#forgot we had that tag oops

[inhuman-obey-me]

✨ Fun Demonology Trivia Time ✨

So, we noticed a fun little detail in the latest lesson!

(spoilers for Nightbringer Lesson 25 below!)

This whole bit is a reference to the Ars Goetia, part of the Lesser Key of Solomon which lists Solomon's 72 demons. In the Ars Goetia, Barbatos actually is the eighth demon! Though, we might say being 8th out of 72 is actually pretty good...

Below is Barbatos' entry in the Ars Goetia.

Though OM doesn't follow everything in the Ars Goetia, you can see that this is also where Barbatos's power over time comes from -- though, in the actual book, there are no less than seventeen demons related to knowing about the past and/or future.

And hey, it's okay to be 8th, Barb. For all that the lesson focused on Asmo's need to be number 1, he's actually all the way down at 32 on that list...

[strawberry-smog]

I find it interesting that regardless of whether a Fidd/Ford meta post is trying to argue that they’re healthy or toxic or in between or whatever they all still tend to take the stance of “Fiddleford is such a saint for putting up with and forgiving Ford!” when the more canon stuff I see about him the more I’m convinced he’s a fucking maniac. I don’t mean this is a “wow McGucket is so problematic, I guess he’s the REAL toxic friend” way, but I do mean this in a way where I don’t find how he acts around Ford very admirable at all.

Like, this is a guy who cannot have a serious argument or disagreement with Ford, not just to the point where he hides his own feelings around him and then snaps, but to the point where he hides his own feelings around him and then snaps and then secretly uses his memory gun to erase it out of both their heads so it’s like the argument never even happened. This is a guy who moved to and stayed in a town full of dangerous monsters that gave him panic attacks because Ford asked him to. This is a guy who moved ten hours away from his wife and small child for a year, visited them once on Christmas, and then immediately flew back to work because he got into a fight with his wife over not buying her a present while he was busy hand-making Ford, a man who doesn’t celebrate Christmas, two presents. This is a guy who started a cult to cope with all of this rather than telling Ford something was wrong. This is a guy who stood by Ford even after receiving a really mean and disrespectful ultimatum from him and only left when he got irrefutable proof that Ford was about to unleash a demon that would devour the earth, and even then he just ran off to forget everything with his cult rather than try to, you know, stop Ford from doing that.

This is him bending over backwards for Ford, yes, but this is fucking insane. Yeah sure he’s pretty put upon by Ford, but he’s also putting quite a lot of this upon himself, because he can’t just have an important discussion with him and will instead martyr himself upon Ford’s disregard endlessly, to the detriment of himself, everyone who knows these two, and, tbh, Ford.

[nanstar200]

Erm hi hello, I drank coffee and created the vista thing. And some other doodles from some time ago!

(VISTA AND THE SWIRLY GLASSES SPAM BELONG TO @cupidtxt AND THE WINGED CREATURE BELONGS TO @fexarii !!!!!)

[mofsblog]

Scratch is Lillith Evidence

I've kind of accepted this as canon but I havent really seen anyone compile all the evidences so uh here for anyone curious

Kayne first references her in Part 20 which does reveal that Lillith exists in Malevolent:

In part 37, when John, Arthur and Oscar are exploring the barn, John sees a painting of a woman with pale skin and dark hair and seems to go into a kind of trance when he looks at her (which. Gestures. Lillith. Gestures. Succubus-y powers. Gestures)

Later when they open the gateway in Part 38, Scratch merges with a woman who looks exactly like the one in the painting and she's described as having "alabaster skin", aka world's most highly specific descriptor, which also happens to the same description used in the Lillith entry in the Malleus Monstorum for CoC seventh edition (BIG THANKS TO @/unsafewaters for sending the images to me)

And then in Intermezzo, Kayne directly mentions having a daughter and claims that she would "love" Arthur which could tie back to him being Her Favourite. Also I don't like using evidence that isn't in the source material but in the post season 4 QnA, when Harlan's reading out the notes he wrote for Intermezzo, one of the things he reads out is the daughter line, which implies it was important enough to mention (and wasn't just a throwaway joke)

And last but not least, Yorick mentions that Scratch/Owlexander/the entity watching them is close in power to Kayne which would make sense if he created her

Also earlier in the episode, Yorick implied Scratch may be working against Kayne specifically which does imply they have a pre existing relationship which would make sense if she was Lillith:

Extra evidence: In the fake Edward Willaim Allan's journal, he has an entry where talks about how, despite the fact he distrusts his "dream dweller" (who we know is Scratch pre fracturing), something about them still fills him with awe and he feels oddly seduces by them:

Which is likely Lillith using her powers to influence him and make him easier to manipulate (since it's heavily implied, if not basically explicitly stated, she was using him to open a gateway for her to enter the world)

Also! Semi unrelated but while I have your attention and talking about theories! I just wanna highlight a minor theory of mine that there's a high chance Kayne trapped Lillith in some kind of pocket dimension or prison of sorts because the prison line (from the second to last screenshot in this post) feels like foreshadowing and I find it odd that if she supposedly is close to him in power, she would need a humans help to travel through worlds (Also, she's framed as getting "freed" in part 38 when they do eventually open the gateway which leads to the question: free from what?) so that's something to consider

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 3

part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol

not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf

in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 2 here<

>pt. 4 here<

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.

Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.

Just his luck, of course.

But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!

So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.

… Kind of.

That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…

That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.

No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.

It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.

Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.

So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…

Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.

He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.

Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.

Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.

Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.

It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.

It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.

Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.

Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.

He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.

The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.

He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)

Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.

Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!

In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto… something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.

Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.

Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.

What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.

The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.

From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.

No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.

Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!

He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.

He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.

Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.

Shit!!!

Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!

... Okay, plan B!

Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.

Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.

The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.

One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.

Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.

The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.

Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.

They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.

The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.

He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.

“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.

“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.

Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.

Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.

The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.

Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.

“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.

“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.

He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”

“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.

They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.

Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.

The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.

They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.

After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.

“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.

Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.

“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!

Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?

Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.

“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.

He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”

Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”

“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”

Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”

Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”

Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.

“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”

Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”

Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”

“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.

Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.

Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”

Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”

Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”

“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”

Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”

Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”

Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”

Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”

Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.

Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”

Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”

“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”

“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.

They both laughed.

“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”

“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.

“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”

It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”

Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.

“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.

Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.

And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.

A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”

He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.

“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”

Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.

“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.

“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”

The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.

“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”

“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.

Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.

“Uh. What--”

Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”

Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.

Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!

Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”

Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”

The world screeched to a halt.

Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”

Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”

Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”

Damn. Damn it all.

Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”

Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”

Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.

“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”

Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”

Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.

“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”

“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”

Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”

Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”

The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”

Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”

Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.

But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.

The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.

He was standing so close to him! Oh god!

The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.

Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.

“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.

All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.

Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.

Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.

Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.

Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.

Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.

After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.

“Damn. There you are,”

Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.

Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”

The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.

“Hobie!”

Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”

“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.

“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”

“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”

Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.

Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.

With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.

“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.

“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.

“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”

“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. “Yeah… let’s swing!”

Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.

Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.

“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.

Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.

“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…

Miles: gonna*

MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]

Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)

Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects

MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..

Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn

Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates

Miles: It be ya own people

From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.

From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.

[kittrrrr]

Gift for @lumaberrycream as a part of @mcyt-winter-of-mf

Summary: False and Grian get Cleo back for the pink creature prank

Story under cut

False stared up at the creature that Cleo had built atop her base. It was the worst thing she'd ever seen. It burned her eyes every moment she looked at it. It was a mess. She was not dealing with this today. She was just going to take some coffee and look around the shopping district. Yes, that sounded better than whatever dealing with the pink monstrosity entailed.  False turned around and fled- er, retreated tactfully. There were better things to be doing with her time. It wasn't long to get to the shopping district, especially with False's wings. She was proud of the way they looked, after years of neglect, they shone like she remembered how they used to. 

Up in the sky, False was swifter than she could ever dream of being on foot. She was safe up here. It was extremely hard to be attacked by surprise, as long as she paid attention to the world around her. It wasn't something that she needed to worry about, given that the Hermitcraft server was safe. Still, whispers of her old servers hovered in the back of her mind. She never really ever let herself just drift away to the rush of the wind and the freezing air that bit at her skin. Soon enough, her flight came to an end, and she was circling around the shopping district. False took a moment to pin down the shops that stood out even among a server full of detailed and beautiful builds, anchoring herself in their familiarity. There was Doc's shop, a giant hourglass towering over everything The portal, with its ridiculous pickles that reminded False of Tango's ToonTown. Ren's beacon shop towering over the countless smaller shops, like the Wool Street. 

It was a comfort, and as eclectic it was, it meshed together surprisingly well. It didn't stress False out. It might have been a mess, but it was a familiar mess. She spiraled down, landing in front of the shopping district portal. She peeked inside, but it seemed that Joe's pop-up had been removed without destroying the structure of the portal itself. Now that she was in the shopping district, what did she actually need? False counted on her fingers- it didn't seem like she actually needed anything, but she really didn't want to deal with the pink thing yet. Or ever. She would, but- 

Oh, perfect! She could figure who built the stupid thing, she could get their help in destroying it. The prank would be cleaned up soon enough, once it served its purpose, sure, but she could get rid of it faster and possibly use it to prank whoever had decided to build it in the first place). Where should she start, though? She glanced at the time- Perfect! Grian would want to get out of being at the permit office, and they could both procrastinate at the same time! False ruffled her wings and took off again.

The permit office, and subsequently the profit game, were pretty hard to find. They were tucked deep into the woods, across a bridge. It felt exactly the sort of place where a NPC would send you on a side quest. It wasn't very far; it couldn't be, to still be in the shopping district. False swooped down. She dodged tree branches the best she could. She grazed branches a few times, and she was sure that her wings were full of leaves, if her hair was any indication, but she got some very needed forest flying. It wasn't exactly like Grian was amazing at it either, despite being the only other aviain on the server. It just must be because forest flying sucks. False lands in the parking lot of the permit office. The stone was hot enough that False could feel it through her shoes. 

The door was still out of order. False rolled her eyes and went around to the hole that had been dug into the foundation of the permit office. It was how most hermits entered the office, despite the poepoe having patched it multiple times (strange how they can fix a hole in the foundation regularly but couldn't be bothered with the actual door, the reason why the hole was a problem in the first place). She crawled out of it into the clean, albeit dusty, office. She sure was in a state, full of leaves and covered in dirt, but False knew that most people who arrived here wouldn't be much better. Grian, somehow, was always prestite upon arriving.  She'd have to ask him about that sometime. She heard a groan as she stood up. It looked like Grian was here. He was dressed up in a fancy suit and tie, not something False ever really associated with him. He was leaning back in a chair under a rusted over lamp, a magazine over his face. The perfect picture of abject boredom. False grinned. Oh, she'd sure hate to spoil Grian nap-

"BOO!" She yelled, startling the parrot avian out of his chair and on the floor in a series of crashing sounds. Dramatic as Grian was, he continued to flail around on the floor as False came up and leaned over the counter. He glared at her, not breaking eye contact as he rose from the ground, feathers fluffed. 

"Are you here for permit related reasons?" Grian asked, then cut False off before she could reply. "Oh, that's really a shame. No one's come by in such a long time that I'm afraid it will take me a while to get everything ready. If you would please hold...." Before False could stop him, Grian dropped a disk into the jukebox embedded in the counter. The first jazzy strains of music floated through the air, the true embodiment of elevator music. As the trumpets kicked in, Grian fixed his chair, and derusted one of the copper lamps. By the second round of ah's, he had a stack of forms out. False made no attempt to stop him. If he was going to her on hold, then the least she could do would be to also waste his time.  He spread them out over the copier as the song continued on, a calming, repetitive presence in the background. Finally, when the song ended, Grian approached the counter holding a whole stack of papers. "Now, if you could tell me the purpose of your visit to the permit-"

"Would you happen to know who built the crazy clown thing that's currently occupying my base?" False cut in. She didn't want to get swept up in paperwork. Grian groaned. He shoved the forms off of the counter, spilling them onto the floor. It would be a miracle if that was cleaned up anytime in the next two hundred years. 

"Cleo." Grian said, leaning onto the counter.

"What!? C'mon Grian, couldn't you have dragged that out a little bit? Isn't that sort of your speciality, here at the permit office?" False groaned. Of course Grian would know how to do exactly the opposite of what False wanted him to do. Pesky bird.  "Gossip is better spread fast. Doesn't get twisted that way." Grian stretched his wings. "Besides, don't you want to get back at her sooner rather than later?"

"I was planning on making them clean up the creature." He gasped in horror.

"What?! For a prank of that magnitude, you've got to do a little bit of retaliation! At least a little bit!" He was practically crawling over the counter. False smiled and took a step back. He moved more when he got excited and without any other place but to go forward, it meant he was getting into her personal space. She didn't want to get trapped in- right now, the chains on both her sides would hinder her escape those ways.

"I'm starting to see why you've started so many wars, Grian. But you've got a point. Besides, it's more time to procrastinate. No downsides here."

"Well, come on then!" Grian finally hopped over the counter, False scurrying out of the way. "I've got the perfect idea!"

"Care to enlighten me?"

"I already did that. It's not that dark in here anymore." He broke through the door, fixing it after False stepped into the sun. "You're the Queen of Heads, Hearts, and Body Parts, right? Wouldn't it be funny if you- with my help, of course!- took all of the heads off of Cleo's armor stands and hid them somewhere? If Cleo thinks about it hard enough, that should be able to determine who took the head, but-"

"They'll be too confused trying to find them! No time like the present- Cleo's not on right now!" With that, False and Grian launched into the air at about the same time, heading to Cleo's base. It was not as expansive as it had been in season seven. They wouldn't have to take as many heads. Grian and False split up to tackle it. They both agreed to stay away from any of the more complicated armor stands, like the entity. It would be hard to replicate and it had taken Cleo long enough to put them up in the first place. By the end of it, they both had a fair amount of heads. 

"It's getting late. Cleo will be on soon- we better hurry up and hide these!" False pointed to the pile of heads. "I'm thinking a big pile- hoard of heads or something like that." Grian lit up.

"Let's put it right under the wizard tower! C'mon, c'mon." Grian snatched False's wrist, about to drag her off to find the perfect hiding spot under the tower. She flinched, pulling away from him. "Oh! False, sorry, sorry! Are you okay-" False shook her head. 

"It's fine. I do prefer a warning though. I won't be responsible for you getting run through with a sword." False slipped her hand into Grian's. It was nice, the touch. An old familiarity, one that False didn't indulge often. The two hollowed a cavern about halfway to bedrock directly behind the tower that housed the sculk entity. The heads were stacked in a messy pile. It was topped off by a sign Grian wrote, declaring the place the hoard of heads. They snuck their way to the surface, False filling up their tunnel with stone and dirt as she went. Just as she was placing the last of the dirt, a message chimed on both Grian and False's communicators. ZombieCleo has joined the game. False offered her hand to Grian, and they flew up into a tree. It wasn't like it mattered, since she was still covered in leaves from earlier forest flying. They watched as Cleo spawned in, walking between buildings, taking stock. They grew more and more confused with each building they looked through. "Who the heck took all of my heads?!" She yelled finally. False couldn't help but giggle. Grian poked her, only provoking more giggles. They were too loud, and Cleo saw them. They opened their mouth, about to reply, but Grian cut her off.

"RUN!" He pushed off the branch he was perched on, and False wasn't far behind. Cleo squawked, but made no move to chase after them, the two best fliers on the servers. They flew away into the sunset, cackling, red and brown wings shining in the sky. Familiar, but no less cherished. 

[theriverpointace]

guess who just watched schmigadoon!! 🎶✨

[the-blorb-system]

Omg boo- we have a boo as well. I mean that's just one of her three names but it's the most commonly used one.

I would say more about her but I'm afraid of snitchers who'd tattletale me to a gatekeeper.

Oh yeah the imaginary stories. I as a 4 year old heard a story about the lion who wanted strawberries, and then proceeded to apparently babble for 90 minutes about god know who because no one understood a word I said.

..guess who doesn't like strawberries anymore

- Digi

Oooooof

I usually don't like strawberries. Or most fruit, actually, until I tried organic and realized it's because most produce just tastes like chemicals to me. (Autism moment, L)

I don't remember much of anything from being a kid (but I have a handful of pinpoint memories), so I couldn't say whether those home teachers were getting a real story or not XD

I'm also pretty lucky that most of my headmates seem to have decided that what I share on this blog is okay. It's risky, and we acknowledge it, but we've debated making the blog for months, and doing so was a very distinct decision. Hopefully we get to do more with it!

-Lizzy

[strawberista]

⚅— Continued from here. —⚅ ⚅— @petitprincekiryu —⚅

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

The question got a raucous laugh from the barista, and remembering well what he'd ordered last time he started on repeating that order again. "Oh, no, I have done some very stupid shit since the last time we talked. Absolutely, I've been a dumbass. But hey, ya learn from that sorta stuff, right? And alla the folks I hurt, I've had the good fortune to make amends with them. I'll never forget what I did, but I think it's alright now."

His cafe had made some changes as well. There were new items on the menu and new blends, things that he'd been experimenting with and perfecting. And since it was getting around the season, he was putting out the pumpkin donuts and coffee (though the coffee wasn't actually on the menu, a secret item for certain sweet-tooth customers), and there were even more posters and art pieces on the walls. The music of the district had settled considerably as well. The Composer and Producer both had been going to therapy, and though it had largely sacrificed their relationship, they were both in a much better place now.

Hands worked as seamlessly as before, and if he hadn't said it outright it might have been difficult to tell anything had changed with him at all. Aside from the anxiety that no longer weighed heavy on his shoulders, he seemed just the same as any other counterpart of himself. Careless and happy, full of life and light in his element here in the shop. And excited for a visitor he hadn't seen in such a long time.

"And that is to say, I'm working hard to make sure I don't make the mistakes I did in the past. I hurt a lotta people in part because of my own trauma and insecurities. I'm actively working on myself now, trying to learn how to work with the things I struggle with. I won't go into too much detail since it concerns from friends'a mine, too, but ya know. I apologized and I did what I could to fix the damage I had caused. They've forgiven me now, and I don't want to forget it or the actions leading to my growth, but I'm trying not to talk about it too much to respect the privacy of the other parties. You understand."

[mssishipi]

TASTE OF INDULGENCE

CHAPTER 2 – OOPS, IT'S SOUR

The sex was good. So fucking good. But somehow, Jay is making things difficult afterward. His sharp comments, his rough attitude, the way he keeps looking at you like you’re something he regrets. Annoying. Irritating. You need to be careful with the way you talk 'cause— oops, it's sour.

content tags: again everyone is either gay or fruity, bi! jake, bi! jay, pansexual! reader, profanities, reader being horny, sexual mutual pining (?), lots of pov switch, jay has a high pride (bear with him), sunoo is just sunoo, poorly written smut (going to proofread when i have time)

explicit content (smut): masturbation, anal sex (mxm), threesome (switch jake, switch jay, sub reader), cunilingus, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (don't!), multiple sex position, overstimulation, cream pie, belly bulging, facial. dacryphilia. MDNI! WC: 17.9K

want a taste?

7:10 AM.

A text notification lit up your phone screen.

Jay: We had a 7:30 class. Jake didn't want to wake you.

You blink at the time. 10:12 AM.

"Oh, fuck." You bolt upright, instantly regretting it when a sharp ache shoots through your thighs and up your spine. Your entire body hurts. Your throat stings. Your legs feel like they barely belong to you. You can't even walk straight at all, and every moment is torture.

Ignoring every screaming muscle, throwing on your uniform in record time. You grab the oversized turtleneck jacket hanging in Jay's apartment—no doubt his—to cover the bruises blooming across your neck.

You don't even think about eating or taking a bath. No time. You shove your things into your bag, slip your shoes on painfully slow, and practically limp out the door. By the time you're speed-walking (more like hobbling) down the university halls, you're out of breath, late, and completely miserable.

You barge into the lecture hall, panting. People inside the hall turn around their head, looking at you, suddenly making you feel conscious. While your professor gives you a pointed look, gesturing vaguely toward the empty seats.

"Sorry," you mumble, bowing slightly before sinking into your chair next to Sunoo. You drop your bag with a thud, wincing as your shoulders protest because everything hurts.

Sunoo, bless his nosy soul, immediately narrows his eyes at you, looking you up and down. "The hell are you wearing?" His voice is dripping with disgust.

You blink, tugging at the oversized turtleneck swallowing your entire frame. "Clothes?"

Sunoo looks offended that you would even try that excuse. "First of all, why are you not entirely on your uniform? Second, what is that outfit? And third—" he pauses, squinting at you, "where the hell were you during Chemistry?!"

You sigh, pressing your fingers against your throbbing temples. "Can you not interrogate me at ten in the morning?" You slump onto the table, resting your forehead against your arms.

Sunoo does not back down. "You? Skipping a major class? That's a first."

"I overslept," you mutter, voice muffled against your sleeves.

Sunoo gasps dramatically. "Overslept?! Girl, our vacant period was six hours—how the fuck did you oversleep that much?!"

You squeeze your eyes shut. His voice is a hammer against your already pounding head. "I'm sick," you groan.

Sunoo snorts, utterly unimpressed. "Yeah, no shit. You look like you crawled out of a man's closet and died."

"Shut up and send me the lecture notes," you grumble.

Sunoo glares, but does as you ask, muttering, "You better not fail this subject because of whatever the fuck you've been up to."

You straighten your back, pulling out your iPad, clicking it on—7% battery left. You groan, rubbing your palms over your face. Of course you forgot to charge it.

"Do you have a power bank?" you ask, voice bordering on pleading.

Sunoo sighs, shaking his head as he rummages through his bag. "Seriously, what did you do last night?"

Yeah. No way in hell you're answering that.

