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kooyabooya · 5 months ago

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PARADIGM

m reader x yunjin // 19k words

Let’s get one thing straight: it’s incredibly difficult to get a good read on Huh Yunjin.

Goes without saying, she’s the girl that everyone wants. Exuberant on a vibe that’s very easy to fall into whenever she steps foot into the room; anyone within less than a three feet radius can notice it at first glance.

You’re bumping shoulder to shoulder with friends around the table - having a good laugh over lunch while she’s passing by with the slightest bit of eye contact with you and, fuck.

(Yeah, that’s usually how all good stories start.)

–

One big question that people would ask: how did all of this come to be in the first place with you and Yunjin?

You see, it’s kind of a long story.

(Technically, not really.)

It’s your fourth year of college. Not counting the additional fifth year because of some loose ends coursewise; you’re near the finish line, nonetheless.

Kazuha has been your roommate and close friend since the second year. She met you by random chance during orientation the first year but didn’t actually build a sense of closeness until you and her shared two classes together in between. Since she sat next to you in the lecture hall that first day of the new semester, she’s tagged along with you in the dining hall, the library, in some club activities that you were the plus one in, a few scattered parties here or there, and occasionally times where you’re nursing Kazuha for having one too many drinks.

In some ways, she’s the opposite of your ideal paradigm, or at least how you want things to be in the fast-paced style of college.

It’s through Kazuha where you meet Sakura. The first impression of her in comparison to Kauzha is that Sakura’s the kind of girl who knows exactly what she wants in her life. She’s foot to the floor, no bullshit type of deal. You don’t really have any classes with her specifically since she’s busy down in the fashion part of campus, but drops by to chill with you and Kazuha in between her long hours of sketching and crocheting. To Sakura’s credit also, she’s the one who roped in Kazuha on the party side of things, always coming over on Friday nights to pick her up and giving you some sort of codename through text to signify that Kazuha royally fucked herself over and needs a designated driver, or another word to let you know that she’s getting her legs split open by some guy that they met at the club.

(You’ve dealt with it for so long since the first time, it’s basically kind of the norm when she brings over her boytoys while you’re also in the house. Some of the guys are nice, and one of them was actually one of your classmates - so, that was a bit weird for a short while.)

Moving forward,

It’s lunch, probably on a Tuesday or Wednesday; your mind was already plagued with the bombardment of assignments and extracurriculars filling up your calendar. Kazuha and a few others in your circle are beating the dry autumn heat by taking refuge in the student center, occupying one of the conversation spots debating over something stupid. One of your friends tells you to dish your opinion and you tell them that you’re too checked out to even listen to the topic that they’re discussing. Now that we’ve got that sorted, can you guys let me put my head back down? You plead, earning a few laughs and a shoulder rub from Kazuha sitting next to you.

“Have you eaten yet?” Kazuha asks you, sitting up to grab your nearly empty water bottle. “God, it even sounds unnatural for me to be worried for you.”

“I had like-” you say, chugging down the bottle, letting the plastic crunch around your hand, “-a big breakfast, and I’m just tired. Thank you for asking.”

Kazuha gives you a light shove while you let out a small laugh, acting like the blowback was gonna have you fall off the table. She hates how much you fake things with her, but it’s not her fault how unbelievably gullible she’s made herself to be. “This is exactly why you’re not dating material.”

Another one of your friends sitting chimes in, “That’s a little rude coming from you, Kazuha.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” she refutes, hands up to proclaim her innocence. “You guys should be the one to press him since he almost skipped class this morning.”

“Only because I overslept from the night before doing an assignment that took way longer than I expected.” You state your case, reaching in your bag for a small ziploc of cookies, sliding it over to your classmate sitting on the opposite end of the corner. “And are we not gonna talk about how Kazuha slept with one of the people in my accounting class?”

“Yeah, what the hell is all that about Zu?” Jisun asks suddenly, sitting next to Kazuha on the left side, “Since when have you been sleeping with guys on a weekend basis?”

“Ever since Sakura brought her out clubbing one Friday night,” you butt in, fingers to your temple and elbow on the table, reminiscing on the memories like some war flashback, “You guys should see what it's like back at the apartment.”

“What was the initial reaction to seeing your classmate from accounting?” someone at the table asks, “God, that must be like, so weird to see them walking down the hallway.”

“Believe me,” you breathe, not sure whether to be shocked or disappointed at the memory, “I talked to him on the way out the next morning and he asked me about our next lecture.” Kazuha bumps your shoulder to let you know that she was in on the conversation that morning after, “At least he has his priorities straight after the one night stand.”

Kazuha's face cringes out towards the group which makes everyone laugh, including you. One of the other table members joke about this story of someone doing the walk of shame after getting caught in the science building by security, discreetly pointing them out since they walked by on the opposite end of the walkway. The way they had their hoodie up covering their face in public, can’t help but feel bad for them.

At the same time, two girls walk towards your table, on the edge. One of them was slightly taller than the other with a different hair color as well. Your attention was focused on the taller person, who had a prep school type of vibe in their appearance. She was wearing a plaid skirt, high socks with stilettos, one earbud on while she’s looking over to her friend talking about something - not wanting to wonder what they’re talking about.

It’s when she looks out to the windows behind your table, where there’s this weird feeling in you that shifts the balance of the universe it seems like. Nothing ever in your life makes you stop and wonder if the next day would be your last, but in this case - well, the only case, where a girl crosses your path and makes you lose every bit of composure built up in a matter of seconds.

This girl is cute. That’s the first (and evident) note of observation. What makes it even more puzzling is how this girl is maintaining eye contact with you the whole time as she’s walking. Everyone around the table is stuck in a state of confusion while you suddenly stood up without any reason. Kazuha notices the glances from you and the girl passing by, assessing, connecting the dots together, and she looks back with a realizing ‘ahh’ leaving her mouth.

Once you sit back down, the girl walking by looks forward, but does a double take back at you that only solidifies the growing mystery brewing in that short connection. The table all exchange looks at each other, wondering what in the fuck happened just now, and they have questions.

“Uh,” one of your friends sounded off to break the silence, “What was that just now?”

“Yeah,” another adds on while clearly trying to put it together with pointer fingers, “That wasn’t normal.”

“Clearly,” you say, scratching your neck to play off the awkward exchange of eyes. “Who was she?”

“The girl?” Kazuha beams, “Huh? Oh! That’s Yunjin! She and I actually go way back. I didn’t even realize that was her because of her hair color.”

“Are you serious?!” Jisun asks, distraught at the name itself, “You’re friends with Yunjin? The Yunjin that everyone wants to get with here around school?!”

While Kazuha drops the short summary of her backstory with her childhood friend, one of the other guys at the table walks over to you with hands on your shoulders, massaging them as a way of saying congratulations to getting one of the hottest girls on campus to notice you. You’re still processing - it might be a coincidence, or accepting the fact that one-in-a-million moment will never happen again.

“Alright you guys,” you say, shouldering on your backpack while patting down the hoodie, “As much as I’d love to stay and chat about what just happened with that little staring contest, I’ve gotta go to class.”

“Boo, no fun,” Kazuha says, pointing a thumb down while a few others around the table are doing the same thing, “Hope you have fun in your class, or sleep through the boring lecture at least.”

You walk off with a subtle wave, and that’s where the story should end, without ever hoping for a second interaction with Yunjin in your life anytime soon. The staredown for a few seconds would be funny to think about for the rest of the day, but the story will be something to joke about long after getting y’know; life and everything else together.

–

Or so you thought.

Turns out that your afternoon class is running later than usual, an email notification from your professor spelled out the message of him being stuck in traffic due to an accident on the way here. Some students are just lounging on the seats while others have their heads down to catch up on sleep - you could also use the power nap, too. Let’s not forget about the type A students reading into their textbooks and iPads sitting at the front row, could be you if you actually tried but you’re good with just doing enough for your own academic standards.

Kazuha texts you that she’s gonna be late tonight, probably because of some cramming with Jisun or Saerom or whoever she tagged along with that isn’t Sakura, hitting a fast reply of okay, i’ll make sure to save some food for you when you get back.

Right when you hit send, the empty seat next to you becomes occupied, and the hair color looks a little too familiar from the millisecond glimpse out of your peripheral. Her fragrance comes off as coconut, maybe something syrupy, but the sigh of relaxation curtained by her overcast shade of sunset cherry in her hair, how she swivels her head towards your direction; determined, upbeat, and strikingly beautiful.

“Hi,” Yunjin says, and you’re stuck frozen with parted lips. There’s a sudden chill running down your spine, a snap of the door being shut by one of the students that almost mocks the sound of a gun being fired in a closed-off chamber. There isn’t any sunlight that’s breaking through the overhanging windows beneath the top half of the class, but you’re simply starstruck from the mash of highlights in her almond eyes, the rose pink shade of her lips, her sunset colored hair that looks unreal for someone to have, how you might be thinking of the radiating beams of light shooting on the edge of her stature; no this isn’t a mere hallucination or a prank from someone else, this is actually the real deal. “I wasn’t here for the last lecture, so would it be okay if I could borrow your notes?”

You hate how vulnerable you are in this state. You would’ve answered in an instant, but this is Huh Yunjin we’re talking about here. Oh, by the way, you should probably say something before–

“Sure.” you answer, snapping yourself from the momentary trance of this girl’s beauty sitting next to you, rummaging through your backpack to pull out your notebook following your tablet, sliding it over while Yunjin clasps her hands together in prayer, bowing her head as thanks for not turning her down. “It’ll be the page before the blank one when you flip through it.”

“Thanks.” she says, happily flipping through the notebook to see the contents of your notes, tongue stuck to the corner until reaching the most recent page. Reaching in her bag for the pencil case and notebook already opened, she begins to jot down whatever missing material she has while you observe her work.

Her penmanship is actually pretty to look at, and the fact that she puts a curve up with her apostrophes - not to mention the amount of small cat ears and hearts she doodles with on her page while reading your notes? Yeah, you’re a goner already.

And for the most part, how could you not be? You’re already entranced at the way her hands twiddle the mechanical pencil, how her nails clack along the desk, how she’s reciting terms and the articulation behind her words sound very intricate and clear. An elbow’s holding your head while your eyes skim through the words being transferred over from your notebook to yours; watching the drawbridge of her eyebrows quirk up at some unknown, but her whisky colored eyes spark up along with the arch, appearing bigger, can’t help with the force in your heart smiling at the sight of learning something useful.

“-and when this occurs, oh- I see.” She’s nodding at the understanding of what she’s quickly reading. This is someone who knows what they’re doing, who has their priorities straight; humming with pure delight with the way she likes learning. Hang on a second, when the hell was she part of the class?

“Take it that you’re done with this?” you ask, fingertips grazing the rings of the notebook while Yunjin sets her pencil flat on the desk.

“I’ve already got what I need to catch up on, thank you.” Her laugh is subtle, and quiet, closing up the book and sliding it back towards you while tending to her own. “Thought I’d be missing a lot, but good to know that I wasn’t.”

“In this kind of class? You could say fuck all with the attendance and just come in for the exams.”

Her head dips down, eyes sweeping from one corner to the other. She’s hiding the smile, but there’s something lovely about the way her mouth quirks. That dimple is a lovely sight, a gold medal you’ll keep in your head, whether she’s interested or not.

She puts the pencil back into her case, zips it across halfway. “Can I ask,” she says, twisting her body to face yours, “You’re close with Kazuha, right?”

“If you consider me to be her roommate as close, then, yes.”

Yunjin gawks at you in shock, connecting the dots, another point brewing.

“You’re the same person that I saw while walking in the hall earlier? Oh my God!” she realizes, trying to keep her excitement down in the quiet classroom. “I was hoping that she’d help me in meeting you, but-”

“Looks like you skipped the hard part all by yourself.” you tell her, acknowledging, blinking with a wide grin. “I know enough from her about you, but she’ll be thrilled to hear about this after.”

“What makes you say that?”

You notice the small stack of post-it notes sitting adjacent to Yunjin’s pencil case, pulling one from the stack and writing down something on the paper that you didn’t think of having the courage to do in the first place.

A smooth operator move, she chuckles at the phone number sketched on the small slip.

This probably might be your favorite day to attend class so far this semester.

–

For what’s it worth, the attention garnered around you and Yunjin wasn’t asked for. If anything, the noise around campus just made it a bigger deal than what it actually seemed. The added reputation didn’t even feel forced from others - much rather the opposite; almost in mixes of praise and pats on the back for doing something that most couldn’t be able to do.

Some would ask too, about what it’s like ‘dating the hottest ticket around college?’ or ‘who made the first move?’

To that, you shake your head and laugh, though the answer to the first question in itself was quite simple to say:

Pretty fucking crazy at times - but good, mostly great.

Honestly, you’d also imagine this sort of parallel universe where you’re not in a relationship with Yunjin. What would it be like? A few of the positives would probably be the better balance between classes, or maybe the cash in your wallet and card would be a little bit more than what it is now; god, the list can just go on the more you think about it. Worrying would be overstepping the thought itself, complicating the mental picture would make it even more cathartic. Bottom line is: it’s a surreal thing to actually be with someone who’s ten times out of your league.

Some would also ask, what’s your favorite thing about her?

Man, that’s already a tough question as it is, so that one doesn’t get answered easily.

Best that you could settle for is the way she presents herself. One day she walks in the classroom as if it’s the runway at Paris Fashion Week with the most jaw-dropping outfits created by the industry’s best designers - the next day she could walk in with the most casual, comfy fit ever created from the bedroom closet. From the makeup and hair color all the way down to her shoes and socks, she’ll magnetize anyone with low or high effort. There’s something in the way that she extends herself to others; the way her eyes widen at someone she knows, how the sun kisses her skin so tenderly - radiating richness and grandeur to compliment the addicting smile and laugh she possesses. When you look closely, you could also see the tiny hints of freckles spread across her cheeks; oh, and the moles, specifically underneath her right eye and off-centered to her nose, you’d kiss them for eternity if you had the chance to.

It’s unfair how you can’t compete with that.

How could a person that’s on the cusp of making a whole world’s difference with their life manage to get with a guy like you? Had it been anyone else in your position, they’d be the happiest person on the planet, no denying that. There has to be an endless plethora of things that could serve a plausible reason to this, but out of everyone, she chose you.

(The standard she has. The status, the reputation, the talks that people have when she’s strolling through the hallways and around campus.

Everyone can read the outside aspect, but within the inner circle, it’s a completely different conversation entirely.)

“And let me tell you this,” Kazuha says, leaning back on the seat with one leg over the other, “He told me that and I quote, ‘I would go all night with you,’ and he didn’t. Came in about two minutes flat, maybe less.”

You’re facepalming hard while Kazuha pushes you close to the edge, almost offended by your reaction. The amount of stories with her short-term flirts and one night stands have gotten so bad to the point where, only a stark few of them were worthy enough of a debrief by you. This usually occurs on a weekend basis, you assess, not wanting any part of it after the first time it happened - and then the next, then the next, and the next one.

“Have you ever wondered like,” you ask while reaching forward for your glass half full of your usual liquor, “Wanting to actually date with one of your fuck buddies, like for real?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Kazuha replies, sitting up with her phone facing flat across her thigh, “The chance hasn’t really come my way yet.”

“I’m sure it’ll come.” you tell her, downing another swig of the drink.

“You think I’ve got a screw loose with how I act?”

“Are you kidding me? Show me how many booty calls you’ve got on your phone since Sakura hooked you up.”

Kazuha sticks her tongue at you, pulling herself away from your reaching hand, laughing while she’s practically got her feet up with the cushions now. A lean over more, and she’s curling herself up into a ball while you’re looking around to see if anyone’s paying attention.

“We could get kicked out of here.” Kazuha says, properly sitting up while you’re hunching over to slip on the lent pair of bowling shoes, undoing the set knots and opening up the tongue of the shoe while the sounds of knocked pins echo underneath the blasting bass coming from the speakers.

“Get kicked out before we even get started?”

“You’re the one who’s trying to grab my phone!”

“I asked nicely.”

“Didn’t hear a ‘please’ from you.”

You roll your eyes, stamping a foot down lightly to ensure that the shoe fits perfectly as intended. Might be a bit tight on the back of the heel, but it’ll do. Besides, this Wednesday-night planned hangout at the bowling lanes was on the agenda for quite some time, only put off because certain people have been busy with a few assignments from classes, which you can’t blame them since the semester has been a bit stagnant midway through.

A look at the watch, and the time was a bit delayed than the intended arrangement. “Where’s Chaewon and Sakura?”

Kazuha checks her phone for any updates via notifications, “Sakura’s running late. Chaewon and her boyfriend just picked up Yunjin ten minutes ago. They should be here any minute now.”

With that taken into account, you take small steps to the little control panel, looking up to the tv to put in the proper abbreviated nicknames for the competitors who have yet to arrive at the lanes. There’s a small sense of creativity amongst the five or six competitors: Kkura, Chae, Zuha, Jen Jen, yours (which is pretty bland for your taste, but Yunjin likes it), and whoever Sakura invited along with her if she brought them. “Didn’t buy three to five games for nothing.”

“You’re literally the only one here that likes to bowl in their free time.” Kazuha deadpans.

“Tell that to Chaewon and Sakura who competed in ping pong the last time.” you tell her, pressing some of the unresponsive keys that forces a typo on Sakura’s, but you don’t bother changing it back. “Those two will take up the last two games for sure. Put my money on it.”

“Not even worth losing ten bucks for that.” Kazuha scooches over to the end of the seat, french fry hanging off her mouth, texting whoever it may be whether it’s one of her classmates or one of Sakura’s flings being thrown down her pipeline. To be fair, it’s been about two weeks since she brought someone into the apartment, and she’s quite overdue for a good dick appointment.

Whatever that may be, you’ll pay no attention to that.

“Speaking of which,” she continued, with a bowling ball in her arms, polishing it with the sleeve of her puffer jacket, “Where is Yunjin? And why wasn’t she with you in the first place when we left the apartment?”

“It’s because she insisted on turning in our flash drive for the project we worked together on for one of our classes,” you answer, pressing a thumb down on the panel to finalize the names for the game’s competitors, watching off in the distance as the machine barrier lifts up opening the ten bowling pins to the line. “I offered to go with her so that it shows the professor that we actually did a collaborative effort, but then you called me.”

“Ouch, sorry.” Kazuha winces, you wave her off with a shake of the head while she puts her preferred ball on the rails of the return system next to yours. A size seven ball with medium finger placements in comparison to your size ten with the large specified holes. You argued that weight was better than speed, and Kazuha was willing to bet who scores the highest with their preferred bowling ball pays the other person’s meal at the next outing. “If you’d told me that before I bolted to my morning class, I wouldn’t have called you.”

“Wasn’t my fault you overslept your alarm three times,” you agree, chuckling. “To be fair, I hate the alarm sound for your phone anyway.”

“Not changing it anytime soon,” Kazuha says proudly, hands firmly in the pockets of her jacket, “Looks like you’re gonna have to deal with it.”

“And I’ll cockblock your next dick appointment personally, just out of spite.” you say, and Kazuha frowns with a pout instantaneously.

Amidst the slow riff of the electric guitar lightly reverberates along the subwoofers hanging above the lanes. There’s a sudden surge of newcomers looking to simply let loose and have a good time. It’s a Friday, middle of the semester, one of those weekends where you’re just mentally checked out from all the buzz between school and the extracurriculars and stress for the coming midterms. That’s how it is in this kind of environment: work hard, play harder.

While some are here to just take space in the pool tables, others are in the arcade to break the ice in the lines of a first date. Few people here are actually closet bowlers with a different avenue of profession holding them back from wasting their time rolling their life or something of that substance. You’re tired with school, but it won’t be long until you’re walking in about a year or less, nothing wrong with having nights like these.

Your ears pick up on a familiar honey saccharine laugh, along with a string of bickers from a voice constantly sounding angry. A look slightly up to the walkways, and there’s a quartet approaching your spot before the lanes. One of them in a vortex of blonde hair, hands gesturing behind someone else in front of her before slapping their back lightly. The girl in front with the same hair color has her brows furrowed, scrunching at the slight pain from their back, but also letting out signs of fun with good intent. Then there’s the two individuals in tow behind the first duo; a girl with hair colored a mix of sunset orange and a dash of red along with a single guy who’s slightly taller compared to the trio. You automatically connect the dots in your head to deduce that to be Chaewon’s boyfriend, and the other head towards you and Kazuha. It’s an impending headache of bullshit heading your way, but you’ve put up with it for so long and it’ll happen again.

“You’re late,” you announce, finger to the top of your wrist. “Zuha and I have been here for the past twenty minutes.”

“Fuck off,” Sakura sneers, shucking off her handbag to the seat while letting her lent pair of bowling shoes hit the hardwood. Her tone comes off as harsh - might be mistaken as someone to be antagonistic. To be fair, her and Chaewon have grown up together since they were little, wouldn’t be normal if one didn’t annoy the other to the point where both of them would have to draw knives. But you’ll keep the popcorn behind your back until that moment comes, “Tell that to Chaewon who almost ran my ass over in the parking lot.”

“Did not!” Chaewon exclaims, already on the seat and untying her shoes while her boyfriend does the same, “It’s not my fault that you didn’t look both ways before crossing!”

“Both of you guys need to chill,” Chaewon’s boyfriend chimes in, hoping to defuse the situation before it even gets worse, not paying any ounce of attention while slipping on to his pair of bowling shoes. “I thought we all came here to have some fun, did we not?”

“We did,” you sigh, gliding on over with a cup half full of the beer that you ordered for the group. Chaewon’s boyfriend looks up, slightly hesitant in taking the offer - knowing that if everyone in the group drank tonight, no one was assigned to be designated driver. So, he takes the cup, raises it to you in acceptance, and takes a quick sip. “It’s still on the table if the two most competitive people I’ve ever met can actually make up before going crazy with the game.”

Chaewon and Sakura both look at you in disgust, simultaneously giving you the middle finger while you shrug, swiveling your head to the opposite direction to finally see the third girl that was with the group - the only person you were technically waiting for since arriving here, and she doesn’t really need an introduction.

A walk up to her on the opposite bench that wasn’t occupied by four people, and Yunjin matches your demeanor.

It’s the most innocent look you could give her: a sheepish smile. She looks at you while you’re noticing a small speck of dust at the edge of her jacket before tending to her stray wisps of hair. The way she bats her eyelashes through those rimless pairs of glasses, it’s impossible to not notice the wideness her eyes zeroing in on you while playing the worrying boyfriend you are. Consider it to be a protocol - the smug smile across your face, and you haven’t said anything to her in the opening five seconds of seeing her.

“Missed me that much?” Yunjin asks, slipping out of the lent leather jacket she swiped from your closet. “You could’ve gone with me to turn in our assignment together.”

“You see, about that.” You got a hand on the jacket, tossing it over to the seat. “I would have, if Kazuha didn’t egg me ten minutes before we left the house.”

It’s been merely more than five seconds, and the pleasantries are already skipped over; though there’s a small exchange of smiles and ghosting hands - not wanting to taint the perfect appearance that Yunjin has, wandering eyes all over her like an art piece. She’s stolen your jacket, the shirt underneath was also one of yours from the closet; within all the lines of casual, she owns the category second to none.

You’re rambling about how much of a pain it was bringing Kazuha, even though she wasn’t even the sole person who planned this hangout in the first place. A second look at the shirt that Yunjin’s wearing and you point it out while dumping the exposition. She runs a hand through her hair, coming it downwards with her fingers while paying half attention to the words spilling out of your mouth. “Did I also mention that you’re wearing one of my favorite shirts again?”

She just laughs, takes a few steps forward, gives you a quick kiss right then and there.

She also loves how that simple action shuts you up.

“You’re missing something,” she tells you, fixing a few places of your hair while you’re standing there completely frozen.

Acknowledging with a nod, “Yes, I did miss you that much.” Giving her a few light head pats while her eyes smile with content. “Thank you for turning in our project for us. I’ll owe you my life.”

“You will,” she says, sitting down and untying her sneakers, “Still should’ve gone with me though.”

“I know.”

“Are we gonna get this game started?” Sakura asks across the table, holding up a bowling ball that is clearly Kazuha’s, but she doesn’t care. “I just bet that if I beat Chaewon, she’s buying all of us dinner when we’re done here!”

“You’re shit at ping pong, and I’ll kick your ass at bowling too.” Chaewon rebukes, clearly motivated now to not let that happen on her watch. “Unless pretty boy over there and his girlfriend want to join in the competition to make things more interesting.”

“A double team against you two?” Yunjin inquires, finishing up the last lace on her shoe before standing up, walking over to the return system to see which ball to pick, “How ‘bout whoever scores the lowest gets to pay for the meal. Deal?”

“You’re on,” you say, “But Yunjin’s winning in a landslide over the three of us.”

Sakura presses a few buttons on the touchpad, finally getting the long-awaited bowling game started.

(Yunjin wins by no surprise, Sakura nearly edges you out by single digits, and Chaewon came dead last which means: the meal was on her after the games.)

–

Each new week into the semester brings a new tale of challenges, assignments, and fun plans with peers in and out of the campus - except this time; however, because you fucked up.

The swing of the door into your apartment should already spell some sort of bad omen with the way that you’re frantically pacing into the kitchen, overlooking into the small opening to the living room, seeing Yunjin wrapping up her fifteen minute ab workout video, not paying any mind to while finishing the last few reps.

“Babe?” you call out while putting a thermos onto the countertop, one sweep over with a poking head to see her laying on the mat. “Ah, right. Your workout.”

Her brow furrows while trying to concentrate in holding the planking position, holding herself in place for another five seconds or so, finally falling flat when the timer goes, softly panting before sitting up and facing you. She’s in a sports bra and one of your sweatpants that pool at her feet - though the robbery complaint will get ignored.

There’s something about her being astonishingly pretty in homebody clothes. Hair in a low ponytail, lip lightly touched, there’s a thin layer of sweat covering her upper body. Normally, you’d tell her to go take a shower right away. You’re committing perjury for not telling her in the first place.

“You took longer than expected,” she says, looking up to accept the greeting kiss while you’re towering over her. “Where were you?”

“Had to take care of some stuff outside class. And then I had to take care of something else,” you answer, backpack to the couch. “Which leads me to my next thing that I have- no, need to tell you.”

“Have you done something wrong?” Yunjin asks, standing up, eyes narrowed when she notices your worrying expression. Her hand dances along the hem of her sports bra when you help her up, while you tend to her messy hair as she tries to read into your body language.

“No?” you tell her, hoping that answer would suffice for the time being.

It doesn’t.

“What did you do now?” She frowns, eyes squinting closely together - pushing further into admitting what was going on. That was already strike one, and getting two more was never an option. “As long as you tell me, I deserve to know at least.”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

“Can’t promise you that.”

Taking a deep breath, you place both of your hands on her shoulders, guiding her down to sit with you on the couch while you take another momentary silence to gather your thoughts and words, hoping to bring the news up in the most sincere and serious way as you could.

“Well?” Yunjin asks again, prompting you to get on with it and drop the stalling.

“Alright,” you start, “Do you remember that uh- sex tape we made together last week?” Might be a dumb question, but how could either one of you forget? The look on Yunjin’s face says a whole lot more than what her answer might be, and she’s grinning just thinking about it. “I thought you were serious about–”

“I am!” she exclaims, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks and the grip on your hands grow tighter, “But what does that have to do with your-”

“I know, I know. Stay with me here.” you assure before delivering the final blow.

You can’t help but laugh while your finger presses softly to her lips. The memory itself is also flashing through your mind, how your hands grip around her ass with her back arched up, the way she’s splayed on her back, filling her pussy up with your cock working its way down to her stomach. Bending her in half while her lovely heat clenches around you to the point where she’s screaming. The assessment running behind Yunjin’s eyes and the glossiness tells you everything that there is to know about it. Her brows furrow again with an inward lip, thinking about the way she marks you up with scratches across your forearms and back, groaning into her ear while you’re shattering her into the mattress.

(Can’t forget about the face she has while you’re fucking her rough - a string of pants and whines that go up in two ascending octaves, then diminishes to almost nothing, unraveling herself all over your dick when she locks you down with her ankles to the small of your back. She’s so helpless, especially when-

“Fuck, yes baby, right there-”

More on that, eventually.)

“So you might’ve turned that flash drive in to our professor.” you tell her, squeezing your eyes shut, bracing for a hit from Yunjin. “Not your fault though, this was all my doing.”

“Okay,” she laughs in disbelief while doing this form of jazz-hands, “First of all, we can just ask to exchange it. Second of all, who the hell saves a sex tape on a flash drive? I mean, what the fuck were you thinking while setting up our final submission?”

“I was looking at it while editing our project and I just got so caught up with the way your soft moans got to me in the recording and how your tits were just–” you remark, quivering with a grin while Yunjin scrunches her face at you.

“And what are we waiting for?” she asks, wrinkling her nose while laughing out loud. “Either we act now or get both of our asses expelled before we even get to graduate?”

“If all goes well, we should honestly be fine.” you tell her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, hand quick behind your back to give her a face towel. “If it doesn’t, at least we can say that we tried to prevent this from happening.”

“This is your fault, by the way.” Yunjin says while taking your hand up and on the way out the door. “I was the one who turned our sex tape in supposedly, and I’m gonna be the one to get it back.”

The way that you don’t even put up a refute to her, the way your feet carry themselves behind her, the loud ‘thum’ of the deadbolt outside the apartment should already be a sign of what’s to come.

–

You’d be amazed at how well you’ve held your patience while Yunjin was doing all of the talking with the professor, trying to reason out as much as she could for just a simple exchange. For some reason, the man wouldn’t even budge without the speculation of nothing being in the contents of the flash drive and considering the fact that it was the deadline.

“Sir, if you could please just-”

“Save it,” he says, pressing the bridge of his glasses up towards his face, “Look, I know that you two are of my brightest students in the class, but it’s just oddly suspicious that you’re asking me to swap out the turned in flash drive for another all because of some mix up?”

“Can’t you just not do that instead?” you ask, offering the proper flash drive to the professor. “Yunjin and I have already proven to be your most esteemed students this semester, this small mixup just shows that there’s that built trust from over the past–”

“I understand that, but I just can’t fathom that you two are pulling this over me at the very last minute right before I go over them,” the professor declares, “It’s too suspicious as it is and if worse comes to worse, I’ll have to report both of you to the dean’s office if we can’t come up with a compromise here.”

“But sir–” Yunjin tries to butt in, hoping to reiterate the case.

“I expected more from you, Yunjin.” He says, leaning back on his chair, “I’m very disappointed in the way you are acting just now. This isn’t like you, and I expected better.”

“Blame me instead of her.” you plead, standing in front to neutralize the hostility. “She was turning it in for us in the first place.” The professor just scoffs mockingly, sputtering different kinds of insults that would be enough evidence for him to get fired, and that’s where you reach the boiling point first.

“Enough of this nonsense,” the professor scowls while tossing the very flash drive Yunjin gave into the basket filled with the others. “You’ll get it back when I’m done grading these come Monday. Now please, get out of my office before we really start to have an issue.”

Before Yunjin opens her mouth to protest, you toss the correct flash drive into the professor’s chest, fishing into the basket to grab the other one resting atop of the pile. She picks up quickly to what you were doing, tossing a jar filled with pencils off the desk that leaves him in visible confusion, pulling her by the wrist and out the door where you and her make a break for it out in the hallway. Once rounding the corner, she starts giggling out of nowhere while you’re looking over your shoulder to see the small figure at the end of the corridor. Things take a turn for the worse when the sound of radio chatter could be heard coming up the stairs off your right, and on the opposite end was the janitor's closet. Any delay by more than two seconds would only spell disaster if you didn’t yank her inside right away.

“Fucking security,” you mutter, following the slam of the door and a press of the ear against the wood to get a better chance of hearing what was being said. Yunjin’s pressed close to you, meeting your gaze once the conversations faded out into the hallway. A sigh of relief leaves your lips while Yunjin again is trying not to laugh at what you two did. “Okay, I think they’re gone, but we can’t leave now. There’s too much commotion down near the office, so we gotta wait.”

“I can’t believe we just did that.” Yunjin breathes, hand to her chest to calm down her heart rate, still trying to come to grips with what just happened in the span of three minutes. “Even crazier that you managed to get the right flash drive.”

“Well shit,” you tell her, hand out to see that the outer case of the flash drive had been damaged, much to your responsibility since you stepped on it by accident while stumbling over in the hallway. “Expulsion is out of the equation, but man,” you say, putting the damage back into your pocket, “This sucks. I was hoping to save the contents in that drive.”

“This might be a good thing.” Yunjin tells you, reassuring.

“What makes you say that?” The sigh leaving your lips is laced with frustration, “I don’t think- ugh, that was some of the best sex we had. Yunjin, I- you don’t realize how hot that video was when I was looking at it and now? It’s gone.” She looks at you in sympathy, pulling her lip inward while trying to calm down your clenched fists, trying to not let her thoughts get the better of her with the way your hands could grip her hair.

“Since we’ll be here for quite a bit, why don’t we get to work making a new one?” She asks with a chin tilt up, pressing your back against the door when her lips meet yours, taking you completely off guard by the contact.

It’s a full on advantage for Yunjin in this case, swirling her tongue against yours, not willing to bear in mind when the feedback of a radio approaches near the door. Getting caught is one thing - but there’s worse ways to go. You pull back from the lack of oxygen, a swipe of her upper lip to yours, warm breath hanging in the open space while you collect your thoughts. “Y-You’re gonna have to give me a minute here.”

“What for?”

“I’m not complaining at all, but uh, what’s with,” a giggle leaves your mouth, “the affection, all of a sudden?”

“Nothing,” she replies, “It was just hot- really hot. I just think you giving your piece of mind to him for me was probably the best highlight of our whole semester so far…” Her voice trails off while her hand slithers down to your waking cock through your pants to cement down her thoughts. A hand pulls you by the nape of your neck to meet her lips again, moving sensually in the closed space, her mouth leaving these teasingly touches while she’s assessing your length in languid pumps.

From the dazed expression in your eyes and swollen lips, you’re already entranced at the way she’s sinking to her knees in front of you, the hitched breaths and slow shuffle at the pull of your sweats and boxers to the ankles. Yunjin softly gasps, a thrill that never gets old when she uncovers the length from it’s clothed chamber, licking her lip while all of her attention focuses in on your cock hanging proud between your thighs; the many things she’s currently thinking about - and you’re not far off the thread of thinking too.

You’re already imagining the velvety heat of her mouth while she’s preparing for that familiar ache of taking you down her throat. Before she could have fun for herself, she pulls the zipper of her track jacket, revealing the same sports bra from earlier, pulling the tight piece up and over to reveal her tits, noticing the small twitch when she finally runs her fingers along the veins of your shaft, wrapping slowly while the jerk in your knees ends with a mouth curl from her.

“The video would be really nice right now, wouldn’t it?” she breathes, thumb grazing the slit of your tip that’s soaked with a small hint of precum leaking, assessing the conditions with clinical precision every pump. Her eyes meet yours, already wild with imagination as she continues to stroke you softly. “Babe?”

“No- no phone.”

“I brought mine with me, stupid.” Yunjin tells you, dropping the excitement from her face.

She laughs when you’re murmuring out these complaints, only for that to be ignored when she’s quick to hand her phone to you. “You were in a rush,” you reason, “Didn’t have time to grab mine sitting on the kitchen countertop.”

“What would you do without me?”

“I have my right hand to do the job.”

“Angle it properly,” Yunjin instructs, smirking at the gasp while she cradles your balls. “Is it in the right position?” Your hands steady over her head, pointing the camera while her gaze transforms into something more needy, someone who’s desperately hungry to get herself satisfied. It’s unbearably pretty the way she gets like this for you, pulling her lips inward to get them wet while your eyes are fixated through the phone screen, flexing your waist a bit in anticipation while her tongue licks up your cockhead - an appetizer of sorts, before finally taking you in.

Everything rushes and slows down the way her lips close around the third of your shaft. Not wanting to focus on what’s happening below, you look up with eyelids fluttering shut at the way her mouth and tongue continue to lap up the length, eventually sliding down, easing more and more of you down her throat, coating your cock with her mouth the more she sinks. She knows all of the inner workings of what you love in blowing you.

“Yunjin, fuck. Baby,” She intends to break you apart with her mouth, once she reaches down the base, holding you there while some of her saliva leaks out in repeating gags, hips twitching at the clench while her tongue sweeps underneath in a slow, consistent rhythm.

The vibrating hum she rumbles along the line of your cock, she steadily keeps up her pace while her ears pick up on the shallow breaths coming out of you. Forget about the video, or the noises that pick up in decibels - in addition to the back of your head hitting the door. It’s always addictive the way her mouth sheathes your length, having no gag reflex was something amazing for Yunjin to have, repeatedly pulling her head back up and dipping back in to take you deep.

She grazes her teeth to a smile while your fingers thread through her hair, internalizing the pulse, that sweet heat of her mouth and how wet it is; the fucking suction, goddamnit. Her suction was way to fucking good for you to pay attention to. “There. Y-you’re so good- great at- fuck-”

Yunjin just hums to accept the compliment, pulling away to angle your cock upwards to put one of your balls in her mouth, lathering it in her spit. “Camera, tilting.”

“Yeah, yeah.” you say, lazily. A small fix of the phone in your hand finds her face right in frame, as she resumes her oral assault on your cock. The volume of moans increases slightly from her and you, highlighting how much you’re enjoying this while she hollows her cheeks halfway, taking you all the way down tight. Tighter. The sound of her throat clicking when your cockhead rests at the opening in her mouth, you’re furrowing your brows together while trying to keep it together as much as you could.

Pulling back slightly, tongue licking across the swollen head, she winks at you while you’re biting your lip so hard to the point that you’ll probably draw blood from it the next second. It’s not helping your situation - she’s giving these subtle ‘mhms’ when she slides you back into her mouth, eyes closing in bliss, upping the pace while you’re nestling a hand to the back of her head, dragging your cock along the top part of her mouth, forehead wrinkling in approval to let you know that she likes it.

Sliding you out for a second, “Put your shirt in your mouth.” She tells you, placing a precise kiss at the base while you’re staring at the screen. “You listening?”

You just groan.

Her hand is quick to hike up the bottom hem of your shirt, rolling it up to put a clump of the cloth between your teeth, and she just laughs before inhaling your length again.

You’re also trying to keep it together over the fact how much of a slut Yunjin gets for you, hoping that all of the button pushing will leave you into fucking her just exactly how she wants - you’ll just stand there like a good boy she'll ask, using that pretty mouth over your cock for what feels like an entering until you bust inside that lovely hole just to fill the other one later.

The pop she does off of your cock is obscene, jerking your shaft while she’s staring up, and the image on the screen is already something to capture for later.

“Are you liking this so far?” Yunjin asks, doe eyes doing very little for the heinous act she’s committing, giving your underside scattered pecks mixed with slurps over your drool covered cock. “I can tell from your writhing face that you are.”

“Bitch.” you spit, a futile effort at best.

