#like miss girl WHAT is going on in there !!!! i hate this !!!!

[prael]

Day 12: Three Shades of Sin

Le Sserafim Kazuha & Yunjin & TripleS Xinyu

words: 11,736 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

Look, you know this story starts with the way Xinyu has her fingers threaded beneath Kazuha's jaw, her lipstick smeared off in bits and pieces, but that’s not actually how it ends. It’s a slow descent; watching your girlfriend kiss someone new is a beautiful disaster that never really loses its lustre, and the truth is, there’s no moral at the end of this tale - the closest you’ll get to something cathartic is this:

Yunjin grinning at you, sunshine-bright and wickedly gorgeous. “You gonna invite us in, or what?”

-

First things first: the bar is packed - oh, it's always packed - but especially so on the nights when Kazuha performs. It's not a burlesque club, not really; in theory, it's not all that much more than an upscale lounge for yuppies with more money than they need, trying to pretend they're living sophisticated lives with a splash of debauchery on the side.

It's packed, obviously, because they're getting a little more debauchery than expected tonight - but all the familiar faces are there: the grad-school crowd who treat this club like the neighbourhood dive bar; the pretentious A-list types who claim to hate this kind of thing but always seem to show up anyway; the trust-fund kids and their vices and habits; the semi-locals, like you. They’re the mainstay: you know their drink orders, what they’re into, whether you’ve gone home with them before. You know who is dating who. Who's got a looser distinction between romance and just fooling around. Who got fired. Who's always fucked up beyond all help. You know the girl sitting at the end of the bar nursing a cosmo and waiting for you, alone.

She'd come to see Kazuha perform like everyone else.

"You missed my boyfriend," Xinyu says to you, just shy of winking. She looks beautiful - she always does, of course, but this time: she's wearing black leggings and a crop top that shows off the cut of her waist, her toned abs. The skirt is so small it's basically an accessory to how she's got her dark hair pinned up into something half-bedroom, half-backstage-chic, hoop earrings that dangle just above the slope of her neck.

"Did I?" you reply, coy. It's not flirting - or maybe it is, you're not sure.

She tips her head, cheek resting delicately on her knuckles. You end up staring at her mouth; the words coquettish and prurient and absolutely, unquestionably fuckable are swirling around your brain. "Yep," she says, and her lips curve beautifully. "You did."

Xinyu turning up the dial until she's impossible to resist is pretty much standard-operating-procedure here- it's sort of like this place runs through her blood. She's claimed ownership of it for herself.

"It's too bad," she says, drumming acrylics on the countertop. She shoots you a look that's all bedroom eyes: that drowsy, liquid-lidded kind of want that tells you she'd have her head tilted back against your pillows in less than a few minutes if you asked. "I think you would've really gotten along."

"Guess I'll just have to settle for his girlfriend." You lean closer to her, conspiratorial. "This is fun. What else are we doing tonight?"

"Oh, yeah, you know." She stretches long and languid, satisfied. "Same as usual." That means dancing - some partying, probably lots of drinking, flirting. You're going to take her home and pin her wrists to the pillow above her head. You don't mind any of that - it's become your life, these last months, too. You know the routine here like you've known it for years.

"Want something to drink?" you ask her, and Xinyu considers you. Like she's going to pounce.

"Not really," she says, and then her chin fits into the dip between her thumb and pointer finger. You get closer. "Think I'm thirsty for something else." There's nothing left of the distance between you, and you're not kissing her yet, not yet - but the tension is making a point of shuddering and cracking.

All that promise of something more.

"Don't let this go to your head, but." Xinyu reaches out a hand. You play into the script; you take it and bring her knuckles to your lips. Her wrist smells like the perfume you bought her a Christmas ago. You kiss there, too - for a split second. "I love my boyfriend. He's great." Your eyes dart to hers again - she's always watching, waiting for the attention to come back her way. "But sometimes girls just hit differently, right?"

"See anyone in particular?" you say, still nonchalant, while Xinyu hooks a fingertip onto the neckline of your shirt.

"Oh," says Xinyu. Her grin is devilish, dangerous: like she'd carve right through your throat. "That's cute of you. Like, you really wanna know, hm? I have a list."

"How long is it?" You raise an eyebrow, feign boredom. She likes the challenge.

"Depends on the night."

"But I'm at the top," you continue, unabashed - your usual brand of charming. "Right?"

Xinyu laughs; it's a delight, musical and precious. You'd listen to it for hours if you could.

"You already know, honey." Her nails skim your neck; they catch in your hair. The strands fall over the silver around her fingers. "Top of my list, and everyone else's, too."

"Nope." You lean even further over the bar, stealing the inches, taking them for your own. "Not tonight."

"I don't share." Xinyu taps your nose, prim, smirking. Her eyes are shining, brimming with energy - you can't look away from her. She's intoxicating. She's beautiful. "He wouldn't like that anyway."

"Oh, come on. That sounds like a 'him' problem. Right?"

There's a raucous chorus of laughter from across the floor: people coming in from the cold, wanting to see the show, see a gorgeous girl in next-to-nothing strut her stuff up onstage. You watch as Xinyu's eyelashes flutter, delighted - she's waiting for something to begin; this is a ritual that repeats, the fervour starting low and ending high.

And it starts, and it ends, always, with you looking at her.

"We'll see," sings Xinyu, and she twirls on her stool, one leg neatly hooked over the other. The bar erupts into thunderous applause - the lights dim, and Kazuha emerges onstage.

-

See, the club isn't normally about stripteases - sure, some girls dance - but this is still a place with bottle service and $18 cocktails, not one where dancers make a show of stripping out of their lingerie. And it's not like you care much for how people try to make themselves seem better than they are, really: if you wanna be trashy, fine. If you want to keep up appearances, put on some kind of show like you're worth a dime more than anyone else out there, great, fine, do that. This place may be the latter, but in the end, it's all the same; everything falls apart once the night sets in. Everything stays messy, no matter which box you paint yourself into.