Abnormal Psychology was awkward as hell. You shared this class with Jay and Jake, which was already bad enough—but what made it worse was that they sat right next to you.

Jake slid into the seat to your right, all easy smiles and warmth, while Jay, dropped into the chair on your left, arms crossed, jaw tight. You stiffened, hyper-aware of just how close they were.

Across the table, Sunoo let out an audible huff, rolling his eyes as he aggressively placed his notebook down. He didn't say anything, but the look he shot you was pure what the fuck is going on?

Your fingers clenched around your pen, your heartbeat thudding in your ears. Jake, leaned in toward you. "Are you okay?" he asked, you swallowed, nodding quickly, keeping your gaze firmly on your desk.

"Did you eat?" You nodded again.

"Do you have time for lunch later?" You pause, your throat felt dry. You hesitated, sneaking a glance at Jay. Only to be met with an icy glare piercing straight through you.

Jake, still in his own world, leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, just for you. "Did you enjoy last night?"

Your grip tightened around your pen. Your breath felt shaky. You notice Sunoo's head tilted ever so slightly.

Jake smirked, barely audible as he added, "Do you think there should be a next time?"

A thrill shot through you—excitement, nerves, anticipation. Of course, you wanted that. Of course, It's a yes! It's a fucking yes!

Jay's posture had gone rigid. His hands curled into fists, his shoulders squared. You turned your head slightly, and there it was— That look, sharp and cold—but unmistakably directed at you.

Jake, completely oblivious, kept his soft smile, his fingers lightly drumming against the desk as he waited for your answer, but you're attention was not on him anymore. Because Jay's glare was burning into the side of your face, setting every nerve in your body on edge.

Why was he looking at you like that?! Why did it feel like he was angry?

Your throat felt dry, your palms clammy. You forced yourself to tear your gaze away, staring down at your iPad as if it could somehow shield you from whatever the hell Jay's problem was.

Jake nudged you lightly, still waiting.

"Uh, only if both of you mind," you managed to say, your voice light, a forced chuckle following your words. And because you were stupid, because some part of you needed to check, you glanced at Jay, just for a second. What a big mistake.

His eyes bore into you, glaring through your skull.  You snapped your head away, heat crawling up your neck.

What the hell is his problem?

The sex was good. No—more than that. It was amazing. It was the first time you ever felt that good, the first time sex had ever been something.

So why was he glaring?

It wasn't like you were about to steal Jake away from him. It wasn't like you had forced him into it. He agreed, didn't he? Unless... Did he not enjoy it? Was this whole situation making him uncomfortable? Did he regret it?

Maybe you were overthinking. Maybe he was just being his usual self. Maybe you should just walk away now, act like it never happened. Maybe that was what Jay wanted.

Agh, you're confused.

Sunoo lazily popped a sour candy into his mouth, squinting as the tartness hit his tongue. He let out a small grunt, shifting to a more comfortable position on the grass. The afternoon sun was hot, beating down on both of you, but you are too focused on your internal dilemma to noticed the heat.

"What does it mean if you have two friends? Friend number one smiles at you, treats you well, but friend number two always glares at you. But—" you paused, picking at the hem of your uniform, "friend number two is perfectly nice to friend number one?"

Sunoo gave you a long, unimpressed look, slowly chewing. "It means friend number two doesn't like you," he grumbled, voice flat, as if the answer was obvious.

You frowned, hugging your knees to your chest. "But what if..." You hesitated, debating whether you should even continue.

Sunoo sighed dramatically. "Oh, here we go. What if?"

You rolled your eyes but pressed on. "What if friend number one, friend number two, and I... shared a happy moment?"

Sunoo raised a brow. "Shared a happy moment? What the hell does that even mean?"

You felt heat creep up your neck. "I mean, like—" You cleared your throat. "Something really good happened, something we all enjoyed together. But now, friend number two acts weird with me."

Sunoo chewed thoughtfully, eyes narrowing. "Maybe friend number two just thinks of those happy moments as something they only wanted to share with friend number one."

You bit your lip, heart sinking.

"Maybe friend number two is jealous," Sunoo continued, tossing another candy into his mouth. "Because you got to be part of something they wanted to keep just between them and friend number one."

You inhaled sharply, your body shifting as you leaned back on your palms, eyes fixed on the field in front of you. The rhythmic sounds of students laughing and running filled the air

"Can friend number two just tell me they hate me already?" you muttered, exasperated. "I'm overthinking everything at this point."

Sunoo snorted, reaching into his pocket before offering you his pack of sour candy. "You expect men to communicate? Not a chance."

You rolled your eyes but took the package from him, ripping it open. "I never said friend number two was a man, geez," you huffed, popping a candy into your mouth. The sharp, sour taste made you wince slightly.

"I'm not that dumb, bitch." Sunoo grumble as he turned to you. You clicked your tongue but said nothing. Sunoo wasn't an idiot. If anything, he probably already had an idea of what—or who—this was really about. But thankfully, he didn't push any further.

With a sigh, you started thinking again. Was that really it? Did he really hate you? Was he really just jealous?

Your fingers curled against the grass, the uneven texture grounding you. If he didn't want you there, if he didn't want to share Jake, then why didn't he just stop it from the beginning?

He was the one who convinced you. He was the one who told you to give it a chance. And yet now, every time you saw him, his eyes burned into you.

You swallowed hard, staring blankly ahead. His words echoed in your mind.

"He's mine—and letting you into our bed doesn't mean anything more. You're just there for fun."

"I'll always be the one who fucks him better."

Maybe that was all this was. A reminder and a warning to know your place.

You sighed, rubbing your temple before shoving another sour candy into your mouth. The sharp, tangy taste made you wince.

Just like him. Acting so fucking sour.

Jay's life was a fucking mess.

Every time he saw you, he remembered. Every time he didn't see you, he still remembered.

It pissed him off to no end. It made him furious that his brain kept replaying that night—your whines, your shaking legs, the way you screamed when you came undone on Jake's fingers.

He scoffed, almost laughing at himself. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was Park Jongseong, for fuck's sake. There was no way in hell he was going to let some pathetic girl like you get under his skin.

You weren't special. You were just a moment—a mistake, something that should've been forgettable.

And yet. Why the fuck was he hard right now, thinking about the way you squirted all over his sheets? The way your body trembled when he slapped your pussy raw, the way your lips parted when you gasped for air under his grip?

His jaw tightened. He hated you. He fucking hated you. He hated your guts. He hated the way you always stared at his boyfriend with those wide, hungry eyes. He hated that you got to see Jake like that, got to have his attention, even for a moment.

Most of all, though— He hated that you never once looked at him the same way.

"Is she replying to you? Because she's not responding to me." Jake let out a dramatic sigh, flopping onto the bed. His phone dangled loosely in his grip as he stared up at the ceiling, defeated. "She won't even accept my follow request."

Jay didn't respond. He just kept typing on his laptop, the only sound in the room was the faint clicking of his keyboard.

Jake glanced at his phone again, lips pressing together. "Is she okay? She's been wearing turtlenecks under her uniform for almost a week now," he muttered. "And her voice—it's different. Kinda raspy. I noticed it during our Social Psych class."

Jay's typing slowed as Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Do you think she's avoiding us? Did I do something wrong? Am I making her uncomfortable?"

Jay inhaled deeply, fingers pausing on the keyboard as his boyfriend's endless stream of questions continued.

"I think she's more comfortable with you," Jake added, eyes still fixed on his phone.

Jay almost laughed. Comfortable with him? Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes before finally speaking. "She would come back if she wanted to," he muttered, still not looking away from his screen. "Stop overthinking it."

Jake frowned, crossing his arms. "I'm not overthinking. I just want to know if she's okay."

Jay clenched his jaw. "She's fine."

"You don't know that," Jake countered. "You haven't even checked on her."

Jay's fingers twitched. "You have," he shot back. "So why does it matter what I do?"

Jake sighed, shaking his head. "Because I know you care, even if you don't want to admit it."

Jay stiffened, his fingers tightening around his mouse. Jake sat up straighter, watching him carefully. "I just want to fix things, okay? She's been distant. And I don't think it's just because she's busy."

"Just leave her alone for the meantime," Jay muttered, trying to keep his tone neutral, but the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the irritation underneath Jay's words. "Babe, why are you so—"

"I'm not anything," Jay cut him off sharply, fingers resuming their typing, even though he wasn't actually focusing on the screen anymore.

Why does it matter so much? Why can't Jake just let it go? They had their fun, it happened, and now it was done. It was supposed to be done. But no—Jake kept thinking about you, kept asking about you, kept caring about you. It was pissing Jay off.

And what pissed him off even more was the fact that he wasn't any better. He didn't want to think about you.

Jay's fingers stilled on the keyboard.

You weren't even interacting with them anymore. You barely even looked at them. You were just out there, minding your own business, avoiding them. And yet, you still had this effect on both of them.

Jake was concerned about you.  Jay was pissed. That was it. That was all. He had no other reason to care.

"Jay?" Jake's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Jay exhaled through his nose, forcing his hands to relax. "Do whatever you want," he muttered. "Just don't expect me to give a shit."

Jay didn't know what kind of cosmic joke this was—how out of every possible student in this class, he ended up paired with you. Just two minor courses and one major, and somehow, somehow, he still couldn't escape you.

Like life was just laughing at him. And as if his patience wasn't already wearing thin, your stupid alarm had to go off. Again.

"Can you fucking turn off your alarm?" he hissed, glaring at you from across the table.

You blinked at him, unbothered, barely sparing him a glance as you silenced your phone. "It's just an alarm. Chill."

"Excuse me? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sunoo snapped beside you, rolling his eyes as he turned to Jay. "That's her alarm for her medicine."

Jay's jaw clenched. Of course your annoying best friend would come to your rescue. Not only was he stuck in a group with you, but Sunoo too—and somehow, by some miracle, without Jake around to be the buffer between him and his growing irritation.

What the fuck was he even doing here? And what was with this medicine you kept taking at exactly 3:30 PM?

Not that he cared, but it pissed him off that every time he was forced to be around you, your stupid alarm would interrupt the discussion, and then you'd excuse yourself to the bathroom.

It pissed him off that he had to spend another minute waiting for you to come back. He hated that he was noticing things about you. Like how you avoided looking at him unless you absolutely had to, like he wasn't even worth acknowledging.

You grab your bag and stand up, ready to leave, of course, Sunoo follows instantly, picking up your tumbler like some kind of assistant.

Before either of you can take a step, Jay huffs, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.

"Just take the damn medicine here," he says, sounding beyond annoyed. "I don't want to waste my time waiting for you two to come back. There's literally five minutes left in this meeting."

Both you and Sunoo pause, staring at him. Sunoo squints, looking personally offended by the audacity.

Meanwhile, you hesitate, shifting awkwardly before reluctantly sitting back down. You send Sunoo a silent look—a desperate please, let's just drop this before Jay kills me kind of look.

Jay watched as Sunoo sat down, rummaged through your bag with way too much enthusiasm, practically throwing things aside until he found what he was looking for.

"You're being so fucking insensitive," Sunoo snapped, pulling out a small container of pills and dramatically placing them in front of you. "She's literally sick."

Jay rolled his eyes, slumping back in his chair, arms crossed. "It's not like I told her not to take them."

"You're acting like it's an inconvenience!" Sunoo shot back, popping the cap off your tumbler. "She needs these!"

Meanwhile, you were panicking. Sunoo didn't actually know why you were taking the medication—only that you'd been struggling with swallowing and breathing. He was there when you went to get it checked out, and he had shrieked so loudly at the doctor's office upon seeing the bruises on your throat that security almost got called. You had to practically beg them not to report it as abuse.

Jay's gaze flickered toward you, watching how stiff you had gotten, your fingers curling around the edge of the table. Suspicious.

His patience was already hanging by a thread, and every group meeting was making it worse. Every single time, Jake would sit beside you, smiling, asking about your day, treating you like nothing had changed. And you would talk to him in the same soft tone, laughing lightly, joking, as if things were perfectly fine.

But when it came to Jay, you barely even looked at him.

Jay's hands curled into fists under the table. Did you really like Jake that much?

"Just take the damn pill and let's finish this," he muttered, looking away.

Sunoo clicked his tongue, clearly still pissed, but you sighed. Grabbing the medicine, you tossed it back with a sip of water, trying not to feel like you were swallowing more than just the pill.

Sunoo huffed dramatically, slumping back in his chair, arms crossed as he blew his bangs out of his face. Then, in a whisper just loud enough for you to hear, he muttered, "God, he's so sour."

You nearly choked on your water, barely managing to swallow before coughing into your sleeve. Meanwhile, across the table, Jay's eye twitched, his fingers pausing mid-typing.

Yeah, he definitely heard that.

"I did not study Psychology to be dealing with people like him. I swear, I don't get it! His boyfriend, Jake, is an actual sunshine. How the hell did he end up with someone like that? He's such an asshole—I want to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze."

Sunoo groans dramatically, throwing his hands in the air like he's physically choking someone.

You snort, patting his back in an attempt to soothe him. "Easy there, I don't think murder is part of the syllabus."

"I know he's serious about his work, but I didn't expect him to be this much of a dick about it! What's his problem?" Sunoo huffs, his fists clenching. "Do you want me to go back there and punch him? Because I will. Gladly."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "I don't think that'll help."

Sunoo lets out another exaggerated sigh, slumping against the bench you're both sitting on. "This is exactly why I hate men."

"You do realize he's gay, right?" You whisper, rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles.

Sunoo glares at you, eyes narrowing. "And? He's still a man! God!" He throws his head back dramatically. "Why are they all like this? Why can't they just be normal and not emotionally constipated?"

You chuckle, resting your chin on your palm. "You're so worked up about this."

"I am worked up! I don't like seeing my best friend treated like trash. That's my job!" Sunoo pokes your forehead lightly. "Not some grumpy, brooding asshole with control issues."

You sigh, offering a small smile as you murmur something to calm him down. He huffs but eventually lets it go, leaning back with his arms crossed.

It had been a week since everything happened. And to your credit, you were doing a great job avoiding them—or, well, avoiding Jay.

Jake was different. Jake was nice. He kept talking to you, his usual warmth never faltering. Always so soft, always so considerate. It was hard keeping your distance when he was so genuinely kind to you.

Unlike Jay, Jake never gave you a reason to feel unwanted. He'd ask if his proximity made you uncomfortable, if you'd eaten, how you were feeling. But somehow, despite everything, he never brought up that night again. Not once did he mention the sex, didn't push for another time, didn't make any suggestive comments.

You weren't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Well, Jay... that was a different story entirely. You couldn't afford to talk to him. Couldn't even look at him. His attitude, his gaze, the way he seemed to burn with irritation every time you were anywhere near—it made everything so much harder.

You were convinced at this point. Park Jongseong hated you. And somehow, Jake had no idea.

And yet, you still wanted him. Both of them, It was pathetic.

No matter how much he glared, no matter how cold he acted, your body still reacted to him. Your mind still wandered into dangerous places, imagining things.

Like the way his hands would feel pinning you down, his fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you from behind—frustrated, rough, using you to work out whatever twisted anger he had toward you.

Or maybe Jake would be there, slipping underneath, his soft mouth on your clit while Jay kept you spread open for him. His tongue moving in slow, teasing circles, coaxing you to the edge while Jay's cock filled you.

You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but your thighs clenched instinctively.

God, you were so pathetic. Back to being the desperate girl thirsting over men who weren't even yours to begin with.

It would never happen again. You repeated it in your head.

Another week passed, and you finally ditched the turtlenecks. The bruises were still there, faint shadows against your skin, but barely noticeable unless someone really looked which you doubted anyone would.

"I swear, after midterms, I'm going to sleep for a full twenty-four hours," you muttered, scrolling through your research on your iPad. Your pen skimmed across the screen, underlining sections that needed revision.

"I just want to treat myself," Sunoo sighed, resting his chin on his palm. "Maybe a red velvet cake or something."

You hummed, mimicking his pose, eyes distant as you both fell into a much-needed daydream. "I wanna try the matcha strawberry drink from that new café at the Avenue. This week has been so draining." You sighed, letting your shoulders slump. "I'm also craving marshmallows, but honestly? I don't even think I deserve them."

Across the table, Jay huffed—that sharp, irritated sound you'd grown far too familiar with. You didn't even need to look up to know he was watching, that signature glare aimed straight at you and Sunoo.

"Can you focus?" His voice ruined your lighthearted moment. "We're almost done. Stop wasting time."

You quickly dropped your gaze back to your iPad, pretending to be engrossed in your notes. But your fingers fidgeted with the stylus. Sunoo, made a loud show of flipping open his book, rolling his eyes so hard.

"God, you're so uptight," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Jay to hear.

Not long after, Jake appeared, all warmth and sunshine, his smile instantly making the mood lighter. "Hey," he greeted, his voice soft as he glanced at you before nodding at Sunoo.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up—straightening a little, fingers brushing over your hair, smoothing down your uniform. It wasn't intentional, but Jay noticed. His grip on his pen tightened just slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Are you finished?" Jake murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Jay's temple before settling beside him.

Jay hummed in response, not looking up, but his hand instinctively brushed around Jake's waist, a small acknowledgment of his presence.

Sunoo gagged dramatically, clutching his chest like he was in physical pain. "Jesus Christ, not in front of us, please," he groaned, rubbing his arms like the display of affection had given him hives.

Jake just laughed, completely unbothered. "What? You don't like a little affection?"

"I like affection," Sunoo huffed, flipping a page with unnecessary force. "I don't like seeing gay love flaunted in front of me, knowing I'm single and trying to work."

Jake smirked, leaning further into Jay just to be annoying, kissing his cheek. "Hmm, okay," he said simply.

You chuckled at their antics, but the laughter caught in your throat the moment your eyes met his. Your breath hitched slightly, and you quickly looked away, suddenly hyper-aware of how comfortable you were around Jake compared to the awkward tension that always came with Jay.

Geez, you can't even be happy in front of him.

Jake knew himself well enough to admit that sometimes he could be too pushy when he wanted something. But he wasn't insensitive. He noticed things, especially when it came to the people he cared about.

And lately, he'd been noticing a lot. Jay's behavior toward you wasn't just cold—it was rough. The sharp glances, the clipped tone, the way his patience seemed to wear thinner whenever you were around. At first, Jake thought it was just Jay being Jay, the brooding, possessive, easily annoyed. But the longer it went on, the more it started to feel different.

That was why Jake had been careful. He didn't push too hard. He avoided bringing you up in conversations with Jay, kept his interactions with you light, casual. But he couldn't completely ignore you. Not when he'd noticed the way your breath sometimes slowed, how you would press your fingers against your throat absentmindedly, as if checking for something. Not the time when you still wore high-collared tops long after the bruises should've faded. He knew Jay had left those marks. And he knew, deep down, Jay knew that, too.

Jake couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Did Jay regret what happened? Was he jealous of you? Jake knew how possessive Jay could be, how he had always been the type to express his emotions through actions rather than words. Maybe Jake should've just let it go. Maybe he should've left you alone for the sake of Jay's peace of mind. But every time he thought about it, something in his gut told him that wasn't the answer.

"Fuck—just like that," Jay groaned, fingers tightening in his hair, hips snapping forward, chasing more of that heat, more of that wet, perfect warmth.

Jake hummed, taking him deeper, his throat swallowing around him. Jay shuddered, his thighs trembling slightly.

Jay's mind was a wreck — being in the same group as you? Tolerable. Jay was starting to tolerate you. But that didn't mean he didn't hate you. God—he hated you.

His grip tightened in Jake's hair, frustration bubbling over as he fucked into his boyfriend's mouth with more force, each thrust carrying a weight he couldn't put into words. Jake moaned around him, wide eyes flicking up, locking onto his as he bobbed his head, matching his rhythm perfectly.

Jake looked so fucking beautiful like this.

Jay let out a shaky breath, head tipping back for a moment before his thoughts dragged him back to you.

Why the fuck do you keep looking at Jake like that? Why do you always pull away when he walks in? Why does your smile always falter the moment he gets near?

You were so soft with everyone else—laughing, chatting, existing like a normal person. But with him? It was different.

Your shoulders tensed. Your voice lowered. You avoided him, even in small things—passing papers, choosing seats, glancing his way. Even when you had to sit next to him, you made yourself small. So close, yet always so far away.

He shouldn't care. He fucking hated you. So why did it feel like he was losing his mind over this?

"Jake—" his voice was strained, stomach tightening, his body wound so tight. "I'm close."

Jake hummed in response, vibrations sending pleasure through him. His boyfriend was eager, tongue swirling around his shaft, making his legs tremble.

Jay's jaw clenched, his whole body coiling as his release built up.

And then—your face flashed through his mind. The way you walked into the lecture hall, pretending you didn't see him. The way you laughed at something Sunoo said, your shoulders relaxing the second you thought Jay wasn't watching.

Jay was always watching, he was always looking at you. And you never looked at him.

Look at me, his mind screamed every time. Just fucking look at me. But you never did.

His orgasm ripped through him, his whole body shaking, his head tipping back as his eyes rolled, a loud whine tearing from his throat.

He whispered your name. His hips stuttered, mindlessly thrusting into Jake's mouth, the echo of your name slipping past his lips, again and again.

Jake pulled off, gasping for air, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His brows furrowed slightly, staring at Jay with confusion before chuckling.

"Did you just—"

Jay collapsed back against the couch, breathless, his arm thrown over his face, chest rising and falling heavily. Jake's fingers glided up his stomach, watching him closely.

And even now—Even after coming. Your name was still on Jay's lips.

That made Jake's cock twitch. He liked this. He liked Jay this way—angry, possessive, completely in denial.

