-relationships, missed connections, and texting “what if” at 2 AM.

Mercury retrograde in the 3rd house – Constantly misreads important emails. Probably missed a life-changing opportunity because it went to spam.

Neptune in the 1st house – The main character of a romantic tragedy where people admire you but never choose you.

Chiron in the 7th house – Attracts soulmates who are just here to teach painful lessons before moving on to find happiness with someone else.

Jupiter in the 12th house – Luck is always technically there, but it’s hidden like an Easter egg in a game you don’t know how to play.

Pluto square Sun – Every time you think you’re thriving, the universe says, “Time for another transformation!” and flips the table.

Uranus in the 6th house – Tries to stick to a routine but ends up in chaotic job situations where stability is almost within reach… before everything implodes.

Saturn on the North Node – Destiny? Yeah, you’ll get there. But only after life drags you through a decade of delays, obstacles, and hard-earned lessons.

Moon opposite Neptune – Dreams big, but self-doubt and a sneaky sense of disillusionment make every goal feel just out of reach.

Venus in the 8th house – Deep, soul-stirring love? Sure! But only after a cycle of karmic partners who emotionally wreck you first.

Mercury square Neptune – Says all the right things in the wrong moments. Ever had a genius thought, only to forget it the second you open your mouth?

Mars in the 12th house – Wants to take action, but overthinks so much that the moment passes. Probably almost punched someone but never followed through.

South Node in the 2nd house – Financial stability is almost easy… until you self-sabotage because of past-life issues with money.

Saturn in the 5th house – The universe looks at your creative projects and love life and says, “Patience, child.” Forever.

Neptune in the 10th house – Career path? More like a mystical fog. Almost lands the dream job, but somehow ends up in situationships with employers instead.

Jupiter square Venus – Attracts good things but always overdoes it. Ever almost had financial success before blowing it on a big risk?

Sun square Uranus – Wants to be different, but being unique comes with constant unexpected roadblocks. Almost fits in, almost stands out… stuck in between.

Basically, if your life feels like a cosmic joke where everything almost works out, your birth chart is probably guilty. But don’t worry—the universe is just making sure you really earn it.

✨ Curious about what’s holding you back? DM me for a complete astrology reading and let’s decode your chart! ✨

[crystallilytarot02]

Think about someone and let's see what would they say to you?

Pile 1

This person wants to say you can do it! You are very talented, way more than you think. Believe in yourself, be confident, you have the boss in you. You are smart, deep down you know already what to do. Maybe you are moving on from something /someone, there can be some change in your life. And it's always hard in the beginning, but they say believe them, it's for the better. You will have way more than before, you will be in a better place, you will have peace, hope, creativity, passion in your life again finally. You will also have good people with you, good friends, and I think a special someone is coming too.

Pile 2

This message is possibly from your future partner. They are coming! You should take care of yourself, love yourself, and enjoy your life. It seems you will meet unexpectedly, and out of nowhere you will have other changes in your life too. Even within the chaos, don't forget what is your dreams, goals, values. If it's too much, take a break, you don't need to change everything in one day. If you want to travel or move, it will happen too. A year later, if you look back, your life will be so different. But don't worry, it's all good things, though sometimes can be overwhelming, so rest and gain your strength whenever you can.

Pile 3

There's a person you already know and maybe you had a fight or you lost touch. But they still think about you, and they care about you deep down. I think you will meet again, be it an ending, a proper goodbye, reunion, but even if it's sad, it will bring peace to you. You still have something to do with each other, there's a lot of things you don't know about the situation. So you need to talk about it. This can be a sudden, unexpected meeting. But somehow it's important, even if you are mad now, but this can have a connection to a good change, news, good luck, so don't reject it.

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Regret |10|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: Threats of Murder

Word Count: 1.5k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Tara’s eyes darted around the park; she had her hands shoved in her pockets, so she’d stop fiddling with her jacket. She was the one who told you to go with Gale, she assured you that everything was going to be fine, she was sure of that, at least at the time she was. She was right next to Sam, Kirby was in a van with Chad, Mindy, and Ethan close by, and Bailey was sitting on a bench not too far away, they were all connected so they could hear the call from Ghostface when it came in. But you weren’t here, Tara came so close to losing you in the apartment and now you weren’t here, you were halfway across town.

“They’ll be okay,” Sam said. Tara shook her head, getting out of her mind as she gave her sister a questioning look. “They’ll be fine.” Tara nodded; she looked down at the pathway as they continued their walk. “They’re with Gale, they’re perfectly safe.”

Tara couldn’t help but scoff at that. She didn’t think Gale would let anything happen to you, despite everything, Gale did care about you. Still, even without Ghostface lurking around every corner Tara didn’t like the idea of you being alone with Gale. Gale has already hurt you so much, no amount of groveling will ever change that, Tara just didn’t want you to get hurt again.

“Gale won’t let anything happen to them,” Sam assured. “She’s survived, what, nine of these assholes? Being by Gales side is honestly probably the safest place to be.”

Tara let out a huff at that. Gale had survived many attacks, had been stabbed plenty of times herself, she was also an investigative reporter. Basically, besides Sidney Prescott, there was no one better prepared to deal with Ghostface. Hell, the only gift Gale every gave you ended up being a gun, Tara didn’t even want to know what Gale kept for herself back at her place.

“I just…” Tara sighed. “I don’t like this. We’re out in the open,” Tara looked around the park. It was broad daylight, there were people all around them. Not that any of that ever-stopped Ghostface before, this new Ghostface chased them down and didn’t even hesitate to shoot up a bodega filled with people.

“I just need the call to last fifteen seconds,” Kirby said through the earpiece. “Just keep your eyes peeled.”

“We’re ready,” Sam said.

Tara could feel Sam’s concerned gaze on her. “It’s a good plan,” Sam assured. “We’ll be fine.” Sam rested a hand on Tara’s shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. Tara smiled up at her sister, despite their issues and despite what Sam might believe she was actually pretty good at comforting her.

“It feels like we’re missing something.” Tara looked back, there were people jogging, couples going for a walk, people playing catch, families having a picnic. Everything was completely normal; it was insane to think all these people were going about their normal lives while they were stuck trying to trap a psychotic killer who wanted them dead for some messed up reason.

Tara pulled out her phone, she opened her recent messages with you for comfort. You sent a simple good luck text instantly followed by an I love you just as Tara and Sam had gotten out of the van to start their walk around the park. Tara had instantly sent an I love you back.

She had been away from you plenty of times, she went to school, you went to work, she even went to parties without you, but she hadn’t been away from you since the attacks started. Last year every time the two of you were separated one of you, mostly you, got hurt, she wouldn’t be able to handle something happening to you while she was out trying to catch Ghostface.

She tried to just focus on the walk, all they had to do was walk around the park and keep Ghostface talking, which in theory shouldn’t be too hard, Ghostface really loved to talk. As if on cue Sam’s phone rang, Tara felt her entire body tense at the sound. They had left it on ring so they could be ready for when Ghostface called. As soon as Sam pulled the phone out of her pocket Tara looked over her shoulder to see the call said it was coming from Richie.

“You’re going to die you know,” Sam said as she answered the phone.

Tara kept her eyes open, her head constantly moving back and forth, trying to spot anything unusual. When looking for something out of the ordinary though everything seemed out of the ordinary. There were dozens of people walking around on their phones, any one of them could be Ghostface, or more likely none of them were and Ghostface was off somewhere they couldn’t even see.

“No, you’re going to die Samantha,” Ghostface’s voice came through the phone. Tara tried to ignore the chill that ran down her spine, as hard as she tried to ignore it, she would never be able to get that damn voice out of her head. “Choking on your own blood while I hack up your sister.”

Tara slowed her pace and looked at Sam, it wasn’t the first time a Ghostface threatened either of them, but it never made it easy to hear. “Unless we find you first,” Sam said.

“For a mastermind you’re not very bright,” Ghostface sighed, almost like he was disappointed in them. “Waiting for me to call, desperately hoping I’m nearby so the police can grab me.” Tara’s looked all around, there was no way for Ghostface to know their exact plan unless he was right there, watching them. “But I’m not nearby, I’m a step ahead. I’ll be seeing you, Samantha.”

Sam slowly came to a stop, her brow furrowed as she looked around. Tara mimicked the look, there was some threatening but that wasn’t the typical Ghostface call, they were missing something.

“Oh, Tara,” Ghostface added before hanging up. Tara’s eyes shot to Sam’s, somehow Ghostface knew that not only was Tara right there but that she could also hear him. “I do hope you said your goodbyes.” Tara furrowed her brow as she looked down at the phone. “Because I sure do intend on making them suffer.” The call ended with Ghostface’s sinister chuckle.

“Wh-what does that mean?” Tara asked, searching her sister for answers.

“Did you get it?” Sam asked, completely ignoring Tara’s question.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Yep, coming through right now,” Kirby answered Sam, everyone still seeming to ignore Tara’s worry. “He’s on the upper west side.” Tara could hear the confusion in her voice, that was nowhere near where they currently were. “He’s in an apartment.”

Tara’s eyes widened. “On West 96th?” Tara asked.

“How did you know that?”

Tara didn’t bother answering Kirby’s question, she was already pulling out her phone. She tapped your name and brought the phone to her ear, speed walking her way out of the park. She was aware of Sam following behind her, but she wasn’t about to wait up. “Pick up, pick up,” she mumbled to herself. “Pick up the fucking phone,” she gritted her teeth.

“Hey,” you answered, the sound of your voice instantly making Tara relax but she didn’t slow down. “What happened?”

“Ghostface is there!”

“Wait, what? What are you talking about? What…” Your words trailed off, Tara looked around frantically, she needed to find a way to get to you.

“Y/N?” she asked. “Y/N?” she looked down to see the call had been disconnected. “Fuck!” she quickly tapped your name again; she was going to keep calling until she could see you safe and sound for herself. The call just rang, until she eventually got your voicemail. “Fuck!”

She gripped her hair as her eyes scanned the street, she didn’t even know what she was searching for until her eyes landed on Bailey’s car. She didn’t hesitate to run towards the car, flinging open the driver’s side door. Tara didn’t even have time to enjoy the fact that not only was the car unlocked but the keys were also tucked up in the sun visor. Tara tapped your name again, putting it on speaker but once again it just continued to ring.

“Sam!” Tara called out, interrupting whatever she was saying to Bailey. “Get in!” Sam’s eyes widened but she didn’t hesitate to run over and hop in the car.

Tara rolled up the windows and ignored Bailey’s orders to get out of the car. She clicked the button, locking the doors before he could get to them. She didn’t care if Bailey was a cop, she didn’t care if this was a cop car she was stealing, nothing was going to stop her from getting to you.

“Keep trying,” she said, handing Sam her phone.

Sam did as asked and redialed your number once again. The ringing filled the inside of the car as Tara flipped on the sirens and sped out into traffic. She weaved in and out of the cars as they moved out of her way, pressing her foot harder on the gas as the ringing ended, only for Sam to try calling you again.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrryxcx @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

@riyaexee

[maidragoste]

Someone has to take care of you

Ex Husband!Cregan Stark x Reader

I have to confess I'm nervous because this is my first time writing for Cregan. I actually started writing this in a different way and deleted everything and rewrote it.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please don't forget to like, leave a comment, and reblog because that always motivates me to keep writing 🥰💖💖

If you have any ideas, questions or headcanons you want to share, my inbox is always open 🤗💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

I wish you a good read!

You felt like your head was going to explode and someone ringing your doorbell didn't help.

“Just a minute,” you tried to shout, instantly regretting it because of the pain in your throat. After taking care of whoever was at the door, you would drink some water and try to go back to sleep until it was time to pick up Rickon from kindergarten.

The headache definitely kept you from thinking clearly, because normally you would have looked through the peephole before opening the door.

“Cregan? What are you doing here?” you asked, confused. You were sure your fever hadn't risen enough for you to be hallucinating about your ex husband, so there must be a reason why he was here instead of his home in the North.

“Rickon told me you were sick,” he said, looking at you intently and you regretted not having tried to get ready a little before leaving but you had woken up startled by the sound of the doorbell. You must look like a mess.

With you and Rickon living in King's Landing and Cregan living in the North. Your son couldn't see Cregan all the time, so instead you called each other every day. Rickon probably told him you were sick last night while you were cooking dinner.

“You took a plane and came here just because I'm sick?” you asked, still not believing it.

“Yeah, someone has to take care of you,” he said as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and your silly heart raced. It wasn't fair. How were you supposed to get over him when he did things like this and always looked at you with warm eyes?

“I’m sure I can survive a cold on my own,” you said, but you still moved away from the door to let him in. You only did it because it would be rude of you to refuse his help when he took the time to come all the way here, and because Rickon would be happy to see his father, not because you wanted to spend time with Cregan.

“I know, but you don’t have to do it alone,” he declared, noticing how nervous you were getting because your eyes instantly flicked away from him, so he quickly changed the subject. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No, all I've done since I dropped Rickon off at kindergarten is sleep,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed, but you were so tired you hadn't felt like cooking anything.

“I brought some things to make you soup,” he said, making you notice the grocery bag in his right hand and his duffle bag hanging over his shoulder.

And that was how you ended up sitting watching Cregan cook for you—of course, you had offered to help him but he refused and sent you to rest until the food was ready and this time it was your turn to refuse because you didn’t want to leave him alone—while you two talked like old times. The conversation flowed naturally—the only interruptions were when Cregan reminded you to drink water—you talked about work, Rickon’s latest adventures—how he tried to steal the neighbor’s dog and you died of embarrassment—and you were telling him about how your family and your group of friends were doing.