That's a long preface to say: you're just not expecting her in the slightest.

To be honest, most nights aren't all that exciting - there are people to remember, drinks to mix up, tabs to close and mouths to kiss, sometimes - but mostly, there's not a lot worth mentioning. When people come into the bar - the people who are new, the people who think that this is an opportunity for the night to turn interesting - you look up, size them up, wonder who they're going home with, if you're interested at all. More often than not, it's none of the above.

"Hi," says the new face as she slides up to you on the stool. Well, okay, so this part is different.

Xinyu stepped out earlier - said she had someone else to find, said you'd probably like who she had in mind, but whatever. You'll see when you see. You're not picky. You were ready to dick around on your phone until your girlfriend figured out which plaything you were both in the mood for tonight - you're not opposed to another addition, not at all - but then-

Then the girl sits at the bar, leans on her elbows over the polished surface. Rakes her fingers through the wisps of dark hair at her forehead, pushes it back, and -

And meets your gaze dead on, and doesn't break it. Not even a bit.

Okay - so, she's blindingly, impossibly stunning. A textbook fucking ten.

"Hi," she says again, firmer, like she knows what you're thinking. "Do they serve anything here that isn't blue or tastes like putting your tongue to a nine-volt?"

It's such a shockingly mild opener that you immediately laugh at her. It just spills right out of you.

"Yeah," you say, leaning against the bar, mildly amused. You call over the bartender, order in duplicate - you're pretty sure that's how this works, you have to get the drink in front of her, not even mention it, just let her know that you're calling the shots here - and then fix her with another look, eyebrows quirked. "New in town?" you ask. Small talk. Sure.

"No," she replies, "just new in here." She tosses her silky red hair over her shoulder. Reveals the halter-neck of her blouse and the deepness of the dip. Her collarbones are out. You barely even notice. "Also," she continues, "this place is a fucking zoo."

There's no patience to her. She's harsh, no filter. Your drinks arrive, and she hardly reacts when they do.

"It's a bit crowded." You're trying somewhat to stay diplomatic. "It's the girl on stage," you offer, and you gesture vaguely towards Kazuha's figure: long legs and curves in all the right places, raven-black hair falling to her waist. Everyone looks at her like she's a gift sent down from heaven. She's dressed in something gold, sequin, and she knows that they're pretty much right.

"Well, I guess that explains it."

"Everyone's hoping she'll take off more clothes." You shrug your shoulders at your new companion. "But she never does, so I'm not quite sure why everyone thinks tonight will be the exception."

"No shit," the girl drawls, her tone entirely blasé - she's so painfully disaffected, the disinterested, entitled type; your heart skips a beat. "No offence to you, man, but I think most of the guys here are either idiots or creeps." The redhead wrinkles her nose. "Or both."

"A fair assessment, honestly," you muse. Sip your drink. It's bitter. She hasn't touched hers. "You think I'm any different?"

The corner of her mouth ticks up. "No," she says.

The room seems to tilt sideways, and everything gets fuzzy: it feels like you're supposed to be talking in code or perhaps just reading between lines - there's a whole secret conversation happening beneath this surface-level, meaningless banter. You're making contact, making plans. She knows where this is going. You're right there with her.

"The girl up there is cute," the redhead says after a while, thoughtful. "What's your deal with her? How come you haven't turned into one of the animals in the horde yet?"

It's an obvious line of questioning.

"She's nice," you admit, "but I've already got something good going with someone. No need to push my luck with anyone else."

At this, she raises an eyebrow, curious, cautious, wary. "Nice, how?"

"I mean, she's beautiful," you say, "very pretty." Easy things. Surface things. These things anyone could list off. "Cute voice."

"Nothing in particular, though, huh." Her eyes flick back to the performer onstage - Kazuha's walking the catwalk, kicking her heel out at the men closest to her; her skirt rides up, and everyone goes absolutely wild for it - and then returns her focus to you. "Not your type?"

You've been in this seat - or one just like it, at least - watching Kazuha's ass onstage for countless nights. You're well aware of her appeal, but you can't figure out a harmless way to say your mind is giving you three images of a palm-print burning across the same expanse of skin at any given moment.

You shrug, ambivalence feigned. "I guess not."

"It's funny." She props her chin on her palm, her nail polish glittering against her jawline. She's barely touched her drink. "The girl's normally such a doll, right? Kind of girlish. Could barely hold a conversation with a boy when I met her. And now she's all that. On stage."

"Hmm," you reply, like you can't imagine it. "Is that right?"

"Oh yeah," she tells you, half-smiling. Her lipstick leaves marks on the glass as she takes her first sip. "Years of ballet school will do that to a girl. Though maybe something about performing just became second nature."

"Explains the legs," you mutter, feeling the look she levels with you; dangerous. "And the gracefulness," you amend quickly. She raises an eyebrow at you, and you raise one right back; it's a power struggle, and when her fingers curl across her chin, you almost choke on nothing.

"Legs and grace," she says. "That's about it for her, huh?"

You nod, your voice quiet, soft.

"How do you know her?" you ask gently.

"Oh, honey," she croons. Her face is halfway to laughter, mirth perched like a threat in her voice. She puts a palm flat on the counter and slides it forward so her manicure scrapes at the varnish. Leans into you over the edge of the bar and presses her lips to your ear. "I'm fucking her."

Everything in your brain stops, and starts; everything crashes down around you; everything rearranges.

"You know," the girl continues like she's explaining something casual, something innocent, "she's real fun on her hands and knees. Can't get enough of me." She tilts her head, contemplative. "I suppose she is beautiful," she adds, almost thoughtfully, and then reaches out her fingers. Tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "And graceful."