A slow smirk curled Jake's lips as he leaned back against the couch, eyes lidded as he reached for his zipper. The sound of it unzipping filled the air, followed by the rustle of fabric as he tugged his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself.

His fingers wrapped around his cock, dragging along the length, thumb circling the slit as he collected the precum beading at the tip.

Jay watched him, He didn't say anything, didn't move—but Jake saw it. The way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. The way his fingers twitched at his sides. The way his gaze lingered.

Jake let out a soft gasp, biting his lip before stroking himself faster. "Let's fuck her again," he murmured, His eyes flickered up, locking onto Jay's dark stare. "Shall we?"

Jay stirred, shifting slightly.

Jake hummed, his pace quickening. "I want to do more things with her," he moaned, hips stuttering into his own grip. "Thought you hated her, thought you wanted nothing to do with her, but—fuck—" he inhaled sharply, smirking through his pleasure. "You're just denying things, huh?"

Jay's cock twitched.

"You make things so fucking difficult," Jake moaned, tilting his head back, his free hand dragging up his stomach. "If you weren't so prideful, we'd already have her between us again."

Jay inhaled sharply through his nose, his control slipping. He moved before he could stop himself—grabbing Jake's wrist, ripping his hand away from his cock.

Jake gasped, pleasure cut off instantly as Jay loomed over him, eyes burning. "Shut the fuck up," Jay growled, his grip tight. His other hand snapped to Jake's thigh, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Jake's lips parted, his breath shaky—but then he grinned again, riling him further.

"You're so full of shit, baby," Jake moaned. "Acting like you hate her, when really, you just wanna ruin her."

He shifted under Jay's hold, spreading his thighs slightly, giving him more of a view. "Come on, just admit it," he murmured, his voice teasing, breathless. "You liked fucking her. You liked the way she fell apart under you—how desperate she was, how much she wanted it."

Jay's breath hitched, nostrils flaring. Jake leaned in closer, lips brushing against his jaw, voice dropping to a whisper. "And now, you can't stop thinking about her, can you?"

Jay's fingers twitched, feeling the rush of heat.

"You wanna know if she thinks about it, too?" Jake continued, his free hand sliding up Jay's chest, fingers tracing over the fabric of his shirt. "If she touches herself to the memory of you?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Jay snapped. He grabbed Jake roughly, flipping him over onto his stomach before yanking his hips up, positioning himself at his ass. Using his own cum from earlier as lubrication, he pushed inside in one rough thrust.

Jake gasped, his mouth falling open in a silent moan before it turned into a loud, wanton cry. His fingers clawed at the couch, his back arching. "Fucking yes—"

Jay didn't wait, didn't give him time to adjust. He fucked into him—deep, brutal thrusts, each one fueled by the mess in his head, the tangled thoughts that refused to leave him alone.

"Fuck," Jay gritted out, his hands gripping Jake's waist hard enough to bruise. His pace was relentless, hips snapping forward with enough force to shove Jake up. "You think I give a shit about what she does?"

Jake moaned, back curving further as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, meeting Jay's thrusts. "I think you do," he panted, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips despite the way his body trembled from the rough pace. "I think you care—I think you hate that you care."

Jay growled, his fingers tangling in Jake's hair, yanking his head back roughly. "Shut. The fuck. Up."

Jake only moaned louder, his own cock leaking against the rough fabric of the couch. "That's right, baby," he gasped, voice breaking from pleasure. "Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Imagine her in my place—imagine that tight little pussy wrapped around your cock instead—"

Jay let out a loud, guttural groan, his pace turning frantic. His mind flashed to you—flashed to the way you bit your lip when you were nervous, the way your breath hitched when Jake touched you, the way your thighs clenched together when you thought no one was watching.

"Fuck, Jay!" Jake cried out when Jay angled his hips, slamming into his prostate repeatedly. His body trembled, fingers fisting at nothing, lost in the brutal rhythm. "God—yes! Just like that—faster—"

Jay's grip tightened. His vision blurred, thoughts colliding into each other, overwhelming him. Your lips. Your moans. The way your walls clenched around his fingers

His frustration boiled over. His jealousy. His confusion. His anger. And still, your name slipped from his lips.

Jake smirked despite the overwhelming pleasure wrecking his body. His teasing voice was broken between moans. "Fuck, Jay—do you want her?" His breath hitched when Jay thrust harder, his whole body shaking. "Are you gonna take her again? Ruin her—make her fucking yours?"

Jay groaned, his fingers bruising into Jake's skin. His answer came through gritted teeth.

"Fucking yes."

You plopped back into your seat, setting your tumbler down with a sigh, when your eyes landed on the unexpected sight in front of you.

A pack of marshmallows sat right on top of your notes, neatly placed beside your scattered belongings. Brows furrowing, you picked it up, turning it over in your hands. "Huh? Where did this come from?"

Jay barely spared you a glance, fingers typing away on his laptop. "That's been there since before you left to refill your water."

You blinked, confused. "What? No way."

"You got a goldfish brain or something?" Jay's brow twitched in irritation. "God, stop disturbing me."

You scowled at his attitude but chose to ignore it, more focused on the marshmallows that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Sunoo plopped down beside you, a cup of mint ice cream in hand. His spoon clinked against the container as he scooped a bite into his mouth.

"Hey, Sunoo." You turned to him, still holding up the marshmallow pack. "Did I buy these?"

Sunoo tilted his head, squinting as if trying to recall. "Uh... maybe? You did say you were craving marshmallows." He shrugged.

You frowned, glancing back at the pack before shaking your head. "Weird. I don't remember buying them."

"Maybe you did and just forgot. You've been drowning in schoolwork lately." Sunoo licked his spoon, then smirked. "Or maybe you've got a secret admirer."

You snorted, tearing open the pack. "Doubt it." Jay's typing faltered for half a second, but he quickly resumed. Shrugging off the thought, you popped a marshmallow into your mouth, savoring the soft, sugary texture.

"Either way, free marshmallows," you mumbled, offering the bag to Sunoo.

Sunoo happily grabbed one, humming in satisfaction. You turned to Jay, nudging the bag toward him, but he barely glanced up from his laptop. Instead, he waved you off with a dismissive shrug.

Typical. You didn't push, rolling your eyes as you stuffed another marshmallow into your mouth.

The following meetings were okay. No unnecessary arguments, no tension that made you want to shrink into yourself. Things were flowing smoothly.

Except, you started noticing something. Jake was around more often. He claimed it was because he preferred working on his research alongside his boyfriend, but Sunoo had made a dramatic gagging sound the moment Jake sat down, whispering, "Yeah, sure. Totally research-related."

Jake also seemed to be getting... casual with you. Too casual. His hand would rest on your thigh, just sitting, his fingers sometimes absentmindedly rubbing up and down. Or he'd casually hook his arm through yours while walking. You didn't really think much of it. Sunoo did the exact same thing. And, well, Jake was Jake—affectionate, playful, and friendly. You were comfortable with him. It felt natural.

Jay, on the other hand... His behavior was still sour. Or at least, that's what you'd call it if he actually interacted with you at all. He wasn't glaring anymore—not as much, anyway. But he also wasn't looking at you. At all. Not once. He'd walk behind you while you, Jake, and Sunoo chatted and laughed about whatever nonsense came to mind, Jay was always completely silent. Always present but never engaging.

"What the hell?!" Sunoo practically screeched, pointing an accusing finger at you and Jake. His face was twisted in pure betrayal. "I knew you two were fishy! Fucking traitors!"

You and Jake burst into laughter, barely holding onto your phones as you clutched your stomachs. The screen in your hands displayed 'Impostor Wins' in bold letters.

Jake was shaking with suppressed laughter, his head buried against your shoulder as his body trembled with the effort not to be too loud. Meanwhile, Sunoo sat there fuming, eyes narrowed in frustration as he dramatically crossed his arms.

"I trusted you," Sunoo huffed, glaring at Jake. "You were my partner! And you—" He turned to you, jabbing a finger in your direction. "You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I'm sorry!" you wheezed, wiping a tear from your eye. "It was too easy! You fell for it!"

"Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head.

Jay, who had been slumped over the table, twitched at the sudden noise, lifting his head slightly to glance at the three of you. He looked exhausted, his jaw tightening slightly as he took in the way Jake was still pressed against you, his head resting against your shoulder, hand resting a little too comfortably on your thigh.

"Okay, okay, rematch?" you offered, nudging Sunoo with your foot. Sunoo huffed. "I'm not playing with you two anymore. I need new allies."

Jake grinned, finally lifting his head from your shoulder, his hand lazily tapping at his phone screen. "Come on, don't be like that, Sunoo. It's just a game."

"A game?" Sunoo repeated, looking personally offended. "I died for you. I defended you! I saw you kill someone, and I still voted for someone else!"

You and Jake exchanged amused glances before dissolving into laughter again. Jay slammed his laptop shut. The sound was loud enough to startle all three of you, making your heads snap toward him.

"I'm leaving." He said.

You stared at him, blinking in confusion. "Huh?"

Jake straightened up, his playful expression fading slightly. "You okay, babe?"

Jay didn't answer. Instead, he stood up abruptly, slinging his bag over his shoulder before shoving his chair back into place with more force than necessary.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, swallowing. "Uh... I thought we were gonna—"

"I want to sleep," Jay cut you off, his tone cold. His eyes flickered to you briefly, before looking away just as fast. And just like that, he walked out without another word.

The three of you exchanged glances, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Then, Jake sighed, standing up as well. "I'll go talk to him."

"Here we go again," Sunoo muttered under his breath, popping another piece of candy into his mouth.

You wrinkled your nose at him, nudging his leg under the table. "Shut up."

Sunoo smirked, nudging you back. "What? It's entertaining. "

You huffed, slumping back in your chair.

You told yourself over and over again that it wasn't your fault. That Jay's jealousy—because at this point, you were convinced that's what it was—was his own issue. Not yours.

But it was getting harder to ignore when Jake was pressed behind you, arms wrapped securely around your waist, his chest flush against your back. When he was nuzzling into the crook of your neck, murmuring things that weren't even remotely suggestive, but the warmth of his breath against your skin made your knees weak anyway.

And it was impossible to ignore when Jay was sitting right across from you, staring. You felt like a pawn in whatever unspoken battle Jay was having with himself.

Sunoo was oblivious—or maybe just used to this—was too busy fixing his makeup to acknowledge the suffocating tension in the air.

Jake would whisper little things in your ear, casual gossip, things that should not have been turning you on, but the way his lips brushed against your skin with every word sent sparks through your core.

You wanted Jay to do something about it.

You knew he hated you. But deep down, you still hoped—prayed—that whatever this was, whatever anger or frustration he was harboring, he would take it out on you.

That he would grab you by the waist and shove you into the nearest surface. That he would bruise you all over again, mark you up until you belonged to him. That he would shove his cock down your throat, just like last time, ignoring the way you gasped for air, not caring if you were still recovering. Fuck the doctors prescription.

God knows you wanted it. Every night, you would find yourself alone, your fingers curling between your thighs, biting down on your lip to stop from moaning their names. Jake, with his sweet kisses and lingering touches. Jay, with his rough hands and punishing pace.

Would they ever ask again? Would Jake pull you into his lap, whispering in your ear that they missed you? Would Jay finally snap, throw you onto the bed, and take you? Even though you don't deserve it?

You imagined them ruining you, stretching you out together, stuffing you full until there was nothing left of you but the sound of your own choked moans.

Or Jay filling you up, his cum dripping down your thighs. Jake licking it up, kissing your swollen clit before shoving his cock into you next.

"Shit—fuck!" you gasped, thighs clenching around your hand as your mini vibrator sent sharp pulses straight to your core. Your body arched violently off the mattress, hips trembling as waves of pleasure surged through you.

Your back hit the sheets again, your head tilting back as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Every muscle in your body tensed, heat coiling tightly in your abdomen before snapping all at once.

"Thank you—thank you," you moaned breathlessly, tossing the vibrator aside, but your fingers didn't stop. Desperation clawed at your skin as you rubbed tight, insistent circles over your clit, the oversensitivity making your entire body jolt.

Your legs spasmed, toes curling as cold sweat slicked your skin. The tension didn't ease, it only built higher, higher, until suddenly their faces flashed behind your closed eyes.

Jake, whispering filth into your ear, his hands gripping your thighs as he kissed his way down.

Jay, pinning you in place, his fingers tight around your throat, his breath warm against your lips as he growled in your ear.

The image alone sent you spiraling.

Your hips twitched, grinding against your own fingers, chasing more, needing more. You whined, the sound escaping without your permission as your body trembled violently.

"Oh—fuck! Fuck! Ahh!"

Your release hit again, crashing into you, your entire body shuddering as liquid gushed from between your legs, soaking the sheets beneath you. Your thighs clamped shut, your fingers stalling against your clit as the aftershocks rolled through you.

Your chest heaved, your heartbeat erratic, the high still pulsing through your veins. You lay there, boneless, ruined, your sheets damp, your body twitching with every lingering spark of pleasure.

The only sound in the room was your heavy breathing and the faint, continuous buzzing of the forgotten vibrator beside you.

You sigh, staring at the ceiling. Post orgasm crashing into you. Frustration suddenly kicking in.

Frustrated because nothing seemed to satisfy you. Frustrated because no matter what you did—you couldn't forget them.

Frustrated because... God help you. You wanted it to happen again.

"How do you initiate sex?" You blurted out, glancing at Sunoo, who was casually fixing his hair in his compact mirror. "Like... how do you tell them you want to do it again?"

Sunoo froze, his reflection staring back at him before he slowly turned to you, eyes squinting in pure offense. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

You frowned. "Who else am I supposed to ask?"

He huffed, snapping his mirror shut. "Babe, first of all, I don't do seconds. If I hit once, it's a one-time event. No reruns." He gave you a pointed look. "But if you're desperate—which, let's be honest, you are—just text them 'hey, dtf?'"

You groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. "No! It's—ugh!" You covered your face, muffling another groan. "Nevermind! Fuck!" You give up as you threw your hands up in defeat.

"Hey!"

You jumped slightly at the sudden voice, turning to see Jake standing behind you, his usual bright smile on his face.

Before you could say anything, he reached out and ruffled Sunoo's hair, only to get a sharp slap on the back in response. Jake laughed but winced at the impact, rubbing the spot where Sunoo had hit him.

"Huh? Where's Jay?" You asked, glancing behind him, trying to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend.

"Studying," Jake replied with a shrug. Sitting beside you, settling himself in the ground.

"What?! Midterms just ended!" Sunoo huffed, crossing his arms. "Force your boyfriend to take a break! We were planning to get caramel macchiatos with you guys." He muttered, still fussing over his hair that Jake had messed up.

Jake chuckled. "I'd love to, but you know Jay. He's—"

"Anyways, Jake, how do you initiate sex?" Sunoo cut him off, completely changing the topic.

Your eyes widened in horror. "Sunoo!" You hissed, tugging on his arm, but he only grinned mischievously.

Jake blinked, tilting his head in confusion. "Uh... what?"

"She was asking me earlier," Sunoo continued, completely throwing you under the bus. "How to tell someone she wants to do it again."

Jake's mouth fell open slightly, then a slow smirk spread across his lips. His eyes glinted with amusement as he turned to you.

Your grip on Sunoo tightened, your face heating up instantly. "I wasn't—I didn't—" You shook your head frantically, staring at Jake in sheer embarrassment. "Ignore him!"

Jake's smirk deepened, but he played it cool,  "Oh? And who exactly are we talking about here?"

Your heart nearly stopped. The way his eyes glinted with mischief, the way his lips curled slightly at the edges—he knew. Oh, he fucking knew exactly what Sunoo was referring to. But he was pretending not to.

Sunoo hummed thoughtfully. "Good question! She won't tell me either. Probably some random guy who dicked her down so good she wants seconds."

You choked on your own breath. "Sunoo!"

Jake snorted, biting back a laugh, but his gaze never left you. "Hmm," he mused, tapping his chin dramatically. "Well, if I had to give some advice..." He trailed off, his eyes flickering with amusement as he watched you squirm.

You shot him a warning glare, silently pleading for him to drop it.

He didn't. "I'd say just be straightforward," Jake continued, completely ignoring your flustered expression. "Just shoot them a text, something like, 'Hey, I can't stop thinking about that night. Wanna make it happen again?'" He shrugged. "Easy."

Sunoo nodded in agreement. "See? That's what I told her! But nooo, she wants to overthink it."

You groaned, pressing your hands against your burning face. "I hate both of you."

Jake chuckled, leaning closer, his voice dropping just slightly. "So... is this mystery guy really that good?"

Your breath caught, eyes snapping up to meet his. There was teasing in his tone.  He was fucking with you.

Sunoo rolled his eyes. "Obviously, if she's still thinking about him. Poor girl's down bad."

Jake hummed, tilting his head. "Yeah... must've been one hell of a night."

Thankfully, the topic shifted. Sunoo, being Sunoo, effortlessly steered the conversation toward food and cafés, but by the time 2:00 rolled around, Sunoo stretched his arms with a dramatic sigh. "Alright, I'm out. Gotta visit Wonyoung before she thinks I've abandoned her."

You barely had time to nod before he turned to you with a knowing smirk. "Thank me later."

Your stomach dropped. The realization hit you, before you could stop him, Sunoo was already strutting away, leaving you alone. With Jake.

You were too close to Jake, yet somehow, it still wasn't enough. Your throat felt tight, your heart hammering in your chest as you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his presence.

"I—uh," you started, your voice barely steady, "d-don't mind what Sunoo said—"

Jake didn't even let you finish. "I've been waiting for the perfect moment to ask you myself," he cut in smoothly.

Your eyes snapping to his. There was something about the way he spoke, like he already knew what you wanted—like he could see right through you.

"Ask me what?" You hated how weak your voice sounded, how your throat felt suddenly dry.

Jake leaned in just slightly, enough for you to catch the faintest scent of his cologne. His gaze never wavered. "If you want to do it again."

Your stomach twisted, heat pooling low in your abdomen at the way he said it. His presence was overwhelming, and it took everything in you to stay still, to not shrink away from the intensity in his eyes.

"I'm not a natural talker," he admitted, his fingers brushing against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm not straightforward like Jay. But thank God for making things flow naturally my way." His lips curled into a small smirk, and before you could prepare yourself, he asked, "Did you miss us?"

Your pulse pounded. You shouldn't say it. You should make this harder for him, play coy, pretend you hadn't been thinking about them every damn night, imagining their hands, their mouths. But instead, the word slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

"Yes," you whispered.

Jake hummed, clearly pleased, but before he could say anything else, you hesitated. A weight sat heavy in your chest. "But Jay—" you paused, unsure how to phrase it without sounding pathetic. "Jay hates me."

Jake chuckled, shaking his head as if the idea itself was ridiculous. "Jay definitely does not hate you."

You frowned. "Then why—"

"He's just jealous." Jake cut you off, your heart stuttered. The idea was so absurd that it took a second to process.

"Jealous?" Your brows furrowed. "Of me?"

Jake's grin widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath fanning against your ear. "Of me."

Your breath caught, your mind struggling to keep up with what he was saying.

"He's jealous of me, baby," Jake murmured, his fingers tracing lightly against the inside of your wrist, his touch barely there, teasing but it makes your pulse jumped under his fingertips.

"Because I get to hug you," he continued, voice velvety smooth, almost hypnotic. "I get to nuzzle my head into your neck. I get your attention."

You exhaled sharply, your body tensing. The way he said it, like it was a privilege—like it was something Jay wanted.

Jake tilted his head, watching you carefully, eyes flickering with amusement. "Tell me," he whispered, his lips hovering just over your skin, "do you miss him too?"

He was toying with you, but damn it, it was working. You knew the answer before he even asked, but saying it out loud was dangerous. That was admitting to something you weren't sure you could handle.

Jake's fingers brushed against your wrist again, featherlight, teasing. He was waiting, watching for your reaction.

You swallowed, throat tight. "I—"

Jake smirked, sensing your hesitation. "You do, don't you?" You hated how easily he read you. How he knew exactly what buttons to press, exactly how to get under your skin.

You exhaled shakily, hands curling into fists on your lap. "If Jay's so jealous, then why does he act like he can't stand me?"

Jake hummed, considering. "Because Jay is a fucking idiot."

You blinked. "What?"

Jake leaned back slightly, arms crossing as he grinned at you. "He's stubborn. Prideful. And he's fighting something he doesn't want to admit."

You frowned, confused. "Fighting what?"

Jake tilted his head, studying you like you were missing something obvious. "You."

Your chest tightened. "Me?"

"You," Jake confirmed, grin widening. "He's pissed because he wants you. And because he doesn't know how to handle it, he's pushing you away instead."

Your stomach flipped. You had convinced yourself Jay hated you, that he regretted everything that happened. But now?

"You're lying." Your voice was weak, but you needed to say it. You needed to convince yourself that Jake was just messing with you.

Jake only chuckled. "Am I?"

You swallowed again, looking away, but Jake wasn't having it. He reached out, his fingers catching your chin, guiding your gaze back to his.

"Let me prove it to you," he murmured.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Prove it how?"

Jake smirked, his thumb brushing against your jaw. His next words sent a shiver straight down your spine.

"Let's give him something to be jealous about."

Desperation clouded every thought in your head, everything around you blurring into the background.

You barely remembered how you ended up stumbling into Jay's apartment, your lips locked feverishly with Jake's, hands grasping at each other like. Jay was out doing groceries. You had no idea when he'd be back. And maybe that was what made this so much hotter.

Anticipation coiled in your stomach, excitement tangled with nervous energy. How would Jay react if he walked in on this? Would he be pissed? The mere thought had heat pooling between your thighs, your panties dampening with want.