Of course, for a moment you couldn't help thinking it was just like a normal day as if you two were still married until you remembered that before, you could hug him from behind, and he'd always turn around and kiss you before continuing to cook. But now you didn't have the right to touch or kiss him.

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[blondemrk]

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

( frat boy jake x fem!reader ) ─── genre ⸝⸝ angst / smut ♫

warnings toxic relationship dynamics, dubcon, degradation, dom/sub undertones, choking, breeding kink, strong language, angst & emotional conflict

word count. 8.8k ⋆.˚ library  !

y/n had never intended to end up at another one of these frat parties, but here she was, surrounded by loud music, red solo cups, and people who wouldn’t even remember her name the morning after. it was the kind of place where nothing really mattered, and everything was temporary—just the way she liked it.

she wasn’t looking for anything. she never did at these parties. the chaos, the noise, the reckless abandon—it was just a distraction. so when jake slid into her line of sight half-grinning, half-drunk, with that cocky frat-boy aura, she should have ignored him, should have turned her attention back to her drink. but there was something magnetic about the way he looked at her, like he already knew what she was thinking, what she needed, without even saying a word.

“you look like you’re not having fun,” he said, leaning in close, his voice barely audible over the pounding bass. his smirk was playful, but there was a challenge in his eyes. “what's the point of being here if you’re not enjoying it?”

y/n glanced at him, noting the way his frat letters were emblazoned on his shirt. typical. another one of those guys who thought they could have whatever they wanted. he was attractive, that much was clear, with messy dark hair and a jawline that could cut glass. but she wasn’t here for that.

“i'm fine,” she answered, trying to brush him off, but the way he tilted his head and took a slow sip of his drink told her he wasn’t going to let her off that easily.

“come on, i can see it,” he said, his voice a little more insistent now. “you’ve got that look. like you’re just waiting for someone to drag you into something dangerous.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh, but it wasn’t a nice, polite laugh. it was dark, like she already knew what he was getting at.

“and you think that’s you?” she raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

jake's eyes flickered with something unreadable before that smirk of his deepened. “i think i could make you forget why you’re even trying to resist.”

before she could stop herself, she took a step closer, leaning into his space. “is that a promise?”

it wasn’t supposed to happen. it wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a flirty exchange, a one-time thing. but there was something in the air, something electric that made her forget the rules. and then his lips were on hers, hard and insistent, pulling her into the chaos with him.

later, she’d tell herself it didn’t mean anything. that she could walk away like she always did. but for that moment, in the dim, neon-lit room, it felt like nothing else existed but him and the heat between them. and when the kiss broke, leaving her breathless, she should have walked away.

but jake just gave her that same smirk, the kind that said this was only the beginning.

“see? told you,” he whispered, voice low and teasing.

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from wanting more. she wanted to pull away. she wanted to act like she didn’t care. but jake made it impossible. the way he watched her, like he knew exactly what she was thinking. he was dangerous in the way that made her feel alive, like something was about to snap.

before she could gather her thoughts, jake's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and tugging her toward him. his fingers wrapped around her like a chain, possessive, confident.

“come on,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. “let's get out of here.”

and before she could even protest, he was already pulling her through the crowd, heading for the stairs that led up to his room. she stumbled behind him, heart pounding, stomach twisting with anticipation and a little bit of dread. this was reckless. this was dangerous.

but damn, it felt too good to resist.

by the time they reached his door, he was already kissing her again, pushing her up against the wall, his hands everywhere—too eager, too greedy. it wasn’t supposed to go this far, but there was no turning back now.

y/n sat at the worn-out kitchen table, her friends gathered around, cups of half-finished drinks scattered everywhere. the room was filled with laughter and low conversation, but y/n’s mind kept drifting back to the same thought.

“you hooked up with jake again?” jiyeon asked, raising an eyebrow as she fiddled with the straw in her drink. “seriously? girl, you know that guy doesn’t do relationships.”

y/n rolled her eyes, but the familiar warmth spread through her chest as she remembered the last time jake’s lips had been on hers. he was cocky, confident, and dangerously magnetic, like a drug she couldn’t quit, even when she knew it was a bad idea.

“it’s not a big deal,” y/n replied, a nonchalant shrug slipping past her lips. “it’s just… fun.”

but jiyeon wasn’t having it. “come on, y/n. he’s a frat guy. he only calls when he’s drunk or when it’s late. he doesn’t do anything serious.”

y/n bit her lip, trying to ignore the nagging truth in jiyeon’s words. she had always told herself it was just sex—nothing more, nothing less. but jake's hands, the way he looked at her sometimes like she was the only thing that mattered in that moment… it was starting to mess with her head. she hated that she kept answering his calls, that she kept going back, even when she knew he wasn’t offering anything beyond a quick, meaningless hookup.

“yeah, well…” y/n trailed off, her phone vibrating on the table, the screen lighting up with jake's name. she glanced at it before swiping to ignore the call, but the vibration continued. she had never been able to ignore him for long.

jiyeon raised an eyebrow, leaning forward, her lips curled into a knowing smile. “that’s him again, isn’t it?”

y/n’s fingers hovered over her phone, indecision written all over her face. she could feel the pull of the temptation, his voice in her ear promising everything and nothing at the same time.

“i know it’s stupid,” y/n admitted with a sigh, finally answering the call. “but i just… i can’t help it.”

jake’s voice crackled through the phone almost immediately, too smooth, too easy. “didn’t think you’d answer,” he teased, the hint of a smirk in his tone. “got something else you’re doing?”

y/n leaned back in her chair, rolling her eyes even though she couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at the corner of her lips. “i was just talking to my friends. what’s up?”

“i’m bored,” jake replied casually, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “you free?”

it wasn’t the first time he had called her late at night when the rest of the world was asleep. and it wouldn’t be the last. but y/n knew what this was. she always had. jake wasn’t looking for anything deeper. he didn’t do love.

he didn’t do feelings. and she hated that she still kept falling for the illusion of more.

“i’m not looking for anything serious, y/n,” he added, as if reading her thoughts, his voice lowering just a little. “you know that, right?”

she let out a soft, breathy laugh, trying to pretend it didn’t sting. “yeah, i know,” she said, her voice far too quiet. “i’m not either.”

jake paused for a beat before responding, his tone dropping into something almost too casual, too indifferent. “so, you wanna come over? it’s just gonna be fun. like always.”

she didn’t even hesitate. she told herself it was easier this way. no strings, no complications. just a night that wouldn’t matter in the morning.

“sure,” she said, the words slipping out without thought. “i’ll be there in a few.”

when the call ended, y/n placed the phone face down on the table, her mind racing, her heart hammering in her chest.

jiyeon shook her head, a knowing smile creeping across her face. “you’re really doing this again?”

y/n hesitated, fingers tracing the rim of her glass, but then she shrugged, as if to brush off the weight of the decision. “i know it’s dumb, but it’s just… easy. he makes it easy.”

and deep down, she hated herself for believing she could keep it just that simple.

y/n stood up, her chair scraping against the floor as she grabbed her jacket off the back of the couch. jiyeon’s eyes followed her, skepticism written all over her face, but y/n ignored it. she wasn’t in the mood for another lecture, not tonight. she could already feel the pull of jake’s call, the rush of adrenaline at the thought of being with him again.

as she walked out the door and into the cool night air, she could feel her heart pounding a little faster than usual. it wasn’t the first time she’d answered his call, but tonight felt different. there was something in the air, some tension that she couldn’t shake, and she hated that she couldn’t figure out whether it was a warning or just her own overthinking.

she didn’t have time for overthinking.

by the time she reached his frat house, the music was already blaring from the windows, the typical mix of frat-party chaos blending with drunken laughter and shouting. she took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders as she walked up to the front door. the doorman nodded at her, letting her pass without a second glance. she didn’t need to be part of the crowd to find jake. she knew exactly where he’d be.

she pushed through the heavy door and made her way up the narrow staircase, the sounds of the party growing quieter the higher she went. as she reached the second floor, the air felt warmer, the atmosphere thicker. the moment she stepped into his room, she could feel the shift. he was there, waiting for her, leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed, that signature smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“you came,” jake said, voice smooth, eyes flicking over her with that same hungry gaze. “i was starting to think you wouldn’t.”

y/n didn’t say anything. she didn’t need to. instead, she closed the distance between them, stepping into his space, and for a split second, she allowed herself to feel the electricity crackling between them. his hands immediately reached for her, pulling her into him, his lips finding hers with a sense of urgency. it wasn’t the soft, slow kind of kiss. it was heated, demanding, as if neither of them could quite control the pull they had on each other.

but even in that kiss, there was something detached in the way jake touched her. his hands roamed, but there was no tenderness. no care. just the need to possess, to claim her in the most primal way. and y/n let him. she let him take control, let him kiss her with the kind of desperation that matched her own need.

when he finally pulled back, he stared at her for a beat, the space between them filled with unsaid words. his smirk was still there, but there was something colder behind his eyes.

“like i said,” jake murmured, his voice low, almost teasing. “i don’t do relationships. this is just… for fun.”

y/n swallowed hard, the words stinging more than they should have. she knew what this was, had always known. but hearing him say it again, so casually, made her chest tighten. she hated how easy it was for him to say it, how easily he separated the physical from the emotional.

“yeah,” she replied, forcing a smile, “i know. no strings.”

jake’s eyes darkened, the shift almost imperceptible. he took a step closer, his hands coming to rest on her hips, pulling her body flush against his. “good. because i wouldn’t want you to get confused.”

y/n couldn’t look him in the eye. she didn’t want to admit how badly she wanted hu to believe him, how badly she wanted this to be just a fun thing, even though her heart betrayed her every time she let him in. but there was a part of her that didn’t care. tonight, she didn’t have to think. she didn’t have to feel.

instead, she allowed jake to guide her to his bed, his hands on her body, his lips on her neck, and for a few fleeting moments, she let herself believe that maybe this was all she needed. the physical connection. the feeling of being wanted, even if it was only temporary.

but in the back of her mind, she knew it wasn’t that simple.

jake wasn’t the kind of guy who cared about her beyond the physical. she had made that mistake before. she couldn’t make it again.

still, she didn’t stop him. didn’t stop the rush of heat that flooded her body as he undressed her with practiced ease, as if he’d done this a thousand times before. she knew she was just another girl to him. another moment to pass the time.

and yet, as he kissed her again, deeper this time, she couldn’t help but let go. just for a moment.

just tonight.

jake’s hands were everywhere, pulling at her clothes with an intensity that both excited and unsettled her. every kiss was a promise of something that would never be delivered, and yet y/n couldn’t stop herself from leaning into him, needing the connection, however fleeting it was. he had a way of making her forget, making her feel like this was all that mattered—this moment, this heat, the rush of being wanted, even if it was just temporary.

she didn’t even realize how quickly they ended up on his bed until she felt the cool sheets against her skin. jake was above her, his lips trailing down her neck, his hands moving with a practiced ease, as if he’d done this countless times before. and maybe he had.

there was something disorienting about the way jake made her feel. the way he looked at her with those dark eyes, the way his lips felt against hers, the way his hands made her feel like she was the only thing in the world that mattered for a few brief moments. but it never lasted.

“you’re fucking incredible, you know that?” he muttered against her skin, his voice a rough whisper, laced with that same teasing edge. “no one makes me feel like this.”

y/n didn’t know whether to feel flattered or unsettled. but she kept quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment. if she let herself think too much, she’d ruin everything. it was easier this way—ignoring the small voice in the back of her mind that told her this wasn’t enough, that this wasn’t what she really wanted.

instead, she pulled him closer, her hands trailing down his chest, over the hard lines of muscle she had come to know too well. she didn’t let herself question it. she couldn’t.

but just as she felt herself losing control, the buzzing of her phone cut through the haze of desire. it was a sharp reminder that this wasn’t real, that everything with jake was temporary. she glanced at the screen, heart dropping when she saw her best friend’s name flashing on it.

for a split second, y/n considered ignoring it. she almost did, but something about the timing—something about the call—made her hesitate. she pushed jake off gently, much to his dismay, and grabbed her phone off the nightstand.

“what is it?” she muttered, answering the call with more irritation than she intended.

“y/n? where are you?” jiyeon’s voice came through the phone, laced with concern. “you said you were just going to grab a drink, but we haven’t heard from you since you left. what’s going on?”

y/n’s chest tightened, guilt bubbling up, but she kept her voice steady. “it’s fine. i’m with jake.”

jake was already back at her side, his fingers brushing against her skin again, the heat between them reigniting. but she ignored him, trying to focus on the conversation with jiyeon.

“i know what he’s like, y/n,” jiyeon continued, her voice firm. “you’ve got to stop letting him get to you like this. you’re better than this.”

y/n bit her lip, holding back the urge to snap at her. she knew jiyeon was right, but hearing it from her friend made her feel exposed. like she couldn’t hide behind the mask she’d put on for so long.

“i know. i’m fine,” y/n lied, cutting the conversation short with a quick, “i’ll talk to you later.”

she hung up and turned her attention back to jake, who was already back to kissing her neck, his hands working at the straps of her dress.