All you can picture are those gorgeous, creamy thighs marked up by nails like razors: bruises shaped like fingertips, angry scratches that would leave scars if pushed hard enough. Things for her to return to.

You swallow. You blink.

"She's very lovely," you say, careful, careful.

"Listen." The girl leans away, sweeps her red hair back over her shoulder, fixes you with her heavy-lidded eyes again. "We don't have to pretend we're in love or anything." Her voice is velvet, husky; the words catch at your eardrum and melt there, dripping down the bones of your skull like liquid seduction. "She's busy, clearly. So, I'm looking for a little company tonight, and I think I've found it."

"And your girlfriend?"

"Can't make it." She smiles, wolfish. "Which, if you don't mind me saying, is very lucky for you."

"Girlfriend, who you fuck into the mattress," you clarify. "She'd have no problem sharing?"

"With a pretty thing like you?" Her eyelashes flutter - the way they sweep low makes shadows across her cheeks, delicate. "No chance she'd object."

Your mouth twists to the side. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," she purrs. "Just: I'm going to go to the bathroom, and I think you could follow me there in five minutes, tops. Sound like a plan, handsome?"

Oh.

Okay. You think vaguely that Xinyu's probably got a hand in this, somehow. Doing this on purpose, leaving you here to fend for yourself - and it's a very Xinyu kind of move, really: setting you up with some stranger, letting her proposition you, and waiting for it to escalate past the point of return. Sending you right up to a pretty pair of vices, telling you to chew them down to size. Maybe if you do good - you already know how she wants you to perform - you'll get an actual reward later. Another girl for you to fuck, or maybe Xinyu herself. Or both. Your brain is spinning in circles. You really, really can't think straight with her breathing right onto your pulse.

"What, you've got something better to do than fuck two girls tonight? The girl seems to weigh something out in her mind; watches you through a side-long glance. "You really can't drop everything to play around for a little bit?"

So maybe it's not Xinyu's handiwork - this is a little too far-fetched, even for her - but you can't lie. When she goes ahead, drags her fingers on your shoulder as she glides by and doesn't bother looking back, the way your cock throbs makes it easy to decide that it doesn't matter.

-

You get lost a bit on the logistics. (That'll actually be a recurring theme.)

There's a pair of single-occupancy toilets in the back of the bar, ostensibly family washrooms; for mothers with children, wheelchairs, sloppy bathroom sex with god-blessedly gorgeous strangers, that sort of thing - but they're occupied. Both the handles spun up; red tags flipped up to indicate engagement, a motif, and symbolism in spades. Something heavy-handed and easily ignored.

"Maybe I should just get on my knees right here," she suggests eventually - like a joke, but she'd do it. You're pretty sure.

"Absolutely not," you counter, only a little bit scandalized. She grins and presses a palm flat to your abdomen.

"Just problem-solving." She's totally blasé. "Critical thinking."

"Careful with that," you warn her, sorta unreasonably given where your fingers are on the cut of her hips.

She pretends to think about it, fingers tapping thoughtfully on her lip, a comical exaggeration, and you just roll your eyes. You think about getting her name, maybe a number - you could just leave it at that, save her contact info under tall, great ass, (fuckable) lips and pray to hell it never comes up as recommended when someone else texts you.

Yeah, right. It's better to just bury yourself in this until it all dissolves - stick to the immediacy of it. Get your mouth on every part of her body and lick her clean, and then be gone before the sun rises. Right?

She pulls you down by your neck and slots your lips together again, slow, agonizing, her lips slipping over yours like they're made to be there. She kisses like it's an art form - something you can perfect, practice - and her tongue darts along the seam of your mouth like she wants to coax you open. There's the bite of cherry lipstick, sweet and candied; her fingertips into your belt loops, then yanks you toward her with her nose scrunched and a wicked smile.

"I can't believe you'd let me fuck you with your back against the wall like this." Her hips bump forward into yours - she's playing at bashful, coy and innocent. She's failing miserably. "What if someone sees?"

"I think you'd like that," you answer.

"Mmm," she agrees. She's tipping her head back, sliding her tongue across her upper lip, baring her neck to you. Her eyes flick back up, dragging like a blade. "Letting someone walk by, seeing you pushing into me, knowing I was about to make you lose control...yeah. Sounds hot, honestly."

"Shut up," you murmur, leaning closer.

"Make me," she kisses back, eyes flashing; oh, if you didn't feel it before, this is definitely how you know you'll see her again: you recognize the power in her stance, the firecracker-red blaze in her glare - it's like looking in a mirror, that domineering aggression. It's the promise of a rivalry; something you'll want to tame.

A wayward thought lingers: oh, hell - your mind is rapid on the recall, an endless, eager, addicting memory loop - how she kisses, too. The silky sweetness, the enthusiasm - the way her hands bury in your shirt and her pitched, muffled sounds of appreciation spill right into your throat. How she's such an obscene daydream, and the filthy, filthy things she tells you with her hands in your hair - the shock of that, her bold, pretty mouth telling you what she's fantasizing about right now and the fact that those fantasies line up with yours in nearly every sense. Her very presence is a contradiction, her mismatched gestures: tender kisses and wandering hands; how, for every inch given, she'll take five more.

You get your fingers under her skirt, pull her legs up to your waist; she wraps her palm over your cock; smiles against your lips, almost smitten but too arrogant for it: a villainous grin. You hitch one of her thighs over your hip, her panties damp against your slacks. Oh, how good she is - how perfect the feeling, how beautifully her teeth sink into the soft underside of your lower lip like you belong to her: a piece of property.

"That's it, sweetheart," you groan, kissing the apple of her cheek, letting the blush seep right under your tongue. Your hand hovers near her inner thigh. "God, you're so fucking sexy."

"Touch me," she hisses into the skin of your cheek.

