#because things are all starting to come together but there is story yet to be told!!
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decided to watch all of buck’s breakups last night and here are (part) of the conversations/how each of the breakups played out to compare and contrast if you so desire. i didn’t include the entire conversations because it would be too long and i think the parts i included capture the core of the breakups well enough.
note: information in square brackets is just some context i included since i didn't add the full conversations
buck and abby, breakup, 1x10:
[after abby’s mom passes and she books a ticket to ireland in an effort to find herself and what she wants]
abby: “. . .i care about you so much. you’re amazing. and these last few months, i think you've gotten me, at least halfway, to the person i want to be. but I've got to do this [go to ireland/travel] so that i know i have something to give.”
buck: “i’m excited for you. almost as much as i am, um, sad for me. i’m gonna miss you.”
abby: “i’m gonna miss you, too.”
[when buck is dropping her to the airport]
abby: "you're not gonna come in with me?"
buck: "i learned a while ago, you never go beyond the glass doors."
abby: "i must be crazy to be leaving you behind."
buck: "you're not leaving anything behind. you're moving toward something. and i'm gonna be right here when you come back, okay? go on. you got this, okay?"
abby: "take care of yourself, okay?"
buck: "you, too, abby."
buck and abby, ‘closure’, 3x18:
[after abby and buck meet for the first time since 1x10 when she and her finance are in a train derailment and buck + the 118 save his life]
abby: “. . .i just had no sense of self. i had to leave everything that i knew so that i could remember who i actually am.”
buck: “and you did, right? i mean, you did remember, but you still didn't come home.”
abby: “yeah, i know. i think i was afraid that if i came back, i would become that person again. because i missed you. i wanted to see you. but i didn't trust myself.”
buck: “because being here, being with me, you might lose yourself again?”
abby: “yeah.”
buck: “i’m glad to see you happy, abby. you deserve it.”
—
buck and ali, 2x18:
[after buck’s leg gets crushed under the fire truck and it hits ali what it means to be with a firefighter]
ali: “. . .look, it’s not like i didn't know you were in a dangerous line of work when i met you, you know, ten stories up of a collapsing high rise.”
buck: “exactly.”
ali: “that was one day. one day of my life, evan. it’s every day for you. i’m just starting to really understand what that means.”
buck: “wait, so-so you want me to quit my job, that's what you're asking me to do?”
ali: “no, i would never, i would never ask you to do that. listen. i know it's who you are. i’m just not sure. if it's…”
buck: “…who you are.”
ali: “hey. i don't know yet. okay?”
—
buck and taylor, 5x18:
[after taylor publishes the story about jonah buck had asked her not]
taylor: “. . .i’m sorry you're still upset about the story.”
buck: “you’re not sorry for what you did, though.”
taylor: “the story was gonna come out regardless. if i hadn't have broken it, someone else would have.”
buck: “you couldn't have called me first? no. you-you just, you figured i’d be fine. i’d get over it.”
taylor: “buck, i wasn't trying to hurt you or anyone else. i was just trying to get the truth out there. a truth the public has every right to know.”
buck: “this is literally our first argument all over again.”
taylor: “which is why we shouldn't be having it. you knew who i was when we started dating.”
buck: “i guess i thought i could learn to live with it.”
taylor: “i don't want to be something you have to learn to live with.”
buck: “and i don't want to keep on making the same mistakes. i need things to be different, taylor.”
taylor: “okay. i’m willing to try that. clean slate.”
buck: “yeah. just not together.”
—
buck and tommy, 8x06:
[after bucks tells tommy that he also dated abby]
buck: ". . .my relationship with abby was—it was the most transformative of my life. until now. look, i-i think one of the reasons that i am so comfortable with you is-is 'cause you're so comfortable with you."
tommy: "i wasn't always that way."
buck: "i know, i-i do. and honestly, it just makes me admire you more."
buck: "i want you to move in with me. i want you to move in with me. i-'m ready to take the next step. and i'm not saying let's get married or engaged, even though we would have the right, thanks to the brave people who came before, including you. all I'm saying is, why be apart when we can be together?"
tommy: "evan, that is so sweet but I can't move in with you."
buck: "and why not?"
tommy: "because, i know how this ends."
buck: "uh, wh-what's that supposed to mean?"
tommy: "look, evan. you're an incredible guy. big-hearted. hot as hell. funny. impulsive. but what you're feeling right now is... is new. and it's exciting, and it feels like forever. but you're still figuring yourself out. and that's good."
buck: "what are you saying?"
tommy: "i'm saying no matter how bad i wanted to be, i'm not your last. i'm your first."
buck: "well, hey, they-they can be the same thing."
tommy: "but they usually aren't. if i were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it but you'd end up breaking my heart. and i, i don't think that i could deal with that."
tommy: "i should go."
buck: "wait, wait, wait, hey, hey, um... wait, d-did you just break up with me?"
tommy: "yeah. i guess i did. believe me, i didn't see it coming, either. should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. i'll see you around, buck."
#evan buckley#bucktommy#i’m not really sure who this will be of interest to lol but these were the conversations in case anyone’s curious#let me know what yall think
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About Zayne's nightmares...
The most unrealistic thing about Zayne is that he's a functional working adult that seemingly has put his life together at 27 not because he's young or a prodigy but because he's said to have nightmares since he was 12?? Like... I feel like this theme might be a bit overlooked but just think about it deeply, having constant nightmares fucks your mind like really REALLY bad, I can genuinely say this by experience and also as someone who has had trouble to have a healthy sleeping schedule since I was at highschool (like, for example, right now, I should be sleeping instead of writing this...).
There was a time I would have nightmares almost everytime I went to sleep during a really hard time in my life. Of course, the topic about those nightmares was almost always the same, not like the nightmares repeated themselves but they always revolved about the same things that I was actually working in therapy at the moment. Back then I was jobless and medicated most part of the time, I was pretty dysfunctional.
I suppose that's why when I listened to "Fragmented Dreams" for the first time it was the time I said "Yeah, this is my man". I love how he's always nagging MC about sleeping early because I know by experience that not sleeping properly can mess up with your mind pretty bad, and probably he knows it too. It truly is a showcase of love how he worries about her sleep like that and it also showcases how strong minded he is for enduring too much stress and remind kind constantly.
I love how healthy he is. I like to think that he's overcome all the stressful stuff he's gone thru bc of his discipline and healthy life style, but realistically it would take him some more to deal with all of that.
Yes, all of the guys have been through some very rough stuff and they all need therapy, but my point with Zayne comes with the fact that not having a good sleeping schedule and on top of that having constant nightmares can mess up with your perception of reality and induce you a bad depression or other mental health issues. Everytime I remember Zayne's main story branch when they're trapped in Zayne's dream and MC leaves him alone and he starts listening to Willian, Georgie and his Mom so he has to remind himself "It's not real, it's not real" I deeply feel that and I just want to hug him so bad :(
I think I'd like to see a card where they explore the consecuences of their past in their psyche more deeply. I can't help remembering this post which was one of the first posts you unlock with Zayne:
It was there when I just knew that even if he looked quiet, he had a lot to say but didn't know how to express.
Another thing I'd like to highlight about this is that actually I love the emotional maturity that Zayne displays about dealing with such issues like nightmares, traumatic experiences and literally being exposed to see people dying 24/7 while being someone that feels a lot yet says little. He's dealt with this the best way he can, no wonder why he came to be quite serious and inexpressive or sarcastic. Not allowing himself to express other emotions than seriousness or sarcasm was like keeping himself in check so he wouldn't spill everything he feels and considering how stressing is his job already, it just makes sense, but that didn't mean Zayne didn't feel because he feels too much and too deeply and worries sick about ppl and especially about MC.
Of course, bottling up his emotions wasn't the best way to deal with them but he never used any unhealthy coping mechanism neither, like alcohol, for example (My teetotaler King ❤️) etc. Yeah, his workaholism isn't exactly healthy but not something toxic to his mind and relationships, and I've always had a feeling that he's a big foodie and addicted to sweets to give himself that boost of serotonine he needs so bad.
That's why he compares MC with sweets, being her his favorite dessert, bc she's brought all that serotonine to his life naturally and has helped him let go little by little. When he opened to her about losing Dulcie, I had a feeling that Zayne always wanted someone to listen to him but he didn't know how to ask for it and ppl around him was too afraid to even dare to suggest it. I think even in one of his anecdotes, it is said that sometimes Dr Noah wanted to tell him something but at the end ended up saying nothing.
The fact that Zayne bottled up his emotions didn't mean that he wouldn't willingly share them, he wanted to but wasn't used to it. With MC, he's slowy started to let it go and enjoy life more, allowing himself to be sad in front of her, to express his fears (about losing her) or to express his childish tantrums and indulge in his softest side. That's why also she's not only his favorite dessert but also his best painkiller ❤️
And just to finish, I've always thought this quote by Kafka fits him so well:
"Remember, you should sleep more than other people, for I sleep less than most. And I can’t think of a better place to store my unused share of universal sleep than in your beloved eyes."
#love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#zayne#lads zayne#l&ds zayne#l&ds#lnds#love and deepspace zayne
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IRINA GONSHIRA🌌💙
✨️A "little" about her✨️
Answering @yaegxr 's ask💖
AAAA I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKE HER!!🥹💖
Well, I don't have the complete story yet (because I'm not associating my OCs with Demon Slayer anymore exactly because now I'm focusing on a totally original story - but I can still write a little about this version of it), and also my blog is still a bit messy, but nothing stops me from writing now!!
Starting with the basic information!!
Name: Irina Gonshira
Age: 19 years old
Height: 1.70m
Birthday: August 23
Family:
Yuliya Gonshira - mother
Masato Gonshira - father
Liliya Gonshira - younger sister
Dmitry Gonshira - cousin
History:
Irina has always been a cheerful and determined girl. She comes from a rich and powerful family (Yuliya is one of the best demon hunters, and Masato is a very famous architect/engineer there)
Inspired mainly by her mother, since she was little, Irina had the dream of being like Yuliya, strong and able to protect everyone around her, so she starts training from a very young age, which irritated her father, who did not support her (and this generates conflicts throughout the story).
At a certain point, Irina meets Kishin, an orphan boy who was bullied by almost everyone in the orphanage where he lived, but the worst of all was Kenta, another orphan boy. Irina saves Kishin and soon the two become very attached to each other, creating a very strong friendship. And at the same time, creating a huge rivalry with Kenta.
Later, around the age of 15 to 17, Irina's life would become total chaos.
First, Yuliya had to leave for an extremely important mission, leaving her entire family behind. Since then, Irina has never heard from her mother again.
Soon, she suffered the comet incident (comic) , where a comet hit her in the middle of the forest while she was walking at night. She almost died, but the comet's energy kept her alive and changed everything in her body and mind. Irina feels more energetic and much more outgoing, even becoming much more impulsive and noisy. This energy is great for keeping her strong and ready for anything, but it is also very dangerous, because if she cannot control her feelings properly, Irina feels a strong burning sensation throughout her body, which hurts her a lot (in other words, she has "super powers" that help her and at the same time destroy her).
Another thing that happened is that her beloved friend, Kishin, turned into a demon (he had no other option, he became a demon against his will - comic ). Kishin knew that Irina's dream had always been to be a demon hunter, and now that he was one, he believed that she would hate him and that they could never be together again, so he tried to avoid her all day, because he didn't know what to do, he didn't want to end his beloved Irina's dreams.
While this was happening, at Irina's house, Masato was already tired of everything, having lost his wife (who in truth Masato didn't even care much about Yuliya at that point) and because Irina was a great disappointment to him. So Masato came up with a plan to get rid of Irina. He told her that she should leave and go on a supposed mission far away from there so that she could be part of the Sunlights (in this case, the Sunlights are like the Hashiras, but in the Sunlight Force universe). Irina believed her father without hesitation, so she left home soon after, and finally went looking for Kishin, because she couldn't leave him like that without telling him. Irina was already sad about everything that was happening, so she finally found Kishin, and her world fell apart completely.
Kishin was desperate. He tried to do everything, promise her that he would never do anything like the demons do, and he, heartbroken, said that he could leave and live in isolation if she wanted. At that point, Irina breaks down, her sense of reality was completely altered. She always heard Yuliya's stories about how all demons are evil and must be defeated, but seeing her beloved Kishin like that, she could never do something like that (and even more so because she noticed that Kishin was still the same guy she always loved), so Irina hugs him and promises that they will stay together, that it doesn't matter if he was a demon and she wanted to be a Sunlight, she dreamed of protecting those she loves, and she loves him, so the two stayed together and nothing would separate them.
So since Irina needed to go on the "mission" that Masato had told her and Kishin could no longer live there, the two left the city, and thus the various adventures that I have been writing about have happened.
Now some fun facts!
Irina's favorite food is tamago sando.
Irina is afraid of onions.
She loves collecting rocks.
She likes to cook, but she often burns all the pies she makes.
Sorry, I guess I got excited to write about her xD But still, you can always find more stuff about her with the tag #Irina Gonshira or check out my other blog @shycroissanti-comics , there are all the arts and comics I've ever made :D
Sorry if I wrote a lot of things wrong (〃ノωノ)
And please consider helping me by reblogging this゚+.(*´pωq`)゚+.💖💖
#Irina Gonshira#Sunlight Force#artists on tumblr#oc#oc lore#original charater art#original story#original character story
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𝓦ildest 𝓓reams
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮. 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨
𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚.
𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙨 / n/a
“Dude, what’s taking you so long? We’re leaving in, like, five minutes,” your brother called out, leaning against the doorframe with an impatient sigh. His messy hair and the wrinkled hoodie he always wore suggested he hadn’t spent half the time getting ready as he expected you to. “Even Hallie’s ready. *Hallie.*” He emphasized her name as if her being prepared was a historic event.
You rolled your eyes, suppressing a snarky remark, and zipped up your suitcase with an exaggerated motion just to shut him up.
“Happy now?” you muttered, brushing off the wrinkles in your sweater and glancing around the room one last time to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything. Toothbrush? Packed. Charger? Packed. The book you’d started three times but still convinced yourself you’d finish during this trip? Packed.
It was the same thing every year: Christmas break meant a week-long escape to the Camerons' lodge in the snowy mountains. It was as much a tradition as opening presents on Christmas morning, with your family and the Thorntons—family friends so close they might as well have been relatives—spending the holidays together. It had started years ago as a one-off vacation, but over time, it became something of an unspoken rule, something you all looked forward to as much as dreaded.
The drive would be long and cramped, the lodge would be drafty no matter how many logs burned in the fireplace, and someone—usually Hallie—would complain about the Wi-Fi. But none of that mattered, because those trips also brought sledding down the icy hill behind the lodge, snowball fights that always ended with Hallie storming off, and nights crowded around the fire with mugs of hot chocolate, retelling the same embarrassing stories until everyone was crying from laughter.
“You good now, or are you planning to miss the car and ruin the tradition?” your brother teased, already half-turned to head back to the chaos of your bustling household. You could hear Mom yelling from downstairs, probably at Dad for misplacing his gloves again, and Hallie’s voice chiming in with something sarcastic.
“Relax, I’m coming,” you replied, heaving the suitcase off the bed. Despite the grumbling, you couldn’t help the tiny spark of anticipation creeping into your chest. Like it or not, the trip always had a way of creating memories you’d carry long after the snow melted.
Pulling your bedroom door closed behind you, you took a breath. Ready or not, it was time to dive into another Cameron Lodge Christmas.
“Finally we can leave.” Hallie breathed out while sliding off the kitchen stool. “We’re not even out of the house yet and you’re already complaining.” You rolled your eyes while dragging your bags down the stairs.
“Finally, we can leave,” Hallie breathed dramatically, sliding off the kitchen stool with all the energy of someone carrying the weight of the world.
“We’re not even out of the house yet, and you’re already complaining,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you wrestled your bags down the stairs. The wheels on your suitcase snagged on the last step, jolting to a stop. With a grunt, you tugged it loose and glared at Holden who just stood against the doorway with a smug grin.
“Need some help there, champ?” he teased.
“I’ve got it,” you snapped, brushing past him and out the door into the crisp winter air. Your mom’s SUV sat in the driveway, already packed to the brim, the roof rack piled high with suitcases and blankets.
“Kids, hurry up! We’re burning daylight,” your dad called from the driver’s seat.
“I call window!” Hallie shouted, scrambling to claim her spot.
“Too late. I’m already here,” you said with a smug grin, sliding into the backseat and buckling up before she could argue.
The drive began as expected—cramped and chaotic. Hallie and Holden bickered nonstop, throwing barbs about who got more legroom or whose playlist was better. You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, letting their voices fade into background noise as the snowy countryside rolled by. Fields blanketed in white stretched endlessly on either side of the road, and occasional clusters of pines stood like sentinels in the frost.
At one point, your mom insisted on a game to “bring the family together.” Hallie suggested *20 Questions,* which quickly devolved into your brother guessing increasingly ridiculous things (“Is it...a flying spaghetti monster?”) just to get under her skin. By the time you were halfway up the mountain, even your dad had had enough.
“All right, new rule: no more talking until we get there,” he said, his voice carrying a rare note of authority.
“Finally,” you muttered, earning a glare from Hallie.
The lodge came into view just as the sun dipped behind the mountains, casting long shadows across the snow. Warm golden light glowed from the windows, and the smell of pinewood smoke drifted through the air as your dad pulled into the gravel driveway.
The Camerons' Range Rover was already parked out front, the roof still dusted with snow. Before the car had fully stopped, the door flew open, and Rafe Cameron emerged, a cocky grin plastered on his face. His tousled hair and the way he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets made your stomach do that stupid little flip you always tried to ignore.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” he drawled, strolling over as you stepped out of the car.
“Look who’s already being annoying,” you shot back, trying to sound unimpressed, though the warmth in his blue eyes was enough to make you falter.
“Annoying? That’s the thanks I get for waiting in the cold for you?” he teased, leaning casually against the side of the SUV.
“Did you really wait, or did you just hear the car and run out to look cool?”
He smirked, shrugging in mock indifference. “Guess you’ll never know.”
“Rafe, don’t be a jerk,” Sarah called from the porch, her voice carrying over the crunch of snow under your boots. She was bundled in an oversized scarf, flanked by Ward and Wheezy, who gave you an enthusiastic wave.
“Hey!” Wheezy called. “Did you bring the marshmallows? We’re making s’mores later!”
“Of course,” you replied, smiling. “It’s not a lodge trip without s’mores.”
As your family began unloading the car, Rafe stepped closer, lowering his voice. “So, did you miss me?”
You raised an eyebrow, pretending to think. “I don’t know… Did *you* miss me?”
He grinned, his gaze flicking to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again. “Guess you’ll never know.”
Despite the cold, a warmth bloomed in your chest.
All your life a part of your heart has always belonged to Rafe. But you knew it would never go anywhere, so when you weren’t near him that deep crushed always got shoved aside.
“Where’s Topper?” You asked Rafe as he helped you drag all your bags out the car. “What am I not enough.” Rafe asked holding his hand over his heart.
“Nah don’t think so.” You said before bringing your bags into the cabin, dragging them all the way to you and sarah’s shared room.
Rafe layed down your suitcase before offering you a quick salute, then making his way back to his room.
You bit back a smile, refusing to let him see how easily he could unravel you. The trip had barely started, and you already knew it would be one to remember.
#drew starkey#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#sarah cameron#obx season 4#obx4#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx#outer banks
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Caitvi being endgame was the thing that ruined season 2.