“don’t listen to them,” he murmured, his voice low and almost soothing. “this is just us. no one else matters.”

his words were like a balm, but they also stung, because y/n knew they weren’t true. she was lying to herself by pretending that this—whatever this was—could ever be enough. she wasn’t a casual fling. not really. but with jake, she couldn’t help but convince herself that maybe, just for tonight, she could be.

her breath caught in her throat as he kissed her again, more urgently this time, pulling her closer, if that was even possible. she should have stopped him. she should have told him to leave, told him to stop pretending this was something it wasn’t. but all she could think about was the heat, the rush, the way his lips made her feel like she was falling into something dangerous and intoxicating.

“you’re not like the others, you know that?” jake said, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke. “you get me… in a way no one else does.”

for a moment, y/n let herself believe it. let herself believe that maybe there was something more to this. but it was fleeting—because deep down, she knew it was all a game to him. a game that she was already losing.

the room was still heavy with the weight of their shared moments. jake was beside her, his body half-propped against the pillows, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. y/n, on the other hand, was staring at the ceiling too, but her mind was racing. something about tonight felt different. maybe it was the way he had pulled her in and out of his world so effortlessly. or maybe it was the lingering disappointment that had begun to settle in her chest.

she turned her head, watching him. his calm demeanor, the way he had acted like nothing had changed, irritated her more than it should’ve. she had been fine with this, with the simple agreement, the unspoken rules of their arrangement. but now… now, it didn’t feel so simple anymore.

“jake…” she started, her voice tentative, as if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to have this conversation, but couldn’t keep it in any longer.

jake didn’t look at her, still too laid-back, almost as if everything between them had no consequence. “hmm?”

y/n sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “is this really all we are? just this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but it was sharp with the undercurrent of frustration.

jake didn’t respond immediately, his eyes flicking over to her, and for a split second, there was a flicker of something in his gaze—something she couldn’t quite place. he didn’t look surprised, just… calm. too calm.

“yeah. that’s all it is,” he replied, voice flat and unbothered. “what did you expect? something more?”

y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. she hated that she had to ask, but she couldn’t help herself. she didn’t want to be just another hookup, but with jake, that was all she seemed to be.

“i don’t know,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly. “maybe i expected you to—” she stopped herself, realizing how stupid it sounded. “forget it. i guess i was wrong.”

jake turned his head slowly, narrowing his eyes as if he were trying to read her. “you were wrong about what?”

“about you,” y/n snapped, her emotions rising. “i thought—maybe i don’t know what i thought, but i thought this could be more than just… this.”

jake’s expression darkened slightly. he pushed himself up, his posture shifting into something more defensive. “more?” his voice was laced with a mixture of confusion and irritation. “what do you mean, more? you knew what this was from the start. hell, we both knew what this was.”

y/n stood up suddenly, the blanket slipping off her shoulders, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “it’s not just that!” she shot back, her voice cracking slightly. “you think i don’t know that you don’t do relationships, but you also make me feel like i’m something special when we’re together. like i matter, and then you act like nothing happened. and i’m not okay with that anymore.”

jake ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “i never said you were special, y/n.” his voice dropped, becoming colder. “you’re not the only one i sleep with. so, don’t act like you’re the exception.”

the words hit her like a slap, and for a second, y/n didn’t know what to say. she opened her mouth, then closed it again, the realization sinking in like a stone in her stomach. this was what she had been denying all along. she had been just another girl, another body to pass the time with.

“you don’t get it,” she muttered, shaking her head, her voice barely a whisper. “you can’t keep doing this and expect me to be okay with it. i don’t want to be just a… convenience when it suits you.”

jake’s eyes flashed with something—anger, maybe—but his expression remained unreadable. “i never promised you anything more than what we agreed on,” he said, his voice now harsh. “i’m not the one who’s confused here.”

y/n felt the anger flare in her chest, hot and sharp. “you’re right,” she spat, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of hurt and fury. “i’m not the one confused. you are, if you think i’m going to keep letting you use me like this. i deserve better than this bullshit.”

she turned, heading toward the door, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might break through her chest. but before she could leave, jake’s voice stopped her.

“don’t walk out, y/n,” he said, the command in his voice like a slap. “we’re not done here.”

y/n paused, her hand resting on the doorknob, but she didn’t turn around. she couldn’t look at him anymore—not with the way his words made her feel small, made her feel like nothing more than another one of his fleeting distractions.

“yeah, we are,” she said, her voice trembling now with a mixture of hurt and anger. “we’re done. don’t call me again.”

and with that, she left the room, the door slamming behind her with a resounding finality.

outside in the hallway, her chest tightened as the tears she had been holding back finally started to fall. she hated herself for caring. she hated that she let herself believe there was something more. but most of all, she hated that jake was the one who had made her feel like this. like she wasn’t worth more than the briefest touch and the most fleeting of moments.

it had been a few days since their last confrontation, and y/n had tried her best to push the entire thing from her mind. she kept busy with school, hanging out with her friends, doing anything to distract herself. but no matter what she did, she couldn’t escape the nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

it didn’t help that jake kept calling her—his name flashing on her screen every few hours, his voice just as smooth and disarming as it always was. she had ignored his messages at first, but then, like some twisted pull, she found herself answering.

this time, however, it wasn’t going to be the same.

y/n had made up her mind.

“jake, we need to talk,” she said as soon as she picked up the phone, her voice firm.

there was a pause on the other end, followed by his usual cocky drawl. “talk about what, baby? what’s going on?”

her stomach tightened at the sound of the word “baby,” but she pressed on, not giving in. “you’ve been calling me nonstop, and i can’t do this anymore. i can’t just—” she cut herself off, frustration bubbling up again. “you can’t keep acting like nothing happened. you can’t keep doing this to me.”

jake’s laugh was low and taunting. “doing what, y/n? what’s so bad about having some fun? we agreed on this, remember? you knew what you were getting into.”

“that’s not the point!” y/n nearly shouted, her grip on the phone tightening. “you can’t just act like it’s no big deal. you don’t get to treat me like i’m just another girl you can play with when it’s convenient for you. i’m tired of it.”

jake’s voice shifted, annoyance slipping in. “are you really doing this right now? i told you from the start i don’t do relationships. i don’t want anything serious, so why the hell are you acting like i owe you something?”

y/n felt the sting of his words, but she couldn’t let him win. “it’s not about a relationship, jake. it’s about respect. and you’ve shown me none. you call me, you text me, you act like you want something more, and then the minute things get real, you shut me out. i’m not some backup option you can just fall back on when you feel bored.”

“i’m not ‘shutting you out,’” jake snapped back. “i just don’t want this drama. i told you exactly what i was offering—nothing more, nothing less. and if that’s not good enough for you, then maybe you should’ve thought about that before getting involved with me.”

y/n could feel the heat in her chest, her heart pounding. she had tried so hard to hold back the emotions, to convince herself that this wasn’t hurting her, but it was. every word he said stung more than the last. she had let herself believe in something that wasn’t real, and now she was paying the price.

“you don’t get it, do you?” she bit out, her voice shaking with frustration. “you think i’m fine with just… this. you think i’m fine with being your little distraction. but i’m not, jake. i deserve more than that, and i’m not going to keep pretending i’m okay with being nothing to you.”

there was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and for a split second, y/n thought he might actually understand. that maybe he’d realize how selfish he had been, how hurtful his actions had been.

but then jake’s voice returned, flat and cold. “you’re overreacting, y/n. you knew what this was. i told you it wasn’t going to be anything serious. you knew the rules, and if you couldn’t handle that, then that’s on you, not me.”

his words hit her like a punch to the gut. she swallowed hard, trying to push past the tears that were threatening to spill.

“i can’t do this anymore,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“fine,” jake said, the indifference in his tone making it clear that he couldn’t care less. “then don’t. but don’t come crying to me when you realize you can’t do any better. im the only one really deserves you y/n. you are gonna come crawling back when you realize no one can fuck you like i can."

the line went dead, and y/n stood there, staring at the phone in her hand, feeling the weight of his words press down on her chest. she had let herself get caught up in him, in the fantasy of something more, and now it was clear that she had been fooling herself.

she was nothing more than a distraction to him, just another girl in a long list of meaningless flings. and no matter how much it hurt, she knew she had to walk away for good.

y/n was barely aware of the music thumping through the walls as she entered the frat house, her friends dragging her in with excited chatter and a few too many drinks. she was supposed to have fun, supposed to forget about everything, but her mind kept drifting back to the argument she’d had with jake. she had decided, after their phone call, that she was done. no more. he didn’t deserve her time, her energy, her feelings.

still, she couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of nerves as she stepped into the crowded, dimly lit house. the familiar scent of cheap beer and sweat hit her, and she was instantly reminded of the countless other nights she had spent here, back before everything had become complicated.

“come on, y/n! we’re going to have fun tonight!” mia, one of her best friends, shouted over the loud music, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her toward the kitchen. “let’s get you a drink. you need to loosen up.”

y/n forced a smile, nodding, but her eyes kept scanning the room, not out of habit, but in search of someone she wished she could forget.

it didn’t take long for her to spot him.

jake was standing near the corner, laughing with a group of guys, a beer in his hand, looking as effortlessly charming as ever. but it wasn’t the group of guys that caught her attention. it was the girl standing next to him—her long hair falling in perfect waves, a bright smile on her face, eyes fixed on jake as though no one else in the room mattered. the way she touched his arm lightly, the way he leaned in to whisper something in her ear, as if they had all the time in the world.

y/n’s heart twisted painfully in her chest.

she had seen this before—jake with another girl. he did this at every party. it was part of the act. but this time, it felt different. it felt like she was seeing it for the first time, and the realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

they were nothing. she was nothing to him.

“y/n? are you okay?” mia’s voice brought her back to the moment. she looked at her friend, who was standing beside her, a concerned look on her face. “you’re staring at him. do you want to leave?”

y/n didn’t answer immediately. her gaze remained fixed on jake and the girl. the way they seemed so… comfortable together. the way jake laughed, clearly enjoying her attention, while y/n stood there, a spectator to their easy connection. it made her feel small. insignificant. the exact thing she had been trying so hard to avoid.

“no,” she said finally, her voice firm, though her stomach was twisted in knots. “i’m fine. just… just need to grab a drink.”

mia seemed to buy it and waved her off, heading into the crowd with a grin. y/n stood there for a moment longer, watching jake and the girl, feeling like an outsider in her own life.

but the truth was, the more she stood there, the more the anger burned inside her. she was done feeling like a fool. she was done being the girl on the sidelines, waiting for jake to give her some scrap of attention.

taking a deep breath, y/n forced herself to turn away from them. she walked toward the back of the house, as far from jake as she could get, her heart pounding in her chest.

she needed air. she needed to get away from this.

without thinking, y/n turned on her heel, moving quickly through the house, ignoring her friends who called her name. she headed for the back door and stepped outside onto the porch, taking in a breath of cold night air.

but even the fresh air couldn’t clear her head, couldn’t calm the fury inside her. it was like the anger had taken over, and the only thing that could ease it was making jake feel exactly what she was feeling. she didn’t care anymore.

as she stepped down the stairs, her eyes landed on one of jake’s frat brothers—sunghoon, a guy she had seen around a few times. he was standing by the bonfire, talking to some other people, but when he saw y/n approach, he flashed her a grin.

“you okay?” he asked, noticing the tension in her posture.

y/n shrugged, trying to shake off the frustration swirling inside her. “yeah, i’m fine,” she said, a little too quickly.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “you sure about that? you look like you want to punch something.”

y/n’s lips curled into a smirk, the alcohol in her system giving her the confidence she needed. “maybe i do,” she said, stepping closer to him. the heat from the bonfire and his body pressed against her in a way that felt… deliberate. “or maybe i just need to distract myself for a while.”

before sunghoon could respond, she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down to her lips in a searing kiss. her body reacted immediately, heat rushing to her chest as she pressed herself against him. she could feel sunghoon’s hands on her waist, but it didn’t matter. she wasn’t thinking about him. she wasn’t even thinking about anything except the anger coursing through her veins, the desire to make jake feel what she was feeling. she kissed sunghoon harder, with more force, as if she could burn the image of jake with the other girl out of her mind.

but of course, she couldn’t escape it.

out of the corner of her eye, she saw jake standing at the door of the house, staring at the scene unfolding in front of him. his expression was unreadable at first, but then it shifted. his jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. the sight of y/n kissing sunghoon, so casually, so freely, seemed to set him off. she could almost feel the rage radiating from him even though he was still a distance away.

y/n didn’t break the kiss. she didn’t look away from sunghoon. but deep down, she could feel jake’s gaze burning into her, could feel his jealousy bubbling up, and it made her pulse quicken.

finally, sunghoon pulled away, grinning like it was nothing, but y/n wasn’t focused on him anymore. she didn’t care. her eyes locked onto jake, whose rage was now crystal clear. he marched toward her, his steps purposeful and fast. by the time he reached them, y/n had already pulled away from sunghoon, wiping her lips as though she had done nothing wrong.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” jake growled, his voice low and dangerous.

y/n turned to face him, her eyes flashing. “what does it look like, jake? i’m having fun,” she shot back, her words dripping with sarcasm. “seems like you’re not the only one who can have a good time.”

jake’s face twisted in anger, and his hand shot out, grabbing her arm with a force that made her wince. “don’t do that,” he warned, his grip tightening. “don’t use me to get back at me. you think this is some kind of game?”

y/n yanked her arm out of his grasp, her own anger rising. “what, you think i’m supposed to just sit around and wait for you to decide when i’m worth your time?” she spat, stepping back. “you’re the one who doesn’t want anything serious. remember? you don’t do relationships. so don’t get mad when i’m doing exactly what you taught me to do.”

jake stared at her, his chest rising and falling with every sharp breath. “you’re unbelievable,” he muttered, his voice tight with restraint. “you think i care about who you’re kissing?”

y/n crossed her arms over her chest, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “honestly? no, i don't think you care. but i'm not doing this with you anymore, jake. i'm done.”

without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked away, the heat of the bonfire and the tension in the air following her every step. behind her, she could hear jake calling her name, but she didn’t turn around. she didn’t look back.

not this time.

without warning, jake's anger boiled over. his eyes darkened, and before y/n could react, he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her toward the stairs leading up to the frat house.