“Fuck my mouth.” She orders, inhaling your cock down - all the way, clasping her lips to the base. You clench your teeth together, get your hand to her head again. Her eyes go wide in content while you slowly thrust up with her against your hips still, slacking her jaw to let you build up some speed to bury your dick in her throat.

Doesn’t take much long, mouth hanging in awe by the way she’s pulling up and out and going back in. A few good thrusts is all it takes to get the perfect pressure and suction around your cock, spit leaking out of her mouth while you’re finally getting your work cut out the more she gags around you. That fucking tongue is your worst enemy - the way that it’s licking up underneath a few times, one of the key ways to get you to finally open up that eventual bursting drain from within.

“Jen,” you hiss while fighting the urge to bust at the nickname alone, pushing her down while the moan she elicits over your dick throbs in her mouth, nearly breaking, “Gonna just, fuck, ‘m so close-”

“Mhm.”

The spit remains where its at while pleasure surges through your body, grinding your teeth to mask the heated groan while you cum down her throat, spilling copious amounts of your release into the hollow of her throat, feeling the languid clench past the opening while she’s swallowing it all. Her eyes go wide for a second at the load, closing them soon after as you manage to keep it together from your high, coming down when she slides herself off of you, coughing a bit while your knees jerk together in a millisecond of shock. Some of your cum spills out of her mouth and dribbles down between her tits, keeping the camera angle on her surprisingly while your cock floats right in front of her face. Yunjin leans forward to give a peppered kiss to the tip, collecting some of the remnants that rest at the slit before retreating, fingers treating the damage of her soaked and swollen lips.

“Thanks for that.” she says, chuckling, wiping off some of the evidence with her knuckles while blinking in quick succession, looking up at you fondly with those enormous bark eyes of hers while you stop the recording to hand her a piece from the brown paper towel roll sitting on the shelf, helping her up soon after while you’re fixing your clothes. “Told you that it was worth killing time for.”

“Looks like I owe you again for this,” you tell her, treating the drawstring of your sweats to a knot. “I’ll peek out to see if we’re in the clear.” Soon after you said that, you lean your head out the small opening of the door, realizing that there wasn’t anyone within a close distance in the hallway, stepping out and helping Yunjin out the closet, feeling out her jaw with her knuckles, trying to memorize the ache of her mouth you just gave her.

“We should get going, no?” She asks, hand to your shoulder while you’re about to enter the stairway. “And I’m holding you to that returned favor, since you’re gonna fuck me till I need to be in a wheelchair.”

“Isn’t that part of the fun we’re doing already?” you rebut, grabbing her hand, “The sooner we get back home, the faster I’ll make you cum, deal?”

You’re a silly idiot the way you’re pulling Yunjin by the wrist, picking up the pace while her smile was impossible to take off. She’s laughing again at the proposal, but also very looking forward to it.

–

The thing about Yunjin, you learn, for the most part, is how she’s painted to be this great girl that is only primed for success - and nothing less.

What others don’t realize, is the conventional pains and struggles she poses towards you - to the point where that agonizing migraine in your head just keeps on ringing. And sure, she’s the top student and role model amongst peers for a reason, showing up where it matters; but when it comes to the actual long hours of grinding schoolwork and building up her own life bit by bit, it’s within the walls of your apartment where the real stuff takes place.

A clean room at the beginning of the week, only for it to be completely ran through like a tornado and all over the place come Sunday.

In terms of assignments? She’s clean, all across the board - with the rare occasion of one class slipping out of her mind if you’re not there to remind her or bail her out since some subjects in her schedule are not her forte, but you’ll help out where you can.

The standard that she’s always trying to raise, for the most part, is the sex. Always the sex was the emphasis. She tries and you try, getting one over another or deal with whoever is going through it the most, especially if Yunjin’s the one who’s got a higher sex-drive than you, not that you’re putting it up for an argument, but willing to compete when present. Whether she’s looking for it or you are, she’ll find a way to push that idea into reality no matter if you’re with her or not.

“This better be important,” a familiar line you’ve been saying for quite a bit as of recently. “Couldn’t let me go for a few hours to have some fun with the rest of the guys?”

“When are you gonna be back?” She asks, and the tone in her voice comes as peculiar the way she sounds out of it. “I’ve been reading this stupid book before Kazuha and the others came back with some snacks.” There’s some laughter in the background, probably someone bickering over some gossip that happened earlier in the week that was sufficient enough to report. “Bless Kazuha, for getting me out of the room at least to socialize.”

“I thought that would kill more time for you while I’m gone.”

“It has, but everyone’s gone now. And Kazuha’s in her room asleep already.”

“And you?”

“In bed, trying to watch this series, but I miss you.”

“Aren’t you cute.” You muse.

There isn’t anything to be considered unusual with conversations like these over the phone or text. In all fairness, you did kind of feel bad for leaving her alone for a few hours since there were already plans made as it is, but Yunjin’s pouty face did everything it could to stop you until you left.

“I miss you. Can I not admit that?” She sighs. And you’re probably painting the picture of her being in one of your shirts, laid back on the bed or sat criss-cross - doing literally anything to keep herself moving as you two prolong the conversation.

One of the guys bumps you on the shoulder, hinting that they’re walking on ahead from the bar. You nod and start walking with them, clearing your throat before answering, “What if I told you I feel the exact same way? You can add on from that, I’m pretty sure.”

“God, the slight change in your voice when you’re trying to make me work,” she says, grinning while you continue to keep the steady walking pace. “Maybe if you can excuse yourself before the new hour, I’ll let you tie me up to the bed.”

“Yunjin. Christ-”

“I’ll let you know right now that I have nothing underneath your shirt at the moment. Just for good leverage.”

Oh, it’s another challenge alright. Two can play at this.

“Which shirt?” You ask, gauging the image forming in your head. “I forgot to give you thanks for doing the laundry earlier after, y’know.”

“This old shirt from that thrifting run we did. And you can thank me in other ways.” Yunjin says, humming as you can tell exactly what she’s doing. “I’m already imagining it, what you’ll do to me if you get home fast enough.”

“Like what,” you breathe, the huff going into the microphone that has her mixing her giggle with a half-moan in between. “I’m a visual learner, but I need details to set the picture right.”

There’s a quiet whine heard when you stop at the intersection, turning yourself away so that no one else in the group can pick up your current phone call, or at least have the frame of mind to ask you who’s on the other end. The stiff breaths on Yunjin’s side pick up in a loose rhythm. It’s no surprise; she’s slowly touching herself, and you can picture it. Forming the image of her hand between her thighs, letting her long figures slide in and out with a bit of a twist, increasing the sound of slick.

“I’m picturing your hand, thumb on my clit, getting me dizzy.”

“And?”

“How you’ll stretch my tiny pussy out, pressing my back down while I’m screaming into the mattress.”

“I will. What else?”

“Your cock-” she says, “Your lovely cock, how your hands roam across my body. Marking my skin up with your mouth and teeth in all the ways that I like it,” Yunjin inhales deeply, and you can visualize the arch in her back when she bottoms herself out, “-no idea, how good you’d look inside of me, right now. Bending me over the bed, riding you out, until you fuck me deep, using me just to get yourself off. The way you, fuck- get so addicted to me.”

“I know.” You tell her, looking both ways while crossing, “How many fingers did I get inside of you? Remind me again, three?” As you’re asking, one of the guys looks back in shock at what was said out loud, winking at them while nodding in approval. They know, besides, it’s the unspoken bro code.

“Three,” she whines, letting you know she’s limit testing herself with three of her fingers inside her pussy. “Your fingers are better, and maybe we can try four. The offer is still on the table.”

This fucking girl. “What’s my time limit here?”

Yunjin sounds unorganized, humming and breaking a whine. “Come back any later than eleven, and you don’t get to cum inside of me. I’m gonna get so close till you get here, and I’ll let you finish in my mouth as mercy.”

You click your tongue, convinced of the fact that you’re cornered for now, but it won’t matter if the end of the deal is held; with gritting teeth, Yunjin giggles at the assertion that you’ll fuck her senseless if that’s she wants. There’s nothing wrong with that declaration, since she’s the one who started all of this anyway.

“Alright, pretty boy. Thirty minutes.” Is all she says, and then hangs up. A second later she sends a picture of her reflection in the mirror, legs raised and spread apart like a normal split, a string of slick to be clearly seen.

A look at your watch. The dinner you attended with the guys was at seven. It’s thirty minutes until eleven. You’re not far from the apartment from where you’re at, and as luck would have it, one of the guys was looking to call his night early. Even better when he’s living in the same apartment complex as you; all you need to figure out is how to convince him to rush back home.

While breaking away from the group, the bro code comes into play again, and apparently his girlfriend sent him nudes while eating earlier. Not exactly sure why he would show you a picture of his naked girl in the first place but hey, great minds think alike.

–

You kinda blame Kazuha for making Yunjin like this at times.

Not your fault however, since the pair of them conveniently share a brain cell together whenever Yunjin stops by your shared apartment with Kazuha to stay over and chill. From what you can recall, these two have been best friends up until middle school; Kazuha went overseas to pursue her passion for ballet while Yunjin was focusing on the performing arts - and in a way, they were still tethered together despite being miles and miles apart across the globe.

(Call it a fine pairing of toothbrush and toothpaste, but the connection you saw what these two had was something to admire.)

“You sure you don’t want a bite?” Kazuha asks, opening up the styrofoam box to reveal a set of six takoyaki pieces. Yunjin sits next to her on her phone, switching between apps in record time from the socials to her emails, a mean look to her face when she looks at the grade from her art project, a perfect score to the narrowing eyes as if she herself couldn’t believe her own work.

“Save one for me,” you answer, getting up from the lounge seat to migrate towards the kitchen, hoping to satisfy your food cravings with a light snack to slowly administer the growing appetite. “Yunjin’s the one who suggested getting takeout in the first place so I think you two should at least have most of it for yourselves.”

“I told you ordering eight was better than having six,” Yunjin scoffs, scraping Kazuha’s shoulder while lowering the plastic bag to pull the other foods that they ordered from their go-to place that was on the outside of campus. “Now, are we gonna eat this together or are you gonna give me another play-by-play with your sex shenanigans for the tenth time.”

You roll your eyes while ripping the wrap of the instant ramen, “Zuha, who was it this time?”

“Uh, none of your business?”

“It should most definitely be my business if I can’t find the fucking cable to my keyboard,” you retort, frowning while Kazuha flips you off with the middle finger. “I already had to scold Yunjin for stealing my pants, bleaching them by accident, and then giving it to Sakura for her fashion project.” Cocking your head over, you see Yunjin set up her phone for the mukbang they’re about to do, the tripod already centered between the two of them on the table and the pair already fixing up their hair a bit to make it presentable. “Please don’t tell me you got that on camera.”

“Bloopers.” Kazuha adds, “I’ll let Sakura know to return your pair of pants later with this clip.”

“Enough talk,” Yunjin says, pulling a takoyaki out and hovering it over her other hand. “Think we can eat this in one bite?”

“Ready to do this?” Kazuha asks.

“Let’s go.” Yunjin answers.

You’re muttering to yourself behind the counter: “The food is still hot, you idiots.”

“I think we’ll be okay,” Kazuha replies, leaning closer to the camera with her piece of takoyaki, “Might be a little dangerous, but we’re gonna do it anyway.” You’re trying to fight the snort in your throat while you’re looking over to see both of them eat it, getting two solid bites into the delicious snack while you’re still watching them.

Kazuha leans back, covering her mouth while Yunjin hollows her cheeks, lips slightly open, breathing out hot air. Both of them move in opposite directions, but Kazuha follows Yunjin’s movement, keeling over to the right side. While that was happening, the table shifted from underneath, moving the camera and causing it to tip over to their right side as well. Soon after, Yunjin’s quick to sit back up and fix the phone to make it stand upright, laughing while Kazuha’s face literally goes beet red from the hot food.

Rolling your eyes, you continue to make your own, paying no attention to the girls in the living room. You hear them arguing over how the takoyaki was still hot when Kazuha claimed that it wasn’t, “I thought you checked that these were already cooled down.”

“And I told myself that it wasn’t going to be that hot still, but it’s that hot!” Yunjin says, mouth full while Kazuha is trying to fan her face.

You’re leaning over again with the steam from the pot rising to your face, “I’ll have that one extra piece for me,” telling Yunjin with a cracked grin, “Thank you very much.”

–

(Kazuha claimed a while back one night, whilst you’re trying to conjure up a preliminary profile with the new phone number sitting in your phone, that there is someone who is equally bad as her. In terms of bad, you’re assuming that in all the ways Kazuha falls under. The appearance only shows half the tale when it comes to Yunjin; until your first date with her at the end of the week, of course.

You’re also making the counterargument that Kazuha didn’t even tell you that she and Yunjin were close friends in the first place, accusing her that the piece of information was ‘need to know’ leading up to the interaction later on with Yunjin in class that day.

“I’m telling you this now,” she says, stealing your onion ring from your fingers before you could even get a bite to it, “She’s a freak just waiting to be let out.”

“You’re serious?” you say at the time, keeping eyes locked with Kazuha with a nursing cup of milk as your nightly beverage. The soft slurp is just audible enough to hear through your ears, “She’s a lot like you in the way that she acts.”

Kazuha bobs her head in agreement, “Trust me. Her and I did a lot of experimenting and research, even though we were like- in our teenage years, but you get the point.”

Then you run a hand to your face, recalling every single characteristic with your fingers while Kazuha grabs another onion ring from the bowl. “Okay, so it’s like this: she’s sweet, has this sort of attitude if she doesn’t get what she wants, needy, doesn’t clean up after themselves especially when it comes to their laundry, and self-absorbed with the help of their friends.”

“Ouch. Who the hell hurt you?” Kazuha tuts, flipping you off with a stray onion ring thrown at you. You’re laughing, but it’s all good vibes and jokes with your roommate.

“You’re right,” she says soon after, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”)

–

All credit to Kazuha, for slightly playing the role of matchmaker. Though, it’s already a difficult task to do in dealing with her around the house - now imagine with two Kazuha’s, figuratively speaking. The only contrast is, Yunjin’s outlook may be similar to Kazuha’s, but she’s entirely different that's way more appealing to you.

She breaks the pattern in your life in a lot of ways you don’t expect.

–

Unhinged.

That could be-

“Let me hear you moan, baby. I need to know how much you like this.”

-one sure way to describe it.

Yunjin’s voice rasps against your ear, while the only thing that’s pooling through your eyes is the carmine shade of hair, while her back is pressed against the door of the stall in the gentlemen’s room. It’s some mixer that Sakura and Kazuha insisted that you two come along for fun; some alcohol is in the system, maybe it’s the heat from the amount of bodies on the dance floor, you don’t really remember how you got to this position - not that it really mattered.

She’s got one of her long legs wrapped around you, a hand firmly grasped to the back of your neck while your is well worked past the elastic of her panties, curling a finger inside her that makes her sing these wondrous hums and whimpers, watching has her half-lidded eyes glisten in the low light hanging above; and those thickly rimmed specs of hers, the glance alone makes you want more of her. It’s incredibly ethereal how she looks when her lids flutter shut, swollen lips half open when you’re edging her out even harder, cheeks flushed while she’s doing this plié motion on her single foot, hoping to fuck herself more with your fingers - sliding in and out in a steady motion for as long as she could hold it.

“Fingers babe,” she breathes, nose wrinkling while you’re massaging her clit with your thumb, sinking all over her weight onto your hand. Her glasses slide off the bridge of her nose slightly, pressing it up before shooting her hands down to the button of your pants, feeling the hard line of your cock against the cloth, fumbling with the button until she successfully takes it apart. “Yes, right there, ugh, god, please, don’t stop..”

“Don’t you know I never will,” you tell her, twisting your face over to get her lips on yours again, attacking her neck while you manage to get her pussy to clench around your fingers more. “You’re a greedy little girl aren’t you? Wanting to get fucked in a place like this.”

“Yes. Yes.” Yunjin nods, compounding the right words while squealing with the drag upwards to her stomach, “I’ll let you do anything to me, please, fuck me right here, I don’t give a shit if somebody walks in, I want them to hear you fucking me with your cock.”

The wistful inhale of breath through your lips is a moment of satisfaction, the second she gets her fingers wrapped around your cock, gently. She likes playing this little game with you, the kind of game to get you in the right mindset to where you’ll drop all sensibilities with the sole intention - the only intention: to have you fucking her like it’s the one purpose you’re all good for with Yunjin. It can go both ways, but more often than not, it’s always her that’s the one to get you over that sheer line of craziness, fueled by the reverberating sounds of her moans bouncing off the walls and words ordering you to put your cock inside her, pull you in to this inescapable black hole of lust that you’ll come back to again and again and again.

“So-” you shut her up with a kiss that she hums in content, “fucking needy.” And when you slip your fingers out of her warm cunt, that should solidify the commitment to finally build on what you’re working towards.

Until Yunjin takes your matters into her own hands.

The moment comes to you much like in a black flash; a blink and you’ll miss it type of deal. One second you’re pinning Yunjin to the door of the stall, the next second she’s pinning you to the door with her hands yanking your pants down, stroking your hard cock that’s already leaking with every pump.

“Didn’t you want me to, shit-” you try to ask, Yunjin’s lips making you not think straight, the intoxicating flavor filling your tastebuds, pulling your bottom lip slightly while shoving you deeper into the door. “I thought you wanted-”

“Shut up and relax,” she says, lowering herself to her knees as you’re getting vivid flashbacks to the exact same thing she did in the custodian’s closet a while back. “Can’t let you have all the fun now, can I?”

It’s funny how Yunjin enticed and waltzed her way into your life, without really selling anything significant until shortly after, to where she would find herself as this pliant puddle of wobbling lips and uneven moans; only to have the whole persona completely shifted to where you’re the one getting thoroughly fucked over, and falling for it every single time.

Never gets old, really.

You’re still trying to process what’s happening, maybe it could be the buzz whirling around your head, as this vibrant hum of the flickering light over you in the men’s bathroom keeps you conscious. When you look at Yunjin’s gorgeous eyes, almost like she’s stargazing into yours, it doesn’t help with the obscene act of her jerking your throbbing cock, lathering it lightly with those delicate flicks of her tongue starting at the base, working her way up while you can feel the beads of sweat start to trickle down from your forehead. She’s basically asking for it: to wrap those plump lips around your cock, use her mouth as the sole bucket for you to spill inside, make you forget about any current worries plaguing your mind.

She’s leaving these scattered chaste kisses across your shaft before pulling away, licking her lips slightly, mewling when she decides to play with you a bit longer, catching one of your balls into her mouth. The whole half of your upper body shifts, almost unsure what to do while her hand glides across your length with the help of her spit coating it. She rests just underneath the tip, puckering up at the sensitive area while your grip on her shoulder gets tighter. It’s the fucking drag, the way she traces her fingerstips and tongue, she’s so fucking evil.

“Those fucking glasses,” you grit, hand ghosting to the right side of her head like you’re trying to prevent some piece of artwork from falling, potentially ruining it. “You’re not thinking about taking them off anytime soon, are ya?”

“This is my favorite pair,” she muses, raising a hand up to your chest while her soft lips slips the head of your cock into her mouth, a prelude for what’s to come. “Wonder how I would look with your cum on them.”

“Fucking. Filthy.”

“Had enough yet?” Yunjin asks, teeny bit tipsy in her voice as she laughs, “Don’t try to think so hard this time.”

All of that tension in your fists suddenly goes away when Yunjin finally dips her head down, deep, deeper, where your hand shifts from her shoulder into her hair, slippery hot and soothing the more she bobs at the gradual pace. Your eyes can’t help but zero their focus on the perfect glide her lips have over your shaft, increasing the suction every pull back and up till the back of your head hits the laminate behind you. It’s a recurring lesson you’re learning each and every single time: the moment Yunjin has your cock in any way, she intends to unravel you with her hands, her lips, her pussy; she’ll get what she wants, all you have to do is just take it.

“Fuck.” Is a word you can manage to say; the only word you’ll keep saying, for that matter.

“Mm?”

Yunjin, is a perfectionist, an artist ready to give a jaw dropping performance; the way that her lips continue to slather up your cock, drawing back just past the tip, hollowing her cheeks slightly that makes you slap your free hand to the door to let her know that you’re teetering towards absolute chaos. She freezes for a second, just to build suspension, before picking up where she left off, taking you back into the unbelievable heat of her mouth, deepening the angle right to the base, until her nose grazes your hips, keeping you in her throat, feeling the first twitches get to you.

And when she looks up with your whole length, the gaze is undeniably impossible to break away from. She’s reading into the shallow breaths leaving your mouth, how your chest does these irregular motions when she ups the sensual pace to something desperate, working you with the added twist of her hand, jerking you while some of her shoulder is exposed from the leather jacket she was wearing. You’ll mark up that collarbone sooner in here or later at home, it’ll happen.

Few minutes pass for what feels like an eternity, she releases your cock from her mouth, returning back to your balls while she strokes you with your free hand, purring at times that you can barely hear due to the loud music right outside the bathroom. “Jen, you look so fucking good like that.”

“Like it when I get your cock all fucking sloppy for me?”

“God-”

She forces your right hand to a bundle of her hair, you follow the natural instinct to make it into a ponytail or bun or at least something to hold onto when she takes your cock back into your mouth. No verbal cue, just the implication is enough to know what she wants and what you like, simple as that.

Just when you think you’ve kept yourself safe from the immeasurable amount of pleasure filling your mind, tensing up your balls and stomach to ensure that you can hold out as long as you could, the eyes and ears can only register her head bobbing back and forth in a consistent rhythm, hypnotized at the sound of those gags she’s making along your shaft.

You’ve got two hands in her hair, hips thrusting while pulling her head back in to meet in the middle. There’s a slight adjustment of tilting her chin up, so that you can shove your cock a little deeper. Thank God that you’ve secluded yourselves away from the crowd, not wanting anyone to see the campus’s ‘it girl’ take your cock so well into her throat. Nobody knows this side of her, except for you, and you’ll keep that to yourself. Here you go, you’re telling her, keep gagging on my cock like this. God, you look so amazing, holy shit, I can’t with your mouth, it feels so damn good.

Thank the stamina you’ve built over time, holding out long enough while Yunjin continues her relentless assault on your cock, inhaling it every chance she gets. She’s got two hands dancing along the soaked shaft, hoping that the heat and friction combined would be the final push to make you bust right here and now. It’s happened before, and she’ll make you cum like this again; all you have to do is just let her.

And so you say:

“-jin, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

Those enhanced eyes with those glasses of hers shoot up in excitement, popping her mouth off the head of your cock, furiously jerking it to no avail, with the only thing left to do is to break you. Your knuckles are probably white from the death grip you’ve got to her hair, but all you’re feeling is the flattened tongue she’s swiping on the underside, right at the tip until the contraction was too much to bear, and you let go.

In most cases like this - that’s how everything goes.

The face she makes is probably one of the most angelic expressions you’ve seen of her, the way her mouth opens in acceptance while her eyelids flutter shut. You let go in sudden pulses that diminish into jittery jolts, every sash of cum shooting out of your slit paints across the scaffold of her glasses, glazing her lens with the sound of content leaving her lips. An obscene image, there’s cum everywhere across her face, on her lips, some of it got to her eye, and in her hair; the sensation of pleasure gets driven out as your shaft moves gently on her face, giving exactly what she wants, to see you ruined.

“Good fucking job, pretty boy. There we go.”

The sigh that leaves your lips is much like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Eyes soon gandering down at the shimmering image of this devil in a daydream or something straight out of your fantasies, darting their tongue out and about with a smug grin spread across their face, with a pair of glasses in their hand with enough messy evidence to conclude that ‘wow, you actually came so much for me’ kind of deal was indeed, wow.

She’s humming along this little victory in her throat when you check her phone for the time, only for it to be snatched from your hands and-

The selfie session is actually salacious.

Yunjin shifts along the bathroom floor, next to your cock, camera angle ready and snapping away at the work that was just done on her. The poses she makes, puckered up lips and angling your delicate cock as the additional prop is just downright insanity from her. And you imagine if school wasn’t really her kind of style, then the other line of profession that you know exactly what would definitely suit her well. She’s a slut in the making, oh wait- she already is one.

“Are you done?” you ask, moving your head around to ensure that there’s blood flow while you have a hand down to help Yunjin up, “I think it’s a good idea to go home now.”

When she finally stands up, she puts back the cum covered glasses on her face, scrunching her nose while some of the evidence on her forehead, cheeks, and chin just stay where it's at; almost like a wax candle after being blown out. That beautiful face is completely yours to ruin, and you’re contemplating on whether she should back out to the club like that.

“We should,” she says, while a stray hand grabs yours, feeling the plane of creamy skin underneath across her waist, slipping underneath her tube top to feel the hard nub of her nipple. Her head lolls a bit with the same glint in her eyes, and it only tells one thing: this girl wants more. “If you want to leave already.”

Something snaps inside you, like a gear clicking in your brain to get it moving again. Legitimately, fuck. She’s got you all wrapped around her long finger, that pretty face that’s just been defiled and fucked upon that most of her mascara is dripping at the sides because of her tears; you’ve filled one hole in her body, what’s wrong with one more?

So you swivel her around, press the front over her body to the door of the stall, strip off that annoying and bulky biker jacket she stole from your closet, pull her top to where all of her lower back could be seen in the dim light. Her hands are quick to slip out of her pants, just enough to where you see the fine curve of her ass, pulling her hips out so that you can get the right position to slide your cock into her. She tiptoes a bit slightly to make the process easier, and she gets you-

“Sir,” she breathes, gasping out at the fufillment, “Your fucking cock-” Her head dips down while your length continues to part her walls. It’s already a good thing that she’s wet, but some of the leftover drool that’s damp around the skin of your shaft, makes everything in her cunt just that wetter. It’s slow, drawn out, and pure delight.

“Your cunt, babe.” You’re gritting out, and you hear the bathroom door swing open to the laugh of a group of guys. The drag back is only met with the harsh drive back in, causing Yunjin to yelp out in pain. The group of guys sound confused at first, but it’s the audible slap of her ass that you make soon after solidifies the hint, and they hush each other to make sure that what they’re hearing is legit.

She whines at the second or third slap while the guys standing outside the stall murmur in confusion, shuffling out of the bathroom while the pitches in her moans pick up along with your pace, grabbing a handful of her hair to pull her head up, angling the curve of her back where you’re sinking deeper.

“God, baby, I can’t-” she gasps out, feeling it all the way down that plush crevice of her pussy. She’s gotten so slick to the point where the glide feels effortless.

“Uh huh,” you mumble, mind already drifting to a plane where you’d never see yourself return to. Yunjin has an outreaching hand backwards to somewhere along the top of your thigh, hoping to grasp with what little brain power she has while getting railed, your grip at her hips - how your fingertips are scraping along the fine skin, the visible red shade across the canvas of her ass when the light flickers for a moment before you’re drowned in darkness. “Just shut up and take it, like the little slut that you are.”

She’s spilling out words and words of nonsense, giving you the limitless praises that you’ll hear again and again, telling how perfect you are, with that fat fucking cock, choking up her cunt in all the places and spots where she knows you’ll hit, the sounds of the slaps fading out from your ears like a soldier experiencing shellshock, penetrating her poor pussy until–

“I can feel you t-throbbing, please-”

Christ, you’re cumming for a second time now. Yunjin’s hushed screech fills your ears while you pull out of her cunt, painting her ass across the slick skin. She’s pulling up the bottom of her leather jacket, hoping that you won’t hit, but you do. These white ribbons you’re spurting across the place will be a sight to behold; the things that this woman does to you, fist still wrapped tight around your cock while you’re seeing stars in the back of your head.

“Jesus shit, Yunjin,” you warble, “fuck, I can’t believe- ugh.” She shelters her face beneath the red curtain of hair, slouching forward while you’re holding her at the hips still, thumb rubbing across the sides while the words coming out of her mouth are still incoherent, still in the utter awe of the defiling act that was committed in this bathroom stall.

(Shit, you’re saying, we forgot about Kazuha and Sakura. What would they think? The look on their faces when they see Yunjin completely soaked in cum, they’ll probably congratulate her, considering the kind of freaks they are.)

Yunjin finally stands up, guiding your hands to the bottom of her waist, twisting her head back so that you can inhale the sweet stench of sex emitting from her body, grinning with no care in the world. It’s unreal how she is, but you’ll chalk up a final thesis down the line.

“I’ll say this again,” she tells you, turning around to let you have a closer look of her face still drenched in your cum, “Love it when you cum so much for me.”

“You’re not serious about walking out of here looking like this.”

“I am.” She projects, dropping her frames a bit slightly so that her eyes can hover above, “This is proof that I’m yours to the world. Now let's get out of here with Kazu and Sakura so that they can know what you just did to me.”

–

Predicting Yunjin’s next move or quirk is practically a dice roll at times.

Most times, it’s pretty easy and straightforward with all of the usual activities and shenanigans around school or at home. She’ll be in the cafe with you, buzzing her lips while you’re sitting across from her editing something for a commission or writing up a paper that will work towards a letter of recommendation if you pick and choose your professors wisely. You’ll look up to see that rich smile, something that will send your heart beating away double time from the first glance. Maybe on the way back home she’ll sneak a candid picture of you doing absolutely nothing, and she’ll adore it because you’re just being yourself.

On other occasions, she’ll come pin you down or bring something up unprompted. All it really just takes is a simple conversation to get it going.

“Hey, you’re done?” she asks, standing in the kitchen one night, whipping up one of your favorite comfort foods that will always be the problem solver: smoked salmon mixed with some vegetables. “Thought that you were never gonna come out of that room alive.”

“Yeah,” you answer, ruffling the back of your head while your feet scrape across the hardwood, “That portfolio was a little bit tough to get started, but it’s almost there. Stomach’s killing me anyway so-”

“Came just at the right time. It’s finished, have a seat.”

There’s something domestic with this style of living you’ve constructed. Wondering, maybe through the little hole in the lock of a door, what it would be like for you and Yunjin to have a place together. With stable incomes and the space wide open enough for literally anything and everything that you and her could imagine together. It’s all there, but it’ll be a matter of time before you cross that bridge.

Yunjin twists around, smitten at the fact that you’re sitting across from her with your head resting on your hand, just watching from afar while your girlfriend is doing one of the most plain acts in cooking. She’s in your hoodie, a bit oversized to where it covers past her hips, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, there’s a soy sauce stain on it where the pocket is - you just wore that yesterday, but it’s fine. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I can?” you answer, stifling a laugh.

She ruffles her messy bun a bit (since she knows that’s your one true weakness), putting the wooden spoon in her hand to her mouth, tipping it along her chin, scanning your expression with narrowing eyes, pulling her bottom lip inward slightly, clearly not satisfied with the vague reason.

“Are you thinking about me naked?” She asks, tilting her head to the left. “I can see you imagaining it right now.”

“No.”

“You are, aren’t you?”

With you saying nothing, the staring doesn’t help and it’s telling her otherwise.

“You’re already imagining it!” She exclaims, pulling the wooden spoon in her hand back, nearly ready to throw it at you. All you give her is the simple shrug with your shoulders, proving her suspicions right, but you’ll be proud in not hiding things from her, especially if it leads to sexual escapades later.

“Go wash your hands, dirty boy.” Yunjin instructs, giving a ‘shooing’ motion with her other hand while you’re standing up from the chair, not saying a word but using your face and arms to dispute her claim, despite being completely right and you’re picturing her not wearing anything beneath your hoodie anyway. “I can’t have you fucking me later if the tank is empty.”

Softly laughing, you give her a pfft underneath the sound while looking away, already twisting your body towards the dark hallway where the bathroom is. “I was thinking about something else,” you tell her, cocking your head to refute her observation, “but I was also picturing you naked without my hoodie.”

“Mhm, okay. Sure.” she says, giggling while you’re walking away defeated, looking at her phone resting on the counter while you make headway to the bathroom. “Don’t spend too much time in the bathroom with your hand, by the way.”

She notices the middle finger you’re giving behind your back, but you’ll listen and honor the request.

–

Some days, she just does things without an explanation. Forget about questioning as to what or why, the glare in her eyes have sunk so deep into yours with this heavy urge to just let Yunjin have her way and show no restraint to what she wants from you.

“No? I’m not really doing anything right now.” She answers, parting your legs while you’re shifting your hips forward to the edge of the cushions, feeling the layer of shorts and boxers get discarded in a few seconds. Kazuha’s on the other end, probably giving a debrief or probable game plan to get with a guy who’ll be fucking her later; it’s one of those weekends again, the usual business.

You pay no attention, scrolling away lifelessly on three different social media apps with the occasional jump to reply to this group chat for one of your classes, seeing the crimson hair hovering right over your crotch while Yunjin takes your cock in her free hand, slowly stroking to full hardness.

Looking over, she locks eyes with you, wearing her favorite pair of specs; the thickly rimmed ones, to be more specific. Those doe eyes magnified ten times while her long fingers work around your growing cock, leaving a slow kiss along the side while she’s listening to Kazuha’s verbal dump on the phone. “Who me? I’m just on the couch, sucking cock. No big deal.”

Just as you’re about to say something, probably a quick ‘no’ to let Kazuha know of the complete opposite on the phone, her tongue swirls at the underside as her mouth seals around the head, pressing a bit across the sensitive area until your hips give up the lightest twitch off the seat.

It’s so, so fucking warm in there.

This is a problem.

Yunjin hums this sort of answer, shimmying her head to take the rest of you into her mouth, simmering your length with a giggle as Kazuha’s muffled voice through the phone, probably rambling on about her recent adventures with Sakura that you don’t know about. You’ll think nothing of it, locking eyes with her while she pulls a bit of her hair over her ear, swirling tongue at a vein while her hand floats across your stomach, then down to your thigh, feeling the light scratch of her nails as she continues to bob her head up and down.

“I’m gonna say something if you just-” you hush while the vice around your cock tenses up your legs and hips, feeling the press of your heels onto the floor while Yunjin muffles herself again. Some of her hair trickles down to the inner side of your thigh, holding onto some of her hair while your mouth is parted open, vacuuming your gut from the inside as your ass is practically off the seat.

This is gonna get entirely fucked over if she doesn’t play nice. “Yunjin, I swear to fuck-”

You’re stroking the crown of her hair, bobbing at a consistent pace now. At this point she’s just listening to Kazuha explain to Sakura now about her troubles with her friends with benefits, free hand that’s not holding the phone now at the base to hold your cock still as she does this party trick of pulling her mouth over her teeth - and the slide of her lips across the soaked surface is so sensitive, and you’re fighting every natural impulse to not ruin this just for your own pleasure.

It’s so subtle, the way her tongue passes through, swirling the stiff line beneath, lips wet and warm across your cock, sliding in every way she pleases; your phone is pretty much off to the side, forget about texting back that group chat for your class.

She pulls back, moaning while there’s a visible line of spit from the tip, “Huh? Oh, I don’t have any plans for tomorrow. But we can go with Chae if she’s free.” She smiles widely, hand skating up the length to keep you pulsing. “Me? I just have this one assignment, but I’ll have him help me when we’re done here.”

“Can I? Uh-”

“Yeah you can remind him, Zuha.” Yunjin glares, licking her bottom lip, kissing the area between your base and balls, tongue flattening and elevating up the side. She can tell that you’re getting agitated, with every passing second of her hot mouth and the addicting feeling of how her lips wrap around you, hoping to let her push you over the edge. “Alright, have fun with your dick appointment, girl. I’ll see you soon. ‘Kay, bye.”

There could be a vein or two popping out of your brain and neck, and Yunjin flashes this mischievous smile, hand sliding on the upper half of your cock while her mouth nurses the base, beautiful hazel eyes crossing as one of your feet slip out from under the coffee table, head hitting the cushions while this girl between your legs take full control of the lower half of your body. A hum leaves your throat, slurring, Yeah, fuck. That’s all you’re able to say, but it’s fine. Relax, Yunjin will take good care of you, always does.

Once she stands up a bit, twisting your cock to ensure that it’s still ready for what’s next, you don’t even remember her being in just her panties. The blank canvas of holy skin, the even divide of how her waist forms to her hips, long legs moving one over the other, and that ass is literally a treasure from another planet. “You’re the absolute worst,” you tell her, hand moving to touch the rare artifact that is her body; so perfect and ready for you to absolutely fuck and ruin. “I’ll remember that for later.”

Yunjin swings her ass, pulling her lacy black panties to the side, one hand to your the top of your leg while the other is still wrapped with your cock, teasing the head with her glistening lips, dipping down to get that first rush of new heat; you’re groaning at this point, as her face hides but you can imagine the satisfied expression when she inserts you in.

“Baby,” she mutters, keeping herself sliding down the fullness of you, letting every edge of your thick cock press against her walls - the feeling itself is too much to handle. Her ass crashes down, a measured test from the first move. You’ll make a rein with anything that’s within reach. The ass is one option, the crease where her hips and legs meet; her tits also, and let's not forget about that waist.

You’re pulsing again. Her heat choking your cock is molten, you can hear the gasps in her breath, the sighs of delight from your own, filling her cunt like it's the only thing needed as of right now.

“I’m so gonna get you back,” you growl, “by filling up your sopping little cunt with my-”

The movements still for a bit, but the grind she does when she bottoms up your length at the hilt; you could’ve came right then and there, though you did everything in your power not to - not yet.

She trembles for a second, muttering some nonsense that will have no attention towards while her pussy lips keep you focused on the grip - how it slides up and down. She stops, only to rise with her knees while giving the slightest look back. Fucking insane.

“Please,” she begs, “I’ll let you do anything to have you cum inside me.”

–

Sometimes, Kazuha likes the sudden change of patterns with the things you do with Yunjin.

Consider it to be a full circle moment to from watching her bring her fuck buddies over to the place, now it’s her watching you have your fun that was bound to happen sooner or later. She always brings that up once in a while, just to tease you. That’s the partial point of the social construct of college: to get with people and see if things work or not. If they do, great; and if they don’t, well that’s just part of the fun anyway.

“Really?” Kazuha asks, amused at the sight taking place in front of her: Yunjin splayed across the kitchen countertop, “You two really have no shame.” She says, watching you lick your heart away over the skin of her naked body as Yunjin rakes her fingers into your hair, lets out a shaggy exhale when your lips slide up from her chest back up to her neck.

You look up, clearly fed with what the observation was brought up now.

“What can he say,” Yunjin groans out, caressing the back of your head when you’re nestled right underneath her jaw, “Lover boy here got a little hungry after our study session.” She giggles when you hit her favorite spot right at the pulse point, hands trailing underneath her back when she arches while her arms hook your back to keep the contact going.

You pay no care to Kazuha, keeping your priority on Yunjin, who’s squirming at every touch and lick you’re giving to every discovered part across her body. “Can’t seem to get enough of me.”

“Whipped.” Kazuha laughs, walking behind you to the fridge, grabbing two bottles of water to take back to her room. “I was wondering whose shirt it was sitting in the middle of the hallway.” She looks over your shoulder, seeing her friend completely marked all over; up and down, neck and chest tattered with hickeys and bite marks, legs spread apart where your hips sit in between. “Are you coming tonight?”