I don't mean that in a homophobic way - I am literally a lesbian and in the first season, I rly liked Caitvi's dynamic. Vi was given a space to heal and a person who helped and cared for her. She didn't need to protect and lead Caitlyn like she did with Jinx, Mylo and Claggor, and as a result we got to see her heal and be vulnerable as she didn't have to be strong for the people she loved. Caitlyn, on the other hand, had grown up sheltered and privileged, and her relationship with Vi allowed her to see the people of Zaun more clearly and encouraged her to help them and set aside her prejudice. This dynamic was also reflected in how the show portrayed the people of Zaun. In the first season, it's very pro-Zaun, pro-revolutionary, anti-fascism, all that.
And then the second season, Caitlyn pulled a complete 180, started acting like a fascist and hating the people of Zaun, and in the end... Vi forgives her.
Is this in character for both of them? Yes, actually. Caitlyn has grown up sheltered and was raised to look down on the people of Zaun, it's very easy for her to just turn back to that way of thinking. Vi is also incredibly dependent and forgiving when it comes to those she loves. We see how hard it is for her to let go of anyone - Vander and Powder are obvious examples. So it isn't strange that she doesn't leave Caitlyn and forgives her in an instant.
Would it have been so much more interesting if Vi didn't forgive her? Yes. A million times yes. I would've loved to see that character growth for Vi, of her establishing that boundary and deciding that she had to leave Caitlyn behind. I'm honestly kind of mad that they gave Jinx so much development and growth throughout the story and Vi has barely changed. Her political beliefs seems to be the biggest thing that has changed, and even those are rooted in the same character traits - first she was fighting for powder, now she's fighting for Caitlyn.
It's not just that I'm mad that they never address how toxic this relationship becomes in season 2. I saw someone else mention how it went from "privileged + oppressed" in s1 to "oppressor + oppressed" in s2 and if that doesn't just sound like literal abuse to you idk what to say. They frame this in the show as a normal relationship - at best, it's both of their faults and their both in a bad place mentally. They never address how horrible Caitlyn acts throughout act 1.
As a result of this, they kind of lose the whole "Piltover is an oppressive force and the people of Zaun should revolt" plot line. Instead it becomes "both sides are bad and in the wrong", just like with Caitvi's relationship. After all, the show can't properly condemn Piltover and yet support Caitlyn at the same time. And if they want Caitlyn and Vi together in a relationship that looks healthy, they have two options - either they address the flaws in the relationship and take the time required to fix them, or they ignore the flaws and pretend it's not a big deal.
They don't have the time in 2 seasons to address those flaws, though, so they decide to ignore them, and in doing so ignore the flaws in Piltover's overall treatment of Zaunites. This creates a contradicting message between the first and second seasons. In the first season, it was obvious that the Zaunites were being mistreated and that they should rise up. In the second season, they suddenly ignore all of that, and instead make the nations unite to face the "bigger problem". I didn't really like the hex tech plot line to begin with because I felt like it distracted from the more important plot line, which was the whole Piltover v Zaun thing, which they completely brushed under the rug.
Maybe this would've been better if they'd had more time to properly flesh out Caitvi's relationship, but as it is, it would've been better if it wasn't endgame at all imo.
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hsr lore noob here! would you mind telling about war period mikhail/misha? did he know gopher wood and the rest old guard of penacony at the time yet or no?
hi! so the thing about this is that the entire narrative we know is based off of two parts:
The event Clockie: Dreamjoy Memoir is a fictionalized version of Mikhail's account of his life. Because of this, I believe some of it is at least a little tainted by Mikhail's own views.*
The story quest Then Wake to Weep holds the few pieces of Mikhail's story which are actually in plain text.
*Despite being generally disliked by Literally Everyone Else, Wood is described twice as kind, once by Mikhail and once by Sunday, who are both similarly poor at reading bad intentions, although Sunday seems to have mostly trained this out of himself as he aged.
Unfortunately, this means that the answer to a lot of when/how questions will be "lol, idk" so quite a lot of this is conjecture.
Now that that's out of the way, here's a short timeline of what happened leading up to it, and then I'll point out where I sort of fudged details so that all my little guys could be together at once.
Black is "canon", purple is assumptions.
Mikhail decides to embark on the Express. Although he starts out doing menial work, which probably becomes the basis of the memoria creature called Misha, his talent for machinery is quickly picked up by Falcon Amundsen, who mentors him in the area of repairing the Express. Amundsen later dies on a Trailblazing expedition.
At some point afterward, the Express recieves a call from the IPC to come calm rioters on Penacony. When they arrive, they find out that the "rioting" was a prison break and subsequent war, triggered by the dormant Stellaron responding to the prisoners' wish to be freed and stay in their sweet dream. This is the root of the Dreamscape.
During their initial expedition into Penacony, they meet the individual named Hanunue, who is a werewolf from another planet in the Asdana star system but more importantly tries to blow them up.
After the situation calms, the Express crew (which includes Razalina and Tiernan and a few others (?)) decides that they should stay and help free the IPC's prisoners.
This is the period of time which most of my wartime Mikhail is from. Wood comes later after the war is, if not finished, at least significantly calmed on the surface – the IPC has accepted that it would be a waste of resources to continue trying to take back the planet, so although they are a quiet threat looking for any weak openings, they are mostly placid for the time being.
The problem with this continuity is that I ignored it. Wood gets to appear much earlier, although in much the same way as before: a convenient appearance to help when he is needed and to bother everyone when he is not. He doesn't fight openly as a matter of principle, considering himself removed from the conflict, although he could end it anytime if he so chose. Anything he does is not out of kindness but feeling good about himself, so since the fastest ending to the war would mean killing, he just sort of sits around and bothers people. He is there for religious matters and to solve an occasional problem and that's it.
I could probably handwave about them for pages longer. If I somehow missed something or you have other questions please ask 🫡 im a bit slow with askbox but i will try to get to them eventually
#talking#possibly edit to yap less in the morning. but i have a lot to say so..#mikhail#old penacony#gopher wood#hsr
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I could count the amount of original stories of mine that don't have horror elements on one hand and idk what that says about me
#thylacines can talk#actually i do know it says mmmmm making horror monster ocs is fun#outside of my fandom ocs my ocs and original stories arre dominated by horror elements and religious themes oopsie daisy#i might eventually post about them but the hk brainrot is going strong#but a friend of mine got a commission for me of my doomer human x monster yaoi so you'll see my Main Babygirls soon 🥰#hand in unlovable hand they're fucked and weird and it's an unhealthy relationship and it'll never work as everything is stacked against#them yet each other is all they have and if being together means their death then so be it. Peter should have probably ran. Should have left#would be better off for the majorth of the story had he never met it yet the two are so alike. it's the first thing that's ever unnderstood#him. it's the first 'person' that's ever truly cared for him. And even if it has flaws and his life was ruined by things beyond his#comprehension and he risks his life he's not willing to let go of the only person whos truly seen him and loved him. Who is willing to tear#its world apart and die for him. There are no happy endings here. They were doomed from the start. But at least they have each other.#also tfw your life and 'family' sucks so much that a literal monster who manipulated you and used your body to carry out ruthless murders is#nicer to you than your goddamn brother and friends. like damn dude.#I honestly think if Slaughter was born a human their relationship would be great for both of them they truly fit together like two puzzle#pieces. two outcasts who have so much in common and find comfort in one another. but because of the circumstances of Slaughter's nature and#what it was forced to be this is not a healthy situation or a relationship. Peter comes out better at the end and would be as good as dead#if not for meeting Slaughter so there's a silver lining in all of this but goddamn dude. the bullshit it took to get there.#The fact that his life was so bad literally getting possessed by a monster and almost being murdered numerous times and an insane amount of#trauma and bbeing a target for monsters for the rest of your life literally IMPROVED IT my guy truly cant catch a fucking break 😭😭
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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them
I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.
In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:
(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)
Perfectionism (most common)
What it looks like:
You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"
Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.
Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?
I hate everything I write
Cringing while writing
My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer
Things that can help:
Give yourself permission to suck
Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft
Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later
People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later
Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing
Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase
Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail
It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page
Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)
What it looks like:
Head empty, no ideas
What do I even write about???
I don't have a plot, I just have an image
Want to write but no story to write
Things that can help:
Google writing prompts
If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out
Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that
It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing
Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them
If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later
Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)
What it looks like:
I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt
Writing words feels like pulling teeth
I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted
I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window
Things that can help:
Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.
Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text
Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score
Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group
Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph
Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer
Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)
What it looks like:
I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop
I don't even know where to start
I love writing, but I can never seem to get started
I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)
Can't find the time or energy
Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)
Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying
Things that can help:
Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started
Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)
Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person
Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement
The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))
What it looks like:
I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene
I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going
I don't think I'm doing this right
What's an outline?
Drowning in documents
This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)
Things That Can Help:
Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working
A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go
If you don't have an outline, write one
If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it
You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural
Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them
Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers
Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough
Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism
What it looks like:
Everything in boredom/understimulation
Everything in intimidation/procrastination
You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism
Things that can help:
If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment
Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)
Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support
Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch
Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)
And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness
What it looks like:
You have symptoms of burnout or depression
Struggling with all things, not just writing
It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead
Things that can help:
Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.
Seek professional help
If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic
#writing#creative writing#writer problems#writing advice#writing community#writing a book#writing problems#novel writing#on writing#writing tips#writing help#writers on tumblr#writers block#female writers#writers of tumblr#writers blog#adhd writer
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I’d like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.
I’ve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps that’s why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.
This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didn’t want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.
Most of these were disastrous. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because they’d seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.
But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.
Here’s who was on the dating roster:
• An apprentice woodworker that we’ll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasn’t a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as “heteroflexible” and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.
• A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. We’ll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasn’t part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancée an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if I’d want to get serious.
• A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus I’d ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We weren’t terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.
And finally,
• My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.
So that’s the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.
Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.
She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.
“Do you want it?”
“Oh- I mean it’s lovely, I wouldn’t mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!”
But she was adamant. She’d give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasn’t happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot she’d done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they weren’t related by blood so it was fine.
So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasn’t ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.
I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.
I was not prepared for Jill’s response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!
What about the table?!
“You should keep the table, it’s gorgeous, you’ll be able to sell it, but I don’t expect a free table.”
Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.
There on my doorstep. The table.
It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didn’t even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.
“I can’t afford a $500 table, Jill!” I texted.
“Well you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.”
“I’m not saying it’s not worth $500” (it wasn’t, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) “but I can’t buy a $500 table.”
“Make me an offer.”
I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, “$300.” I didn’t think it was worth that much but I didn’t want to insult her too badly.
This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that she’d take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.
“Let me just give it back,” I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time I’d asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still I’d never been over.
I called up my beloved and said, “Hey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?”
They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.
But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, “Jill? You’re home early,” through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.
“I was just bringing Jill’s stuff back!” I chirped in alarm.
With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jill’s collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jill’s number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.
It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.
So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.
I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!
Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. “Nope,” she said, “but good luck.”
I’d rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and I’d firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.
For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone I’d dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.
Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.
It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, “And then this kiss showed up on my car.”
“Did you like it?”
“What? No! I’m pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?”
My mom started bellowing with laughter. “I did!” She wheezed.
Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though she’s never done anything like that previously.
“It scared the crap out of me!” I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. “I thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!”
“How could I have known you’d just broken up with three girls at once?” She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.
So that’s how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.
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outlaw!toji who initially kidnapped you for money, to rob you from your valuable belongings, eventually forms a strange attachment to you. he can’t help but feel a faint twinge of guilt for robbing a pretty and delicate little thing like you.
so, he decides to let you return to your beloved family in town. though he does not let you go completely.
every now and then when toji is passing by the town you reside in - avoiding sheriffs and other people whom could possibly recognise him from the wanted posters plastered on every wall - he looks for you.
of course, you freak out the first time he sneaked up on you. however slowly yet surely, you let your guard down. the outlaw didn’t harm you in any way after all.
“how ‘re ya doin’, princess?” toji would always greet you with that signature, cocky smirk of his, leaning against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chiseled chest or his hands on his worn gun belt.
sometimes you reply quickly, but on other occasions you indulge him and continue the conversation. it’s often at night that he visits you, so you have less of a chance to get caught together.
you don’t know when or how toji found out where your family’s house is. he simply started showing up at your balcony once in a while, just to catch up. after a couple times, you even let him in.
those nightly visits swiftly turned into something more intimate. it feels so wrong yet so right. a dangerous criminal who’s killed hundreds, who had even kidnapped you one day, being invited into your bed— how scandalous.
though you can’t help it. his callused yet warm hands that touch your skin, his burly body that presses you into the mattress just right, his slightly chapped lips that nip at your flesh and leave marks. . . you don’t regret a thing.
especially when you’re both catching your breath after an intense encounter. toji’s muscular body, filled with countless of scars, blankets yours easily. his arms cradle you to his bare chest afterwards and all you can do is relax against him.
“i think i really hit the jackpot with ya, aye? may not have robbed ya of yer stuff that day, but i got ma prize money one way or ‘nother,” the rugged outlaw grins as he lights up a cigar and holds it between his lips.
you can’t even tell him off for smoking in your room. toji’s fingers massage your scalp so good to the point you’re putty in his hands. the scent of tobacco is also comforting. it’s one you associate with him, because he always smells like it. it’s always a combination of tobacco, nature, horses and gunpowder.
toji knows that he has to leave before anyone comes checking in on you, but he can’t leave you when you look so adorable, clinging onto him like a lifeline.
every time he visits, it’s the same exciting story.
when toji is in a more sentimental mood, he takes you out on a ride. he settles you on the back of his horse, speeding off into the sunset, letting you enjoy the view outside of town.
the beautiful freedom that comes with the life of an outlaw. the freedom of seeing nature in all its glory. you get to experience it all.
at times, when you’re out and about, he takes his chance and teaches you how to handle a gun. toji knows you’ve been spoiled rotten by your parents growing up, so you probably haven’t touched a gun a day in your life. that’s where he comes in.
“oi, watch out. yer gonna blow my fuckin’ face off, girl,” toji grunts with a faint chuckle as he notices your clumsy hand gestures while holding his revolver. it’s endearing, truly. he doesn’t yet understand why it warms his heart to see you try and shoot at the targets he set up.
what the outlaw loves more than that, is when you’re both resting against a large oak tree, with his head on your lap. especially after he gets back from a long and successful heist in a far away town.
toji often lets his cowboy hat cover his face while he naps and uses your thighs as the perfect, plush pillow. the gentle breeze only adds to the perfect moment.
when you take his stetson and put it on your head instead in a innocent gesture, he lazily opens one eye and raises a brow in amusement.
“oh? that yer way of telling me y’ want a ride?” toji teases before pinching your cheek. he loves seeing that flustered expression on your face when you’re once again reminded of the cowboy hat rule he taught you the other day.
toji never misses the opportunity, however. he sits up and leans back against the tree trunk, patting his thick thighs which he spreads lightly.
“hop on f’ me then, pretty. show me how good of a cowgirl y’ are, yeah?”
well, briefly said, it’s never a dull moment with outlaw!toji.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#toji x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#toji x you#jjk x y/n#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk x female reader#jjk fanfic#toji smut#toji fanfic#jjk fic#toji x female reader#female reader
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i seen you did a request so i as wondering can i request something? 🥹
jk x reader where the reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend and she gets her lick back 💜 love your stories!
I'm sure I can do something quick 💜
Lick Back
Realizing that your boyfriend has become a completely different person & being malicious towards you could only mean that he’s being nice to someone else.
Word Count:4.298
Warning: dry humping, kissing, neck kissing/sucking, dirty talking, nipple pinching, praising, affair/cheating, oral sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, slight voyeurism, teasing/taunting, squirting,
Your mother always told you that if your dog started barking at you that it only meant that someone else was feeding it. A dog would never bite the hand that feeds them.
Your mother wasn’t talking about an actual dog.
However, you had a dog - in a way - and recently, it began doing just that. It became annoyed with you for every little thing you’ve done. It’s tone changed completely when speaking with you; always rushed and not attentive. It started to be mean for no reason, nearly foaming at the mouth when you questioned their sudden change of actions - or questioned it at all. It wanted to be outside longer than usually and would be upset when called back home.
The dog being your boyfriend of nearly 5 years. You noticed the shift a year ago, but you ignored your gut feeling of something being terribly wrong - but now, you are numb and though it hurts in a way, you are also relieved. The love that was one there in your relationship appeared to expire without you realizing it - or maybe you had not wished to accept it.
And yet, here you are in a home the both of you share. He is out, not bothering to tell you just where he’s at - and you don’t ask. You stopped asking a year ago when you grew accustomed to sleeping alone.
But even if the love for your dog is no longer there - and if it was, it was slowly drifting away - that didn’t mean the anger wasn’t. The fact that you allowed the dog to stay with you because you loved him, fed said dog his favorite meals and showered him with love and affections. They were supposed to be loyal - but atlas, someone else had gained its love while you were left in the dark.
But there was someone else who liked what the dog had, you noticed. Someone who appreciated the meals you cooked and ate them with ease, who would come when you called them. They were loyal - even more than your own dog - and it just happened to be the dogs friend.
Jeon Jungkook is an attractive man and he knew it. It showed in the way he struts, shoulders lax and head held high. He almost wore a smirk, but never a cocky one. Jeon Jungkook could be an asshole - a complete fuckboy. He could turn his nose at anyone because he had it like that - but he didn’t.
Jeon Jungkook was a kind individual. He was caring - especially to the ones he was close with. You recall many times when you’d had to call him because your boyfriend had gotten so drunk that you’d need a man's help - and Jungkook was always that man.
And even though Jungkook was a friend of your boyfriend, he was kind to you, as well. He changed your tires on numerous occasions, making sure to give you the speech that “You need to make sure you keep up with your car, Y/N.” or the “Your oil and tire lights are on, how do you even drive this still?” he had good intentions.
“This is so good!” Jungkook says, mouth full of the pork belly. He licks his lips to savor the flavor. Jungkook always wore a disgusted face when something was amazing in taste and even now, his eyebrows are knit together in confusion and he appears utterly disgusted - that was a good sign.
“I’m glad you enjoy it.” you smile at him, washing the dishes you’ve made when cooking.
“I told you I don’t mind washing the dishes, Y/N.” Jungkook says, glancing upwards at you. “It’s the least I can do since you cooked.”
You sigh, smile never ceasing. “It’s alright. You’re a guest after all.”
Your dog wasn’t home and you don’t know when he will be - nor did you truly care. His friend was nicer, more entertaining, as well. He ate your cooking as if it was fine dining, and appreciated it, too. He was kind and good at conversation - he was caring, far more than your dog.
“I enjoy cooking for you, Jungkook. You deserve it the most.” you turn off the water and begin to dry your hands. Your eyes meet his and for a moment, you’re pondering if he’s thinking about your words the way you intend him to.
“Thank you.” Jungkook grins, tiny dimples at the side of his cheek forming.
You lean against the island that he sits at, quiet and content that he’s eating the food you’ve made for him. It wouldn’t be the first time you cooked for Jungkook - you recall the first time without your dog being present was a year prior. You had cooked and waited for his return and was left with nothing. It was hours after when you heard him return - this time not alone or coherent. Jungkook had slung the man onto the couch annoyed with just how drunk he had become and when you emerged - in nothing but a nightgown - he had apologized profusely.
“I cooked.” you had sighed, disappointed but not the least bit surprised by the actions of your dog. “Do you want a plate?”