"Miss you," Jake whined against your lips, arms tightening around your waist. His movements were rushed, needy—like he'd been waiting for this, craving it just as much as you had. His lips parted against yours, the kiss turning sloppy, hot, all tongue and teeth as the two of you stumbled deeper into the apartment.

Neither of you cared to be careful. Jake kicked off his shoes with barely a thought, his fingers already fumbling with the buttons of your uniform blouse, eager to rid you of the fabric. You let him, hands curling around the back of his neck, tugging him down, pressing yourself against him.

Your back hit the couch, Jake's weight pressing into you, his hands tugging impatiently at your uniform. Your breath hitched as his fingers found the last button, parting the fabric to reveal the warmth of your skin. He groaned softly, dipping his head, his lips trailing down the side of your neck, sucking, licking, tasting.

Jake's lips hovered just over yours, teasing, making you chase him. His fingers trailed lower, ghosting over your ribs just enough to make your skin prickle with more anticipation.

"Remember what I told you?" He tilted his head, pressing a quick, featherlight kiss against your lips. But before you could answer, his fingers danced over your bra, fingertips teasing at the fabric, grazing over your already sensitive nipples. The sensation made you shiver, your back arching involuntarily, pressing your chest further into his touch.

A quiet whimper slipping from your lips, and Jake hummed approvingly. "Hey, baby, I asked you a question." Without warning, he tugged your bra down just enough to pinch your nipple between his fingers, rolling it between his fingertips, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure.

"Yes!" you gasped, your hands flying to wrap around his wrist, not to stop him—but to urge him for more. "Please!" Your body was burning with need, aching for him, for anything he'd give you.

Jake chuckled, his breath warm against your lips. "That's my girl," he murmured, before leaning down again, capturing your lips in another deep kiss. His tongue slid past your lips effortlessly, moving against yours.

You clung to him, fingers curling around the fabric of his uniform, tugging at it, silently begging him to take it off. He straightened, exhaling a sharp breath as he worked through each button, fumbling slightly when you kissed his neck, sucking gently at the skin just below his jaw.

"Ahh, fuck," he groaned, his breath hitching as you nipped lightly at his pulse point.

Taking advantage of the moment, you reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra, letting it slide down your arms before tossing it aside. The cool air against your bare skin sent another shiver on you, but it was quickly replaced by heat as you hooked your fingers into your skirt, dragging it down along with your underwear.

The second Jake finished undressing, he was on you again, his plump lips crashing into yours with renewed hunger. His hands roamed greedily over your bare skin, mapping out every dip, every curve.

He pressed you further into the couch, one hand slipping between your legs, fingers grazing against your already soaked folds. He groaned at the wetness he found there, pulling back just enough to smirk against your lips.

"Fuck, baby," he murmured, his fingers sliding through your slick, teasing but not giving you what you wanted just yet. "You're dripping for me already."

You whimpered, hips shifting toward his hand, but he pulled away slightly, denying you the friction you needed.

"Patience," he cooed, his lips brushing over your jaw, down your throat, leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses. "Let's take our time with this."

But you didn't want time. You wanted him. Now. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him back up to crash your lips against his in a desperate kiss, your other hand reaching down, curling around his cock, stroking him slowly.

Jake groaned into your mouth, his hips twitching forward into your grip. "Fuck," he muttered, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. "You're gonna be the death of me."

And with that, he finally gave in, slipping a finger inside you, curling it just right, drawing a moan from your lips.

The two of you had long lost track of time, lost in the haze of pleasure, in the desperate push and pull of each other's bodies.

You didn't know how many times Jake had sunk himself deep inside you, how many times he had come, or how many times he had dragged another orgasm from your overstimulated body.

You were both drunk on each other—on the way his hands molded your body to fit against him, on the way your walls clenched around him so perfectly.

Your legs were pressed close to your chest, folded as Jake held you up, his arms wrapped under your thighs, supporting your weight as he thrust up into you. Your back arched against his chest, your head thrown back over his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as you let him take you.

"I-I can't! I'm cumming again!" You cry.

Jake's whines mixed with your cries, his lips dragging over your neck, pressing soft gentle kisses. His pace quickened, each thrust are harder. Your toes curled, your nails digging into his arms, unable to do anything but take what he gave you.

You were lost, drowning in the sensation, in the heat, in him, until his fingers tangled into your hair, yanking just enough to make your eyes snap open.

You gasped, your walls clenching involuntarily around him at the sudden shift, earning a deep groan from his throat. Your dazed mind barely had time to process what was happening before your blurry vision sharpened—and landed on the figure standing in the doorway.

"Hah! Nghh, fuck! J-Jake!"

Jay was standing in front of you, motionless, his hands clenched at his sides, eyes locked onto the scene before him.

"Oh," Jake exhaled, breathless despite the way his thrusts never faltered. He smirked, leaning in just beside your ear, loud enough for Jay to hear. "Look who finally showed up."

Panic surged through you, heat creeping up your neck. Instinctively wanting to cover yourself, but Jake's grip on your thighs tightened, he instead separate your legs,wide open for Jay to see.

The obscene view of where Jake's cock was buried deep inside you—slick, glistening, your walls clenching around him with every drag of his hips.

You gasped, squirming under Jake's hold, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Jake!" you whined, the desperate plea slipping from your lips. You knew exactly what he was doing, what game he was playing. But seeing Jay right in front of you made you feel too exposed.

"What the hell, Jake?" Jay gaze flickered between the two of you, his lips parting slightly as if struggling to find the right words. His nostrils flared, his breath uneven despite his stillness. "We were supposed to take things slow with her. That's what we agreed on."

Jake only chuckled, his amusement evident. Instead of slowing down, he snapped his hips harder, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls in a way that made your body jolt under him, your breasts bouncing with the impact. A sinful moan tore from your throat, your head falling back against his shoulder again.

"Surprise," Jake murmured, his smirk widening.

The word sent a shiver down your spine, a sharp flashback hitting you—the first time this happened, the way you had watched them, except now, the roles were reversed.

Jay was the one watching.

His hands twitched at his sides, his jaw locked so tight you thought it might snap. His eyes darkened, tracking every movement, every reaction, every shuddering breath you took.

His gaze dipped lower, settling between your legs, watching the way Jake stretched you open, how greedily your body took him. His Adam's apple bobbed, his breathing getting heavier.

He was pissed. You could tell by the way his fingers flexed, by the tension coiling through his frame.

"Can't blame me," Jake exhaled, groaning at the way your walls clenched around him. "I mean, you were too slow. Kept sending her mixed signals." He nuzzled into your neck, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your pulse, his breath warm against your damp skin. "Poor girl thought you hated her."

Jay's jaw ticked, his lips pressing into a thin line. His fists clenched tighter, the veins in his forearms standing out. He looked like he was on the verge of snapping.

Jake wasn't done. His fingers traced down your stomach, circling teasingly around your clit. He chuckled darkly, his eyes still locked on Jay. "She was too good to be true, Jay."

Jay remained silent, watching the scene you and Jake are making.

Jake smirked. "Did you know she's been taking medicines because you damaged her throat?"

Your breath hitched, eyes widening in panic. "Jake—"

You gripped onto his arms, a silent signal for him to stop, you did tell him that information but you didn't expect him to thrown it out there, in the middle of him fucking you, in the middle of Jay standing there, looking at you like he didn't know if he wanted to drag you into his arms or ruin you completely.

Jay stiffened at the sudden information, his eyes flickering briefly to your throat.

"But still, she wants us," Jake mused, his lips brushing your temple. His thrusts falter but still remain deep. "Still wants you."

Pleasure coiling in your stomach, overwhelming and intoxicating. You were right there, teetering on the edge.

"Jake, I'm close again!" you gasped, your voice trembling.

Jake didn't pull his gaze away from Jay, didn't even blink as he continued rolling his hips into you. His fingers never faltered against your clit, dragging you closer and closer to the brink. But he didn't let you fall—not yet.

"Do you think he deserves you, baby?" Jake asks you, still staring at Jay. You were too far gone, your mind hazy with pleasure, body trembling from the overwhelming sensations Jake was giving you. But even through the haze, you felt the weight of Jay's intense gaze on you.

Your breath hitching as you struggled to form words.

"J-Jay's been mean," you finally managed to stutter, voice shaky, breathless. Your legs twitched as the pleasure kept mounting

Jake hummed in agreement, tilting his head, his expression thoughtful as he slowed his movements, making you whimper in frustration. "Hmm, right?" His lips brushed against your ear. "He's been so mean to you."

You nodded desperately, your mind fogged with pleasure. Every nerve in you was on fire, desperate to finally tip over the edge.

"He should say sorry first, right?" Jake continued, his voice dripping with faux innocence as he looked back at Jay. His fingers on your clit stilled, applying just enough pressure to keep you on the edge but not enough to let you tip over.

Your breath hitched, your body twitching, so needy, so desperate. "Yes—fuck, yes."

"What the fuck?" Jay muttered, dripping with irritation. His patience was hanging by a thread, and Jake knew it.

Jake chuckled and feigned a pout. "Aww, see? Even she agrees. You've been such an asshole to her, Jay. Shouldn't you at least apologize?" His voice was sickeningly sweet, but the way his hips moved against yours, the way he continued to play with you, was anything but innocent.

Jay inhaled sharply, not please with any of this.

"Maybe," Jake drawled, "if you get down on your knees and apologize, she might forgive you."

Jay's nostrils flared. His gaze flickered between you and Jake, his fists tightening. "You're fucking kidding me," he said through gritted teeth.

Jake only grinned, his fingers finally starting to move against your clit again, making you gasp, your back arching into him.

"Not at all," Jake mused. "But, hey, if you don't want her that bad..."

"I guess I'll just keep her all to myself."

You forced your eyes open, looking at Jay—really looking at Jay. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling unevenly. But it was the way his eyes darkened, the way his gaze flickered to where Jake disappeared inside you over and over again,

You whimpered, half-lidded eyes darting down—right to the prominent bulge in his pants. Your mouth went dry. He was hard. So fucking hard.

Jake felt the way your walls clenched tighter, and he groaned, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. "Oh, baby," he cooed, "are you looking at him?"

"J-Ja—" You gasped. You couldn't hold back anymore. The pressure was unbearable, the fire burning through every inch of you. You moaned his name again, this time louder.

Please give in, please give in, please give in.

"Jake's making me feel so good, Jay!"

Jake groaned behind you, his hips snapping faster, chasing his own high. Your whole body convulsed, legs shaking violently as pleasure crashed through you.

A scream ripped from your throat, loud, raw—so much so that Jake had to clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling the sounds as his own breath hitched.

"Fuck," Jake gasped, his rhythm faltering as your walls tightened around him, making it almost impossible to move. He buried himself deep inside you, his breath coming out in ragged pants.

Your vision blurred, your body shaking from the intensity.

But then, you saw Jay, slowly, hesitantly, lowering himself to his knees in front of you.

"Jake," you breathe. You are overstimulated, exhausted, yet somehow—aching for more. The lingering echoes of your orgasm pulsed through your veins, but the sight of Jay kneeling between your legs sent another rush of heat straight to your core.

"That's it, baby," Jake murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction as he pressed soft kisses to your shoulder, his grip on your waist. "Let him see how good you look like this. Let him know who you really want."

A whimper escaped your lips, your body instinctively arching, pushing closer to Jay, despite the sensitivity.

Jay pride had been a stubborn thing, keeping him in denial, making him push you away. But now, as he knelt before you, his fingers flexing as if restraining himself from reaching out—he finally admitted it.

He wanted you.

Jake chuckled lowly, sensing the shift, his hold on you tightening as he spread your legs even wider, exposing every inch of you.

Then, with a teasing hum, Jake pulled out of you, his cock slipping free from your swollen, overstimulated cunt. The sudden emptiness made you whine, your walls fluttering around nothing, aching for the fullness you'd just lost.

"Fuck," Jake groaned, his hands flexing on your thighs. "Look at her, Jay. So fucking pretty like this."

Jay's eyes darkened as they dropped between your legs. His chest rose and fell sharply as he watched—his gaze fixed on the sight of his boyfriend's cum slowly dripping from your pussy, the way your cunt clenched involuntarily, like it was still hungry for more.

"Look at him," Jake whispered, the teasing lilt in his voice sending made you even wetter. "He wants to taste you, baby. Can you see it?"

You swallowed thickly, your fingers gripping onto Jake's arm for support. Your eyes fluttered down, meeting Jay's.

"J-Jay," you finally managed to breathe out.

Jay hands finally moving—gripping your thighs, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh. He leaned in, just close enough for you to feel the ghost of his breath against your still-sensitive skin.

His eyes flickered up, locking onto yours, and, he let you see it.

The gaze of hunger, want, need.

Jake chuckled once again, satisfied. "There you go, baby," he murmured, running his fingers along your stomach, feeling the way your body reacted to Jay's touch. "Now tell him—does he deserve a taste?"

Your breath hitched, heat crawling up your skin. The moment felt surreal—Jay, the man who spent weeks glaring at you, the man who made you feel small with just a look, was now on his knees, waiting.

"M-maybe if he a-apologizes," you stuttered, barely able to get the words out.

Jake chuckled against your neck. "You heard her, Jay," he said as his hand moved to cup your breast, kneading it in slow, deliberate motions. "Apologize."

Jay's jaw clenched, his hands tightening around your thighs as he stared at the two of you. He didn't know what kind of game this was, but fuck—he was getting tired of playing from the sidelines.

"Is your pride really that high?" Jake mused, fingers pinching at your nipple, making you whimper. He kissed the side of your temple, his tone light, teasing. "She said apologize."

Jay hesitated. His pride had always been his downfall, the thing that kept him from saying what needed to be said. But right now, with you trembling before him, with Jake so effortlessly pulling you apart—he knew he had no choice.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, grip tightening on your thighs.

Your breath hitched, the roughness in his voice sending a spark of excitement. Remembering Jake's plan, you frowned, your hands moving on their own, swatting at his hands.

"Not like that," you mumbled, half-lidded eyes peering down at him.

Jake hummed, his lips curling into a smirk as he ran soothing circles on your thigh. "Is that how you apologize?" He tsked, feigning disappointment. "Be sincere, Jay."

Your body leaned further into Jake, nuzzling against his neck. The sight made Jay's eye twitch. His patience was running thin.

"I'm sorry," he tried again, the words heavier this time.

Jake exhaled through his nose, fingers slipping between your folds once more. "She can't hear you," he teased, his tone singsong. His fingers pushed deeper, curling inside you.

Jay gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling inside him. "I said I'm sorry," he repeated, his fingers digging into your thighs.

Jake nipped at your ear, dragging his fingers along your walls at an unbearable pace. Your head lolled to the side, eyes locking onto Jay, pupils blown wide.

"Again," Jake commanded.

Jay exhaled sharply, his nails pressing into your skin. "I'm so sorr—"

Before he could finish, Jake suddenly withdrew his fingers and your hands shot out, gripping Jay's hair, pulling him closer.

Jay barely had time to react before his face was buried between your legs, his nose bumping against your clit.

You gasped, a loud, uncontrollable moan ripping from your throat. Jay stiffened, his hands instinctively gripping your thighs tighter.

"Fuck!" you cried out when you felt Jay's tongue slip inside you, the wet heat sending your mind into a spiral.

Instinctively, your grip on his hair tightened, but his hands kept you in place, stopping you from moving too much.

Jake clicked his tongue at the sight, smirking as he reached down and swatted at Jay's hands, forcing them to let go. He laced his fingers with Jay's instead, squeezing them tight

"Planning to give her more bruises? Is that how you apologize?" Jake teased, watching Jay's brows furrow in frustration.

The moment Jay's hold on you loosened, your body instantly relaxed, and you took advantage of it—hips rolling forward, grinding against his face. Jay let out a muffled grunt, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.

Your mouth fell open, breath coming in shaky gasps. "Are you even sincere, Jongie?" You exhaled, your grip easing slightly on his hair. "Maybe me and Jakey should just go to the bedroom and leave you out here all alone..."

Jay's response was immediate, his head shook fervently, tongue angling to flick against your clit before dragging down your folds.

Jake hummed in satisfaction, his fingers tightening around Jay's as he grinded his half-hard cock against your back. "Say sorry to her again," he commanded.

Jay shot him a glare, frustration evident in the sharpness of his gaze. How the fuck was he supposed to apologize when you kept grinding your cunt against his face, making it harder to focus? The constant brush of his nose against your clit, the way your slick coated his lips, the way your hips moved to chase your own pleasure.

He barely had room to breathe, but instead of pulling away, he let his tongue flatten, licking a long, slow stripe up your slit, tasting the mix of you and his boyfriend's fluid.

Jake let out a small chuckle at Jay's obvious struggle. "Come on, baby," he crooned, pressing a teasing kiss against the shell of your ear. "Make him say it properly."

You smile, just barely, though your voice trembled as you spoke. "Apologize, Park Jongseong."

Jay groaned, his entire face tensing before he finally gave in.

"I'm sorry," he gritted out against your cunt, the sound of his muffled desperate voice, combined with the way his mouth moved against you, made your legs tremble.

A choked moan escaped you as your fingers tangled deeper into his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

"I'm close again," you whined, breath hitching as another wave of pleasure built inside you.

Jake hummed, thoughtful, his grip tightening around Jay's hand as he whispered, "Think you can take another one, baby?"

Through the haze of your arousal, you nodded quickly, too desperate to think of anything else.

Jay rolled his eyes at your eagerness before pressing his tongue deeper into your heat, the slick sound of his mouth working against you making your entire body shudder. His tongue curled inside you, swirling, tasting, fucking into you like he was starved.

A strangled whimper tore from your lips, your back arching as your senses blurred into overwhelming pleasure. You could barely think, barely breathe. The sheer intensity of it had your mind spinning, and you almost swore you saw the gates of heaven open for you.

Muttering incoherent words, your hands scrambled for something to hold onto—Jake's arm, Jay's hair, the couch beneath you.

"Yes! Right there!" you cried out.

Jay's eyes flicked up, peering through his lashes, and his cock twitched painfully at the sight before him.

You and Jake were kissing. Sloppy, heated, tongues sliding against each other. Jake swallowed your moans eagerly, rolling his hips into your back, panting softly into your mouth.

Your nipples were painfully hard, your chest rising and falling in time with the pleasure coursing through you. Beads of sweat trickled down your skin, glistening under the dim light, sliding from your collarbone down to your navel, following every curve of your trembling body.

Jay groaned at the sight, a deep, guttural sound vibrating through his throat.

Both of you were too fucking hot.

The way you came undone against his mouth, the way Jake lost himself in the feeling of you. It was too much. His cock throbbed painfully against the fabric of his pants, aching for relief, for attention, for you.

Jake pulled away from the kiss just enough to smirk, his lips swollen and wet. "You enjoying the show?" he teased.

Jay didn't answer. Instead, he doubled down, tongue working furiously against your clit, determined to pull another orgasm from you. If Jake thought he had the upper hand, Jay was more than willing to prove him wrong.

And judging by the way your body tensed, by the way your moans became louder, higher—he was succeeding.

Jay was lapping up everything you gave him, his mouth completely fixated on making you fall apart over and over again. The wet sounds of his tongue working against you mixed with your breathless whimpers, making the room feel unbearably hot.

"Fuck—Jay!" you sobbed, hands fisting into his hair, tugging at the strands in desperation. Your thighs twitched, trembling with the threat of overstimulation, but Jay didn't slow down. If anything, he only got rougher, hungrier.

Jake chuckled lowly, his lips ghosting over your temple before moving down to your jaw, then your neck, pressing light teasing kisses there. "Look at you... So fucking wrecked," he murmured.

Jake let go of Jay's hand, refocusing his attention on you, his fingers toying with your nipple—tweaking, rolling it in time with Jay's movements.

"You're close again, aren't you?" Jake whispered, lips curving against your skin.

You nodded weakly, unable to form words, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure built up inside you. It was almost too much—almost unbearable. They were both completely focused on you, every touch, every movement designed to push you further over the edge.

Jay's hands went to gripped your thighs, keeping you locked in place as he worked his tongue against you with ruthless precision.

"J-Jay—" you gasped, thighs threatening to clamp around his head, but his grip was firm, keeping them spread wide.

Jake exhaled sharply, his hips pressing tighter against your back, grinding into you as he watched. "That's it, baby," he encouraged, "let go. Make a mess all over his face."

Jay growled against you, and that was it.

Your orgasm slammed into you again, tearing through your body violently, leaving you shaking, gasping, completely wrecked. Your walls clenched around nothing.

Jay groaned, drinking in everything, his tongue flicking against you a few more times, pushing you through every last tremor. He didn't let up until you physically tried to push him away, whimpering from the overstimulation.

"Fuck," Jake muttered, watching the way your body slumped against him, your chest heaving, your skin flushed with heat. He pressed another lingering kiss against your temple, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

Jay finally pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips glistening. His dark eyes flickered up to meet yours—hooded.

Jake's fingers tilted your chin up, guiding your gaze to him as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours softly.

Then, his touch disappeared. He turned, grabbing Jay by the nape, pulling him in. You exhaled shakily, watching as their lips crashed together.

Your stomach tightened at the sight, the heat between them palpable. Jake didn't waste any time, licking along Jay's lips before dipping lower, dragging his tongue down his chin, licking up every last trace of you that lingered there. Jay let out a low groan, gripping Jake's wrist tightly as their mouths moved together

"Bedroom," Jake muttered against Jay's lips, breaking apart.

Jake lift you effortlessly into his arms. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck, your legs tightening around his waist.

Over Jake's shoulder, you caught Jay's eyes still watching you like he was trying to figure out what to do with you.