“you’re not done,” he snapped. “we’re not done.”

y/n stumbled a little as he dragged her inside, not giving her a chance to argue. he took her straight up the stairs, pushing past people in the hallway, barely noticing their curious glances as he guided her to his room.

the door slammed shut behind them, and jake didn’t waste any time. he pushed her up against the door, his body pressed close to hers, the tension between them palpable. his chest heaved with every breath, his lips curling into a dark smile that made y/n’s heart race.

“you think you can just kiss someone else in front of me, huh?” jake growled, his voice low and dangerous.

y/n swallowed hard, her hands resting on his chest as she tried to steady herself. “maybe i can do whatever i want. ever thought about that?” she shot back, her breath hitching as his fingers brushed against her neck.

jake leaned down, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, “you really want to test me tonight, don’t you?”

before she could respond, his lips crashed onto hers, hard and demanding, and y/n felt the heat spread through her body. all the anger, all the frustration, everything melted away in that moment. jake's hands slid down her body, gripping her waist as if to pull her even closer.

she moaned softly against his lips, her hands sliding into his hair as she kissed him back with equal intensity. she could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingers, the tension between them palpable as their kiss grew more heated.

without breaking the kiss, jake's hands worked quickly, tugging at the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head, tossing it aside. y/n responded in kind, her hands slipping beneath his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin as her fingers traced the lines of his muscles.

“you’re driving me crazy,” jake muttered, his lips leaving hers to trail down her neck, causing her to shudder. “but you’ve got to understand, this isn’t a game anymore.”

y/n breathed heavily, her mind spinning. she wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer, but when jake's hands slid down her back, pulling her hips toward his, it became clear that there was no going back. not now. not tonight.

jake pulls y/n onto his lap on his desk chair, his lips never leaving hers as he wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly against his chest. she melts into his embrace, her own arms wrapping around his neck as she kisses him back with equal fervor, the anger and frustration of their earlier arguments forgotten.

"god, i missed you," jake murmurs against her lips, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass. y/n gasps, throwing her head back to give him better access to her neck. he takes advantage, sucking and biting gently.

his hands slide under her shirt, unhooking her bra with expertise. her breasts spill out, making him groan. he pushes her shirt up, capturing one hardening nipple in his mouth. y/n moans, grinding herself on his lap. he hisses, feeling her heat through his sweatpants.

jake lifts her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he stands. carrying her to his bed and tossing her down gently before kneeling between her thighs. he hooks his fingers in her shorts and slowly pulls them down, revealing her lace underwear.

he spreads her thighs wider, his thumb brushing against her core through her underwear. she squirms, lifting her hips. he smirks, knowing she's always ready for him. he pulls her underwear off, throwing it somewhere in his room before diving in, spreading her lower lips with his thumbs.

"jake please" y/n gasps, her voice trembling as he expertly teases her clit. at the call of his name he looks up at her, his eyes dark with desire as he continues to lick and suck her. "please jake, please touch me!" 

jake leans in, his tongue flicking out to tease her sensitive clit. y/n cries out, gripping his hair as he begins licking and sucking her clit. her thighs quaking around his ears as he relentlessly pleasures her. he knows every spot that drives her wild.

"you're gonna make me... jake, stop," y/n moans, trying to close her shaking legs as her back arches off the bed. 

jake pauses, smirking as he watches y/n squirm and pant. "stop? but this is my apology to you my sweet girl" he teases, blowing gently on her sensitive clit. she shivers, her body still trembling from his relentless assault. "you gonna cum on my tongue baby?"

h/n shakes her head desperately, biting her lip. "n-no, jake, i can't... i told you- we’re done!" her protests morph into a moan as he seals his lips around her clit once again, sucking hard while plunging two fingers inside her tight heat.

"mmph, you're soaking wet, baby. your pussy's squeezing my fingers like it's mad at me too,"jake mumbles against her core, curling his fingers inside her. y/n's hips buck up, her anger slowly melting away into pure pleasure. "f-fuck jake..."

"that's right, say my name while i'm making you feel good," he taunts, adding a third finger and increasing his pace. his free hand comes up to tease her breasts, pinching her hardened nipples. "are you still mad, baby? or are you just enjoying getting fucked senseless?"

y/n throws her head back, hair cascading down the bed. "y-you're such a fucking asshole!" she cries out, her body convulsing around his fingers.

jake chuckles darkly, continuing his assault on her pussy, his fingers pumping relentlessly, coaxing an orgasm from her body. "sounds like your pussy isn't mad anymore though," he teases, curling his fingers to stroke her g-spot while sucking her clit harder.

y/n's body tenses, her back arching off the bed as she lets out a loud moan. "jake, fuck! i hate you!" she spits out, even as her hips grind against his face. jake just smirks, knowing that her words are fueled more by pleasure than actual anger.

"yeah baby, hate me while you cum all over my face," jake growls, his fingers and tongue pushing her over the edge. y/n's vision blurs as she cums harder than she ever has before, her entire body shaking with release. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

jake leans back, his fingers slowly slipping out of her still contracting pussy. he licks his fingers clean, grinning mischievously. "you want more, baby? you want my cock inside you?" he asks, already knowing the answer. y/n bites her lip, hesitating, mulling the idea over in her head.

jake chuckles arrogantly, stroking his hardening cock through his sweatpants. "say it, y/n. beg for my cock like the desperate little slut you are. tell me how badly you need it stretching that tight little cunt." he smirks, enjoying her squirming discomfort.

"asshole," y/n huffs, lifting her chin defiantly. "i don't need your dick." jake throws his head back laughing. "damn right, baby. you don't need my huge cock?"

"then why are you dripping all over my bed, hmm?" he reaches down, running a finger along her slit, showing her the shine of her wetness. "you gonna lie there and pretend you don't want this dick? while we both know you're fucking dying for it?"

y/n's face turns red, her legs clenching together. "fine you win, i want your cock okay!" she snaps, her anger quickly morphing into need. "i need it, jake. please... please fuck me, please jake"

jake's smirk widens, victorious. "there she is. there's my fucking needy slut." he pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his erect dick. 

"please, jake... please fuck me i cant wait missed this so bad" y/n begs, her voice shaking with desire. jake grips her hips hard, positioning himself at her entrance. "beg for it like you mean it, y/n," he demands, teasing her with the head of his dick.

"i'm begging you, jake please fuck me! i need this- need you so bad, jake please" y/n says, her face flushed and desperate. "i need it so bad! please, just please want you to fuck me dumb jake" jake grins, satisfied with her begging. "good girl,"

he slams his length inside her in one precisely thrust, making her scream out in pain and pleasure. "oh-oh my god, fuck" y/n cries out, feeling like she's being split in two. jake starts pounding into her mercilessly.

"is this what you wanted, you little slut?" jake growls, his hips slapping against hers. "my big cock stretching your tight pussy? making you scream like a bitch in heat?" y/n can only moan in response, her body rocking back to meet each of his powerful thrusts.

“look at you taking this dick like such a good little whore,"jake rasps, maintaining a punishing pace. his hand snakes around to play with her clit while his cock hits her deepest spots. "you still pissed at me? or are you just grateful i'm fucking you so good?"

"mm... i... i hate you," y/n pants, her body pushing back against his. "you're an asshole..." her words trail off as he rubs her clit faster, making her eyes roll back. "but god... you fuck me so good..."

he grips her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as he pounds into her relentlessly. the sound of their bodies colliding fills the room, along with y/n's loud moans and jake's guttural grunts. sweat beads on their skin as they move in perfect sync.

jake's pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more animalistic as he feels his orgasm approaching. he leans over y/n, his chest pressing against her back, and grasps her breast roughly. "fuck, i'm getting close," he pants into her ear, his voice strained with effort.

"cum inside me," y/n whimpers, throwing her ass back against him harder. "fill me up jake please-" jake groans loudly at her words, his pace turning almost violent. "slut. where did you learn to talk so nasty?" he growls.

jake's hand leaves her hip to wrap around her throat, squeezing slightly as he continues to hammer into her. "you want my kid, huh? want my cock to knock you up?"

"fuck." jake shouts as he finally reaches his climax, his hot seed spilling deep inside y/n. he continues to thrust through his orgasm, ensuring every last drop is planted in her. 

as jake finishes, he collapses onto y/n's back, his cock still buried deep inside her. both are left panting heavily, slick with sweat. after a moment, he slowly pulls out, watching with satisfaction as some of his sperm leaks out of her stretched hole.

the room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional shift of their bodies on the bed. the tension between them had started to settle, but there was still an electric charge in the air, something thick and unspoken.

y/n lays next to jake, both of them completely exposed, skin to skin under the dim light. she could feel the heat radiating from his body, the warmth of his chest rising and falling with each breath. her fingers traced the lines of his tattoos absently, her thoughts swirling.

it had been a few moments since they’d last spoken, and the silence stretched betw een them like a thin thread, fragile yet heavy. jake shifted, his fingers brushing against her arm, drawing her attention to him.

“y/n…” his voice was quieter than usual, more serious than she had heard in a while. it made her glance up at him. he wasn’t looking at her—his gaze was focused on the ceiling, his jaw tense.

“yeah?” she replied softly, unsure of where this was going.

“i… i’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and hesitant. she could hear the sincerity in it, and it caught her off guard. “for how i’ve been. for what i said. for acting like i didn’t care.”

y/n didn’t answer immediately, taking in the way his hand now rested beside hers, fingertips barely brushing against her skin. she wasn’t sure how to respond, but she could feel her chest tightening, the walls around her heart suddenly feeling a little less solid.

jake turned to face her, his expression still a little guarded but softer now, his eyes searching hers. “i didn’t mean to hurt you, y/n. i know i’ve been an asshole. i’ve been pushing you away and… i guess i was just scared.” he paused, biting his lip as if trying to figure out how to explain himself.

y/n raised an eyebrow. “scared? of what?”

jake sighed, running a hand through his hair before lowering it to rest on the bed beside her. “scared of getting close,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve never been good at this—relationships, feelings, whatever you want to call it. i was just trying to keep things casual because i didn’t know how to handle it any other way. but i messed up. i hurt you, and i hate myself for that.”

her heart clenched in her chest, and for a moment, she couldn’t find the right words. she had been so used to the carefree, detached jake, the one who wouldn’t let anyone in. but now, hearing him speak so honestly, she didn’t know how to process it. she just stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

“i don’t want to hurt you,” jake added, his voice thick with emotion. “i care about you, y/n. more than i thought i would. i just… i don’t know how to do this. how to be better. but i’ll try. i swear, i’ll try.”

y/n’s breath hitched in her throat, her emotions caught between relief and confusion. she could see the raw vulnerability in his eyes, the sincerity in his apology. it was different from the usual bravado he wore like armor. this was jake, exposed and uncertain.

she took a slow breath and shifted closer to him, her body pressing against his once more. it felt right, even though it was complicated. she didn’t know if she was ready to forgive him entirely, or if things would ever truly change, but for the moment, she didn’t care. she reached out and placed a hand gently on his chest, her thumb grazing over the tattoo there.

“i don’t know, jake,” she murmured softly, her voice almost a whisper as she stared into his eyes. “but i guess… we can figure it out together.”

jake’s face softened, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. he took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together, as if making some unspoken promise. he pulled her a little closer, their bodies fitting against each other as if they were made to be this way.

for the first time in a long while, the tension between them felt like something real—something they could both hold onto.

“i’ll make it up to you,” jake said, his voice hushed, but full of promise. “i will.”

y/n didn’t say anything in return. instead, she closed her eyes and let the warmth of his body wash over her, the gentle beat of his heart against her ear. they lay there together, skin to skin, both of them silently acknowledging the weight of the moment.

and for once, neither of them felt the need to run.

⌕ elis note ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ∘ hope you guys like this.. still getting used to writing smut... enha taglist open also you can find the link in my nav pinned on my profile !! thank you gen for proof reading

@hyukabean @chenlezip @mrkified @undomielsql

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey gator, soooo about the marks do they ever get paranoid that reader is cheating? Or like when they're pregnant do they ever think reader is going to leave them because of all the bad they've done (looks at Mohawk mark and evil empor mark). Does reader ever forget to call them back and suddenly a flood of upset marks are at thier workplace?

It honestly makes sense that the Marks, a large majority anyways, would start getting paranoid. With everything they have all been through, and all the bad things they've done? Why wouldn't they imagine that the reader, someone they see as the better person, find someone better?  

This is also why a good chunk of the vincibles would be so worked up about the reader having a good relationship with OG Mark. Cuz like, this is a version of them that isn't messed up in the head, hasn't killed millions/billions/trillions. Doesn't matter that OG Mark is dating Eve. They are sure he will realize how worthy the reader is and will try to steal him away. 

I don't think they worry too much about the reader cheating, more so because there are so many of them, and they are always keeping the reader busy or keeping an eye on him. Cuz like, no way there isn't at least one Mark stalking him even when he's working. 