It has become a tradition now. You’d cook for Jungkook often and each time, he'd come and enjoy what you’ve made him - whatever you made him.
Jungkook was no fool, as well. He knows just how independent you’ve become, especially within the last year. He knows that you know that he knows of your boyfriend's loyalty - or lack of - but you never question him about it, even when he prepares himself to tell you the truth if you had.
Over time, Jungkook noticed that you don’t seem to care about your boyfriend's whereabouts - and around that time, he picks up on just how you begin to dress when around him. It was subtle at first, sure. You showed more skin - more legs with your shorts, more shoulders. He notes that the clothes you wore were tighter but relaxed seeing as you were in the comfort of your own home. You’d wear tanktops that showed your breast with shorts that made your thighs highly appealing for his eyes. Overtime, you ditched the bra and it became harder for him to not gawk at the way your breast looked in them.
Jungkook doesn’t want to assume anything - you were so far removed from your boyfriend that you didn’t care anymore. One drunken wine night when the man was away on a “business trip”, you had told Jungkook that you hadn’t had sex with him in close to a year now - his own drunken response was that if he was your boyfriend, he would fuck you any chance he’d get.
Jungkook isn’t sure if you remember that night and neither of you brought it up after.
“You seem tense.” Jungkook is behind you now - when he has gotten up from his seat, you are unaware, consumed by your own thoughts. “Is everything alright?”
You slowly nod your head, turning it slightly to get a glimpse of him.
Jungkook snorts. “Your shoulders are tense.” he says, gentle hands placing themselves on your shoulders. “Is everything alright with work? The car?”
“Yes, Jungkook. I’m fine.” you giggled. “You worry too much.”
Jungkook’s fingers begin to rub at your shoulders, applying pressure to them. You swallow, your hands gripping the edge of the sink.
“You should relax, Y/N. You’re always doing something and never truly giving yourself a break.”
Jungkook’s hand reaches your neck. They run up slowly, goosebumps left behind in its trail. Your eyes flutter close at how good it felt to be massaged.
“Does it feel good?”
There’s a drop in Jungkook’s voice - it’s deeper. He whispers it, as if only speaking directly to you, even if you and he are already alone in the home.
“Yes.” you murmur back, head falling back against his chest just as he reaches the front of your neck. A tattooed hand wraps around it, thumb caressing your skin in circular motions.
“I’m glad.” Jungkook is subtle when he presses himself against you - so gentle that you don’t notice it at first. You're completely against his body, in blissful relaxation. “You deserve to be taken care of, too.”
Even now, you dressed so comfortably - shorts stopping high above your thighs and a shirt that sculptures your breast so lovingly that he had a difficult time not watching the way they bounced as you walked around the kitchen preparing him the meal.
“I don’t really have anyone to do that.” you whisper back, a slight moan creeping past your parted lips.
“I can take care of you…unless you object.”
You nod your head and instantly, his free hand roams down to grip your clothed breast. He can feel just how hard your nipple was.
You hiss, back slightly arching.
Jungkook engulfs both breasts in the palm of his hands and begins to rub, your light moans enticing him to continue. He can feel your nipples harden in his grasp and he himself begins to hiss lowly to himself on how heavenly they felt in his hands.
There’s no doubt that the two of you wanted this for far too long by the way you completely allow him to touch you without any resistance. He presses himself against you needily, face in your neck as his hands continue to grip and pull at your breast.
“You smell nice.” Jungkook grumbles in your neck, nose inhaling your sweet scent; he’s sure he sounds like a creep, but he wasn’t going to hold himself back . Not now he’s certain you want him just as much as he does you. “I like this scent on you the most. This and the jasmine one.”
You swallow, heat rushing through your body at his words. Jungkook had memorized the perfume’s you’d wear due to the countless times he’d be around you. He recalls the time he even had to help his friend pick out a gift for you on an anniversary and how upset he had been when he chose the cheapest scent he could find - and one you’d never wear. Jungkook had swamped them out and chose the very scent you wore now and you’re none the wiser.
Your arms reach behind you to cup Jungkook’s head just as you feel his teeth sink into the nape of your neck. He’s being more rough; dominant. You don’t remember when the last time a man has touched you with such possessiveness - a sex-toy could only do so much.
“Such pretty skin,” Jungkook’s tongue pokes out of his mouth to lick onto your neck. “just want to mark it all up.”
“Then do it.” you respond. If you and him were going to do this, mind as well go all out. Your dog often comes home smelling like sickly sweet fruit perfume and cigarettes at times - you wanted Jungkook’s scent all over you.
Jungkook does, biting your skin harshly and then suckling on it until your neck is perfectly marked up. He’s then quick to turn you around to finally face him, the both of you now locking eyes.
“Are you upset?” Jungkook questions, eyes dark with lust but a bit concerned.
“With you?” you ask, raising a brow. “Never.”
“Not with me. In general.” Jungkook murmurs, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently traces your lips. “I’m sure you know…what he does.”
You nod your head, leaning into Jungkook’s touch.
“Don’t want you to regret or feel bad afterwards.”
“Are you?” you ponder aloud.
You were so far removed from your boyfriend that you could care less about what he thought. In your mind, he was nothing but a roommate now; the two of you not even sharing a bed.
Jungkook, however, was your boyfriend's friend and maybe he would feel remorseful.
“I told you that I’d never stop fucking you if given the chance.” Jungkook snorts, thumb tapping your lip.
“Then don’t stop.” you murmur, tongue poking out to wrap poke his tongue. “I haven’t been fucked good in so long.”
Jungkook hisses, his hand now gripping your cheek. He shakes his head. “He told me what you like.” he confesses, unsure if you were willing to go down that route with him.
“He was never really into anything.” you shrug your shoulders - this is why you ended up with a vibrator and a dildo; and you were currently looking into a vibrating dildo, how sad your life has become.
Jungkook is aware of his friend's lack of foreplay - he was only ever interested in his own pleasure. Jungkook, however, didn’t mind pleasuring you until you were begging him to stop - but maybe he was just a bad person to think about his friend's girlfriend riding his face until she came.
Then again, you were being cheated on by said friend so maybe this was just his karma; it wasn’t like you were a bad person and deserve such treatment.
“I want to eat you out.” Jungkook declares suddenly that it catches you off guard completely. “Why do you look scared?”
“Just shocked.” you say, body growing even hotter. “Wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
“‘I want you to ride my tongue until you’re squirting all over me’ is what I truly wanted to say.” Jungkook deadpans and blinks. “But I didn’t want to scare you away.”
You gulp, eyes widening and thighs clenching.
“And by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, it didn’t scare you.” Jungkook smirks and instantly, he presses his lips against you. It’s a deep kiss that catches you by surprise, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave more.
“I can kiss you, right?” Jungkook says against your lips - maybe he should’ve asked first. “I know kissing is more intimate-”
You shut him up by kissing him, arms wrapping around his neck to assure that he doesn’t get too far away from you.
Kissing Jungkook came naturally - as if the two of you had done it before. He pries your mouth open and allows his tongue to dance around yours, all the way he holds onto your hips.
“Bed,” you kiss his lips again. “room.”
Jungkook follows behind you, unable to keep his hands off of your body as you lead him to your bedroom. He doesn’t even bother to close the door before he’s already tugging at your clothes.
Your shirt is the first to go, breast pooling out that Jungkook cannot focus on anything else but them. He dives into them, your back hitting your mattress just as he begins to suckle on your left nipple, his thumb and index finger pinching the right.
The noises Jungkook made were just as filthy, wet sucking and groans echoing off of your walls. How long he had craved to see your bare breast - they were always teasing him when he was around. Bouncing whenever you move, nipples always erect for his view.
“So pretty.” Jungkook brings the right nipple into his mouth, showing the same amount of needy lust and love to it as the left. His hand squeezes your left breast in the palm of his hand, the pain shooting pleasure right to your core. “I can suck on them all night. I don’t know why he doesn’t.”
Now, Jungkook brings both nipples into his mouth, needily needing to taste you. He has a crazed look in his eyes that only causes you to squirm beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist to feel him.
“You can suck on them whenever you want.”
Jungkook grunts, teeth grazing against your nipples as they pop from his wet mouth. “Don’t tempt me, Y/N. You’ll never be able to get rid of me.”
You were positive you didn’t want Jungkook to leave.
“I want you naked right now. I wanna see just what that idiot has for me right now.”
There wasn’t much Jungkook had to do to get you naked - in seconds, he had helped you kick off your shorts along with your panties, needy pussy on display for him.
“Need you on my tongue now.” Jungkook hisses, flipping you and him so he is beneath you now. Your pussy is so close to his face that it causes you to yelp in slight humiliation.
“I-I wasn’t really prepared to do this, i-I-”
“Y/N,” Jungkook calls, tone dismissive. “I’m a man. Just fuck yourself against my tongue.”
So you do - and Jungkook’s hands only make you do more. His hands slap your thigh to kick up the pace, his eyes boring into your face as it contorts with pleasure. Your hips just as you grind against his tongue, hands gripping your breast.
Jungkook’s eyes never leave your face. He enjoys watching the stress leave your body as you pleasure yourself, it tells him that this is something you truly needed. His hands begin to rub along your hips, encouraging you to continue until they slide down to your ass. He cups them, his own head swaying side to side to further stimulate your needy clit.
“S-S-Shit!” your body leans back, hands planting against his thighs as he devours your cunt as if it was his last meal. “I-I’m gonna cum…you gotta move.”
That was the last thing Jungkook was going to do - not even as your hands try to pry him away from your pussy, he doesn’t. He continues to suckle onto your clit until you’re visibly shaking above him, but even then he was determined; fully committed to having you cum hard on his tongue.
Your legs begin to quiver and Jungkook soon was going to get what he was looking for - you cum. He licks the arousal up, slurping and suckling loudly as your moans mewl out of your mouth.
“I could eat you all day.” Jungkook speaks beneath you - and you knew he was serious.
You did the wrong thing by looking at him. His mouth and chin was fully coated in you and just the sight causes you to cum even harder - the hardest you have ever had in your life; right onto his tongue like he wanted.
You fall back against the bed with a tired sigh, breathing hitching.
Jeon Jungkook was a dangerous man. No wonder the universe gave you your dog - you couldn’t handle a real man such as Jungkook, surely.
“Can I fuck you?” Jungkook asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Unless you’re tired then-”
“I want you to cum in me.”
Jungkook coughs, his cock jumping in his pants. “I-I…really?”
“If you’re going to fuck me, you mind as well go all out.” you pant, widening your legs. “I don’t want you to hold back, either.”
You were going to be the death of him - but if this was what is going to kill him, then he’ll be content.
“Fuck.” Jungkook is in a hurry to remove his clothing, scattering it all around the room without a care. “Fuck you’re so perfect. I would treat you so well, Y/N. Fuck I hate him.”
Jungkook’s words causes you to giggle at the circumstances. He hated your boyfriend - his friend - for allowing you to fall into the arms of another man - him. It’s all comical, truly.
“I would fuck you all day if you’d let me. Come home every night and fill you with my cum. How are you not pregnant yet?”
Jungkook’s babbling to himself, even if you could hear it. It’s questions he has asked himself time and time again - wondering why his friend would rather sleep with other girls when he had someone like you at home. You cooked every day and assured the home stayed just right. He would have put a baby in you - and of course married you; but this wasn’t about him now, was it?
Jungkook positions himself at your center and swallows. You’re clenching, ready to be stuffed.
“I bet you’d like to put a baby in me.” you tease, hips slightly wiggling for him to enter you. “Why don’t you?”
Jungkook growls. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Y/N. You don’t know how many times I imagined you in my home.”
Maybe Jeon Jungkook was a bad friend for imagining said friend's girlfriend in his home cooking for him - or in his bed breeding her. BUT he had since stepped out on the relationship so karma would have to skip him, right? If anything, you being with him would be doing both of you a favor - you wouldn’t be cheated on and he would dote on you every chance he had.
Jungkook begins to enter you, shuddering at the tightness of your pussy. It engulfs him completely, as if shoving him in with whatever powers it held.
Shit.
Instantly, Jungkook begins to pound into you - you casted a spell, surely. Whatever you put in the food had caused him to be highly consumed by you entirely. Maybe a baby would be nice, right?
You weren’t expecting Jungkook to get right into it - neither were you against it. He holds your legs apart in a tight hold, cock pounding into you so heavenly that even you thought about giving the man what he has been imagining.
“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses when his eyes catch the white, creamy ring around his cock. “you haven’t been fucked good in so long. You’re milking my cock already.”
“Maybe if you weren’t such a pussy before you could’ve been fucking me.” you needed Jungkook to fuck you harder if possible. Making him mad and taunting him was an amazing way to start.
Jungkook’s eyes are furious, lust and anger swirling in them. “Maybe if you would’ve asked me to fuck you I would have.” he spits back, his thrust quickening. “You always looked so desperate, too.”
“I was.” your hand slap against his bare chest, but it doesn’t cause him to stop - no, if anything it makes him fuck into you even deeper at your retaliation. “You were desperate to fuck me, too.” you moaned when he hit that sweet spot that has never been touched before. “Like a little teenage boy.”
Neither of you notice the footsteps coming closer to the bedroom, far too entangled with one another's pleasure.
“I know when a bitch needs to be stuffed. Should’ve filled you with my cum years ago.” Jungkook flips you onto your stomach. He yanks your hair back so your back is perfectly arched - and then he takes you just as hard as before. “But tonight will be the night that I do what we both want, huh?”
“Fuck, you’re so deep.” your eyes snap shut, stomach forming knots. Your breast bounces in the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.
One hand in your hair while the other begins to play with your wet clit. Jungkook buries his head at the side of your neck, lips against your ear.
“You’re coming home with me tonight, Y/N. I’m going to breed you here, then you’re leaving with me.” It’s the sex and lust talking that's causing him to be so demanding and possessive, but you and him both go along with it. When the high was down, then maybe the two of you could talk with sense.
But as of right now - he was determined to put a baby in you without thinking of any consequences and stupidly, so were you.
“You’re gonna leave him right?” Jungkook asks, yanking your hair harder as his hips jut into you. “You’re gonna give me that baby you want me to put in you so bad and you’re gonna leave that sad excuse of a man.”
Your pussy clenches around him and your eyes manage to open. You’re shocked to see him at the door, eyes wide and watching his friend fuck you into oblivion all the while bad mouthing him.
“Y-Yes!” your juices leak down your thigh, overstimulated due to Jungkook’s fucking and aggressive rubbing along to your swollen clit. “Want your baby.”
You don’t break eye contact with the man - it’s evident that he’s shocked, but he cannot be angered. Not with you, at least, maybe with his friend.
“He could never fuck me like you. Never give me a baby.”
Now you were purposely taunting him, upset that this is when he decides to come home - but a bit glad that he gets to witness the end of an already crumbled relationship. You wonder how he feels witnessing his friend fuck you better than he ever could; with more passion.
You cum around Jungkook’s cock, juices leaking out of you and onto your bed and Jungkook isn’t far behind you. His thrust began to grow sloppy. He leans away from your neck, eyes glancing up at the figure watching them - the same figure of his former friend; one who had not spoken to him in months unbeknownst to you.
The friendship had ended months prior when Jungkook had suggested that he treat you better, in which he responded angrily that if he wanted you to be treated good so bad that he should have you, declaring that he would have nothing but his sloppy seconds. Never truly imagining that he would witness it happen before his eyes - he was just angry and drunk at the time when he spoke so harshly of you.
Jungkook cums inside of you, so deep and so much. His eyes never leave the shocked ones of his former friend at the door as the both of you allow the high to die down. “You’re coming home with me tonight.” he says, not asking but demanding.
You nod your head, eyes leaving that of your former boyfriend and they close as his (former) friend gently lays you down onto your bed.
#jungkook x reader#bts smut#btswritersclub#bangtanwritershq#bangtan smut#jungkook smut#bts cheating#explicit-tae#lick back#bangtanwriters net#btswritingcafe#btswriterscollective#jungkook imagine#bts affair au
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LOGAN HOWLETT - ANNUAL GALA
A/N: A new smutty one-shot. I tried. I don't think it's good. But let me know what you think.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Avenger female reader
Warning: smut
My stories are written for mature audiences - 18+!
Words: 4200+
Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)
FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST
LOGAN HOWLETT - ANNUAL GALA
Tony Stark had invited Charles Xavier and his X-men to an annual gala he held in New York. There were many reasons for that. The Avengers and X-men worked together during difficult missions and unexpected alien threats. Also, he wanted to prove to regular citizens and high-profile politicians that mutants were not the enemy. This was the perfect opportunity for both groups to strengthen their bonds and work relationships.
That’s how Logan had found himself, in a fancy all-black tux, standing at the bar with a drink in his hand. His glare could kill anyone who rubbed him the wrong way. He wasn’t fond of these gatherings, and yet here he was. His eyes were searching for any threat, ready to fight anyone who would seem too suspicious to him.
“You didn’t have to come here, you know,” Hank chuckled when he approached Logan at the bar. “Nobody forced you to come here.”
Logan rolled his eyes and sipped on his whisky. “I know how important these things are,” he growled. “Charles wanted me to be here, so I’m here.”
“Uh-huh,” Hank rolled his eyes. He ordered a drink. When the bartender had given him the drink with shaking hands, he had to chuckle. Some people were spooked by his blue fur and beasty look. “Isn’t it because you are waiting for a certain someone?”
Logan sighed, defeated. Hank knew damn well that his friend had built some connection with a certain female Avenger. There was no denying he was waiting for her. “You really wanna go there, furball?” He tried to avoid the question.
“Oh, come on, Logan. Everyone can see how you are smitten with that woman,” he chuckled. “It’s kinda nice.”
“I am not smitten,” he denied. Fuck, but even Charles constantly made comments and teased him about it. “By the way, shut your mouth, McCoy. I don’t want to hear shit from you. You’ve been eyeing that reporter from News 1.”
That made Hank roar with laughter. He sipped his drink and turned to the crowd, watching people mingle around, talk and drink. “I’m not denying that. She’s pretty, we like to talk about science. You, on the other hand, keep denying everything. But we are not blind.”
Logan wanted to throw the drink at Hank. He would, if they’d be back in the mansion. He opened his mouth to snap back at him. But the energy shifted to the grand stairs. Logan’s eyes travelled there, wanting to know what the fuss was about.
Yelena Belova and Y/N Y/L/N walked down the stairs with linked arms. Both looked beautiful in their evening gowns and perfect hair. Yelena had a green satin dress. Y/N chose a sparkling black dress that hugged her figure perfectly, with a slit on her left thigh.
Oh, if he could, Logan would drool like a dog. It was one thing when she wore that damn tight suit during missions, but this made him hard instantly. Fuck. Maybe this was the day he would have a heart attack. And she’d be the cause of it.
His blood started to boil when many men gave her attention. Once the women left the stairs, they were surrounded by testosterone. Yelena was a pretty lady, too. He had to admit that. Y/N was something different. She felt like a dream, a secret naughty fantasy that he wanted to come to life.
“Close your mouth or you’ll swallow a fly,” Hank said.
Logan drank the rest of the whisky in one go, eyes never leaving Y/N’s figure on the main floor. Hell, even her teammates danced around her. Where did this jealousy come from?
He thought about the day they met. It was an accidental mission, where the Avengers were also present. While Charles and Captain Amerika talked after the finished mission, Logan’s eyes were focused on the woman who caught his attention.