"So demanding," you hum.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," she moans, arching into your chest - but her eyelashes flutter as your thumb ghosts across the fabric of her underwear, teasing. "Ah-ha..."

You'll justify it later, somehow: a cheat night, maybe - Xinyu's so used to getting other girls all to herself, you should have a few all to your own - and this one doesn't count as one, really; she belongs to someone else anyway, the raven-haired girl with the siren voice, long legs in silk stockings and pearls across her neck and high-heeled boots clicking across the pavement. And Kazuha doesn't even have to know: she's busy, probably; off with another guy or two or three. No reason to tell her what happens - you certainly won't complain. One orgasm and the redhead will be out of your hair.

There's a side door, some stairs. Nobody stops to ask who you are or where you're going, or even so much as bat an eye as you spill out into the alley - where people go to smoke or fight or vomit; she kisses you outside in the cold air, sliding her hands into your pockets and pushing up to the tips of her toes. There's a smile on her face like you're her best idea ever. It's cold out; she doesn't appear to care.

"God, I'm wet," she breathes, and you don't have to believe her.

"I bet I can help with that." Your jacket slides across your shoulders, off onto the concrete. You're leading her around a corner and against a brick wall. It's dark here. Dark enough for mistakes. Dark enough that you can press her spine to the bricks, slide your hands to her sides and lift her up, taste the lipstick across her jawline-

"Oh my god," comes a voice - softer, sweeter, a total siren lilt. "Please, fuck, that feels so-"

Both your heads swivel.

One streetlight illuminates Kazuha with her back pressed to the bricks and her hand curled tightly in all this black hair, panting, pleading: a perfect fucking masterpiece. She's got her eyes screwed shut, her lips parted; she's absolutely lost.

"Huh," says the redhead, dispassionate - and her fingers curl loosely over your forearm, drumming rhythmically. "Looks like she got distracted after all."

The hand between her legs is fucking her up and doing it fast, snapping sharp wrist motions accompanied by these rhythmic, throaty gasps from Kazuha as she holds onto the edge of a dumpster lid, clawing at metal. There's a muffled string of curses as the woman crouches, leaning forward - shoving her tongue inside. "Fu-uck," Kazuha manages, two distinct syllables - and her grip tightens around her waist, her spine. You catch the light shining off her gold earrings like a flash-warning, and you fall short of a breath.

“Xinyu?” you sputter. “What’re you-”

Xinyu extracts her hand from Kazuha’s cunt, licks her fingers clean and turns to you, not at all guilty - but she isn’t sorry, either. You blink hard.

“Oh, hey,” says Xinyu, cheery as anything. She brushes off her dress. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“Neither did we,” you choke, dry-mouthed. “Are you…”

“We’re making use of some downtime,” offers Kazuha, smoothing down her hair, wiping off her smudged lipstick. The makeup is so precise that it doesn’t look smudged at all - or maybe that’s just how used she is to covering it up. “Is there a problem?”

“No, none-” Your mouth snaps shut as Xinyu meets your stare and gives you an impish little shrug, biting back a smile. She saunters over to where you stand, keeping a respectable distance.

“Look at this, babe," Xinyu says. She gestures to the girl you were making out two seconds ago, casual. "I found him first. Isn’t he handsome?”

“You’ve got weird taste,” replies the redhead, not unkindly, tilting her head back against the wall and exposing all that gorgeous skin. You can see her chest rise and fall in ragged breaths. Xinyu walks a hand up your torso, palms your collarbone with a suggestive smile - it's a little possessive, but then again, you realize you’ve forgotten to let go of the other girl's hand.

“You would be into him,” retorts Kazuha. She laughs softly. “Hi, Jen,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

“Hey,” Yunjin says, wiggling her fingers, lazy. “Loved the performance."

"Shut the fuck up," snipes Kazuha, rolling her eyes, but she's flushed, halfway to an orgasm that's not gonna happen because everyone is apparently choosing now to puzzle this one out. "Could see you flirting with him the entire time, idiot."

"He's super fucking hot," says Yunjin. "Oh, speaking of which-" She tugs you closer by your wrist - you're stuck, standing still, trapped between three gorgeous women ready to argue over who saw who first.

“Wait,” you manage, breaking free. Yunjin huffs. Xinyu frowns, blinking. Kazuha leans back against the wall.

“We didn’t plan this or anything,” explains Kazuha. “Xinyu just likes what she sees sometimes.” There’s a practised ease in the way she says this - like this has all been rehearsed before between the two of them. "Or, well-" Kazuha lifts a shoulder, delicate, polished. "A lot of the time, I guess."

"Yeah," Xinyu says, not defensive. "So?"

"Well," you say, after a long moment - your mind working furiously to process, reconcile, synthesize - this scene where you're being pulled in six directions at once, trying to put this story together before any more pages flip.

"That's your girlfriend," you say to Yunjin, finally - and point a finger towards Kazuha.

"And yours," says Kazuha, one hand on Xinyu's hip. “Hi,” she adds.

"Yep," says Xinyu. "How about that."

She steps up close to you and bats those dark lashes. Behind her, Kazuha’s gaze catches your glance; it takes you a solid ten seconds to realize she’s trying to place where she’s seen you before - it clicks for her all at once, though it's a lot quicker for you - and then it all slots neatly into place, every cog and screw lining up in an easy motion.

“So.” Yunjin chews idly at the pad of her thumb. "What, you guys met once at the mall or something?"

"Yeah," you reply, realizing exactly how you and yours have come to fall for two of the same type. "We met at the mall."

If you'd like to imagine that this goes smoothly after that - it doesn't. Not really. It's more accurate to say that Yunjin looks at you, your blank stare, the panic - and the three girls just dissolve into laughter, giddy and conspiratorial like they've just pulled off the world's greatest coup.