Jake carefully lowered you onto the bed, his lips trailing down your jaw, peppering soft kisses along your throat, his hands firm as they spread your legs apart. But your attention drifted beyond him, straight to Jay, who was already pulling off his clothes impatiently, eyes never leaving the two of you.

The moment he was fully bare, Jake smirked, reaching for him again, pulling him down for another kiss.

You laid back against the pillows, legs still spread, your fingers instinctively trailing down your stomach, teasing along your sensitive folds, rubbing slow, lazy circles against your clit as you watched them.

"Come on, lay down," Jake murmured against Jay's lips before pulling away, pushing Jay onto the mattress.

The second Jay's back hit the bed, you and Jake exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between you.

Jay let out a sharp exhale as you swung your leg over him, straddling his thighs, your fingers trailing down the length of his cock. He twitched beneath your touch, eyes locked onto you.

You slowly rolled your hips forward, grinding against him, teasing the thick length of him against your folds, already dripping for him.

Jay groaned, hands instinctively moving to grip your waist—but before he could, Jake grabbed his wrists, pressing them down into the mattress.

"Hands off," Jake said, "you were too rough on her last time."

Jay gritted his teeth, glaring up at him. "No, I'm tired of playing whatever fucking game you two are—"

Jake cut him off by shoving his cock past his lips, silencing him instantly.

Jay's eyes widened, hands flying to Jake's hips, but Jake didn't budge, instead pushing himself deeper into Jay's mouth, letting out a breathy moan at the feeling of Jay's throat constricting around him.

"Fuck, yeah—" Jake groaned, his fingers tightening in Jay's hair.

Jay let out a muffled grunt, struggling against him, but you didn't give him a chance to resist further.

You sank down on him in one slow, deliberate motion.

A strangled noise tore from Jay's throat—half a groan, half a muffled curse—completely swallowed by Jake's cock still buried in his mouth.

Your head tipped back, your mouth falling open as the thick stretch of him filled you.

"Fuck!" you whimpered, hands on his abdomen for support. "Too big—"

Jay groaned beneath you, his hips twitching with the urge to thrust up, to take control—but Jake wasn't letting him. His hands remained firm on Jay's wrists, pinning them against his waist, making sure he stayed right where he was.

"You're so sexy, fuck," Jake murmured as he watched you struggle to take all of Jay. "So fucking full."

Your head tipped back, your lips parted, a whimper escaping you as you rocked your hips experimentally. Jay's cock twitched inside you, the thick stretch still bordering on painful—but the way he filled you, the way your walls clenched instinctively around him, made the burn feel so, so good.

Beneath you, Jay let out a frustrated growl, the vibrations from his throat sending jolts of pleasure straight through Jake's cock still buried between his lips. His nails dug deeper into Jake's hips, leaving crescent-shaped marks against his skin.

Jake hissed at the sensation, eyes darkening as he glanced down at him. "Getting impatient, baby?"

Jay glared up at him, unable to answer, his mouth still full. But the look he shot Jake was nothing short of a warning—one that promised payback the moment he got his hands free.

Jake smirked. "Too bad."

With that, he rolled his hips forward, pressing himself deeper into Jay's throat, making him gag slightly. At the same time, you shifted, rolling your hips again.

Jay's body tensed, his muffled groan vibrating around Jake's cock, making Jake shudder. "Fuck, that's it, baby," Jake rasped, "take it like a good boy."

You whimpered at the filthy sight in front of you—the way Jay's mouth stretched around Jake, the way his throat bobbed, the way his cock twitched inside you every time he moaned. It was too much.

Slowly, you move your hands on Jay's chest for balance, bracing yourself before you lifted your hips, only to slam them back down again.

Jay's reaction was instant. His whole body jerked, a choked noise escaping him.

You gasped at the feeling, the stretch, the way he filled you so completely.

Jake chuckled breathlessly. "Fuck, baby," he murmured, watching the way Jay's body tensed.

"He's losing his mind already."

You sighs, rolling your hips again, this time slower, dragging out the sensation.

"I don't think he's really sorry," you murmured, pouting down at him, fingers trailing over his chest.

Jake let out a low chuckle, his own hips rolling forward, forcing another muffled groan from Jay's throat. "You hear that, babe?" he mused. "You're being mean again."

Jay's eyes snapped up to you and when he tried to move, Jake tightened his grip on his wrists, keeping him in place.

"Be a good boy," Jake taunted, a wicked grin on his face. "Then maybe—just maybe—we'll let you fuck her the way you want to."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled around Jake's cock, the words muffled but there.

You shift your hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding down on him just to watch him squirm.

Jay let out a muffled curse, his whole body trembling beneath you. His tongue flicked desperately against Jake's cock, his throat tightening around him as he tried again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Jake cursed under his breath, looking down at Jay. His boyfriend's eyes were glossy, a tear slipping from the corner of one as he struggled to hold himself back.

"Fuck," Jake whispered, pulling away, his hand coming down to swipe the tear away with his thumb.

Jay exhaled sharply, his lips slick and swollen, his eyes burning into Jake's. "Please," he rasped, voice hoarse. His gaze flickered to you, "let me touch her already."

Jake was loving every second of this, watching Jay unravel, his pride stripped away. It reminded him of the first time they ever did this, when Jay had pretended he didn't want it, when he had fought it tooth and nail—until he couldn't anymore.

Until he was begging for it, just like this.

And God, Jake had missed it. Seeing Jay like this. Watching him break down, surrender to his own desires.

Jake smirked, letting go of his wrists. "Be gentle with her," he murmured, though the words carried no real weight. He knew Jay well enough to know he was barely capable of gentleness right now.

The moment his hands were free, Jay's fingers shot to your waist, gripping you tight. His breath shuddered as he finally felt you, the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips, the way your walls clenched down around him so perfectly.

"Fuck," he hissed, his head tipping back for just a second before his gaze snapped back to you. He gave your waist a slow, experimental roll, guiding you against him.

Jay groaned, his hands sliding from your waist down to your thighs, squeezing, spreading them wider. Then, with agonizing slowness, he moved upward again—over the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, up to your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers just enough to make you gasp.

Anticipation crawling down your spine as his touch moved higher, his fingers brushing against your throat. Your eyes widened, breath stammering at what he was about to do—

But then he sat up, his grip shifting, his lips ghosting over your collarbone before trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

The unexpected gentleness made your chest tighten. This wasn't the rough, punishing Jay you thought he would be.

"That's what she likes," Jake muttered. He had positioned himself beside you, stroking himself lazily as he watched the way your body arched against Jay's, completely entranced by the sight.

Jay's hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he rolled his hips upward, sinking deeper into your heat. A sharp gasp tore from your lips, your body instinctively adjusting, your back curving as your hands braced against his knees.

Jay groaned at the way you clenched around him, his fingers tightening against your waist, but he let you move at your own pace, letting you take what you needed.

"Ahhh, fuck!" you moaned, tilting your head back, surrendering to the feeling.

Jake sucked in a sharp breath beside you, his hand moving faster, grip tightening as he struggled to keep control. He had been holding back, savoring the view—watching the way Jay stretched you open.

But the moment he saw it. The outline of Jay's cock pressing against your stomach, the proof of just how deep he was inside you.

Jake's breath hitched, his restraint snapping instantly. His body tensed, muscles locking as a deep, guttural moan ripped from his throat. His release hit hard, ropes of hot cum streaking across your chest, trailing up to your throat. A few stray drops landed on your lips, warm and sticky.

"Goddamn it," Jake groaned, hating the sudden force of his release.

Jay exhaled sharply as he fought the urge to flip you over and take control. Instead, he leaned in, his tongue darting out to lap up the mess Jake had made on your skin. Wet strokes traced from your chest up to your chin.

A moan slipped past your lips as the sensation made your hips grind down harder, each movement pressing Jay deeper inside you, the head of his cock brushing dangerously close to your cervix.

Your fingers threaded through his hair as he kissed you, swallowing the gasp that escaped when his tongue slipped past your parted lips. He groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening on your waist.

Jay was grateful you weren't much of a talker because if you so much as whispered something filthy in his ear, he'd lose it right then and there. But the way you gasped? The breathy little whimpers spilling past your lips? Fuck, that wasn't helping either.

A low whine came from behind you, and then Jake pressed himself against your back, refusing to be left out. His warm breath fanned against your ear as he reached around, one hand claiming your breast, kneading. The other hand trailed lower, brushing over your clit.

"W-wait—too much," you panted, pulling back slightly, your hands weakly pressing against their chests. Jay barely let you go, his lips chasing yours as if he couldn't stand the distance.

Jake hushed you, pressing a lingering kiss against the side of your face. "Just one more, baby," he pleaded. His forehead rested against yours, his moans intertwining with yours as he watched Jay's expression shift—his brows knitting, jaw clenched, eyes fluttering shut as he snapped his hips up, hitting deeper, harder.

Your head tipped back with a cry, thighs trembling as the pleasure became a bit much.

"Just one more," Jake whispered again, his fingers working your clit in slow, teasing circles. "I know you can take it." 

"Fuck, I can't! I can't!" You shook your head wildly, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks. It was too much, too intense. You don't really know if you can handle another one again.

But your helpless cries only seemed to spur them on.

Jake groaned,  his hand tightening around your breast. "You're crying again," he murmured, more to himself. "So fucking pretty."

Jay's breath hitched beneath you, his grip bruising against your waist. "Jake, keep doing that—I'm gonna cum," he gritted out.

You could barely move anymore. Your body was trembling violently, you continue to shake your head, wanting to get up and take a break but Jake didn't let up, his fingers relentless, rubbing tight circles against your swollen clit. 

"You're taking it so well, baby," he praised. "Come on—let go again for us."

Your vision blurred, your breath caught in your throat as a scream tore from your lips. Your body convulsed, an electric shock of ecstasy tearing through every nerve ending. Your walls clenched around Jay, milking him, you didn't know orgasm could be this good. and the feeling make him lose his mind.

"Shit—fuck!" Jay's hips stuttered, his body tensing beneath you as he continue to thrust up, spilling deep inside you with a rough groan.

His fingers dug into your flesh, holding you flush against him, making sure you took every last drop.

The overstimulation sent you spiraling again, a second orgasm ripping through you, a broken sob leaving your lips as you soaked his stomach.

Jake moaned, his own hand stroking himself, eyes locked on the way your body twitched helplessly.

Jay let out a heavy breath, his head dropping back against the pillows, chest heaving. His fingers traced the curve of your spine absentmindedly. You collapsed against him, legs still shaking, your mind floating somewhere between bliss and exhaustion.

Jake's hands wrapped around your waist, dragging you away from Jay's warmth. You whimpered, your body too spent to resist. 

"Please," Jake murmured against your skin, lips pressing gentle kisses down your back, "one more, okay? It'll be fast, I promise."

A shaky sob left your lips. Your body was marked, every inch of your skin imprinted with their touch—bruised fingers on your hips, deep red marks across your thighs. 

You were sore, completely and utterly spent. You whisper a small "okay", praying to be done already.

Jake groaned in approval, tilting your hips up. His fingers spread over the swell of your ass, cursing under his breath as he watched Jay's cum drip from your hole.

"Holy shit," he exhaled, running his thumb through the mess before pressing it inside, watching it disappear into your heat. Your entire body twitched, another weak whine slipping past your lips.

Jay let out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair. He didn't think it was possible for him to be hard again so soon, but watching you collapse under Jake's touch—watching his own release spill from you, slicking up Jake's length as he slowly pressed inside—had his cock twitching to life.

"Oh my God," Jake groaned, sinking in inch by inch. The glide was effortless, Jay's cum making it easier for him to push into your overstimulated body. You were shaking beneath him, your fingers curling desperately into the bedsheets.

Jay shifted beside you, he propped himself up, watching as Jake started to move. His hand trailed down his own stomach, fingers wrapping around himself, already hard again.

Jake's rhythm grew faster, his nails digging into your waist as he slammed himself deeper, watching more of Jay's release spill down into your thigh with every thrust, no space available inside. 

"F-fuck, so hot." he stuttered, his voice breaking into a whine. His jaw clenched as he watched the obscene way his cock disappeared inside you.

Jay grip your chin, tilting your head towards him. Your tongue lolled slightly, your breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Jay cursed under his breath at the sight, his strokes growing rougher on himself.

Jake let out a strangled moan. His pace turned erratic, hips snapping against yours desperately as he buried himself deep one last time, spilling inside you with a low, drawn-out groan.

"I can't! S-Stop!" You broke. Another pleasure hitting you in waves so intense it stole the breath from your lungs. Your back arched as your walls clenched down on Jake, milking every last drop from him. 

Your eyes rolled back, lips parting in a silent cry.

Jay let out a sharp breath, the image of you alone pushing him over the edge. His release spilling hot and messy across your face, dripping down your chin, pooling at the corners of your mouth.

Jake slumped forward against you, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, still catching his breath. Jay breathe, hand lazily brushing against your cheek, smearing the mess across your skin.

"Perfect," Jay muttered.

Jake hummed in agreement, shifting slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. "You did so good, hmm?" His voice was soft, full of warmth.

Your limbs were too heavy, your body sinking into the mattress. A weak whimper left your lips as you nuzzled deeper into the sheets, seeking warmth, comfort.

And just like the last time—you passed out.

Jake was the first to notice, lifting his head slightly to glance down at you. His lips curled into a tired smile before he carefully shifted, pulling out of you as gently as he could. You whimpered in protest at the loss, but Jay's hands were already smoothing over your skin, grounding you.

"She's out," Jake murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face.

Jay huffed, stretching his arms before moving. "Come on, let's get her cleaned up."

Between the two of them, they carried you to the bathroom, handling your limp body with surprising gentleness. The warm water cascaded down your skin, Jake chuckled when your head lolled against Jay's shoulder, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

"She sleeps like a baby," Jake mused, reaching for a washcloth.

Jay, who was carefully holding you upright, rolled his eyes. "No shit. You wore her out."

Jake only laughed, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before rinsing you off.

Once you were clean and dry, Jay carried you back to bed while Jake changed the sheets, replacing them with fresh ones. He pulled the blanket over your bare body, making sure you were warm before slipping in beside you.

This time, you didn't wake up alone. 

Your eyes fluttered open. The first thing you noticed was warmth. A solid weight pressed against you from both sides.

Jake's arm was draped over your shoulder, pulling you flush against his chest. His face was nestled against your hair, his breath slow and deep as he snored softly.

Another hand rested against your waist, fingers barely curled against your skin. Blinking sluggishly, you tilted your head slightly, your heart stammering at the sight behind you. 

Jay was there—his body pressed firmly against your back, his face relaxed in a way you'd never seen before. No furrowed brows, no tight-lipped frown. Just stillness. The quiet rise and fall of his chest against you.

His grip on your waist was loose, as if he had reached for you in his sleep without thinking.

A small, unexpected smile tugged at your lips. You let your eyes flutter shut again, exhaling softly. This time, as sleep pulled you under, you let yourself sink into their warmth.

Sunoo eyed you suspiciously as he pulled out a chair beside you, dropping two plastic bottles onto the table with a dull thud.

"Good mood?" he asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

You stretched your arms, a slow smile spreading across your lips. "Yeah, got the best sleep of my life."

Jay, who had just settled his laptop and books on the table, barely spared you a glance.

Sunoo hummed. "You said we were gonna hit the café today. What about later?"

Before you could answer, Jay cut in without looking up. "We're starting chapter four."

Sunoo blinked at him in disbelief. "What the fuck? Give me some slack! We'll do our part, just let us relax for once."

You laughed at his whining, your gaze flickering to Jay for a brief moment before reaching for one of the bottles. You twisted the cap, but it barely budged.

"God, do not buy this brand again," you groaned, straining against the stubborn lid. "It's impossible to open."

Sunoo grunted in agreement, grabbing his own bottle to try, only to meet the same struggle. "Shit, seriously. What is this? Childproof or some shit?"

Before either of you could complain further, Jay reached out, taking the bottle from your hands without a word. Effortlessly, he twisted the cap open and set it back down in front of you.

Your fingers twitched slightly, the unexpected gesture catching you off guard. Sunoo, mid-sulk, blinked at Jay in mild shock.

Jay, noticing the stare, let out a quiet sigh before grabbing Sunoo's bottle too. He twisted it open just as easily and placed it in front of him. 

"You’re welcome," Jay muttered, already flipping open his laptop. Sunoo stared at the bottle, then at you, then back at Jay like he had just witnessed a supernatural event.

"Jake will be here in an hour," Jay continued, completely unbothered. "We can go to the café you wanted after we start working on the results and findings."

Sunoo’s mouth dropped open slightly, his brain short-circuiting. But instead of responding, he reached under the table and pinched your arm—hard.

You flinched, glaring at him. "Ow! What the hell?" you hissed.

But Sunoo was too busy silently squealing, his eyes wide with barely contained excitement as he watched Jay sit down, fully immersed in your research.

"Wow! You’re in a good mood too!" Sunoo blurted out, his voice slightly high-pitched with suppressed glee.

Jay didn’t even look up. "No, I just want to get this over with."

Sunoo shot you a pointed look, wiggling his brows. but you ignored him, focusing on your screen.

The three of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, typing away, until the familiar sound of footsteps approached. Before you could react, Jake appeared behind you, nuzzling his cheek against yours with a content hum.

"Missed me?" he teased, before pulling back to press a quick kiss on Jay’s temple, his arms sneaking around his boyfriend’s waist.

Sunoo wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, can you two not?"

Jake only grinned, unbothered, before turning his attention back to you. "So, café time?"

You perked up, excitement buzzing through you. "Yes! I’ve been waiting all day to try that matcha-strawberry drink."

Sunoo clapped his hands together. "Finally, a reward for my suffering!"

Without hesitation, you pushed back your chair and stood up, eager to leave. Jake and Sunoo flanked you immediately, chatting animatedly about the menu, already making plans to order half the pastries just to "test them out properly."

As the three of you made your way down the hallway, you couldn’t help but peek over your shoulder.

Jay was trailing behind as usual, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, his pace slower.

Without thinking, you pulled away from Sunoo and Jake, slowing your steps until you were beside him. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around his, tugging him forward. 

"Come on, walk faster. We're starving for sweets already," you whispered, your voice light and teasing.

Jay stiffened for a second, his eyes flicking down to where you held onto him. But then, his shoulders relaxed, and to your surprise, the corner of his lips quirked up in the faintest half-smile.

Jake, watching the scene unfold, let out a small, pleased hum. His lips curled in amusement before he smoothly moved to Jay’s other side, slinging an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders.

Sunoo, who had been watching with wide eyes, suddenly grinned. "Well, well, well," he muttered under his breath, clearly enjoying whatever was happening. Then, without hesitation, he threw himself onto your other side, dramatically resting his head against your shoulder.

The four of you continued walking, your steps now in sync, voices mixing together in overlapping conversation.

As you walked, still nestled against Jay’s side, you squinted at Jake, who was already watching you with mischief in his eyes.

Jake stuck his tongue out playfully, then made a ridiculous face, his brows wiggling as he tried to get a reaction out of you.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the small smile creeping onto your lips.

Jay, stuck in the middle, let out a grunt, clearly unimpressed. "Do you two ever stop?" he muttered. 

Jake only grinned wider. "Nope."

Jay huffed, but his attention flickered to you again. He watched the way your eyes softened whenever you looked at Jake, the way your laughter was bright, effortless.

He had convinced himself that his irritation, his short fuse around you, was justified. That pushing you away, acting indifferent, was the only way to keep things from spiraling out of control. But now, walking beside you, his arm still loosely wrapped around your frame, he felt something shift.

Jay didn’t feel that usual, biting irritation clawing at his chest and more importantly—he wasn’t so sour about it.

[demie90s]

For my pookie: @xxsnowxx213

Do Better

Nika Mühl x fem!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: You okay for UConn you’re dating someone from South Carolina—publicly. But privately? Nika’s been pushing her luck.

Genre: Sapphic sports drama, one-sided relationship angst, love-triangle tension, flirtation, jealousy, trash talk with feelings

Warnings: Profanity, possessive behavior, heavy flirtation, toxic relationship dynamics, aggressive competition, mic’d up chaos

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

I don’t even remember when it started. The spoiling. The touching. The whispering shit she had no business saying. It just… became routine.

Nika don’t ask. She does. You say you like something once—boom, it’s yours. You frown after practice—there’s a smoothie on your chair. You mention being sore—she’s got magnesium lotion in her locker for “team recovery,” like we all dumb enough to think it’s for everybody.

And it’s not just gifts. It’s her. Her presence. The way she carries herself like she got nothing to prove and everything to offer. The way she leans into me during film like I’m made of gravity. The way her voice drops when we’re alone, soft and smug, like she’s telling me secrets just to watch me squirm.

She don’t like my girl. At all. I got a girlfriend. She’s not at UConn—she plays for South Carolina. We see each other when we can. Text. FaceTime. Try to make it work. But lately? It’s been… exhausting.

She always got something to say.

“You don’t post me enough.”

“You always around Nika.”

“Be honest—are you cheating?”

Like clockwork. And I’m not. Technically. But she don’t trust me. Or maybe she does—she just don’t trust Nika.

Which is fair.

Because Nika doesn’t even try to be subtle. She’ll post a pic of me holding flowers with no caption. Zoom in on our hands in the back of a team photo. Tag me in her story just to piss my girl off and leave the tag public.

“Oops,” she’ll say when I call her out. But she’s not sorry.

Not when she tells me I deserve better. Not when she leans in during team Lives and brushes my hair out of my face like she owns me. Not when she catches my eye across the gym and raises her brow just to see if I’ll look away first.

I never do. She calls me soft. Says I get quiet when I’m being pulled in too many directions.