Their first interaction was amusing. Y/N tried to save his ass when a group of soldiers surrounded him. Logan was on the ground, guns pointed at every piece of his body when she came out of nowhere, shooting down the soldiers, snapping their necks with bare hands. Her kicks were strong, her punches were deadly.
Once the threat was eliminated, she turned and looked down at Logan. “Are you done napping?” she asked him with a grin.
He huffed. “I had it under control,” he huffed. He got up on his legs, the adamantium claws had already retracted back to his skin. Y/N watched it happen like a hawk but didn’t comment on it.
“Of course. You almost got killed by ten men. Yeah, you had it under control.”
“I can’t die, princess,” he squinted at her. “It wouldn’t be the first time a firing squad would try to kill me. In the end, it would always just tickle.”
Y/N tilted her head. A smile played on her lips. “Well, if you are done bragging, let’s move. There is still more to come and I would like to be in bed with a book in my hand by ten.”
That was just their first interaction. And with that, something bloomed between them. Friendship? Or was it something more? Every mission became exciting. He couldn’t keep the dumb smile on his face once he saw her in the field.
Logan ordered another whisky. A grin spread on his lips when he thought back to their first meeting. He learnt her name later. First, it was just her last name. Rogers barked orders when he said it. Her first name came at a different time when they all shared the same coms for better communication.
“She’s coming here,” Hank warned him, which brought Logan back to reality.
With every step, he could notice more details about her. The material of the dress, how deep her cleavage was, how her breasts popped out, the red lips, the earrings, the fact that she was like a fucking angel. All she needed was wings. And, she was coming to him alone. Fucking finally.
“Wolverine,” she purred his name. “I can’t believe you are here. Who put a gun to your head and forced you to attend this magical evening?” There was a teasing smile on her lips.
Don’t look at her tits, he thought. Don’t look at the tits that want to spill out of that dress. Fuck!
“I heard there was an open bar,” he said. “So I decided to come and drink Stark’s liquor.”
She licked her lips, suppressing her chuckle. “No other reason?” I raised a brow. “See your friends, swoon ladies or play pool with the boys?”
See me?
He kicked in the rest of the drink and put the glass on the bar. His eyes noticed the crowd gathering in the middle of the hall. A slow music started to play, inviting everyone to dance. Logan’s hand reached forward. It was now or never. “Or I came here to dance with ya, princess.”
One second and her hand slipped into his. “Oh, so you dance, you say? Lead the way.”
Logan proudly walked her into the crowd of dancing people. One hand rested on her lower back, other held her right hand. He knew what he was doing. After all, this was the first dance of his life. Y/N was impressed by that. They started to dance to the string music.
He sniffed her sweet perfume, the shampoo she used. That woman would be the death of him, Logan was sure of it. They kept dancing, not talking. His eyes were on her, locked in a gaze. He had been close to her before but not like this. She was like a magnet, pulling him closer to her. Her lips inviting, her touch soft.
The more he looked at her, the more he wanted to spill out what was going through his mind. “You look beautiful tonight,” he admitted. “Fuck, you look beautiful every time I see ya.”
She chuckled. “Even in my suit during a fight?” she raised a brow.
“Hell yes,” he nodded eagerly. “Princess, when you walk to the field in that suit, fighting fearlessly, I have trouble focusing. Once you did a trick with your thighs, choking an enemy with them, I almost lost it there.”
Y/N’s hand left his. She brushed it up his arm and rested it on his shoulder. “Oh, so that’s the effect I have on you, eh?” she teased the Canadian. “Care to say more?”
Logan’s hand joined the other on her lower back. He pressed her closer to his body. The height difference was evident between them. Even with her high heels, she was shorter than him. “Fishing for compliments?”
“From you? Yes,” she smiled.
He moved closer to her, leaning. In his mind, he was ready to press his lips against her. He needed to kiss her like he needed to breathe. This was his chance to taste her.
A third hand landed on Y/N’s shoulder. “Y/N, Logan,” they heard someone say their names. The moment was ruined. He wasn’t able to kiss her like he wanted. On the other hand, he wanted to slash anyone who interrupted them.
With a growl, he pushed away, eyes finding Captain Rogers, accompanied by Hank. “What?” he asked them grumpily. He didn’t care it was rude. They ruined something special.
“We need you in the conference room,” said Steve. “We have a situation.”
Y/N sighed, stepping away from Logan’s hold. “What’s going on?” she switched to a work mode. She gave Hank a polite smile to acknowledge his presence.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted us about Trash industries,” said Steve. “Come, we’ll show you.”
“Charles?” Logan’s eyes shifted to Hank.
“Already with Stark,” he said.
All four of them walked together from the grand hall. Yelena and Sam joined them on the stairs. The blonde woman was yapping about being taken away from a cute woman and a fine drink.
“I just fucking got here. Already some shit is happening,” she kept cursing under her nose.
Logan kept close to Y/N. He missed her body being so close to his. He hoped they'd be able to continue. The conversation was intriguing. He remained by her side while walking through the hallway and to the upper levels of the compound.
Her fingers brushed against his hand. It wasn’t an accident. No. Her fingers purposefully stroked the top of his hand. Instantly, his fingers moved. His pinkie hooked around hers for a second. It was a mutual sign.
The group entered the conference room, meeting the rest of the Avengers and Charles. One by one they took a seat except Logan. He stayed on his feet, a step away from Y/N’s seat. A hologram appeared in the middle of the table.
“We got a new location on Trask Industries, but this time, these fuckers had decided to work with some Hydra scums,” Tony started to talk, showing footage they managed to get from satellites. “Or so it appears. we are not quite sure.”
“The public wouldn’t like that,” Charles commented. “They try to present themselves as a serious robotic corporation. Why would they jeopardise their public status if they start working with a public enemy?”
“That is trying to hunt down mutants and annihilate them,” Y/N commented. “Don’t want to imagine what’s going on behind closed doors. It can’t be nice.”
“Is it really Hydra?” Natasha asked.
“It appears,” Steve chimed in. “Or something adjacent.”
“So what? We’re just gonna sit here and wait for more details?” Logan scoffed. “The longer we wait, the more work they get done. I say to strike and kill them all.”
Y/N licked her lower lip and grinned under her nose.
“We need a strategy, Logan,” said Charles.
“Not everyone can get sliced and heal with a snap of fingers,” Tony added sarcastically. “Chill, wolvie. Besides, we’ve sent Vision to have a look at the place. He’s a droid, a powerful one made out of vibranium.”
Y/N turned her head to Tony. “That doesn’t mean he’s indestructible in this world,” she frowned. “New weapons are being developed every day to destroy mutants, to stop the Avengers. I hope Wanda went with him. They are stronger together.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Of course, she’s with him. Do you think I’d be able to stop her? I’m not crazy.”
“Trask Industries are still working on the damn sentinel program,” Hank stepped into the conversation. “With Hydra’s help, who knows what they’ll be able to create together. The thought alone is scary.”
Tony ended the hologram. Steve took the word. “I know we are supposed to be here at the gala, but I suggest a good night's sleep and be ready. If you’d like, we have spare rooms in here for you. You can stay here for the night if we need to leave.”
When Steve said that, Y/N gently turned her head to the side, wondering what Logan would say to that.
“I’ll gladly accept the offer,” Hank smiled. “At least I’d get to talk to Bruce for a little while and have a look at his labs. I’ll also alert the others at school.”
“Howlett?” Tony raised a brow.
Logan’s eyes moved from Y/N’s exposed shoulders to Hank and then to Tony. “Sure, why not? At least I don’t have to drive from place to place.”
“I guess we are staying,” Charles smiled. “Thank you for your accommodation.”
The meeting ended. Natasha and Yelena went back to the gala. Y/N talked to Hank for a few more minutes while he was waiting for Bruce. Steve and Tony took Charles back to the grand hall. Logan waited outside the conference room. Because no one was present, he took a cigar out of his jacket and lit it up. Three puffs later Y/N stepped out of the conference room with Hank.
“Already smoking?” Hank sighed.
“So what? Got a problem with that, bub?”
“Always the charmer,” Hank shook his head. “Nice evening, Y/N. I’ll see you later,” he said once he saw Banner approaching the group.
The moment Logan and Y/N were alone, they faced one another. “Are you heading back to the gala?” Logan asked.
She hummed, thinking about it. “I’m not feeling like going back there. Honestly, those fancy parties are not my cup of tea. Wanna grab a drink in our lounge room? Stark has the fanciest shit there. You’re gonna love it.”
Logan smiled at her. “Lead the way, princess.”
. . .
The lights were dimmed in the lounge room. Logan was nursing an expensive drink Y/N poured him. He made faces, eyed the liquid, humming and nodding. “This is some good shit,” said after a while. “Wealthy people can afford stuff like this. Also, Charles prohibited any alcohol at school.”
Y/N chuckled, sitting in an armchair with her drink. “It makes sense. It’s a school. Of course, he doesn’t want any alcohol there. Does he let you smoke?”
He huffed. “That he ain’t gonna do shit about it. No matter how much he threatens to turn me into a six-year-old girl.”
“Aw, that’s adorable. I’d like to see that,” she put a wide smile on her face as she sipped her drink. “Maybe I’d brush your hair, put pink ribbons in it.”
Logan kicked the drink in and stood up from the couch. His eyes noticed a few photos around the place - from parties and group shots to professional photos of the team. They were like a family. What mostly caught his attention was Y/N. She was an Avenger, part of a superhero team. He huffed. Fuck, she was a damn Avenger.
“What?” she questioned. A second later, she was by his side, eyes on the same photo of the team. “That was after Ultron almost annihilated the whole world. We celebrated our survival. Stark puked into his helmet,” she laughed.
“Disgusting,” he frowned. “I must say, you look like one happy family,” he commented.
Y/N hummed. “Maybe,” she shrugged. “I love them all to death.”
“But?” he raised a brow.
She shrugged. “Will I sound ungrateful if I say I hate being in the spotlight?” she made a face. “I can’t do photoshoots, the damn galas and shit forever. I hate attention. I’d rather be like you.”
“Me?”
She nodded. “Teaching mutant kids, living life out of the spotlight. Even though it’s not easy, in my eyes, it’s simpler. Not have to deal with this shitshow.”
Logan’s fingers found her hair. He brushed them away from her face. His mouth opened, ready to say something - anything - but instead, he grabbed her by the neck, pulled her closer to his body and crashed his lips against her. It was like an invincible string, pulling them together. He couldn’t help it.
It wasn’t slow, gentle. Quite the opposite. Logan’s tongue explored her mouth, tasting every corner he could reach. It was hungry, possessive. One hand held her tightly around her waist while the other slipped from her neck, down her back until it reached her ass, taking as much of her cheek into his palm.
Both arms wrapped around his neck. A moan escaped her lips when the kisses moved to her jaw and down to her exposed neck.
“I need to have you,” Logan growled between the kisses. “Fuck, pretty baby.”
“My room,” she sighed. “We can’t give Stark or Rogers a heart attack if we do it here. Although, it would be funny.”
Logan pushed away, staring into her eyes. He went back for her lips, only to bite her lower lip, pulling at it. “Lead the way, princess,” he growled. “And hurry, or I will take you here, where anyone can see us.”
Y/N grabbed him by the hand, taking him away from the lounge room. Logan moved her to his side and kept a hand on her smaller back. He needed to feel her, to be sure she was real and not a damn dream.
It took them a good three minutes to get to her room on the upper levels. The moment she closed the door, her hands were on Logan’s jacket, taking it off, letting it fall on the floor. Both of them stepped on it, not caring. His lips smashed against hers, all tongue and teeth. Grunts and moans echoed around them as they moved closer to the bed.
“I wanna rip this dress off,” he said, hands grabbing both of her covered breasts into his palms, squeezing them.
Y/N undid his tie. “No,” she chuckled, unbuttoning his white shirt. “Too fucking expensive. Here,” her fingers quickly found the zipper on her left side. She pulled it down and the dress loosened. That was Logan’s sign to pull down on it.
“Fuck, princess,” his eyes rolled when she stood there in nothing but a black lacy thong. Her breasts were on full display, nipples stiff, just for his eyes. “Fucking perfect.”
Before he could latch onto her hardened nipples, she forced the white button-up down off his body, hand grabbing onto his muscles, fingers brushing over some of the hair on his chest. She stood on her tiptoes to find his lips in another hungry kiss.
His tongue dove into her mouth, caressing hers in the process. He felt her hands moving down to his belt, unfastening it. “Impatient?” his voice hoarse.
She pushed him onto her bed. He fell with a loud thud. The adamantium bones almost broke it in the process. “Shit, sorry,” she gasped, forgetting about his weight. But instantly, she climbed on top of him. Y/N pressed her breasts onto his chest as she needed to kiss him again and again.
Logan switched it up, rolling them so she was under his body. “Now, let me ravish you before I give you my cock,” he said, lips already trailing kissed down her chest, over her breasts. His mouth took a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, biting it. Her other nipple was teased by his thumb and index finger.
“Fuck, Logan,” she whimpered.
His mouth then travelled south. His tongue left a wet trail down her stomach to the hem of her thong. He kneeled on the edge of the bed, taking her leg up in the air, kissing it from the thigh up to her ankle. “I should leave these heels on, darlin’. So fucking sexy. Fuck, and I will.”
Y/N huffed. “Logan, please, I want your mouth on me.”
“Ah, already begging. I love it,” he grinned. He put her leg on his shoulder. His fingers brushed down down her leg to her clothed pussy. With two fingers he brushed her over her hidden folds and clit. She practically purred. “Pretty sound.”
“Come on, Logan, do something.” Y/N was becoming frustrated. He kept teasing her, rubbing circles over her clit. “Don’t be a fucking tease. Not now.”
A dark laughter escaped his throat. “Patience, darlin’.” He moved the thong to the side, exposing her pussy to the cold air. He saw her clench around nothing. “What a pretty pussy, princess. So wet and ready for me.” And he buried two fingers inside her heat.
Y/N moaned once his two thick fingers penetrated her. “Shit. Ah.”
He pulled them out and put them straight into his mouth, tasting her. “Delicious,” hummed. “I’m gonna feast on you. Not now. Now, I need to feel you around my cock, princess.”
Logan grabbed her thong and pulled it off her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes. He made sure to leave those heels on. “Fucking gorgeous.” He stood up to get rid of his pants.
The moment he unzipped them, she knew he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “Shit, Logan, commando?” she raised a brow. His length was already hard, ready for attention. The tip of his cock was angry red, already leaking precum.
She was ready to reach for him, take his cock into her mouth and guide it into her mouth. Logan was faster. He pushed her back on the bed, shaking his head. “No, no, darlin’. I’m gonna fuck you now. And next time, I will let you have a taste of me.”
“Next time?” she smiled.
Logan leaned closer, his head above hers. “You think this a one-time thing? Oh, pretty girl. No, no.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
“Good,” she gave him a bright smile.
He pumped his length a few times before he positioned his cock to her opening. Slowly, he pushed inside until her hungry pussy took him all in. He cursed, groaned when her walls clenched around him. Once he was buried to the hilt, Y/N sank her nails into his chest, leaving red trails down to his belly button. They immediately disappeared, healed.
“Feel so good, princess. So tight,” he moaned as he started to move. At first slow, enjoying every stroke, watching her face like a hawk. He loved how her eyes rolled, how she gasped for air with each thrust or how she squeezed her breasts. She was fucking perfect.
His thrusts fastened. He watched her breasts bounce as she kept fucking her. His grunts were louder, more vocal. Logan’s right hand found her neck. He wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing it. And that move made her clench hard around his cock. “Shit, Y/N,” he called her name. “Keep doing that and I will fucking cum inside you.”
Logan’s other hand sneaked between their bodies and found her clit. He started to rub it slowly, changing the movements.
“P-please,” she gasped. “I need to cum, Logan.”
He smiled. “Yeah, pretty girl? Gonna cum around my cock?”
Y/N nodded, moaning and shaking under him. “Please, please,” she begged.
“Come on, princess. Cum around my cock. Squeeze me with your sweet pussy,” he demanded. “Wanna feel you when you cum. Shit… Ah… Fuck…”
A few more flickers of his finger was what she needed to reach her peak. Her mouth formed a perfect O, her voice suddenly gone when the wave of pleasure hit her body like a train. Her back arched as he helped her through her orgasm.
“Fuck, baby, yes,” he grunted. “Milk me dry.”
A few more thrusts and he spilt inside her. His hot cum painted her walls. He growled like an animal, trying to prolong his climax with every movement. His body shook and then he stopped, panting.
His eyes found hers. There was a post-orgasmic haze in them. A smile played on her lips. She was perfect, beautiful. Logan quickly leaned down and stole a kiss from her.
“Damn, princess,” he chuckled. “Such a good girl.”
Those words made her clench around his length again. He grinned. “You like it when I call ya a good girl? Good to know.” Slowly, he pulled her semi-hard cock out of her and rolled next to her, catching his breath.
Y/N rolled to him, resting her leg over his body. Her fingers drew patterns on his chest, moving through the hair delicately. “This was fun,” she smiled. “It’s been a while since I had a good orgasm.”
He raised a brow. “Next time, I’ll make you cum on my fingers,” he grabbed her hand and pressed his lips on her fingers. “Then on my tongue and around my cock,” he hummed. “I will fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”
She grinned. “Is that a promise?”
“Fuck yeah, princess.”
#Logan Howlett x reader#Logan Howlett x female reader#Logan Howlett#Wolverine#Wolverine x reader#Wolverine x female reader#Logan Howlett smut#Logan Howlett x reader smut#Wolverine smut#Wolverine x reader smut#marvel fanfiction
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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?”
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HELP ME, MAN! : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU
you, their little girlfriend, scared the shit out of your boyfriends. they don't know why, how, them, the strongest jujutsu sorcerers in the modern world are scared of their girlfriend.
warning. established relationship! satosugu, fem! reader. anger issues mentioned, you scared the shit out of them. fluff.
wc. | ( 𝜗𝜚 ) masterlist
( 𝜗𝜚 ) art belongs to the artist.
being the strongest sorcerers in the modern world, gojo satoru and geto suguru didn’t know fear. they had faced countless curses, fought against the worst of the worst, and never once backed down. no matter how dangerous, no matter how terrifying the curse, they’d come out on top, especially when they worked together. their bond and strength were unmatched. they could take on anything the world threw at them without flinching.
but there was one thing that shook them to their core. something even worse than a thousand cursed spirits combined.
you.
their fiery, sarcastic little girlfriend, who had more rage bottled up in her than any curse they’d ever faced. when you were angry, it wasn’t just explosive—it was terrifying. your sharp tongue, your piercing glares, and the way you could tear them apart with a single, biting comment. they’d rather face off against the worst special-grade curse than deal with your wrath.
and right now, they were both standing in front of you, like guilty children caught red-handed. you were pacing back and forth, arms crossed, the air thick with tension. they could handle anything… anything but this.
“so,” you started, your voice cold and sarcastic, “which one of you wants to explain this mess?” your eyes flicked between them, daring one of them to speak up.
gojo, never one to shy away from a challenge, opened his mouth, though his usual cocky grin was nowhere to be seen. “babe, it wasn’t that bad, was it?” he tried to play it off, but even he knew he was walking on thin ice.
you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning to face him, your eyes narrowing dangerously. “wasn’t that bad? really, satoru? because to me, it looks like you completely ignored the one thing i asked for.”
geto stood to the side, looking like he was praying for some sort of divine intervention. he knew better than to jump in too soon, but he also knew you were right. they’d messed up. and badly.