Pregnancy hormones might make their feelings start acting out even more though, like the rational ways they dealt with these fears and insecurities before, would start crumbling.  

Marks like Maskless Mark and Omni-Mark might be able to verbalize these feelings to the reader, where others just start getting twitchy and paranoid. 

In the end it has to come down to communication, cuz they start getting really worked up, even when they have no proof or reason to think that reader will leave them, or that reader might be thinking of cheating. It does take a while to get them to not snap and snarl at OG Mark though. 

[lieslab]

What if the world comes to an end before I make it?

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: When you start to complain about life, your boyfriend states the obvious.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I hate capitalism. I'm in my thought daughter era. I ate an entire grapefruit for the first time in my entire life and it was life changing, I think.

_ _ _

“What is it this time?” 

“It’s impressive that you know something’s on my mind, even when I don’t say it out loud.” 

“Of course, I know. I love you and I’m dating you, aren’t I? That means figuring out how you tick. What makes the blood quicken through your heart and what makes you cry. That means getting to know you entirely, even the parts you wish I didn’t notice.” 

Beside you, Minho laid beneath the blankets with an under eye mask beneath his eyes. A habit that he picked up from you, lately . Right before bed, the two of you laid beneath the blankets and grew sleepy together. 

Side-by-side, an emptiness sat between you, but it wasn’t bad. You both liked your space. Love nestled quietly between the two of you, like a child slipping into the bed between their parents to stop the nightmares. The most beautiful thing about Minho, love didn’t have to be verbal. It sat behind actions and painted itself in the reminder notes he stashed around the house for you to find. 

‘Don’t forget, I made your lunch and put it in the fridge.’ 

‘You were having a bad day, so your favorite ice cream is on the top shelf of the freezer.’

‘You’ve been raving about the latest book coming out, don’t pre-order it, I already did it for you. It’ll be here, just in time for your birthday. Special edition, signed by the author, don’t forget to say thank you when you see me again.’

‘Soonie, Doongie, and Dori want you to know that they’re hoping you have a good day.’ 

Beneath the cotton sheet, your bare legs took comfort in the coolness. Damp from the shower, getting right into bed, nothing could beat the feeling of being squeaking clean. A hydrating lotion soaked your skin and smelled like cocoa butter. 

“There’s a quote by Sylvia Plath that goes ‘I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want.’ There’s more to the quote, but that’s the gist of it.” 

Minho hummed, not opening up his eyes. “Sounds like a very true quote.” 

“It drives me mad. I see all these lives, all these people, all these things and I want them all. I want to take care of nature’s wild animals. I want to work in a greenhouse and spend my days watering plants. I want to spend time behind a counter, making customized coffees for people, and befriending the regulars.” 

“Isn’t it just unfair?” You continued. “You finish school when you’re roughly an adult and you’re told to pick something, without really knowing about everything out there. Pick something. Get a higher education and specialize in something. Do that one thing for the rest of your life and then die, basically.” 

“But that’s such a waste!” Your eyes narrowed at the ceiling. The rage simmered in your blood again. “And why have we normalized that? What if I want to be a plumber and learn that trade? What if I want to get my hands dirty with cars? Learn about every engine, know the difference between oils, become so familiar with the frames that I can identify a car by looking at it.” 

“And Sylvia Plath has another quote where she discusses the analogy of life to fig trees. Each idea, each career, each potential is a fig and she just keeps waiting and waiting, trying to figure out which one to pick. In the process, the figs rot away and hit the ground. The ideas rot and grow further and further away. Living so many lives, taking so many routes, it’s just not possible because society says that it’s not okay.” 

“Sounds like you’re very passionate about Sylvia Plath.” 

“I’m annoyed because she’s right, you know. We’re told to pick one thing in our life that defines us and do it forever. Keep holding onto that burden, no matter if it burns out and bores you, because generations before agreed that it was a good idea.” 

Minho’s eyes opened and he blinked a few times. Soft yellow light filled the room and highlighted the two of you. You scowled, glaring at the ceiling, as if it hurt your feelings, instead of your own brain. 

“Well, maybe you’re right. Maybe you can’t live out every dream, but nobody is stopping you from trying to do it all. The only one standing before you and stopping you from making drastic life choices and decisions is you.” 

“Huh?” Your head jerked over and one of the golden collagen eye masks slipped onto the sheet. “What are you talking about? What do you mean?” 

“I mean I’m a k-pop idol, but I love boxing. I like watching anime. I like learning Japanese. Just because my life is a steady stream of work, I find things that I’m passionate about and pursue them because I deserve that. Nobody can tell me otherwise.” 

“Yeah and I don’t even know how you find the time for all that.” 

“It’s called self-discipline, less screen time, and productive days. You might not be able to conquer every single dream, but nobody is stopping you from picking up hobbies and trying.” 

You jerked yourself upright in the bed. Side eyeing him, you huffed. Your lips stuck out in a pout and he chuckled. “Be mad all you want, but you know I’m right.” 

“I know, but I worry about burning myself out.” 

“Do you or are you comfortable with where you are now? When you grow comfortable in different spaces, you learn to stay in them. Sometimes it’s because you don’t want to deal with anxiety or upsetting people. Maybe you’re afraid of failing and maybe you're afraid of success because once you succeed, you have to figure out what comes next.” 

“When the fuck did you get a degree in smartassery?” 

“When I took my time watching animations with characters full of charisma and quick wit. You should try it sometime and get off your social media. Are you really going to spend years of your life scrolling instead of trying to conquer your dreams?” 

Your mouth opened and then shut. He waited for your response, but it never came. You didn’t have one and not only that, you felt stunned. Everything he said made sense. It was all so obvious and yet, you’d never put anything into actions and words. 

Every desire, just scattered thoughts in your head. You never considered actually acting upon anything. Just like the fig tree, your dreams and hopes for different lives, they were withering and rotting. The worms of doubt nibbled inside the figs and consumed them over a span of months that would eventually, roll into years. 

“It really is that simple, isn’t it?” 

“Basically. Take it slow. Start with one or two things. The internet is at your fingertips, use it. Watch YouTube videos. Ask someone to teach you how to fix up old cars. There are hundreds of people that carry knowledge in the world, just ask them.” 

“You want a cafe job? Grab a part time job, even if it’s just a day or two per week. Want to take care of animals? Volunteer at the animal shelter. You can do so many things, you just have to find the courage and the grit to do them.” 

You shoved the blankets off you, tossing them all at Minho. “Have I ever mentioned that you’re a genius? A real life genius. I love you so much, please never die.” 

He raised an eyebrow. You ripped off the eye masks, walked over, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. He attempted to grab your wrist, but you moved. “Where are you going?” 

“I’ve gotta go make a list of all the things I want to do! I want to live! To feel! To experience! I wanna do it all!” 

“It’s nearly midnight!” He called after you. 

“I gotta go plan before the rest of my figs rot!” 

The last glimpse he caught of you, you were practically giddy with delight, excitedly rushing out of the room; probably going to plan world domination. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght @chrizrizz

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

Ko-fi

[ryuucam]

FAMILY MATTERS

⋆｡𖦹°‧ despite being just a year younger than him, kuroo has always been overprotective: that’s what good childhood friends do, after all. so when you confide in him your crush on his best friend, bokuto, he’ll match you two up, on just one condition. he’ll be the one to fuck you first.

contains dark content, fauxcest (kuroo and reader have a sibling complex, no one’s related but the lines are very blurry), yan!kuroo, jock!bokuto, love triangles (no action between kuroo and bokuto), size kink, threesome, lots of pet names, spit, nii-chan x imouto, virgin!reader, dumbification, daddy (used once), spitroasting, blowjob, fingering, aftercare!, implied cuckolding/netorare (?), open ending, 4k + words.

notes me next OMG WHO SAID THAT!!!! ending sucks sorry guys </3 but im a sucker for kuroo nii

your parents split up before you were born, leaving you in a family friend’s care. a sweet, middle aged man, mr. yoshimura, who had no kids and no immediate family. he knew the lack of a parent - let alone two - is not something that’s easy on children, so he moved to tokyo, in a neighborhood full of kids and families, in hopes of raising you surrounded by peers and whatnot. despite this, 5 year old you didn’t know any better: all alone, in a place you don’t know, and too timid to become friends with any of the kids in the local playground. but, when little you was just about to sob and run back to your house, a boy, one year older at best, stopped you.

“why’re you alone?” you’re quiet. then he flashes you a smile (and even if he’s missing his front tooth, it’s sweet), so you gather your courage and speak up. “i just moved here.” the boy laughs. “i’ll be your friend then!”

and that’s what kuroo is - a friend. a great one, of course, but even since then he’s set his mind of taking care of you. you grew up like siblings: both pained at the loss of your mother, both around the same age, and luckily enough, your house was just in front of his. so it’s only natural that you guys are close - sure, kenma hangs out with you guys when he manages to leave the house - but the bond you have is special. it’s unbreakable. you had countless sleepovers, hangouts, even cuddles when you first got your period and were in too much pain to do anything. the line was always a bit blurry, but you never paid any mind to it. kuroo is like your brother, and you both joke about it sometimes - calling you imouto and him onii chan, you viewed your relationship as entirely platonic, familial at best.

on the other hand, kuroo became smitten with you from your first meeting, only discovering his feelings when you were thirteen and puberty hit: everything became a bit too awkward, and your regular sleepovers gradually stopped. at sixteen, kuroo had already two small relationships under his belt, all while chastising you when you spent a bit too much time with any guy friend - he’s not good for you, you deserve better… are all excuses kuroo came up with to prevent you from getting your heart broken. at nineteen, kuroo’s in the third year of high school, and is about to graduate. you’ve grown now: you’re taller, prettier, and your body is… different, to say the least. testuro feels awful about his thoughts, but he’d be lying if he didn’t say he woke up with countless hard ons for years on end, involuntarily upsetting his girlfriends who were just placeholders compared to you. but, kuroo keeps scolding you when you forget your lunch or your scarf: “niichan’s not gonna be around forever, kay? gotta learn to take care of yourself, hm?” and you just nod, letting him do his thing because he’s naturally flirty. right?

however, kuroo is demoted to second place when you meet him: 6’2, awfully muscular and sickeningly sweet, one too many “that score was for ya, pretty!”, and a bit dumb but with a big heart (and big bulge in his shorts) - bokuto kotaro. he doesn’t go to your school, unfortunately, but it’s close enough for him to be at your school’s gymnasium regularly for countless volleyball matches with kuroo’s team. he’s sweet, sure, a bit dense, but very nice nonetheless. when he sees you, he always runs up to you, big smile and all, asking about your day, sometimes sneaking in some flirting - “good day, right y/nnie? hehe, couldn’t wait to see ya today. ya look as pretty as i thought you’d be!”. you always blush at the implications, and gradually you fond yourself smiling a bit more and blushing a bit harder. you twirl your hair when he talks to you, bat your eyelashes, not too much, but enough to make bokuto’s head spin and cock leak.

kuroo notices - of course he does. he’s always looking at you, naturally worried about what you’re up to, who’re you talking to. his heart beats a little bit faster, pumping envy and jealousy right into his veins, only fueling the deeply rooted love he has for you. he’s fuming, and it translates into the field perfectly: his spikes are a bit too harsh, a bit less precise, ultimately ending up hitting his friends in the head (and he goes back to normal soon after, apologizing and saying he wasn’t as concentrated). today’s match ends in a tie, fortunately for you, who are rooting for both teams - your niichan’s and bokuto’s. as you busy yourself talking to kenma after the match (or, blabbering about how cool bokuto looked, how strong he is, how big his muscles are, all the while kenma does nothing but sigh), the team captains are both changing in the locker room.

and of course, they’re nineteen and immature, so locker room talk is inevitable - but today, there’s just the two of them, the rest of the teams had left early. bokuto’s the one who speaks up first, while he runs a towel over his drenched hair. “so, kuroo… y’r sis was all dolled up today, don’tcha think?” kuroo doesn’t correct his friend. “guess so. that’s just her school uniform, though. ya think that’s dolled up?” “c’mon, the skirt was lots shorter! she’s got great legs too.” bokuto giggles, the thought of your exposed legs going straight to the bulge in his shorts. kuroo doesn’t laugh: well, of course you looked stunning, but bokuto’s just so crude about it, he thinks. “yeah, she’s hot.” kuroo mutters, earning a whistle from bokuto. “damn, thought ya’d kill me for sayin’ that over your imouto. well, whatever, she’s an eye candy, and a real smart girl too. she’s definitely my type, bro!”. kuroo fakes a laugh. “yeah, maybe she’s into you too. maybe she likes himbos.” “huh? ya think?” kuroo sighs.

when they’re done, they find you all bundled up next to the gym entrance, dozing off. your knees are pushed up to your chest, and your legs rest around your legs. your lips are slowly parted and the soft wind is blowing your hair just right. kuroo’s in awe - you’ve always been pretty, to say the least, but some days he swears you were made for him to see, to worship. bokuto chuckles, as if hearing his best friend’s inner dialogue, and his gaze follows the curves and shadows of your body, finding itself stuck on your glossy lips. bokuto hesitates a second too long, and kuroo’s the first to reach out to you, kneeling next to where you’re sitting. his hand caresses your hair, gently, with the experience of someone who’s been taking care of you for 14 years now. his face hovers near yours, hand sneaking up to your shoulder. “princess, wake up. lemme take you home.”, he breathes out, voice soft and meant only for you to hear. you begin to stir, subconsciously moving your face dangerously close to his. “tetsu?” his breath hitches. “yeah, pretty? ya tired?” “mhm.” kuroo chuckles, and takes you into his arms, slowly petting you awake. your body is pressed snugly against his, smaller and softer, as if it was made exactly for him to hold. he’s quiet when he feels his cock straining against his pants, too preoccupied with lifting you up. once you’re standing up, you rub your eyes, trying to make the sleepiness go away - and bokuto feels like his heart’s melting. “y’re pretty cute, ain’tcha?” he smiles. you’re suddenly reminded of his presence, the interaction you just with nii- no, with kuroo, suddenly makes you feel even more embarrassed.