"C'mon," says Yunjin. She's so good at reading social cues - like, oh, you being totally stunned-silent by the sheer amount of sexual energy suddenly coursing through this alleyway. "You said it yourself," Yunjin reminds you, gesturing at Kazuha, "beautiful, very pretty, nice legs." She brings her lips to your cheek. "You didn't lie about that."

"What?" says Kazuha.

Yunjin just smiles, brushes a lock of red hair behind her ear. "We have taste," she tells Kazuha, confident and poised - and then to you, hushed under her breath, "I'd watch you rail her," she murmurs. Her tongue darts out, pressing wet and warm into the shell of your ear. "Would you like that?"

"That's-" you start. You stop. Xinyu looks over at you, a devious flicker lighting up her eyes - oh, god; if that doesn't spell disaster, nothing does -and the grin she gives you is so downright evil you wonder why you ever dared dream you stood a chance. She looks back over at Kazuha, reaches out a hand to clasp gently at that impossible waist, pulling her in close.

"Sweetheart," Xinyu drawls, tracing a thumb over her jawline. "Doll," she continues, letting the nickname linger. She leans up, pecks a kiss against Kazuha's mouth - but her eyes don't leave yours for a second. She bites down gently on Kazuha's lower lip, tugging lightly at the skin before letting it snap back.

"You know I wouldn't ever get jealous over sharing something with you," Xinyu murmurs. She says it like a proclamation; something binding, solemn - a pact signed in ink, wax-sealed and pressed into the skin of Kazuha's collarbone. They're practically the same height. It makes your throat run dry. "You get me," she says.

Yunjin laughs, but not meanly. "It's cute how you pretend you aren't selfish," she says to Xinyu, rolling her eyes. Her lips curve upwards. "Tell me something I don't know." And then - you feel her fingertips trail delicately over your waistband, slipping her thumb below the hem of your jeans. "Hey, Kazuha?"

Kazuha drags her focus off Xinyu with visible effort, snapping back into the conversation.

"Wanna ride his face?"

Xinyu is grinning like a lunatic, gorgeous and predatory.

Kazuha gathers her hair off her neck. “He seems like the type who would want to eat pussy for hours."

"I wouldn't complain," you croak out - and Yunjin laughs. It’s genuine, unpracticed, the sort of thing that shakes her shoulders; it fills you up.

"Why don't you sit back down against that wall," she tells you, nudging at your ribs. Her touch feels electric. "Relax."

Oh. She says it like an order, and you realize that she knows full well what it'll do to you. She's still smiling, though it's sharper now, sharper, hungrier - like the glint of fangs that'll tear you apart. It's really no wonder you ended up exactly where she wanted you - but then you realize Kazuha's looking at you, and you realize that you're not entirely sure whose team you're on or if there even are any teams here. It's not like you can complain. The most you can manage is a grunt of acknowledgement, sitting down slowly, trying not to trip over your own feet and ruin everything.

"Good boy," Yunjin quips, quiet enough to feel private, intimate. You blink up at her, still holding her hand in your lap as you sit down, staring like she holds the key to all seven wonders of the world in her palm. "Kazuha," Yunjin calls over her shoulder, patting your arm. "Get over here. Come meet my new friend."

And that's sorta how you wind up in some kind of...what-the-fuck situation? Some otherworldly thing you shouldn't even hope to explain - some alternate dimension shit with two beautiful women pressing you back against some dirty-ass brick wall in the alley behind your usual haunt, a third one laughing hysterically at all four of you. You feel like the dumbest motherfucker alive, especially when Xinyu whispers something in Yunjin's ear, and it earns a resounding laugh, but mostly just because your girlfriend's hands are everywhere and Yunjin's sitting back and watching like it's prime-time television.

That - and also because Kazuha's decided she needs your face buried in her cunt ASAP, and frankly, you can't even muster up the energy to disagree.

-

First things first: the bar is packed - oh, wait, no: it's always packed. But especially so on the nights where you're trying to navigate this stupid situation, you got yourself into where three fucking goddesses have you on rotation, like clockwork. 

You're collecting coats and closing tabs, doing your absolute best not to bring any more attention to how Kazuha's wobbling on both legs because she can't quite walk straight anymore.

Yunjin - your current distraction, clad in the most perfect shade of red lipstick, clinging onto your favourite girl like a lifeline - keeps leaning over to Xinyu, whispering frantically in her ear, and it's like the more they talk, the more amused Xinyu gets.

"I told Yunjin your apartment's the closest," Xinyu says to you, eventually, a small smirk forming on her face. "Think she wants you alone for a while. Sounds like she thinks you could really, uh-" She nods toward you, gesturing pointedly towards your belt. "Blow her back out, is how she phrased it."

Oh. Well, then. Yeah, no, you'd be perfectly okay with that.

When you glance back over at the rest of your - you don't have a word for it - entourage, all three pairs of eyes are locked on you, expectant and eager. Jesus fucking Christ. You make brief eye contact with Yunjin; her smile grows impossibly wider. This was meant to be a casual night, wasn't it? A nice outing at the lounge bar where you down drinks and enjoy the scenery - that was how it started, right? Then Yunjin had shown up, demanding all your attention like you owed it to her just for existing (and honestly? You kinda do). It'd been an excuse to look at Kazuha's tits, and then another to press your mouth all over Xinyu's - but the way your girlfriend's looking at you makes it abundantly clear that that ship's already sailed. 

Kazuha raises a water bottle to her lips, looking cool and confident as ever (oh, you know better).

"Didn't mean to invite everyone over, but." Xinyu preens, adjusting the hem of her skirt and checking for signs of wear. She knows exactly what she's saying, exactly what you're thinking - there's an intentness to her words. "You wouldn't mind, right, baby?"