“You should let go of what’s draining you,” she tells me one night. “You’d glow more.”

She’s not wrong.

The real set-up started the night before our game against South Carolina.

We get to the hotel, dragging our gear, group chat blowing up, people clowning about who got what room. Geno claps his hands and starts reading off pairings like this is a damn sorority retreat.

I’m half listening—until I hear my name.

“Y/n and… Nika.” I look up. Nika’s already looking at me. Smiling like the devil himself just gave her permission.

She doesn’t say anything. Just shrugs and grabs her bag. I swear her steps get lighter the moment she realizes we’re roomed together. Like her prayers got answered and mine just got cancelled.

My phone buzzes. My girlfriend. I already know what it’s gonna say before I even open it.

“So y’all rooming together now? Lmao okay.”

“Don’t get too comfortable.”

“You know how that look, right?”

I throw the phone on the bed. Lay flat. Let out a sigh. Cause how tf….never mind.

Nika’s unzipping her suitcase like nothing’s wrong. “She mad already?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” I mutter. “You’re her worst nightmare.”

She grins. “I should get a medal.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re not helping.”

“She doesn’t deserve you,” she says like she’s reminding me. Like I forgot.

I sit up. “She’s just… I don’t know. Always picking at shit.”

“She don’t trust you.”

“She don’t trust you.”

“Well,” Nika says, walking over, “that’s smart of her.”

I glare. “You’re terrible.”

“And yet,” she says, sitting on the bed next to me, so close our thighs touch, “you still don’t stop me.”

I don’t respond. Can’t. Cause she’s not wrong. She leans back, scrolling my phone without permission like she owns it. She reads the texts. Smiles at them like they’re funny. “You should leave her on red.”

“I can’t.”

“You could.”

Silence. Then—“You scared?”

I look over at her. Her face is soft. Too soft for the fire she usually keeps behind her eyes. It makes me nervous.

“I’m not scared,” I say.

She doesn’t blink. “Then leave her.”

I don’t answer. I don’t have to. Because it’s not that simple. Because I am loyal. Or trying to be. But Nika makes it so hard. I think she knows she’s winning.

Game day felt heavier than it should’ve.

I woke up with a headache. That dull, pressure-filled kind that starts behind the eyes and crawls across your whole skull by the time you hit shootaround. And of course, the texts started early.

“So you just not gonna say good morning?”

“You sleep in the same room as her or nah?”

“Don’t lie. I know y’all close.”

I didn’t even reply. Just turned my screen over and sat in the hotel mirror pretending to focus on my edges while Nika hummed some Croatian song behind me and tossed me her spare hair tie without even looking.

She could feel it. That tension I was dragging with me. But she ain’t say shit about it. She just walked out the room like she had a job to do.

On the court. She showed out. I mean embarrassed them.

Every possession felt personal. Like she was pissed off but too calm to scream. Just… cold. Hitting stepbacks with a smile. Fast break dimes. Locking up anyone who even looked like they were gonna drive past her.

And then she got switched onto my girl. Lord. It was a show. First play—strip steal, easy lay.

Next possession? Girl tried to drive, Nika bodied her into a damn timeout. Didn’t say a word. Just jogged past her back to the huddle, wiping her mouth like the meal was too easy.

Coach didn’t even sub her out. Nobody could. She was running that floor like it was her name on the banners. And the whole time, she kept glancing at me.

Not blowing kisses or doing anything corny. Just that same unreadable expression. Like: Are you watching? Do you see the difference yet?

I did. And I hated it. But I did.

We won.

Bench going crazy, crowd hyped. But I’m quiet. Sitting on the edge of the bleachers with a Gatorade bottle pressed to my temple and my heart trying not to race. Sweat on my neck. Breath short.

My head hurts worse. I’m still collecting myself when she walks over. My girl. Hair tied back. Face pissed. Whole body moving with too much intention.

“Nah, we not finna do that,” she says before I even register she’s standing in front of me.

“Do what?” I ask, voice flat.

She steps closer. “You think I didn’t see her? You think I didn’t hear what she said to me? That little ass whisper shit she do—”

“Stop,” I mutter. I rub my temple. “Just stop.”

“I’m talking to you.”

“And I have a headache,” I snap back, low but sharp. “Not right now.”

“You didn’t even check her!”

“And what was I supposed to do?” I shoot back. “Foul her out for making a damn jumper?”

Nika walks up right then, still wiping her mouth with her jersey, hair a little messy, cheeks flushed with victory. She’s laughing under her breath, not even pretending to be chill about it.

“Oh this what we doin now?” my girl says, stepping toward her.

Nika blinks. Looks her up and down once. “Girl, we been doin it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Nika says, still smirking. “You got a lot to say for someone who got outplayed and outloved in the same night.”

I hear a few gasps. Someone filming. The bench ain’t even cleared yet. Media staff still courtside. And me? I’m rubbing my face like I want to disappear.

“You not even her girl,” my girl spits.

And before I can even stop myself—I stand. But I don’t step toward her. I reach to the side, grip Nika’s wrist, and pull her toward the locker room.

Everyone sees it. The team. The cameras. The world. And Nika grins.

“Wow,” she laughs, stumbling after me like she just won the lottery. “That’s crazy. You ain’t even answer her. Just grabbed me like I’m yours.”

“You are mine,” I snap, but it’s tired. Frustrated. My head still pounding.

We get past the doors. I let go of her hand and slump against the wall.

“Nika,” I mutter, eyes closed. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

She shrugs. “She made it easy.”

I groan. “You’re so annoying.”

“Annoyingly right.”

I open one eye. She’s staring at me, arms crossed, smug like always.

“I didn’t mean to choose you,” I mutter.

“Sure you didn’t,” she says, still smiling. “That’s why your first instinct was to grab me like I been yours. ‘Cause you meant not to.”

I look up at the ceiling. “Oh Lord.”

She walks up, pulls the Gatorade bottle out of my hand, presses a cold kiss to my forehead.

“Get used to it.”

It’s quiet when we get back to the hotel. Uncomfortably quiet. I don’t speak. She doesn’t either.

The door closes behind us and I go straight for my bag, pull out my hoodie and towel, and hit the shower without a word. My head still hurts. My phone’s vibrating non-stop—calls, texts, Instagram, all of it. Her. My girl. Or ex. Or… whatever she is now.

I let the water run hot until my skin feels raw and my brain stops buzzing. I don’t rush. I towel off slow. Pull on my hoodie, leave my shorts somewhere on the bathroom floor, and finally slide into bed.

Not Nika’s. Mine.

Two queen beds. Hotel room sterile and still. I crawl under the covers with wet hair and a blank face. I’m not tired. Just… drained. The kind of drained where you lay in bed staring at the ceiling with your jaw clenched and the taste of someone else’s name still stuck to the roof of your mouth.

And then—ten minutes later—I hear the water cut off. Shit. I close my eyes like that’ll stop her from doing what I already know she’s about to do. And of course, two minutes later, the bed dips behind me.

She gets in mine. I hear her sigh once, like she tried to chill. Then—

“You’re not asleep.” I roll my eyes. Keep them closed.

She scoots closer. I scoot an inch away. She mirrors me.

“I can move too,” she says calmly, her voice smug as hell and still a little scratchy from the game.

I turn to face her, finally, lips pressed tight in annoyance. “Why are you in my bed?”

She shrugs. Hair damp, skin fresh. She smells like vanilla body wash and trouble. And she’s smiling. Not big—just enough to let me know she feels real good about herself.

“You’re mad,” she says.

“I’m irritated.”

“Same thing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Still not sleeping.”

“I was close.”

“You weren’t.”

I try not to smile. Try hard. But a breath escapes my nose—just a small puff of amusement—and she catches it. That’s all she needs. Her grin widens like a damn demon child, all pride and dimple and ‘I knew you missed me.’

I turn my head away again. “Stop hangin’ out with KK and Paige.”

“Now why you say that?”

“Because you act just like them,” I mutter. “Annoying. Loud. Cocky for no reason.”

Nika gasps—genuinely gasps like I just disrespected her bloodline. Then, like it’s nothing, she grabs my phone off the nightstand and pulls up Instagram.

“Since I’m already public enemy number one,” she mutters. “Might as well go Live.”

“Don’t go live on my—” Too late. Camera’s on.

I drop back into the mattress and groan like I’m under attack. “Here. She. Go.”

She straddles my waist like it’s her birthright. Hoodie hanging off one shoulder, hair a mess, eyes still a little red from her post-game shower. I lay sideways on the bed like a corpse, hands behind my head, eyes to the ceiling, while she faces the camera.

“Hi, friends,” she says sweetly. “It’s ya girl. Coming to you live from someone’s bed. Don’t worry about who.”

I sigh. Loudly. She turns the camera to my face just as I blink slow like I’m about to pass into the afterlife.

“She’s so dramatic,” she whispers into the mic like she’s narrating a nature documentary.

I don’t even move. I’m flat. I’m horizontal. I’m being terrorized. Then she leans down and starts kissing my face. Not normal kisses. Annoying ones. Rapid-fire, soft and warm, all over my cheek, my forehead, my jawline.

“Stop,” I mumble, trying to wiggle away. She grabs my face with both hands and kisses my nose.

“Say you love me.”

“I don’t,” I lie.

She lays her face on mine—on mine. Not next to it. On it. Cheek to cheek. We’re nose to nose. My vision’s nothing but her eyelashes.

“Say it,” she whispers, lips brushing mine but not kissing.

I stay silent. She presses another kiss right beside my mouth.

“You love me,” she says for me. I blink.

“You do,” she insists, kissing down to my jaw.

The comments on aren’t helping.

“THE LEGS? THE STRADDLE? THE LIVE?”

“nah this ain’t flirting this is FEDERAL”

“soooo we not gon talk about the fact she NEVER broke up with her gf???” (Yes)

I roll onto my back like I’m preparing for death. One arm behind my head. Other one on her waist. Like it belongs there. And she leans into it.

She bites her lip when she notices and dips down low enough to kiss me like it’s nothing. Like we not on Live. Like that wasn’t the kiss.

I don’t even look at her. I grab the remote and turn on Cartoon Network. Volume low. Lazy. Like she ain’t folded me in front of the world.

“DID SHE JUST KISS HER?”

“picked the funny channel like she not in love”

“THIS IS A RELATIONSHIP 😭😭😭😭”

“damn so Nika really winning huh”

And then, with all the casual audacity of a woman who knows she won the war and the land it sits on. She ends the Live. Click. Then lowers herself like she don’t even see me blinking through the betrayal.

Lays her full body across mine like I’m her mattress. Slides her arms under mine. Head in my neck. Like we’re good now.

“Goodnight,” she whispers, like she didn’t just commit emotional arson with one (1) straddle and a camera.

I stay frozen for a second. Just breathing. No words.

Then, without thinking, I hook my arm tighter around her waist. Not even realizing I’m doing it until she sighs softly against my neck and my hand stays there.

Because I’m not mad. Not really. I just wanted quiet. And this—this ridiculous, smug, stubborn Croatian girl—is the loudest peace I’ve ever known.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin

[harryssyndrome]

Hoax | h.s

summery: “don’t want no other shade blue but you. No other sadness in the world would do…”

based off this request. Thank you so much anon for this idea, this was so fun writing and I hope it’s something you were looking for. I tried to be as angsty as possible with a blend of cutesy sweet, hope it’s a perfect mix. Let me know in the comments? [thank you! mwah mwah mwah 💋]

Posted on: November 26th, 2024. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM. Like, comment & reblog are appreciated 💓Italics are past memories. Hope you lovelies enjoy this little big piece.

wc: 6.6k (oops🤭) || Masterlist 🤍

Tag-List: @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 @wheredidmyeyesgo @cherryloveshs | TAGLIST IS OPEN! || REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! 💌

The morning had started just like any other, the sun streaming in through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over everything, but YN barely noticed. She sat at the counter, her hands curled around a coffee mug, its warmth barely a match for the cold ache building inside her. The apartment felt empty, despite the soft hum of the city just outside the window. She could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on her, a silence that had grown more oppressive over the past few weeks.

Harry had been on tour for what seemed like forever now, and their communication had dwindled. What had once been late-night calls and stolen moments between sound checks had turned into rushed, distracted conversations, where he was either too busy or too tired to give her his full attention. YN had always known the demands of his career, had always been willing to share him with the world, but it was starting to feel like he was slipping further away from her.

She had tried to be understanding, tried to remind herself that this was just a phase—that he was only gone for a while, and they would find their way back to each other. But today felt different. Something in the air was charged with tension, a sense of dread that hung around her like a cloud. Harry had promised to call her during his break between rehearsals, and as the minutes ticked by, that sense of unease only grew. She hadn’t heard from him, not even a text to explain why.

When the phone finally rang, she grabbed it with an anxious breath, hoping for the reassurance she so desperately needed.

“Hey, babe,” Harry’s voice crackled through the phone, distant and strained. There was a tiredness in his voice that made her heart ache even more.

“Hi,” she replied softly, trying to keep her tone light, but the worry slipped out anyway. “I was starting to wonder if you forgot about me.”

Harry didn’t immediately answer, and YN could feel him shifting on the other end, perhaps looking for the right words, or maybe just gathering the energy to engage with her. “I didn’t forget,” he said after a beat, his voice uncharacteristically flat. “It’s just… things are hectic right now. You know how it is.”

YN frowned, her fingers tightening around her mug. She knew how it was. She knew that Harry’s tour schedule was demanding, that he barely had time to breathe, let alone talk to her. But it was different now. It had been different for weeks, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“I get it, Harry,” she said softly, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “But it feels like we haven’t really talked in days. I feel like I’m losing you.”

The words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken emotions. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to accuse him of pulling away, but she couldn’t ignore what was happening anymore. She missed him. She missed the way they used to connect, how they’d stay up all night talking about their dreams and fears, how they’d laugh until their stomachs ached. Now, it felt like all they did was talk about logistics and time zones. She wanted more than that.

Harry let out a heavy sigh, and for a moment, she thought he was going to apologize, that he would offer the comfort she so desperately needed. But instead, his voice grew colder, his words sharper. “You miss me? Maybe you miss the version of me that you had before all of this. But I’m not the same person anymore, YNN. I’m just tired. Tired of feeling like I’m constantly being pulled in a million directions.”

Her heart sank at his words, the finality in them hitting her harder than she had expected. “What does that mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s words came out in a rush, almost like he couldn’t stop them, as if they were coming from a place deeper than he intended. “It means that I don’t have the energy for this right now. I don’t have the energy to keep pretending that everything is fine when it’s not. And maybe I’m just tired of pretending that you’re not asking for more than I can give. Maybe I need space. Maybe we both need space.”

The words stabbed her. She felt them deep in her chest, each one like a dagger, twisting further with every breath. “Space?” she echoed, barely able to form the word, the hurt creeping into her voice despite her best efforts to hold it back. “I’m not asking for space, Harry. I’m just asking for you. For the person you promised me you’d always be.”

Harry didn’t respond right away, and when he did, his voice was tight, defensive. “Maybe that person isn’t here anymore, YNN. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to say.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. YN could hear the faint rustling of something on his end of the phone, the noise of people moving in the background, but it didn’t matter. The emptiness between them felt so loud, so unbearable. The connection that once held them together was fraying, thread by thread.

She swallowed hard, the tears welling in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. “If that’s how you feel, then I guess I’ll leave.”

The words came out before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted them. But the damage was done. The silence that followed was deafening, and the weight of Harry’s absence felt so heavy, so crushing, that she could barely breathe. The person she loved, the person she had given everything to, had just told her he was done. He was tired of her.

Before she could say another word, she ended the call. The click of the phone disconnecting felt like the final nail in the coffin, sealing whatever it was that they had left.

YN sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in her hand as if it were some foreign object. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her mind was numb, her thoughts tangled in confusion and hurt. The apartment, their shared space, felt so small now. It felt suffocating. Every corner of the place was a reminder of everything that had once been good, everything that was now falling apart.

Tears blurred her vision as she stood up from the counter. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to go. But she couldn’t stay there. Not with him, not with the words he had just said. The love they had built felt like ashes, and she couldn’t breathe in the smoke any longer.

She started packing her things, her movements automatic, like she was on autopilot. Her hands shook as she threw clothes into a bag, not caring if they matched or if they were folded neatly. Nothing mattered in that moment except the urgent need to get away from the place that had once been home. She ignored the phone buzzing with messages, messages from Harry, apologizing, pleading with her to call him back. She couldn’t. Not yet. Not after the things he had said.

When she finished packing, she grabbed her bags and walked out the door. The apartment felt even emptier as she closed the door behind her. There were no more goodbyes, no more promises. Just the echo of his hurtful words ringing in her ears.

YN drove to her parents’ house in a daze, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened, about how quickly their love had unraveled. She needed space to think. To breathe. To figure out how to move on from this. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t that simple.

It wasn’t just a fight. It was something deeper. Something that couldn’t be fixed with apologies.

When she pulled into the driveway, she didn’t feel the relief she thought she would. Instead, the silence that had followed her from their apartment seemed to follow her here. Even the familiar sight of her childhood home didn’t offer the comfort it once had. It all felt distant. Empty. Just like her heart.

She stepped out of the car, closing the door behind her with a soft click. As she walked up to the front door, her phone buzzed again. She ignored it. She couldn’t bear to look at it. She couldn’t bear to see his name flashing on the screen. The man she loved had just shattered her heart into a million pieces, and she didn’t know how to pick them up.

The night had been a blur for Harry. The anger, the disappointment, the gnawing guilt in his chest from the argument with YN—it was all too much to bear. In the solitude of his hotel room, far from her, he drowned out the pain with alcohol. He knew he had messed up, knew he had hurt her with his words, but the overwhelming pressure of being on tour, the constant demand of being a public figure, and the exhaustion had driven him to the brink. He had never intended for it to escalate the way it did, but in his drunken haze, it all came crashing down.

Somewhere between the blurry shots and the endless stream of drinks, he found himself in a bar, surrounded by strangers, feeling more alone than he had in a long time. His phone was buzzing on the table, the screen lighting up with YN’s name flashing, but he didn’t pick it up. The coldness in his heart had become too unbearable, and he pushed her away instead of confronting the hurt he had caused. He just wanted the world to stop spinning for a moment. He wanted to forget everything that had gone wrong.

And that was when Emily Ratajkowski had walked in.

They had known each other for years, casually friendly in the way celebrities often are when their circles overlap. Emily, ever the charmer, had greeted Harry with a friendly smile. They sat and talked, their conversation casual at first, just the usual small talk about work and life. But Harry, caught in his haze of regret, had let his guard down. The more they talked, the more the words flowed. In some strange way, it felt easy to talk to her—like she was a stranger he could confide in, someone who didn’t carry the same weight of their past, the years of intimacy and history he shared with YN.

It didn’t take long before the alcohol took its toll. Emily’s laughter had filled the air, and Harry had found himself leaning closer, her presence soothing in a way that made him forget the ache in his chest. Before he knew it, they were kissing. His mind screamed for him to stop, to think about YN, to remember everything he stood to lose. But in that moment, he didn’t. The guilt had been smothered by the fleeting comfort of the kiss, the escape from his spiraling thoughts.

He didn’t remember much after that. The night blurred into incoherence, a jumble of laughter, flashes, and fleeting touches. Harry woke up the next morning, disoriented and groggy, the light filtering through the hotel room window far too bright. His phone was buzzing incessantly, and his stomach churned when he saw the series of missed calls and messages from YN. The weight of it all hit him like a wave, and for a moment, he just sat there, trying to piece together the fragments of his memories.

Then, his phone lit up with an alert—a notification from a gossip website, and his heart dropped into his stomach. There, in front of him, were pictures of him and Emily Ratajkowski, the kind of photos Harry had spent years avoiding. They were kissing, their lips pressed together, captured in a moment of reckless abandon that Harry didn’t even fully remember. The headline was cruel: Harry Styles and Emily Ratajkowski—A New Romance in the Making?

His throat tightened as he scrolled through the photos, his mind racing. He didn’t remember kissing her. He didn’t remember anything about that night except the overwhelming sense of regret that now gripped him. He had ruined everything. The fragile thread holding him together seemed to snap in that moment. He had lost YN, and now the media would make sure the world knew it. His personal life was on full display, and all he could think about was how much he had fucked it all up.

Desperation began to rise in his chest, and without thinking, he began sending text after text to YN, each one filled with apologies, regret, and pleas for her to talk to him. But she didn’t answer. The silence on the other end was deafening.

Meanwhile, YN was in her parents’ house, sitting in the living room with the muted glow of the television casting long shadows across the room. The house, once a place of comfort and warmth, now felt suffocating. Her mother had been quiet ever since YN arrived, sensing the heavy tension in the air. She tried to comfort her daughter, offering tea, but YN couldn’t bring herself to care. The weight of the argument, of the harsh words Harry had said, sat heavily in her chest, gnawing at her.

But when the photos surfaced—when she saw Harry with Emily, their lips locked, the headlines flashing across her phone—her world shattered all over again. The room spun around her, and she felt like she was suffocating. The love she had poured into her relationship with Harry now felt like a cruel joke. She had trusted him. She had believed in him. And now this—this betrayal was too much to bear.

Tears blurred her vision, and she quickly turned away from her phone. Her mother noticed the change in her expression and asked softly, “YN, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I can’t do this,” YN whispered, choking on her tears. “I can’t keep doing this. I thought he loved me… but now… now I don’t know who he is anymore. It didn’t even take him a night to move on?”

Her mother hugged her tightly, murmuring comforting words, but YN couldn’t hear them. The pain of what she had seen—the public humiliation of it all—felt like a physical weight on her chest. She needed to get away. She needed to clear her head.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said, her voice distant, as if she were speaking to herself rather than her mother.