“To where?” You ask, letting a stray hand to her tit while you’re looking over to give Kazuha the proper attention. “I thought you didn’t have plans tonight.”

“I didn’t,” Kazuha says, “Until Sakura finally let me have a go with her on and off fling she’s been seeing for the past two weeks. She showed him a picture of me and was like, automatically into me. Now I’m gonna close the deal with him.”

“Are you now?” Yunjin asks, on an elbow while your stray hand trails down to her clit, lightly massaging it to keep her occupied. She’s tugging on your shirt, keeping a close eye to your fingers dancing along her leaking slit, sighing prettily. It didn’t take that long for her to get comfortable with Kazuha being in the house while you’re fucking her on any given time of the day, and the idea of privacy was thrown out the window long before that.

“So that explains the fake ID sitting on the coffee table,” you tell her, feeling Yunjin’s hands on the elastic of your sweats, unveiling your cock when you take the hint and assist. “But don’t you have your own to use? Or did you lose it?”

Kazuha’s extended period of silence says everything that you need to know about her situation. And the fact that it had Chaewon’s picture on the card, proves the slightest concern that’s rumbling through her mind right now.

“Kazuha’s still a good girl at heart.” Yunjin observes, shuffling to the edge of the countertop while you’re tugging along the length, lightly tapping her core as the purrs start to fill up the kitchen. “You’ll be fine, we’ll move back to the room before Sakura comes to get you. Promise.” Her head hits the marble when you slip inside into her cunt, hooking onto the top of her thighs as the irregular breaths coming out of her start to stabilize. You haven’t even sunk all the way in yet, sliding until you’re parting her soaked lips, making her feel full.

“I think you should go to Kura’s.” You add, looking up while composing yourself in Yunjin’s tight pussy. “Would be better for her to see that you’re ready at her place rather than the other way around, I think.” The slick should be the only thing you’re worried about now, her hand grasping onto your wrist when you drag out the first few times, gradually picking up the pace while the lovely glow on your girlfriend’s face starts to set in. “Just try to match the same hairstyle like Chae’s in the picture, and you’ll be fine.”

Kazuha nods, pursing her lips while she starts to step away. “As much as I love to sit here and watch, I’ll treat myself to my own cock in about a few hours.” She walks away while you’re nicking your head and Yunjin’s waving a loose hand goodbye as Kazuha makes her way back to the room, relaying your focus to the girl at your hips getting slammed with every hit your cock makes into her sweet spot.

“Now that she’s gone, where was I?” you say sweetly, shifting your hands upward to her hips, admiring those pretty pussy lips, clamping up her cunt.

Yunjin loves how wrecked you get her, it’s an essential thing that will keep her going, the way she’s sighing out all of the praises and sounds, “G-God, please. Fuck me more.”

You don’t even have to think twice about it. Because that’s the typical Huh Yunjin style she proses. It comes in a cycle, going on and on and on for as long as you could recall, unsure how things fell to the way that it did, but you’ll be there to listen to everything that there is to hear coming both from and out of her lips.

–

(The funny thing about patterns, is the sense of normalcy at how things are around the apartment.

You don’t even hear the front door open since you’re heavily focused on Yunjin’s thick ass bouncing back on your cock, giving yourself time to breathe while she’s doing all the work for the next few moments. Kazuha peers through the crack of the open door leading into the room, a lone pair of eyes finally catching the picture of you two on the bed; there’s her forehead, slipping back out into the hallway in a string of laughs.

A sole assumption that Sakura’s skill for matchmaking helped Kazuha’s love life get it in the right direction.)

–

You’re not entirely sure how things flowed this way.

Though, it’s been really easy to get swept up in all of the different responsibilities falling onto your plate as the weeks continue to pass. Assignments get turned in on time, some parties are on the calendar every few weekends, and the days are winding down until you’ve got that degree in your hand. Only a matter of time before the real world’s calling, but that bridge will come when you get to it.

“What's the measured response?” Yunjin asks one day, tilting her head at an angle while watching something on her iPad, “I know the whole premise of this show but, I’m literally lost at what the final movie’s overall theme is.”

She’s got her feet up on the seat, you on the opposite end zoning out after she made you cum down her throat in a corner hidden away from everyone else at the library, not trying to let the sounds of her soft moans fill your ears as she’s slurping your cock’s life away in broad daylight (technically working hours, but you get the point.)

“I mean, the movie itself is-”

“Amazingly depressing, unsettling, downright traumatic. I think I might just cry.” Yunjin answers, leaning forward as you’re wrapping up a page of some Murakami book that Sakura handed to you for an early graduation gift. “Is that book also depressing to read too? I know Kkura said that she has a couple at her place.”

You look at the front cover. Norwegian Wood was pretty much a blind read, and Sakura herself didn’t really tell you what the whole story was about to begin with. So far, it’s been intriguing with every ten pages or so, aside from the fact the love interest has got some issues by a third of the way in? Maybe halfway? You’re flipping pages whenever you can because it’s a good way to pass time.

Yunjin leans a little more across the table, studying your features, the way that your eyes move with every passing word in the passage, pursing her lips with every small nick of your head when there’s something interesting to note or probably worth annotating later. She thinks that you’re being intrigued, when in reality, you’ve just discovered another thing about the main love interest that’s running the ‘oh, what the fuck?’ in your mind just now.

A look up slightly above the pages, and she’s sitting there. From her eyes alone they’re staring at you in admiration.

It’s still impossible to tell what this woman wants from you sometimes.

“What?” you ask, softly giggling when she’s giving this quizzical look with her knuckles resting under her chin. “I thought you said you needed to study?”

“I did,” she shrugs. “I’ve just come to the probable conclusion that you’re an interesting human being.”

“Well what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Yunjin bobs her head confidently. “You’re a smart guy.” An outreached hand over yours to close the book, her eyes flick back to you again while you’re trying to observe her body language, the way her glances exchange from seeing you to some passerby walking in the library. “I’m sure you’re still thinking about earlier.”

Your jaw drops slightly, repulsed at the sly wink that she’s giving you. There’s no deniability coming from you, she’s just pulling the rope at every urge within the bones in your body to see what she demands. “And what if I am?”

She grins, finger between her teeth, “What do you say we get out of here then?”

You’ll follow her back to the apartment in a heartbeat.

–

A quote is said at the end of a lecture one day from your finance professor: “This too, shall pass.” The interpretation alone could be applied to a wide variety of things throughout a busy schedule. It could be passed as advice, a lesson, a reminder; or at least a simple mantra to go by once you’ve reached the crossroads from one turn of the page to the next.

Some of the remaining morning classes get skipped.

Some of the study sessions leading up to finals get cut short.

Every passing day until the eventual break has been met with a metric of unpredictability that you still can’t quite fathom about. That’s the beauty of what life has to offer, actually - to break the solid cycle of that routine that’s basically second nature up until now, do stuff that’s worth the fun without worrying about what’s to follow after. You’re always on the receiving end of this, getting pulled by Kazuha or Sakura or Chaewon or literally anyone that’s willing to peer pressure you into doing the stupid shit that they always get themselves into.

At the end of every probable argument, Yunjin always gets the final say.

Doesn’t matter if you’re fighting the sounds rumbling out of your chest, or the endless streams of begging please keep fucking me coming out of her. What keeps you in is the way she rolls her hips, slowing the movement for a second when she’s reaching over to the nightstand to grab her phone, answering Hanni’s call as she has a hand to your mouth to keep quiet. The drag alone is an overload for your brain, falling off the edge till you’ve got your load fucked deep enough into her pussy and get several more after because she wants it.

She’s got the phone between her shoulder and ear, “yeah, got it. Okay, awesome. I’ll see you soon, yeah, mhm, we’ll be there, I’ll tell him. Yes, yes, yes. Uh huh, bye.”

God, and when she pulls herself up to a kneeling position over you, looking below at how well your cock fills her. It’s making you want to do all of the things she knows you’ll do to her. Put her in her place, have her screaming until the neighbors next door come over to complain for the hundredth time, and for the love of god, just keep her hips there so that you can-

“Make a mess of my pussy baby. I want to feel it so deep inside me.”

This side of her…man. It’ll happen now, and it will pass. But it will most definitely come back again soon.

The weeks after blow by like a bullet train, and before you know it, it’s grad season.

It’s a few days before everyone in your cohort gets the sought out reward of walking across that stage and pulling that tassel from the left over to the right. You’re at a party hosted by one of Sakura’s friends, taking it easy in one of the seating areas in the backyard with the overhanging lights, occasionally fighting off the bugs that come every now and then. Consider this to be a tune into one of those many conversations:

“So what are we thinking?” You’re looking down to see Yunjin lounging, head on your lap as her lanky legs are taking the remaining space at the left side of the couch. “You still haven’t told me about your new interest in art recently.”

She looks up to your hand massaging her head before returning eye contact with you, staring, contemplating before giving an answer. “I told you. I like the whole dreamy, pastel, impressionist vibe from certain works.”

“So like Van Gogh?”

“Kinda. I’m more into Sorolla and Monet.” Yunjin answers, voice lighting up. “Now that I think about it, a trip to France would add years to my life.”

You nod in agreement, but your attention gets diverted to the beer pong table beneath the awning, watching as Kazuha and Sakura win their game with their new boyfriend. Just by looking at them, it’s pretty odd to see how it’s working, but you’ll give props to the effort they’re putting in.

Yunjin then sits up next to you, stretching her limbs, yawning a bit with a pout at the end. Her hair shuffles down her shoulder, flashing her face towards you, bright smile and squinting and eyes flickering. She’s doing that thing again: trying to assess what’s going through your thoughts right now, hoping to pick apart your brain bit by bit since she’ll manage.

“What,” you ask her, head falling horizontally, “is there something on my face?”

“I guess you’re on the edge,” she tells you, shifting her body closer to yours, examining your appearance with a move of your hair to the side, tracing a finger tip along the lines of your face; to the cheekbones, then the jaw, dusting off a stray leaf on your collarbone before cocking her head back in questioning, “Relax, I’m just trying to figure out what’s really on your mind.”

(Consider it to be Yunjin’s signature idiosyncrasy. She’s good at reading faces and eyes, connecting the dots of what one’s true thoughts are. It falls into a certain structure, the way that you answer her questions, how your body reacts to hers, the key habits that falter when she’s getting warmer to something. You envy how good she is at reading between the lines, wishing that she’d be anything else but that.)

Though, two can play at her game. “I think you know what’s on my mind.”

Her eyes glisten off of the floating lights from above, fading laughs in the background like there’s this bubble encapsulating you two. She’s been in this scenario so many times before, and from the look in your eyes, it leads to one thing and really one thing only.

She grins, pulling her bottom lip inward with a twirling finger to the end of her hair, “So. You wanna like, get out of here?”

#le sserafim smut #kpop smut #male reader #yunjin smut #huh yunjin #kpop fanfic #le sserafim yunjin

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cursedcola · 1 month ago

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Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia (Here) | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: I'm part of the 'everyone underestimates Kalim Al Asim , the layers of his character and upbringing' club. Sweet does not equal being a dum dum my dudes.

Habits You Steal:

Theatrics (Inherited): Kalim talks with more than his mouth. There's body language. Watch out when this guy gets excited because he might knock over a lamp amidst a rant. Hands are flying with each embellishment. He's pacing. Jumping. Energy is seemingly endless with this one. When Kalim laughs, he does so with his entire body without reservation. Head flying back, grin wide, shoulder shaking, etc. Not that he can't replace what gets broken but - y'know. Be careful else you might get bitch slapped on accident. Which normally wouldn't hurt too much but Kalim's decked out in gold. The last thing you want is a ring imprint on your left cheek because Kalim got too excited after a card game. On that note - someone get Jamil some aspirin because that excitement is infectious. You can be the most stone-hearted edge-lord on the face of Twisted Wonderland, but eventually his infectious sunshine attitude takes hold.

"A-Ah! It's okay! We can replace the lamp, so don't worry. Are you hurt? No, no. It's really aright. I'm fine, see? You missed me - can I see your hands for a second? OIII! Can someone please bring a med-kit! Thank you!" <- Jamil's already grabbing the broom before you can say sorry. This is the last time he lets you sit anywhere near fragile objects during a game of charades - or any game. Kalim was bad enough...but at least with him fretting over the tiny cut on your palm, Jamil could clean the mess in peace. At least until you offer to pay for the lamp. Kalim's got enough tact to lie about the price, and everyone's thankful. No one wants to see the Ramshackle Prefect have a heart attack for shattering a real crystal lamp. 'cause then Kalim will cry too and it'll just be dominos from there.

Personal Space (Inherited): Kalim tears away any sense of dignity, self-preservation, and privacy that might exist. In a good way, of course. It's not that Kalim is an open person. Quite the contrary. He needs to keep a calculated distance between himself and others due to his position as an Asim. Regardless of his happy exterior, never forget that Kalim is far from an airhead. Kindness doesn't equate connection - as much as Kalim would love for everyone to be his friend. Yet for those who are in that trusted circle? He treats them like an extension of the self. His lack of shame bleeds into your own perception.

Training and Resistance (Inherited and Developed): Kalim hates that you need to do this. He rarely 'hates' anything, but he despises that you need to worry about being poisoned. What’s worse is that you refuse to have a tester, or a guard, or anything of the sort. It all started with discussing the future with Jamil, who logically brought up the complications that come with Kalim taking a partner. You couldn’t be shadowed, were in a difficult position with the headmaster, and it would only become difficult once the duo moves back to the scalding sands. Even more once you join them (as NRC is merely teaming with prideful youths, while the Scalding Sands is a free for all).

Point summary? You need to build resistance to drugs and learn what to do in a hostage situation. The former is handled by Professor Crewel, and the process was explained in excruciating detail. Jamil, who’s undergone training, was unphased but Kalim desperately wanted you to back out. Yet it would mean needing a guard - which would be hard to arrange - and so…yeah. Many weekends in the nurse’s office. You also have to complete the hostage drills all Asims and their spouses are put through. How to escape bondage, how to last an interrogation, how to navigate without magic (which you could, duh, so basically without a map when stranded), negotiate, etc.

"Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want to do? I can still hire a body guard - there are many options available back home! You can spend our next vacation at the main villa and meet with them. We can - oh. y-you're sure?... alright. If this is what you want then I'll be there through every step. Just remember to ask if you need anything. I'll come running, no matter what."

Charisma (Inherited): Everyone underestimates just how dangerous Kalim is. Seriously. Nothing is more risky in a school like Night Raven College than dropping your guard. It can cost you your life - or at the very least leave you indebted to someone you do not want having dirt over your head (*cough*ACertianCephalopod*cough*)The gossip grapevine is a menace. Everyone has their pride. Everyone has their secrets. Everyone holds each other at arm’s length, even if you’re cordial or friendly. Everyone except Kalim, who has this innate ability to pry the most dirty secrets out of you simply through his nonchalant attitude. Nothing drops another’s guard quicker than a sense of security and superiority. People often mistake his genuine heart for nativity. They fail to recognize that it’s a choice, and deep down he is aware that the Al Asim name places him high above the people he sees as friends.

"Hm? Isn't that the alchemic lab on potionomics meant for second years? You're so smart! I didn't get to do that lab until just a few months ago! - it's not yours? Then why are you working on it?" <- game. set. match. You think he doesn't know what your handwriting looks like? He saw you lingering outside Crewel's classroom earlier and wanted to know why. Saw an opening. Took it. Is happy you’re helping out one of your other friends, but just had to make sure no one was bullying you into doing their work.

Since he truly believes that despite this gap, friendships can transcend - his ability to get information is uncanny. A power he can wield intentionally if need be, in getting you to name drop any person or problem posed. It’s a great quality to have! This way he can help and support you :) Why is this an inherited trait, you might be asking? Because as the next head of Al Asim, Kalim’s been studying how to do business since he was young. He’s going to teach you. Pray tell what is born once the Ramshackle Beast Tamer learns the ways of Scarabia’s master of charisma and resident sunshine child?…Night Raven’s downfall. Power couple. Dead serious right now.

Jewelry (Developed): Worth your weight in gold takes a new meaning. This isn’t in reference to being spoiled, mind you. This is about status and the meaning behind the jewels Kalim is imparting. The cultural significance. Considering that you’re not from twisted wonderland, you technically are a blank slate to all countries. Who better to learn from than someone who’s spent his childhood studying to become an expert in international trade? Kalim has enough tact to bite his tongue about the deep meaning behind the gifts. You may not understand just yet, but his excitement can’t be contained. Each bangle and piece from the family treasury has a small story. While he has no problem using his wealth to help people who need it, there’s a joy that comes from decorating his treasure’ in treasure. Y’know?

"Do you like it? This necklace was my mother's at our age. My father gifted it to her during a business trip to the Queendom of Roses. Ah - you can have it! Really! She has many others, and when I told her about you this was what she chose to have sent over. It's already yours! You can wear it to the next banquet, please?" <- Being the next head of House Asim, Kalim can't be with just anyone. Yet he seemed so happy in his letters, and Jamil vouched on your behalf - so this is your time to shine. Also, sending the necklace back would be like slighting his family's good will. You quite literally need to accept it.

Music (Inherited): Can you play an instrument? Sing? It starts out as wanting to be near him more - so you join the pop music club. Kalim, Cater, and Lilia are very convincing. So they push you to pick up something. Anything. It doesn't matter what, so long as you have fun with them. Even in the earliest stages where the notes come grated and your friends (Grim) make fun - Kalim is supportive without fault. His encouragement leads to proficiency and an appreciation for music. He'd love if you sing with him. Even if it's just a lullaby - no, especially so.

Habits He Steals:

Naming inanimate objects (Inherited): Your effort at making Kalim more money-conscious. The decite of sentimental attachment, if you will. It’s honestly a risky move to make considering the sheer amount of things that he owns, so naming everything is off the table. Yet it’s the silly things. Like seeing a face in the paintwork on one of his tapestries, and then deciding to dub it Artie. Oh no, Kalim we don’t need to get new artwork for the bathroom! What about Artie? It’s already pretty enough so lets just leave him there. No - no, that ring’s super pretty but the matching set from our anniversary is enough. We wouldn’t want Garnet and Pearl to think we were replacing them, right?

"I think Vinnie would work best on display, don't you? Purple and yellow are sure to catch people's attention from far away! Or maybe should we hang up Paolo? There are so many tapestries in Scarabia’s vault, I feel guilty only putting one up on display at our festival stall. Do you think they’d let us hang more?”<- It works. Kalim defiantly thinks twice. He's a bit like a kid refusing to give up their action figures after watching Toy Story, ya feel me?

Cooking (Inherited): Kalim is learning how to cook for himself as one step to being more self-sufficient. He only eats food that Jamil prepares, but with Viper’s seal of approval you’ve earned a pass. Essentially anything you both make with pre-approved ingredients is fair game. You pick a recipe every week, give Jamil the grocery list, and he makes sure to have the stuff in the dorm. Jamil is only okay with this so long as you supervise. Teaching Kalim is on your shoulders - and in all honesty? It’s an amazing bonding experience. Jamil can rest easy for a few hours and Kalim isn’t being thrown straight into the deep end. Obviously it’s only a small reprieve, and temporary since back at the Scalding Sands there are regulations in place. Kalim loves wearing matching aprons, humming little tunes while reading recipe books, watching cooking videos, learning about all the nutritional benefits in food, and really gets an appreciation after seeing how much work goes into his favorite dishes. There’s also that spark of joy when you sit down to eat, and it’s somehow one-hundred times better than eating with his family back home. Not that Kailm doesn’t love his siblings, but family really takes a new meaning when you see it coming together right before your eyes.

"Mph th-ish is sho gud! - how do you like it? Should we invite our friends to try some? It tastes almost like Jamil's! I bet if we keep at it, then we can cook up a banquet all on our own. That'll surely put everyone in a good mood!"

Skinship (Developed): Kalim is the type to initiate touch. Not receive it. If you look at his interactions with the others, he’s always the one throwing himself at them or being a vibrant glow-stick. Very few people give that back - and in truth? Like, honest to Seven truth? Kalim’s got no problem with it. Many people have bad intentions. Not everyone wants to be his friend, and that’s fine. They come to him looking to get in his good graces. It’s unnecessary…he’ll happily help without them twisting his feelings. All they need to do is ask. Do you know how easy it is for someone to prick him with a drugged needle? He’s not comfortable with physical contact that he does not initiate, unless it’s from someone he trusts. Like Jamil, Silver, Cater, his siblings, etc. Even they have a limit (which he’s confident will never be crossed, since again, Kalim is almost always the initiator). This list is subject to change…what, you think a family of 30+ kids can exist without animosity? He dreads the day he has to think of one of his little siblings becoming untrustworthy.

Anyways. Trust is a choice for Kalim. His happiness and extroverted optimism is all a choice. Sometimes on an unconscious level (*cough* his awareness of the divide between himself and Jamil, yet pushing the knowledge down until it inevitably hurt them both *cough*). So imagine reaching the point where he trusts you. It could be something small, like the first time you hug him from behind or lace your fingers together. Intimate. Not like Cater’s half sling over the shoulder, not like his little siblings hanging on his legs, or Jamil pushing him ahead while they walk. When he’s not initiating, and Kalim might hesitate for a moment. Hard to picture, I know, but by letting it be he’s choosing to trust you wholeheartedly. All in the span of like 5 seconds, and he might not even realize it until later on. Those of us who shine the brightest, usually have walls that are hard to see. Just some food for thought.

"Really? Really, really?? Really, really really??? Really - Ah! Sorry, I just can't believe it! There's so much I still don't know about them...but they're paying attention to me, huh? That's it! I need to work harder to be a worthy boyfriend! Starting right now, I'll become a better man!" <- Kalim. Sweetie. No. You're already the brightest boy. Your dormmates only brought the prefect's changes up to make you happy! I mean - mission successful? The goal was to motivate him and they technically succeeded. Just not for studying. He's 100% fired up with enough energy to run laps around the dorm now. He doesn't know what to do first, should he get Cater to help make you a playlist? Or have some flowers sent over? Would you prefer red roses or a mix of violets with chrysanthemums. Wait. Grim's 'technically' a cat, right? He should make sure not to send anything harmful to kitties. Maybe some tuna for him with chocolates for you? But this gift should be something you can keep. Ohhhh he is vibrating from excitement. He needs to show how much he loves you. Your attention and care truly means the world to him.

Habits You Steal:

Bug Spray (Developed): Jamil can and will throw you under the bus when faced with insects. Big hit to his pride, not his best moments, but he is NOT dealing with the absolute infestation at Ramshackle. You are spraying that place with heavy duty RAID if you want him over longer than ten seconds. If he so much as catches a GLIMPSE of a roach - nah. Just nah. He will shove that dustpan in your hands and send you to war. Don’t call him until it’s dead, the carcass has been disposed of, and you’ve wiped down. Grim’s a cat. Teach his ass to hunt. He needs to pay rent. You think he’s letting the flame-ball follow to the Scalding Sands after NRC? Jamil wants him on hinting duty for scarabs or else it’s time to prep hobo box.

“Burn it….Did you not hear me? I said. Burn. It. Better yet? Burn this whole damn building!” <-First night he decides to let Kalim handle Scarabia and humor you with a sleepover - and a giant spider decided to invade the shower. We’re talking big spider, maybe pregnant. Please keep in mind that during the VDC prep, Vil had Ramshackle deep cleaned. So the worst Jamil saw was a few ants. Now, the science club does meet in the Ramshackle garden often since you’ve cleaned it up, and Trey may grow plants that make the place insect central. Jamil was unaware of this. The gut wrenching scream that echoed through every room in the house. You’d think one of the ghosts pulled a cruel prank - but no. You didn’t even get a moment to investigate. The bathroom door flew open, Jamil running out still wet and drenching his pajamas. The death glare and spew of curses was the most genuine you’d ever seen him. Well, it could have been appreciated if not directed at you. Fix it or he will never set foot in this place ever again.

Spice Tolerance (Inherited): Not much to say here. He likes his food spicy. Sure, Jamil isn’t great with his words so his main love-language is bringing over tubbaware filled with food, and he does cater to your preferences more often than not. Except you undoubtedly will be eating what himself and Kalim eat most days. Which is packed with flavor. Grim isn’t complaining, food’s food. You? It’s funny to take a chomp out of ghost pepper like it’s a roma tomato, only for Ace to try and then start wheezing. Work them tastebuds, ya scrawny magic man. Heh.

"Can't handle the heat? Curry's a versatile dish. I could make something mild next time...you still want it? Why? Just because it's my favorite, doesn't mean you have to like it. Still not going to give it back? Alright. Lets see you clean that plate then." <- Flattered that you want to experience his favorite foods prepared to his tastes. For the record - Jamil likes it spicy spicy. Hotter than fiery vindaloo. Its an acquired taste and he really can alter the recipe if its too much. Won't unless you ask, because it's funny and oddly romantic seeing you sweat just trying to make him happy (Will hit the breaks in if you are getting sick from it. Does not play around).

Braids (Inherited): Paired with Jamil’s developed trait. Braids or hair beads - take your pick. Maybe both? Or a headscarf. His little sister - Najima, do you remember her? She’s the first Viper you get to spend time with during a trip to the Scalding Sands and gifts you either some hair beads or a headscarf as her unspoken blessing. Nothing fancy, and Jamil forced the coin in her hand for it, but she did take you through the markets while he was busy tending to other needs. It’s honestly really sweet, and Jamil will braid the beads or scarf in one of your side pieces of hair every morning (or wrap the scarf around your head. Not fancy like Kalim’s but still a knot he ‘insists’ will look better if he does it since you’re inexperienced. He could teach you. He won’t.)

Silence (Inherited): Shit just does not phase you anymore. Ever heard of the inability to keep calm until there's someone more panicked nearby? Jamil embodies this, being surrounded by emotive people all the time, and his perpetual state of indifference physically does not allow you to feel unsettled. If Jamil isn't bothered, then neither are you. It's that simple. Resting bitch face is contagious. Jamil's ability to handle Kalim comes in handy for raising Grim. You can now ignore his baby face and daily begging for premium tuna. Little kitty needs to expand his arsenal of tricks, because your will is stone.

"Bad day? Grab a cup. The dorm's usually quiet for the next hour. I'll be there in a moment." <- Queen never cry. If anything actually does phase either one of you, it normally ends the same way. Plopped on the floor of his bedroom, sipping hot tea and staring at the wall in comfortable silence while stewing in mutual suffering. Eventually you give him one of those starry sky projectors, and y'all ill stare at that instead. If it's a problem that has a tangible solution then it gets solved. Easy. This is for the 'yeah, life sucks' moments where all you can do is let it be before getting back up again. At least you have each other.

Habits He Steals:

Braids (Developed): Jamil can easily do his own hair. A flick of the wrist and it magically braids itself. Ebony locks carry memories of pain, growth - and change. Small change. Yet change nonetheless, which seemed impossible years ago. There’s something very intimate that comes with fixing another person’s hair. You’re not proficient enough to handle his cornrows (or are you? To his standard? As fast as magic?) but Jamil’s fine with changing his hair style to a simple triple braid, or a braid-band using the framing pieces that can crown around his head. So long as you do it for him every morning.

Fix-It-Felix (Developed): You know that one type of dad? The one who visits your home and looks for imperfections. He comes over, puts fresh produce in the fridge, mends the nail holes in the wall and fixes that one loose board on the steps that you made a habit to avoid. Barely says two words during his visit but seemingly solves half the problems you were procrastinating? This is Jamil. 100% Jamil when he comes to Ramshackle. He needs to make himself useful. And to scold someone. Grim more often than not, but you’re not safe. He really goes ‘bitch you live like this?’ at least once a week. Then proceeds to take preventative measures like a textbook tsundere.

“I put tangerines in the fridge since winter is coming. You need to be getting enough vitamin c and - where’s Grim? Don’t let him eat them all and make sure he knows not to light the fireplace tonight. There’s some cleaner on the bricks that needs to sit for a few hours…you know what? I’ll go with you to get him. Grab your heavy coat, it looks ready to rain.”

Dancing (Developed): Jamil participates in solo-dance during his downtime. It’s not like he had a partner to do duos with. Jamil also was not interesting in cozying up to a stranger just to learn a dance he would rarely have a moment to indulge in. Kalim’s the one who mentioned this in passing to you. His intentions were pure, of course. Just as they always are. He signed you both up for a ballroom dance class as a present for officially becoming a couple! Jamil finally had a partner and time to try, so why wait?! The vice in question wanted to deny since (1) who has time for that, (2) it was off campus, would take three hours out of every weekend for a month and (3) The chance of embarrassing himself was higher than he would like. Yet Kalim is smarter than most think, and purposefully handed the gift to you. Not Jamil. Along with the excited embellishment that Jamil could now do this ‘long desired’ class that really wasn’t high on his radar.

"If it makes you happy...then I don't mind. Just try to avoid stepping on my toes. Otherwise I'll demand compensation. What do I want? Wouldn't you like to know, prefect." <- Five seconds in and he yields. You weren't going to let him out of it - no matter what excuse Jamil came up with. He'll put up with it and get back at Kalim later. The chance to spend time with you for that long is rare, and Jamil isn't the type to squander opportunities. No matter his personal feelings on the 'gift' in question.

Except Jamil finds the entire experience pleasant and hates that it’s all thanks to Kalim. Dancing with you is entirely different than dancing alone. It’s clumsy, new, and honestly tiring since he needs to lead. Especially in anything fast pace like a quickstep or to swing. It’s also three hours out of the week that Jamil isn’t maintaining his composure. Just you, him, and the instructor since Kalim splurged on private lessons. It’s liberating and Jamil wants to keep with it far beyond after the class ends. Even if it’s just slow-dancing in the common room to one of those vintage records stowed at Ramshackle. Seven, let him have this.

‘We’ instead of ‘Me’ (Inherited AND Developed): Automatically assumes that any invites are for you too. Jamil is used to thinking this way. Except the ‘we’ applied to Kalim, with Jamil as a plus one. Jamil did not want to be part of that ‘we’. Hence why he would only refer to Kalim when laying plans out. ‘Kalim has dance lessons at six, then dinner at seven, then study until 10 and then bed. Tomorrow, Kalim’s going to a banquet head by the treasure’s family and then returning to campus.’ The unspoken truth being that Jamil’s schedule matched. He followed, but was never on board with being Kalim’s ‘we’. He has always been a ‘me’ and made an active effort to preserve all his ‘me’ moments. For someone so self-aware…Jamil isn’t sure when he began to view you as his ‘we’. Only that when you auto-included him in everything…it was less strenuous than with Kalim. Far less. Easy to adapt. In the past, Jamil believed a partnership to be another chain. Perhaps being a ‘we’ was never supposed to hurt.

“Thanks for the invitation, but we’re staying in tonight…. No, not Kalim. The Prefect. What? I’m not speaking for them. If my word’s not good enough, just go ask the prefect yourself.” <- Other people might look at him and think he’s treating you like Kalim. Oh, how wrong they are.

Texting (Inherited): Jamil’s not used to someone keeping tabs on him. You’re going to see him within the hour, why does he need to call before going to wake up Kalim? Why do you need a text that he’s back in his dorm before you’re able to sleep? Why do you show up in Scarabia at one in the morning, throwing rocks at his window, if he forgets? (Jamil never forgets. He just had to reign in some rowdy first years and couldn’t catch a break. It was on his mind. Really.) It’s not the worst demand. A five minute call while he’s prepping breakfast and a few messages to know he’s going to rest are a small price to pay. Turns out a little rundown of his day before bed makes sleeping a ‘little’ bit easier. Huh.

“I don’t see it.” <- A lie spoken with the most monotone tone possible. Jamil rolls his eyes over the rim of his mug, taking a sip before turning the page in his book. Najima scoffs before returning to her magazine. She can say he’s softened up all she wants. He won’t admit to it. Doesn’t mean she’s wrong in the slightest. Jamil’s well aware that hopes and wants denied to him from birth have begun to stir within him. No matter how small the changes may be, Jamil isn’t foolish enough to give those emotions his attention. Not if he wants to keep them. Good things always escape his grasp…his wounds are too fresh to get comfortable just yet.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #jamil viper #twst kalim al' asim #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #twst habits series #not me forgetting to put tags here. post has been up a whole day with no tags. i am a certified dummy

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eiightysixbaby · 2 months ago

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eddie in a reindeer costume. that’s it, that’s the post. oh and he’s just like, chronically horny for you.

“Oh, look at you!”

The figure that steps out of the dressing room has your eyes lighting up, your mouth twitching as you hold your laughter off. The person on the other end of your delight is… not so delighted.

“I cannot believe this.” Eddie stands with his hands on his hips, looking down at the holiday monstrosity that is his costume.

He’d lost a bet with Steve, and they’d decided that the loser had to be the final piece to Nancy’s holiday charity event being held at Starcourt Mall.

She already had a Santa, thanks to Chief Hopper. She was going as Mrs. Claus, while you, Robin, and Chrissy had pitched in to be elves. Jonathan got off the hook easy as the designated photographer.

The only thing missing… was Rudolph.

You bring your fist to your mouth, the knuckle of your index finger between your teeth to prevent yourself from erupting into a laughing fit.

A pair of opaque brown tights clings to Eddie’s legs, a matching brown tunic of sorts on his top half. There’s a fluffy patch of white fabric at the belly, and a thick red belt around his middle. A red collar adorned with gold bells rests around his neck, and to top it all off, he has a pair of antlers on his head and a red foam ball on his nose.

The only thing that looks remotely Eddie, are the black combat boots they allowed him to wear on his feet.

“Come on, you look adorable!” you say, pinching at the meat of his bicep.

He groans, shaking his head. “I am not going out there like this. This is humiliating!” he grits, his voice coming out somewhat nasally thanks to his fake nose.

“It is not!” you insist, though your giggling gives you away.

“You’re laughing! You can’t even look at me with a straight face!” he pouts, taking in the elf costume you’re wearing.

“Okay, you look hot as fuck in your costume. Like damn, sweetheart,” he says, eyeing you up and down. You flush at his wandering eyes, giddy with his praise — even if he looks ridiculous while giving it.

“The red and green’s really doing it for you? And the hat with the built in elf ears?” you tease, knowing he just likes the way the outfit hugs you in all the right places.

“Babe, like, it’s not even fair how good you look. If I had known Wheeler was gonna put me in a pair of tights, I would’ve literally killed Harrington if it was my only way to win that bet.”

You cradle his cheek in your palm, letting your thumb rub over his skin. “Baby, it’s for the kids, okay? It’s just a few hours.”

“My entire evening is not just a few hours. These tights are gonna cut off all circulation to my fuckin’ dick by the time we’re done here,” he complains.

You shove him playfully, the bells on your outfit jangling with your movement. But he’s not done with the theatrics.

“Oh god,” he says after a pause. “I’m gonna be out of commission. I’m gonna have no dick, they’ll have to amputate.”

“Eddie,” you roll your eyes. “You are so dramatic. The tights are not gonna kill your dick.”

“How do you know that?” he asks, pulling you into him. His big arms wrap around your back, hands holding your ass loosely. “What if wearing this costume means I can never fuck you again? I think I’ll have to tell Wheeler I can’t do it—”

“Eddie!” you say again, scolding him lightly. “You are going out there, whether you like it or not.” You stand on your tip toes, pressing a kiss to his frowning mouth.

“Whyyyyy?”

“Because, it’s for the kids. Like I said. We have to do this.”

He seems entirely unconvinced as he gazes down at you, those big doe eyes of his heavy-lidded as he stares at your red lips.

“What’re you thinking about, Munson?” you ask, recognizing the growing playfulness in his eyes.

“Think we have time for a quickie?”

You press your palms to his chest, shoving him off of you with a laugh.

“I am not fucking you while you’re wearing antlers. Or that big ass red nose.”

“Okay, rude!”

He doesn’t have time to protest any further, because the rest of the group has come to find you. You hear a muffled chuckle from behind you, and you spin around in your green elf boots to face the culprit.

“Aw, well aren’t you just the beacon of holiday spirit!” Steve says, grinning like the devil at your boyfriend.

“I’m actually going to murder you. In cold blood,” Eddie retorts, scowling at the only person not in costume, save for Jonathan. “This isn’t even fair. I have to wear this and Steve just gets off the hook?”

“You lost the bet, Eddie,” Robin chimes in. “A deal’s a deal.”

“Come on, Rudy,” Jonathan pipes up. “We’ve got some Christmas cheer to spread, so get your best smile on.”

“I hate all of you,” Eddie deadpans.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy says, motioning all of you in the direction of your photo-op setup. “You’ll get over it.”

You link your arm with his, squeezing. You stop him from walking ahead, tiptoeing to get your mouth level with his ear.

“As soon as this is over, you can have me however you like,” you whisper. “But you better be the holliest, jolliest one out there tonight, or no deal,” you add, before pulling away in a flash and skipping ahead to catch up with Chrissy.

“Oh god, you can’t be putting that in my head right now!” he groans from behind you.

You hear his collar jingling as he starts to move.

“Wait up!”

#divider by strangergraphics #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 12 days ago

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MUNCHIES!

Summary: Your neighbor, Kelvin, invites you to the fair. After a night of fun you end up in his apartment.

Warnings: Warnings: Short, Smut, Humor, Neighbors.

Part Two

Kelvin had just finished a day of work that started as early as 5 am. Finally home, he made his way towards his bedroom to undress, only an hour to prepare before he went over to pick up his date.

Standing in front of his wall length mirror, he secured a black durag around his head and flexed some muscles, pleased with his physique. Staring at his reflection with a pair of grey joggers on and white socks, he grabbed his cell phone to take a few pictures.

One grabbing his crotch.

One biting his lip.

And lastly one with a big smile.

He made his way into his messy bedroom littered with clothes and shoes, most of it being designer items sent to him as care packages. He was grateful, but he only had but so much space to put everything. His guest bedroom already turned into another storage area for clothes and shoes.

One habit he couldn’t shake.

Kelvin turned on his shower and quickly undressed the rest of the way. He stepped inside of his shower and started his routine of cleaning, exfoliating, and moisturizing. Warm. Enveloping. Grounded. Engulfed in a wash of amber, a hit of Australian sandalwood, cedar, vetiver; a gentle wave of cardamom. As he smoothed the scrub along his arms, he noticed a scratch there and it brought a smile to his face.

Y/N had scratched him accidentally when they’d been playing around in her apartment last night. The minute his thoughts drifted to her as he stood beneath the filtered shower water, his dick chubbed up immediately and bounced between his legs.

The things he wanted to do to Y/N.

The things he could have done to her last night had he stuck around. She would have been fucked on every surface and that pussy slurped in all sorts of contortions fucking around with him. The Cookie Monster shorts told him all he needed to know. And he was high as a kite too. When he’s high he turns into a super munch and it can’t be tamed. He had to pat himself on the back for behaving.