“idiot, stop talking,” geto said quietly, placing a hand on his friend’s arm, though his own nerves were clearly showing. then, he turned to you, his tone soft and apologetic. “we’re sorry. we really didn’t mean to mess this up, it just—”
“oh, so you’re both sorry? well, that fixes everything,” you cut him off, your sarcasm biting. “i guess next time i’ll just expect the bare minimum from the two of you.”
gojo winced, trying to shrink into the background, and even geto, usually calm and composed, was struggling to keep his cool under your stare. the two of them could take on anything, but this? this was something entirely different.
you could feel their unease, but it didn’t soften your mood just yet. “i ask for one thing,” you continued, pacing again, “and what do you do? exactly the opposite.” your voice rose with each word, your frustration clear. gojo shot a glance at geto, mouthing, “what do we do?”
geto shrugged helplessly, though he knew there was only one way out of this—admitting they were wrong. completely and utterly wrong. “look, we really messed up, okay? we’ll make it right, i swear. just… don’t be mad at us, alright?” he sounded genuine, his usual stoic tone now laced with concern.
you stopped pacing, your arms still crossed, and looked at both of them. “you better. because if you think i’m mad now, wait until i’m really pissed.” they both nodded, practically in unison. they knew better than to push their luck. after all, you were the one thing that could truly strike fear into their hearts. curses? no problem. a pissed-off girlfriend with anger issues? that was another story entirely.
“we’ll fix it,” gojo promised, his voice a bit higher-pitched than usual, clearly trying to get back in your good graces. “yeah, we’ll do whatever it takes,” geto added, backing him up, eyes serious.
you watched them for a long moment, letting the tension hang in the air before sighing. “good. because the last thing i want is to be disappointed again.” they both exhaled in relief, knowing they were getting a second chance. you may have been their biggest weakness, but you were also their greatest strength—keeping them in check when nothing else could.
I DIDN'T SLAM THE DOOR, I SWEAR!
there was also a moment—just like any other day—when you and gojo found yourselves in a small argument. nothing major, just one of those little things that built up over time. this time, it was about him always leaving his clothes on the floor. no matter how many times you asked, it seemed like he just couldn’t get the hang of putting them in the hamper.
you stood in the bedroom, arms crossed, glaring at the pile of clothes that had been tossed haphazardly on the floor next to the bed. “again, satoru?” your voice was sharp, laced with frustration. “is it really that hard to put your clothes in the basket? it’s right there.”
gojo, sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed, looked up at you, his signature grin plastered on his face, but you could see the nervousness behind it. “come on, doll. it’s not that big of a deal, right? they’re just clothes.”
“just clothes? satoru, you’ve been leaving them everywhere—everywhere—for weeks. i’m not your maid!” you snapped, waving your hand toward the scattered mess. “you’re lucky i haven’t thrown them all out by now.”
gojo chuckled, clearly amused by your annoyance. “oh, come on, you wouldn’t throw them out. you love me too much for that.” he leaned back on the bed, the smirk growing wider. “besides, you could always pick them up yourself if it’s that important,“ he added, the taunt subtle but noticeable.
your eyes narrowed, the irritation bubbling up even more. he knew exactly what he was doing—pushing your buttons, trying to get a rise out of you. and it was working. you clenched your fists, taking a deep breath to keep from snapping right away, but the frustration was hard to contain.
“satoru,” you said, your voice dangerously calm as you looked at him. “i am not your maid. i’m not here to clean up after you like some kind of personal assistant.”
he opened his mouth, about to say something in response, but you cut him off, stepping closer, your temper flaring. “i already deal with enough without having to pick up your damn clothes every single day. you know i hate it when the house is messy, and you still leave your stuff everywhere. why? because you think i’ll just clean it up for you?”
his smirk wavered, just for a second, as he saw how serious you were. he might have been teasing, but he knew when you were on the verge of losing your patience. and right now? you were teetering on the edge.
gojo sat there, the smirk replaced by a hint of uneasiness. he hadn’t expected you to get this mad, but then again, he should have known. you weren’t one to back down easily, especially when it came to this issue.
he swallowed hard, trying to salvage the situation. “okay, okay, i get it. i know you’re not my maid. but come on, it’s just a few clothes. it really doesn’t take that much effort to pick them up, does it?”
you could feel your irritation spike even higher at his words, and your eyes narrowed. the way he was downplaying it, acting like it was no big deal, just pushed you closer to your breaking point. if it didn’t take much effort, then why couldn’t he do it?
“if it’s so easy, satoru,” you snapped, voice sharp with anger, “then why can’t you do it?”
without giving him a chance to respond, you bent down, grabbing one of the shirts from the pile of discarded clothes and hurled it at him. the fabric hit his chest, and he blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that reaction.
“you think it’s not a big deal, right? it’s just a few clothes, no effort at all,” you continued, grabbing another piece of clothing and throwing it at him. “then why do you keep leaving them everywhere? because i’ll pick them up for you? i told you, satoru, i’m not your maid.”
gojo sat there, eyes wide, the smirk completely eradicated as you hurled clothes at him. he flinched each time one hit him, and he didn’t say a word, recognizing he’d messed up.
when you grabbed another shirt, he finally spoke, his voice softer. “babe, wait—”
you didn’t stop, your eyes blazing, and he saw the real anger blazing in them. “you think it’s funny to disrespect me like this? to treat me like some kind of servant?”
gojo looked at you, his usual confident facade cracking under your intense glare. he knew he messed up, but he still tried to keep some of his usual attitude, though it faltered when he spoke. “it’s not that big of a deal, doll, come on. i’m just a bit messy, isn’t that part of the charm?”
he knew the moment those words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. your expression darkened even more, and another shirt hit him.
gojo’s confidence shattered the second the words left his mouth. he saw the way your expression darkened, eyes narrowing even further as the tension in the room spiked. before he could even backtrack, another shirt flew at him, hitting him square in the face. he froze for a second, blinking as the fabric slid off his head.
“wrong move, dickhead,” he thought, his heart speeding up just a bit as he noticed the way you were glaring at him, practically daring him to say something else.
without another word, gojo shot up from the bed, all traces of his usual cockiness gone. “okay, okay! i’ll clean it up!” he stammered, frantically bending down to gather the clothes you had thrown at him. he moved faster than he ever did in a fight, scrambling to pick up the scattered mess around the room.
you stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a piercing stare as he scurried around the floor, picking up every last piece of clothing with a nervous energy. the man who faced down curses without blinking an eye was now clearly scared of you.
gojo moved quickly, rushing to pick up all the clothes, his heart pounding the whole time. he had faced down some of the worst curses in the world, fought against overwhelming odds, but this? this was something else entirely.
he could feel your gaze on him, sharp and unwavering, and he knew better than to make any snide comments or try to joke his way out of this. he was in the doghouse, and he knew it. as he finally gathered the last of the clothes into a messy pile, he stood there, glancing up at you, his usual confident demeanor completely vanished before he quickly left the room.
gojo, in his frantic rush to escape the room, accidentally slammed the door behind him with more force than he intended. the loud bang echoed through the hallway, and he froze for a split second, his eyes wide with panic as the realization hit him. “shit.” without wasting another moment, he bolted down the hall, clutching his clothes like his life depended on it.
he raced into the living room, where geto was sitting on the couch, looking far too tense for someone who hadn’t been directly involved. geto had heard everything. every word of the argument had reached him, and he hadn’t dared to intervene—not with you in that mood. he knew better. much better.
when gojo came running in, face pale and eyes wide, geto’s first instinct was to flinch, his muscles tensing even more. gojo practically threw himself at geto, clinging to him like a lifeline, the pile of clothes still in his arms. “suguru, help me! she’s gonna kill me, man. i didn’t mean to slam the door, i swear!”
geto, whose nerves were already frayed from listening to the argument, quickly pushed gojo away, eyes wide with alarm. “fuck off, satoru!” he hissed, scrambling to put some distance between them. “don’t want to be anywhere near you when she starts yelling again. i don’t need to get dragged into this.”
gojo blinked at him, clearly desperate for any sort of support. “but—but you’re supposed to have my back!”
“not when it comes to her,” geto shot back, keeping his voice low in case you were nearby. “do you know how terrifying she is when she’s pissed? no way, man. you’re on your own for this one.“
gojo groaned, his shoulders sagging as he slumped onto the couch beside geto, still clutching the clothes. “come on, suguru. you can’t just leave me to deal with this by myself. we’re in this together, remember?“
before geto could even muster a response, both of them froze at the sound of your heavy footsteps approaching from the hallway. it was slow but deliberate, each step echoing louder than the last. gojo’s eyes widened in panic, and he shot a terrified glance at geto, who was looking equally tense. neither of them dared to move, as if staying perfectly still might make them invisible.
“satoru,” geto whispered, voice barely audible as his eyes darted toward the doorway, “you better hide or something, man. i don’t want to be involved when she gets here.”
“go where?!” gojo hissed back, frantically looking around the living room for some sort of escape route. but there was nowhere to go, no time to run. he was trapped. the footsteps grew louder, and gojo’s heart pounded in his chest. “oh no, oh no, she’s coming…” he muttered under his breath, gripping his clothes tighter.
“this is your fault,” geto whispered harshly, scooting a few inches away from gojo. “you’re the one who pissed her off.“
“satoru…!” your voice called from down the hallway, sharp and unamused. both men stiffened at the sound, knowing that whatever came next wasn’t going to be good. gojo’s face drained of color as he leaned closer to geto, whispering desperately, “don’t leave me, man! i’ll do anything—just don’t let her kill me!”
geto looked at him, weighing his options, but before he could say anything, there you stood, arms crossed, your glare fixed on gojo like a laser. your presence alone filled the room with an intense pressure that made even the strongest sorcerers feel small. “satoru,” you said, your voice dangerously calm, “did you just slammed the door?”
gojo was frozen, his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. he looked back and forth between you and geto, the panic clear on his face. “uh, i...i didn’t mean to,” he squeaked, the clothes clutched tightly in his hands.
geto, watching the scene, leaned back into the couch, trying to make himself as small as possible, avoiding eye contact with you. he knew better than to draw your attention.
you didn’t say anything at first, just raised an eyebrow, and the silence was enough to make both gojo and geto sweat. finally, you spoke again, your voice laced with irritation. “do you want to try that again?”
gojo immediately shook his head, eyes wide with fear. “n-no! absolutely not, babe!” he blurted out, his voice shaky. “i swear, i wouldn’t do that again! it was totally an accident! i didn’t mean to slam the door, i promise!”
he stood there, practically trembling under your glare, clutching his clothes like they were his shield. “i’ll be so careful next time—no more slamming doors. i’ll tiptoe if i have to!” he added, his words tumbling out in a rush as he desperately tried to fix the situation.
geto, who was watching from the couch, subtly leaned back, clearly relieved that gojo was taking the brunt of your anger and praying he wouldn’t get dragged into it.
gojo looked at you with pleading eyes, hoping his quick apology would be enough to cool your anger. “i’ll be good, i swear,” he added, his voice softening, hoping to appeal to your softer side. but your expression remained firm, leaving him to sweat just a little longer, wondering if he'd escaped this round of your wrath—or if he was still in trouble. you slowly nod before walking away back to your shared bedroom without taking your eyes off of him.
gojo let out a shaky breath as you walked away, the silence in the room almost deafening. he stood there, frozen in place, clutching his clothes tightly and wondering if he was really off the hook or if you were just planning something even worse.
geto, who had been watching the scene unfold, let out a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing his tense muscles. “jesus, man,” he whispered, turning to look at gojo. “i don’t know how you do it. i’d be shitting my pants right now if i was in your shoes.”
WHITE TURN PINK
you stormed into the living room, laundry basket in hand, grumbling under your breath. your favorite white button-up shirt was now an embarrassing shade of pale pink, along with almost all the white clothes from the load. it didn’t take long to piece together what happened: one of them had carelessly thrown pink clothes in with the whites.
as you stood in front of gojo and geto, blocking their view of the video game they were so engrossed in, they immediately began to protest. “hey, we were—” gojo started, but the moment they looked up and saw the expression on your face, their words died in their throats.
your eyes were narrowed, and your lips pressed into a thin line. you were pissed, and they could feel the tension hanging in the air like a storm cloud.
“who’s turn was it to do the laundry?” you asked, your voice low but laced with enough irritation to make them both sit up a little straighter. without missing a beat, gojo’s hand shot up, pointing directly at geto. “it was him!” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.
geto’s eyes widened, his head snapping toward gojo in disbelief. “seriously?” he mouthed, glaring at him for the betrayal. but when he turned back to face you, his defiance melted away, replaced with sheer panic as he saw you holding up the now pink shirt.
geto could feel shivers running down his spine, his heart racing at the sight of your anger and the tainted shirt clutched in your hands. he wanted to protest, to deny the accusation that gojo had so shamelessly thrown at him, but one glance at your face told him it was pointless.
he swallowed hard, glancing at gojo who had the gall to give him a shrug and a smirk, as if it wasn’t his fault this had happened. but geto didn’t have time to deal with that right now. right now, he had to survive this. “care to explain this?” you asked, holding up the evidence.
geto could feel the color draining from his face, his mind racing as he desperately tried to come up with a convincing excuse. he shot a glare at gojo, silently vowing to get him back for this later, but right now, he had to handle the wrath of you.
“i...uh...” he stuttered, his voice shaky as he struggled to find the right words.
but before he could say anything more, gojo piped up beside him, clearly enjoying his friend’s predicament. “come on, tell her,"” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
gojo’s smirk didn’t last long. the second you shifted your glare toward him, your eyes narrowing dangerously, his confidence evaporated. you didn’t have to say a word—the intensity of your stare was enough to make him freeze in place. his lips clamped shut, and he quickly raised his hands in surrender, silently mouthing a “sorry” as he shrank back into the couch.
the teasing look was gone in an instant, replaced with one of sheer regret. gojo knew better than to push you any further when you were this angry. his eyes darted between you and geto, desperately hoping the attention would stay on his best friend and not shift back to him.
the atmosphere in the room was heavy, the tension palpable as both gojo and geto sat there, silent and clearly nervous about your next move.
gojo avoided your gaze, opting to find the most interesting spot on the floor to focus on, all his earlier cockiness gone. he couldn’t believe he’d so effortlessly thrown geto under the bus, and now they were both neck-deep in your wrath. geto, on the other hand, still looked like a deer in headlights, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a satisfactory explanation for the pink shirt.
your gaze slowly shifted back to geto, who visibly tensed under the weight of your stare. you crossed your arms, eyes still sharp as you raised an eyebrow. “well?” you prompted, your voice low but demanding. “explain.”
geto’s heart thudded in his chest, his tongue feeling heavy and clumsy as he tried to form words under your intense scrutiny. he swallowed hard, his mind scrambling to come up with any sort of explanation that might appease you.
“i...i...” he started, his voice cracking slightly. “i just...i didn’t...uh...”
he trailed off, his eyes darting to where gojo sat, silently mouthing, “help me, man!” but gojo only shrugged, unwilling to come to his aid and risk drawing your anger back towards himself.
geto’s throat went dry. his usual calm and collected demeanor was nowhere to be found as he fumbled for words. he could feel the color draining from his face, his mind scrambling for any excuse that wouldn’t make things worse. but there was no escaping this one.
“i—uh…” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “i didn’t realize the pink clothes were mixed in with the whites. it was an honest mistake, i swear.” he glanced over at gojo for a split second, hoping for some kind of lifeline, but gojo was firmly staring at the floor, wisely avoiding your gaze after nearly getting himself in deeper trouble.
“i didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” geto continued, his voice softening as he gave you a tentative, apologetic look. “i’ll… i’ll fix it. i promise.” you didn’t say anything at first, just continued to glare at him, making him squirm under the silence. geto knew he had messed up, and the longer you stared at him, the more he regretted it.
the silence was deafening, and geto fidgeted nervously, the weight of your glare like a vise around his throat. gojo watched from the corner of his eye, still trying to act casual even as the tension in the room grew.
geto swallowed hard, his mind racing for anything that might soften your anger. “listen, i know i messed up,” he began, his voice dropping to a quiet, contrite tone. “but i swear, i’d never do it on purpose. it was an error, a genuine mistake. it won't happen again.”
“damn right it won’t,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “because you two are redoing the laundry now.” gojo, still sitting stiffly beside geto, looked like he wanted to say something smart but quickly thought better of it. geto, on the other hand, sighed in defeat, clearly knowing there was no getting out of this.
gojo and geto exchanged a glance, both knowing that they had no choice but to follow your command. gojo let out a weary sigh, already dreading the chore ahead, while geto simply nodded in submission.
“yes, ma’am,” geto murmured, rising from the couch. gojo followed suit, reluctantly getting to his feet as well. the two men both looked like puppies that had just been chastised as they trailed after you as you led the way to the laundry room.
with matching groans of reluctance, the two strongest sorcerers in the world—men who had faced countless curses without fear—got up from the couch, heads hanging low, and shuffled toward the laundry room like a pair of scolded children.
as they passed, you shook your head, muttering under your breath, “honestly, how hard is it to separate the colors?” geto shot gojo a sideways glance. “this is your fault,” he hissed, still holding a grudge from being thrown under the bus. gojo shrugged, looking unapologetic. “hey, better you than me, man.”
“you owe me,” geto muttered darkly, glaring at him as they got to work on fixing their laundry disaster, while you stood in the doorway with your arms crossed, making sure they did it right this time.
they both muttered and grumbled under their breath as they sorted through the laundry, each taking their turn to throw in a sarcastic comment.
“you know, for being the strongest, we sure do spend a lot of time sorting socks,” geto grumbled, holding up a black one that had somehow gotten mixed in with the white.
gojo rolled his eyes, grabbing the sock from his friend and dropping it into the correct pile. “well, if you had been more careful—”
“oh shut up, satoru.”
you leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as you watched gojo and geto sort through the laundry, their faces set in identical frowns. they muttered to each other under their breath, casting glances in your direction every now and then, clearly miffed about being forced into this chore.
as the two men carefully separated the clothes, making sure to keep the colors apart this time, you couldn’t help but smirk. the sight of them working diligently, like a pair of scolded children, was a sight to see. you can hear them blaming each other. “stop fighting,” you tell them.
they both stop their bickering and look up at you. gojo starts to open his mouth, but you shoot him a warning glare, and he quickly closes it. “we’re not fighting,” geto mutters, continuing to sort through the laundry, careful to avoid any more pink shirts.
gojo rolls his eyes, mumbling something under his breath, but you catch it anyway. “what was that?” you ask sharply, pinning him with a look.
gojo swallows hard, realizing he’s been caught. “nothing,” he mutters sheepishly.
WE HAVE TO STAND FOR OURSELVES
in the kitchen, geto and gojo stood side by side, leaning against the counter, their expressions tense but trying to appear more confident than they actually were. they glanced nervously toward the hallway, making sure you weren’t nearby as they quietly discussed their situation.
“we’re the strongest sorcerers in the world,” gojo muttered, half-convincing himself as much as he was trying to convince geto. “we shouldn’t be scared of her. she’s… she’s just one girl. smaller than us. it’s ridiculous.”
geto nodded, though there was a hint of hesitation in his agreement. “right. we face curses and danger all the time. we can’t let her… you know, terrorize us in our own house. we’re the men in the relationship.”
they had a point. they had faced deadly curses and powerful sorcerers without flinching. but here they were, nervously tip-toeing around their girlfriend like frightened schoolboys.