kuroo breaks the uncomfortable silence. “we’ve got to go home.” you want to protest, but maybe he’s right. he wants to take care of you. so you nod, and wave goodbye to bokuto, before walking over to your childhood friend. as you two walk to your house, you make small talk - the chemistry test you had today, which he tutored you for, his university plans, the match he’s had today. “can i tell you something?” you ask, soft smile on your face. “hm? yeah. what’s up, cutie?” you giggle at the nickname - it’s sweet, childish, and he’s always called you that. “i think ‘m getting a crush on bokuto.”

and unexpectedly, he laughs. “really? ya like kotaro? dunno if he’s good for you, princess.” you nod - the weird feeling you had about the tension between the two captains is now gone - and are quick to defend him. “huh? why not? he’s so tall ‘n he’s so sweet!” you’re now outside your front door. kuroo pats your head, messing up your hair, earning a huff of frustration from you. “whatever ya want, cutie.” and he leans closer to you. it’s not unusual: he’s always been touchy. his lips hover near yours, and you feel like time stops. then, he presses a peck near the corner of your mouth. your face’s beet red - he’s never kissed you like this before - and you stammer out some words. “h-huh? wh-what’s that for, tetsu?” he chuckles, before turning around, about to leave. “can’t let him take you away from me. had you first.”

you spend the night tossing and turning in your bed, unable to catch any sleep. you sigh, and grab your phone, scrolling through your texts and notifications - one of which catches your attention: a dm on instagram. you open it, and you’re met by bokuto’s profile. you blush, feet kicking under the covers, and hurry to reply.

bokuto.taro1: hey hey pretty girl, just wanted to say you looked very pretty today. let me take ya out, yeah? let me show ya how serious i am about you.

your legs squeeze together - even his texting is attractive.

y/nniee: hi!! thank uu :) id love that actually

bokuto.taro1: ofc you do cutie. gotta ask permission to your nii-chan first, tho.

your breath hitches. right, kuroo. if he gave you a kiss just because you mentioned liking bokuto, you don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out he wants to take you out. your train of thought is interrupted by another ping from your phone.

bokuto.taro1: but seriously, baby, you’re so pretty. been thinking about you for a while now.. your skirts are gonna kill me one day.

bokuto.taro1: it’s late. better go to sleep, hm? before your nii nii finds out you’ve been texting me all night.

the date with bokuto went well. a movie theater date, watching the new horror movie you’ve seen all over your social media. he held your hand, bought you popcorn, and left you at your doorstep at 11 pm sharp. when he was about to leave, you spoke up. “w-wait.” “hm? what is it?” he turns around, curious. you walk over to him, and you cup his cheek. you pull him closer, and closer, until you’re both so close you’re breathing the same air. “want me to kiss ya?” you nod. he gets impossibly closer to you, and presses his lips on your jawline. “mhm, ya sure? tetsu’s gonna kill me.” his lips keep moving, now nibbling on your ear. you whimper. “please, kotaro? jus’ one kiss?” he giggles against your ear lobe, and brings his face back to yours, softly locking you in a soft, chaste kiss. your lips are soft, glossy, untouched, but it’s not enough for either of you.

“can’t do anythin’ more, princess. you don’t know what i’d do to ya right now, all pretty and shit. but your nii chan wants to be careful, you got it? ‘m gonna take great care of you if you let us.”

“n-nii chan?” “yeah, baby.” bokuto presses his lower body against yours, painfully hard cock poking your tummy. you whimper: it’s even bigger than what you imagined. bokuto can only laugh - you’re so tiny compared to him. “you feel it? that’s how hard- fuck - you make me. every day. have me tuggin’ at my cock for hours, can’t go down if i’m thinking about you, baby girl. you want it?” you nod, eyes glossy and lips parted, desperate to feel his bulge closer. “then ya’ve got to let your nii nii watch when i fuck you, alright? he wants to see his imouto get taken care of.” your heart stops - what? everything about this makes your poor head spin: what does kuroo have to do with this? well, you know he’s overprotective, but never this much. and there’s a little part of you that’s screaming at the creepiness of this situation. your niichan? your… brother? he wants to fuck you? well, in his defense, you’re not actual siblings, but you’ve always been so close - your stomach does a flip at the realization that each time you’d called him niichan, he had probably gotten off on it. you’re brought back to reality when bokuto presses another peck on your forehead, sweet, infantilizing, further dumbing you down to a poor, helpless little girl. “baby - whaddaya think? hm? we’re gonna take care of ya.” and you’re so ashamed of yourself when you nod in agreement.

so here you are - at home, sprawled on your soft mattress, as you wait for kuroo to come over. when bokuto called him, you’re sure you’ve heard a breathy laugh - dark, sinister, but you’re not too sure: even if this is a bit creepy, kuroo’s a good guy, right? your niichan who won’t let anything bad happen to you. bokuto senses your worries, hushing and shushing you by straddling your body. his lips press against yours, but it’s messier, wetter, than last time: they move with experience on top of yours, and as soon as you part your mouth slightly, he stuffs it with his fat tongue, exploring your hole. the room’s filled with your “ah- nghn… oh! a-ah…”s, and bokuto’s “quiet, girlie, lemme kiss ya a bit more…” as he sucks on your tongue. the kiss feels like it’s out of a porn comic - the ones you found on twitter, the ones you spent endless nights reading while rubbing desperately your clit. your tongues dance together, messy and desperately dirty, but it has you going dumb in seconds.

then, you hear a whistle coming out of your door. kuroo’s standing there, arms crossed as he watches bokuto’s much bigger body engulf yours. he has a big grin on his face - probably because of the sweet sounds you’re letting out, or because you look so cute with a much bigger man kissing you stupid. “bo, c’mon, let y/nnie breathe. right, cutie? he kissed you stupid already?” he breathes, getting closer to your bed. you’re tucked into the mattress, on top of your pink, girly sheets, hiding your trembling body behind your plushies (most of which were a gift from kuroo). kuroo sits on your bed, hand resting on your thigh, while bokuto leans back to take in your disheveled look - messy hair, smudged makeup, swollen lips. “tetsu…” you whimper, seeking comfort in someone you known so well. “see, bo? told you she needs to be taken care of.” kuroo turns to bokuto, his cheshire grin never faltering. bokuto laughs, then points at you with his head, bringing his friend’s attention back to you. “oh, princess”, kuroo coos, “poor thing. want me to take care of you?” you nod. the ache in your now drenched panties is unbearable, making your head spin and eyes tear up: you need it to stop, to go away - your hypersensitivity is so cute. so endearing, innocent.

just like the sweet, sugary kisses kuroo presses on your cheeks as bokuto begins to massage your shoulders. “hey, cutie”, he brings your attention back to him. “lemme undress you, hm? don’t hafta do anythin’, sweet girl, i’ll take care of ya.” “hm, ngh… y-yes plea-ah-se!” and he gets to work. he leaves you in your underwear - a baby pink cotton set, with bows and white details. so cute. bokuto can’t enjoy the show as much as he’d like to, though, because kuroo’s hand flows to one of your breasts, cupping the soft flesh he’s dreamed of for ages. you stifle your moans: the feeling is so foreign and weird, but it’s so good. “angel,” tetsuro speaks against your ear, voice sending electricity throughout your body, “always dreamt about this. about your pretty body.” his thumb moves to your covered nipple, already hard and pressed snugly against the fabric of your bra. “n-nii chan…” kuroo feels his cock strain - oh, you pervert. you nasty, dirty girl, calling him big bro when he’s rubbing your tits sore. but, he can’t scare you away. he wants to hear you keep calling him that, to show bokuto your bond is stronger than any other you’ll ever have.

so kuroo’s quiet. “what is it, imouto?”

the name makes your neglected cunny twitch. but everything is feels so good, four hands touching and pawing at you, two hot men on your bed kissing you stupid. so you keep going - puffing up your lips. “wanna kiss. please.” your gaze flickers between bokuto and kuroo, but eventually settling on the latter. kotaro can wait, right? but oh, kissing your tetsu feels so wrong. unfortunately for you, he doesn’t hesitate, locking your lips together. it’s messy, raw, and so unbearably wrong, but it makes your pussy pulse a bit more, and it almost calms down the anxiety pooling into your stomach. it’s your tetsu, your niichan - yes, it’s wrong, but he knows you best, no? that’s why he’s here.

bokuto’s jealous - why is he here if you’re gonna kiss your brother all night? so he acts. he, not without a struggle, unhooks your bra, letting your pretty tits fall exposed. you whimper, but it goes unnoticed as bokuto latches his mouth on your other nipple, sucking harshly the warm flesh. your head spins, and you feel like fainting when kuroo mimics his friend. they lick, bite, mark your tits, leaving them all swollen and bruised. your mouth feels empty, and you tentatively reach over to the two men. “ca-ahn, can you… nghm, guys k-kiss me more? ‘m achin’ do-down there…” oh. they were both so intent on competing with each other, they stopped coddling their sweet girl. kuroo goes back to kissing you, pulling you into his lap as you face bokuto. the former’s cock is pressed against the swell of your ass, and the latter is kissing your body, going lower and lower until he presses a final, wet kiss on your panty clad pussy.

“bo, take em off. she soiled her panties anyway.” kuroo orders, voice slightly muffled because he just won’t stop kissing you. bokuto does just that - he pecks your cunny two more times, then rolls down your drenched underwear, leaving your pretty pussy bare. the two men feel their cocks pulsing: the sight of your cunt being almost too much for them to handle. it’s puffy, wet, but twitching and they can see your little clit peeking from your squishy folds. tetsuro squeezes your tits, and speaks up. “princess - y’want a cock in there? want us to fuck you?” how can he be so crude about this? but your pretty cunny is screaming at you to stuff her, to make her feel so full, so you whimper out an answer. “mh-mhm tetsu… pl-please…mhgn.. o-one of you…” bokuto smiles and pets your head, his much bigger hand messing up your hair. “lemme do it - please? lemme ruin your pretty cunny, baby, fuck, she looks so pretty. ‘m gonna stuff her nice ‘n well, princess, jus’ how you wanna.” kuroo let’s out a dry laugh. “what’s gotten you so worked up, bo? her pussy that pretty?” kuroo jolts you into his lap, positioning your jerking cunt right on top of his clothed, painfully hard cock, earning a loud moan from you. he softens when you whimper and moan - you’re too fucked out, too dumb already, so you need to be fucked by someone’s who’s careful, caring. “y/nnie.”

his voice is grounding, strict, something you’ve heard all your life. your nii-chan, your tetsuro. he is a comforting presence throughout all of this - so you nod. “please-ahse, nii-channgh… oh!” “please what, princess? want me to be the one to fuck your angelcunt first?” “mhm! please!” bokuto sighs - should’ve known the pretty girl he’s liked for a few months now had a brother complex. kuroo turns you around, so that you’re facing him. he undoes his zipper, letting his cock spring free from the tightness of his boxers. it’s thick, with a stupidly red, fat tip that’s leaking so much precum. your mouth waters at the sight - your nii chan’s dick rests above your cunny, and it looks so big. then, you see another pair of hands sneak from behind, squeezing your waist, your hips, and resting near your crotch. bokuto’s hard, muscular chest is pressed against your back, head resting on your shoulder, and his thumb inches closer and closer to your clit. “kuroo, y’re gonna stick your dick in her without rubbin’ her clit? just for a bit, i-i’ll do that.” kuroo’s taken aback - he was so focused on making you his, on marking you before anyone else, that he forgot about easing your nerves. you throw your head back as bokuto’s fingers slip inside your hole, thumb drawing hearts on your clit, while his other hand pinches and rubs your nipple. “ta-ah, taro! nghn… ah- uh - ‘m g-gonna…!” your cry out.

his attack on your cunt is rough, hypocritically so when he just chastised kuroo for not taking care of you. “ya can do it, puppy, sing more for me mkay? wanna hear ya scream for me while i cuddle yer cunt. she’s so fuckin’ tight, holy shit. she’s loud too, hear that, y/nnie?”the squelching noises of your sopping pussy are so embarrassing, and the way he talks about it is so dirty - but it makes your slimy walls flutter around his fingers even tighter. “da-hmph!” “what’s that, bunny? what’re ya trying to call me, huh?” “da-ah… daddy…”

oh, fuck. bokuto presses his thumb harder on your clit, making you scream as you cum for the first time that night. kuroo’s cock twitches as he seethes - so jealous of the sweet moment between you and his friend. he can’t let you think about bokuto, no, he needs to bring you back to him - so he nudges his tip against your hole, swatting away the hands of the other man, uncaring of your pleas and cries. his tip’s big - and kuroo knows that making you ride him will hurt. but all the better for him, he’s gonna shape your insides to fit his cock only.