She had the body that’ll have you busting a premature nut. All those times she’d bent over last night…

He imagined forcing her against the cold counter top while he got down on his knees to suck that pussy from behind—

“Shit,” Kelvin looked down at his dick, “Maybe a quick nut wouldn’t hurt.”

He’d been so pent up lately. No proper release. Kelvin added more soap to his hands for extra slip. He pressed his back against the tile wall and fucked up into his hand nice and slow. Wet balls collided with the back of his hand, soap suds flying onto the glass shower door. Wet, squelching noises were deafening. That pretty, brown dick with a pink tip glistened in his soft hand, slit drooling precum to prepare him for a big eruption.

He’d started taking Maca Root regularly like Aaron suggested and the change in eating habits and vitamins had his libido at an all time high. No wonder he’d overheard his friend in their conjoined hotel room releasing several nuts. He joked him about it but now he understood. Heavy balls and a high sex drive did not mix well if there weren’t releases often.

“FUCK!”

Kelvin pumped faster, bottom lip pouted and eyes crossing. He imagined Y/N’s dainty hand milking him with her tongue on his nipples. Titties rubbing against his chest with the slickness of soap and water. Talking nasty in his face with all that bratty energy.

“Damn, daddy…this big dick wanna cum for me?”

“I bet you wish that cum was in my pussy…”

“If you cum for me I’ll let you eat my pussy all night…”

“I love stroking this big dick.”

“Y/N! Y/N!”

His load spurted out from his tip like an overflowing spout. His hips stuttered out of control. He had to plant his feet firm against the shower floor to prevent from slipping. His stomach caved in the more his ejaculate released from his tight nuts. The steam made his skin more sensitive as he touched his chest.

He opened his eyes and swiped his lips with his tongue. If she could make him cum like that without even fucking her or tasting her, Kelvin didn’t know what to expect when he finally got her.

He rinsed off and made sure his cum had gone down the drain before exiting the shower. As he towel dried his body, his phone buzzed. He entered his room and grabbed his phone from the charger, checking to see who had texted him.

Y/N: Hey, are we still going to the fair? Just checking because it’s almost three.

Kelvin had thirty minutes to prepare. He shot you a quick text before tossing his phone on his bed.

Kelvin: Hey! We’re definitely still going. Just ran a little behind schedule. Let me throw something on and I’ll be over.

Kelvin applied some lotion to his smooth skin and then a white tank top, an olive green Supreme hoodie with a floral design on the back, and denim joggers with all white Nike Dunks. He spritz some cologne on his pulse points and then removed his durag, grabbing a brush to smooth out the deep waves in his hair.

Grabbing his essentials, he exited his apartment, eyes on your text thread.

Y/N: You know I had to lite one up real quick. You better hurry before I smoke this thing down 😂

Kelvin knocked on your door and you opened it ten seconds later. He was instantly hit with a harmonious blend of relaxation and euphoria. Kelvin fixated his brown eyes on the blunt between your fingers, itching to snatch it. You draw your hand back with a giggle, causing his gaze to track a path down your body.

You wore an oversized flannel top with a body—hugging heather gray dress that gripped your hips and thighs tightly. On your feet are a pair of knee high, black converse. Your hair is styled in a braidout and gold jewelry decorated your ears, neck, and fingers. Even with casual attire you ruined him in the best way.

“Hello to you too, Kelvin!” You say with a role of your eyes.

Kelvin gave you an animated look while trying to convey his words with his hands, further annoying you.

“I’m about to close my door in your face if you don’t greet me the proper way.” You sass.

He couldn’t help but bend over and grab his knees as he laughed. Your cute voice and the fake anger you displayed humored him.

Kelvin sat up straighter and licked his lips, “Hey, sexy.”

The way your eyes went round, that told him he’d caught you off guard and that pleased him, his smile with slight dimples growing wider.

“Why are you shocked? It’s the truth,” Kelvin pressed forward, making a ‘grabby’ motion with his fingers, “Now gimmie.”

You didn’t have time to catch up to your motor skills before he stole your blunt and took a puff. As your eyes remained glued to him, he savored the hybrid strain as if he were floating on clouds.

“Wedding Cake?” Kelvin spoke as smoke billowed from his moist, pink lips.

You simply nod your head with a hint of a smile.

“Good shit, sexy…good shit…”

He handed you the blunt. You blink twice to focus before turning to enter your apartment. It was almost three, five minutes to spare.

“C’mon so we can get a good spot!” Kelvin shouted after you.

You reappear with a shoulder bag and your keys. Kelvin gave you some space to lock your door, although he’d leaned in to catch a whiff of your perfume.

Kayali Pistachio.

You turn and Kelvin interlocked his fingers with yours. You give him a look and then a toothy smile like a lovesick woman. He loved catching you off guard.

——

Kelvin found a decent parking spot closer to the entrance. Majority of the younger crowd were leaving with their exhausted parents. At the booth, he displayed his two tickets and both of you received wrist bands to ride unlimited and without having to wait in line. Finally inside, Kelvin held out his hand for you to grasp, the sensation of your soft skin sending a pleasant feeling throughout his chest.

The place is alive with booming music, exhilarated screams, delighted squeals and cheerful shouts. Colossal, gyrating rides with vibrant, pulsating lights towered over the excited visitors. A roller coaster spirals and coils, which makes it look like an elongated snake twisting through the fair. The air is filled with the mouth-watering aromas of sizzling hot-dogs, fluffy cotton candy, spiced apples and sugary donuts. Some stalls sell hamburgers oozing with burnt onions; others sell sweet treats of funnel cakes and deep fried Oreos.

Kelvin stole a glance at you as your eyes that shined bright from the many spectrums of colors danced around. There was so much to do, he wasn’t sure where to start first. Definitely nothing that involved rapid spinning. For you, no drop towers. You bright smile made him grin from ear to ear, displaying pearly whites.

“I want to do the boat ride.” You said.

Kelvin followed your finger. The captain ship that rocked back and forth like a pendulum. He didn’t mind that.

“Let’s go,” Kelvin led the way with your hand in his, “We got the wrist bands to jump the line too!”

The conductor for the ride stopped you both but Kelvin showed him your bands and they let you through. Groans and agitated whispers caused both of you to giggle.

“Where do you like to sit—oh.”

You take a seat all the way in the back. The last row.

“Why do you want to sit back here?” Kelvin questioned with a whiny voice as he settled next to you, “The middle is the best.”

The setting sun caused the brown of your skin to glow. Kelvin narrowed his eyes at you playfully.

“The middle is for punks. Maybe I should start calling you that, huh?” You joked.

“First one to scream is the real punk.” Kelvin declared.

You give him a mischievous smile, accepting the challenge.

The ride started off slow, Kelvin grabbing your hand in anticipation. You both share glances at the sudden drop in your stomach when you reach a new high. The boat whipped forward, causing you to grab Kelvin’s wrist tight. A slight squeal escaped your lips when the boat went back, bringing both of you high in the air. Kelvin squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth while you screamed like a banshee. Both of you laugh hysterically as the ride swayed to a stop.

“Like is said, a PUNK!” Kelvin pointed to you and chuckled while you gave him slaps to his arm.

“I can’t help it! Still not a punk though.”

You both take your time exiting the ride, Kelvin turning to pick you up at the waist, bringing you to your feet gently. You thank him with a pretty smile and reached for his hand. Swinging arms, they head towards a rollercoaster.

Your hair had puffed up from the humidity and it gave you a wild look that drove Kelvin crazy. Anything about you from the beauty mark on your face to the snorting laughs you do made him like you more and more.

“You still look sexy as fuck with messy hair.”

You tucked your chin bashfully, "Thank you handsome."

Kelvin tugged you closer to him, wrapping a hand around your waist. His hand rubbed against your hip and if it wasn't for being in public, Kelvin would have slipped a hand beneath your dress to see if you had any underwear on.

"If you wanna touch my ass, just do it."

You were being bold. Kelvin looked at you before using the hand on your hip to lift the back of your shirt. You laugh as his fingers grip juicy flesh before slapping it a few times.

"Double-cheeked up for real." Kelvin said between laughs.

You both were able to get on and after securing the seatbelts, the operator gave everyone a thumbs up and the cart took off.

The ride began to ascend.

“I always scream on roller coasters even when I love them.”

“It’s cool,” Kelvin's hands gripped the bar.

“We’re almost there,” Kelvin speaks in a soft tone, making you crave him more. Your eyes locked and right before you went down, you put your arms up. You gasped softly, hands coming out in front of you to firmly grasp the bars before the feeling of falling overcame your body.

Kelvin laughed and hollered while everyone else around him screamed through the thrill. Your hair whipped across your face with every turn, Kelvin watching you with a big handsome smile. Another drop came, causing you to squeal a little while your body leaned into him. Kelvin never felt this charged in his life. Your laughs and gasps of pleasure against his neck. Kelvin turns his head, your good smelling hair in his face while your lips connected.

The ride began to slow down and your thighs tightening around Kelvin's hand that came down to grip your thigh. Kelvin reluctantly pulls his hand away, causing you to whimper. He licks his lips clean of your gloss before helping you out of the cart and adjusting your dress. long curly hair all over your head, you looked adorable and freshly fucked. Kelvin smooths your hair out of your face before giving you another kiss.

As both of you walked past a few games, Kelvin pointed out a game booth with bottles and bean bags to knock them down. It was only necessary to win you a stuffed animal. It's sort of a ritual for carnival dates. Kelvin pulled you along, a short, brown-skinned girl with shoulder length locs waving both of you over.

“Knock these bottles down to win a big stuffed animal!”

Kelvin accepted his bean bags, rolling up the sleeves to his hoodie before looking down at you with a wink. You gave Kelvin a hug around his waist before leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"Win me a big Yoshi and I'm all yours..."

How was Kelvin supposed to concentrate now after those seductive words. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his dick ached with anticipation.

"You ready?!" The girl that hosted to gaming booth shouted.

“Yeah!”

Kelvin tosses the first bean bag, missing the bottles entirely “Hold on, hold on! that was a trial.”

“Kelvin, there ain't no trials!” You yell with a giggle while watching him make another toss “Kel! aim!”

“If you don't hush!" Kelvin tossed the third bean bag higher, knocking down the top bottle, "SEE! now what?!"

“Still got five more left.” You said.

Kelvin tosses another bean bag, the Game Worker unimpressed with his skills since most people miss. He pauses, looking down at you with his brown eyes that made her melt, “Can I still have all of you? I give good kisses.”

You blush with a bite of your lower lip, “If you win me that Yoshi I’ll give you a secret kiss in the tunnel of love.”

“How about a secret touch too? Can a nigga get that?”

You rolls your eyes with a pretty smile, “Depends on what this touch is.”

“Hmmm,” Kelvin squints his eyes with a dimpled smile, “You just gotta wait and see what these hands can do. They had you squirming with just a cuff of that ass.”

“Stopppp,” you whisper.

Kelvin prayed over the last bean bag before tossing it, knocking down the rest. He was more excited than you with his jumping and cheering. You gave him a high five with a big smile.

“Wow!” The Game Worker who’s name tag read Kim claps, "Guess that Yoshi is all yours!"

“YAY!” You spoke excitedly while watching Kelvin accept a pink Yoshi.

You continue to squeal, jumping up and down before giving Kelvin a one arm hug.

"Uh-uh. Where's my kiss?"

You shook your head with a giggle, bringing one hand around to the back of Kelvin's neck, bringing him closer. Kelvin shut his eyes and grunted when his lips finally touched yours. Soft. Sugary. Skillful. Kelvin almost dropped the Yoshi when you'd slipped him some tongue. Things were turning up the more you kissed. You finally pushed at Kelvin's chest to stop him from sucking on your neck openly.

You licked your lips, "Okay, Cassonova. calm down."

"Seriously? Seriously? after you just kissed me like that?"

You turned your back towards him, Kelvin stretched his arms out with an astonished expression.

"You play too much!" Kelvin said.

"Look who's talking!" You replied.

The remainder of your time at the fair, you ate junk, took pics in a photobooth, rode the ferris wheel, bumper cars, and even tried the tunnel of love even though it broke down on them halfway through.

——

“Kelvin. What is it with you and this art?”

You pace his living room, blunt in hand and eyes taking in the symbolic photographs in a collage on his wall.

Kelvin slid over to you on his hardwood floor and you laugh at his silliness.

“I am OBSESSED with it…the female body is art.”

He put on a poetic voice, whispering in your ear.

“Oh, but the pussy is brave…lest we forget…how much pain the pussy can take…how much pleasure it delivers,” he laughed softly in your ear while you giggled, “Unto itself and others. Remember how it spit you out without a flinch. Now here you are! Using the word pussy like an insult when you’re not even strong enough to be one.”

“WOW,” you turn to look him directly in the eye, “That was impressive.”

“Rupi Kaur.” Kelvin shrugged.

He took the blunt from your hand and put it between his lips, eyes still staring you down hungrily.

“I had a great time today. Thanks for making it happen. You could have asked out any other girl and you chose me. Your chaotic neighbor.”

“I love chaotic. It’s my specialty,” Kelvin replied with a smile, “On a serious note, yeah…I could if I wanted…but I like you. I like everything about you. And I want you. We wouldn’t be here…surrounded by my art and sharing a blunt…and I’m sure arousal…if I didn’t.”

Kelvin placed the blunt between your lips and as you smoke, he played with your ass.

His voice was all raspy and dangerous, “I wanna play.”

“Play how?” You tugged at his gold chain.

Kelvin started kissing along your neck, causing you to flinch from how it tickled.

“STAWWWWP!”

“I like the way you sound when you giggle and tell me to stop,” Kelvin picked you up, your legs straddling him, a streak escaping your mouth.

You’re just so...soft. So soft to him.

“How many licks…until I get…”

Before you know it, you’re in his bedroom. How many licks? Kelvin placed you on his bed while he takes off his hoodie. You instantly feel your clit jump.

“I like the sound of this game.” You finally said.

“I bet you do. And I’m high too. My favorite thing to snack on when I have the munchies.”

Fuck.

You don’t waste time taking off your flannel shirt, tossing it on the floor. You already have your shoes off. Kelvin watched you lay back against his bed with that dress on and a hand between your legs with your knees drawn to your chest. He arched a brow at you.

“No panties?! What a nasty girl!” Kelvin said.

“Figured I’d make it easy for you.”

“Oh, so you just knew what was going to happen, huh?”

Kelvin took off his tank top, shirtless with a six pack. Your eyes swept over his frame with a nibble of your bottom lip. He settled at the foot of the bed, staring down between your legs with his tongue slowly swiping his top lip.

“Move your hand.” Kelvin commanded.

“Gotta say the magic words first!”

“Open sesame!”

Kelvin waved his hands in front of his like he was conjuring magic. You roll over onto your side in a fit of laughter.

“Aight, spread your legs, Y/N! I’m drooling!” Kelvin begged.

“You want it that bad, huh?”

You open your legs side to side but your hand remained over your pussy. Kelvin sucked his teeth and then he crawled onto the bed.

“So, I gotta move your hand myself? I wanna see it,” Kelvin reached for your hand but you scoot towards the head of his bed, “Y/N! I’m tryna eat!”

“Kelvin! Ah!”

Kelvin wrestled with you, both of you rolling around on his bed. You were on top of him, hands together as you try to overpower him. Kelvin let go of your hands and quickly lifted your dress, peeking under and you try to climb off of him but he successfully flipped you onto your back.

“As much as I love to reenact WWE, I need my entire mouth on your pussy…respectfully…now.”

Your chest heaved up and down and your nipples instantly stiffen from his words. Mingled breaths and locked eyes. Kelvin stared at your lips.

“Please?” He lowered his face and started kissing along your jaw, “I wanna make you feel good, baby…”

You scrunch your brows and moan.

“Okay. Be my munch.” You say barely above a whisper.

Kelvin chuckled.

“Gladly.”

You both stare at each other for a while until Kelvin’s hand lifts your dress around your waist. You follow his gaze between your legs. He pushed your thighs so that your knees touched your chest.

“Ugh, fuck, you got the pinkest, wettest pussy I’ve had the pleasure of staring at.”

Your lower lip quivered.

His lips gave you open mouthed kisses on your phat pussy lips and inward. Any part of you his lips would wrap around and lightly suck. You watch him keep your legs open with his hands and the sight of his fine ass with that pink tongue and those pink lips eating you up had you eager to cum in his mouth.

“Yes, mmm, eat that phat pussy, yes, baby,” You encourage Kelvin to go harder. Kelvin scrunched his brows, eyes closed as he licked your juicy slit in long strokes. Deep pressured strokes. He had that pussy wide open while giving you everything you deserved. You started rocking your hips, feeding that tongue, moving your hips in tune with his licks.

“Kelvin, oh my gosh,” You place a hand on top of his waves, “Yes…mmm…I love those lips.”

Kelvin smiled and used those lips to suck on your clit. You throw your head back from the sensation, the blunt sat discarded on a table, no longer needed. You sat up on your elbows when he added two fingers. This man could finger pussy too? You were unable to control your moans. He would look up at you with a smug expression and a mouth full of pussy.

This was the hardest your clit has ever been from head. This was the most turned on and wet you’d ever been from head. You push at Kelvin’s forehead and he grabbed your wrist. His lips and his tongue was sending you into bliss and you could feel yourself preparing to cum.

“Mm, mm, keep still,” Kelvin stroked your spot and he looked at your with low eyes, “What I tell you to do?”

“It feels so good,” You reply with a weak voice, thighs shaking.

“Then why stop me if it feels good. Punk ass.”

“SHUT UP!”

Kelvin’s lips were back on your clit. You couldn’t close your legs because he had you pined to the bed. Whenever your hips moved side to side, he followed you. Nowhere to run.

“What was all that shit you were talking?!”

Kelvin smiled at you when you tried to move again. He simply flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue. Side to side. Up and down. In a circle. In your hole. Your eyes crossed.

“Fucccck!”

His loud eating had your pussy making noise. Wet, raunchy noises. Kelvin suckled your clit again while curling his fingers over your spot.

“This my pussy? Say it.”

He paused, staring at you.

“Say it’s my pussy.”

You were in a daze. And it wasn’t the weed.

“It’s yours, Kelvin!”

“Good girl.”

You could feel your release coming. The closer it got the more Kelvin sucked on your pussy. He gently tugged on your clit with his lips before sucking it into his mouth like he was slurping oysters out a shell. Your eyes rolled and your hands reached out to grab onto the sheets. Kelvin gave you his hands to hold. You let out the most angelic moan with your head turning from side to side. You came all in Kelvin’s mouth. He mumbled something into your pussy while slapping your phat ass. Kelvin lifted his face from between your pussy lips, licking his lips while his brown eyes connected with yours.

“I’m not finished.”

Kelvin had you on all fours.

He was eating both holes from the back.

You were dripping to the sheets.

That clit didn’t stand a chance.

That pussy continues to cream all in his mouth. Your dress and bra were somewhere in the room. You couldn’t keep track. Words were lost to you and all you could do was drool against his pillow.

“Ima cum in your mouth again!”

Kelvin gripped your ass cheeks as his tongue darted in and out of your pussy from the back. The sound of his tongue had you moaning.

“Eat that shit! Fuck!”

The sucking. He probably had cum dripping from his chin at this point. Orgasm rocked your body so hard you fall to your stomach. Kelvin slapped your ass and with a laugh he settled next to you with a content smile and a glossy face. He rested his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. You just stared at him like he was the Devil.

“What I tell you?”

Kelvin turned to look at you.

“You think you can handle more?”

You could only blink at him. This man can’t be real.

“I don’t get tired, Y/N. Hm,” kelvin turned onto his side and ran his fingers down your spine and over your ass, “Wanna sit on my face?”

It was as if his words had some sort of power over you. You wanted more. NEEEDED MORE.

You sit up and Kelvin gave you a smile before helping you to sit reverse cowgirl on his face.

“Ride my tongue…do it.”

You brace yourself on his thighs and whine your hips. His tongue and lips savored your sopping wet folds.

“Right there, daddy…”

Kelvin reached around your body to pinch your nipples. You whirl your hips when his lips found your clit again.

“Stay on it…mmm…stay on that clit…”

You bit your lip, a confidence flaring up within you.

Kelvin ate to his hearts desire and you couldn’t get enough of it. Your eyes fall to his crotch, a heavy bulge right there in his briefs. You take your hand and stroke him, that dick jerking against your palm. While he ate your pussy for the third time, you freed his dick and when that warm girth touched the flesh of your hand, you whimpered.

Eight inches. Smooth. Brown. Pink tip.

You stroke him, pre cum spilling over your fingers. His balls are so big. You cup them and roll them in one hand while stroking him in your other hand. Kelvin moaned into your pussy, thigh muscles tightening.

“Such a pretty dick, Kelvin…”

You lean forward a little, spitting on his tip. Kelvin tongued you down from clit to hole and you twist your wrist to stroke him while riding out your orgasm. You could feel yourself coming in his mouth.

“I want this dick in me.”

Arching your back, you wrap your lips around his tip and start sucking. Kelvin’s hips jerked out of control.

“Fuck, Y/N. Suck that dick.”

He could see you from his angle, bobbing your head with his dick hitting the back of your throat.

“Mmm, I knew that mouth was made for dick.”

You had his balls while you throated him.

“Dick taste good, don’t it?”

You were loving his dirty talk. It did taste good. You knew it would.

“I made myself cum earlier thinking about you, Y/N…I couldn’t help myself…I think about you so much…how you would look riding my dick…how deep I can fuck you…”

His dick in your mouth, his balls in your hand, your cum on his lips. All of it had you ready to fuck this man into oblivion. Ride him like you were throwing ass to a bounce beat. He was so fine and so deserving of the pussy. He makes you laugh, he’s a gentleman, he’s a certified munch. Boy were you lucky.

Kelvin stared at your pussy and rubbed it from behind.

“Squeeze my nuts…mmm…suck that tip, baby…Y/N…I’m a cum…you want me to cum so bad, huh…shit…”

Kelvin sank two fingers deep inside of you and his dick swelled to the point of making your jaws sore. He let off a big nut in your mouth and you gulped it down like a good cum, guzzling slut.

Kelvin twitched while you sucked down as much nut as you could. His fingers slipped out of you and you finally release his dick. You turn to look at him, and before you know it, Kelvin is sucking on his fingers and then bringing you to the bed to kiss you. He’s on top of you with his tongue in your mouth and his dick flesh against your pussy lips.

Breaking the kiss, Kelvin locked eyes with you.

“I wanna fuck you now.” He whispered.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter @dashhoney25

#kelvin harrison jr.#nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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kai-uh-arcadian · 3 months ago

Text

Project: Aeri

synopsis: you get paired with the campus’ mean girl Aeri Uchinaga to work on a semester long project together

cw: cursing, tension, alcohol, rich/mean girl aeri, angst (?) idk, it's barely suggestive near the end, barely proofread, college au! reader runs track and aeri is a cheerleader but it really doesn’t pertain to the plot too much! also I don't think i used any pronouns for the reader :D

word count: 6.1k

notes!! hi (: this was fun so fun to write!! I loveeee the dynamic between reader and aeri hehe

Lmk how you feel about this or if you'd just like to chat!

read part two here!!!

You found yourself with a decent amount of time, arriving at your lecture hall with a good 15 minutes to spare. When you got through the door, your eyes looked through the room, scanning for the perfect seat, preferably in the back.

A fair number of students had claimed their spots but thankfully, the seat you had set your sights on remained empty. With a soft plop, you settled into your seat, ready for your last first class ever! (finally)

You mindlessly scrolled through instagram before a girl walked past you in the aisle trying to get to a seat. A snobby “oops” escaped her lips as her designer leather purse missed your head by a hair. Her purse may have missed you but her excessive amount of perfume did not.

You slumped back in your seat, stifling your frustration just as the professor began setting up her laptop, fumbling with the projector. But all your irritation fizzled out the moment you caught sight of the girl again, now seated a few seats from you. A pretty familiar face.

You sighed, the earlier instance clicking in your head after recognizing who it was.

Aeri Uchinaga.

Of course.

The name itself was practically legendary around campus. Aeri or better known as Giselle to her inner circle—was sort of everyone’s campus celebrity as she was effortlessly popular and untouchably cool. She was the girl everyone wanted to befriend, date, or at least be seen with. Aeri was on the cheer squad and she was the one who had it all—beauty, charm, and an air of superiority that made your skin crawl.

It’s not like you disliked her per se, but it was her superiority complex that irked the living shit out of you. It bothered you how much of a bitch she was.

The professor, blissfully unaware of your internal groaning, launched into a painfully slow breakdown of the syllabus. You tried to pay attention, but your mind drifted as she agonizingly detailed each project and the writing part of it. Luckily, no exams—just two parts of a project to do for the whole semester.

How is this an hour and fifteen minutes you thought as you sighed, slumping back into your seat

“So, throughout my years of teaching I’ve done these partner projects. I have asked for feedback each year. A lot of my students expressed that the most difficult part of the semester project was initially finding a partner. I know you’re all adults but this is a great way to make friends you normally wouldn’t speak to! So, I’ve already randomly assigned you partners! When I call your name can you please raise your hand and find your partner” She beamed at her great idea

Honestly she did have a point, and it was less work/anxiety trying to find a partner

She listed pairs after pairs until she said name making your ears perk up

“Y/n.. L/n !” Her eyes scanned the room for you

You raised your hand from way back and did a small wave paired with a bright smile

“Oh! Hi- and your partner is... Aeri Uchinaga!” Her eyes scanned the room again looked for a raised hand

Oh of course

She didn’t scan long as the girl that shuffled passed you earlier rose her hand with a fake smile

Despite Aeri’s complex, it wasn’t hard to see why people gravitated towards her. Her hair was in a perfect ponytail and you caught a glimpse of a smile that could disarm anyone. Her demeanor was effortlessly charming and her presence dominated each and any room she was in.

She was a bit intimidating, you had to admit

And you? Well, you were a runner. Literally. Your life kinda revolved around those early morning track practices and late-night study sessions. The university’s track team didn’t exactly have the same hype as the football team, basketball team or the cheer squad that went with them.

But you didn’t mind, you were perfectly content with not being in the spotlight and pretty happy with the (very) small fan group you had attracted throughout your four years.

You just didn’t crave attention the way Aeri seemed to

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. Out of all the people in your large lecture, it had to be her.

You tried to play it off, extending an olive branch to her through a kind smile–Aeri caught your eye again, her smile dropping the second the professor looked away. She didn’t seem any more thrilled about the arrangement than you were– but at least you tried to fake it! You could practically hear her thoughts: Great, stuck with you.

You slumped back into your seat, inwardly groaning.

What. A. Bitch.

Class ended with the usual shuffle of students packing up their belongings, but you remained in your seat, feeling the weight of the project announcement settle heavily in your chest. The thought of working with the Aeri Uchinaga was... daunting, to say the least. For most people, partnering with her for an entire semester would be a dream come true, but you couldn’t care less about her social status or the attention she commanded. Her world of endless appearances and surface-level bullshit wasn’t one you ever wanted to step into.

As you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder, a voice stopped you.

"Hey."

You turned to see Aeri making her way down the aisle toward you, her steps purposeful, confidence radiating from her like always. “Let me have your number,” she said sharply. It wasn’t a request but more of a command.

You hesitated, offering a tentative way out. “I mean, I can just handle the project myself and put your name on it. You don’t seem too excited about working together.”

Aeri paused just a few feet away, her expression unreadable but her eyes flashed a flicker of consideration. “If this was any other class, I’d let you do it and wouldn’t think twice,” she replied, her voice clipped. “But my dad says I actually need to pass this one. So, no, I can’t coast through.”

The bluntness in her words caught you off guard. You weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or even more nervous. You sighed softly, “I see.”

Aeri extended her hand without a word, and you typed in your number. She glanced at it briefly, then slid her phone into her bag, her expression never really changing.

"Thanks," she said, the word sounding more like an obligation than gratitude. She muttered a quick “I’ll text you.” And without even waiting for a response, she walked off right past you, already scrolling through her phone as if you or your interaction had barely registered.

You stood there for a moment, watching her retreating figure, your thoughts swirling.

What a fucking bitch.

The reality slowly settled in as you made your way out of the lecture hall...

You’d be spending more time with her than you ever imagined nor cared for.

A few days passed, and true to her word, you got a text from a number:

"It’s Aeri. Come over to my place at 6. We’ll start on the project then." With an address attached.

No pleasantries, no extra fluff. It was straightforward—just like her.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you showed up at her apartment, but it definitely wasn’t this. The building itself was pristine, the type of place you’d expect from someone who never had to worry about rent money. The lobby alone screamed "daddy’s money," with its sleek and modern decor.

When you reached Aeri’s door, she greeted you with a casual nod, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on, let’s get started.”

Her apartment was just as fancy as you imagined. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the room with natural light, and sleek designer furniture was perfectly arranged, like something out of a magazine. It wasn’t just nice—it was borderline intimidating. You couldn’t help but feel out of place in your university hoodie and sweatpants.

“Nice place,” you muttered as you took your shoes off by the door.

“Thanks,” Aeri replied nonchalantly, already making her way to a small table where her laptop was open and ready. “Let’s try to knock out the outline for the project tonight.”

The evening went smoother than you’d initially imagined it to go, and to your surprise, Aeri was focused and typing away at her laptop. She was of course still cold, only speaking to you about the project and there was plenty of chilling silence.

Three weeks had already passed since the project began and you’re already at your wits end with her. You have made every effort fucking possible to be nice to Aeri. Every time you went over to her apartment you tried your hardest to alleviate the awkward silence. You’d ask about her day, how the cheer team was doing, or what her plans for the weekend were. But most of the time, you were met with a huff, a roll of the eyes, or a dismissive answer that felt like she couldn’t care less(she couldn’t). Still, you pushed through and your kind heart gave Aeri the benefit of the doubt.

But today was different.

You’ve had a long day. After leaving Aeri’s apartment last night at 1AM, you were up again by 5AM to get ready for your track meet. You had planned to sleep on the bus ride to the meet, but you remembered a paper you still needed to finish for another class, so instead of sleeping, you spent the entire ride hunched over your laptop, working.

The meet itself was grueling. You competed in four different events, your body screaming for rest by the end of it. What stung the most was your individual race—the one you were supposed to win. You lost by 0.5 seconds. It was frustrating knowing how much time and effort you had poured into preparing for this moment, only to fall short by the tiniest margin.

By the time you got back to your apartment at 8PM, you were completely drained, both physically and emotionally. You had barely collapsed onto your couch when your phone buzzed.

It was Aeri.

Her message had a cold urgency that made your eye twitch.

"You done yet? Come over already. You said you’d be done by 7:30. I have something to do at 11."

You thought about ignoring it. You thought about telling her off right then and there. But instead, you sighed, had a quick shower, changed into something more comfortable, and made your way to her place, frustration bubbling beneath your surface.

When you finally arrived at her apartment, exhausted and frustrated, Aeri barely looked up from her phone while giggling at something.

“So, I did the third section of part two today. Look over it, kay’? ” Not even a greeting nor eye-contact. At this point you were used to it but today it rubbed you the complete wrong way.

You swallowed it, you couldn’t help but try with her. “Yeah.. I can do that” You tried to excuse her behavior with “that’s just how she is”

For the first few minutes, you worked in silence, one-sided tension from your end was building in the air around you like a heavy cloud.

“So.. how was your day today?” You politely asked while making some grammatical adjustments to her part

“Good.”

“Oh good, did you do anything?” Trying to lead with a better question this time

“No.”

“Well, I had a track meet today and Aeri! it was so–” You excitedly began your anecdote with a chuckle, in hopes of sharing a story for conversation’s sake.

“Cool.” She interrupted, not even looking up from her laptop

Your smile instantly dropped and you tried your best to keep everything in but after everything you had been through today along with these few weeks, something inside you finally snapped.

You shut your laptop harder than you meant to and looked up at her, your voice was tight with frustration. “Can you at least try to pretend to enjoy my company?”

Aeri glanced up, her eyes widening slightly surprised at your tone. “Excuse me?” her eyebrow raising in defense

“I’ve been nothing but nice to you for weeks,” you continued, your voice rising with each word. “I ask about your day, your stupid ass cheer team, and all I get is a roll of your eyes or some half-assed response. I’m really trying here, but it’s like fucking pulling teeth to have a simple ass conversation with you.”

Aeri blinked, clearly not expecting this 'out-of-character' outburst. “What? I– ”

You cut her off, your emotions finally spilling over “Please don’t ‘what’ me Aeri,” tears of frustration or exhaustion glistened in your eyes, “You think this is how I want to be spending MY Saturday night? You think this is how I want to spend each or every other day? I ALSO don’t want to be here. I’m so fucking tired Aeri but here I am because YOU wanted me here to work on this stupid fucking project even though I told you I had a meet today. Or did you just not care to remember?” You stood up, placing your laptop in your bag with a sharp motion. “You know what? We don’t even have to do this together. You can just text me if you have any questions, and I’ll do the same. We shouldn’t waste more of each other’s time”

Aeri’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. She just stared at you, stunned, as you turned on your heel and walked out of her apartment without looking back. This was the first time someone had spoken up against the ‘untouchable’ Aeri Uchinaga.

Aeri’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. She couldn’t quite place a reason as to why she felt like she wanted to cry. Maybe she enjoyed the idea of being around someone so kind and genuine as you.

For the next week and a half, you didn’t hear from Aeri. You worked on the project alone, silently making adjustments and adding content without bothering to ask for her input. She hadn’t reached out but she did notice your silent additions while you genuinely couldn’t care. You were just frustrated because you really thought she wasn’t how she seemed.

But then, after days of silence, your phone buzzed with a text from her:

“Can you come over Y/n?”

“Please?”

You stared at the message for a long moment, debating whether to go or not. But something about the way she said “please” tugged at you. Reluctantly, you agreed.

“Omw”

When you arrived at her apartment, the energy between you was completely different from before. Aeri opened the door, her usual confidence replaced with something more.. Timid? She stepped aside to let you in, her eyes, for once, weren’t glued to her phone and onto yours.

The silence between you was thick, uncomfortable. Normally, you would have made an effort to break it, but this time, you remained cold.

“Hey so, how was your day?” She asked

After a few moments, you spoke up

“I think we should just get this section done and over with” you said flatly, settling onto the table without even glancing in her direction.

Aeri hesitated, biting her lip as she sat beside you. For once, she didn’t have her usual snarky remarks or her dismissive scoffs. She just quietly opened her laptop and got to work. The silence between you felt suffocating. Every now and then, you’d catch Aeri glancing at you from the corner of her eye, her usual sharp confidence was completely absent. She seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting more than usual as she worked.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aeri broke the silence.

“Y/n...” she started, her voice soft and hesitant. You didn’t look up, keeping your focus on your laptop.

“I... I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper.

That statement caught your attention. You slowly lifted your eyes from the screen, glancing at her. She wasn’t looking at you, her gaze fixed on her hands as she fidgeted with her perfectly done acrylic nails.

“I don’t think I’m used to people spending time with me just because they want to,” she continued, her voice quieter than you’d ever heard before. “Most people either want something from me or whatever. I didn’t know how to handle it when you actually tried to get to know me. And I guess I pushed you away because of that.”

She sighed, her fingers tracing the edge of the table as her words lingered in the air. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I just... didn’t know what to do with someone who cared.”

You stared at her for a moment, her words sinking in. Part of you had expected her to never acknowledge the way she’d been treating you, but now that she had, you couldn’t help but soften. Her vulnerability felt real, and it was clear she wasn’t used to letting people see this side of her.

A small, shy smile crept onto your face as you leaned back slightly. “Did you miss my attention or something?” you teased lightly, hoping to ease the tension.

Aeri finally looked up, rolling her eyes playfully as they met yours. “You know, I actually did, you idiot,” she quipped back, a small smirk tugging at her lips. But as she continued, her voice grew softer, more serious. “I honestly didn’t think I would... or that I would care, but when you stopped trying…” She paused, her tone becoming more vulnerable. “I noticed.. or that I realized I actually missed you... missed having someone who wanted to be around me as much as I wanted to be around them.”

Her words settled between you, and in that moment, you realized something. The cold, distant facade Aeri had been putting up wasn’t about you at all—it was about her. She had been pushing you away because that’s what she was used to. That’s how she protected herself from getting hurt.

“You had some way of showing that” You let out a small chuckle with a soft sigh. The anger you’d been holding onto for the past week and a half slowly melting away. “You could’ve just said that earlier ya know?” you replied gently, your voice free of the coldness it had held before.

She offered you a small but genuine, almost shy smile, and for the first time, it felt like the walls between you were starting to come down.

“I’m sorry too, Aeri,” you added, offering her your goofy smile. The air felt lighter now, and for the first time in weeks, you both seemed to be on the same page.

She really did have a smile that could disarm anyone.

Another three weeks had passed, and after that night, you found yourself spending more and more time with Aeri. At first, it was just to work on the project, but as the days went by, things slowly began to shift. You learned to navigate her moods, her sarcasm, and even her occasional backhanded compliments. To your surprise, Aeri started to let go of her ‘mean-girl’ persona.

She no longer seemed as guarded with you, and the more time you spent together, the more she let you see sides of her that weren’t wrapped up in the image of being the perfect cheerleader or the richest girl on campus.

It wasn’t until one evening that everything truly changed.

You were back at her apartment for what was supposed to be one of your final work sessions before the project deadline. As usual (now), Aeri was focused for most of the evening yet still actively conversing, but as the hours ticked by, you noticed her energy faltering.

“Ahh~ fuck! We’ve been at this for way too long,” she finally said, closing her laptop with a sigh.

“Let’s take a break.”

You leaned back in your chair, “Thank god you said that,” stretching your arms above your head. ”I’m starting to lose it too”

Aeri stood and walked to her kitchen, rummaging through her fridge before pulling out a couple of drinks. “Wine or White Claws?” she asked, holding them up with a smirk. “I thinkkk~ we deserve a little something for surviving this long.”

You hesitated, glancing between the two options. “Uhh~ wines too classy for the occasion,” you said with a laugh, completely taken aback at her sudden behavior

“White Claw it is,” she said, tossing one to you before cracking open her own. She plopped down beside you with a smirk. “To surviving this stupid project,” she said, raising her can in a mock toast.

“To surviving, Ms. Uchinaga,” you echoed, tapping your drink against hers.

You took a sip, the cold fizz of the seltzer hitting your tongue, but your face instinctively scrunched up at the taste.

Aeri noticed and burst into laughter. “Not a fan, Y/n?”

“It’s free, so I can’t really complain,” you replied with a grin. “But if I’m being honest, I prefer beer.”

“Ew! Beer? Really?” she cringed playfully, shaking her head. “It’s like carbonated piss!”

“Oh, so you know what piss tastes like? Weirdo,” you teased without missing a beat.

Aeri's mouth dropped open in mock offense, and she gave you a playful shove. “Shut the fuck up you’re soo annoying!”

You both laughed, the tension that had lingered for so long between the two of you seemed to dissipate, replaced by something softer.