“absolutely,” gojo continued, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “we can’t let her intimidate us. we’re stronger than her. we’re the strongest.” geto nodded again, though he seemed a bit less sure this time. “we need to show her that we won’t be pushed around... right?”
they both tried to sound resolute, but there was a visible nervousness in their body language—shoulders tense, eyes darting toward the door every few seconds, like they were expecting you to burst in at any moment.
“yeah,” gojo added, his voice lowering as if he didn’t even believe what he was saying. “we can’t let her push us around. i mean, come on. we’re gojo satoru and geto suguru. we shouldn’t be scared of her. right?”
but even as the words left his mouth, the doubt was clear. geto let out a small sigh, nodding but with much less confidence than before. “yeah, totally. we shouldn’t be scared… at all.”
there was a brief pause as both of them exchanged uneasy glances, neither wanting to admit just how much they were actually afraid of upsetting you. their bravado was shaky at best.
the silence stretched on. clearly, both men were starting to panic. they were not used to feeling weak, and to have you—someone they cared about and respected—wielding so much power over them was uncomfortable to say the least.
“so we...we should confront her, right? show her we're not afraid?” gojo asked, more for reassurance than anything else. geto nodded half-heartedly, his own confidence flagging as the thought of facing you head-on filled him with unease.
just as their uncertainty reached its peak, the echo of your footsteps rang through the hallway. they both went still, their eyes wide as they heard you approaching and turned to look at each other in panic. the color drained from their faces, and all the bravado they had been trying to muster moments ago completely evaporated.
you appeared in the hallway, looking nothing like the terrifying figure they had been hyping themselves up to face. instead, you were dressed in your cozy cat printed pajamas, your hair slightly messy, and you looked more like someone ready for a peaceful evening than the source of their terror. you seemed so casual and calm, it was almost comical.
but despite how cute and harmless you looked, the effect on the two strongest sorcerers was instant. when you reached them and stood in front of them, a casual look on your face as you were about to ask what they were up to, they immediately went into panic mode. without a second thought, both men dropped to their knees, their faces showing sheer dread.
“it was all suguru’s idea!” gojo blurted out immediately, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation, his eyes wide with fear. he didn’t even give geto a chance to protest before continuing. “he said we should stand up to you, that we’re the strongest sorcerers and shouldn’t be scared. i—I told him it was a bad idea!“
geto glared at gojo, but he was too terrified to defend himself properly. “i—what?! you were the one who said we shouldn’t let her push us around!” he stammered, trying to shift the blame back.
you looked at them, clearly confused by their sudden and dramatic display of fear. your eyebrows knitted together as you took in the sight of gojo and geto kneeling in front of you, their faces pale and their eyes wide with distress. it was such a stark contrast to the usual confident and unflappable demeanor they showed in almost every other situation.
“what is going on with you two?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. “why are you both on the floor?” you glanced between them, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene before you. the sight of them so unnerved and trying to pass the blame off on each other was bewildering. your calm demeanor and casual attire made the whole situation seem even more surreal.
they both looked up at you, their faces a mixture of fear and shame. gojo opened his mouth to speak, but geto cut him off immediately, wanting to defend himself.
“please, we're sorry,” geto blurted out, his voice quavering slightly. “we were just... uh...”
gojo chimed in, his voice still panicked. “we were just... messing around. yeah, messing around. just having a bit of fun.” they look at you, silently begging for forgiveness and trying hard to hide their previous arrogance.
you looked at them, your expression turning from confusion to genuine puzzlement as you tried to make sense of their frantic apologies and conflicting explanations. “messing around? having fun?” you repeated, clearly unsure of what they were talking about.
“what are you guys even saying?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. you took a step closer, still trying to understand what could have prompted such an over-the-top reaction. “seriously baby, what’s going on? did i miss something?” your hands softly find their cheek, gently rubbing your thumbs across their skin.
the feeling of your hands on their cheeks was both soothing and embarrassing. they leaned into your touch, their bodies still tense with anxiety.
“we... we were just...” gojo began, his voice cracking slightly. geto cut him off again, clearly not wanting his friend to say anything else that could dig them deeper into trouble.
“it's nothing, really,” he mutters, looking up at you with a mix of guilt and shame. “just a silly argument. we're sorry if we worried you.” their panicked expressions soften slightly as they look up at you, still on their knees. they look so pathetic, and so uncharacteristically vulnerable, that it's almost endearing.
you looked down at them, your expression softening as you saw their vulnerable and somewhat endearing state. a small, amused smile played at the corners of your lips as you reached out to gently stroke their cheeks.
“you two weren't in bed,” you said, your tone light and soothing, “i was looking for you two. i just wanted to see if my boyfriends wanted to cuddle or hang out. i didn’t realize you were having such a… dramatic moment.”
the tension in their bodies seemed to ease at your words and soft touch. they both looked up at you, their eyes full of guilt and embarrassment.
“we, uh...” gojo started, but geto cut him off again.
“we're sorry we didn't notice you looking for us,” he muttered, his voice still laced with shame. “we were just having a... disagreement, and we didn't want to bother you.” they both looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, their faces full of remorse.
seeing the guilt and embarrassment in their eyes, you softened, feeling a wave of affection for them despite their earlier antics. you reached out and gently helped them to their feet, your touch reassuring and comforting.
“come on, baby,” you said, your voice warm as you guided them towards the bedroom.
you could tell they were feeling remorseful, and despite your confusion over their odd behavior, you chose not to press the issue. instead, you opted to show them a different kind of comfort. “let’s just go to bed and cuddle,” you continued, smiling at them, “it’ll be okay.“
as you led them toward the bedroom, gojo’s initial nervousness began to melt away in the warmth of your gentle presence. noticing your obliviousness to the full extent of their earlier antics, he seized the opportunity to return to his usual self, his playful side resurfacing.
“you know,” gojo began, sliding closer to you with a wide, affectionate grin, “i’ve really missed you today.” he snuggled up to you, his usual playful demeanor coming back full force. “it’s like, you’re the best part of my day, and i’ve been counting the minutes until we could be like this again.”
geto, feeling the shift in gojo’s mood, couldn’t help but smirk slightly at the change. he followed suit, wrapping an arm around you as you all made your way to the bedroom. “yeah, what toru said,” he added with a softer smile “we definitely missed you.“
behind the closed door, the three of you entered the bedroom, where the soft, dim lighting created a cozy and comforting atmosphere. as you led them both toward the bed, gojo began to shed his shirt, the fabric slipping off his toned body with an air of nonchalance.
“you know,” he stated casually, “i think a cuddle session is exactly what we need right now.” he tossed his shirt aside, not even bothering to see where it landed as he flopped down onto the bed.
geto followed suit, tossing his shirt and pants aside as well before joining gojo on the bed. “definitely,” he agreed, resting his head on the pillow. “i could use a good cuddle right now. it’s been a long day, after all.”
both men looked up at you expectantly, their eyes full of a mix of affection and mischief. they patted the space between them, silently inviting you to join the snuggle puddle.
“come here,” gojo said, his voice low and warm.
as you complied with their silent invitation, snuggling in between them, gojo wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer against his bare chest. geto did the same, snuggling up against your back and molding his body to yours. his hand lightly caressed your arm, the touch tender and intimate.
“this is nice,” gojo murmured, burying his face into your hair. “i love having you here like this.”
the warmth of their bodies against yours was like a small, comfortable sanctuary. gojo’s arms were wrapped securely around you, his bare chest pressed against your back. geto was curled up behind you, his body molding to yours like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together.
“it’s perfect,” geto agreed, his voice soft and muffled as he nuzzled into your hair. “having you here with us like this just makes everything feel right in the world.” gojo hummed in agreement, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your skin. “absolutely,” he said, his eyes closing in contentment.
for a few moments, none of you spoke, the only sound was the soft rustle of sheets and the steady beat of everyone's hearts. then, gojo spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “can i tell you something, baby?”
you hum softly, still buried your face on his chest.
gojo's fingers continued to caress your skin as he gathered his thoughts. he was quiet for a few moments before he finally spoke, his voice soft and serious.
“you know we care about you more than anything, right?” he asked, his hand moving to gently tilt your chin up so that you were looking at him. “more than anything in the entire world.” geto, sensing the sincerity in gojo’s words, moved in close on your other side, his arm wrapping tighter around you. “he’s right,” he muttered. “you mean the world to us.”
you felt a swell of warmth at their heartfelt words. you looked up at gojo, his gaze soft and sincere, and then turned to meet geto’s equally genuine eyes. your heart ached with affection for them both.
“i know,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. the emotions were almost overwhelming. you tightened your grip around gojo’s waist, pulling him closer, and then reached out to draw geto nearer to you as well.
gojo and geto both responded instantly to your wordless gesture, their bodies drawing closer as if magnetized to yours. gojo pulled you impossibly close to him, his arms embracing you like a vice, while geto pressed himself against your back, completing the cozy little sandwich.
gojo pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds before he spoke again, his voice still soft but with a hint of a smirk. “we just... we want to make sure you feel loved and safe, always.”
geto’s chin rested on your shoulder, and he added his own gentle kisses to your neck and face. his hands stroked your arms soothingly, his touch tender and affectionate.
“always,” he echoed gojo’s sentiment, his voice low and earnest, “you matter so much to us, baby.” gojo’s chest vibrated slightly as he hummed, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.
“we’d do anything for you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
you let out a contented sigh, feeling the weight of their embrace and the tenderness of gojo’s kiss on your forehead. the warmth of their bodies pressed against you was incredibly comforting, and you closed your eyes for a moment to fully appreciate the feeling.
“i feel safe,” you murmured, your voice soft and sincere, “i always feel safe with you two, more than with anyone else. each time you cuddle me, it’s like my brain just turns off. i get so comfortable that i could fall asleep in seconds.”
you nestled even closer into their arms, savoring the sense of security and peace they provided. their combined presence was like a soothing balm, washing away any lingering worries or stress. in their embrace, you felt completely at ease, and the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle comfort of their love.
gojo and geto both tightened their hold on you even more as you spoke, their bodies pressing against yours like an impenetrable wall of warmth and affection. the knowledge that you felt safe and secure with them, that their presence could turn off your worries and calm your mind, filled their chests with a deep sense of contentment.
“good,” geto murmured against your neck. “that's exactly how it should be.”
gojo nuzzled against your hair, his arms wrapping impossibly tighter around you. “you should always feel like this,” he said, “like nothing in the world can touch you.”
as the three of you continued to snuggle, geto’s hand began tracing gentle patterns up and down your arm, his touch soothing and rhythmic.
“we would do anything to make sure you feel this way,” he said softly. “you deserve nothing less than happiness and comfort.” gojo leaned down slightly to press another gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a few moments before he spoke again.
“always, baby... always.”
you intertwine your free hand with geto’s, feeling his fingers gently intertwine with yours. with your other hand, you caressed gojo’s bare waist, enjoying the warmth and closeness of him.
as you felt their soothing touches and heard their comforting words, you closed your eyes, already starting to drift off. “i’m so grateful for you both,” you murmured softly, your voice barely audible. “thank you for being in my life.”
gojo and geto both held you tighter as you intertwined your fingers with geto’s and rested your palm on gojo’s waist. the simple touch was like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place, completing the circle of love and affection that surrounded you.
their hearts swelled with emotion at your words, and they both responded in unison, their voices low and soothing. “we’re the grateful ones, sweetheart,” gojo spoke up. “we should be thanking you for bringing us into your life,” geto continued, his voice warm and gentle.
you felt their embrace tighten around you, the simple touches of intertwined fingers and a warm palm on gojo’s waist completing the circle of love and affection. their words filled the space around you, wrapping you in a cocoon of emotional warmth.
as their voices melded into a soothing, harmonious backdrop, you drifted further into the comfort they provided. the gentle rise and fall of their breaths and the steady rhythm of their heartbeats guided you toward sleep.
you didn't have the chance to respond, as the comfort of their presence and their heartfelt words lulled you into a deep, peaceful slumber.
gojo and geto each felt a sense of deep contentment wash over them as they heard your breaths become slower and more even, signaling your descent into sleep. they held you close, their embraces protective and affectionate.
they watched over you as you slept, their gazes full of admiration and love. they continued to whisper soft, soothing words and gentle touches, ensuring you slept undisturbed and surrounded by their love.
“sweet dreams, baby,” gojo said quietly, his lips brushing your forehead. geto echoed his sentiment, his hand gently running through your hair. “we love you so much.”
the room was filled with a peaceful, quiet atmosphere, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of sheets and the soft rhythm of their breaths. gojo and geto were completely engrossed in their silent vigil, their senses fully attuned to you and your every movement.
slowly, the dawn began to break, casting a soft, morning glow into the room. it caught the edges of gojo’s silver hair and geto’s dark locks, creating a soft, halo-like effect around their heads.
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TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE
ROUND 1
Lee Know x reader. (s)
Related chapters: Round 2.
Synopsis: Let's play two truths and a lie, and here goes the first thing about you: You want to fuck your roommate's boyfriend, Minho. (9k words)
Author's note: It's a quick one-shot I made like a year ago but pls enjoy it nonetheless 😊
Content warning: Infidelity.
This is how you play two truths and a lie. You share three statements about you, two being true and one false, and people must determine which is which.
-
So here goes the first statement: You want to fuck your roommate's boyfriend.
A few months ago, you came to the city for your new job and were placed in a housing with a group of unbearable people. Since you've just started working, you tried looking at another option to get a temporary place to stay until you're financially stable enough to rent an apartment.
Long story short, a friend of a friend introduced you to Kim who happened to have an extra room you can rent. She owns the apartment and does not necessarily need the money, she offered her room for the sole reason which is to help you. You're aware that you don't meet this kind of that is to help you. You're aware that you don't meet this kind of person every day and for that, you're grateful for her.
After a week of living as roommates, you learn that Kim is just as graceful as her occupation, a ballet dancer. She's beautiful, kind-hearted, amicable, and ultimately, a very attentive roommate.
The room you're staying in was supposedly her private dance studio but she uses the living room to practice now and you have to adjust yourself to the huge mirror covering one side of the wall in your room.
Not long after that, Minho comes into the picture. A sharp nose, sharp jaws, and feline eyes, a beautiful face that only reminds you that the world is unfair to some people, including you.
"This is Minho," Kim introduces him with a smile
The second your eyes lock in a gaze with him, you feel an instant attraction and it intensifies as he stares back into your eyes.
"My boyfriend," Kim adds a little too late.
It's funny that the word boyfriend doesn't stop you from being attracted to him, if anything, you want him more than before.
Kim and Minho have been together for two years now and they met at the dance academy which explains a lot of things, including Minho's lean and toned body.
How do you know? Because sometimes he stays over and on more than one occasion, you found him walking out of the bathroom with nothing but a white towel hanging lowly around his waist.
That's also when you learn that this attraction is strictly physical, your uterus is acting up when you see him, and lewd thoughts rush through your head. It's all biological. There's no way you want to pursue him romantically, you couldn't even think of a person more deserving to be with him than Kim. They're both beautiful and talented dancers, oftentimes, you get so envious because they have such a lovely relationship.
Like tonight, you hear their laughter the second you step into the apartment, finding Kim and Minho in the kitchen just casually talking to each other while sharing a bowl of fruits. You love how simple yet endearing their interaction is.
"Hey, you're home!" Kim says with a sweet, welcoming smile.
You wave your hand at her and briefly at Minho, "Hi, everyone!" You awkwardly say, feeling like you're interrupting them.
"Have you had dinner?" Kim asks, attentive as always.
"Yeah, I grabbed dinner after work," you lie, but you can always creep your way to the fridge late at night for dinner.
"There's a pie in the fridge. Help yourself to some dessert," she sweetly offers then shoves a piece of blueberry into her mouth.
Without having to look, you can see how Minho looks at you, he has this deep, intense gaze that makes you the slightest bit intimidated.
"I will, thanks," you hurriedly respond, wanting the interaction to end as soon as possible, "I'll just... get into my room."
"Yeah, you should rest," Kim softly mutters.
You hoist your bag higher on your shoulder and head to your room, before you get in, you mutter to them, "Night, guys."
"Night," Kim cheerily says.
You hurriedly get in and catch a glimpse of Minho with his intense stare a second before the door completely closes and clicks in place.
The trick to surviving the night is to wait until they get into the bedroom and put headphones on as you come out of yours, not only to avoid hearing unwanted noises, but you reckon it's only right to take the extra measure to respect their privacy.
As you're listening and catching glimpses of the movie playing on your phone, you walk around the kitchen to prepare your simple, unhealthy dinner: a cup of noodles and a can of soda.
You're quietly eating your dinner by the kitchen counter with the headphones still on and once you finished, you treat yourself to a slice of pie, then put the rest of the pie back into the fridge.
It gets messy as you're munching on the pie while watching the movie on your phone. The cherry filling gets all over your fingers and you hurriedly lick it off before it gets—
"Oh, my God!" You shriek in surprise, seeing someone standing by the fridge. Once you realize it's Minho, you break into laughter.
"I'm just getting a bottle of water," he says, his face illuminated by the glow of the fridge lights.
"I'm sorry," you say while clutching your chest, and a second later, regret for saying it when he should be the one apologizing.
There's something different in the way Minho looks at you, he has one corner of his mouth raised higher than the other, giving you the impression that he's thinking of filthy things when he looks at you like that. He's giving you that look now and it does certain things to you.
He then stops leaning against the fridge, taking the bottle of water as he walks back to the bedroom, leaving his signature faint smirk on the back of your head.
The signals are there, they're subtle yet constantly pinging, asking you to respond. For now, you're going to ignore it like you always do and continue existing like you're not sharing the same space with him.
-
Statement number two: You believe Minho wants to fuck you too.
At first, you thought you imagined it, you want to fuck him so you started being delusional and thinking that he wants to fuck you too. Once you started paying attention though, you realized that what he's been doing to you meant something or some sort of message he tried to deliver.
The first occurrence that came to your realization is when the two of you were in the kitchen, you were enjoying your yoghurt and he suddenly came behind you to get something from the drawer that happened to be blocked by your body. Instead of telling you to step aside, he made you stand there as his hand curved around your waist to get something out of a drawer.
From there, you noticed a lot of things he did, the way he briefly rested his hand on the small of your back as he walked past behind you, his hand that would often brush a part of your body when the two of you are next to each other or the way he would speak close to your ear as if he's seeking to be close to you. Simply put, he always tries to make physical contact with you.
The scariest part of it is not the possibility that the two of you will eventually get caught, but how unfazed he is even when his girlfriend is there. Like that night where the three of you shared the sofa and somehow, his hand found your shoulder and instead of retreating, he continued to caress the nape of your neck with his knuckle.
However, what happens tonight is what makes you believe that he wants the same thing.
After making sure that you're the only one still awake in the vicinity, you make your way to the bathroom to take a nice, hot shower to help you relax and sleep faster. You skip on using the hairdryer since it'll make too much noise and tiptoe your way back to your bedroom.
In the middle of putting on your clothes, you realize that you left the door ajar and you notice Minho is watching through the reflection in the mirror.
Instead of stopping or rushing to close the door, you pretend to not see him there and continue, turning your body to the side, showcasing every curve of your body through the reflection in the mirror.
You arch your back as you put on the night dress over your head and slowly slip yourself in it, shimmying your body as you pull the dress down with your hands. Then you look at him through the reflection in the mirror and make it known that you're aware of his presence.
From the crooked grin on his face, you can tell that Minho is pleased to be caught watching you and you received his signal loud and clear: He wants to fuck you too.