"Yeah, sure," you agree, glancing up at all of them with a nod. You've never moved faster in your life; your coat's over your arm, keys in your pocket, the whole ensemble. They're watching you, waiting patiently. Xinyu raises an eyebrow. "Lead the way?"

She beams. She turns, slips her purse strap over her shoulder. "Alright," she chirps - and the four of you take off into the night.

-

It's funny, you think: Xinyu's also had a weak spot for Kazuha, probably since the first time she saw her perform. (That's the part that sticks out in your brain.) But then again, maybe Kazuha knew about Xinyu too; they seem pretty damn cosy for this being their first interaction with each other, though you suppose you can't judge - you were practically aching for Yunjin within an hour of meeting her, weren't you?

But whatever. Your cock is in Yunjin's hand, and your mind is very much not present right now. That's the important thing.

By the time you finally unlocked your front door, all four of you stumbling in - everyone tipsy, aroused, dying to get their hands on someone's skin - Yunjin immediately glued herself to you, pushing your coat off your shoulders. She'd gotten your zipper undone in record time. It's not the first time, obviously: she's got this ghost of a grip around your cock already, a knowing stroke, this way of handling your arousal that feels almost proprietary in its control.

There's an island in the kitchen; you're washed up on its shore. Fingers spread across the marble sand as the edge presses against your lower back. "Drinks are in the—"

"You can skip the fanfare." Yunjin is stroking you, her other hand at the nape of your neck to pull you down, kiss her; your mouth meets hers, hot, messy, too hard. Pick up where you left off sort of thing. Some unheard conversation must have planned this, on the street or in the hallway or the elevator—they'd figured out some secret plot, who got what, how they would split up, and it starts here.

It's in your periphery that you see them cross, hand in hand, watching you come undone by the vixen in red. Xinyu is taking the lead, and you can see her mind working overtime to figure out what would drive you the most insane right now. She stops at the couch, centre-view, perching herself on the back of it to pull the other girl against her. Kazuha giggles in the high pitch, something that sounds too sweet to come from someone whose job it is to get men going—and maybe she does that on purpose: the look over her shoulder accompanies a feigned innocence.

Xinyu looks past her, gaze falling over Yunjin first: red dress, blood red lips, hair like a hearth-fire, and the hand moving on your cock in your unbuckled jeans. "A head start? How unfair." She rolls her eyes with all the mocking derision she can muster, but her smirk betrays her. She's pushing Kazuha by the shoulder, putting the dancer down on her knees. Even in the most compromising position possible, she looks immaculate: she sinks, legs together, ass perched on her heels. There's not a strand of hair out of place, and even in her lust, Xinyu strives to maintain the fact, so she takes care in the way she pulls Kazuha between her thighs. A gentle, fingertip hold, as she spreads her knees to frame her.

You watch with rapt attention; you can hardly look away. The whole thing is artfully posed.

Yunjin says your name, the first word you've heard from her, and you've only missed it a little. Your gaze moves to her. You expect another comment, snide, but her mouth parts, like the words have been stolen right out of it.

"You good?" You're trying to be a gentleman, if not an asshole—and it works, too; it spurs her back. She bites the corner of her lip and hums.

"Yeah, you know." A half-shrug accompanies her words as she lets you slide a strap from her shoulder. "Still waiting for you to blow my back out."

Oh. You laugh, hoarse. Yeah, that's—that's on the agenda, for sure.

It's just—the show, right across from you, has started.

Kazuha, in her performance, has Xinyu's skirt pushed up around her waist, face against her thigh, breath hot on her skin, fingers splayed over her knee to press her legs even wider. The most natural seduction; the effortless allure that laces every part of her. Her lips against skin are soft and pink, moving against the curve of the muscle, mouthing up higher. You know how that feels—travelling the vast expanse of Xinyu's long legs in search of something to bury your face in.

"She's in for a treat," Yunjin whispers.

"So am I," you return, placing a hand on Yunjin's now strapless shoulder and putting just enough weight into your hand that she knows she's going down.

"Can't promise I won't bite," she warns, in the tone that makes your throat dry, in the way you think she just might. But you've also had the image of Yunjin's head bobbing in your lap the whole cab ride home.

If there's a heaven, you'll find it in a mouth like this one: soft-lipped, warm and wet, tongue on you. You reach for the back of her neck, feel the silk of her hair under your palm as she sucks hard enough to make your hips jerk. Then there's the gentlest of grazes—her teeth on your shaft, and it makes your jaw tighten. She's all smirk and smoulder, eyes coming up to see what kind of face she's making you pull.

"Oops," she laughs.

"Fuck," Xinyu gasps, the loudest sound in the room. There's the slightest shift of Kazuha's shoulders, the way her back bows when her tongue drags from slit to clit; nose pushed up tight.

Xinyu, still leaning over the back of the couch, turns her gaze toward you, then, heavy, desperate, and dark: an intensity that hits right in the base of your stomach and twists like a dull knife.

Xinyu trades pleasured gasps for a coy remark. "Look at her go. Eats pussy like she'll starve to death without it." It's like she needs to comment on it, all casual, as if there weren't someone between her legs, making her thighs tense.

Yunjin pulls back just long enough to say, "Tell me about it." Then she goes deep enough that you see your cock hit the back of her throat. No warning. You cough out an obscenity. It's good, and it's better because of what you're looking at.

"Yeah?" Xinyu says. "Be pretty easy to cum like this, you know?" The implication hangs in the air, unaddressed.

Just like Yunjin before you, you agree. "Tell me about it."

Your girl, on the couch, her body twists again. Kazuha is making her work to keep the upper hand in all this, if there's such a thing, and she has to put conscious effort into keeping her words steady. Her focus is on you, on your face, on how your mouth opens every time Yunjin sinks her mouth to the hilt.

"Do you wanna cum like this?" Yunjin says to the underside of your dick, her hot breath against your length.