You saw a side of Aeri that you hadn’t seen before—one that wasn’t wearing her usual cold mask. For once, she was real. Laughing about stupid things, opening up about her dad, venting about her struggles with balancing school and her social life.

Somewhere throughout the conversation, Aeri had absentmindedly turned on a random show in the background, though neither of you paid much attention to it. The drinks kept flowing, and you two lost count after a while, but it didn’t matter. You both found yourselves laughing at god knows what, the sound filling the room. But when the laughter finally died down, the air between you shifted again—heavier with something unsaid yet undeniably present.

Your eyes met hers, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The noise from the TV faded into the background as the silence between you, heavy with something mutually unspoken.

Aeri smiled softly, her guard lowered even more this time. “You’re not as bad as I thought, ya know?”

You laughed nervously, “You’re also not exactly what I expected either, Ms. Uchinaga.”

“Well, who is Ms. Uchinaga to you, hmm~?” she asked, lazily sipping her drink.

You paused, taken aback from the heavy question.

“Well, at first, Ms. Uchinaga was a bit... stuck up and... kind of a bitch,” you teased with a chuckle. But then your tone softened as you continued, “But now, I see someone who's actually really hard-working and driven. She’s not cold—she’s just protective of herself. She’s witty, smart, and honestly? One of the greatest people I've met. I’m really lucky I get the pleasure of knowing her.”

You shrugged, finishing your drink while reaching for another, and Aeri smiled, something soft yet needy flickered in her eyes.

She met your eyes and the moment lingered—just the two of you, sitting in her ridiculously nice apartment, sharing drinks and paired with a conversation that was so.. intimate.

Your held eye contact had so much unspoken tension. Her eyes were basically longing for you.

As much as you wanted to kiss her, something held you back.

Maybe it was the fear of misreading the situation? Or maybe you were both afraid to cross that boundary.

So, as much as you cherished the soft, tender moment, you let it pass, pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind as you broke eye contact to take a big gulp of your freshly opened drink.

You paused, glancing at your half-full can before turning your gaze back to Aeri. Her smile lingered as she lazily sipped her drink.

You felt your heart racing as you decided to push the moment just a bit further. “Well... who is Y/n to you?” you asked, your voice soft but direct. “I just shared who you are to me, Uchinaga”

Aeri blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. Her drink froze halfway to her lips, and she lowered it slowly, her eyes scanning your face as if searching for the right words.

For a moment, she didn’t respond, her expression was contemplative. She placed her drink in her lap and leaned back slightly, her gaze dropping as she fidgeted with the nails again. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—more like she was deciding how honest she wanted to be.

“Y/n...is” Aeri started, her voice softer than before. “Different.” She glanced up, meeting your eyes, and you could see the hesitation in hers. “Kind. Not like most people I know. You pushed yourself into my life, and you still... stuck around, even when I wasn’t the easiest person to be around.”

She let out a quiet laugh, more at herself than anything. “Honestly, I didn’t get it at first. Like.. Why you kept trying with me? But now... I think I do.” her voice hinted at knowing something.

Her fingers traced the edge of her can, her voice quiet but steady. “And you’re patient. And I’m not used to that. You’ve seen sides of me that I don’t let most people see, and I think... I’ve been scared of that.”

You swallowed, her words hanging in the air. “Scared?”

“Yeah... I think so,” she admitted, her voice almost a whisper. “Like I said before, I’m not really used to people sticking around just to get to know me. They’ve always stuck around to use me for some type of gain. But you... you’ve just been here. And I think at first, I was afraid that you’re gonna turn out like everyone else but now I’m scared because I don’t feel the need to push you away”

A confession?

The weight of her words pressed down on you, the vulnerability in her tone echoing in the room. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say, the truth of what she’d just admitted settling between you both. You could feel the walls between you crumbling, and this time, it wasn’t just a fleeting moment—it was real, raw.

You smiled gently, leaning forward just a little. “I’m glad you’re not pushing me away,” you said softly, placing a reassuring hand on her own fidgeting one, your voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Better not.” Aeri’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, her eyes softening.

Both of your eyes flickered to each other's lips, though the distance between them never closed.

After a few days of wrapping up the project, your mind kept drifting back to that night. The intimate moment between you and Aeri replayed in your thoughts, and the regret of not kissing her gnawed at you. You couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever reach out again, if she even wanted to, or maybe she was waiting for you to reach out?

But then, as if she had been reading your racing mind, there she was. Full of surprises, like always.

A text from Aeri popped up on your phone unexpectedly

“Y/n! Come to this party tonight (:”

You stared at the message for a moment, a smile creeping onto your face like a fool while your fingers hovered over the screen as you debated your response.

"Where? And why? You miss me too much, Uchinaga? Lol," you typed back, trying to play it cool, though your heart raced as you hit send.

Her reply came almost immediately.

“Sig Chi House! Starts at 9. And duh, I wanna see you there ;)”

Your heart fluttered at the last part, the winky face sending a warm buzz through your chest. You reread the message, biting back a grin, unable to shake the excitement that suddenly pulsed through you.

Aeri Uchinaga what are you doing to me

Sig Chi was exactly how you remembered it—loud music, a packed crowd, and the heavy smell of liquor and cheap cologne wafting through the air. It didn’t take long to remember why you stopped coming.

As you weaved through the party, you managed to snag a beer off a random table (which you quickly chugged and put back on the table) before spotting her in the kitchen. She was surrounded by a small group of her cheerleader friends that you recognized and one guy you didn’t, all laughing and drinking.

Despite her simple crop top and jeans, she stood out effortlessly. Her hair fell in perfect waves down her back, like a dark waterfall catching the party lights, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.

Then her eyes landed on you, and for a split second, something flickered in her expression. She quickly excused herself from the group, making her way over to you with two drinks in hand—a solo cup in one and a beer in the other.

"You made it!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a hug, her scent a mix of straight vodka and the sweet perfume you remembered from the first day of class. Her smile was wide and genuine. "I wasn’t sure you’d come, but I saved you a beer."

“Wow, thanks, Aeri,” you said, doing your best to keep your nerves in check as you realized she remembered your favorite drink. “Couldn’t make you suffer without me for too long, right?” you added with a playful smirk.

Aeri laughed, nudging you lightly. "Oh, shut up!” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. “But I’m glad you came."

She then began going off about something that looked important, but with the noise of the party and the way her lips moved a mile a second, you couldn’t quite catch it. Honestly, you probably just looked like a lovesick puppy, completely entranced by her without even processing a word. Just perfectly content being around her.

“Are you even listening to me?” She tried to say over the music, her eyebrows furrowed

“What are you even saying?” you asked, leaning down to hear her better, the height difference making it harder.

Aeri leaned in closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder close to your neck. Her breath was warm against your ear, and the contact sent a shiver down your spine. “Let’s go outside, I can’t hear a fucking thing in here!” she laughed, her voice low. Before you could respond, she wrapped her arm around yours, leading you through the crowded house and out the back door.

The noise of the party faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in the cool night air. For a moment, it felt like the party was miles away, just the two of you caught in an orbit only you could understand.

“Ah~” Aeri sighed, stretching an arm above her head. “This is sooo much better.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” you sighed, raising your drink slightly.

She leaned in a bit, a playful smile on her face, her voice slightly slurred. “So... you’re not much of a party person, huh?”

You chuckled. “What gave me away?”

Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she laughed softly. “You should’ve seen the look on your face when I saw you inside. You looked so lost,” she teased, then giggled. “It was cute.”

You opened your mouth to say something but something or someone interrupted, causing you both to turn your heads

The porch door swung open, and the guy you had noticed earlier stepped out. He carried himself with the arrogance of someone used to getting what he wanted, his greasy gaze glued to Aeri like she was the prize of the night.

“Giselle, I didn’t see you run off earlier,” he said, sliding in too close, completely oblivious to your presence.

You saw how Aeri stiffened slightly but forced a smile, clearly not interested in making a scene. “Hi Mark,” she scoffed, her voice cool, though the venom was unmistakable.

Mark leaned in even closer, his arm brushing against Aeri’s, his smirk making your blood boil. You had no right to feel this possessive, but something surged within you at the sight of him invading her space.

“You wanna.. come back to my place after?” His words were extremely slurred, his eyes quickly shot to you “You’re hot too, you can come if you want,” he added with a smug grin, as if he was doing you both a favor by suggesting it.

Without thinking, you stepped forward, reaching out to gently pull Aeri back toward you. She glanced at you, a flicker of surprise in her eyes before you gave her a look she hadn’t seen from you before. Jealousy and desire.

Aeri raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your boldness. Mark noticed, his cocky smirk faltering.

“She’s already got plans to come to mine, so you can just fuck off” you said, keeping your voice steady even though your heart was pounding.

Aeri, catching onto your energy, stepped closer, her shoulder brushing against yours. She turned to Mark, her tone ice-cold. “I don’t even know why you would ever think to ask me that?” she asked, emphasizing the absurdity of his request, her head tilting slightly as if she couldn’t believe the audacity.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by Aeri’s cold tone. “Wow chill.. No need to be such a stuck-up bitch,” he muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as he stumbled back. His gaze flicked to you, bitterness in his eyes. “Fuck you too”

You didn’t realize Aeri was holding onto you until you started to step toward Mark. As soon as he was gone, Aeri turned to you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, look at you,” she teased, her voice low. “Didn’t know we had plans tonight.”

“Oh whatever, ” You tried to play it cool, but your heart was still racing from the surge of possessiveness you hadn’t expected. “I just said that because I didn’t like how close he was getting. He seemed like a total douchebag too.” You huffed

Aeri chuckled, stepping in even closer, her breath warm against your neck. “Were you jealous or something n/n?”

Your cheeks burned. “Well- no! I…He was just being an asshole.”

She grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Uh-huh~ Well, for the record, I liked it.” Her voice dropped, more serious now, as her hand brushed against yours. “You were kinda hot.”

“Oh, shut up.” You tried your best to shrug her off, but the burning red tips of your ears gave you away.

Aeri tilted her head, her teasing grin widening. “Now, I’m curious,” she said. “Was that all it was? Or do you have something you wanna tell me?”

You blinked, you were soooo caught but still feigned innocence. “What! No..”

“You pulling me away from that guy back there,” she said, crossing her arms as she leaned back. “You really did look like you were about to tackle him ya know? Was it really just because he was an asshole?” she giggled, she was so messing with you right now

You felt your face heat up. “It wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—”

“You’re cute” She laughed, her amusement lighting up the darkness of the night. "Relax, I’m jus–”

You had to say something, even if it made you feel like a fool. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

“Okay fine Aeri it’s because I like you and I have for a while now so of course I didn’t like seeing anyone flirt with you or let alone talk like that to yo–” You said it so quickly, you barely breathed between the words. But even in her tipsy state, Aeri understood you perfectly

Before you could finish, Aeri stepped forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. Her lips crashed against yours, fierce and sudden, cutting off your words. The kiss wasn’t hesitant—it was full of the tension that had been building between you for weeks.

When she pulled back, she let out a soft, teasing breath. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“What?” you breathlessly asked, your eye wide

“I like you too, stupid,” she whispered, her lips brushing yours as she spoke. “For a while now too”

“Wait, what?” You blinked, trying to process what just happened

“Really?” You managed to get out

“Yes! You dumbass,” she smirked, her voice a low murmur. “Now shut the fuck up and kiss me again before I change my mind.”

Who were you to deny Aeri Uchinaga?

Maybe now she really did have plans to come over tonight.

#aeri uchinaga #aespa giselle #aespa #aespa giselle x reader #giselle x reader #giselle x you #aespa aeri #aespa x reader #aespa x you #giselle #aeri x reader #aeri uchinaga x reader #aespa x fem reader #aeri #kywrites

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yonch · 11 months ago

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it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

#isat #in stars and time #siffrin #siffrin isat #isafrin #isat game #postgame isat #loop #isabeau #mirabelle #odile #bonnie #boniface #spoilers are only under the read more #my drawings #etoile tag

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nationalanthcm · 3 months ago

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Gold rush | Robb Stark

𝜗𝜚 "what must it be like to grow up that beautiful? with your hair falling into place like dominoes"

summary: robb loves spending his time simply admiring his wife. he just loves her so much, he can't help it. and now that she's pregnant with their firstborn...he wishes he could spend every second of his days with her

pairing: robb stark x pregnant!wife!reader

genre: fluff

side notes: english is not my native language, so i apologise in advance for any grammatical/spelling mistakes. if you find any error, feel free to correct me as long as you keep it respectful of course. this is my ever first piece of writing, so don't expect it to be a masterpiece lmao

"i see me padding 'cross your wooden floors, with my eagles t-shirt hanging from the door" 𝜗𝜚

The bright afternoon sunlight entered the room through the windows, bathing her in a soft, incandescent glow, making her almost like an angel designed by the Gods themselves. Robb has been standing there for quite a while, leaning against the doorway, simply staring at her as she read on the bed the two of them share.

This is something he often does, he usually finds himself admiring his wife from afar, simply staring at her as he wonders how she could be so beautiful, not only on the outside, but on the inside as well, and how he could've gotten so lucky that her heart chose to love him back.

Robb had known the woman that would eventually become his wife since he was young, he was about twelve when his eyes first laid on her. She had been padding around Winterfell, just outside the castle walls, her hands holding some sort of flower bouquet. It looked messy, and so did she, her dress was dirty with mud and her hair was a bit tangled, but he had been captivated by her nonetheless. He remembers that day as if it was yesterday, he remembers the way her cheeks got tinted with the lightest shade of pink when he spoke to her...he remembers it all as if it had been just yesterday. They both cherish that day a lot and often look back to it, as it was the day where their story started.

His wife's gentle voice snaps Robb out of his thoughts and his eyes refocus on her shape. She's staring at him, her book placed beside her, one of her hands pressed on the tiny bump in her belly. Robb can't help but smile at the sight. Gods, she really is beautiful. How could she be this beautiful? Robb really believes he could spend the rest of his day standing there, simply admiring the way she looks, even more so now that, on her belly, rests their firstborn, Robb's future heir. He also remembers the day she told him the news very clearly. He had been over the moon to find out they were expecting a baby.

"Forgive me, my love, I didn't notice you. How long have you been standing there? Not for too long, I hope." She says, sounding a little apologetic.

Robb's already walking up to the bed, settling down beside her, his body facing hers. Now that she's noticed him, he doesn't have to stand so far away, he can enjoy her presence from up close. He loves these moments before dinner, where he can relax after a long day of duties, simply enjoying the company of the woman he loves.

"Don't worry, beautiful, it hasn't been long and I was enjoying the sight of you as always." He answers, his tone equally soft, one of his large hands going to rest on top of her belly.

The girl only laughs quietly at his words, her head coming to rest on Robb's shoulder. She's aware of how much he likes to simply stare at her. She lost count of how many times she found her husband entranced by the sight of her, quietly watching her in the privacy of their chambers.

"How are you today? Has the little one been bothering you much?" Robb asks her after a beat of silence.

His wife can only smile at that, tilting her head to look up at him. She finds it endearing how he worries so much for her well being. She's only three months along in the pregnancy, the babe doesn't even move yet, but Robb always asks about her comfort, wanting to make sure she's as well as possible. They've both always been like that...always checking in on each other, making sure the other was okay, even back when they were younger and only shared a sweet, innocent friendship.

"I'm alright, my love, nothing's been too uncomfortable for now. I think it's far too early for that...my baby bump is barely even showing." She reassures, looking down at her belly.

Her baby bump is in fact barely noticeable, but it's there. Robb loves it, he loves to see the way her body is slowly changing, adapting to the small life that's growing inside. He didn't think it possible, but Robb finds himself loving her even more, because now she's not only his wife, but also the mother of his child.

"That's good, our little one is well behaved, doesn't make his mother suffer." Robb says jokingly, laughing quietly at his own joke. "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

Robb knows it's still too early to know that for certain the gender of the babe, but he finds himself wondering about that often and he's sure his wife does too. The maester says they'll be able to find out the gender soon enough.

"I don't know, I honestly have no idea. My mother says that some women have some sort of instinct but...I have no idea. I'm hoping it's a girl, though."

"A girl?" Robb wonders. When he wonders about it, Robb finds himself secretly wishing for a boy, but he'd also be fine with the babe being a little girl, of course. He just wants the pregnancy to go smoothly and for the babe to be healthy.

"Yes, just think about it...I'd be able to dress her up in the prettiest gowns, braid her hair..." His wife rambles, her voice filled with affection.

Robb can picture her words clearly in his mind. It's an endearing thought...to picture his wife tending to their young daughter. That thought alone almost makes him change his mind fully and solely wish for a girl.

"...I'd also be fine with a boy, of course...though I suppose he'd spend more time with you, training with swords and all..." She continues.

That brings a smile to Robb's face. He'd love that, to have a son to spend time with, to train him and teach him everything his own father taught him.

"What about you? Boy or girl?" His wife asks him, now staring up at him again.

"I'm fine with either of the two, but I've been hoping it's a boy."

She hums in acknowledgment to his words, her body resting against his. A comfortable silence falls upon the two of them and she picks up her book. Reading has always been her favourite thing to do, according to her own words. Robb goes back to doing one of his favourite things as well. He admires her quietly, watching the way her brows furrow in concentration. Once again, he finds himself thanking the Gods for sending him such a blessing. He has a beautiful, gentle wife and a child on the way...life couldn't be sweeter.

#robb stark #robb stark x reader #nationalanthcm #game of thrones #robb stark x you #robb stark imagine

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burdenandacrop · 4 days ago

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˗ˏˋ ❝ italian leather sofa. ❞ ˎˊ˗

thank u to the wonderful @thecourtjester-e for being the reason this is being written, ur MIIIIND. this goes hand in hand with my cake AND schlatt obsession so ... does a twirl.

HEAVILY based on the song italian leather sofa by CAKE !

summary : for a schlatt & co video, your [ secret ] boyfriend decides to take you out shopping. showing off his douche-bag internet persona, unbeknownst to him; that was actually quite the turn on. with a little fashion show back at home, he shows you just how hungry he's been.

⋮ ⌗ ┆established relationship, secret relationship, schlatt is mean in this one, you're also decently famous!, dabbles in a bit of spoiling, power difference k!nk, degrading mixed with some praising, rough smut.

the bright luminescent lights were beaming across the designer store, your hands gently trailing through the racks of numerous dresses. you weren't used to this sort of environment, but it was very quickly becoming second nature to you. to the internet's eye, you were schlatt's acquaintance who was mostly just known for your face. the running joke was that you were his personal thumbnail over-user, considering every video the two of you did got millions of views. almost the amount that his reaction videos got, and this was on his second channel. surprisingly, not a whole lot of people suspected you to be a pair. rather just an unconventional duo, which kind of worked on your end.

he brought the camera back up to your face, making you smile and droop your shoulders with a grin. "these good enough for you miss socialite?" schlatt sneers out, you wished the viewers could see just how cocky he looked in the moment. "brought her here to the most expensive mall in new york, nothing too smancy." he adds on, turning the camera to his face to wink and smile, "cause you know, i can afford that." god he was so insufferable, in a good way surprisingly. he brings the camera back to you, anticipating for you to say something. "i just need a dress for my event." you snicker out, rolling your eyes and searching the racks yet again.

"and of course you had to come here for it, didn't ya?" he teases, you just shake your head and continue to search the racks. eventually pulling out a red silk dress. schlatt was hoping to god the microphone wouldn't pick up how his breath hitched when he saw it. his mind already reeling on how it'd look on you. "this one?" you ask, looking at the camera with a smile. shaking the hanger and awaiting for schlatt to do anything but gawk. a part of you almost wanting to turn the camera right around just to show the viewers how down bad he was. "yeah get the red, brings out your rosacea real nice." he bites back with a chuckle.

you scoff at him and rub your cheek, worried that it was visible to the camera how aggravated your skin might've been. "yeah, get a purple tux to match your eyebags, dickhead." you groan out, hoping to one up him. you knew the viewers loved the bickering, especially with your one liners. "i'll get a ralph lauren one and call it a day, can't say you can do that." he replies with a smile, he knew you had your own money but he liked to occasionally throw in that he was a smidge more successful.

"yeah i can't wear a tux, no shit schlatt." you roll your eyes and stow the dress back on the rack. almost sending him into a panic, "editor, cut this." he stammers before leaning the camera down for a moment. "keep it, i'm buying it." he practically chokes out. your head whipping back to him with a smile, nodding and stowing the dress in between your arm. you secretly loved how he insisted on things like that, was kind of hot in a way.

he sighs in relief and brings the camera back up with a smile, going right back to his persona. "gonna buy anymore or are you too low on cash for it?" he stated, knowing damn well he'd be leaving this store with a dent in his wallet. "i'll have to look and see." you sigh out, looking to him for a moment before looking back to the racks. "you're no sydney sweeney but i'm sure it'll suffice." he stifles out, making you side eye him as you were just about to pull out another dress.

"and you're not hugh jackman with those chops." you say as you roll your eyes, pulling out another silk dress, except it was black. "now what about this one?" you state as if you didn't just plain insult him, the both of you knew it was just for viewer attention. "it looks like people will only be looking at the dress, saves the trouble of looking at your face." he snickers out, you look at him with a groan. suddenly seeing his lips mouth the words 'keep it. that one too.' it was so hilarious to see the switch, you just wished the rest could see, but of course, they couldn't. "you're truly such a gentleman, mommy must be so proud." you gruffly reply, making him shrug with a smug grin. "that she is." he measly replies.

"see what i put up with for clicks? she's so ungrateful." he adds on, rotating the camera back to his face with a sigh. you shake your head as you eye another dress, the royal blue was catching your eye. "and it seems miss socialite has found yet another dress that's gonna bankrupt her." schlatt chuckles out, panning the camera back over to you as you show off the dress with a smile. "isn't the color so nice?" you ask with the same cavity inducing smile, knowing it'd probably be clipped all over twitter. whatever, as long as it brought money with it. which is almost always did. you watched as schlatt sweetly grinned with a nod, hidden from the view of the lens. "how much is it again?" he says as he reaches for the dress to hang his fingers to the tag.

his eyes widening as he realized it was a $3000 dress, looking back up to you with a grin. he zoomed the lens into the tag, then slowly panned the camera back to his face. his eyes bugging out with his brows furrowed in a comical look, quickly dropping it for a more serious expression, "i spend that in an hour, anyways." he deadpans, making you scoff at him and turn yourself away from him. he looks up from the camera to see your irritated stature and belts out a low laughter, turning the camera right back to you. zooming right into your head, picking up how your head was shaking as you continued to browse the racks. "somebody's sour about that fact." schlatt teases, making you spin your head back to him with narrowed eyes. he was so unserious.

"what's this- event even about anyhow?" he honeyed, at least the question wasn't half bad. you leaned against the rack, twirling the hanger as you thought of how to answer. "it's for this upcoming body-care line, very prestigious." you reply with a grin, feeling a bit prideful that you did get invited to something like that anyhow. "they just don't invite majorly successful people to advertise their products, got it." he pokes, making you nudge his shoulder with a groan. the comments from him were never ending; but so was a lot of other things. "what? you don't think i can be a good representative of smelly goods?" he snickers out, drooping his shoulders at you with a slight pout. "yeah, you totally could." your tone couldn't be any more sarcastic.

he softly pumped a fist in the air and panned the camera back to him, "that's what i thought." he stated, looking back to you with a knowing smile. the little look giving you a good idea of how his ego was far from being bruised. "now if she could go through with this faster- i can get my watch." he sighs out, shaking his head at you as you continued to scroll through the racks. "this is the kind of greed that they talk about in the bible." he adds on, earning a little chuckle from you. his switch off button was no where to be found.

"a lot of talk coming from you, y'know?" you breathily reply, the weight of the dresses getting to you as they restlessly laid on your arm. "i'm allowed to talk." he snapped back, he noticed how the weight of the dresses were getting you as you bobbed your arm up and down to try and balance it. "look, now she's getting all tired. see what internet notoriety does?" he jokes, turning the camera back to your state. "tell that to a mirror." you reply with a chuckle, making him nod. "oh i do, every damn day baby." his tone was unbelievably cocky. though, another part of you was asking; why were you really liking it? now what did that say about YOU?

the camera had already been recording for a good thirty minutes, he followed you around for a short bit more. getting all the funny banter that he would need for the video, he already knew they would eat it up. it was you after all, you were basically an infinite money glitch. yeah, he was mean as shit to you on camera. he just didn't want people to interfere with your relationship, especially when the cameras were gone. he knew if his viewers, particularly his male viewers, knew he bagged such a beautiful girl. he'd never hear the rest of it on twitter, so it seemed it was the smarter decision. plus, what man likes to share? especially not him.

he stowed away his camera with a smile, immediately gripping his hand around your waist as the two of you reached the check-out line. "you're out of your mind if you think you're wearing any of those to that promo event." he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you had a good five dresses in your arms, all together probably the amount that most people pay for a down payment on a bentley. "the black one's my favorite though." you whine out quietly, looking up into his eyes with a smile. "why do you think i don't want you wearing it out then?" he replies, his hands wandering up your back slowly. "just wear the blue one, cmon baby." he pleads. making you sigh and oblige to his request.

you knew exactly why he didn't want you wearing the black one, based on how you saw it was sewn. it'd look damn near painted on your figure, the blue one on the other hand was a lot more 'leave it up to your imagination' sort of deal. the two of you eventually made it up to the cashier, placing your dresses down as he checked the quality and the tag. "find everything to your expectations today, miss?" the cashier says as he begins to scan everything, his eyes a bit narrowed as he noticed the amount that was racking up. you fiddled your hands together in front of you, nodding to the cashier with a soft grin. "everything is to par." you felt so pretentious saying that, but you deserved it in a way.

you watched as the cashier raised his eyebrows to your reply, smiling to himself as he continued to scan the tags. his eyes almost lighting all the way up as the price continued to raise. you saw how his eyes wandered back to you, eyeing how your blouse sat on you. maybe a little too hard too, with a smile plastered on his face as he did so. schlatt let out a deep exhale, knowing it was loud enough to be a signal for him to keep his eyes where he needed them. if he wanted to keep them, that is. the cashier smiled and stood up more straight to eye the total, "$10,034.67, miss." he stated, almost not believing the price. schlatt watched how he was eyeing you, he was one to give second chances but he just blew that on how he was insistent on looking at you like that.

he took a step closer to the counter and leaned down slightly, just to throw it in the little cashier's face that he had a good six inches on him. cocky as ever, maybe some parts of the 'persona' were real after all. your eyes followed to him, noticing how irritated schlatt was getting to be. you knew you had to do something to get out of this, and pronto. you nervously smiled at the cashier before shuffling your hands to your purse, you couldn't imagine he was actually being serious about paying for all of this. that'd just be ridiculous. you felt his hand gently but strictly wrap around your wrist to halt your motion to try and grab your wallet. making you shoot your head back to him, "don't embarrass me like that." he says barely above a whisper. "you know i got it." he adds on with a sigh, pulling his wallet to whip out a black card of all his cards.

he used that card any chance he got, just to be annoying that he did in fact make that much. you watched as he handed it over to the cashier like it was nothing, looking back to you with a soft grin. "what?" he says as if he had no idea why you were looking at him like he had three heads. "douche." you roll your eyes with a smile. he shakes his head and leans his head down to reach you better, "you haven't seen anything yet." he whispers into your ear, you could practically hear the smug grin in his tone. the cashier carefully put all the dresses into the boxes, then slid into the bags. handing over the bag with a smile, "see you next time." he snarkily goodbyes, giving him a soft nod about to open your mouth to save the possibility of embarrassment. "oh you will." schlatt slyly replies before turning with you to leave, making sure to not let go of you for even a second. slightly tilting his head to eye the creep of a cashier, lowering his hand to your behind and nodding. he looked back to you and kissed the top of your head. was it prideful? yeah. did he care? no.

schlatt's head reeled back into the couch's leather, eyes closed as he impatiently waited for your little fashion show. the one that you insisted wasn't going to take long, now having him sit for a good 20 minutes to himself. wasn't your fault though, you were just intensely afraid you would tarnish the dress by putting it on too quickly. okay, and basically gawking at yourself in the mirror for way too long. let a girl live. schlatt opened his eyes and peered them over to the coffee table that had his brand new longiene watch that was sitting in it's neat little box.

"oh, what the hell." he groaned out, leaning over and picking up the small box. smiling to himself as he took it out of the case, draping it around his wrist to snap on. did feel quite nice to have three thousand on his arm, a little ego boost if you will. he twisted it on his wrist, leaning back into the couch with a sigh. "you almost done in there, hon?" he yelled out, spreading his legs out as he fidgeted with the settings on his new watch. you patted down your dress, knowing it was probably best you just escape your little narcissistic moment. for now at least. you took one last look in the mirror, swooshing your hair on your shoulder so you could get one last peak on how nice the backless effect was.

"in there in a sec!" you yelled back from the bathroom, letting go of your hair and smiling to yourself as you opened up the door to walk down the hallway. hoping you were going to get the reaction you were hoping for from him, maybe then the money would seem worth it. he cocked his head to the side as he heard your footsteps, a grin growing on him as he saw the first impressions of the dress. you grazed your hand along your hip as you made your way in front of him. "lil spin for me?" he asked with a smile, leaning back into the couch and crossing his arms. you nodded and twirled yourself around slowly. he licked the roof of his mouth as he watched every movement, deeply stuck almost.

you crossed your hands together behind your back as you stood in front of him, the look on his face alone told you all you needed to know. "it's even backless!" you excitedly state, turning your back towards him to show it off better. "if you don't sit your ass down." schlatt says as he shakes his head, gesturing for you to come over with his finger. you raise an eyebrow and slowly walk over to him, leaning down and letting your palms rest on the leather. purposely not giving him what he wanted right away. looking right into his eyes and titling your head to his just a smidge closer. "i take it you like the dress?" you whisper out, his hands reaching up to your ribs. "do i like the dress, huh?" he mocks back at you with a grin, letting his hands roam around under your breast. his eyes failing him as he looked at how your hips looked poking out.

he leaned his head back and looked up and down at you without shame, almost trying to convey his pleading with his eyes. you leaned your knee onto the leather, cocking your head to the side as you continued to move yourself onto the couch. schlatt's mind reeling as he could see the silk tightening around your hips. "i've already got hypertension, are you trying to make it worse?" he gruffly stated, his hands wandering down right above your hips as he helped you settle on his lap. you roll your eyes as you lean your hands on the edge of the couch, right above his shoulders. "you're so dramatic." you snicker out, adjusting the edges of your dress that were riding up. that little notion not making him the happiest.

his hands went right to your thighs to trail up the fabric, his chest slowly puffing as more and more skin showed. "this is more like it." he muttered, bringing his hands up to your shoulders to toy with the straps as he looked at you. "you don't think?" he added, expecting you to be vocal. he knew exactly what he wanted you to say, which was to admit how needy he was getting you. he could see it by how you gently squirmed under his touch, stroking his ego a little further. you slowly nod and adjust your hips above him, "yes, this is better." you sigh out. which earns him a little chuckle, raising his hand up to cup your chin. "there's the money." he practically seethes out, racing his free hand to your breasts to give them a firm squeeze. it was pretty hard not to.

his hand reaches up so he can gently tug down at the offensive fabric covering you, you arch your back a little to give him a better view. "you trying to say thank you?" he asks, tracing his finger along the silky straps. you softly hum and nudge your shoulders with a smile. "point taken." he adds, pulling down the straps and dropping his hand from your chin to fully engorge his hands to your breasts as the delicate fabric fell onto your stomach. "and no bra? you're just trying to get in trouble." he seethes out, involuntarily bucking his hips up as he looked up into your eyes. watching how the friction was affecting you.

he reaches his hand up to the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss, gently groaning as your lips meet. his other hand still grabbing a selfish amount of your breast into it. you grind in with his hips, making him deeply exhale and drop his hand to your ass to give a sharp slap. you knew exactly what he wanted, and you knew exactly how you were going to do it. he gently pulled back from your lips after a moment, looking up at you. "i'm kinda exhausted from today, baby." he states, letting his hand grip along your ass again. that didn't mean he didn't want to do it, just meant he wanted you to do all the work. perhaps as a thank you.

you softly nod and lean down to your knees, feeling his hands leave you as you felt your knees hit the hard wood. you could see his smile above you as you began fiddling with his belt, his jeans practically making a tent. unbuckling the belt and pulling it off slowly, knowing damn well he wasn't in the mood for anything that slow. it was just fun to be a bit of a tease sometimes. he trailed his hand to the top of your scalp, ruffling your hair gently as he looked down at you. "cmon baby." his voice cooed, you sigh and unbutton his jeans. letting the zipper come undone as you pulled down at them. being met with a rather aggressive hard on from him.

you looked up to him, his fingertips running through your hair as he smiled down at you. then dropping his hand down the side of your face, shaking his head as he ran a thumb along your bottom lip. "so pretty." he whispered, letting his hand drop to your chin as your hands fiddled with his boxers. his anticipation only growing further, but he wasn't satisfied just yet. he fluttered his eyes shut as he felt your mouth wrap around him, his hand shooting right back to your hair to grab a fistful. you paced yourself as you listened to his grunts coming from his stubbornly closed lips. he wanted so badly to just slam your head down, but right now; it felt way too good to mess anything up. he could afford the patience.

he kept his grip on your hair, his mouth gaping open as he looked down to the saliva mess you were creating from your tongue. he wasn't usually the biggest fan of messy sex, but today would just have to be an exception. bucking his hips slightly, causing you to accidentally slam your mouth around his base. even the gagging sound beginning to excite him a little too much. he liked the sound of struggle, knowing it was hard to keep up. he leaned his head into the leather and looked down to see your eyes glaring at him, even the gloss over your eyes made him want to bite back. "keep it up with your mouth and i'll give you what your hips are begging for." he choked out, his stomach twitching from underneath his shirt. he knew was cusping at the edge.

you felt your body warm up at his words, only making you give him a real show with your mouth. his grunts becoming incredibly obvious now, he wanted the real thing. he let you pump him for a few more moments before pulling your hair to unlatch your lips from him. watching as the saliva slowly dripped from your gaping mouth, snickering to himself. "uh-uh, i want you up here baby." he breathily stated, releasing your hair from his fist. he watched as you crawled back onto his lap with a shit eating grin. "hike it up for me." he added on, trailing his hands on your thighs as you curled up the fabric around your hips. he looked down to your underwear and shook his head, "off." he demanded, making you quickly pull of the couch for a moment to toss them off of you. quickly plopping back onto his lap, his eyes zoned on the new sight.

his fingers quickly moved under you to rub along your clit, smiling to himself as it immediately made an effect on you. "you like me spending all that money on you?" he asked, continuing his pace. you shakily nod, only able to respond in needy whimpers. "come on, answer me baby. or i'll have to stop rubbing on you like this." he snickered out, knowing he was going get the exact answer he wanted. "y-yes!" you choke out, bucking your hips with the movement of his fingers. "and you just love paying back, don't you?" he sighs out, looking down to his fingers. your hands grip along the edge of the couch, almost about to fall back. "you just get whatever you want, huh?" he adds on, biting down on his tongue as he fastened his pace along you.

his kept his eyes down, slowly trailing his fingers from your clit to your slit with a grin. "you want this, don't you baby?" he groaned out as he teased the tip of his finger on your slit. you looked at him and leaned forward, almost trying to push it inside yourself. "mm-mm, don't get shy now- if you don't say what you want, i can't give it to you baby. tell me." he seethed out, shaking his head softly at your impatience. "please- give it to me." you whimper out, progressively just getting more and more needy. with that, and a click of his tongue, he shoved one finger inside you. your eyes shutting as it reached fully inside. "already two?" you groan out, earning him a little chuckle. "it's just one for now, baby." your hips immediately pressing down into his legs as he curled his finger. it really was unbelievable just how nice the one felt.

he watched as your head flailed back to his motions, his free hand reaching up your chest. letting his fingers grip along your neck gently, making you fix your head back down. "show me that you want more, baby. i know a sweet- sweet whore like you can." he sneered out, letting his grip tighten along your throat slightly. your noises only growing more desperate as he curled his fingers right where it needed to be, your hips switching along him. he watched how your hips moved with ease, knowing how good it feel right on his dick; but he could be patient. this was more than worth it. "god- you fucking slut." he seethed out, popping another finger in as he smoothed out his pacing. "you deserved another one for that." he added on, pumping his fingers in and out.

you lean down and press your palm into his chest to stabilize yourself, huffing for air as he continued. he snickered to himself as he could see how quickly you were just giving in, bringing his free hand to cup your face as he kept his finger's pacing. "it's a miracle you can take my cock when you act like this with my damn fingers." he muttered, keeping his grip tight on your face. your eyes fluttering open and shut as he kept on, unsure on how much longer he could go with this before you would completely unravel. "got you in the palm of my hand, don't i?" he adds on, swallowing deeply and waiting for you to do anything but whine out. your hips begin to whine on his fingers, making him look down at the mess you were creating with yourself. "fucking yourself back with my fingers? show me how you really feel, hm?" he grunted out, smiling as he noticed how close you were to coming right on him.

slowly nodding with a grin as he noticed the immense relief that washed on your face, feeling your hips slowly come to a stop. he groaned and pulled out his fingers of you, settling both his hands now on your hips as he raised your body up. "my turn, yeah? only fair right?" he seethed out, your body was already so exhausted. you knew it'd be worth it though, adjusting the fabric of the dress before settling yourself on his dick. schlatt's hands gripping tightly into your hips as you pushed all the way down, a bit surprised you did it so quickly. no questions. just how he wanted you. you kept your hand on his chest as you bounced yourself, his eyes transfixed on how your breasts were bouncing with you. a part of him wanting to just completely take over.

he slapped his hand along your back, causing you to fall right where he wanted you. running his fingertips into your back as he latched his lips onto your breast, lapping his tongue the best he could with your rapid bouncing. his eyes closed as he focused on sucking down on you, enjoying every last moment. roaming his hand along your back as he pulled you in close, smashing every inch of your flesh against his face. his other hand giving a sharp slap on your ass as you were reeling him in more and more. choking out a yell, only encouraging you to keep your vigorous pacing on his cock. your arms wrapping along his shoulders as you wailed out, schlatt's body stiffening as he felt your insides tighten around him. unable to control himself, his lips letting go of your breasts. his head falling to the back of the couch, all he could do was look at you and pant. it couldn't be more perfect.

you were so drowned in the pleasure, you didn't even realize how intense you were going. oh but he knew, letting out a low groan as you continued. his eyes failing to keep open, but he needed them open so he could see how good your tits looked while you bounced so desperately. almost like your life depended on it. his hand trailed up your sides, the dress had basically became a hip cover at this point. the only thing you could hear from him was a few 'fucks' and 'shit's underneath his breath, watching him beneath you as he struggled to keep himself together. "god- don't let me stop you now." he groaned out, bucking his hips to meet with yours as your pacing began to lessen. looking up into your eyes as he noticed how tired and shaky your legs were getting.

finally having enough, just wanting to rummage every bit inside of you. grabbing onto your sides and bucking his hips up and down, a pace you couldn't do if you tried. he smiled as he watched your lips fall agape, you really were just letting go. just for him. he'd be lying if he said that's not what he wanted. "come on. let go." he stifles out through his grunts, giving you another rash slap to the ass. "this is exactly what you wanted, hm?" he adds, looking up to you and expecting an immediate answer. he noticed the side of your ass reddening, only exciting him further to do it again. "answer me." he grunts out, practically branding your ass with his palm. you yelp out and grip onto the edge of the couch to not complete fall over, "g-god yes!" you shakily whimper out, huffing in and out.

he flails his head back and continues to mindlessly pump into you, almost choking on his breath as he climaxes. slowing down his pacing as he lets it fill inside, rubbing his hands around the raised up skin on your hip. the heat radiating off his palms. "you wanna show me the other dresses?" he snickers out, trying to catch up with his breaths. running a hand through his hair with a smile, you groan and pull yourself off of him. almost stumbling on your own movements, "if that's what you want." you huff out, watching as he began to pull up his boxers. "what? scared of round two?" he stifles out, sitting up more upright as he watched you fix yourself back up. you roll your eyes with a grin as you pull up the straps of the dress, his grin growing as he's reminded just how good you look.

you peel up the fabric up to cover up your breasts, wincing as you try to move your hips. the silk pairing perfectly with your dampened skin, and he was well aware of how beautiful it looked. "yeah. i'm taking you back to that store soon." he mutters, eyeing you up and down. "you've made it clear it's worth it."

author's note : i think this was the most excited i've gotten off a one shot idea, maybe Ever. perhaps it's because it's based on one of my favorite CAKE song, but none the less @thecourtjester-e is a mastermind and i appreciate the patience and creativity that was helped put into this. so PLEASE check them out !! 💌 their new series is one of my personal favs and i'm sure it will be yours too :,))

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #fanfic #rpf #jschlatt smut

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sweetflanfiction · 8 days ago

Text

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 13

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: I'm back!!! Some trigger warnings: death mentioned and some medical stuff (probable inacuracies).