But sadly, tonight's show is over so you walk to the door and close it.
-
Friday afternoon, Kim barges into your room and she rarely comes into your room without knocking on your door. Seeing that she's carrying a dress in her hand, you guess she needs your opinions on her clothing choices.
You sit on the bed and take your headphones off, "What's up, Kim?"
She stands at the end of the bed and lifts the dress with both hands, "What do you think?" She asks.
It's a mini dress with spaghetti straps in a deep purple color and it's a nice dress, you're just not sure if it fits Kim's style that well, she usually opts for dresses with flaring hem and floral prints.
"It's nice, Kim," you say but skip on giving her the detailed explanation.
She puts the dress close to her body and hugs it, "Do you like it?"
"Yeah," you shortly reply, even though it doesn't fit her style well, it certainly will look good on her.
"Good!" She shortly says, handing the dress to you, "Cause you'll be wearing it.
Somehow, you reach for it and awkwardly hold it in front of you, "W-why? Why me?"
Kim goes to your vanity table and flips open your jewelry box, she holds your earrings one by one to find ones that would match the dress.
"You're coming with me to this party," she says, leaving a lot of details in her answer.
"What party?"
"Party at my friend's," she simply answers, deciding on the gold small hoop earrings.
But that's against your plan, you want to steer clear of Minho and party at Kim's friend means that he'd likely be there too.
"Kim, I don't think that's a good idea," you tell her.
She then leans against the desk in your room and crosses her arm together in front of her, "These past few days you refused to hang out with me so you have to hang out with me tonight."
So Kim knows that you've been purposely avoiding her but you need to explain that it's not because of her, "But that's not—"
"Nuh-uh!" She quickly cuts you off again, "Tonight you're going to the party with me," she decides on her own, not accepting any more excuses from you.
"Is it okay though? I mean... it's your friend's party. I don't want to intrude," you meekly say while playing with the strap of the dress.
"Why would it not be okay?" She says, coming to sit on the edge of the bed, "Besides I want to introduce you to Gaspard."
Maybe you owe this one to Kim and hearing a guy's name piques your interest, "And who is Gaspard?"
"A cute guy," she shortly answers with a sly grin on her heart-shaped face, "And you'll like him."
It's not like Minho's presence would bother you that much and Kim needs you, she wants you there, therefore, as a good roommate, you should be there.
"Yeah, okay, I'm in the mood to meet a cute guy tonight," you tell her, not forgetting to show enthusiasm as well.
"That's the spirit!" Kim says with a wide grin dancing on her face.
Well, since you'll be there and possibly meet Minho, Gaspard better be a cute distraction for real.
-
The taxi pulls up in front of a house and you reckon it's where the party at from how many cars are parked outside and the faint thumping of the music playing inside.
The fact that you get here by taxi only means that there's no Minho so you can relax, for now.
Kim excitedly links her arm with you as you both walk into the house and you expect a party with laid-back music and endless glasses of wine but the second you step inside, upbeat music is blasting from around the house and everyone is having beers from red plastic cups.
The party is not what you imagined it would be, but it's what you need.
Kim cranes her neck to find her friends and once she finds them, she raises her hand to signal her arrival to them.
"Come on! Let's meet my friends!" She says.
Please, God, let him be a cute distraction! You repeatedly mutter in your heart as she drags you with her to meet her friends who are gathered in what you guess is a rec room in the house.
When Kim's friends finally come to sight, you put on a smile as you quietly guess which one of them is Gaspard. Kim goes to hug them one by one before introducing you to them.
"This is Ellie, Jena, Paul..." she introduces her friends back to you one by as the mentioned person warmly greets you.
"And Minho," someone adds from behind you.
You immediately look over your shoulder to see Minho standing there, Kim gently slaps his shoulder in response and laughs.
"This is not a roll call, honey," Kim says with a smile and then leans in to give Minho a quick peck on the lips.
Minho is already here and there's no Gaspard yet. No Gaspard means there'll be no distraction. You keep your smile on even though you're slowly descending into distress.
"There he is!" Kim exclaims, pointing at something behind you.
You reflexively turn on your heels and see a tall man with brown hair, striking green eyes, and a scintillating smile. This man will make the perfect distraction.
Please let this man be Gaspard, you deeply wish inside your heart.
Kim comes to your side and puts her arm around you, "This is the man I told you about," she says.
"I hope you only told her nice things about me," Gaspard says with a sly grin that makes his whole face light up.
The universe heard your plea and decided to make it true for you, this is Gaspard, the perfect distraction you want and need.
"Holyfuck..." you lowly mutter in disbelief.
"What's that?" Kim asks, hearing you saying something but doesn't quite catch it.
You've already forgotten where you are and what you're doing. And Minho? Who is Minho? You let out a chuckle and shake these silly thoughts away.
"So this is Gaspard, huh?" You say in all confidence.
"That is me," he answers, returning the confidence with a wide smile, "I'm better than you expected, I guess?"
Gaspard is confident and then gets shy in the next minute which you find charming, you smile at him and say, "I need more time to decide on that."
"That's fair," Gaspard says, offering his hand at you.
You think he's just going to shake your hand but he takes you into the crowd gathered in the middle of the room, dancing.
"A fair warning, I'm a bad dancer," you warn him as he takes your hands in his and makes you stand facing him.
"We still have time to decide on that," he pokes fun at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you close to his front.
Kim is right, Gaspard is cute and you like him already. He has just the right amount of facial hair and it grazes your cheek whenever he leans in to whisper into your ear, giving you a tingling feeling inside and outside.
After a few moments though, you find yourself panting from dancing with him. You should've known this would happen when you're dancing with a real dancer.
Since Gaspard is way taller than you, you have to put your arm around his shoulder and stand on your tiptoe to whisper to his ear, "Hey, how about we get drinks?"
"Drinks?" He asks you in confirmation since the mix of loud music and chatter is filling the room.
"Yeah," you answer while repeatedly nodding your head.
He doesn't say anything but takes your hand and leads the way through the crowd to the kitchen where bottles of liquor are strewn around on the kitchen island.
You intently watch as Gaspard is excitingly making you his special concoction. He finishes it off with a spritz of lemon before handing it to you.
"Thank you," you mutter in gratitude.
"Come on. Taste it!" He encourages you, curious of what you think of his drink-mixing skill.
Well, you've been staring at it long enough to give him the impression that you hesitate to drink it. You hurriedly take a small sip and you don't even have to lie, it's good.
"Wow!" You gasp, impressed with the drink he made.
"I know," he confidently says with a smirk and drinks his drink.
It's so refreshing and sweet like it has no alcohol at all, you hurriedly take another sip.
"It's really good," you tell him.
"Thank you," he says with a grin.
He then offers his hand at you, "Let's find somewhere to talk?"
You take his hand without question, letting him take you wherever he wants because it seems like he knows where he's going. He leads you to the backyard where everyone is hanging out by the pool.
"Hey, you!"
Recognizing the voice, your head snaps toward the source, and see Kim waving her hand at you from the long sofa that curved around a fancy fireplace.
You stop walking on your track and end up leading Gaspard there. You unconsciously let out a sigh of relief after seeing that there's no Minho there.
"Oh, hey," you greet back.
Kim scoots to the side to make space for you on the sofa, "Where have you guys been?"
"Oh, we were just dancing and he made me a drink," you honestly answer, not forgetting to show her the drink in your hand.
"And where were you going to take her, Gaspard?" Kim asks with eyes squinted at him.
"Anywhere but here," he jokingly answers.
"Well, since you guys just got here, it's your turn to play!" Someone says, you can't remember what her name is but she's one of the friends Kim introduced earlier.
"Turn to play? What?" You ask in confusion.
"Two truths and a lie," someone says.
You feel bad for not being able to remember their names, Gaspard's influence is that powerful on you.
"You know how to play, right?" Kim asks.
It's not about whether you know how to play or not, it's just so unexpected that these talented, gorgeous dancers like to play this kind of game at parties.
"Yes, I do," you answer.
Kim turns on the sofa to face you and looks at you in anticipation, "Okay then. Shoot!"
"Right now?"
"Yes," Kim shortly answers with a chuckle.
You admire their eagerness whether for the game or to know something about you, you rake your brain to think of three things about you and one of them should be a lie that would likely fool them good.
"Okay first is uhm... I'm allergic to cats," you share.
There's no response from them but you can see how they're looking at you and probably every detailed facial expression you make that will give away hints about whether you're lying or not.
"Second thing is my mom has a twin," you confidently share with a faint smile.
"Ah," Kim lowly gasps and you guess because you've shared this information with her before.
"Last thing is..." you look around as you think of the last thing to share with them.
You eventually turn to the side and see Gaspard smiling at you, "I think Gaspard is cute," you share the third thing about you.
"That's the one! That's the lie!" Someone excitedly guesses, and you suddenly remember his name as Paul.
You laugh because Gaspard looks so offended by his friend, "No, it's not a lie," you quickly defend him.
Gaspard shoots him a glare and triumphantly laughs, "Just drink, man!"
Paul drinks his beer in defeat.
"I must say the second one is the lie," the girl says again, still can't remember her name though.
"No. Her mom has a fraternal twin," Kim says, learning that information from you on the first day you moved into her apartment.
"Drink up, Jena!" Kim tells her that she guessed wrong and not wasting time but drinks her beer as a punishment.
"Oh, so you're not allergic to cats?" Gaspard asks.
"No, I'm not. I like cats," you answer.
He then sighs in relief, "That's great because I have a cat."
"Oh, wow?!" You utter in disbelief.
Other than being a great distraction, you share a lot in common with Gaspard and that says something.
"I also have cats," someone adds, joining in on the circle.
You can tell by the voice that it's the man you've been trying to avoid seeing tonight. You remain calm and have a sip of your drink.
"Yes, Minho, we all know you're a cat daddy," Jena says, finally knowing her name from Kim.
Kim groans and tosses a cushion at Jena, "Don't say that!"
Minho takes a gulp of Kim's drink and sits with his back reclined and his legs spread open, even his sitting position oozing with confidence and you eat that shit up.
You feel like slapping your face at that thought and have another sip to swallow that thought down.
"Is it my turn to play?" Minho asks around.
Jena shrugs since no one is taking the turn to play, "Yeah, sure, go ahead."
Minho softly scratches his chin before speaking, "I want to kiss someone tonight."
He starts easy but from the faint smirk on his face, you can tell he's brewing something in his mind.
"That someone is not my girlfriend," he calmly says.
Welp, there you go! Minho acts like he didn't just drop a shocking statement while his girlfriend is sitting prettily next to him.
You glance at Kim and she looks calm, but you can see that her jaws are slightly clenched. She's not happy so Minho should stop it.
But instead of calming his girlfriend, Minho looks at you and continues to share the third statement, "The person I want to kiss is one of you."
Your heart skips a beat because he keeps looking right at you and making it obvious for everyone to see who it is. All of a sudden, you feel the urge to exit this scene but walking out only makes it even more obvious.
Minho is sick of doing this to you and Kim, it's like he doesn't even care what it can do to either you or Kim.
"Oh, Minho, that's..." Paul hisses, not able to finish his sentence.
"Why, Paul?" Minho daringly asks him.
"Nothing," Paul says while scratching his head.
Minho leans forward and says, "It's you, Paul. It's you who I want to kiss."
Paul's tense face melts in a second and everyone bursts out laughing, "Fuck you, man!"
"It's you. I want to kiss you," Minho taunts him more, throwing himself at him and jokingly tries to kiss him.
Paul keeps pushing him away, sloshing his drink as he tries to dodge Minho's kiss while everyone else is laughing at them.
Even though it turns out to be a joke, you feel sick in the stomach and feel the need to get out of here.
"I need to go to the restroom," you mutter, getting up from the sofa.
Gaspard puts down his drink, "I can show you—"
"It's okay. I can go by myself," you tell him off, you regret being so crass but you're sure he'll understand.
"Okay," he says, sitting back down on the sofa.
While clutching the hem of your dress, you head back inside the house and find the bathroom to only queue to get inside, you decide to try on the second floor. You can easily find the bathroom as it's wedged between two bedrooms.
It's a party, you're sure the host would be okay with you using their bathroom, you don't even need to pee or something, you just need a space to vent.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you keep muttering to the reflection in the mirror.
When you touch your neck, you can feel a sheen of sweat there so you run your hands under the cold water and tap it to your neck.
This is the first time you realize what it'll do to you when it comes to following your desire. You'll ruin not only their relationship but also your friendship with Kim and she's been nothing but good to you.
"Fuck!" You mutter once again as you splash cold water on your face like it would help to put some sense into you.
Coming here was a bad idea!
But you're already here so you only need to stick to your plan, staying away from Minho and sticking with Gaspard. You allow yourself to spend a few more minutes just to compose yourself before coming out of the bathroom.
As you're about to climb down the stairs, the plan comes to a failure.
You see Minho is coming up the stairs and he seems to be looking for you as well from the way he stops once he finds you.
Instead of avoiding him as you planned, you feel the need to confront him about what happened a while ago. You grab the front of his shirt and take him into one of the bedrooms. The first one is locked so you try the other one and it's empty.
Once both of you are inside, you slam the door shut and push him against it.
"What the hell are you doing?" You aggressively ask, pushing his chest until his back hits the door.
"What? What am I doing?" He plays innocent but that smirk knows it all.
You slap his chest with both of your hands now but all you can feel is how firm his pecs are.
"You just don't care, do you?"
He puts his hands on each side of your waist and draws you closer, not hesitating to plant his mouth on your jaw.
"Minho!" You whine, ending up getting trapped in his hold with his arms wrapped tightly around you.
He glides his lips up and presses a kiss there on the skin under your ear, sending a tingling down your spine as his warm breath brushes your skin.
You helplessly dodge away from his lips yet somehow, he manages to capture your lips in a kiss and oh, you hate it so much! You hate how you like the way he kisses you, so passionately and hungrily, he makes it known that he wants it so much.
Okay, maybe the kiss is a slip-up and you hurriedly pull yourself out of it. You push him and pull away from the kiss.
"You know we can't do this," you mutter but you're looking at his lips, tempted to kiss him again.
He ignores your words and kisses you again, and you fall into it again. You try harder this time and break the kiss.
"Minho!" You whine, looking away to not let the temptation win again.
Using it as an opportunity, Minho plants his mouth on your ear and nibbles on it, peeling a layer off of your sanity which brings you to slip down the slope again.
Your lips are colliding again, harder and deeper, causing even more damage than the previous one as his hands go all over you and pull the straps of your dress down your shoulders.
The two logics in your head are clashing against each other, the one wants to satisfy this desire and the other wants to get out of this situation altogether. If you follow the former then at least, your curiosity will be fulfilled and if you follow the latter, then you get to keep the peace.
As you are caught in that inner battle, you blank out and stiffen against him.
"We have to stop," you mutter to him.
But is that what you want? To stop when you already have your toes dipped in the water?
Minho also takes a moment to assess the situation, he looks at you with his lips red and wet, "it has to stop," he says in agreement.
You take a step back and feel the sudden detachment as he lets go of you and you can't believe that he agrees right away that this is the better decision. You can't help but think that he doesn't want you enough.
He stays standing there, leaning against the door and looking at you with his eyes dark and wide with lust.
"So what do we do now?"
That's such a wrong thing to ask you because what you want to do now is be selfish for the night, for one fucking night, and if you're going to do it, you may as well go all in, right?
Take the chance or pass? Right or wrong? Continue or stop? Now or never?
"Fuck!" you heavily sigh and take down the straps of your dress, sending your breasts spilling out of the front.
"Suck my tits," you order.
It takes Minho a moment to process it and when he finally catches on that you've made up your mind, he goes for it. He comes at you full speed, hands off the brake and head first.
His mouth lathers at your breasts before sucking at them like you asked, taking them in turns, and leaving them wet with his saliva.
"Nibble on my nipples," you command.
You look down to watch him obeying you, using his tongue to nibble on your blossoming buds and alternating it with his teeth next.
"Oh, fuck," you breathlessly mutter as he sucks hard on your nipple.
While his mouth is busy latching on your breasts, his hands are snaking to the back and kneading at your asscheeks, caressing them with his fingers, and teasing your underwear.
This feels so wrong yet so good, you have your inner battle still but your logic is being defeated by your body's needs. You pull him by the shoulder and make him kiss you again so you'll stop thinking.
The rattles on the door startle you both and Minho immediately pushes the door with his back, then holds the knob to not let anyone in. Whoever tries to get it seems to figure out that the room is occupied.
"Sorry," someone says from behind the door.
Minho immediately locks the door while you take a step back from him, he gives you that look again, the kind of look that sees right through you and knows that you feel conflicted inside.
"Kim is my good friend," you tell him, feeling a pang of sadness in your chest that it aches.
He comes at you again and kisses you in which you're returning with the same eagerness. He seems to know that it's the only way to make you stop talking and thinking altogether. He pulls you closer than before his hands snaking to your rear, cupping the ample flesh in his hand.
"This is terrible," you mutter as you break the kiss so you can take your underwear off.
"This is terrible..." you mutter again, pulling him close by the waistband of his jeans and proceeding to unzip his fly open, "Betraying her like this."
It's like your body has a mind of its own, it's doing the opposite of what you're saying.
You impatiently take his semi-hard out of its confine and stroke it in your hand, "terrible," you emphasize the word and nail it deep into your head.
Minho doesn't say anything but follows what your body wants, he kisses you again, sloppily with his hands mindlessly roaming around your body.
"Touch me there," you whisper into him.
Without looking, his hand knows where to go. It goes to where you want him to be, going to the front to that wetness between your legs.
"Put your fingers in."
Minho runs his fingers down your slit repeatedly before inserting his finger into you. One digit is enough to make you moan in pleasure as he pumps it in and out of you.
"Add one more."
He draws his finger out and brings his index and middle fingers, shoving them into your mouth to wet them with your saliva. He brings them back to your entrance and slowly pushes them inside.
"Fuck, oh..." you moan, burying your head in his neck.
Two fingers are going in and out of you and you're already losing it. You start to think of what his cock would be like inside you as it feels hot and hard in your hand, pulsating with so much desire.
His lips nestle in your neck, kissing and lightly sucking on the skin as your body clings to him for support.
"Curl them— Oh!"
Minho knows what to do, he curls his fingers and carefully finds that spot that makes you whine and moan at the same time, and the lewd noise echoes in the dimly lit room.
You look over your shoulder to locate the bed and start steering his body there, walking backward without having to take hands off of each other.
He slowly pulls out and breaks the kiss only to pull your dress up, making the dress hunched around your waist. You plop down onto the bed and get on, you take a moment to continue undoing his jeans and pull it down enough to let his erection free.
Without thinking, you put his cock into your mouth, take him as much as you can and compensate for the rest you can't take with your hand. You lick and suck, alternating those two as you enjoy every inch of his delicious length with your mouth.
Minho tangles his hand in your hair and gently tugs at it, "I feel so guilty," he says.
Oh, so he's not that selfish after all but the thought of him thinking of his girlfriend with his cock deep in your mouth doesn't make you jealous at all, it makes you feel more aroused than before.
"Oh, so guilty," he says between his hoarse, low moans as he stares back into your eyes.
You slowly pull away and replace your mouth with your hand, restlessly pumping his swollen cock.
"You should be," you tell him, sticking your tongue out of your mouth and swirling it around the pink tip of his cock.