Her mother nodded, understanding the need for space, and watched as YN stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapping around her like a blanket.

The lake stretched out before her, calm and unbothered by the storm raging inside her. Its surface shimmered faintly under the overcast sky, the golden light of the fading afternoon barely breaking through the thick clouds. The familiar sight of it— the way the trees reflected on the water, the distant sound of birds, the rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore-should have brought YN the comfort she was seeking. But all it did was make her chest tighten with a suffocating ache.

She had always come to this place for solace, even as a child. The lake by her parents' house was her sanctuary, a space where the noise of the world couldn't touch her. But now, as she stood there, arms wrapped tightly around herself against the crisp autumn air, the silence was deafening. It wasn't peace she found here today. It was the echo of memories she had desperately tried to bury since she walked out of the home she had once shared with Harry.

Her boots crunched softly against the earth as she made her way closer to the water's edge, the damp grass soaking the hem of her dress. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faintest scent of pine and earth. But YN didn't notice. Her mind was far away, replaying a reel of memories she wished she could turn off. No matter how much she tried to focus on the present, her past with Harry came rushing back to her, vivid and bittersweet.

She crouched down near the shore, her fingertips brushing against the cool surface of the water. As ripples spread outward, her thoughts drifted to another time, another version of herself-a happier one. She closed her eyes, and it all came rushing back as if she were still there.

It had been a summer evening, the sun setting in brilliant hues of orange and pink.

Harry had been sitting on the dock, legs stretched out, his feet just barely skimming the water. YN had been lying beside him, her head resting on his thigh as they shared a bottle of wine they had stolen from her parents' pantry. The lake had been their escape that summer, a place where the chaos of Harry's career and the pressures of the world seemed to melt away.

"This place is magic," Harry had murmured, running his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. His voice had been low, almost reverent, as he looked out at the water.

YN had tilted her head to glance up at him, a smile tugging at her lips. "You always say that," she teased. "But you're not wrong."

He grinned, his dimple deepening as he looked down at her. "It's true, though. Don't you feel it? It's like... time stops here. Like nothing bad can touch us."

She had laughed softly, the sound blending with the gentle rustle of the trees.

"That's what l've always loved about this place. It's quiet. Peaceful. Away from everything."

Harry had hummed in agreement, his gaze softening as he studied her. "One day, YNN... one day l'd love to settle down somewhere like this. Away from the noise. Just us."

Her breath had caught at his words, her heart skipping a beat. "Just us?" she'd asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well," he'd added, his lips twitching into a playful smile, "maybe not just us. I'm thinking a couple of little ones running around, maybe a dog... or two."

YN's heart skipped at his words, her stomach flipping in that way it always did when he hinted at their future. She laughed, nudging him playfully. "Little ones, huh? You planning on starting a family with me already, Styles?"

Harry grinned, his dimple showing as he leaned closer, the teasing glint in his eyes softening into something deeper. "Why not? I mean it, YNN. I'd love that. A house by the lake. Waking up every morning with you by my side. Teaching our kids how to fish or swim or whatever it is people do out here. It sounds perfect."

Her breath caught as she looked at him, the sincerity in his words tugging at something deep within her. "It does," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It sounds perfect."

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "You're perfect," he murmured, and before she could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

The world had faded away then, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in a bubble of love and possibility.

“I wouldn’t want anything less than forever when it comes to you.”

His words had settled into her heart like a warm glow, and she had leaned in to kiss him, the taste of wine still lingering on his lips. In that moment, with the sun setting and the world quiet around them, she had believed him. She had believed in forever.

YN blinked, the memory dissolving as the present came crashing back. The lake was still, the air cold, and Harry wasn't there. Her chest ached as she stared at the dock, the image of them sitting there overlaying the reality of its emptiness. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his hand in hers, but it was all in her mind.

The betrayal burned anew, the image of him with Emily flashing behind her eyes.

How could he have said those things, painted that picture of their future, and then so carelessly let it all fall apart? How could he kiss someone else after everything they had shared?

How had they gone from that to this? How had the man who once promised her forever ended up kissing someone else? The image of Harry and Emily flashed in her mind again, sharper this time, and her stomach twisted. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trying to hold together the pieces of her heart that felt like they were falling apart.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. The life she had envisioned with Harry-the house by the lake, the little ones running around, the forever they had dreamed of-felt like a distant, unattainable dream. And yet, no matter how much she wanted to hate him, to shut him out completely, her heart wouldn't let her. She still loved him, even now, even after everything.

YN sank down onto the grass, her knees pulled to her chest, tears streaming freely now. She thought of the countless nights they had spent talking about their dreams, their plans. The way Harry had once made her feel so safe, so sure of their love. And now, it all felt like a cruel joke, a dream turned nightmare.

"Why, Harry?" she whispered into the stillness. "Why did you have to ruin everything?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

She let herself cry then, the sobs wracking her body as she finally allowed herself to feel the full weight of her heartbreak. The lake bore silent witness to her pain, its surface rippling gently as if trying to offer her some semblance of comfort.

The lake, once her sanctuary, now felt like a graveyard for their love.

When she returned to the house, her heart felt heavy, each step laden with the weight of everything she was feeling. But it wasn't the emptiness of the house that grabbed her attention; it was the faint sound-the small, deliberate taps against the window. At first, she thought it was the rain playing tricks on her, the gentle taps against the glass. But when she heard it again-sharp and insistent-her breath caught in her throat.

Her mind didn't even have time to process it fully. She spun toward the window, her heart pounding in her chest. And there he was.

Harry.

He stood in the pouring rain, his face pale, his hair clinging to his skin. His clothes were soaked through, and his hands trembled slightly as he threw small pebbles at the window, as if trying to wake her from a nightmare she couldn't escape. She stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Was this real? Was this the same man who had hurt her so badly?

But then, she saw it in his eyes-the desperation. The raw vulnerability. The silent plea for forgiveness that spoke louder than words ever could. He was standing there, drenched, with nothing left to lose. He was a broken man, and in that moment, she could see that he knew he had ruined everything.

Before she could stop herself, she ran to the down to the front door, threw it open, and without thinking, rushed outside into the rain.

The rain fell in torrents, its relentless downpour drowning out all sound except for the beat of water against the ground. Harry stood before YN, drenched, his eyes wide with desperate urgency, a look of raw pain etched into every line of his face. His clothes clung to his body, soaked through, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside of him.

“YN…” His voice broke, as if the weight of her name was too much to bear. His hand reached out shakily, desperate to bridge the gap between them, but she pulled away slightly. He flinched, not from her rejection, but from the weight of his own guilt that seemed to pull him lower with every passing second.

“I—” He took a breath, trying to steady himself, but his words tumbled out in a frantic rush. “I never meant for it to be this way. I never meant to hurt you, YNN. I swear, I never thought—God, I was so drunk, so damn stupid. I don’t even remember what happened, but I know I messed up. I know I messed everything up.”

YN’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt her, how much his words still stung like a constant ache in her soul. But instead, she stood there, her breath coming in ragged bursts, staring at him as he trembled in the rain. She wasn’t sure whether it was the cold of the storm or the pain inside him that made him shudder, but it was impossible to ignore the depth of his regret.

“You do remember, Harry,” she finally spoke, her voice shaking but strong. “You remember everything, even if you don’t remember that moment. You remember the things you said to me. You remember how you treated me. How you—” She stopped herself, not wanting to continue with the painful words. But the memory of his cutting tone, his dismissive words, echoed in her mind, taunting her, making her question everything they had ever shared. “I trusted you. I loved you. And you—you broke me.”

Harry’s eyes welled with unshed tears as he took a step toward her, this time not caring if she pulled away. He was beyond caring about the rain, beyond caring about anything except for the woman standing before him, the one person who had always been his everything.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, and she could see the raw vulnerability in his eyes. “I know I broke you. And that’s the worst part of it. I never wanted to hurt you. Not in a million years. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, YNN. You’re it for me, you always have been.” He reached for her again, but this time she didn’t pull away. His fingers brushed against hers, a tentative touch, as if he were afraid she might vanish the moment he let go.

“But I let my stupid insecurities, my stupid mistakes, cloud everything,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I’ve never been more scared of losing someone than I am of losing you, and I couldn’t see that until now. I couldn’t see that you are the one I need. That it’s not the fame, it’s not the tour, it’s not anyone or anything else—it’s you, YN. You’re the only thing that matters.”

The words hung in the air like fragile threads, each one trembling with a rawness that made YN’s heart ache in ways she didn’t think possible. The anger, the hurt—it was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but now there was something else too: hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all lost.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to push him away, wanted to shout at him for what he had done, but when she looked at him—really looked at him—there was something so devastatingly human about him, standing there, shaking in the rain. He was broken, but there was sincerity in his apology, a plea that reached her heart in ways his words never had before.

“You don’t even understand what you’ve done to me, Harry,” she said, her voice quivering as she took a step back. “You think it’s just about what happened with her, with Emily? It’s not. It’s about everything that led up to that moment. It’s about the words you said to me, the way you dismissed everything we had, everything I gave you. It’s about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough.”

Harry closed his eyes, a silent tear slipping down his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, YNN. I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t enough. You’re everything to me. I’ve been an idiot, and I know I’ve hurt you, but please… don’t let this be the end for us. I can’t lose you. I just can’t… live without you. I can’t.”

The storm raged around them, but the silence between them felt deafening, thick with the weight of everything unsaid, everything unresolved. YN could feel the anger still bubbling inside her, but she also felt the pull of something deeper—the love she had for him, the love that she had thought was gone, but now seemed to flicker in her chest like a fragile flame.

She wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt, but something inside her was giving way.

“Harry, I…” Her voice faltered, the words catching in her throat as her chest tightened painfully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you right now. I need time. I need space to figure this out.” She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes as the tears finally spilled over, mingling with the rain. “I don’t know if I can go back to who we were. You hurt me too much.”

He stepped forward again, his hand reaching for her, trembling with the force of his desperation. “Please, YN. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you all the space you need. I’ll be patient, I swear. I’ll wait as long as it takes. But don’t walk away from me. Please.”

She didn’t respond immediately. The storm had drowned out every thought, every hesitation in her mind, but there was still one thing she knew for certain: she couldn’t let him go. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. Not when her heart was still so tangled up in him, so unable to let go of the person he had once been to her.

“I need time,” she repeated softly, her voice barely audible against the pounding rain. “I need to think, Harry. Please, just… just go inside. I can’t—” She couldn’t finish the sentence, not without breaking apart completely.

Harry nodded, his face a picture of heartbreaking understanding. His heart was in pieces, but he was willing to wait, willing to do whatever it took to prove that he could make things right. Without another word, he turned toward the house, slowly, unwilling to leave her in the storm but knowing that he had to respect her need for space.

YN watched him go, her heart heavy in her chest, torn between love and hurt, between forgiveness and anger. The rain continued to pour, and as she stood there, feeling the cold seep into her bones, she wondered if they would ever find their way back to each other—or if this was the beginning of the end.

The night had felt like an eternity. Each minute stretched on, filled with haunting thoughts and the pounding rhythm of YNs heart. Her mind was tangled in knots, the anger still burning bright, but beneath it all, there was an undercurrent of something she couldn’t deny: the love she still had for Harry. It was the kind of love that had once felt so pure, so easy, but now felt fractured, jagged, like trying to hold onto a shattered glass piece that was bleeding into her heart.

She hadn’t been able to sleep. The past few days, the pain, the betrayal, the anger—it all swirled together in a mess that made her restless. Harry’s words from the night before—the desperate, raw apology—replayed over and over again in her mind, like a broken record. And yet, each time she thought of it, the hurt crept back in. She had tried to push it away, tried to convince herself that she could ignore it, but the reality was that she couldn’t. Not when the memories of their love, of their happy moments, still clung to her like the scent of his cologne.

But it wasn’t just the hurt she was feeling. There was something else, something deeper, something that felt too real to ignore. She couldn’t escape the way her heart still responded to Harry, no matter how hard she tried.

As the morning light began to filter through the windows, YN could no longer stay in the silence of her room. She had to see him. She had to confront everything that had happened and, maybe—just maybe—find a way to heal. But even as the desire to see him grew stronger, there was still that gnawing uncertainty. Could she really trust him again? Could she really forgive him for what had happened?

The house was quiet as she made her way down the stairs, the soft creak of the wooden steps echoing in the otherwise still air. The soft hum of the morning felt foreign against the heaviness that weighed on her shoulders, but she ignored it, pushing forward. When she stepped outside, the cold hit her like a rush, but it was nothing compared to the chill in her heart.

The lake was quiet, still as glass, the air thick with the faint scent of damp earth and fresh water. And there, sitting on the grass at the edge of the lake, was Harry. His posture was slumped, his shoulders drooped, as though the weight of the world was resting on him. The sight of him in this state, so broken and vulnerable, pulled at her heart in ways she couldn’t explain.

He looked so small, so lost.

For a moment, YN stood there, watching him. She wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. But as she watched him, she realized that she couldn’t stay away. Not anymore. She had to speak. She had to let him know how much he had hurt her, but also how much she still cared, despite everything.

Her footsteps were quiet on the soft earth as she made her way toward him. Harry didn’t look up immediately, but she could see the slight twitch of his head as if he felt her presence. His face was blank, his eyes staring out at the water, but there was something in the way he held himself that spoke volumes.

YN stopped just a few feet away, standing still as the silence stretched between them. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke. The tension was thick, palpable, like a heavy fog.

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. The silence, the uncertainty. She had to break it.

“I don’t even know where to start, Harry,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to protect herself from the rawness of the moment. “You hurt me. You really hurt me. And I don’t know if I can ever forget what you said to me. What you did to us.”

Harry flinched, as if each word she spoke cut through him. He finally lifted his head, his red-rimmed eyes meeting hers. There was guilt in those eyes, raw and undeniable. His voice came out barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry, YNN. I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to explain how much I regret everything. I was angry, and I was drunk, and I didn’t—” He cut himself off, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists at his sides. “I never meant to hurt you. Not like that. You’re everything to me, YNN. You always have been.”

YN took a deep breath, her chest tight with the conflicting emotions. She wanted to stay angry, to protect herself from the pain he’d caused, but she couldn’t deny that his words, his remorse, were hitting something deep inside her. It wasn’t enough to erase the hurt, but it was a start. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw how broken he was. He was a man who had made a mistake, but he was also a man who still cared for her.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to live in the hurt and the anger. I want to move past this, but I need to know that you’ll never do this again. I need to know that you’re willing to fight for us.”

Harry’s eyes welled up, the emotion overwhelming him. He reached out then, taking her hand gently, almost like he was afraid she might pull away. “I swear to you, YNN. I’ll fight for us. I’ll fight for you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. I’ll spend every single day proving to you that you’re worth more than anything, more than the stupid mistakes I’ve made. You mean everything to me.”

YN’s breath caught in her throat. It was impossible to ignore the depth of his words, the rawness in his voice. But it wasn’t just the words that got to her; it was the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he rarely showed anyone, let alone her.

She stepped closer to him, her heart pounding as she tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She had been so angry, so broken, but looking at him now, she realized that she couldn’t just walk away.

“I want to believe you, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I really do. But I need time. I need time to heal, to trust you again.”

Harry’s face softened, relief flooding through him. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, every step of the way. I’ll prove to you that I’m worth it. That we’re worth it.”

And in that moment, everything felt a little bit clearer. The storm inside her had not fully subsided, but the clouds were beginning to part, and the sun was starting to peek through. She stepped closer, closing the distance between them, and in one slow, careful motion, she placed her hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart under her palm was a reminder of how much he still cared.

“I’m willing to try,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m willing to try if you promise me that you’ll never let me go again.”

Harry’s eyes shone with tears, and he pulled her into his arms, his hands cupping her face gently as he kissed her forehead, his lips brushing softly over her skin. “I promise you, YNN. I’ll never let you go. You’re my everything. I love you.”

YN closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. She hadn’t been sure if she could forgive him, if she could ever move past the hurt. But standing here in his arms, feeling his heart beat against hers, she realized that love wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always simple. But it was worth fighting for.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion.

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them felt a little less heavy, a little less uncertain. The future was still unclear, but for the first time in a long time, they both had hope.

They’ll be alright.

[gridgamesgalore]

WOAH GUYS LOOK !! THE !!!!!

how would you feel if I told yuo that out of all the trans objects in my object project [ thag rhymes !!! ] the ones with the most dysphoria are sledgehammer and quinn .. ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

uh i dunno how to end thibs so have bob ♡♡♡ [ the purple thing is pipecleaner pawny ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎ ]

AHHH QUINN !!! Also also BOB!!! Explodes them with my mind explodes them with my mind explodes them with my mi💥💥💥

Uahj... Poor the.. Quinn 💔💔💔

[beargyu313]

Teach me all about your love language

It was supposed to be a chill night with friends and rosé, not you practically crying and begging Soobin to eat you out like he means it

Oops.

Tags: pussy eating, begging, desperation, cheating, forbidden romance, pussy drunk Soobin, hair pulling, some spanking,,, that’s it really

CW: the ending is kinda angsty :O

WC: 4.1k

A/N: Back with another TXT fic :),, this fic was inspired by my munch urges:( (hence all the begging hehe), hope everyone likes it<3

MDNI as always, this is a fictional work that is not representative of anyone mentioned in the story.

You don't know why you came to this hang out really. Soohyun said it would only be you and your other friend Karina. But of course she had to bring her boyfriend – Beomgyu. And since he was here Soohyun also decided to invite Kai, who she swears she isn’t crushing on, but you don’t believe her. And now you’re in your current predicament, fifth wheeling (?) and sitting on Soohyun’s couch in a dress that’s way too short and way too sexy to not even go out in. I mean really, if they wanted to go on a double date they should’ve just said so. But no, now you’re wasting a very sexy outfit by switching through the TV channels.

It's just past 9 p.m. and somehow you guys are already halfway through your second bottle of Rosé. The front door creaks open, and you barely look up, expecting maybe another friend of Beomgyu's or someone Soohyun forgot to mention. Instead, it’s him.

Soobin.

Your best friend's older brother, who hasn’t been around in months thanks to his new girlfriend who insists on spending every single minute with him. Disheveled hair, hoodie sleeves pushed up, car keys still in hand. He pauses in the doorway like he wasn’t expecting a full house. His eyes skim over the room, landing briefly on Beomgyu and Kai. His jaw ticks. And then

He sees you.

For a beat, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just looks. His gaze drops slowly and you can almost feel his touch on your exposed legs. Flustered, you slightly adjust yourself, crossing your legs over. You suddenly forget how to hold the remote. Or breathe.

“Didn’t know we were hosting tonight,” he says, voice low and dry. He glances at Soohyun, but his eyes flick back to you for a split second longer than they should.

Soohyun rolls her eyes from across the room. “It’s chill. Just a couple people.”

Soobin hums, noncommittal. Soobin hums, noncommittal. Then walks off toward the kitchen, tossing his keys onto the counter with a metallic clatter that makes Soohyun flinch.

She leans toward you a second later. “Ugh, he’s gonna say something. Come with me? Just in case he tries to act like Dad.”

You follow her, still gripping your cup, definitely not because you’re curious to see Soobin up close or whatever.

He doesn’t look up when you both step in. Just opens the fridge, grabs a water bottle, and unscrews the cap with one hand like he's annoyed it even exists.

“You know,” he says without looking at her, “I didn’t think you were the type to invite over a bunch of drunk guys while Mom and Dad are gone.”

Soohyun scoffs immediately. “Relax. Beomgyu’s with Karina, and Kai's the shyest person on earth. You act like I invited the whole frat house.”

Soobin finally turns to face her, but his eyes flick to you. And this time, he lets them stay for a second too long.

He tilts his head slightly, still speaking to Soohyun, but his gaze is on you when he says, “Still, you know how guys are. Anything could happen.”

“Soobin, chill,” you say, voice lighter than you feel. “Besides, I don’t think anything stupid's gonna happen.”

Soobin finally looks away, smiling faintly like he knows you’re lying.

“Sure,” he says. “If you say so.” And with that he leaves you guys, going upstairs. You swallow down the urge to follow him up. Seeing him and speaking to him after having not seen him for months, has made you realize just how much you missed him. It's not like you have a crush or anything, but the tension between you two always seems to build whenever you're left alone. Which isn't often and is even less often now that he has a girlfriend.

It's probably for the best that you haven't seen him, you should avoid him really, lest you embarrass yourself. And with that thought you pour yourself another glass of rosé, and begrudgingly return to the living room.

You do your best to shake it off, his voice, that look. But it lingers in your head like the rosé warming your throat. You try not to read into it. Like you always do. Always think he means something more when he talks to you like that, stares at you like that. You wish it didn’t make your heart race.

Back in the living room, Soohyun’s laughing too loud at something Beomgyu said, Karina’s half-asleep on the carpet, and you’re once again stuck hugging your drink like a lifeline. You scroll mindlessly on your phone, legs tucked under you, pretending not to check the hallway every few minutes.

And then you hear them. Footsteps.

Soobin’s coming back downstairs, his hair damp now, like he just stepped out of a quick shower. He’s in a black hoodie and gray sweats. Looking casual yet it doesn’t stop you from clenching your thighs together. You look up right as he passes the living room entrance and that’s when it happens.

His eyes catch yours. Linger.

It’s subtle, almost nothing. But he rakes his gaze over you slowly, like he’s cataloging everything you’re wearing. Bare legs, glossed lips, the way your top hugs your chest when you shift to sit up straighter. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t nod. Just looks. And keeps walking toward the kitchen again.

You hesitate. But your legs move before you can stop them.

You follow him into the kitchen, again.