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12

• ··········· • ············ •

The council met two days after Jayce found Viktor and yourself inside the closet. Two long days of having the big, broad man teasing both of you to hide his own anxiety.

At the beginning of the second day, in the afternoon, Jayce, Viktor, Esther, and most of the investors your mother had rallied had been called to the brightly lit council chamber. You, however, were barred as soon as you tried to get in, the enforcer by the door giving you a sardonic grin when he placed a hand on your shoulder and gently pushed you away. Your mother was about to protest, but you shook your head and watched the double doors close on you.

With a sigh, you walked back to the lab. You took your time, pleasurably walking around the Academy until you arrived at your destination.

The glove came off as soon as you got to the lab's floor, and the door unlocked with a flick of your wrist, the rune spoken without thinking about it.

The lab was mostly clean, and you knew that it was because of the council's constant inspection that it had been organized. You sat on Viktor’s worktable, careful not to disturb anything. He had some books on magic scattered with his own notes and writing utensils. After a few minutes of twirling around on his stool, you thought your time would be better spent learning about your power.

The books had different thicknesses and a variety of covers. Some looked antique, leather-bound, and gold-foiled, while others looked more modern with hardcovers and simpler designs. One caught your attention, mostly because Viktor had left a note stuck on it with your name underlined.

'Read!'

The small couch behind the blackboard seemed like the perfect place to read it. Pushing the blackboard out of the way, you grabbed Viktor’s blanket and sat down.

The inventor had already read the book, you noted by the little remarks he had added in little sticky notes.

‘More than one language?’ ‘Prefixes and suffixes. Try.’ 'Curse words? Cursing runes?’ 'Are the runes a foreign language?' 'Do runes have accents?'

You laughed quietly at the annotations. Sitting quietly in the lab was always a peaceful experience. The muffled sounds of the people in the corridors and the soft whooshing of airships going around were soothing. Familiar.

Time ticked by as you read until you found yourself closing your eyes at the words. Shaking your head, you decided to try some new things with the runes.

If runes were similar to words, then they could be combined to make sentences. You looked around the room for inspiration, and your eyes fell on the locked hex-core storage. You knew the cores and gems were either in the council chamber or in Heimerdinger's locked office, now a sort of secure room since he had disappeared.

Not waiting for someone to walk in on you with a blue hand, you grabbed Viktor's colored sticky notepad and wrote the 'unlock' and 'move' rune. Before you could flick the rune with a finger, the locked door slammed against the wall.

“That’s new…” You frowned, determined to try and close the door and lock it from where you sat.

You made the moving rune again, added the little coda signal next to it, and pulled. The door closed with a click. Still unlocked, though.

It didn't take you long to go through half of the notepad trying to decode what you should add to relock the door, and nothing worked.

“Fine…be that way…” you grumbled as you got up and walked to Viktor’s shoulder bag on the coat hanger, grabbed his lab keys, walked to the door, and locked it. As you were walking back from dropping the keys back in the bag, the lab's door opened. For a moment you were confused, not having used any magic, but then Viktor’s handsome face peeked through.

“I thought I told you not to enter the lab without supervision.” He warned without menace in his voice.

“According to my mom, I own 2% of this lab, and I decided that this couch is just that. My 2%.” You joked, getting back to the warmth of the blanket on the couch.

He walked inside, closing the door as he made his way to you, a mocking, pensive expression on his face.

“I guess that is fair. Still does not explain why you are inside the lab.” He got to the couch and moved his index finger around, mentioning the room. "Unsupervised."

“Well, I need access to my 2%, don’t I?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically and sat next to you, leaning his cane on the arm of the couch and his shoulders on the back of it. Without thinking, you covered his legs with the wool blanket, patting his knees.

Viktor looked at you with a raised eyebrow, and you shrugged, trying to look nonchalant at the friendly move.

“Has the council session ended?” You asked, clearing your throat and closing the book. He shook his head. “Shouldn’t you be there?”

“Whenever Salo starts throwing personal jabs at me about where I’m from, I know whatever discussion was being had is over.”

“Yeah… stain on the hexgate floor…” you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows. “And how did the discussion end?”

“The council agreed to let the Tallis Lab operate as is... under supervision for a while, but they aren’t going to interfere with it.” He played with the hem of the blanket and shook his head. “Esther was a force of nature in that room tonight. For a moment I thought she was going to start casting runes and making the table float.”

You snorted and leaned against the arm of the couch, looking at his profile. Viktor always had a striking profile, with high cheekbones and a sharp jaw.

“Did she ever tell you how we became friends?” He looked at the opposite wall, and you shook your head, making a negative sound.

“All she told me was that you and she had similar interests.”

“About… mmm… 11 years ago, before Jayce and Hextech, Professor Heimerdinger thought it was a good idea to give the engineering students something creative to do. So he asked Esther to come and give our analytical little brains some writing classes.”

“Aren’t you an inventor, though?” You tilted your head sideways to lean against the back of the couch; he nodded.

“I still think in numbers... It's different…Anyway, she would teach one class every two weeks. At first, I did not enjoy it; I could be studying or working, but at some point, I started to like it. My brain would go to these faraway places and imagine all of the things that, back then, were impossible. At some point your mother let us know her opinions of the Undercity, and after class, we spent a good two hours just speaking about it.”

“She does like to talk.” You joked, and he looked at you smiling.

“That she does, especially if she likes the subject. For one whole year, every two weeks I would be the first one in and the last one out. Sometimes she would let me read some of her manuscripts and ask for an honest review; other times I let her read my own school papers.”

“Wouldn’t that be cheating? Having an actual writer proofread your papers?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I was an Undercity boy, with an Undercity accent and a limp. I was taking any help I could get.” He shrugged, and you snorted. “One day she didn’t show up. I asked Professor Heimerdinger, and he said something awful had happened to her and her family.”

Immediately you straightened up, eyes wide in curiosity. If his math was correct, and it was, this was about the same time engraved on the stone at the cemetery.

“I knew she had a husband and a child about my age. There was never an opportunity for me to meet them, but still, whatever had happened, I wanted to show my solidarity. So, poor young Viktor walked all the way to the penthouse, and once he got there, Voltaire told poor young Viktor she was at the Skyward Clinic."He sighed, looking at his hands, flexing and relaxing his long fingers. "A trolley had derailed. Her husband had died on the route to the clinic. Her child seemed to be in a very precarious state.”

The buzzing in your ears started to drown out anything but Viktor's particular speech pattern. The corner of your eyes started to tunnel around him. Your breathing started to become elaborate as you tried to hide your restlessness.

It had never seemed to be the right opportunity to ask your mother how it happened. She had mentioned the accident but never in specifics, and you respected her need to keep it to herself. People grieve in their own way.

Your father could never pass by the hospital your mother had died in, even though he would make generous donations to it. But he would always take the long way if the quickest path passed by it.

“I had little money to spend on frivolous things like trolleys, so I walked all the way back to Skyward…” He made his fingers do a little walking motion in the air.

“That’s on the opposite side of the city.”

“It is.”

“And you walked there?”

“I did.” He nodded, his own eyes focusing on something on the floor, his mind tracing the memory.

“Your leg... your back...” You were about to start to complain about his recklessness, but he snorted.

“My lungs.”

“Your lungs?” This was the first time he had mentioned them.

“They took the brunt of my stupidity and my lack of funds." He gave a humorless snort and took a deep breath. "Everything collapsed as soon as my brain figured out how much strain I had put on my body."

He tilted his head to you but didn't look up from whatever it was that he was focused on on the floor.

"Do you know what the gray is?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Do you know what it does after long-term exposure to it?"

The question wasn't out of the blue, because of the subject being discussed and the person it was being discussed with. However, it hit you like a rush of cold water. You didn't know what it did personally, but you'd seen it on someone else. You'd seen it on his other dimension twin.

"Yes." You couldn't look at him.

"The respiratory system starts to rot. According to the doctors, I would be dead in about five to six years. But Esther…”

You remembered the day your Viktor had announced his own diagnosis. He had used those exact words, but the years were shortened to months.

That day had been seared into your brain. The way his voice sounded so strong and yet so broken, and he hadn’t allowed you to shed a single tear, even though they were flowing. ‘Save them for when I’m gone.’.

Your eyes filled with unshed tears now that he wasn't here to see them fall.

“I don’t know how, or even when, but I distinctly remember your mother holding my hand and crying by my bedside table. She said to me..." He cleaned a tear of his own, with the tip of his fingers. “She said nobody else’s child would be dying that night.”

It was like the air in your body had been sucked out. It held in your throat as your eyes widened.

“The doctors said we were a perfect match." He sighed, his eyebrow furrowing. "From blood type to size to the age of the donor. The chances of my body accepting the donated organ were above 80%. And Esther allowed it. And I survived.”

You gasped and followed his hand, which was now tracing a line of his diaphragm gingerly.

“There’s a scar right here…” He tapped his fingers in the lower part of his chest. “A reminder that death is sometimes inevitable for life to happen."

Viktor sniffled, closing his eyes, his hand still on his chest as it rose and fell with each breath.

"After that, we became inseparable. I will never be able to thank her for what she did, and if there is ever anything I can do to repay it, I will do it.”

There was silence now in the lab. The words he had spoken kept swimming freely in your head, fading into images of another Viktor coughing up blood and slowly succumbing to his illness.

You felt your body move on its own accord, your mental state not providing the necessary filters for you to stop yourself.

Viktor jumped when he felt your palm on top of his, on his chest, but didn't move away. You felt his breathing even out and even felt his little sniffles.

“You’re not dying.” You whispered more to his other self than this one, as if somewhere in the other timeline your Viktor could hear you.

“I am not.” Viktor whispered back, moving his hand so your own was flat against the fabric of his uniform.

You touched his shoulder with your forehead, a hand still on his chest, and you sobbed. There was sadness and anger and happiness and confusion; it was a convoluted mix of emotions that you couldn’t stop.

You were ecstatic that this Viktor was free from his impending doom, but you felt like your heart was breaking because your Viktor, the one you had loved and lost, could have been saved, could have had this.

Hindsight was indeed 20/20. This type of procedure has never been given a thought. Although something told you the Viktor you knew would never go for it. He had already accepted his fate. His death.

You kept asking yourself: Had you known then what you know now, not just about the Herald but about the possibility of you giving him a chance, would you accept it? Would you give your life for him? If you could?

Sadly, you didn’t know the answer to that. In a second of insanity, you just might, but if you had more time to think, the answer was not as clear.

And that confused you and angered you.

You noticed his hand on top of your own, his thumb gently stroking the back of it. You stiffen, finally realizing where and how you were placed. Half on top of his torso, your forehead on his shoulders, hand on his chest.

Quickly you moved your body away from his.

“Sorry…I... You tried to clean your face with the back of your hands.

“It is expected. Aside from this..." He pointed to the hand he still held on his chest, and you quickly moved it away. "Jayce's reaction was sort of the same...”

“Sorry…It’s…huh…hard, I guess.”

“Matters of life and death often are.” He looked at you, his eyes softening.

Your mind jumped to when you asked if she would choose you or Viktor in case of need and how her answer was immediately him. Since the subject was saving Piltover, it made sense she didn’t hesitate, but now…now you understood it more deeply. He had a part of her child in him. She would save him not just because of the future but also because of what he meant to her.

“Esther... she...” you said, accepting the burgundy handkerchief he was offering you. “She's very brave...”

Viktor smiled brightly even if his cheeks still had tears in them, and you did the same, seeing him as a completely different person for the first time since you got here.

Nature made them equal; nurture made them opposites.

• ············ •

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked your mother as soon as you were both alone in the penthouse.

“About?” she asked, going around the kitchen, having decided at 11 at night to make cupcakes.

“Viktor and the surgery.”

She stopped abruptly and looked at you as you sat quietly in the breakfast nook of the kitchen. You made a conscious effort not to show or sound angry, because you weren’t.

“I…Did he tell you that?” You nodded, and she leaned her hip into the counter, looking at a point in the distance. “It was a burden that I didn’t think you’d need.”

She sighed, coming to sit on the opposite side of the table with a deep breath.

“Sometimes I still struggle with the decision I made. My child was gone, and he was there, lying on a hospital bed filled with tubes and machines, and…it became such an easy decision to make back then… I sometimes wonder if she would think less of me because of that...”

“I’m sorry.” You grabbed her shaking hand after a few minutes of silence. “I…don’t know if it means anything, but…as your child from another dimension, I don’t think I could ever think less of you.”

Esther smiled at you and extended a hand to touch your cheek. You took a deep breath and waited. Her touch was warm and gentle, her thumb stroking the top of your cheekbone, and you felt a kiss on your knuckles.

“Thank you, my dear. It means the world to me.” She whispered.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies

#arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #slow burn #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane x you #arcane characters #arcane reader

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taelophone · 4 days ago

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Soft Feminine˚࿔ ⋆˙⟡ — Luigi Mangione x Reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆TWs: None! Its fluff of luigi fixing your childhood music box lol ˚｡⋆A/N: This was written as an allegory for something!! If you catch it please lmk id be so so happy <33

The slow silence filled the room, pardoned by the occasional shift of clothing or the clinks of Luigi sorting the things on your nightstand. It was a quiet night with your boyfriend, simply enjoying each other's presence while engaged in silent conversation.

His hands whirled around the slowly recovering nightstand, The lids to the foggy glass candle jars and the clutter slowly finding their native places as he worked his magic. Soon enough, your nightstand was clear, bothered only by your lamp, room spray, a mini succulent, and your flamingo-pink Laneige sleep mask.

When Luigi finished bringing order to your nightstand, he glanced at you momentarily. No reason in particular, just to bask in your features as you scrolled on the cyber-white hue of your phone.

He smiled, overcome with warm and fiery sparks of affection. He wanted nothing in the world to ever raise a finger at you in challenge— if so, he’d gladly break it just to deem himself your hero.

When he was done staring at you, he patted your head affectionately as you lay stationery in your bed, relishing in the warmth of your smile. He whisked away from your nightstand, making his way to your vanity as he began sorting that as well.

While you listened to the glass and metal clinking over by the far corner of your room, you turned off your phone to stare up at the ceiling. Today had been a long, long day.

You longed to continue to lay down and embrace your boyfriend with rampant lovelorn. Maybe even accompanied by some soft and quiet…music!

Music! Your music box! Oh, he can fix it!

“Lui, babe?” You spoke, shattering the fragile silence.

“Yes, my love?” He answered, tilting his head slightly in your direction but not taking his eyes off of the things he continued to put away.

“You’re an engineer, right?” You inquired, crunching your torso to bring your body up, sitting criss-cross on top of your soft comforter.

“Depends…what are you asking me to fix? I can’t do appliances” he joked with a light smile and a boyish giggle. Cute little cornball.

“Nothing too serious…I have a music box that I’ve had since I was like…a baby. Can you take a look? It broke sometime after I turned nine, but I never got it fixed” You murmured, shuffling over to the end of your bed and leaning over the foot of your bed frame.

With your brushes, blushes, and plushes sorted at your vanity, Luigi broke his structuring trance to take a look at the little music box you began to pull from under the depths of your bed. Aged with hospitality, pink with youth, and loved with adoration, the ballerina-esque porcelain wind-up contraption presented itself in your hands.

Gold embellishments, blush roses, and shimmery gloss drew attention to the little ballerina on the front of the design. Her figure was just like you, only donned with a white tutu and bodice as she sat with her ankles crossed.

“It’s really old so it might just be an age thing, but I really wanna see if it can be fixed. I loved it so much growing up I just don’t wanna let it go” you said with a nostalgic chuckle.

“It looks really pretty! Can I see?” He gently asked, walking over to the front of your bed and extending both of his hands to seek out permission for the piece.

You nodded, carefully and cautiously handing him your innocence with benign hands. He seemed to examine it, get a feel for the material under his fingertips before he carefully flipped open the little lid to reveal the swan and the woman standing atop a pink pedestal.

He gave it a few winds, listening for any potential clicks along the way as he was met with a suspicious amount of loosened compliance. Normally it would give some sort of pressure or noise if it was working properly, but he seemed to have already figured out the problem.

“Okay…I think I know what the issue is. I’m gonna have to take this apart, baby” he stated, closing the little box with a satisfying click. “I know what I’m doing, I promise, I just don’t want you to panic. I have to take it apart to see its anatomy, and that’ll give me a better understanding of what’s wrong…is that alright with you?”

Your eyes widened with slight fear, ‘what ifs’ flooding the pipes in your mind while your heart rate spiked. This was his job, yes, and he spent a good portion of his life assembling things and putting them together.

But there’s always a possibility, and there’s never a zero. It’s okay to be afraid of accidents, and it’s ok to keep an open mind, but where do you go if something goes wrong?

What if he breaks it further? Snaps the lid off with unmonitored strength, shatters the neck of the swan with a grip that went unchecked for too long, cracking the perfect porcelain.

Could you get it fixed then? Would your childhood pride be lost at the hands of the one you love the very most? How would you cope when the sound of shattered glass pierces your ears followed by a gasp of alarm?

“Love.”

You looked at him, half-aware of the grip you now had on your music box. The wrinkles in your knuckles as your fingers wrapped around the heavy relic.

You hadn’t realized how hard you had been holding on, to both your breath and your childhood. There was nothing to fear as long as it was in his hands— he would treat every part of you with the same tender and merciful hands he had held you with time and time again.

“Yeah…okay,” you nodded, handing him the music box with a silent swallow of anxiety.

His eyes softened. An empathetic and understanding wiggle in his brows as he leaned over, and kissed the top of your head with a hand behind your neck. Brief and intimate.

“Thank you for trusting me” he promised.

You smiled, nodding your appreciation as you crossed your arms.

“All of my tools and mechanical equipment should be in my closet in a white clear box. It should have blue painter's tape on the lid.”

“Awesome,” he said, placing the music box down on the empty vanity before he traversed into the depths of your closet. Rustling and jostling of clothes, shoes, perfume bottles, and unboxed accessories echoed through the silence, aches of impending doom and lingering hope gnawing at the side of your neck.

When he emerged with the clear box of tools, he sat them on the side of the white desk, flipping the music box upside down to see what type of screwdriver he’d need. When he had everything he needed, he took his time, hands cradling and supporting every inch of delicate glass.

Unscrewing each screw, tender love and hospitality possessed his hands as he took it apart. Piece by piece, little by little.

Everything was on display for him, unfiltered in its purest form. Now that he had seen each piece of the machine and what makes it turn, he quickly identified the problem and its solution.

With expert hands carrying endless wisdom, he reconstructed the feminine melodic music like he was the very man who invented the machine. And in no time, he had the ballerina and her swan spinning on her pedestal of high confidence again.

He wound up the handle, the now familiar pressure and sounds of approval reaching his ears with smug approval. He knew what he was doing, and he’d always be there to prove it to you.

“Done!” He smiled, flipping the music box closed and giving you a wave of nostalgia and gratitude.

When he approached your bed once more, he climbed on top of it and plopped himself down beside you. He kissed your forehead again, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you beamed with joy.

“No way, thank you so much! I literally love you,” you gasped, winding up the machine, the familiar melody of Swan Lake ringing through chimes and twinkles as the little ballerina began to spin slowly in the confines of her box.

“Anything for you.”

#luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione x you #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione thoughts #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione x yn #CEO Shooter x Reader #the adjuster x reader

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kooyabooya · 4 months ago

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SECRETS & SPELLS

m reader x kazuha ; sakura // 14k words

“Really,” and you’re saying this with the most unimpressed look on your face, knowing Sakura’s bullshit could never get to you that easily, “And here I thought we had something special going on between us,” you tell her with a gesture of a hand, signifying the rapport.

She laughs at that, because deep down you’ll put up with her antics in the end either way. Whether it would be spilling a few drinks down her throat or splitting her open until the crack of dawn breaks into the horizon, you’ll get the last say before she does. Always.

“Do tell,” says Sakura, “Besides, you’ve got my number on speed dial.”

It’s actually a pretty funny thing how the sacred law of attraction works in these kinds of scenarios; at least, that’s what you’ve learned when Sakura barged into your life from completely out of nowhere. This might come off as unexpected: you’re the TA for one of the design courses, and Sakura happened to be one of the top students in the class with the highest probability to break through into the fashion industry come post-grad.

And at every turn since the beginning of the semester, she has managed to impress you amazingly.

Everything’s all lighthearted at the first meeting - the usual buzz about this stellar connection you have with Sakura - and she feels the same sentiment. The feedback is subtle; the compliments start to pile on one another; you’re noticing features in her appearance that might be falling into the obvious scope of things, but you take note of them either way.

Wasn’t that long until you’ve mustered up the courage to treat her out after she came to you for additional advice and pointers and such from one of her personal projects. Although the first date was an absolute train wreck to your standards, she was willing enough to come back around for more.

One meeting happens again, and another.

Then the next one.

And the next one.

The weeks start to mesh together aside from all the usual routines and responsibilities filling up your schedule and calendar. But you’ve managed to set time aside whenever possible because that’s all part of having fun with someone like her. And sure, you’re waiting for that Friday to hit every time because it relieves you of anything for a short period; it’s also safe to say that you’re not the only one.

So you learn a lot of things about Sakura. More ways than you would like.

And it’s not even worth blaming the lowered inhibitions due to the alcohol. A test drive of sorts, the natural course of thoughts coming out from your brain and channeling that to your words and actions whenever you’re around her, there’s that appreciation in the honesty - wondering where has this girl been all your life?

Because Sakura falls in a lot of ways. Ways that you would never have expected:

“For one thing,” you’re telling her while being roped deeper into the club by her hand, “I don’t think the number 1-800-hot-n-fun was a viable one to go with, by the way.” She twists her head around once getting past the foyer, opening up from the inside to scattered crowds spaced away from the dance floor. As expected for a Friday night to no surprise - the thrumming of your eardrums in response to the overpowering bass proving a clear struggle in terms of discernibility.

“Do I have to remind you again?” Sakura tells you, loosening the grip as you’ve managed to get in close proximity, unfazed when your body is practically on top of hers, passing through the crowd, “We’re doing that thing with Miss ‘you - know - who’. Unless you’re asking me to just leave your ass back in the apartment, but oh wait - you're already here with me as it is.”

“Sure.” And that’s how things like these usually go with her: you’ll be doing one thing, then the familiar contact on your phone pops up on your lockscreen. Some days you’d drop whatever you were doing in a heartbeat - if it was willing to kill time or procrastinate, she’d know your answer already. “Drop the code name. You’re not being really inconspicuous with-”

“Kazuha? But it fits the profile perfectly!” She’s beaming, exchanging a few glances with some regulars hovering outside the dance floor, her face lighting up with wide eyes andan open an open mouth.

“But seriously,” you say, and with as much sarcasm that you could pull out of your ass, “I thought that was a one-time thing with her.” Sakura rolls her eyes, spearheading to one of the booths on the far end of the dance floor, secluded in a suspicious corner where no one else would end up unless being escorted off with enough shots in their system to do so in the first place.

And you learn - with Sakura, nothing is ever a one time thing with her. Ever. She brought you into a trap, the kind where you couldn’t even get out of if you tried.

Like all necessary cues for an entrance, this one doesn’t really have a notable introduction since you’re the one that’s interested without actually saying it explicitly. The lone girl sitting in the booth catches your eye, spacing out with the colorful floating lights occasionally hitting her face as she appears to be breaking a sweat despite her stoic expression.

She looks nervous, probably flustered at the fact that she’s even in the dance club considering how flushed her face looks without the color. You look over to Sakura, to which she smiles with her eyes, already feeling the stage being set for what’s to come.

“You sure you want to leave this as a one - off?” She asks, combing down some of her hair while waving at the girl in the booth. “Think of this as a chance to redeem yourself with her - her - I mean, me.”

“Not everything has to be about you. Acting as the lynchpin when you also want to join in on the fun as well.”

Sakura nicks her head, that prying grin coming at the corner where you can’t see it up front. She studies your features, the way your face crinkles at every remark or sly comeback that leaves her lips, priming those synapses ready and raring for how she wants this night to go. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen. It worked last time, and it’ll work again.”

With all thoughts considered, it all leads to one inevitable conclusion:

“I’d love for you to work her over again, like you did before,” she husks, lazily placing her lips along the line of your jaw. The nerve ends down your neck and spine tingling at the contact as your feet move along with hers, approaching closer to the lone girl waiting at the table, locking irises and noticing her pulled lip. “And just for your information, she’s so into you.”

“Are you sure it’s not the other way around with him?” Kazuha butts in, sliding over a subtle appetizer of some casual chips and assorted dips; the duo of Arnold Palmers is also quick to follow soon after. “I mean, you’re the one who likes to kiss everybody, Sakura.”

“Not true,” she rebukes. “But I-”

“If you want to test that theory,” you’re telling the both of them, smiling with eyes trained alternating on looks, sipping a bit of the beverage down, “I think both of you would be convinced to take this somewhere that allows more misbehavior to happen.”

It’s not that you’re not able to remember the events of last night. It’s the fact that you can’t remember what took place last night at all.

Though your memory starts to stir back to normal at the floating pair of lips hovering over and around your face in the late morning going into the afternoon.

You’re squinting from the overbearing light that breaks through the curtains and and the ambient sounds of traffic in the distance from the open window. There’s also the realization that the mobility in your body is severely hammered, and with good reason.

A look up past the sheets, and it’s a body pressed next to yours, sprawled with an arm and leg thrown over your thigh and stomach, still trying to be mindful in care not to wake you. She looks up at you with doe eyes before fluttering them shut and nestling deeper into the side of your chest, rubbing her hand across the more she gets comfortable.

“About time you woke up,” she mumbles, giggling at you, plopping your head back onto the pillow. “I was wondering if you were actually dead or something, not that I would be worried of course.”

“And if I was?” The question alone is alone is rhetorical as it sounds, blinking up towards the ceiling while adjusting your body meshed into the mattress and in between the sheets, “I feel like you could’ve put in a little more effort to, well, bring me back to life.”

This girl then sits up, lets the comforter trickle down to her waist, exposing her breasts; the marks still apparent from the night prior, serving to be a good kickstarter for your memory now that most of the alcohol should’ve subsided by now. “Maybe I should’ve put more effort into that, the same way that you handled us,” she tells you, “God, you really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”

“Sakura,” you say, and you’re calling her out with a soft laugh bubbling beneath your stomach.. “I’d hate to be honest with you, but I can’t even remember the amount of drinks we had at the place. That’s how you know it’s bad if you were in my shoes.”

“But you were still sober enough to dick me down after a long week?”

You don’t give an answer to Sakura’s question, but the way her actions do the talking should already say enough: placing kisses on your shoulder, shuffling herself closer to you, hand slithering to a certain spot where it’s also jogging your memory.

“Sweetie,” you tell her, a dragged - out sigh leaving your lips once Sakura’s practiced fingers start to touch down around your half-hardened cock. “You wouldn’t mind helping me remember what we did last night, right?”

Well, of course, she’d say, but instead she laces that phrase in the form of a kiss. Knowing her, she’d be willing to assist in whatever it is that you do. A transactional service: you do one thing for her and she’d do the same. And the repayment could really come in a handful of methods, but this one usually takes top of the list.

“I don’t,” Sakura answers, giggling softly when you’re trying to push for more, leaning your head to meet her lips, her pulling away just to play a little tease. “As much as I would love to help you, I can’t be the only one to do all the work around here. It tarnishes your gentlemanly appearance, but that’s what I think.”

You pull one of her legs up, shifting her closer to you when she has her lips working you again, hand twisting deliberately around your cock. The pace alone is strategic and slow, but very well practiced and methodical, licking up her palm to ensure she’s soaking up the sensitive surface in every spot possible.

She also takes the hint with the sliding hand up her waist, straddling over your thighs to where you’re almost pinned against the headboard, grip still apparent around your shaft, keeping steady the more she scooches her hips up beneath your groin. You get lost in the valley of her waist, the defined abs well deserved from the hard work in the gym, the gaze she possesses with those lovely, messy locks in her hair, the pure seductiveness with her hand grazing her breast. You’re being pulled back in with another intoxicating kiss, filled with so much care and and love, and all of that to be replaced with undesirable lust that seems to entrap both of you like the heavenly light breaking through the thin curtains in your room.

The taste, the scent of her - still present from last night’s tales - are another reminder and trick for your mind to work around against the lingering after effects of the alcohol.

“Is it working?” She asks, holding herself just above your length with hands fast around your neck, “Or do you still need some help getting your memory up to speed?”

Sakura then reaches over to the nightstand, a Polaroid captured in between her pointer and middle finger, eyes slanted along with her face, watching you examine the picture in the small snapshot. Another fragment is obtained through this, internalizing the appearance of her marked - up body sprawled up on the same bed you’re lying in, with another body next to her but the face isn’t shown.

Just as you’re about to say your answer, she catches you by surprise, the press of her lips on you again, hips jumping up in impulse when her pussy settles on top of the underside of your shaft, hands naturally trained to her hips as the slow pecks eventually become more inviting, passionate.

Maybe the home remedies would’ve been a sufficient option to cure your hangover, but with Sakura, she herself is the best kind of morning after pill that you’ll take the chance over if the opportunity presents itself like it has right now. Her kisses become more intoxicating, hoping that you’ll want her in the same fashion that she’s emitting - a being that’s blessed with a wanting so addicting, it’s impossible to think twice about it. Your mouth makes its way down the fine column of her throat and then to her chest, marking up the same spots as you did the night before, tugging onto one of her stiff nipples with your teeth.

The grip in your hair with her fingers starts to become tighter, forcing her body onto you more. She holds you there, cheek pressed to the crown of your head, the moans proving to be positive feedback for you, grinding her hips slightly over your cock, making your grasp more protective of her, as if you didn’t want her to leave your presence whatsoever.

She captures your lips again, hands now on both ends of your face, humming in approval when yours find their way to her ass, clawing your fingertips on the soft skin, setting the tempo of how her pussy lips glide across your cock, bathing it in her slick, and a small feeling of what’s to come in the passing minutes. Her teeth clash with yours on accident, laughing as she scaffolds her kisses down to your cheek, to the pulsepoint, on your trap, biting lightly as a proud badge of honor. Pulling away, she bites her lip, placing another kiss before pressing you back to the wall.

“Saku,” you sputter, gasping out when her hips slide forward, pressing herself down on your cock that tenses all of the muscles in your legs, straightening them out beneath the sheets for a moment. “Fuck, you–”

“Shh,” she says, finger on your lips.. “It’s helping a lot, right?” Her hand sliding down your chest, nails grazing across your skin riddled with goosebumps, probably because of how cold the room has gotten but at the same time how the heat between your two continues to build up. “I gave you two hints already, so do what you will with that.”

“I think it is coming together,” you say, puppy dog eyes in amazement with how Sakura keeps your chin tilted up while the movement of her hips hypnotizes you. “But seriously, holy fuck, I-”

Sakura pays no attention to your spills of cutoff praise, a moan from her lips and yours let out in unison when she rubs her clit right at the tip, hunching her back over, your face getting caught between the figurative net that is her tits, drawing another mark with your teeth and soothing it after with the flat plane of your tongue.

If she’s not careful, this right amount of pressure from her pussy over your aching cock might spell disaster for you before even getting started with resuming last night's activities. Her body is already becoming a live wire to feed off on; the taste and how responsive she’s been so far, you’ll play into it for as long as she allows it.

Luckily, she knows your body well enough as hers, stopping herself as she scooches down. The trail of kisses coming back with the first couple scattering their way down from your lips, cheeks, and neck, now down to the chest. Every touch of her lips across the canvas of your body only sends your mind deeper into that endless barrel of delusion and madness from the fantasies you’ve discovered with Sakura.

It might also be worth mentioning how she substituted her pussy for her hand again, dainty fingers well placed around your shaft again, pulling it upwards as she buries herself beneath the sheets, lips now planting kisses at the hip and down to the thigh, then turning her attention to your twitching cock.

You could feel the muscles in your ass clench underneath her body, watching with the comforter raised up to hide her from the open doorway, focused on how her breath grazes along your underside, carefully working her way up to place a chaste kiss to your tip, her tongue getting the first tastes of her favorite snack, swallowing the head first.

She then inches down a bit, pulling herself up and out, tongue swirling and well trained. The feeling settles in static breaths, watching her be grateful for the reward she’s worked hard for in the short span of time. Her head lowers for another second, you lift your hips up to meet in the middle for her, and she stares at you with glossy eyes.

The comforter gets lowered as your hands find themselves onon Sakura’s wrists.

“Saku,” you groan automatically. Sakura’s eyes flutter in approval when she slides her puckered lips further down your length. The tiny press of her perfect lips, her tongue again slathering up the underside again, tracing a vein.

Her hand finds itself at the base, building up a rhythm in her bobs that you’re all too familiar with. Tongue and the opening past her mouth and into the throat, moving in every move imaginable that she knows that you love and like.

And it’s also this double-edged sword - a blessing or curse on her terms, how the vibrations coming from her vocal cords wrap around your cock whilst in her mouth, letting you know how ravishing you are for her cravings.

“Keep the comforter over me.” Sakura commands, purring. Mixing in the swiping of her tongue as well as the erotic kisses she’s spoiling your cock with. Her head goes sideways, treating to one side of the base, dipping down to take one of your balls in her mouth. She’s also aware of how much you like your blowjobs to be wet, so it’s no surprise when she spits all over your cock, ensuring that no spot was left untouched with her saliva.

You do as she says, letting your hands rest beneath the sheets along with Sakura; the view of the room now opened up past the obstruction, watching as the small bump between your legs indicated Sakura’s head, slowly feeling her head working her way down your cock, gasping when you feel the tip of her nose meet your stomach.

She laughs with a mouthful of cock in her mouth still when she hears the sound of the back of your head hitting the wall, gripping the fuck out of her wrist on your leg to let her know that she’s doing wonders - in addition to the tension in your hips, bucking as she’s putting enough effort to take all of you down her throat, shifting her head side by side with the small chokes minimized with the comforter over her.

The pace comes back, but this time with more variety. A hand is wrapped around your shaft, holding it in one spot while her mouth takes you right at the half, gagging as the suction deepens. She’s managed to have your cock slicked up enough to where her fingers are easy to swivel around, doubling down on the stimulation.

Sakura isn’t one to really be forward when it comes to 'relieving your stress’, but with the amount of practice that she’s had from past experiences,, that thread of thoughts continues to open different avenues to sit on a balcony and ponder on. Earlier this week she felt compelled to have you bust all over her face because of how hot you looked while doing a virtual meeting on the couch; you’re picturing the image in your head - how she looks so good with your lips on you, so practiced, mouth pressuring all the right spots and tongue slicing through a vein and maybe lower.

“Baby, baby, holy shit,” you’re moaning out again, getting a response from Sakura’s filled-up mouth, picturing the furrowed eyebrows and half-lidded eyes beneath the sheets. She moves your hands up from her wrists and into her hair, prompting you to shove the best inches down into her throat, much to the point where you’re nearly sitting upright to do so.

This isn’t something to think too hard about: thrusting your hips into Sakura’s face in the morning - into that sweet heat of her mouth, how her nails are creating crevices in your skin, relaxing her mouth and throat enough to stuff nearly all of your length to that one hole of hers. You know that she could go on with this for as long as you’d like, instinctively helping her part a few stray fringes in her hair without even being able to see it. She’s sometimes worried if you’re hurting yourself with every deepthroat she does to you, assuring that having no gag reflex makes these bits in the whole experience a whole lot more pleasurable.

“Mmph.”

“This fucking mouth of yours, Saku,” you mumble, not paying any care to the increased volume of gags or the purring vibration of her open mouth creating this vacuum within your stomach - since the addicting suction and clench were about to send you into oblivion.

“Mmmmph…”

“God,“ you choke out. One thing you don’t want to accept to yourself or to anyone, for that matter: this was the best fucking way to wake up.

“So fucking good,” she mumbles.

Another thing you’d hate to admit sometimes is the fact that even though you've been restricted from seeing Sakura take in your cock so well underneath the sheets, that’s traded in for how fast you could feel yourself coming undone again. That sense of pride also put you in jeopardy because every lick, plunge, and slip of your length into her mouth was another step in the pattern in transition to holding herself steady. It also doesn’t help that she tilts her head up, poking the head of your cock on the inside of her cheek, swiping the tongue at the underside, and seriously, this woman.

The eerie ringing between your ears starts to pop up randomly, your body getting riddled with every overstimulating feeling being thrown right at it. The slickness in her mouth, the grip around the root becoming too tight, the gags becoming intense - your mouth is hanging low as your eyes begin to roll up to the back of your head. She doesn’t plan on playing it safe, and the edge is rapidly getting to you; it’s too fast, too soon, okay, oh fuck, oh fuck.

“Saki!” a voice calls out past the open door leading into the hallway. “Where the fuck are you?” Shit, the tone sounds awfully familiar, and you also notice the trail of clothes along the floor. Another fragment from last night flashes in your brain; though, you’re trying to keep focus while Sakura’s heat surrounds your cock as you hear the sound of feet scraping along the hardwood floor.