“angel.” you sniffle. “angel, ‘m gonna put it in, kay? focus on me.” “nii-chan…” “yeah, fuck. just like that, pretty, keep callin’ me - wanna hear you. ‘m gonna teach you how to sit on cock, yeah?” you nod. kuroo kisses you as he slips it in, popping your cherry. it’s painful, yes, but it’s so big, you’re so full - you’re already going dumb on your nii chan’s cock. kuroo positions your limp body so that you’re fully impaled by his length, fully sitting on it. “you’ve gotta bounce on it, bunny, make your nii chan cum.” you cry, fat tears streaming down your cheeks, but you do that regardless - because you want your kuroo nii to feel good. when he cums, he does it in you, cock kissing your cervix stupid, letting his fluids stain your cunny. you cream around him soon after, crying out for your nii chan.

then, kuroo reluctantly slips out of you. there’s a small pause, then you’re stuffed again. only this time, it’s bokuto’s cock that’s seeking your tight heat. he slipped into you from behind, and he presses you down on the bed - face down, ass up. “didn’t wanna be mean, baby. jus’ needed your pussy. so, so bad - forgive me, yeah?” “‘s fi-fine, taro, feels so - fuck! so g-good!” your voice is muffled, face smothered in blankets and plushies. as bokuto slams his cock in and out of you, you’re hugging one of the teddy bears - this one specifically was a gift from kuroo for your finals day last year. it makes you all warm and fuzzy, subconsciously clenching your cunt even tighter around his friend’s cock. kuroo notices - and he thinks you’re so cute, all needy for him even when you have another dick in you.

so he takes his cock in his hand again, and turns your head around: his tip kisses your lips, prodding at your mouth. “y/nnie… wanna suck here for a bit? make you feel all better.” and you hazily do so. as bokuto plows into you, you take kuroo’s dick in your mouth, slowly working your way down his shaft. you kiss his tip, lick it, suck on it to get used to the taste; it’s comforting, grounding, making you don’t feel as anxious as you’d be while having your first time. kotaro caresses your head as you start bobbing it up and down tetsuro’s length. “good fuckin’ girl - so sweet for us. such an angel, right kuroo?” “mh? yeah. makes me wanna do this again- fuck, y/nnie, i’m going to cum… don’t have to swallow, kay? you’re doing so good for nii chan.” tears pool in your eyes, both from the reassurance and the knot in your stomach snapping - you cum around kotaro’s cock, just as kuroo’s member slips out of your mouth and his cum splatters on your giggling tits and lips. bokuto cums soon later, dick going flaccid inside of your cunt.

you collapse on the bed, exhausted.

you’re awoken by the feeling of soft fabric on your skin - someone’s cleaning up your body. you pry one eye open, and both boys are still here. before you can say anything, bokuto speaks. “you were so good for us, sweetheart. thank you for letting us fuck you, yeah?” you blush - suddenly hyper aware of the situation you were just in. you look over at kuroo, who’s the one cleaning up your used pussy. “tetsu?” “yeah, baby? he’s right - such an angel.”

once they’re done cleaning you up, you squirm back into your blankets, tired. kuroo’s hand caresses your head, and bokuto’s holding your hand. you feel so safe, taken care of. “can you guys sleep here tonight?”

bokuto knows deep down that he can’t compete with kuroo. he loves you, he really does, but there’s just something so fucked up about your bond - and he feels bad for you. how you’re so dependent on kuroo for everything. how you’re such a fragile, pathetic girl enabled by the one you trust the most. you’re beyond fixing - he noticed how you clenched when you called him your big bro, how you went for his cock with no hesitation, how you let him fuck you after you went on a date with another guy. maybe it’s not that bad. you’re not actually related, right? it’s just a pet name, maybe that’s what childhood friends do. sure, that must be it.

kuroo notices. of course he does. and he’s got everything where he wants it to be. you sleeping on his chest (well, your hand is holding kotaro’s, but it could he worse), and a tissue with your mixed fluids thrown in the bin right next to the bed as proof of your actions just a few hours ago. but, he can’t lie: he feels somewhat guilty, maybe subconsciously so, for taking advantage of you. he knows his friend’s awake, and you’re in such a deep sleep, you probably won’t stir even if they chat for a bit.

“bo?” “yeah?” “i’m not gonna lie to you. i really don’t want you guys to go out together.” “yeah, figured as much - bokuto laughs - but you’re still my best friend and i still like her. even if you’re a creep for calling her sis when you’re fucking her, man.” there’s no malice in the air - just plain boy rivalry. kuroo replies after a few seconds. “she still lost her virginity to her nii chan. guess i’m not the only weirdo here. but still, dude, ‘m not gonna let her go so easily.”

bokuto sighs - he knows you’ll always run back to your big bro. that doesn’t stop him from trying. when you’ll wake up, he’ll still try his best to score another date with you. and kuroo will be there to remind you that he’s the only good guy for you - until you’ll be under him again while you cry for your nii chan to fuck you harder. you’re not sane in the head, but kuroo doesn’t mind. he’s here to make you feel better.

©️ ryuucam 2025.

[imaginespazzi]

Thinking thoughts about Love Island!Pazzi and how Paige would be an OG and already coupled up (with someone who's super sweet and pretty and Paige is trying really hard to like her but something's just missing) when Azzi would enter as the second bombshell. And Paige doesn't really believe in love at first sight but holy fucking shit does she feel sparks from the first minute Azzi -in a purple bikini so really Paige never even really stood a chance- saunters into the villa.

Paige is the first person Azzi sees -and holy fucking shit did her heart just skip a beat- but she also sees the girl next to Paige; already knows that they're coupled up and allegedly going strong (it's been like a week but that's practically a year in LI terms iykyk) so she figures rather then set herself up for heartbreak immediately, she'll test the waters, hoping that a good chat with the other attractive men and women in the villa will make her forget about just how quickly she'd been entranced by those pretty blue eyes.

But alas, although there are some perfectly nice people (and some clearly not so perfect ones) in the villa, Azzi just can't seem to feel a connection with any of them and Paige is trying very hard not to show how badly she's hoping -despite having another girl next to her- that Azzi will eventually pull her for a chat (she's also very much not jealous over a girl she hasn't even properly spoken to, of course not!)

It isn't until the very end that Azzi does finally give into what she's wanted to since she'd walked into the villa, and pulls Paige aside to the little balcony upstairs so they can chat. And fuck, if talking to each other isn't the most natural, most easiest, most comfortable thing in the world and they talk and talk and talk about everything and nothing, their bodies getting closer and closer together until their knees bump together and they both flush under the soft glow of the moonlight. It just feels right.

And from there on, it's almost inevitable that the two of them are headed on a collision course, even if Paige does go through a brief 2-day stint of letting the guilt she feels towards the girl she's already paired up with act as a barrier to what she feels for Azzi. It takes watching Azzi flirt with a man of all things -which the brunette really only did out of spite- for Paige to pull her head out of her ass and tell Azzi that she wants them to try. Naturally, the two of them sleep outside on the daybeds together that night and the day after, at the recoupling, Azzi has the sweetest speech for when she picks Paige (after almost giving her a heart attack by making it sound like she wasn't gonna choose her of course)

After that it's really just a couple of weeks of bliss until a game exposes something about their pasts, leading to a mini argument that they don't get to resolve because of course: IT'S TIME FOR CASA AMORE.

And I just picture them stressed out of their minds because they miss each other so fucking much and they're both upset because they hadn't been able to make up after their fight and for as much as they trust each other, it's only been a couple of weeks and hell if they aren't both scared that the other will walk away and find someone better.

But really neither of them needed to worry because for as much as there's this one annoying as fuck girl (her name rhymes with Kae) trying to make a move on Paige, the blonde refuses to even kiss her amidst a challenge because she'd rather lose it than kiss someone else not named Azzi. And even though the producers try really hard to make it seem like Azzi might have something with one of those girls (whose name might rhyme with Mate) by sending Paige a postcard of the two of them giggling together, all Azzi has done is rant to said girl about how much she misses Paige and how wonderful Paige is.

The two of them are buzzing the day of the post-Casa recoupling ceremony, antsy as can be in anticipation of seeing each other. And the producers milk the hell out of it making sure their reunion is the last one so that they can be the big dramatic finale. They definitely don't disappoint.

It's Paige who stayed at the villa, so she gets to give the speech and really it was a lovely speech she'd written but she's so nervous and the tears are definitely threatening to spill, so she ends up cutting it in half and speeding through it because god she just wants to see her girl. Azzi doesn't even make it to the firepit, hell she barely even makes it past the entrance until Paige is already running towards her and they crash into a pile of limbs in the middle, trying to intertwine themselves around each other, babbling incoherent i miss you's into each other's skin as they hold each other as tightly as possible.

That night, they tell each other -under their breaths as softly as they can so it can be a moment for them and not for the cameras- i love you for the first time, and they mean it forever.

Suffice to say, they definitely win the show (and they get an MTV special for their wedding as well tee hee)

[dearru]

spotlight | ft. h.iwaizumi

-> pairing: iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader | sfw | cw: cursing, oikawa is here too, not proofread | wc: 948 | mlist 

-> synopsis: iwa has always avoided the spotlight, but your attention feels different.

The spotlight has never been a friend to Iwaizumi. 

Even during his six-year stint as the ace of two powerhouse schools, he’d always felt it was cumbersome to be treated as someone of eminence. He quickly learned that he preferred to be a quiet constant rather than the center of attention. Serving as a pillar of strength for his teammates to lean on, even if it went unnoticed, was better than acting as a “star player.” 

It wasn’t until adulthood that he realized this was probably one of the reasons why he and Oikawa were such good friends. 

Notoriety comes naturally to some people, and unlike himself, Oikawa is one of them. He wore the crown bestowed upon people of extraordinary talent with such grace that he made it easy to live in his shadow. And with the fickle spotlight always on the setter, Iwaizumi could do what he did best– act as a foundation where others could build their victories. 

He spent years ingraining the art being overlooked into his very being. Even now, long after his volleyball career had ended, it still felt like second nature, especially when his friend came to visit. 

So when you– easily one of the most attractive people he’s ever seen– approach the table he and his old teammate sit at for lunch, he doesn’t even entertain the possibility that you’re here for him. 

“Um, hi.” You stutter. 

The soles of your shoes dig into the slatted floors, and he can’t help but find your sheepishness rather endearing. Your voice, soft and hesitant, complements the restaurant’s lovely atmosphere. It leaves him almost breathless. 

You have a universal allure about you that makes Iwaizumi wonder if even Oikawa, with his questionable taste, would have the sense to recognize your beauty. 

“Hey,” Oikawa says, flashing his classic smile at you. Iwaizumi gives you a simple nod in return, watching as a situation he’s been in many times unfolds in front of him. 

He knows precisely how this will play out. 

You’ll ask for Oikawa’s information, and he’ll happily give it to you. The two of you will then exchange a few messages before he eventually charms you into a dinner that Iwaizumi will inevitably hear all about.

Maybe you’ll finally be the one to capture Oikawa’s heart. You’re cute enough to. 

“Could I have your number?” You mumble, jerking your phone towards them. The gesture is much too bashful for someone as stunning as you. With how you look, he thinks having some degree of assuredness would suit you. You could have anyone you want. 

A brief still falls over the moment, and Iwaizumi almost laughs at how masterful Oikawa is at building just enough tension. He can control a room so well. 

Oikawa grins, reaching for your phone like a prize to be had. 

Everything is going exactly as Iwaizumi expected it to. 

Until you frown. 

“Uh– sorry.” You stammer, biting the inside of your cheek before shifting your gaze to Iwaizumi. Your phone moves just out of Oikawa’s grasp and centers itself in front of him instead. 

“I was actually asking for yours.” 

Iwaizumi feels the world shift off its axis. 

It’s not the first time he’s been asked for his number. He does pretty well for himself when Oikawa’s not around, but regardless, he finds himself nearly forgetting how to speak.

His face feels flush from the intensity of Oikawa’s stare. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches his friend’s open-mouthed gape and comically red ears. If he were any less shocked, he’d laugh hysterically at Oikawa’s mortified disposition.

“Yeah, of course you can have it.”

Iwaizumi concludes he must have suffered from a mini-episode of amnesia when he looks down and realizes that, at some point during this exchange, he’s reached for your phone. Still startled by what’s transpired, he traces his fingers against the smooth edge of your case to ground him.

He’s about to type his number in when he realizes he should probably say something else to you. 

“My name’s Iwaizumi. What’s yours?” 

You giggle and introduce yourself. 

Fuck. Even your name is pretty. 

A warm feeling blooms in his chest, and he looks up to see your gleeful expression. Your shoulders are much more relaxed than they were before, and your shoes are no longer digging into the floor. 

You seem relieved. It’s confusing. 

Did you really think he would say no to someone like you?

“It was nice to meet you.” He smiles once he’s entered his information, trying to be as suave as possible while ignoring the rapid beat of his heart. He stretches his arm out to give your phone back, and a jolt of electricity shoots between his fingertips when your hand brushes against his. 

“It was nice to meet you, too.” You echo with a new confidence. “I’ll text you.” 

“I’ll count on it.” 

You spin on your heels and walk away. When you’re out of earshot, he jumps from the sensation of a hand slapping his back. 

“I’ll count on it.” Oikawa repeats mockingly, lips pressed into a thin line of amusement. “I didn’t know you were so smooth, Iwa.” 

He rolls his eyes, but despite himself, he feels heat creep to the back of his neck.

“Shut up, Oikawa.” 

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’d be off my game too if I were you and someone asked for your number over mine.” 

Oikawa’s maniacal laughter sobers Iwaizumi and fills him with enough gall to punch him in the gut. Though, the sounds of his friend’s complaints fade into the background as an unexpected sense of satisfaction courses through his veins. 