All of a sudden, he grabs your hand and takes it away from his length, he then takes your other hand to pin it against the bed. He hovers above you as he kisses you again, his tongue prying open your mouth to taste more of you.
You can feel him rubbing his length between your folds and you spread your legs open so he can do it more, making you drenched than you already are.
It's obvious to you now that you want him, you want him so bad and what you want is only inches away from you, and you can feel how much he wants you.
"Put it in," you breathlessly say against his lips.
Minho wastes no time to position himself between your legs. He then holds his cock, lubricating it with your essence and giving it a few pumps to finally aims it toward your entrance.
The more time he takes to be inside you, the more impatient you get.
"Put it deep inside me," you demand, opening your legs wider for him.
Yet Minho keeps teasing your entrance, heightening your anticipation and the tension in the room, making you arching your back at him.
When he finally pushes in, he only inserts the tip. It's just the tip but Gosh! It feels good already when he starts thrusting at a slow, steady pace.
"That's it," you say, keeping your waist afloat to take more of him, "all the way in."
Minho is just as impatient. He takes your wish as his command and pushes the rest of his length into you, hitting you deep inside that you blank out and you can't hear your own scream of pleasure.
It only registered to you now that it's all real once you take a look at how his cock is fully buried deep inside you and there's nothing like the feeling of finally having your desire fulfilled. Minho feels so good inside you, every inch of his length fills you perfectly like he was made just for you.
"Oh..." you loudly moan as he starts moving.
You're in and out of you at how hard he's thrusting into you that it reverberates throughout your body and in the middle of it, you manage to look at him, his face is masked with pleasure from the way his eyes are half shut and his lips pressed together.
Maybe the two of you want it so much that the sex feels rushed and a little rough, almost animalistic even. You can feel you're about to cum and so is he.
"Don't cum inside," you warn him before bringing his head close for a sloppy kiss on his lips.
In return, Minho goes sloppy with his thrusts that the bed quakes along with his movements and you're gripping the sheet to hold on to. He's twitching inside you and your legs are shaking. The knot in your stomach keeps tightening and you feel like exploding at any minute now.
He incessantly thrusts into you while you keep gripping the sheet, he probably senses that you're on the brink of climaxing and takes you there, sending you into your release with your eyes screwed shut, seeing white. He cums not long after you and keeps himself deep into you, completely forgetting your warning.
When it occurs to you that he completely forgot about your warning, you slowly push him away and force him to pull out of you.
"I told you not to cum inside," you whine.
Minho's eyes fixated on the way his cum drips out of you, pearly white and glistening wet, inviting him to taste. He finds a way to solve it by settling his head between your legs and licking your mixed juices off of your cunt and not hesitating to swallow it. He sucks on your gushing hole before using his tongue to insert it, he makes sure to not leave any drop of his cum in you.
Watching him eating you and swallowing his own cum is getting you off in the best way, you suddenly don't mind it that much that he cum inside you. If anything, you want him to fill you so you get to watch him do it all over again.
"Stop, Minho! Stop!" You tell him, tugging at his hair to stop him from diving further into your wetness.
He abruptly stops and lifts his head with his mouth and chin glistening wet with your essence. You grab him by the front of his shirt and make him hover above you again. You know you already got what you want and it's time to stop.
What are you going to do now? You ask yourself.
Seize the chance. This is probably the last time you ever had this chance and this could be the one and only chance. You roll him over and straddle him, thinking of having him again for the last time, selfishly.
Taking a moment for this could be the only chance you get to do it, you look at him and his beautiful face, and you allow yourself to kiss his lips. You're running your hands down his clothed chest and patiently unbuttoning his shirt, then part it open to reveal his toned upper half body.
It's only fair if you get to touch him all over too so you do it, using your hands and your lips next, it's just you and miles and miles of his warm, honey skin.
Minho lets you do everything as he lays on his back, watches you kissing every inch of his abdomen, and eventually has him in your mouth again. He props his hands against the bed to see how your lips wrapped around his cock.
After a while, you suddenly pull out and gasp for air, "We have to stop."
He sits up on the bed and puts your hair away from your face, "But I don't want to stop," he says, then continues putting your hair away to the back so he can kiss your neck, chest, and breasts.
They're just words, they've been just words that you say in vain and have no effect to make you stop whatsoever. You only say that just to remind you that this feels so wrong but it feels good to do it.
You sit on his lap and position his cock at your entrance again, slowly, you lower yourself on him. You let out a mewl as you take him in little by little, feeling his girth stretching you out.
"Do you want to stop?" He asks you with his hands cradling your head in between.
"We have to," you sigh with your eyes closed, overwhelmed by his cock that buries deep inside you.
"I don't want to," he breathlessly says, holding you by the waist, guiding you to start moving.
Putting your arms around his shoulders for support, you're switching between pulsating and rolling your hips around him as he latches his lips on your neck and chest.
Somehow, he feels bigger and harder inside you, and he fills you better, therefore, you just want to keep feeling his length around you. However, in the middle of it, your logic fights to come out of you.
"This is wrong," you breathlessly mutter.
"Mmh-hmm," he hums against your lips, mindlessly answering to you.
"This is so wrong, Minho," you say again as you keep moving to chase your high.
If this is wrong then why it feels so good? If this is wrong then you never want to be right. If this is wrong then you want to be a sinner, forever.
"Oh, I can't do this anymore," you cry, it's unclear whether it's the body or your conscience speaking.
"Keep going, keep going," he repeatedly mutters through his gritted teeth, watching you bouncing on his cock.
The sex is more intense and harder than the previous one, you keep holding your breath even though you're running out of air. Your nails dug into his skin, your mouth locked with his lips, and you feel a sheen of sweat forming on your skin.
It all comes down to the one moment when everything hits you all at once. Other than the wave of dopamine and oxytocin that surge through your body, you feel good, you feel light and happy, but underneath that, you feel that bitter feeling, guilt that is gnawing and eating you alive from the inside.
You open your eyes and find Minho looking at you with a soft gaze and it feels tender that you feel like crying, or you're about to as you feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes.
"Oh, God! What have I done?" You roughly brush the hair stuck to your moist forehead.
"It's okay," Minho says, trying to justify this act of betrayal.
"Oh, my God!" You press the heels of your palms to your eyes to stop you from crying.
Minho gently holds your chin and softly presses a kiss on your lips as if he's trying to take the pain away but that's useless because you caused this yourself and he's a part of the problem.
But his kiss no longer holds the same effect, you feel restless the more he kisses you so you slowly pull away and keep a safe space between you and him.
"Let's just stop," you say with a sigh and then rush to get off his lap. You lowly gasp from the sudden emptiness and once your feet touch the floor, you're staggering backward.
Then, you feel it, his hot cum that drips out of you and down your inner thigh.
"I can help you with that," Minho offers.
You immediately hold your hand up at him and firmly say, "Just stop!"
You start fixing your dress, putting your arm in the straps, and pulling them to your shoulders. You look around for your underwear and once you find it, you put it on.
"Kim can't know about this," you meekly say as you pull the hem of your dress and smooth them down.
There's no looking back at it now. You've got what you wanted and now it's time to move on. You turn the door knob and head out without saying anything else.
Rejoining the party downstairs, you immediately head to the kitchen to get a drink but on the way there, someone catches you by the hand.
"Come, dance with me!" Kim says with a grin, pulling you with her to the middle of the room.
"Kim, I–" you can't find anything to say to her without the guilt clogging your throat, "I need a drink."
"Here. Have mine!" She hands you her cup.
"I'll get us drinks and get back to you, okay?" You kindly refuse her but she won't let go of your hand.
"Oh, come on, it's my favorite song!" She pleads with her puppy eyes, making you feel worse than you already are.
Seeing her and how oblivious she is to what you and Minho have done is breaking your heart.
That brings you to the third and last statement: That will be the first and the last time you've had sex with Minho.
-
Things are going back to normal. Or that's what it seems to you.
You're still roommates with Kim and she's still oblivious about what you and Minho did behind her back which means he keeps true to his promise.
And yes, he still comes to the apartment but it doesn't bother you as it used to. You learn that your friendship with Kim is far more valuable than his boyfriend's cock, in fact, you've been taking her kindness for granted.
So for these past few days, you've been trying to avoid them as much as possible. You purposely come home late from work and if you do find them together in the apartment, you make excuses to stay in your bedroom.
Fewer interactions means fewer chances of this guilt from bringing you down further.
The new plan is to get your own place as soon as possible and for that to happen, you have to start looking for it.
Today, Gaspard offers to help you check a few places and it's also the perfect getaway than staying in the apartment. You quietly get dressed and slip out of your bedroom to find Kim catches you while dunking her teabag into her cup.
"Where are you going?" She asks.
You don't want to tell her about it yet that you plan on moving out soon so you make up an excuse on the spot, "Just getting a few things for work, yeah," you lie.
She tosses the teabag into the trash and uses a spoon to stir it, "Just getting a few things for work, huh?"
"Yeah, I need new work shoes," you lie again, seamlessly this time.
"And you think you don't need my help?"
"No, no," you hastily reply, "I just know how much you like staying in on the weekends."
"I would to go out on the weekend too."
Kim keeps misunderstanding you so you decide to tell her, "I'm going out with Gaspard," you admit, but keep the details from her.
Kim lets out a laugh and puts down her cup of tea, "Oh, my God! Why did you lie about it?"
"I don't know. It feels weird," you awkwardly answer.
"Why would it be weird? Cause he's my friend?"
"Yeah..." you meekly say.
She laughs again and comes up to you, "Why would it be weird that my roommate is going out with my good friend?"
That's true, this is nothing compared to fucking your roommate's boyfriend. You swallow the guilt that crawls out of your throat.
"I can lend you my shoes to match it with that cute dress?" She offers, kind as always.
"No, it's fine. It's comfortable this way," you say, opting for the sneakers you're wearing since you're going to do a lot of walking today.
"As long as you're comfortable," she says, fixing your hair as she speaks.
The front door opens and the two of you are turning your heads to see who's coming, it's none other than Minho. You hurriedly sling your purse around your shoulder and ready to leave.
"I'd better get going," you tell Kim, giving her a quick hug.
"You can come home as late as you want," she jokingly says as she hugs you back, "Actually, don't bother coming home tonight."
You laugh it off and pull away while ignoring Minho who walks to the kitchen to get something out of the fridge. You head for the door and wave bye at Kim before getting out.
-
The search for a new place comes to fruition, you have two potential living spaces but the only problem is you can't afford the rent, yet.
You end the day with a hearty dinner also as a treat for Gaspard for being so helpful and patient with you. He's simply a great guy to be with and you wonder why didn't you want to fuck him instead of Minho.
Oh fuck, you think about Minho again and it reminds you that he's in the apartment now so you stay out as late as you can. You consider Gaspard's offer to come and visit his place but you don't want to give him the impression that this is a date.
It's too casual to be counted as a date in the first place but you make sure to promise him a proper one next time.
"Maybe next time when I'm not sweaty and the day is not as humid as today," you kindly refuse the offer.
"I agree," he says as his hair turns a lot curler in this humidity and shyly brushes it to the back.
He walks you to the entrance of your apartment building and you turn on your feet to face him, "Thank you for today," you sincerely say.
"No worries. I had fun today," he coyly says with a smile.
You know he wants to kiss you and you want to kiss him too because he's just so attractive and fun to be with, he's a great guy... you can list so many reasons why you should kiss him so you muster up the courage to do it.
You stand on your tiptoe and press a kiss on his lips, putting your hand on his shoulder for support and Gaspard returns the kiss with so much gentleness with his hand cupping your jaw.
In the middle of it, you come to a realization that you kiss him for so many reasons but not because you like him. You slowly pull away from the kiss and quickly put on a smile for him.
"Goodnight, Gaspard," you mutter.
He allows himself to place a gentle caress on your cheek and smiles back at you as he says back, "Goodnight!"
The walk back to the apartment feels like a punishment. At least, it's late enough that you're sure Kim is already asleep by now so you quietly unlock the door, pushing it open without making any noise, and walk through the living room until you get to the safety of your room.
You kick your shoes off, throw your purse onto the bed, and take off your jacket, just standing there in your dress facing the huge mirror with your reflection staring back at you.
"Do you need help with that?" Minho asks through the cracks of your door.
You hate it that he's still here and you're happy to see him, you're not answering but he comes to your aid anyway. He stands right behind you and slowly unzips your dress for you.
It must be intentional the way his knuckles graze your skin as he pulls the zipper down your back.
The memories from that night come back to you and unlock all the feelings that you try to keep at the bottom of your heart.
Minho then places his hand on your shoulder and looks at you through the mirror, "Do you need help with anything else?" He asks with a voice so low it's almost like a whisper.
You turn your head to the side and meet his gaze, "No."
All sorts of thoughts come rushing through your head but it's the same contradicting questions: Take the chance or pass? Right or wrong? Continue or stop? Now or never?
Those questions going around your head and won't stop bothering you until you make up your mind.
You turn around to face him and notice how close he's standing in front of you, so close that you can feel the heat his body is emitting.
"But I'll help myself," you say and then kiss him.
Well, you guess people can tell which one is the lie now.
-
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silence immersed the room as the door clicked shut behind you. the ticking clock a reminder of how little time you have.
“you’re such an asshole, you know that?” you spewed to the male in front of you, your features displaying a look of anger.
katsuki rolled his eyes. “well, it’s not like i get called a ray of fuckin’ sunshine. what else did you honestly expect?” he crossed his arms over his chest, taking a seat atop of the long metal table.
“not much, yet you still seem to subceed my expectations.”
“subceed? seriously?” katsuki paused to let a scoff escape his lips. “you’re upset because i’m actually selling this story? the only one, might i add. this was your shitty grand idea!”
unknowingly, you took a step forward.
“the idea was to make it known we disliked each other. not for you to publicly shame and insult me!”
you, katsuki and a few other heroes were invited to attend a press conference. while the original topic was to discuss about the mission you all completed the day before, the topic began to stray away and focus on the relationship between you and katsuki.
japan knows of the hatred you and katsuki shared between each other, that was no unknown fact. the media described you two as fiery rivals considering both of your quirks contained fuel.
you two despised each other. or at least that’s the lie you fooled everyone with.
you were unsure when katsuki started to look appealing to the eye, how attractive he was when he was drowned in sweat, how you began to long for the small but noticeable glances he sent you in public. you couldn’t tell when it happened. but before you knew it, a small pool of desire that had katsuki’s name printed on it began to fill every minute of the day.
“which is no different than what we used to do. you want them to believe it? then don’t take my shit. suck it up and be a bigger asshole than i already am.” he was right. you know he was right. but it was so difficult to pretend as if you hated him.
even if you called him a bitch, or a cunt, maybe even call him out for having a small dick—which you know is far from the truth—that still wouldn’t deny the peace you felt whenever you were with katsuki. how the world seemed to stop still on its axis. how there were no rain, wind or time. just pure bliss.
fuck.
out of everyone, it just had to be him? his captivating, intense ruby irises. his brash, abrasive demeanor. only his words that could seem to sway you. the man the world deemed you to abhor.
instead of admitting the truth, you twist his words. “well, i’m pleased to know it’s so easy for you to do.”
“jesus fuck, y/n.” now, katsuki rose from his position, never once breaking eye contact with you. “you think this is easy for me? you think i like getting up there and lying through my teeth? doing this is the one of the hardest things i’ve ever done.”
he walks closer and even closer to you, minimizing the distance you established for good reasons. this is how it always happens; one of you forgets about the space you two have to maintain until words don’t seem to work anymore. instead, your lips weave together, forming a new way to communicate.
but you don’t move. you don’t want to.
“is it? all those insults feels like it comes pretty smooth to you.”
katsuki pauses as he takes a second to analyze you. his eyes scan your body then leading right up to your face.
“because those are the words i wish i could mean. every time, it burns me to say those things about you when i’d rather be up there claiming every single part about you.” he lowered to a whisper, but his voice maintained a fervent tone.
his hand raises, slow and steady. he cups your cheek, gently swiping his thumb across your cheek. instinctively, you lean into his palm, your eyes softening as you gaze into his eyes.
“you think i enjoy this?” you watch his jaw tighten, his hand dropping to your hip. “think i like watching you talk with those eager men? it takes everything in me to not beat them shitless for daring to come across you. do you know how hard it is to fight the urge to pull you in and show them that you’re not available?”
too captivated by his words, you didn’t notice how katsuki lowered his head. you could feel the heat of his body from how he gave you no room to breathe. he placed his lips on your soft skin, slowly kissing the side of your neck.
no. resist him. your mind was screaming. this couldn’t go on forever. at some point, you guys had to stop.
“what will make them back off? if i mark you up? think they’ll understand then?” he proposed the question, but to you, it seemed more like he was asking for permission.
you didn’t know what effect katsuki placed on you to have you like this. but in this moment, you didn’t care about the rumors, the consequences, your image. it was all pushed back in the back of your head. so, you slightly tilted your head upwards, giving him more leeway to continue.
katsuki gripped your hips. not too strong to leave a mark but strong enough to squeeze a small moan out of you.
“don’t you fuckin’ understand, y/n?” he leans away to look in your eye.
“what?” you meekly responded.
“i go insane when it comes to you. i’m not the kind of guy that drools over any woman’s attention. but, you… fuck.” he stops himself, from what you can only assume was to control himself with whatever he was about to say. “not being able to have you only makes me crave you more.”
you stay quiet.
“you know how many times i’ve tried to resist you?”
“how many?” finally, you spoke.
“too many fuckin’ times. i’m done fighting it, y/n.”
confusion struck your face. “what do you mean?”
“be mine. forget the press, forget our pr managers. be with me.” katsuki brings you closer with the hand placed on your hip, the action drawing you to one conclusion.
he leans in and interlocks his lips with yours. immediately, you drown in the feeling of his soft but chapped lips that you couldn’t seem to push away. somehow, you find the strength to pull back from him.
“not here. not in pub-”
“yes here.”
with his tone, you could mistake him to be aggressive in this moment. but over the months, you managed to be able to read his eyes from the forbidden glances he’s sent your way; how he really felt through the way he wore his eyes.
katsuki’s eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his soft ruby eyes shifted from your lips to your e/c irises.
there was a look behind his eyes. there were more watchful, more tender than usual. almost as if he was pleading with his eyes. like he was begging.
so, how could you say no to him in this state? him being so vulnerable with you?
but that was always the problem.
you could never say no to katsuki bakugou, no matter what.
your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him in with your eyes. he inclined his head and laid his lips on your mouth. the silence that did wrap the room ten minutes ago was replaced with the noise of sloppy kisses, your mouths powering over each other.
you can feel your heart rate increase from the action, even more noticeably so when he entangles a fist in the back of your shirt. he needs you closer, maybe within his skin if possible.
following his action, you guide your fingers through his ash blonde strands, sending a shiver down his spine. he nibbles on the bottom of your lip, pulling it just slightly.
“we really shouldn’t be doing this.” your murmur, yet his ears catches it. “this would be the hottest topic for the media.”
a snicker parted his lips. “we just can’t be caught. but the day you stop being scared, i’m ready.” his words vague and simple, yet still holding so much promise.
“i hate you.”
and you did. you hated that he was too enticing. too irresistible.
“thought it was hard for you to say things you don’t mean?” he referred from earlier. of course, that was just like him. the same him you mistakenly fell for.
“just shut up.” was all you replied with before leaning back in to connect his lips with yours, choosing to help him with your statement.
this was supposed to be like a forbidden love trope but i think i just revealed how thirsty i am😔
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