“Saki, I-” The second girl stops short past the door, phone in her hand and hair tousled, but still presentable. She’s wearing your dress shirt from the night before, unbuttoned and parted perfectly enough to where you could see the inner curve of her tits - her long, creamy thighs stand out to you, making your lowered jaw salivate when she cocks her head to the right out of curiosity, hands behind her back with her tongue buried behind her bottom lip. “Well, what do we have here?”

How could you forget? The additional set of clothes on the floor? The lady next to Sakura’s ruined body covered with cum on the Polaroid photo?

Kazuha. Who else but Kazuha?

“Good morning,” you greet, paying no attention to your hands as they appear to be all over the place before settling themselves above the sheets, just adjacent to the subtle bump where Sakura’s bobbing head was located. “I was wondering where you went off to.”

“I couldn’t really sleep, so I thought it would be a good idea to whip up some food to kill time,” says Kazuha, biting her lip at the sight of your hand resting above the oddly shaped form between your legs and underneath the sheets. “You wouldn’t mind if I asked: Where the heck is Saki?”

“Well,” you try to say, pretending to be oblivious while the heat of Sakura’s mouth trails your mind off into dreamland. “I’ll give it to you straight; she’s not here.”

“Uh huh,” Kazuha breathes, unamused. “Really though, where did she go?” She asks, raising herself up on her tiptoes, slowly migrating closer to the edge of the mattress, noticing the heels hanging out of the edge. “I could’ve sworn she was next to you when I woke up.”

“She was,” you reply, keeping that sly smile from breaking out in the frame of your face. “I don’t know if you checked the bathroom if she’s there, but that’s one place to start looking if you ask me.”

Kazuha pays no attention to your answer, only keeping her eyes fixed on the pair of feet at the edge of the matter, palming an area for what appears to be Sakura’s calf, which makes her stop her controlled bobbing around your cock for a moment, stunned at the sudden press of Kazuha’s hand pulling her head back off of your soaked shaft, gulping because she knows that she got caught.

A look under the sheets, and Kazuha laughs, locking eyes with you while the offering of a sheepish grin is all that you could give her. “Really?” she asks, examining beneath the white layer to only see Sakura laying on her stomach, bare ass between your legs while you eventually call the act off, lifting off the sheets to give Kazuha a better look at Sakura’s head buried between your thighs, hand still well gripped into the threads of her hair. “If you guys are going to start the fun without me, then don’t even bother hiding it.”

“We weren't hiding anything at all,” teases Sakura, dipping her head down your cock again that makes you clench at the feeling of her throat.

“Pretty much seems that way to me.” Kazuha retorts.

“Who was the one who woke up early again?”

“Don’t I have a say in this?” You inquire, combing Sakura’s messy hair down while she moves her wrist around your length to occupy herself, causing you to shudder at the delicate touch. “I mean, Jesus, I guess Saku here couldn’t really help herself to me.”

“She’s the worst.” Kazuha declares, slipping out of your dress shirt, now left with nothing but those lacy black pants she slipped on.

“He worked you over; let me remind you,” Sakura replies, bearing a smug grin when she looks over towards you. “You finished on her back, and before that, you finished on me twice.”

The corner of your eye picks up on Kazuha getting back on the bed, shuffling with her knees as she approaches closer to you. You remember again that she’s relatively well known in your circle of friends, considering the fact that she’s one of the four girls that you’re relatively affiliated with around campus. She’s only a year younger than you, but good friends with Sakura (obviously); and there’s also the duo of Chaewon and Yunjin, the pair of them also crazy in their own rights, respectively.

“Your point being?” The question gets both of their attention, exchanging looks when Kazuha finally reaches to you, guiding your hand to her waist and around her back, Sakura placing neat kisses across your obliques, cock still welded to her hand and stroking gently.

“I guess the golden question should be asked again,” says Sakura, bending her neck down to lightly tap the tip of your cock to her pouty lips. “Where do you think you’ll finish today? On our face? Down our throats? Our backs? Or maybe…”

“Maybe…” Kazuha teases, lifting her hands with yours up to her face, rubbing the pad of your thumb across her bottom lips, lightly sucking on it that’s insanely hypnotic. “Maybe he could finish inside us?”

(Sakura and Kazuha: birds of a feather. You can’t fathom with the fact sometimes that they’ll act like angels, dress like crazy, and only have you around to tug the clothes off of them, as they’re babbling listlessly about how you’ll pin one of them down (or both) on the carpet, make paintings with your tongue all over their bodies; the taste of each more exquisite in every round you take them on, fucking them on any article of furniture within reach. )

Kazuha’s not even remotely close to you. You and her are just surface-level friends at best. Heck, she’s only a mere acquaintance in the swing of things, if you want to read deeper into the personal analysis of each other. The only line of connection you have with her is through Sakura. And from the last outing being a solid first impression for all parties involved, you’d laugh to yourself at times because Kazuha could never have enough of you and Sakura.

“Kazuha, sweetie,” Sakura purrs, pulling her head up with a string of spit still attached to her chin. “You’ve had your fill with him already, literally.” And as she says that, you feel all of the muscles and bones in your body practically melt through the mattress beneath you from the overall presence and weight that these two women have. These two perfect dolls - imagining how their bodies will bend and crumple when you bury your cock inside both of them, shutting one up with the other’s cunt over their mouth. Sakura’s mouth has already made you want to test that edge, and with Kazuha’s?

“I think we should let him decide who to dump his cum into, no?” Sakura suggests soon after pulling Kazuha’s body next to hers, allowing you to admire the live Renaissance painting taking place before you. She then pats Kazuha’s shoulders twice, much like something straight out of practice: Kazuha quick to get on top of your waist while Sakura scooches down to hold your cock tried and true back into her mouth, the pleasure instantaneous as Kazuha’s lips find yours for the first time today.

Kazuha’s arms slither over the bridge of your collarbones, letting you indulge in her perky tits, trying to keep your focus on her while Sakura begins to up the ante again in scarfing up your cock.

“I wanted you all to myself when I woke up first,” Kazuha says, tangling her fingers in your hair, softly moaning when you’re leaving sporadic marks all over her tits, capturing your lips again as you involuntary groan into her mouth, to which she receives it incredibly well. “But you were sleeping so soundly, I decided to leave you be.”

You’re also wondering about the different things you had on your to-do list in your phone. Out of all times, why in the hell were you thinking about that now? You’ve got your personal love interest inhaling your cock by the second, with another friend in your arms who’s willing to be your personal fuckbuddy just for the sake of it.

Kazuha’s features break a bit when you’ve got your lips catered to the stiff buts of her nipples, hands wandering across that toned back of hers, tracing the shoulder blades while the grasp in your fingers starts to crunch at the fine skin.

“I think,” she husks, listening to the occasional gags Sakura’s doing on your cock continuously. “Maybe you’ve been wanting my mouth for a bit too now, huh?”

(Well, yeah. I mean-)

Kazuha quickly takes the hint right out of your mind, mirroring the same pathway of kisses that Sakura did not long ago, the same waves of pleasure mixed in with the return of goosebumps spreading across your body, hands still unsure where they play as they’re suspended in the air, giving way as Sakura slips your cock out of her mouth, twisting at the crown once Kazuha meets in the middle.

The gaze they give you, from the both of them, exchanging glances with each other because these two share a brain cell together - that’s the simple assessment to observe when you’re left speechless.

Thank God you cleared your morning from whatever schedule that was initially planned, because it wouldn’t have led to having these two in your bed wanting all of you.

“Do I still have a say in this?’ You attempt to ask, studying how their eyes are full of infectious lust, the creeping grin spreading across their lips. “To be fair, I think I also need to get some morning stretching in before getting on with the morning.”

“Oh, you’ll get your stretching in.” Sakura muses.

“You won’t be saying anything from this point on,” declares Kazuha.

No point in arguing against the pair; the verdict has already been decided.

Sakura slides her hands up across your chest, laying you back down while Kazuha shuffles down to the original spot where Sakura was occupying, eyes drawn to the peek of Kazuha’s tongue on your cock, switching in between kisses and licks.

A difference between Kazuha and Sakura when it came to blowing you: Sakura knew the different kinds of tricks from experimenting in the past couple months - what worked and what didn’t. Kazuha, on the other hand, was just yearning for the taste of you in her mouth, sealing her lips with the right press, eager to pick up where Sakura left off. It shouldn’t be making you feel like putty, but that’s exactly the case when she bottoms your cock out, clenching her throat that makes you twitch at the hip joints.

Sakura gets a hand around your length, tethering you to one angle, Kazuha dipping down with just her mouth, with every bob up being met with a palm twisting around your shaft. The sounds that rumble from deep within your chest are enough proof that the thin walls surrounding you three won’t be quiet for any longer.

Though your muscles could only stay tense for so long due to the fascinating clench, with Sakura joining back in on the fun that makes you fall slack to the mattress. She’s picking back up with kisses in certain areas of your groin where Kazuha has only glossed over, tongue well working up the seam of your balls, popping on in her mouth while Kazuha’s face is perpendicular, shifting up the side as if she’s playing the flute.

Her brows furrow for a bit when she puts the head of your cock past her pretty lips, hollowing her cheeks for a moment, swirling the tongue right underneath the tip, enough for you to tense up your length in her mouth, and you’re met with wide eyes, feeling the small release of cum onto her tongue. Kazuha then slips you out for a second, licking her lips as you’re putting everything into your body to not bust this early.

“I think he’s had enough of me, Saki. What do you think?” Kazuha observes, “Do you want more of him again?”

“Is that even supposed to be a question? Let me remind you who’s the sluttiest between the two of us.” Sakura grits, voice laced with a firm determination, as her eyes are now filled with fire building deep within the corneas.

You might be fucked here. But hey, that’s all part of the fun with these two. Remember?

Not that it was any sort of competition, so to speak, but with how they synergize together, the movements of their mouths all over their shaft, guiding one’s mouth over your cock, taking turns, whispering these sweet instructions of ‘hold here’ and ‘right there, baby,’ and even ‘god, spit all over his cock, baby. You know he likes it wet,’ it’s impossible for you to stand tall, the assault on your shaft turning into a monumental task from here on out.

Sakura asserts herself over Kazuha, fingers fast around the base, lowering her jaw enough so that the speed of the bobbing can be much quicker, and it is. Judging from how loudly you ground for the both of them to hear, Kazuha’s hands find themselves on the back of Sakura’s head, grabbing handfuls of hair as she guides her down again, making her swallow you. All of you. Until you could feel the vibrations of her hums rattling down your length and into your lower body.

Kazuha whispers into Sakura’s ear, too difficult to hear since the whines drown out the continuous gagging she’s proffering over your cock, putting her at the base for what feels like an eternity. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She’s still holding you down with the tightness of her throat, the urge to put your hand over Kazuha’s, prolonging the unbelievable sensation, and three taps to your hip signal that Kazuha’s had enough.

She pulls her head back up, coughing; these destroyed attempts at sobs breaking through the air. You’re left gasping, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you as they both tend to your soaked cock, looking back up as they move in unison for a moment, then switching off different places around the underside while the moans just keep on coming. Hands are also fast to comb back the light obsidian and honey golden locks, not wanting to ruin their flow when they meet to kiss with your cock caught in between the crossfire.

“You girls are something else,” you husk, ears filled with the sounds of their giggles as they both continue with their makeout session, alternating with mouths and occasionally your cock still in both of their hands. The wet kisses being shared were an absolutely wonderful sight to see, and though you forget that you could also have fun for yourself, taking the liberty to press both of their lovely lips on the sides of your shaft, laughing and moaning up and over the length while you just watch. And you keep watching, feeling the puffed-up chest of yours almost rise to where your chin’s at, sucking your gut inwards as your hips do the familiar motion of raising themselves upwards to the both of them.

“He’s ready for us, hmm?” Sakura asks, wiping a patch of drool away from her chin. “Kazu, you get to ride him first. I’ve got to make sure he’s well rewarded for his patience, okay?”

Kazuha nods, watching as she primes herself, touching her slick folds as Sakura shuffles herself up past your chest, getting her thighs buried into your armpits, her pussy hovering right over your face, not wanting to wait another second as you pull her hips down, moaning into her core as Kazuha teases her walls with the head of your cock just for good measure.

“Don’t, fuck, please." Sakura pleads, taken by shock when your tongue swipes up her pussy lips, taking in the sweetness while making note of how slick she’s gotten for you. The pads of your fingers grip on her legs a bit tighter, her nose shifted up to rub her clit slightly, and she yelps. Kazuha laughs right behind her, sinking her warmth over your shaft, eliciting a moan that gets transferred into Sakura’s leaking hole, licking up the folds when Kazuha finally settles your cock into her.

“Shit!”

Sakura clutches her fingers into your hair, moaning to no avail as you quench that thirst you’ve been searching for this entire morning, and she starts to grind her pussy lips across your face, rolling slowly as your mouth hangs open, letting the sounds of rapture spill out of her mouth with every lick you do to her.

“You’re so good,” Sakura moans out, feeling the latch of your lips onto the nub, flattening out your tongue again across her folds, earning another moan in approval. You smile against her hips when your ears are filled with the endless phrases of cursing that you’ve heard way too often, but it never gets old. Ever. “Why are you so... so fucking good at this?”

So you try to speak, but all that’s said is buried underneath the drain of her pussy, moaning out as a proper response as Kazuha picks up her pace in riding your cock, feeling the clash of her hips with yours, bottoming out your length that makes you lock your knees to ensure that the lower half of your body is stable enough for her frame.

Kazuha increases the chances, setting her legs up in a squatting position, keeping herself upright with just her hands on your waist, letting her face onto Sakura’s sweaty back. She lets herself float over you for a minute, taking the chance to catch her breath while you begin to piston her pussy, thrusting upwards. You’re met with a low groan spilled out of Kazuha’s lips in response to your action, only to be drowned out when she lowers her hips to meet with yours, the primal slaps filling up the room and bouncing around the walls.

The inevitability of cumming a full-fledged broken dam into Kazuha’s cunt was a thought filling your mind, but you try to not think too much about it; Sakura’s pussy was still a thing to deal with, maintaining your pace with every lick you do to her clit.

Effort was everything; that was something to keep in mind when it comes to fucking Sakura. She loves it when you get so into it just like her, because you too can’t get enough of ruining this perfect girl every chance you get. Kazuha was also on the same boat, and by how your thighs continue to shake at the weight of her hips coming down on you again and again, it’s impossible to ignore how good she is too - keep it coming, Sakura’s telling you, in the lovely sounds filling up your ears coming from her and Kauhza. You’re fucking me so good, baby. I love it when your cock throbs inside me. Please give it to me. I know you want to.

Kazuha knows you’re close, and Sakura’s not far off in the lost rails of rhythm. Her pussy is flooding on your face, the please becoming more erratic and desparte.

“God, I’m going - I'm going.”

The words coming out of you are buried underneath Sakura’s thighs.

"Fuck, I can’t with your fucking-ah!”

Kazuha does one drive back down your length, and then one more for good measure. Sakura’s hips tremble over your face, quivering and hips trembling as you drag her pussy right across your tongue. Your arms latch somewhere above Sakura’s ass, matching her clutches with the digits buried in your locks, a fire lit under your chest as Kazuha’s cunt grips you like a knot - the heat from their bodies and yours submerging you as if you were in lava. Kazuha bucks forward, face hitting Sakura’s back, holding herself up with her hands as the pounds from thrusting upwards become increasingly unstable, her ravine of a pussy getting you closer and closer to that edge while you can’t even think straight.

A swipe up the tongue on Sakura’s folds. Then three more, nibbling on her clitoral area as her thighs start to press inward from both sides of your head. She keeps grinding, dragging her swollen lips across the ridges of your face, mewling with a hand on the headboard, giggling as she mirrors the movements from grinding on your cock earlier.

Kazuha slams her hips down, and not in a nice fashion since, well, fuck, legitimately, her cunt seizes your cock, smearing her sweet juices all over the rough bits, a vein that’s concealed with her walls, keening when she feels the swollen head shoved up inside her twitch that really makes her feel like mash. Her nails are ripping apart the skin on your stomach, searching for a hold to grab on to. It’s all futile when your body’s elevated to a temperature where there’s glistening sweat all over - her hands slip off and land on the cushions, priming the angle where you’ve hit before, fucking her deeper. She hisses when your balls lightly tap the pucker of her ass, just a bit, but that turns her on so much more.

“This cunt,” you mumble out, mouth still full of Sakura’s pussy, “Kazu, I can’t, babe. Your pussy is unreal.”

“Okay,” Sakura flatly says, “fuck.” And Kazuha just laughs, fluttering her eyes shut when you’ve latched onto the lower part of her thighs. “Keep working on him, Zu. You know he loves your pussy that much, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes, God.”

“Cum inside her.” Sakura instructs, and it’s a bid that you had no second thought of doing. “How nice of her to be your little personal fuckdoll, hm? To just handle her in ways that you want her to, nice and sticky and all fucked out, because you know she’ll come back for more, baby.”

The next move she does is so calculated, you can’t even tell or determine if she did it on the fly: placing Kazuha’s chin on the small divot in her collarbone, the image of her closed eyes, the frizzes in her wavy hair slightly covering part of her face, shaken because of how your hips drive upwards into her. And Sakura just does the simple motion of putting her palm on the side of her face, parting her mouth open while you can only watch with your eyes since the lower half of your face is still attached to Sakura’s pussy.

“Saku,” a frail call in the last seconds, “She feels so good.”

“Fuck your cum into her, baby,” Sakura growls again, clawing the sides of your head as she ruts her hips deeper into your mouth. “That’s the only thing that matters. Until she’s full with the fucking thickness of it.”

You managed to fuck Kazuha through her climax a minute or two ago, and now she’s repaying you by fiddling through yours.

It’s an unraveling feeling when you push past that brink, filling up her tiny cunt with cum, molding her fuckhole to every detail of your member. And she’s mouthing, Sakura’s expression filled with glee, saying, Aw baby, god, yes, would you look at her? She loves it when you fuck a nice load into her, fresh and hot, and-

“Christ,” you grit out, hoarsely, letting the pulses channel out of your body, Dick still grinding the deepest parts of her stomach, cum splattering every spot to be left untouched inside. The throbs are still happening, but with every hold you have, your cock starts to die out in the heat of her hips.

The senses are all over the place when Kazuha slips her pussy off of your cum-soaked cock, Sakura’s hips now hovering above your face, shifting off when you still see the constellations flash in your eyes, vision blurring and deblurring to the image of Kazuha paying no attention to Sakura’s state, sloppily placing her lips with hers again, rough.

These two kiss like friends, maybe friends who have had a little bit too much to drink in order for them to act like this. They’ve done this with Yunjin and Chaewon for sure, based on the stories that you’ve heard. With or without the alcohol, they both show this kind of affection because it's natural, watching as Sakuraa’s hands find Kazuha’s head, Kazuha slithering her arms behind Sakura’s back, letting the passion take over both of their bodies. They both take the time to indulge in each other's features: hands wandering, mouths on nipples, gripping necks and pulling waists closer, Sakura teasing Kazuha’s well-worked cunt, a fingertip soaked with a bit of your cum, licking it cleanly off her fingers.

And the hums. The fucking hums that these two are spilling out. You’re basically drooling when they pick up where they left off with the kissing, paying no attention to you as your hand starts to slowly slide over your cock, palming it before your fingers start to wrap around the length one by one. You’re equally fucked just like them, but there’s no problem with that.

Both of them take as much time as they needed - tender lips and tongues canvassing every part of their exposed bodies, eyes recording every second of this account - in hopes that you can play this back in your mind as Kazuha smiles with full delight to match your expression, drinking in the sight of the show presented right on your lap.

“I think Saku’s ready for you,” Kazuha hushes, lightly dragging her fingertips across the taut line of Sakura’s abs, resting on the underside of her breast, like a showoman who is trying to entice like she’s selling the latest model of a car. Her hand then goes down to Sakura’s clitoral area, rubbing it in circles when the mountains of pillows and sheets are unearthed from the mattress, ruffling and crumpling with the movements of their legs and feet, being pulled by your hand to the edge of the bed. “She made a mess all over your face, didn’t she? Now you’ve got to pay her back.”

You’ve gotten out of bed in a heartbeat multiple times before. One morning was because you were late to class; the other time was to follow the view of Sakura’s bare ass tiptoeing into the kitchen for another meal before starting the day - and here you were, with a rearranged order in what probably feels like slow motion but one constant movement throughout, hand never leaving the meat and bone of Sakura’s ankle, assisting Kazuha by reeling Sakura, who’s shying away, but this is exactly what she wants.

“Our little baby of a whore is deprived of a thick cock filling up her guts,” Kazuha sighs, expression a bit fatigued with the way she’s still coming down from her high. “So do you think you can do me a favor? Stuff up her cunt nice and tuck first, then ruin her after. How does that sound?”

You try to answer, at least, taken aback when Kazuha’s got her long fingers along the line of your hardening shaft and Sakura’s spreading her legs wider and wider. She’s holding you close. Closer. Aiming - tried and practiced - towards the heat of Sakura’s. It’s a hook, line, and sinker when the head of your cockparts her walls, slippery and still leaking, feeling every nerve ending in her hips trickle a thousand volts inside.

“Make her beg for it. I think you’ll be able to fuck her filthy with how she’s wanting to cum for you.” Kazuha’s tone drops down low, almost agitated. “This is payback for what she did to me last time, so I’ll let you be the judge.”

And when the opportunity presents itself for you to determine that said call, it’s never a clear answer from the start if you’re willing to be honest with yourself. The one of many tricks Sakura has on her exposed sleeve, enchanting you with a heavy desire - the kind of want that could never be fully fulfilled. And, even in the days where it does feel like that, it doesn’t even come close to satisfying you.

When you lock eyes with her, wide open to match with her parted mouth, bottoming her all the way with your cock tapping to that spot that has her keening, holding back her sigh as your groin meets the underside of her thighs.

“Feel good, baby?” You ask Sakura, relieved at how she’s come to grips around your shaft burying inside her, head tilting back, clutching on to Kazuha’s forearm as your fingers find their place along her thighs. “Hm,” you assess soon after, inching your cock past the halfway point, “sure looks like it does.”

Sakura’s mouth wobbles, gasping, her eyes draw shut, and her face flushes pink. She takes in your cock so well, the slipping slick of her thighs sounding off this noise of pure squelching; her whole upper body moves up in reaction; stomach bucking, chest puffing up to the open air, pushing in the deep area that has you speechless.

The bottom palm of her hand grazes your groin, adjusting to how your cock molds around her cunt, hands shifting to the underside of the knees, using the rising octaves in her moans to indicate that she’s receptive and expressive in approval. Amidst the growing chaos the lower half of your body is going through, Kazuha takes liberty in massaging Sakura’s breasts, rubbing her stomach as it bloats from the air being exhaled in whines and expletives.

“Ugh, fuck, you." She’s blabbering at this point.

And there’s you, finding your rhythm, your groove, enjoying the way her soft skin maps out across your rough and grainy fingers, how it sinks in so smoothly - much closer to melting, it seems - something of that degree.

“-mhm,” and there’s the “can’t baby, ah, ngh-” with more of, “-dick feels so good.” It’ll fall between the cracks, piercing deep, pulling out and sliding it across her folds just to play as a tease, because she deserves it without any reason, penetrating back in to pick up right where you left off.

Sakura’s body is that one journey that you can never get tired of looking at. How her thighs are just immaculately perfect, that waist offering up those sets of abs on a pedestal, the way her tits rebound on the upstroke when you’ve got past the spot of bottoming her out - where your cockhead grips at the soft spot where it’s been at multiple times, squeezing and swallowing and resting where it should belong in every case with her.

Kazuha shifts her body from the side of Sakura, getting lower to rest her head right above her waist, a trail of kisses circling over her stomach and belly button, getting caught in the throes of pleasure when you realize that Sakura’s got two fingers inside Kazuha, helping her treat herself and assisting the self-induced action.

“God, Saki, look at him all fucked out in your pussy, huh?” Kazuha bites down in an area on her waist just above her cunt, nose brushing down lower to her clit, hand curling around to the bottom of her inner thighs, keeping it out of your way. “She wraps you so well, doesn’t she? Finally getting fucked again after last night?”

“Don’t you know it,” you answer, and there’s no other need to spiel something that’s already been known; Sakura can make you shut the fuck up with her mouth, her cunt, and the way that she talks pure sex. You love how she’s nothing more than mush and warmth. A fine tapestry that’s meant to stay untouched, but you’ll tear all the edges down where the seams have already been shredded.

You get thrown off when Sakura’s pussycle clenches at the hilt, where the contraction captures the air bubbling in your lungs, turning the legs into jelly, and the bobble forward into her lying body on the mattress only punctuates without saying a word. Kazuha laughs at the sudden change in weight on her head, causing you to stand back up with your knees to the bed holding you up, drawing away as Kazuha gazes at your silken cock, soaked with Sakura, lightly teasing when you’re pushing the tip in and out for good measure.

Kazuha rises from her bent state, lazily putting her lips on yours as the pace slows a bit in the lower half of you - darting your cock in with one firm stroke. Hard. The strokes themselves are now more impactful, and ripping, the snap is becoming more assertive. “Fuck, sir, fucking,” Sakura cries out, the coil of her cunt tying you in. Kazuha sets herself back to where she was, resting her cheek on her waist as every entry with your cock, body bouncing on the soaked sheets from all the sweat and leaking slick coming out.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, ah.”

Sakura’s hands hold at her thighs, gyrating upwards at every point where your cock buries at the deepest depth, swelling at the unimaginable clench to where she mewls, wailing but cute at how she’s tuckered out.

“Goodness gracious,’ You spit out, in a half-sob, the moans and utterances and simple replies to Kazuha’s endless mumbling, repeating in one same fashion or the other. “You’re so-so fucking wet, and for what? God-”

“Look at what you did to her,” Kazuha tuts, biting on the inside of her thigh, and Sakura basically yelps. A mix of pain and pleasure, the best of both worlds. You tug yourself out of her cunt, slapping the swollen cockhead on the nub of her clit, sighing at the way she shudders. “Do you think she deserves to finally let go?’

The responses that pass through your lips are just staggered breaths, tumbling down as the slaps start to line up with your heartbeat. A fine point in pace, your internal metronome that only leads to the dwindling doom of your thick cock thrusting Sakura’s tight pussy.

“Love it,” Sakura mutters, head fallen to the provided pillow courtesy of Kazuha; she’s sobbing. “Love your cock, so fucking much.”

“Mhm honey,” and the pet names in themselves are just the ad-libs thrown into the mix, with the right touch of pheromones and increase of dopamine being shot up to the brain. “Get it in there nice and deep; I want her to own it, feel it, because this cock is all hers.”

“-god.”

The riled-up exhale comes in reflection of the ecstasy, every bit of praise coming from Kazuha’s lips playing hand-in-hand with Sakura’s moans filling your ears.

“Think you can hold out a bit longer, Saki? Kazuha croons, head turned the opposite way as she admires the sucked-out gaze Sakura wears on her face, meeting your eyes again. “I’m doing you a favor since he fucked my brains out last time, so be thankful. You greedy bitch.”

“Shut your fucking-ugh.”

“Don’t even think about keeping it in,” Kazuha doubles down, dragging her nails across Sakura’s inner thigh, forcing her legs wide open once more, almost as if she’s doing the splits across the length of the mattress. “He’s so perfect for you, hitting all of the right spots and all the right places? In that creaming pussy of yours? How his fucking fat cock splits you up into oblivion? Come on now, just-”

“My fucking god,” you blurt out, in complete shock at the words that were spilling out of Kazuha’s mouth like emptying an open bucket full of water. “You are a piece of work.”

Kazuha just laughs, taking the compliment to heart, with some mischief still showing with her closed eyelids. Sakura whines, going silent, shaking as your fingers bruise the same spots where the grip on her waist was first.

The lust starts to boil to a point where nothing else is given a second though, and it’s been that way for a while now, fueled with a hunger that could replace the morning cup of coffee with ease, watching as your cock vanishes into Sakura’s pussy, the moans hitting similar notes that are now just echoes of the night prior.

“Ah, uh, almost there." Sakura, once forward in her advances, now reduced to simple begs and pleads, the gaze half-lidded, back arching off the rumples in the sheets. She’s so fucking wet for you, and that’s another mental note that’s circling back in your head for probably the tenth time this morning so far, and might worth mentioning that it’s still in the fucking morning.

“Oh? Make her do it, babe.” Kazuha orders the go-ahead, a hand - well, actually, both hands full of Sakura’s breasts, claiming it as hers. “I think she’s willing to be killed while being split open.”

You’re paying zero attention to the words - grunting and passing air - as the piledriving only seems to be the sole constant that your mind and body seem to be focusing on.

It’s a bit disorienting how your vision blacks out before coming back with color, the mind playing tricks as if you were getting your head dunked underwater and pulled back up, gasping for air. The thrusting never stops, with every fiber in your body, pooling it into fucking Sakura’s open cunt in the best way possible. Her hips are past the breaking point, grinding up against yours. She’s wailing, towards hyperventilation, eyes rolling upward to the back of her head, mouthing, close. You can easily tell, I’m so fucking close for you. Keep ramming your dick into me.

“Saki,” now you’re saying the other nickname, and Kazuha grins, finally having her moment. “Fuck, baby-”

Sakura looks away as Kazuha looks up, chin lightly tapping your hips - the devilish smile she possesses - it’s a rare occurrence, but that look could haunt you in your dreams: “Use her pussy, fuck everything up inside of her, I don’t care. Get her creaming all over you. I want to hear her screaming.”

And Sakura fucking screeches. The better sound to wake up to rather than the annoying alarms on your phone.

She holds still, every part of her body tensing - knees locking, toes curling, back arching and unarching - as Kazuha holds her down. The noises she’s making are loud enough to slip through the thin walls, and you can guess another complaint from the neighbors would be on the cards. Kazuha takes liberty into treating a barrage of kisses across Sakura’s body, you trying to drag your cock a little bit in, barely managing to drag yourself out. A brief effect from the aftershocks: her midsection freezing as the clamp around your cock starts to subside.

Sakura whimpers with closed lips, shuddering when you finally slide out of her properly-fucked cunt, leaning down to kiss and kiss and kiss, dick taking the fresh, cold air as it rests along the bottom portion of her waist. Your hands get on her neck, helping her up with the arch in her back, hot and slicked and sweaty. Kazuha gives you two some space, playing as the makeshift crane to pull Sakura away from the clutches of your hands and lips, face racked in disappointment when Kazuha looks at you, smiling, tending to the mess that’s reforming in her arms.

Kazuha then moves across the bed with her knees, a change in guard from Sakura to her when her body crashes into yours, the press of her lips good enough for you to fall on your back as the arms and chest eventually come into their own, molding with the canvas of your skin to mesh. She’s literally perfect for you - the way she wants more of you - in the taste of your lips, how your fingers explore every area of the framework that’s tensing and relaxing, reaching for spots that get her riled up in every way imaginable.

You kiss and lick and grab wherever you can. A hand palming the firm skin of her ass, soft and plump. The hickeys and other various bite marks are an earned badge of honor for Kazuha to be proud of, her nails digging into the skin where your shoulders are as the grip on her ass-cheeks starts to become more and more possessive, slapping it as her forehead accidentally clatters yours.

“Such a klutz,” she assesses, landing a loose kiss on the bottom of your chin. “Still able to think straight after fucking Saki relentlessly?”

“What do you think?” You rebuke, dazed, as Kazuha gets a finger on a strand of your hair at the front, mimicking her messy bedhead bangs.

“I mean,” she slips her tongue across your bottom lip, biting along the patch of few hairs, pulling her head back when she notices that your hands have never left the curve of her ass. “I think you’ve got more to offer, and here’s a bonus: there’s one hole that you haven’t filled yet.”

It’s the most simple movement she could do, with any intent that she wanted to fabricate behind it. She turns around, swaying her ass from the left side as she’s on her hands and knees on the bed, stretching as far as she could possibly get them to reach. The arch starts to form along the fine lines of muscle displayed on her back, arms out straight as her legs find a proper foothold, spreading themselves for you to fill in the space.

Your hands have never been quick to get themselves on something that you want, and this was the only exception; it’s appalling how easy the soft skin wraps around the underside of your fingers, picturing the look on her hidden face where you can only see the back of her head: in her lidded eyes, the swollen lip being captured between her teeth, the mumbling of insistence when all you’re just doing is feeling her out, resting your dick above her unfathomable cheeks, grazing the underside in the small divot at the middle, pressing them closer together, her hips reeling back and into your thighs, the listless moan spilling out of your mouth when the friction tightens at the belly of your cock.

In fact, that’s the only thing you keep your focus on, not paying any sort of attention to Sakura when she shuffles out from beneath Kazuha’s lowered and bent body, doing this sort of army crawl to the nightstand for a certain thing. You’ve seen the arsenal that she has in that drawer, and some of the items were actually put to use in the last outing with Sakura and Kazuha. The instinctual thing that you do also is lean over to Kazuha’s backside and get one side of your face nestled into her as your hands wrap their way around her stomach, holding her close.

Not much is said aside from the shaky exhales and whines, filled in with the occasional smacks of your lips across skin. Until-

“My turn to watch,” announces Sakura, a slim bottle in her hand, wrapped with those long, dainty fingers of hers.

You blink once, and she’s on the edge where the nightstand is. You blink again, and she’s already made her way back to you, cap opened with the noise similar to an obvious crack of a stick, like breaking the silence in a quiet forest.

Sakura’s hands become slick, as if her hand were made of the smooth liquid itself. The grip she has on you is breathlessly attractive: palm sliding across the length, strategizing the strokes at every curve and pull while she’s kissing you.

“Do you have any idea how long she’s been wanting this?” Sakura questions, implicating you as she slaps your cock along Kazuha’s ass. “You’ve told me before: she’s made for you.”

Utterly speechless is what you are, but maybe you should say something to-

“Gotta fuck her sensless,” Sakura suggests, head perpendicular to yours while the cock in her hands starts to graze the surface of her ass, nudging the opening by just a teeny bit, a small preview of what’s to unfold. “That’s what she wants. What she needs. Isn’t that right, Zuha?”

“Mhm.” Kazuha hums in agreement, a throaty moan to follow after Sakura gets both hands full of her ass, spreading her open. “All of it,” Kazuha murmurs, chest pulled inwards when you start to descend; the more you fall, the more faster the air expels out of her chest, with a shout thrown in - a last resort call of your name: “fuck, I, hngh, god.”

You hold for a moment, pussy leaking by the second as she’s taking you fully, expanding to compensate for the girth. An enchanted feeling washes over your body, grabbing to whatever you can of Kazuha’s ass - holding, a still in this moment of time - and this was the only grace period you’ve given her much more than yourself, head falling back because her hips do this movement in your hands, and

“For fuck’s sake,” you spit, because the suffocating tightness and heat surrounding your cock is one to be unbearable. The pins and needles of pleasure prick all over your nerves as the fine weight of Kazuha’s ass takes you in and out, until you’ve retreated from the impending chamber, pausing as your cock twitches.

Then you drop the pin inside her, all the way.

“Fuck!” Kazuha gasps, sewing her eyes shut. Her hands start to grip the sheets.

There isn’t much time after for her to get used to this, as you start to drive into her more, fucking out every cry that you could suck out of her lips. Her ass does this little ripple effect with every slam, making her feel the thickness where it hurts, hugging your cock in all directions. It’s a gradual push from here on out, building your sense of rhythm again, just like how she was riding you earlier.

“Finally,” Sakura breathes, kissing Kazuha’s ass cheek, getting her fingers buried on the curve, kneading, showing, and biting.

The thrusts keep coming. One stroke and the next. Each one after is harder than the last. Your eyes are locked onto Sakura’s side profile, watching your cock disappear in the valley of Kazuha’s ass with every passing movement. Kazuha herself looks over her shoulder, a hand out reaching for something, maybe her thigh, hoping to spread herself even wider so that it’ll be easier for you to stretch her tight hole out. You could feel that she wants more, throwing her ass back to match her strokes with yours, the slaps becoming louder and louder, similar to the moans.

“So fucking tight,” you grit, your vision loosing sharpness at the top layers. Sakura’s smiling into Kazuha’s sweaty skin. “Like, nobody else could have this but me. Shit-”

“It’s not every day that you’re gaping a pretty girl’s ass.” Sakura says it excitedly, her head rocking along with the movement of Kazuha’s body in every slam. “Fucking her hole and opening up just for you. God, Kazu, can you believe this? He’s taking you so fucking well; I love the way he just fucks you, like that’s the only thing he’s meant to do. Just drop your pants whenever, and he’ll just take you right then and there- get you craving - over and over and over again, and it could be everything, if you just let him.”

Kazuha claws deeper into the bedsheets, nearly tearing the fabric, Sakura’s face on Kazuha’s ass-cheek, closing her eyes to feel the motion more.

Every inch of her body is washed with bliss, curdling in the layers beneath the skin, a form of want that could only, truly, be achieved by you.

“Baby,” Sakura’s calling out to you this time, face flustered when you realize that she’s got a hand magnetized to the heat between her legs; fingers in its own cyclone, a paradigm of its own when she’s screwing in two, no-three digits inside her cunt, parting her folds in an identical fashion the way that your cock rips open Kazuha’s ass and fucking the lights out of her since that’s the primary reason why she’s connected to you, and Sakura even sit back and watch this unfold in front of her eyes, bear witness to you fucking her friend with every matching heartbeat to the claps, “She could be a heartbreaker for you, and you could fuck her ego until she finally knows her place, like the motherfucking slut that she is.”

There’s no sense of control left in your bones anymore. All you just do is let Sakura’s words fill your ears as your fingers dig deeper into the firm cheeks of Kazuha, the warm embrace of oil trickling down the plugged-up, puckered ass as your cock picks up the dripping remnants.

“I-” is what you make of a poor attempt from Kazuha, the vowel replaced with a flat-out gasp, since the irreplaceable feeling of power goes a little bit over the top of your head, a firm thrust to send the message instead as the fucked-out girl at the front of your thighs tumbles out a voice that’s wheezing and whining in croaks. “Fuck. Yes, fuck, fuck, babe.”

Sakura doesn’t really say many words to you soon after, just mouthing yours, yours. She’s so yours. And even if you could describe the surreal feeling of bending a beautiful girl over across the canvas of your mattress and sheets, there’d probably be nothing else left to say from you. She’s just urging you to keep on trucking Kazuha’s ass, demanding that you’d fuck her until the wheelchair sitting in the dark corner of your closet proved to be a viable solution for her poor legs - when there’s all but that satiated with the proper fucking you’ve delivered.