Maybe, every once in a while, Iwaizumi wouldn’t mind stealing the spotlight for a moment.

–a/n: i blame @cherrysurf for this iwa brainrot.

[emichanted]

➷ Stalker Rin (MDNI)

!!REQUESTED!!

Contains: Smut (MDNI), ooc Rin, & obviously stalker stuff!!

Word Count: 1.7k (NOT PROOF READ)

Stalker!Rin wants to know you're safe. So it's not wrong for him to secretly follow you home, right?

Stalker!Rin wants to know what you do at every moment during the day. He can't help but check all your social medias to see who you're with or what you're doing. He's not trying to be creepy... He's just interested in your life.

Stalker!Rin hates when he sees you with someone else... It's him you should be with.

You wonder what happens to all the guys the next day, while Stalker!Rin just smiles to himself as he watches you from afar.

Stalker!Rin just looooves you so much. He's obsessed. He can't help but peek through your window at night, watching you slowly take off your top, completely unaware...

Stalker!Rin wants you bad. He "borrows" your things. Borrows... But you'll never get it back. Small things like your hair tie, pencil, hair clips... He wants to feel you're with him at all times.

Stalker!Rin loves secretly watching you, taking in everything about you, small things other people wouldn't notice, from the way you twirl your hair around your finger when you're shy, to the way you always brush your hair with 100 strokes on each side.

Stalker!Rin loves the fact that you're completely unaware of the fact he's with you 24/7, always watching you. It kind of makes him excited.

Stalker!Rin knows everything about you. All your little secrets, the names of and information on all your friends and family, your daily schedule, your hobbies, your fears, your dreams... He wants to know everything he can.

Stalker!Rin wishes he could make his presence known, but he's scared and honestly, he gets excited over the fact you don't know he's watching you... It's just such a... Euphoric feeling.

Stalker!Rin appears at your door one night. You let him in, knowing him just as your classmate, unaware of the fact he's been watching you this whole time.

Stalker!Rin ends up fucking your brains out that night. Making sure to leave his mark so you don't forget. Oh, he sure won't forget the feeling of your warmth around him...

Stalker!Rin can't help himself and "borrows" your panties before he leaves your house after. Just a little souvenir...

Stalker!Rin is already planning out how to slowly make you obsessed with him so that he can have you all to himself...

A/N: it was my first time writing a stalker!character so Im sorry if it's not as good but I hope it's alright 😭🙏

Masterlist

[otomeorangejuice]

The last post I reblogged sent me on a spiral so here's how all the LADS LIs are nerds.

Zayne: He's a surgeon, that went through med school. Next.

Jk. Definitely the kinda guy to tell you random facts about the body, forgetting how gross some of them are and getting really embarrassed when his medical nerd talk puts you off your dinner. Loves explaining things whether it's his job or weird things about the human body. Tbh if he wasn't a doctor he'd probs be a teacher. Also ik it's his job but the lab coat SCREAMS nerd.

Caleb: military pilot with gravity powers, NERD. His fave subjects in school were probably physics and maths. Can name pretty much any aircraft at a glance and will yap to you about physics theories and the inner working of his favourite planes if you let him.

Everybody except those closest to him thinks he's just smart and cool but MC, Zayne and Gideon know that he's a chronic nerd that shows his affection by yapping at you about how cool planes are.

Rafayel: Art nerd. Now I don't think he'd care much about human art history overall, although I do feel he'd have a soft spot for the likes of Impressionism. But he's a nerd about the craft, the materials. He canonically creates his own pigments from seashells and such (which as a fellow art nerd I find so cool) but I personally believe he's probably experimented with trying to get natural pigments from all sorts of things.

This man is a colour theory girlie and he will ramble on to anyone about specific pigments and how he's aiming to achieve them. Thomas can pretty much rattle off the way he works by memory and sometimes finds himself looking at different things and wondering if that will give Rafayel the shade he's looking for. He low-key hates it but he tells himself it's for the good of the exhibitions and the art scene at the end of the day.

Sylus: Now I know we all joke that he's an old man but personally I think he's both a music and tech nerd. Like every person who knows about technology only trusts it so much (Catch him hating how much AI junk is infecting our lives ATM) plus Mephisto exists, like I think his tech parts are Sylus' doing. He's also a nerd about weapons and mostly collects them for fun only having a few that he actually uses for combat while overall preferring to use his fists and his evol.

Now he can't play music to save his life but he has the best audio systems money can buy, he has several record players, some vintage, some modern and he collects all sorts of vintage music paraphernalia. (Catch him having one of Eddie Van Halen's guitars on display). He canonically likes the Beatles (there's a pile of records as a decoration for his room on one of them is labeled Beatles) so I think he'd be a classic rock fan (Fits his vibe) but he still enjoys classical and opera

Xavier: Now Xavier is the only one who I don't think is a nerd. He's worse. This man is a gamer. From old school Nintendo to the newest VR releases he's played a good mix of everything. Personally I feel like he leans towards cozy games, has the cutest animal crossing island and the most impressive farm on stardew valley. Has definitely made himself and MC in the Sims (and then made Charlie and removed the ladder while he was in the pool). But he's also a god at the likes of the Bloodborne series. If he's feeling particularly jealous or pent up a few rounds of bashing bosses on Elden Ring will make him feel better. Also don't try playing a fighting game with him, he'll wreck you at Street Fighter.

And there we are the nerd (and gamer) squad.

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 GOOD LUCK, BABE! jang wonyoung x reader

♪ ❝you can say it's just the way you are make a new excuse, another stupid reason❞ ⭢ moonstruck (read this first)

↳ warnings paranoia!yn,, yn from this fic, angst, fluff

if you asked both yn and wonyoung how well they remember the day they met, yn would probably say it’s a bit fuzzy, like a memory softened by time. wonyoung, though, she’d say she remembers it like it was just yesterday, like she remembers every day with yn.

funny how the one who never forgets is the reason they became something worth forgetting.

the girl next door, that’s what yn was. not to wonyoung, but to chaewon.

to chaewon, yn was the annoying next door neighbor. her exact words when she introduced yn to the rest of iz*one were, “this is my annoying next door neighbor, yn. she’s a trainee and producer at sm, along with these two other guys.”

wonyoung found it so impressive that someone as young as her was a producer and a trainee, it made her want to learn how it happened, she also couldn’t help but notice how pretty the girl was.

it was the way yn carried herself, the way she spoke, the way she looked effortless yet striking. and just like that, wonyoung had to know more.

yn tilted her head, watching the girl across from her talk animatedly with someone she knew as yujin. chaewon had banished her to sit with the two youngest members while the rest of the girls made food in the kitchen.

wonyoung. of course, yn knew of her, how could she not? and after their awkward introduction earlier, she was sure wonyoung knew of her too.

"I’m wonyoung," the center said with a bright smile. yn tried her best to return it.

"I know," yn said, tilting her head with a teasing grin. "chaewon unnie just said your name."

yn let out a small laugh, tilting her head to look at chaewon who raised a brow at them.

“so you and I are same age right?” yujin snapped yn out of her daze.

yn nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “yeah, that’s what chaewon unnie said.”

the conversation carried on from there, flowing naturally between her, yujin, and wonyoung. yn was curious about idol life what it was like to debut, to have a fandom, to be recognized everywhere they went. yujin and wonyoung, in turn, were just as curious about her. being a trainee and a producer at sm, especially at such a young age, wasn’t exactly normal.

they asked how she balanced everything, how she handled the pressure, what her days even looked like.

yn, ever so casually, mentioned the boys wonbin and jay and that was when wonyoung’s interest seemed to shift. her questions became more direct, more personal. it wasn’t just about training anymore, she wanted to know about yn. what she liked, what she hated, what kind of music she was into.

there was something different in her tone, the way she leaned in slightly whenever yn spoke, eyes locked onto her like she didn’t want to miss a single word. it got to the point where it felt like it was only the two of them talking, the rest of the world fading into the background.

after that night, yujin was the one who reached out first. she wanted a friend her age, someone outside the idol world but still close enough to understand.

yn had no problem with that, hanging out with yujin was easy, fun, and natural. and just like that they became close, spending time together whenever their schedules allowed.

one afternoon, yujin invited yn over to the dorms. they ended up in yujin’s room, sprawled out on the bed, laughing over the dumbest things, teasing each other like they’d been friends forever. yn had stolen one of yujin’s plushies, holding it hostage while yujin tried (and failed) to take it back.

“give it back!” yujin whined, dramatically collapsing onto the bed.

“this is mine now,” yn said, squeezing the plushie tightly against her chest. “he told me he doesn’t like you anymore.”

yujin gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “betrayed… by my own plushie? how could you?”

yn burst into laughter, tossing the plushie back at her. “fine, fine. take him back,”

before yujin could respond, the door creaked open.

“yujin, our manager wants you for a—” wonyoung’s words cut off as she stepped inside, her eyes landing on the scene in front of her.

yn was lounging on yujin’s bed, her hair slightly messy from rolling around, one hand lazily pushing her bangs out of her face. her oversized deftones graphic tee had ridden up slightly, and she was absentmindedly tugging it higher, cropping it without thinking.

wonyoung stumbled over her words, blinking rapidly. “I—uh—”

yujin frowned. “what’s wrong with you?”

wonyoung quickly shook her head. “nothing, she wants you for a meeting.”

yujin sighed, pushing herself up. “of course she does. can’t let me have a single moment of peace.” she turned to yn, giving her a pointed look. “don’t do anything dumb while I’m gone.”

yn raised her arms in mock defense. “I’m innocent.”

“sure you are.” yujin rolled her eyes before glancing back at wonyoung. “keep her company.”

wonyoung nodded, stepping further inside as yujin left the room. there was a brief moment of silence before yn smirked, tilting her head.

“so,” she drawled, “didn’t expect to see me here?”

wonyoung cleared her throat, crossing her arms. “why would I care if you’re here?”

yn chuckled, shifting so she was sitting up properly. “no reason. you just looked… surprised, that’s all.”

wonyoung scoffed. “you’re imagining things.”

“am I?” yn teased, leaning in slightly. “you’ve been looking at me a lot, y’know.”

wonyoung rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. instead, she sat on yujin’s bed, her knee brushing against yn’s. “so what? maybe you’re just fun to look at.” she didn’t know what she was doing and why she was flirting back, but it felt right, it felt fun.

yn smiled. “oh? does that mean you think I’m cute?”

“you wish,” wonyoung shot back, but there was the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

they continued, playful back and forths, wonyoung pretending not to be affected while yn pushed just enough to keep her on her toes.

by the time yujin came back, wonyoung was slipping her number into yn’s phone, fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary before she stood up.

“text me,” she murmured, before leaving without another word, what am I doing?

and that was the start of their situationship.

they fell into something that wasn’t quite defined, but it didn’t need to be. moments blurred into each other wonyoung showing up at the studio when yn was both training and producing, bringing her food, making sure she didn’t overwork herself.

yn pulling wonyoung aside in empty hallways, pressing quick kisses against her lips before disappearing like nothing had happened.

wonyoung meeting the boys, wonbin and jay they immediately started ruining yn’s reputation, jokingly of course “be careful with her,” jay had joked, “she’s got a habit of breaking hearts.” “shut up!”

late night food runs, their hands brushing as they reached for the same snack, quiet laughter filling the air as they wandered through neon lit streets.

it was fun. it was exciting. but all highs eventually reach an end.

wonyoung started to realize how serious it was getting, how real it felt. and she couldn’t take it. she was supposed to like boys. this was supposed to be just for fun.

when she got a text from yn one night, inviting her over “movie?” she knew she had to end it.

they hung out like always, laughing, teasing, pretending everything was fine. but then, out of nowhere, wonyoung blurted out-

“this can’t happen.”

yn frowned. “huh?”

“us,” wonyoung said, voice unsteady. “we can’t happen. I like boys. I don’t like girls.”

yn let out a short laugh, but there was something nervous in it. “haha, you’re so funny.”

wonyoung shook her head. “I’m not joking.”

yn’s smile faltered. “you were just…?”

wonyoung hesitated. “Inhave strong feelings for you, but it can’t be romantic.”

yn let out a breathy laugh, but this one was sharp, bitter. “you’re delusional.”

wonyoung’s voice cracked. “we can’t be together. I don’t like girls. I was just—I don’t know what I was doing with you.”

“so what,” yn scoffed, voice laced with hurt, “you were just using me for your closeted urges?”

wonyoung looked at her with tear filled eyes, “I’m not closeted, I just- I just was being weird I don’t know what I was thinking, I don’t like girls.”

“right,” yn said, voice barely above a whisper, “maybe you should leave,”

wonyoung swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry, we can still be friends, that’s what girls do, they’re friends.”

yn let out of laugh of disbelief, before grabbing wonyoung’s arm ignoring wonyoung’s yn please and dragging her to the door, “you’re ridiculous.”

the door shut behind wonyoung, leaving yn alone. she threw herself onto the couch, face buried in the pillow, and screamed. she stayed like that for an hour until the boys came back.

“what’s wrong with you?” jay asked, looking at her suspiciously.

yn lifted her head, her voice hollow. “nothing.”

wonbin and jay exchanged a look.

one look was all it took. yn broke, throwing herself into them, sobs wracking her body as they held her.

“it’s okay,” jay murmured, rubbing her back.

“you’re okay,” wonbin added.

but yn wasn’t sure if she believed them.

and that’s the story of yn and wonyoung