When you step into the kitchen, he’s got the fridge open, looking like he’s deciding on another soda. He glances over his shoulder at you without turning fully around. “You run out of wine already?”

You shrug. “Something like that.”

His eyes flick down to your legs again, then back to your face. You lean against the counter across from him, sip slowly from your cup, and cock your head.

“Your girlfriend must be blind if she let you walk around like that.” For a moment, silence. No smile. No teasing comeback. Just his eyes on you.

“You think she’d care,” he says, low and even, “if I let you look instead?”

You think your brain shortcuts in that moment, and now all you can hear is the if I let you look instead? looping in your skull. You laugh but it comes out too soft, too breathy.

“I didn’t say I was looking,” you say, voice almost convincing. Soobin raises an eyebrow, then shuts the fridge. “Right. Just happened to follow me in here. Twice.”

You open your mouth. Close it again. God, he’s annoying. And right.

He leans back against the counter now, beer bottle dangling loosely from his hand. There’s something unreadable in his expression, like he’s sizing you up. Not in a gross way. In a curious way. Like he’s finally trying to figure out if you’re really as innocent as you pretend to be.

Or if he’s safe to keep playing with fire. If his sister potentially finding out is worth having this moment with you.

“I thought you weren’t staying here anymore,” you say after a second, desperate to shift the energy even a little. “Soohyun said you practically live at your girlfriend’s place now.”

His mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. “Yeah, well.”

You raise your brows, waiting. He shrugs. “She’s been... weird lately.” That’s all he gives you. No dramatic explanation. Just a tired, half-hearted answer, like he doesn’t really want to talk about it but doesn’t want to lie either.

“So... you’re fighting?”

He snorts, then drinks. “We’re always fighting.”

Your stomach flips at that. You shouldn’t care. You really shouldn’t care. But it suddenly feels like a door cracked open, even just a little. And Soobin seems to note the subtle shift in you demeanor.

He glances at you again. “Why? You worried I’m off-limits?”

You take a sip, eyes locked with his over the rim of your glass. “You were never on limits.”

Soobin smiles really smiles this time and it’s so devastatingly smug you want to smack it off his face. Or kiss it.

“You’re cute when you lie,” he says quietly. “Terrible at it. But cute.”

He steps closer. Not much, but it’s close enough that you can smell the soft scent of his shampoo, boyish but with undertones of something more, something that makes you dizzy.

You don’t move.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur, eyes dropping to his mouth.

He lets out a quiet laugh. “Like what?”

You glance back up, all wide-eyed and flushed and still pretending to play it cool. “Like you know what I’m thinking.”

“I do.”

You open your mouth to deny it, but he tilts his head slightly, and that shuts you up real fast. Soobin’s voice lowers. “You’ve been looking at me all night.”

You swallow. He can see you trying not to react. “That’s not true.”

Soobin always thought you’ve always been cute when you lie. But this? The way you’re looking at him now, like you don’t want him to notice the way your thighs press together when he leans in, like your pulse isn’t visible in your neck, this is something else entirely. He’s never seen you quite this wanting and needy before, and it’s beyond exhilarating. Addicting even.

You’re flustered, and Soobin likes that. He likes the soft bite of your lip, the nervous way you tuck your hair behind your ear like you’re not trying to draw attention to yourself. Like he hasn’t been looking at your legs since the moment he walked in.

You try to speak, say something but he doesn’t even register what. It’s background noise to how hot you look, pressed up against the counter in that skirt, pretending like you’re not dying for him to touch you.

“Right. Just coincidence that every time I turn around, you’re staring at my mouth?”

You blink, caught.

God, you’re so easy to read. It’s cute, really. Dangerous. But cute. And he should walk away. He knows he should. You’re his sister’s friend. He has a girlfriend. But none of that really feels important when you’re right in front of him like this, pupils blown wide, breathing like you’ve just run a mile, practically trembling in that tiny little outfit like you want him to wreck you right here.

He watches you for a moment longer. Lets the silence stretch just enough to make you nervous. Then he leans close enough that you can feel his breath. He still hasn’t even touched you and that makes you on edge, anticipating his touch. You struggle to even your breath, but you know he notices the way your eyes can’t meet his intense gaze.

“We haven’t fucked in weeks,” he says, voice soft, confessional. “Always some excuse. Too tired. Not in the mood.” Your eyes flick up, searching his face.

“And I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want it,” he goes on. “How badly I want to taste someone again. Someone cute, someone who needs guidance, needs it just as badly as I do.”

You gasp involuntary, and it shoots straight through him.

He continues, slight smirk on his face as he leans in, lips almost touching, “I could eat it for hours,” he murmurs. “If you asked me to, it’s not cheating,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “Not if I don’t fuck you.”

He watches your lips part, the hesitation flickering behind your eyes like a dying match. You want to say something. Maybe a protest. Maybe a plea.

“All focus would be on you,” he says, voice dipped in honey and sin. “Your pleasure. That’s all this would be. Just me helping you scratch that itch you can’t quite reach.” His gaze drops, slow and deliberate. “I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already trembling.”

A beat passes. Then another. Your breath shudders in your chest.

“It’s cute, actually,” he adds, eyes flicking up to meet yours again. “Really makes me wanna help you feel good. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

Your brain is fogged, every thought slipping through your fingers like smoke. You look up at him, helpless. Instinct takes over before sense can catch up. And Soobin smiles. Soft, knowing, cruel. He can see what you're fighting. The need in your eyes, the slight part of your lips. He wonders how you’ll look when that control finally breaks, flushed, eyes glassy, mouth slack.

You speak, finally, but even your voice betrays you. “We shouldn’t do this, Soobin,” you whisper. “Soohyun’s gonna kill me. And your girlfriend— I really should leave.”

You try to step away, but he doesn’t budge. His tall frame shadows yours, blocking the exit like a decision you don’t want to make.

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” he murmurs. “You’re just letting me help you feel good.”

Then he leans in, fingers brushing against your hip, just enough pressure to make your skin twitch under his touch. Just enough to remind you how close he is. How much closer he could be.

“You want me to show you?” he says, voice a whisper against your ear. “What it feels like… when someone actually gives a fuck about your pleasure?”

You nod. Soobin pulls back, looking down at you as if trying to intimidate you.

“Use your words, baby.”

You swallow hard. “Yes.”

His brow lifts, unimpressed. “I think you can do better than that.”

Your stomach flips. His voice is calm, soft and annoyingly patient. A small part of you feels humiliated, begging your best friend’s brother to fuck you. But you stifle that feeling.

Your lips are in a subconscious pout as you look up at him, chest heaving and back arching, “Soobin, please,” you say, “I promise I’ll be good, just please-“

He steps back, his gaze unreadable. You actually whine.

“Come on.” His voice is quieter now, low and direct. “My room.”

You follow. You don’t even hesitate. Every step feels like your skin is buzzing, and when he opens the door and lets you in first, you nearly trip over yourself trying to get inside.

It’s what you expected his room to look like. Neat and minimal. No lights on except the glow from the hallway spilling in.

He closes the door behind you, slow and quiet, like he’s sealing something in.

“You always listen this well?” he asks, voice smooth and low.

You manage a shaky breath. “Only when it's you.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s nothing kind about it, you almost feel like he’s mocking you.

“Didn’t take you for the type,” he says, stepping closer. “But I guess I’ve got you figured out now, huh?”

You stare up at him, throat dry. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He tilts his head, eyes raking over you, voice dropping. “No? Then why do you look like you’re about to fall apart, and I haven’t even laid a hand on you yet?”

Then he does, his big hands softly cupping your waist, bringing you close to him. Your legs wobble. He kisses you softly, you quietly moan into the kiss already wanting more. Your hands tangle in his hair, chest touching his. His hands travel over the curve of your ass, reaching the short hem of your skirt. You gasp when his nails rake over the plush skin, bunching the skirt around your waist.

Soobin lands a firm slap to your buttcheck and the sting makes you ache even more. You gasp, basking in the sensation.

You’ve never felt this needy, this horny from a single kiss. You feel tears prick at your eyes, the ache in your core becoming too much. You try to subtly rub your legs together, trying to find a way to relieve this pressure.

And Soobin must notice, because he finally, finally reaches out exactly where you need him. His hands are grasping your ass, slowly inching together and pulling the flesh. First stretching the skin and then pushing your ass checks together. The sensation feels amazing on your cunt, the slight pressure and dirtiness of it making you whine.

You push your ass out, further pushing yourself into Soobin’s big hands.

“Good girl,” he breathes. “Just like that.”

Soobin kisses you slowly, almost indulgently, as if savoring the tension more than your lips. His hands skim over your waist, your hips, down to your thighs.

“Lay down Babygirl,” he tells you and you listen. You lay back against his pillow, skirt bunched up around your waist, and while he settles himself between your legs. You watch him, watch you when he reaches towards the pillow you’re laying your head on.

You lift your head up, allowing him to take it from you.

“Lift your hips,” he says and you oblige. Soobin puts the pillow underneath your hips and then he’s back to laying down between your hips.

“You look so pretty like this,” he tells you, voice deep and eyes dark, piercing. His hands caress your inner thighs. The light touch makes goosebumps rise on your skin and you shudder when he gently with barely any pressure brushes over your clothed lips.

"You're soaked through," he murmurs, voice low. With his middle finger he starts applying more pressure on your pussy, moving it over your clit with an unhurried pace.

“I can already tell you’re gonna taste so good, you smell so good,” he says, nuzzling his nose into your wanting sex. Your breath shudders out, “Soobin…”

“Soobine,” you whine, your hand reaches for his soft locks gently tugging, “stop being a tease,” you gasp.

He lifts himself up just enough so he can pull off your lacy panties. He sharply inhales when he takes them off, eyes fixed on your glistening pussy. You don’t notice him putting them in his front pocket.

You’re both breathing heavily and the dark and hungry look in his eyes doesn’t escape. Instead you try your best to memorize it for later.

He leans down to your inner thigh, lips grazing higher this time. Then his teeth catch the tender flesh of your inner thigh and he suckles in. Right below where you actually need him.

“Please,” you gasp, your voice cracking embarrassingly. But you’re too far gone to care.

“If I start, I’m not stopping until you’re shaking,” he says, voice heavy and lower than you’re used to hearing.

“Please, Soobin, please I don’t care—”

He hums against your skin. “God, you’re needy, aren’t you?” He kisses closer, closer. “Begging me like this… and I haven’t even touched you properly yet, I think I like like listening to you whine too much to give you what you want,” he teases, fingers exploring your pretty pussy, noting how the slightest pressure makes you hump into his fingers that are drawing circles onto your labia. He prods around your entrance and you can feel the wetness trickling down his fingers.

“Pleasepleaseplease-“ you beg, before he finally, finally tastes you. He starts off infuriatingly slow, flat tongue experimentally licking a couple of short licks.

You moan into his touch, arching your back into the pillow sitting under your ass. Soobin wraps his arms around you from underneath your thighs pressing his face onto your gushy pussy.

“You look so pretty like this, falling apart for me.”

Once used to the feeling of his flat tongue going over your clit he lightly sucks, groaning when you rub yourself against him. He pauses to kiss my thigh, adjusting it over his shoulder before his lips are back on me.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he says and the admission flusters you, you never could of imagined your fantasies actually materializing. You moan out loud when he sucks on your clit, tongue latching onto you. His middle finger is applying pressure around your hole, not sliding it in but rubbing all around it.

You try to stop the loud noises coming out, your hand on your mouth. Soobin  notices, “It’s okay, be loud. I want to hear everything.”

You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, “what about the others-“ you start, but the thought dies on your tongue when he flattens his tongue just right and you cry out, hands flying to his hair. “S-Soobin—oh my god—”

He can tell you’re getting close, flicking his tongue over your clit whilst slightly suckling on your clit. The feeling mixed with him pushing two fingers just past your entrance, one knuckle deep is enough to bring you closer to climax.

You practically hump his mouth, pushing his fingers in and out of you just he way you like it.

You gasp out before holding your breath in, “that’s my good girl,” Soobin mumbles pushing his two fingers fully into you. He hooks them, feeling around your velvety walls when you cum. Your walls pulsating against his fingers and you can feel him moan. He licks you clean, letting you come down.

You feel like your pussy is actually buzzing and pulsating and when you look down and see Soobin looking up between your legs you feel close again.

You whine, dropping back on bed when Soobin sharply sucks on you again, fingers moving in and out of you at a fast pace.

“C’mon sweetie, I know you can give me another,” he says, experimentally sucking on your clit in short, sharp intervals. The pleasure is so intense you feel tears building up in your eyes.

Soobin notices the glassy look in your eyes, and you feel him smirk against you. “Cry all you want. I’m not stopping till your thighs are shaking.”

And he keeps to that promise, ravaging you like a starved man until you’re gasping, pleading for mercy.

““I—I don’t know, I can’t think—just don’t stop, please…” You don’t even process what you’re saying when you feel your second orgasm building.

“Fuck, don’t stop Soobie, oh my god,” you moan through tears.

Your whole body stills, the intensity of the orgasm rendering you frozen. You don’t even realize your leg locked Soobin into you and he doesn’t seem to mind either. Patiently waiting for you to come down.

The room is quiet except for your breathing. Harsh, ragged, uneven. You’re still shaking slightly when he finally pulls away, resting his forehead lightly against your thigh before sitting back.

He doesn’t speak for a long moment. You keep staring at the ceiling, blinking away the tears still clinging to your lashes.

Then, quietly, “You okay?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “I think so.”

He brushes your calf with the back of his hand, gentle. “You were perfect.” You don’t say anything.

Soobin stands and disappears for a second. He comes back with a warm towel and helps clean you up, careful and wordless, as if to fill the silence with kindness instead of apologies.

Once he’s done, he lays beside you, careful not to touch you. He’s just… there, it’s starting to get awkward, so you force yourself to speak.

“I didn’t plan for this to happen,” you say, your voice nearly gone.

“I know.”

“But I wanted it.”

“I know,” he repeats, softer now. “Me too.”

You finally glance over. His eyes are on the ceiling, jaw tight like he’s holding back more than he’s saying. “I’m not gonna pretend this doesn’t make things messy,” you whisper.

He turns to face you now, leaning on one arm. “Messy’s better than pretending I don’t want you.”

You bite your lip, look away. “She’s going to hate me.”

“I don’t care.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not. But you’re worth it.”

Your breath catches. You want to believe him. But guilt creeps up your throat like bile, “I feel like a bad person,” you admit.

Soobin shifts closer now, just enough for his hand to brush yours. “You’re not. You’re not bad. You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever touched, ever tasted.”

You shut your eyes. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll believe them.”

He’s silent for a beat. Then quietly, honestly he says, “then believe them. Because they’re true.”

You exhale shakily, caught between wanting to stay and knowing you probably shouldn’t.

“I should go,” you whisper.

Soobin doesn’t try to stop you. But when you sit up, he gently pulls your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss into your wrist.

“I’ll still think about this,” he murmurs. “About you.”

And as you slip quietly out of his room heart racing, stomach twisted, you already know you’ll be thinking about him too.

[eumppattv]

OOPS, IV’E FALLEN IN LOVE | enha ft. hybe game caterers

enhypen falling in love with you during hybe game caterers

pairing ot7 x idol!reader genre ᩍ fluff, love at first sight warnings ꕁ none ➜ masterlist enha permanent taglist here! a/n: requests are open :)

heeseung ☆ ⊹ ๑

you stepped up, handing heeseung the microphone. you had expressed how you admired him as a vocalist, and that was enough for him to join you in the duet. the goal was for you to get a perfect score in the karaoke machine, and he was determined to make it happen. he was so focused on his part, until he heard your voice. it was like a siren, pulling him in until he couldn’t remember where he was standing. after you finished your line, he just started at you. the mc said something about heeseung forgetting his line, but he was too focused on you to hear. he just wanted to hear your voice again.

jay ☆ ⊹ ๑

jay was totally messing up. he had a song blasting in his ears, and was desperately trying to concentrate on your lips. you were saying something, but he couldn’t decipher it. then it happened; you smiled at him. let’s just say he forgot about the game right then and there. you were laughing because no matter how much you slowed down you speech, he still could not guess the word. but now your laughing had him flustered, the tips of his ears turning red. he didn’t care how long the game would take because of his confusion- he just wanted to see you smile at him again.

jake ☆ ⊹ ๑

jake had never met anyone as competitive as him. you were on the field for the soccer portion of the day. you ran up on the field, cheering your team on. then you were called as team captain to walk up to enhypen captain, jake. now face to face, you were asked about your strategy for the game. you replied that there was no strategy because you were just that good. that made jake laugh, and he gave a cocky reply back. throughout the game, there was some banter between you two, until finally your team came out victorious. you stuck your tongue out at jake, and he laughed. he did not stop talking about you to the boys when they returned to their table.

sunghoon ☆ ⊹ ๑

we all know the moment in the last game caterers, where sunghoon forgot eunchae’s name and had to look at her name tag. so this year, they decided to make a game specifically for him: name that idol. there were 5 idols in line, with you being at the end. your name tags were off, the goal being for sunghoon to go down the line and name each one of you. of course he went down the line, giving them different names or just simply giving up on even giving them names. then he got to you, and to everyone surprise- he knew your name. truth is he had been watching you throughout the day, and had learned your name easily. you were definitely special in his eyes.

sunoo ☆ ⊹ ๑

sunoo was tired, and incredibly hungry. as he ran the last lap, he felt a breeze pass by- followed by high pitch cheering. you had won, which meant you would be getting all the food for your team, including the mint chocolate ice cream. he quietly made his way back to the members, sitting down in his chair. his stomach growled, as he put his head down on the table. suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he sprung up in surprise. there you were, with a plate of food and a sweet smile. and there he was, heart full, eating his food while staring at you from across the field.

jungwon ☆ ⊹ ๑

they wanted to do a martial arts segment in this years game caterers. of course jungwon was a part of the event, but little did he know he would go up another martial artist turned idol; you. at first he was a little hesitant, talking to the host about how he didn’t want to hurt you. well, one thing to to another, and here he was. flipped onto the ground, you on top of him with the biggest smirk playing on your face. he was shocked to say the least, but seeing you beat him sparked his interest in you. by the end of the day, he was head over heels. he liked that you were strong, and he was looking forward to seeing you around.

ni-ki ☆ ⊹ ๑

it was the last round of random play dance. only two idols remained, both being the main dancers in their groups. you and ni-ki stepped up, your bodies moving to the familiar beat. suddenly, ni-ki froze up, forgetting the next move. he glanced over to you, hoping you hadn’t made the same mistake. instead he found you dancing your heart out, as if the song belonged to your group. anyone could see the hearts in his eyes. he hadn’t paid much attention to you or anyone during the day, but now he couldn’t look away from you. he had never seen anyone move so elegantly, and look so beautiful.

🝮 taglist open!

@avocarua @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @lilly-bubblelops @aishigrey @gweoriz @soul-is-a-strange-kid @dior-girlie @gigification

[ari-writist]

ROMANCE WITH ZORO

[headcanon] PRE TIMESKIP

• Zoro is someone who dreams to be the greatest swordsman, we all know that. Achieving romance with zoro is unlikely given that he is focused on his goal, but if, for some unexplained reason, this guy actually managed to get in his brain that he's in love, I think this is how it would go.

• Zoro is more of an action type rather than verbal, so he would show you that he cares in action. Through body language, maybe like, standing close to you without realizing it, offering you water or food without comment, or looking away when you catch him staring.

• Even though he likes you, he might not get into a relationship with you so it'll all just be unspoken tension between you two. (I love you but I can't. Why not? Ahhh)

• He might train himself more and avoid you, because if he gives in, he's going to lose sight of his goal — he's gonna be in denial. Also, he'd be mad at you, at himself, at the world because you’re now a distraction — a distraction with soft eyes and a laugh that echoes in his head while he’s trying to train.

• But he'd train harder, push himself more, and sleep less, because if he can just be strong enough — maybe he won’t need to choose between you and his dream.

• He'd avoid you, just not in an obvious way, he'd just always be somewhere else, and if you ask him why, he’ll grunt and say, “Got stuff to do.”

• He thinks about telling you once. But whenever he opens his mouth, the words taste like betrayal so he swallows them with sake and silence.

• Eventually, he would just stay in one place once he sees your down casted face every time he goes somewhere else if you're around, but he wouldn't actively seek for you, if you did for him then this man is not going to move from his place. He would just listen to you talk, or do whatever you want to do by his side.

• He would always be looking at you. His eyes would trail on where you once were if you were to disappear and if you manage to catch his eyes he would either close them to pretend like he's taking a nap or he would look away out in the distant sea.

• But why wouldn't he let himself love you? It's because he thinks that love will weaken him. That if he lets himself fall, he’ll lose the drive to stand back up. That if he chooses you, he'd be failing Kuina, his promise, his vow.

• Also because he believes he doesn’t deserve you yet. He thinks you deserve someone who can give you a future, not a man chasing ghosts with a sword on his back.

• But zoro isn't stubborn. No, no, he's terrified. Because once he lets himself love you, it won't be halfway — it will never be — it will be everything. And you’re the only thing in this world more dangerous than Mihawk’s blade.

--

IM GETTING THE HANG OF THIS. Anyways, as alwaysz this one is kind of rushed, wanted to get it all out of my head first. But when I read it, I thought it was good enough so I'll just post it and possibly edit it again when I wake up when I realize that omg wrong grammar, yeah when that hits me. Anyways, hope you guys had fun reading this.

Spoiler alert, I'm actually writing a short fic about this. Idk how to write angst properly — oops? Wasn't supposed to say that.

I WAS ABOUT TO SLEEP TIGHT WHEN I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS GAH

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