You look to Xinyu for a final answer: her head's back and her chin tilted high in a groan that fills the room, an arcing note in a rising song that starts between her thighs. Her hands grip the cushions.

"She's close," You say off-handedly. An easy observation. It doesn't answer her question.

"Could finish you so easily," Yunjin hums. You feel her words against the crown. She swirls her tongue, and you clench your fists.

"Faster than Kazuha?"

"Much faster." Yunjin grins like she's just thrown down a challenge. And you get why it works: competitive to a fault.

"No chance," Xinyu manages. There's sweat on the skin that shimmers with highlight, her chest heaving with every laboured breath, "absolutely—" Kazuha presses forward, and the rest comes out a curse. She grits out the words. "Impossible."

"Bet?" says Yunjin, her nails dug deep enough into your skin that it leaves little crescent moons.

Xinyu's head lifts. There's a smile on her face that's just shy of wicked, "I'd say winner takes all."

There are very few bets that Xinyu won't take and fewer stakes that she won't gamble with, but she's got confidence in Kazuha's ability, and time is a-ticking. Even with how wound up Yunjin's got you, watching them, it's still an even race at this point. Kazuha has a lot to prove: this is a test to see if her pretty lips and clever tongue can get her girl to the finish line faster than anyone else.

And, oh—she can taste it, can't she: Xinyu dripping wetness to her chin, her folds spread and cunt eager. The dancer's a performer of many skills: her fingers slide inside, her mouth locked in place and sucking hard until Xinyu is fucking her mouth with the back and forth of her hips. In a moment of indulgence, she presses Kazuha's face deeper, harder. It's rougher, meaner: she pushes her up tight enough that her air might just get cut off, if it weren't for the moans that slip from the singer's mouth. "God—" You think she says, and then nothing but sharp inhale and the jolt of her hips that has Kazuha's nails in the flesh of her inner thighs.

Yunjin's picking up the slack on you. Maybe to wipe the smirk from your girlfriend's face, or maybe she just really wants your cum down her throat. That's fine. You're not opposed.

Mouth briefly replaced by hand, strokes hard and tight, so she can talk and please. "Better cum in me soon. You'll lose." She winks. She's not wrong, and she sucks in her next breath like she knows it. That mouth on you again.

Let's be real. Let's not get it twisted. You win. You always win.

Xinyu will cum first. It's one of those facts in life. Death, taxes and Xinyu's climaxes.

It starts in her chest—a hitch that becomes a heavy rise and fall, a moan from deep in her throat. Her body follows it: every limb taut like strings in a bow. Tension: her head back to the sky and the arch in her back like a crescent. Her legs start to shake. It's there that you feel your blood thrumming, the adrenaline that starts that climb before your fall, and Yunjin takes her cue to speed things up on her end as Xinyu tumbles over on hers. Her thighs tense, tight, trembling.

"Oh—oh fuck—Kazuha." Xinyu moaning another woman's name always has a certain kind of kick to it, even more so with you down Yunjin's throat. She's never shy about this. Never timid. Always, unabashedly, the way it is with you and how she'll scream and cry for it, for the orgasm that wracks her like an electric current.

Kazuha has no interest in easing her down: the pads of her fingertips work her open, pumping inside, tongue flat to lap against the pulsing heat, riding her through each wave and crest, drawing them longer, higher. Xinyu's shaking with the overstimulation, hands in hair, but not pulling back.

"God. Fuck, Kazuha—" This time, there's the edge of desperation to it, so close to pleading for it to stop.

There's a moment when you lock your eyes. Xinyu looking through the strands of her dark hair that stick to her cheeks, and the sweat that glosses her forehead, the flush on her skin, her lipstick smeared in places. And that smile, her wicked grin in full bloom. Her breath coming in shallow heaving puffs. Kazuha is slowing. Stilling.

You've been teetering close to that razor's edge, the precipice of it, but there was only ever going to be one winner. Yunjin pulls her mouth from you and she has no idea just how close you were, just how cruel the denial, as she stands.

You say her name as a question: why would she ever fucking stop?

Her mouth to your ear, and you feel her smirking again, her teeth against the shell: "You lost," she murmurs.

"You lost," Xinyu echoes from across the room. She pushes Kazuha away, legs still unsteady, as she slides from the couch to her feet and straightens out the fabric of her dress. You watch as Kazuha touches the gloss of her lip and sucks it off her finger. Her smile is soft and warm when she gets to her feet. It's like a stage; everything posed: Xinyu and Kazuha, standing side-by-side and arms entwined.

"Second place," says Xinyu, looking you right in the eyes.

"I get it," you say. Your cock stands at full mast. "You don't need to remind me."

"Oh," she grins, leaning against the dancer, "I absolutely do." Her hand touches Kazuha's chin and lifts, kissing her deep, tongues dancing against one another's. When Xinyu's teeth drag along her bottom lip, you know she must be able to taste herself. "She's real good. Though I do wonder what her girlfriend is like," she whispers as she eyes Yunjin.

Kazuha speaks up. "She can definitely make a girl cum." She speaks with such nonchalance as if she's discussing the weather or what brand her shampoo is and not the way she's had Yunjin eating out of her cunt.

Kazuha is a professional; it's no surprise to hear she knows how to get a girl to see god, and it's no surprise that anyone she lays with has to be on top of their game. Xinyu knows, too. She grins, and she laughs, and she holds her waist like Kazuha's some sort of prize, and it's just so Xinyu, this display. "Lucky us." She touches a hand to the dancer's hip. She says to Yunjin, "We oughta try her out."

"You're going to leave him hanging?" says Yunjin, running a hand down your chest dangerously low before taking it back, a gentle press of lips on your jaw. "That's not very fair."