“Aw, you like it when she’s all fucked out for you, huh?” Sakura keeps on talking, smiling her heart away, paying no attention to the obscene sounds that Kazuha keeps letting out. You try to come up with a response to Sakura, but you’re lost at the letters caught in the back of your tongue, watching as Kazuha’s beautiful ass envelops all of your cock, balls lightly tapping her cunt when you’ve got it down to the hilt. The moans hit a hitch at the throat, only for it to be drowned out with the unrelenting thrusts into her tight ass and flushing your thighs with hers.

A snap from one slow hit. Then another. You keep fucking in, one hand alternating between from the rounded end of Kazuha’s waist to her ass-cheek and the other buried into the messy locks of Sakura’s, holding her head in place as the grip around your cock burns across the surface, not failling to keep the pace consistent as it increases the more Kazuha’s walls smother your cock with ease.

“-perfect,” Kazuha manages to say, the syllables tumbling on top of each other as her whines do this staccato format the more your thrusts chop up the sound. You’re driving your hips so up to the frontside that the ripples start to catch Sakura’s cheek, who’s still laughing when she hears Kazuha try to speak, fucked at the cock stabbing inside her for all that it’s worth. “Stretching me so good, baby, you’ve got it, yes, right there,” and that’s when you see her head fall to the pillow, screaming with all her might when you’ve brought her to the point which-

“Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.” Sakura scowls, fist full of Kazuha’s hair, forcing her up. The arch in her back is deeper than before, giving you a little more space for you to take inside her ass, inching deeper. This wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for the wetness and pulsing throbs your cock emits when you bury yourself in, holding as the grip from her tight ass is something straight out of a mythical creation. “I want him to hear you. Use you. Lower your head again, and I swear to fuck-“

This happens on impulse, or maybe this was the one thought sitting in the back of your mind that couldn’t rest there any longer, pulling your cock out of Kazuha’s ass, finger, and thumb quickly to be wrapped around the base. You’ve got Sakura’s head in your hand still, dragging her across the dune of Kazuha’s cheek, closer to the head of your cock, and she takes the hint fully, lowering her jaw until her teeth pass the head, enveloping you, eyes fluttering shut, and humming out of surprise.

“You talk too much,” you’re saying to Sakura, mouthful of your cock, tongue slipping and pulling with her head in the ways that she knows you’ve ascended from before. “I thought I had you up on the ropes earlier; guess I didn’t do much, but we can fix that later.” It’s incredibly difficult for you to not lose your insanity, transitioning from Kazuha’s tight ass and into the addicting heat of Sakura’s mouth, taking you past the halfway mark, head dipping past her soft palette and into the hollow of her throat, cheeks puffing and coughing up spit to soak the areas already covered from the wetness in Kazuha’s ass. “Fucking-”

Sakura’s sharp inhale for air sends you in check, as her welled-up eyes watch your cock sink back into Kazuha’s ass, face crinkling when the tightness is a little hard to break into before you’re sliding back in and out with ease.

So it just flows the way it goes. A turn-taking kind of structure you’ve established. You thrust inside Kazuha’s tight ass for a few strokes, pull yourself out, and nestle your cock into those pretty lips of Sakura’s. The pair of them humming in approval and giggling under their breaths as you take the fun for yourself, using one hole after the other. Kazuha’s face is riddled with sweat, the hot pink shade running across her cheeks. Sakura’s is also the same, welled-up tears as she holds herself down the hard line of your cock.

These sluts. Your sluts. Many would’ve wished to be in your shoes. But you’re the lucky pick among the both of them.

“My good girls,” you mumble, groaning as you up the takes in one tight ass and one pretty fucking mouth. “Could die like this every day, using you two like this. A fucking dream.”

Sakura guides you back into the rim of Kazuha’s ass, hand posing as the makeshift pipe when your cockhead nudges back into her, groaning like crazy to the added pressure of her fingers and palm. Your body twinges a bit, gradually building up the slaps with every follow-through more quickly than the previous hit.

“My, fuck- holy fuck-”

“What’s the matter?” Sakura’s fast to assess the condition as Kazuha’s moans start to bounce around in every wall and corner in the room, watching as you keep fucking yourself into Kazuha and her ass, “Too much to handle? Oh god, you’re about to bust, aren’t you? Kazuha look, he’s going to cum again soon for you, baby.”

You could probably hear the sirens calling within your head. Kazuha’s hips are moving on their own and not in line with yours. Tensing, tensing, then relaxing, and it flip-flops. You can see in the muscles and how they sort of cramp up per se, how her moans are a lot more vocal as to earlier, when you feel down her cunt and be surprised how she’s oozing in your fingers, her ass clenching around your cock, clinging.

And the brain overload to not blow it makes you pull out, flicking your cock up in the air as you watch the arch in Kazuha’s back deepen. Sakura’s got a palm full of the oil, slathering it nicely - hand coiling you where it feels right.

“One more push,” Sakura pleads, resting her head down the midline of Kazuha’s back, both hands on her ass, spreading her open for you, “please, just for us.”

So.

You do as Sakura says, pressing your cockhead back into the soft coil of muscle, Kazuha’s body greatly accepting you - grabbing and stretching and inviting all of you. She’s buried her head back into the cushion, muffling the pained whines, pulling to the right so that the breathing is a bit easier to tolerate, and the rush soon after is a spell of your own.

Sakura’s hands hold firm on the plush of her ass, pulling outward and pressing inward when you’ve sheathed yourself, the vice ten times tighter than what it already is. Kazuha’s ass clutches around the head of your cock, and with every pound that you dish out to her, the more audible the clashes of skin are. Your upper body is starting to buck forward, the lower half losing composure in the routine that it built for itself, Kazuha’s mouth is parted open just like Sakura's - mouthing - keep going, yes, fuck my ass, just like that, god, your cock, just need you to-

“Babes, I’m going-”

That’s really all you say when you’re revealing your cock away from her ass, cumming all over her uncontrollably.

Shots of white are painted over porcelain. Spent, slick, and messy porcelain. You’re trying to readjust the grip around your cock, pointing your tip inside the open hole of Kazuha, shooting a measly two or three spurts, hips trembling as she gets help from Sakura to hold her ass open for you.

Sakura, unfortunately, gets caught in the crossfire. Earring a few scattered streams of your release all over her face, some in her mouth, and plenty into her hair.

“Mmmm,” breathes Sakura, tongue running across both upper and lower profiles of her lips, hooking the taste of you on her buds. Kazuha still has her face down, buried in the sheets, ass up, as she could legitimately not move a single muscle in her body after being wrecked for god knows how long. She’s softly sobbing into the pillowcase; bruises spread out across her skin, visible red prints highlighted on her cheeks, but she’s managed to calm down. The breathing is starting to stabilize. “Look at that: two loads from you this morning. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Should’ve came inside my ass.” Kazuha suggests, finally letting her frame fall to the side as you and Sakura both observe the obvious drip of cum oozing out of her. “This doesn’t technically count, but I want a do-over.”

You and Sakura both exchange this look with a singular eyebrow, a dragged-out grin soon to follow. “Such a slut for you.” Sakura observes.

“That isn’t really new news to anyone.”

Some hours later, things get slow. It’s the weekend, or the weekday? You’re too lost to put that setting back in your head, primarily because:

“Can you guys keep it down?” Sakura asks loudly, not willing to turn her head around away from the TV when you bend your knees a bit and slip inside Kazuha’s cunt against the kitchen counter, hiking up one of your borrowed shirts you gave her to reveal the handprint still apparent on her ass. “I can’t watch the movie if I hear two horny rabbits getting it on behind me.”

“Fuck you,” Kazuha rasps, mewling when you’ve buried yourself deep to the cornerstone of your cock. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have said no to getting some seconds.” She’s dipping her head down, hiding her face in the wavy locks of her hair, but you can tell her lips are parted when you’ve got a hand to her neck, pulling to flush her backside with your front. “God, yes-”

“Don’t expect an apology from me,” you’re calling out to Sakura, who took it upon herself to finally twist and see you staring, the pumps inside Kazuha relaxed, and its own thing happening. And Kazuha’s not even moaning yet. “You only have to blame yourself for bringing a physical version of Aphrodite to the place.“

Sakura rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the television. “That’s her little secret. I guess. And it’s not my fault that you fall for it every time.”

The thing is, there isn’t really a secret to be said amongst the three of you. You’ve mapped them out to their little glances - the one quirk that gets them both going for something to follow. Dumb it down to a simple phone call or maybe a cantation laced in the words they whisper into your ear. Sakura’s right: you will fall for it.

Every. Single. Time.

#le sserafim smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #sakura smut #kazuha smut #le sserafim sakura #le sserafim kazuha #kpop x male reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 14 days ago

Note

So for new year cards...

Jack SSR is actually so cool; I like it. Malleus SSR is beautiful and all, but he really reminds me of a bride in forced marriage tropes. 😭

[Referencing the Twst JP Jan 2025 schedule!]

Finally, some good fucking food for Jack stans 😭 Port Fest feels like so long ago… fbjssbdjjs I feel like I can’t appreciate his design as much as others can. I’m not into the skintight undershirt on a character as buff as Jack is, and I'm confused as to why his gloves are... like that??? But!! I do like his fluffly little boa thing and how enthusiastic his pose is. You can tell he’s really putting his all into the New Year Sale~!

Malleus got another new hairstyle (any hairstyle that's different than his default one is a win in my book www)!! I think it's a well-liked look among his fans; I already saw so many people commenting that he looks like a love interest in a reborn as a villainess isekai or something to that effect.

I also saw some chatter around the thin fabric that Malleus seems to have over himself. A common joke is that it's a "wedding veil", but given the traditional Japanese clothes everyone is wearing for the new year, it's more likely also a Japanese article of clothing. A friend theorized that it's a 被衣 (kazuki/katsugi), a garment worn over the head that fully covers the body. These are mostly donned by noblewomen to cover their faces when they go out--and that sort of makes sense, given that Malleus himself is a noble. How demure and mindful... I thought the veil could also be a frost blanket (you know, to protect the budding flowers from the cold)?? But I'm not entirely sure right now; maybe the vignettes will give us more context!

A friend and I were speculating as to what flowers might be featured in the initial card art and the conclusion we came to was ume (plum) blossoms. The color and shape are similar, and they're a classic flower in winter anime. Something else I noticed was that the same flowers seem to appear in Sebek's New Year Attire from two years ago! If you compare Malleus and Sebek, you'll notice that the lighting is much warmer in Sebek's too. In fact, all previous SSR cards are pretty much like that, save for maybe Trey but at least Trey is shown to be in front of the shop. It really makes Malleus's card "stick out", since he's the only one that appears to be in a lonely and isolated location, just him and the plum blossoms.

On the subject of clothing worn by Japanese women! The same friend and I talked about Jamil's New Year Attire too. (Figured I'd throw this in here since I'm already talking about the other three 2025 New Year boys. Don't wanna leave him out, y'know??)

You can see that he has his hood up in the initial card artwork; my friend joked that Jamil's a newlywed. Why? Brides that choose to dress traditionally for their wedding days wear a wide white headdress/hood called a 角隠し (tsunokakushi), which covers an elaborate hairstyle like Jamils'/j. The "tsuno" (horns, as I'm sure you're all familiar with) in the name refers to the "horns of jealousy"; the tsunokakushi is meant to blanket the jealousy so she can enter her new married life at peace.

Of course, the shape, color, and context of the tsunokakushi is very different than what Jamil's got going on and the Twst team most likely did not intend for this comparison to be drawn, but I thought that this was interesting to share ^^ (*feeds Jamuil yumes this delulu cultural trivia*)

Aaaand let's close out with Floyd! The answer to his question is simple, actually. To put one's arm inside the kimono is just a very casual or relaxed way to pose. It suits Floyd and his attitude, doesn't it?

#disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #Malleus Draconia #Jamil Viper #Floyd Leech #Jack Howl #jp spoilers #notes from the writing raven #yes that friend I talked with is a Jamil yume and I dedicate that section of this post to them #question #Sebek Zigvolt #Trey Clover

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cheriladycl01 · 9 months ago

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Winning Gold in Life - Lando Norris x BritishOlympicFigureSkating! Reader

Plot: You and Lando will try to coordinate his helmet designs to your figure skating outfit, so that you guys can match and win together.

"You looked amazing out there baby!" Lando grins picking you up and spinning you around as you got to the edge of the ice rink by the gate to leave.

You orange dress that had the Mclaren Logo all up the sheer see-through sleeves and on the back as if it were a tramp-stamp flowed around you hips as he spun you.

"Ah that was so nerve-racking having you watching me!" you exclaim, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. You both sat on the stands waiting for the results.

"Y/N, that was an fantastic performance. Think we have a chance for Gold!" your coach says coming over to you handing you your coat and gloves like she normally did after you'd been out on the ice.

"Thank you Maddie, I just hope it was enough!" you nod nervously. Lando rubs his hand up and down your legs in a comforting manor before pulling you into his hold.

"You did do well, no matter where you come... I'm going to be proud of you for just going out there today!" he whispers in your ear and tears start to build up in your eyeline. Some of you eyeliner and mascara had already started to melt off your face but Lando couldn't stand to see himself make it worse.

"Ohhhh, don't cry baby!" he laughs seeing your little pouty expression that he found adorable. You look at him is his thumbs wipe under your eyes trying to fix the black and brown makeup that had started to streak and make you loosely resemble a Panda.

As you waited for the results to come in, you anxiously bite your lips until you hear you name said by the Chinese commentator before the English one making you look at Lando and your trainer.

"Was that my name or am i tripping?" you ask looking between them and Lando has a huge grin on his face.

"That was your name baby, GOLD!" he exclaims and you crouch down into a sort of squat in shock. Tears streaming down your face.

"Y/N come on! Onto the ice!" you trainer grins and you take Lando's hand dragging him so he's as close to the barriers between the ice and the stadium seats as possible.

You see the camera on you and the other two medalists who you immediately pull into hugs, you'd gotten close to them since you guys landed here in Beijing.

You stake out to where the podium is and stand on the top place, getting help from someone to get up onto it. You smile at your flag, proud of what you've done for team GB.

The medal gets placed around you neck after the others and you get handed your flowers as you all stand listening to the British National Anthem, your hand on your heart and medal while you look up trying to keep the tears at bay.

You skate back and see Lando is filming your arrival making you make a silly face at the camera before showing your cold medal to him and the camera with a big cheesy grin on you face.

"Darling I'm so proud of you!" he smiles pulling you in for a hug and kisses your forehead as he takes a second to observe you.

"I love you so much, having you here for support was everything!" you admit, knowing you probably wouldn't have done as well if he wasn't here cheering you on.

"Well, now that you've got your first gold. I think it's time that I got my first win..." he smiles.

"Yeah? Will that be in Bahrain with your new matching lid" you grin at him and he nods.

"Need my good luck charm with me, if I'm going to win!"

And that was how you found yourself once again in the fuel scented paddock that you'd become accustomed too over the few years you'd been dating Lando for.

"Things have been looking promising babe! You guy's sandbagged hard!" you grin, knowing there was a lot more oophm to the car than what they'd let on in February's pre-season testing.

"Zac's orders. We'll be up there with Red Bull and Mercedes this year!" he grins and FP1 and FP2 proved that. He had a mega performance having the quickest time in the first and going third fastest in the second.

Sunday came around far to quickly for your liking and you were sat in the paddock in shorts and Lando's Mclaren Shirt for the warm weather Bahrain had brought. You even had to go to the merch stand to by yourself a McLaren hat because the darkness to you hair had started to burn the top of you head.

It was an embarrassing interaction, you asked for a Lando Norris McLaren hat but it was so busy and so loud they'd mistaken it for a Lewis Hamilton Mercedes hat so you were strolling through the paddock with that on your head.

"Ahhh, well if it isn't my biggest fan Y/N Y/L/N!" Lewis says catching you as he strides past on his scooter stopping to talk to you.

"They made a mistake at the merch shop. I didnt have the heart to correct them..." you chuckle and he laughs as well, he pulls out a pen starting to sign it while it was on your head.

"For my biggest fan" he laughs and you cant help but laugh as well. Only seconds later do the media catch on to the two athletes conversing and pull them up on it.

"Hey guys, how are we doing today!" one of the interviewers asks making you freeze a little like a deer in headlights.

"I'm doing great, just you know spending time with a fan!" Lewis jokes making the reporters laughs and turn to you.

"Yep, big fan of his work. Ppppft whose that Lando Norris guy in pole position. I don't know him..." you joke back knowing Lewis and Lando had the front row locked out.

"Y/N, all jokes aside it's great to see you back in the paddock now after all the training ... which clearly paid off congratulations" she smiles and you blush a little nod liking to brag or show off.

"Thank you, my team and I worked really hard. I obviously had the power of Mclaren and Lando on my side and I'm happy to have achieved Gold after my not so good attempt in 2018!" you cringe remembering when you were so much younger and naive that you hadn't performed as well, just missing out on a bronze medal.

"Well all the best to you and Lando!" she grins before keeping Lewis and letting you dash off back to McLaren.

2 hours later and you were anxuously biting your nails watching Lando catch up to the lead of the race after a slow pitstop and reclaim his P1.

It wasn't until the last lap, where DRS was enabled that he could overtake Charles and take back his P1 having an advantage on the final turn and straight for him to cross the finish line in P1.

His first F1 win.

You didn't have the most graceful reaction for a WAG, that was for sure but seeing Lando win after working so hard towards his goal, you couldn't contain your emotions.

You ran up to him, and you jumped on him not caring about the wetness of his suit from sweat and you were wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as his gloved hands came down to support you holding just under your bum.

"You are amazing!" you cry pulling up his visor so you can see his own eyes that are full of tears.

You later watched on as he celebrated his podium with Charles and Lewis, and you saw the elated and happy expression on your face that you would do anything to keep on their permanently as your favourite thing about him was his smile.

That was your man... and he was forever your man.

y/user

Liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and pietra.pilao

y/user: Life recently! Winning Gold in all aspects of life ... McLaren Papaya inspired drip, and Lando getting a new lid for 2023 (I’m not allowed to show you guys till race weekend) <3

Tagged 1 person

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landonorris: my gorgeous baby! I love you 🥰❤️

-> y/user: I love you more! Thank you for all your support recently 🫶🏼❤️

mclaren: when the drip is dripping 😦🤭🧡

-> y/user: always 🧡

fan1: it’s so cute how Lando and Y/N always match🥺

fan2: Y/N show us the lid we won’t snitch!

maxfewtrell: thank you for making it to the merch drop. We miss seeing you!

-> y/user: missing you too Max 🫶🏼

pietra.pilao: beautiful, gorgeous girl

-> y/user: no you 👆🏼☺️

-> pietra.pilao: let’s date ❤️

-> y/user: YES! Spa days for life 🫣🫶🏼

fan3: P and Y/N’s friendship is so funny 🥺🧡

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Back to training, without my mans 😭🫶🏼

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kkanabel · 29 days ago

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drunken confessions ✫ chapter ii

curly x reader

summary: Curly is the designated driver, so he’s helping you as you vomit your guts out because you pushed yourself too hard with the liquor. He knows you don’t like him the same way he does—right? At least he thinks so before you confess to him that you think about cuddling with him after sex. In this chapter, you both start to blur the lines.

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter - next chapter (comin soon)⇨

words: ~4.2k

t/w: friends with benefits!!, mutual(?) pining, confused!reader, hookup culture, slim jim exists (but isn't present in this chapter), pretty light yucky under the cut(very tame smut), gn!pronouns for reader (mostly, i think. if i fucked up somewhere, pls let me know), mention of s**ual harassment

a/n: more self-indulgent shit <3

The next morning greeted you with a relentless pounding in your head and a parched throat that felt like sandpaper. You groaned, shifting against the tangle of blankets before the events of last night hit you like a freight train.

At first, it had seemed like just a harmless, tipsy dream—a montage of Curly’s face, as breathtakingly gorgeous as ever. But as the dream played on, the edges of reality began to creep in. The heat in his cheeks, the incredulous look in his eyes, the sound of your own drunken voice slurring out “tiddiesss”—it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory.

Your eyes flew open, wide with horror.

“Oh my God,” you whispered to yourself, voice hoarse. You sat up so fast your head spun, and you buried your face in your hands.

I sexually harassed one of my closest friends, you realized, mortified.

What the hell is wrong with you? Curly was nothing but kind to you—always the one to look out for you when you drank too much or got yourself into some sort of embarrassing predicament.

And last night? He’d been an absolute saint, driving you home without a single complaint. And what had you done in return? Made him feel uncomfortable and made a complete fool of yourself.

He wasn’t even interested in you like that—you knew that!—and yet your drunk self had decided to be the absolute worst.

You groaned again, louder this time, and grabbed your phone off the bedside table. Of course, Curly, ever the gentleman, had not only driven you home but also plugged in your phone to charge and even left a water bottle next to your phone. The reminder of his kindness only deepened the pit of shame in your stomach.

As you tapped the screen and drank from the water bottle, your faint reflection on the dark screen caught your eye. Your heart sank further. You looked like a disaster—deep shadows under your eyes, your hair sticking out in every direction, and your skin dull and puffy from dehydration. You sighed, resolving to pull yourself together.

Tonight, you decided. The group was coming over for dinner, and Curly would be there. You’d apologize—really apologize—not just for last night but for all the other moments when you’d let your insecurities spill over into bad decisions. But for now, you needed to get to the bathroom and make yourself look halfway human.

By the time the evening rolled around, the smell of simmering sauces and roasted meats and vegetables filled your small apartment, doing its best to mask the lingering scent of cleaning products from your earlier frenzy. You glanced at the table, double-checking that everything was perfect. Plates, glasses, and cloth napkins were arranged neatly, and you’d even lit a few candles in an effort to create a warm, inviting atmosphere.

You stepped back, pressing your palms against your thighs to keep them from trembling. Everything was perfect—at least on the surface. Inside, your stomach twisted like a wrung-out towel, the weight of seeing Curly again sitting heavily in your chest.

The knock at the door jolted you out of your spiraling thoughts. You smoothed your shirt and opened it, a bright smile already plastered on your face.

Daisuke was the first to step in, his easy grin lighting up the room. “I come bearing gifts!” he announced grandly, holding up a bottle of wine like a wizard revealing a prized elixir. He sniffed the air and let out a low whistle. “Wow, smells amazing in here!”

Anya followed close behind, giving you a quick hug before dropping her bag by the couch. “Oh my, you’ve outdone yourself,” she gushed, eyeing the spread on the table while placing down a pie she’d made on the kitchen counter. Everything about the pumpkin pie was perfect—a perfectly smooth surface with dollops of whipped cream that were piped on with precision.

“Don’t get too excited,” you said with a laugh, your nerves making it come out a bit stilted. “I might’ve accidentally over-salted the potatoes.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Daisuke teased, and you rolled your eyes at him, grateful for the distraction.

“And as if you didn’t overcook the salmon last time,” you shot back, elbowing him lightly. His groan of mock defeat made you smile, the exchange doing wonders to ease your nerves—until Curly stepped through the doorway.

The sight of him hit you like a freight train. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the doorway, and his casual jeans and perfectly fitted T-shirt might as well have been tailor-made for all the effect they had on you. His golden hair caught the warm candlelight, giving him an almost ethereal glow, and when he smiled—a small, shy one—you felt the air in your lungs turn heavy.

Your heart clenched.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor—

You tore your gaze away, fixating on the food instead, pretending to fuss over the table settings.

“Hey,” he said simply, his voice warm and unassuming, as though last night hadn’t happened.

The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the soft upward curve of his lips—it all felt like too much. Your chest tightened, the sting of regret bubbling to the surface.

“Hey,” you replied, the word slipping out softer than you intended.

As everyone settled in, you found yourself stealing glances at Curly from across the table. He seemed relaxed, chatting with Daisuke about some new project he was working on, his easy tone lulling you into a false sense of security. But every so often, his gaze flickered toward you—quick, fleeting glances that made your pulse race. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to catch your eye or trying to actively avoid it.

You poured yourself a glass of wine, swirling it absently as you stared down at the roasted zucchini on your plate. Your mind wandered, already concocting a way to escape your spiraling thoughts after the night was over. Maybe you’d call one of the people you regularly hooked up with, someone uncomplicated who wouldn’t make you feel like this. But first—you had to apologize. Properly.

Anya leaned closer, her voice a low murmur. “You okay? You seem… distracted.”

You forced a smile, shaking your head. “Just tired,” you said, your tone light but unconvincing.

She studied you for a moment but let it go, turning her attention back to the table. Meanwhile, you busied yourself pouring drinks for everyone, clinging to the repetitive motions to ground yourself.

You needed to find the right moment to apologize. You just hoped Curly wouldn’t leave before you got the chance.

Unconsciously, you refilled his glass multiple times, oblivious to the way his cheeks grew pinker with each pour.

He wasn’t drunk—not even close. Curly had always been a lightweight with his emotions, not alcohol. It was you being this close, leaning over him with your hesitant, apologetic air, that sent his thoughts spinning.

When the plates were empty, you clapped your hands, forcing cheer into your voice. “Who’s up for dessert?”

“Pumpkin pie courtesy of Anya!” you added, smiling at her.

Daisuke perked up immediately. “Any dessert Anya touches turns to gold,” he said dreamily. “I still think about that key lime pie sometimes…”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, watching him pat and rub at his stomach. Moments ago, he’d claimed he was too full to move, yet now he seemed ready to demolish an entire pie by himself.

“I’ll help,” Curly blurted suddenly, standing so quickly his chair scraped against the floor. He began collecting empty plates, avoiding your gaze as his movements turned brisk and purposeful.

The two of you found yourselves alone in the kitchen.

You watched him from the doorway, your gaze trailing over his broad back as he rinsed the dishes and placed them carefully into the dishwasher. So thoughtful, so helpful, so kind. Your chest swelled with something bittersweet—gratitude tinged with guilt. How could someone so lovely have been dragged into this… mess you created?

Your breath caught when you noticed the tips of his ears were pink. Why in the world-

“Curly,” you said, your voice soft, hesitant.

He stiffened slightly, pausing mid-motion. “Yeah?”

God, you felt so guilty. He must feel so uncomfortable.

“Later, when everyone’s about to leave… could I have a word with you? Privately?”

His shoulders twitched, and he tilted his head slightly upward, his blonde hair catching the light. You winced, imagining the worst—he must be uncomfortable, must hate this, must hate you. But then he turned to face you, his expression something softer, something… nervous?

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks a little red. “I’d like to talk to you too.”

Your heart plummeted to your stomach. What did he have to talk to you for?

You moved to the counter, your hands trembling slightly as you plated slices of pumpkin pie. “Curly, just to preface, I—” You stopped, your throat tightening. “I’m so sorry.”

His eyebrows flew up, confusion flickering across his face. His lips parted like he was about to ask you something, but Daisuke’s loud laughter from the dining room interrupted the moment.

You forced a weak smile, handing him two plates. “Let’s go.”

You carried the dessert back to the table together, but the knot in your chest only grew heavier. The words lingered on your tongue, waiting for a moment that might never come.

A couple of hours and a few glasses of wine later, Anya and Daisuke exchanged a glance you couldn’t quite decipher. Anya sighed—almost contentedly—while rising from her seat.

“Well, it’s about time for us to head out. Thanks for the amazing dinner!”

You walked them to the door, your mind already spinning from what was coming next. Hugging them both tightly, you forced a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks for the wine, Daisuke. And Anya, the pie was heavenly as always.”

“No problem,” Daisuke said, grinning as he patted his stomach. “And remember: dessert stomachs are a thing.”

As their laughter faded down the hallway and the door clicked shut, the air in the room grew heavier. Turning back, you saw Curly sitting hunched over on the couch, his elbows propped on his knees and his fingers laced together. His cheeks were tinged pink, and his biceps flexed subtly as he leaned forward, lost in thought.

Your gaze lingered on him—on the quiet strength he carried, the way the light made his hair glow like gold. But then you tore your eyes away, guilt curling tighter in your chest.

“Curly, I—” You hesitated, deciding to sit across from him rather than beside him, worried you might make him uncomfortable. Your hands fidgeted in your lap as you avoided his gaze. “What I did last night… It was so inappropriate, and I’m so sorry. I probably made you so uncomfortable, and—”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. The sound disarmed you, warm and low, like a summer breeze cutting through the tension in your chest.

“Hey.” His voice was gentle as his eyes met yours. “I didn’t mind it.”

Your breath caught. You couldn’t look away, the way his gaze softened and lingered making your heart beat faster.

Before you could process his words, Curly stood up and walked over, taking the seat beside you. The couch dipped under his weight, and the warmth radiating off him was so tangible you felt your pulse stutter. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him.

“Wait. What?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“I mean…” His face turned redder, and he coughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t mind if… you wanted to cuddle after… sex.”

Your mind froze, his words reverberating in your ears as your brain raced to make sense of them.

Cuddle? After what?

And then it hit you.

“Oh my God,” you shrieked, burying your burning face in your hands. “What else did I say to you while I was drunk!?”

The mortification was instant and complete. Your skin prickled with heat as your thoughts spiraled to the worst possible scenarios. Whatever it was, it had to be bad. You didn’t trust your drunk self to have any sense of shame or decorum.

Curly chuckled, the sound light and amused, and your heart twisted in response. “I don’t mind,” he said softly, gently prying your hands from your face. His touch was impossibly warm, firm but careful, as if you were something delicate.

You reluctantly let him, meeting his gaze with what had to be the most mortified expression he’d ever seen.

“I was hoping for it, actually,” he added, his lips quirking into a shy smile that made your stomach flip.

For a moment, you could only stare at him, utterly appalled. Sitting this close to you, holding your wrists, was the most handsome man you’d ever met. And he wasn’t just okay with what you’d said—he liked it? Wanted it?

This had to be a dream. Or a nightmare.

As if to confirm this wasn’t some cruel trick of your imagination, his hands shifted. One slid from your wrist to cup your face, his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek. His hands were big and warm, his touch tender in a way that made your breath hitch.

“May I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The words sent a jolt through you. His gaze searched yours, his eyes patient yet tinged with vulnerability. He wasn’t teasing. He was serious.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, Curly, please,” you blurted, the words tumbling out before you could process them.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a soft smile before he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. The kiss was so gentle, so achingly tender, it made your chest ache.

His hand stayed on your cheek, his other resting lightly on the couch beside you, keeping his presence steady but not overwhelming.

Your mind reeled. You couldn’t reconcile this—the softness of his kiss, the warmth of his touch—with your guilt and embarrassment. But as his lips moved against yours, slow and deliberate, the world seemed to fade away.

When he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his hand lingered against your cheek. His eyes searched yours, his expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

“You’re… okay?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with hesitation.

“I…” You blinked, still dazed, your heart thundering in your chest. “I don’t understand. Why would you want this? After everything I said—everything I did—”

He kissed you again.

“I know you’re embarrassed,” he continued, his voice steady but kind. “And I know you think you messed up, but you didn’t. Not for me.”

The sincerity in his gaze was unbearable. You wanted to look away, but he held you there, his hand grounding you as your emotions churned.

The kiss lingered in the air long after you’d pulled away. Curly’s gaze locked onto yours, searching for something—anything—that would anchor him in the chaos you’d just unleashed. Your expression was a mix of confusion and something else he couldn’t name, and he was sure his face wasn’t much better.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off before you could speak. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he said quickly, his voice lower than usual, rougher. His hand still rested on your cheek, the warmth of your skin seeping into his palm.

Your brow furrowed, but you didn’t push. “Okay,” you murmured, almost hesitant.

He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Maybe we... take things slow?” His stomach twisted even as the words left his mouth. He wanted you—God, he wanted you—but not like this. Not with you still looking at him like you were bracing for a rejection that he’d never even consider giving.

But then you nodded, a small, nervous laugh escaping your lips. “Yeah, sure. Slow sounds good.” Your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, and he felt his confidence from the wine slipping.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward, exactly—it was heavy, charged. He could feel it in the way your shoulder brushed his when you leaned back, in the way your foot tapped anxiously against the floor.

“Curly,” you began, breaking the quiet. He turned to face you, his chest tightening at the seriousness in your tone. “About what happened. Where do we go from here?”

He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he waited for you to continue.

“We could...” He hesitated, biting his lip. “We could just keep it casual. No pressure, no expectations. We don’t have to make it... a thing.”

Although those words came out of his own mouth, it hit him like a gut punch, and he hated how quickly his brain latched onto it. He hated himself for even considering it, for wanting to be close to you in any way he could. “No expectations,” he said again, his voice flat. He was so afraid of you rejecting him that he ended it right there—putting you into a situation he knew you were comfortable with.

After all, he knew you were completely comfortable with just hooking up with people. A part of him didn’t even consider that you’d ever want to be in a committed relationship. And honestly, you thought the same thing about him.

You nodded, expression unreadable. “Yeah, sure. I mean, we’re adults. We can handle it, right?”

He wanted to tell you “nevermind” and “no”. Wanted to tell you that he didn’t want “casual,” didn’t want to be another passing thing in your life. But the thought of losing you, the thought of not having what little you were okay with offering made his chest ache.

“Yeah,” he said finally, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. “If that’s what you want.”

Even then, his mind raced at the idea you’d even be okay with kissing him. Fuck, he thought you didn’t even find him attractive whatsoever.

The room felt smaller, the air thick with something. Curly’s hand started cupping your face again, his pretty eyes searching yours as if for answers to questions he didn’t dare ask out loud. His eyelashes brushed his cheeks as he blinked, watching the nerves show in your face.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

And with that, the dam broke.

With a groan that was half pain, half relief, he pulled you closer. Your mouths collided, the kiss deepening as he lost all semblance of control. His other hand found the back of your neck, pulling you closer still. Everything was so warm about him—his hands, his lips, his hold, everything. You found yourself trying not to melt in his hold.

It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken desires, of quiet yearnings kept hidden beneath a veil of friendship. Even then, it wasn’t honest.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you kissed him back with a passion that surprised even you. You felt alive, your body responding in a way it never had with anyone else. His scent was intoxicating, the warmth of his skin like a blanket on a cold night. You fumbled at the hem of his shirt, eager to feel more of him, to explore the muscular planes of his body that you’d admired from afar.

He broke the kiss, his chest heaving. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick with need.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. “Yes,” you breathed.

With a gentle nod, he stood, lifting you in his arms with no effort and carrying you to your bed. For all you knew, you looked up at him like he hung the stars. The thought of it made your eyes wrench away from his face, still.

He laid you down with care, his hands roaming over your body as he removed your clothing. You felt a thrill of excitement as his fingertips brushed against your skin, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

He took in a sharp breath as he felt the planes of your body, thoughts conflicted but so satisfied all at the same time.

The room was a blur of sensations as you lost yourself in the moment. The weight of his body pressing down on yours, the heat of his breath against your neck, the way his hands moved with a confidence that sent shivers down your spine. There was no room for doubt, no space for regrets. Only the here and now, the feel of his skin against yours, and the promise of pleasure that grew with every shared touch.

He unbuttoned his jeans with a smoothness that belied his own excitement and then slid off your pants and underwear off in one fluid movement.

Curly’s eyes roamed over your naked body, a mix of hunger and awe in his gaze. He leaned in, kissing a trail from your belly button to your chest, taking his time to savor every inch of you. His mouth closed around one nipple, eliciting a gasp from you, while his hand explored further down.

The world outside the room ceased to exist as he entered you, filling you in a way that was both familiar and new.

There were no words, only the sound of your breaths mingling with his, the slap of skin against skin, and the heady rhythm that grew faster, more urgent with each passing moment.

You felt the tension build, your body tightening around him like a vice. He kissed you again, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips, and you knew you were close. So close.

And then, with a cry that seemed to tear itself from the very depths of your soul, you climaxed, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. He followed, his own release a silent exclamation of ecstasy as he twitched and thrusted once more.

As the aftershocks of passion ebbed away, the room grew still, the silence broken only by the sound of your unsteady breaths. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling, your body warm against Curly’s, his steady heartbeat thumping beneath your ear as you leaned against his chest. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on you—not in regret, but in the terrifying awareness that this wasn’t just physical for you.

Your chest felt heavy, though you couldn’t bring yourself to move. His hand rested idly on your back, his thumb tracing soft circles that you weren’t sure he even realized he was doing. The quiet intimacy of it made your heart ache. You tried to focus on the present, on the afterglow, on the way his skin felt against yours, but your thoughts kept spiraling.

This wasn’t supposed to feel this way. It never has when you hooked up with others.

“Stay the night, Curly,” you said suddenly, your voice softer than you intended. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him, catching the flicker of surprise in his eyes.

His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he smiled—soft, hesitant, but undeniably warm. “You sure?” he asked, his voice low and still tinged with the rasp of moments earlier.

You nodded, biting back the urge to explain yourself too much. “I don’t want to have to treat you like... the others,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The confession hung in the air, vulnerable and raw. You swallowed hard, the truth settling uncomfortably between you. You already knew—you couldn’t even imagine sleeping with (or even holding—at this point) anyone else after him.

His chest rose and fell beneath your head in a steady rhythm, his gaze fixed on yours. For a moment, you thought he might push back, remind you of the rules you both agreed on. But instead, his hand slid up to your hair, his fingers weaving gently through it. “You don’t have to,” he murmured, the weight of his words carrying more meaning than you could unpack in that moment.

You melted a little at his words, your lips curving into a small smile despite yourself. The knot in your chest eased just enough for you to breathe again. You hadn’t realized how tightly you’d been holding on until now.

You were still staring at his face after it all, still trying to regain your bearings. Then, breaking the tension with a casualness that felt both maddening and endearing, he grinned at you, boyish and bright. “Wanna grab milkshakes?”

The abruptness of it startled a laugh out of you, your forehead dropping against his chest as the tension between you shifted into something lighter. “Milkshakes?” you repeated, lifting your head to meet his gaze again.

“Yeah, I know a place that’s open late. Best chocolate shake you’ve ever had. Trust me,” he said, his grin widening. “Though I prefer malt.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, the sound soft and unguarded. “Fine,” you said, shaking your head. “But you’re paying.”

“That was the plan anyway.”

And just like that, the moment shifted. The raw, vulnerable edges dulled slightly, tucked away for another time. But as he kissed your forehead and started pulling on his clothes, you couldn’t help but feel it—your heart was already too tangled for this to stay as simple as you pretended it could be.

a/n: let me know what you all think pleeeease!

big thank you to all the commentors, reblogs, and general LOVE that i've been getting from these fics. it means everything to me & keeps me writing <3

true curly tiddie yucky coming in the next chapter lol

taglist is open! lmk if you want to be on the taglist for just curly/mouthwashing characters or if you want the news on alll my fics.

also might be accepting requests hehe! i can’t guarantee that i can do em, but i’ll accept ideas!

as always, not beta read, please let me know if there are any typos/inconsistencies lmfao;; stay safe & hydrated as always!

thanks for reading! <3

crossposted on ao3

taglist: @m-carriaga2021, @skyeconch, @wolfsune09, @luvsymai

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#mouthwashing #mouthwashing smut #mouthwashing game #Captain curly #curly x reader #curly mouthwashing #curly x reader smut #captain curly smut #curly fluff #mouthwashing fluff #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #grant curly #curly smut

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