"He can help you out, right?" Xinyu offers, gesturing in your direction with one of those looks in her eyes. You know that one. "Make us cum." And her hand slips to the swell of Kazuha's breast, groping greedily. It's a demand that comes out as a suggestion.

Kazuha whispers something inaudible to Xinyu's ears and it must've been good because the woman hums, intrigued, the smile on her mouth turning wider and more mischievous by the second. They both take a step, both reach out, Kazuha takes your wrist and Xinyu takes Yunjin's. Wordlessly, they take you away from the kitchen and to the window: the massive wall of windows that line your apartment with the city behind.

"I want the world to see," Kazuha explains. "To wish they were you."

"Sounds a little cheesy," you quip.

"Sounds hot," Xinyu retorts as she places her hands on the glass. She bends forward so that the swell of her ass pushes out against the hem of her skirt, and against Yunjin, who is standing right behind her. "Don't you think, babe?" she teases Yunjin.

"Very," Yunjin says. She moves her fingers along the seams of Xinyu's body, finding their way underneath her top. You hear Xinyu breathe out through her mouth. Yunjin moves closer to Xinyu's ear and bites it. "But the only ones that'll actually get to touch you, to taste you... that'll be us, huh?" She moves her fingers along the waistband of her skirt.

Xinyu turns her head back at her, smiling. "They'll be able to see how well I can take it, too. You'll let them see, won't you?"

Kazuha perches in front of you, spreading her fingers out against the glass, lowering her shoulders, arching her spine and lifting her ass to the sky for your taking. In an instant, you're on your knees and appreciating her for everything she's worth. "You don't need to be a gentleman. Just go for it. You already had the courtesy earlier," she tells you as you move closer.

"Can't I take a moment to appreciate you first?" you reply.

"Do you have to?" Her laugh is half a moan, and she's pulling up her own dress. "Are you so infatuated by the sight of me? Because, believe me—" and her words are cut off as you sink your teeth into her cheeks, your fingertips pressing tight into the skin at her hip— "you've seen more than most get to."

You run a hand up the expanse of her thigh. "Savouring every moment," you hum into her skin.

"How romantic," she laughs. There are the smallest noises in the back of her throat that come with your touch as you caress her ass. Fingers into flesh, gentle pressure until you feel her roll against it. The perfect ass. The kind people would kill for.

You hear Xinyu gasp, the sharp breath: Yunjin's got her face pressed hard between Xinyu's spread thighs from behind. "Y'know—" your girl manages between moaning pants, "wasn't sure what to expect. This isn't how we usually do things." She's trying to hold the conversation together while Yunjin works to make a ruin of it. Xinyu braces herself against the glass. "Two girls at once is a pretty good score."

"I'd call it that," you hum in agreement as you pull Kazuha's delicate panties down her thighs.

"The two of you do this often?" Yunjin asks between licking Xinyu's dripping cunt and then slapping an ass cheek hard, enough to sting. It leaves an angry pink imprint on the flesh of her. Xinyu hisses, her fingers curling against the glass as she struggles to hold herself steady. Kazuha arches her spine to give you better access.

"See them all the time," Kazuha gently laughs, the breathiest moan breaking her sentence up, and she rocks herself back against you. "Taking someone home before my show even ends."

Xinyu's eyes open, and her vision is clear. She looks over her shoulder. Her hips are slow, riding the tongue that pushes deeper inside. Her voice is steady, and she's trying hard not to let Yunjin catch her completely, though the pressure on the glass betrays her. "Been keeping an eye on us, hm?"

You're dragging your tongue against Kazuha, circling around the wetness between her legs. You taste the sweet musk of her, and then you drag the flat of your tongue along the folds. She hums with a laugh that sounds a little breathier, more strained. Your tongue moves deeper, dipping into the parting of flesh, to taste the soft, velvet feel of her, the slick heat that comes with her arousal.

"You're not exactly subtle. Hard not to notice."

You push a little firmer, face into her ass, tasting the deepest parts of her and as she shifts on her knees, she lowers a hand to your hair and grabs a handful of it, keeping you where she needs you, fingers curled around the strands and the sting that follows. You hear the noise she makes, the way she shivers under your attention. It feels good.

"We have a fan," Xinyu jokes, but her laughter is cut off by a moan as Yunjin sucks harder on the soft folds between her legs. "Maybe two." There's the sound of skin hitting skin, and then a gasp. You know the sounds of Xinyu when her skin is slapped, or her flesh is bit.

Yunjin's hands roam her body freely. They're everywhere: touching, teasing. Her nails scratch and drag, and Xinyu groans when teeth meet her inner thigh again.

Kazuha is dripping against your chin now. Every lick sends another jolt up her spine, and every circle against her sensitive clit has her moaning. You squeeze her ass. She rocks forward. "Mhm..." Her lips part, and her jaw goes slack.

"What a pretty fucking mess," you hum against the wetness.

Xinyu takes Kazuha by the chin, pulling her into a kiss, and there's no way for anyone else to appreciate how beautiful they look against each other. Xinyu runs a hand up into Kazuha's hair, and her hips are still grinding, still pushing down onto Yunjin's mouth. "I'm gonna cum if she doesn't stop."

"Cum with me?" Kazuha says. It sounds desperate, almost needy in its demand: an urgency to share this. To do it together.

It doesn't sound like a bad idea at all.

"Not stopping," is the last thing Yunjin says as she continues to feast. You think she might have a point to prove, but if that means she wants to eat a pussy that good, then so be it. Your mouth works Kazuha faster: you spread the folds with your fingers and go to work on her clit. Your teeth catch the sensitive flesh, and she shakes with it, thighs threatening to tremble and tense, a strangled cry falling from her lips that she smothers by moaning it right into Xinyu's lips.

The taste of Kazuha on your tongue is something you'll never get tired of. Her sweet juice spills over, and when she arches, she cums harder, cries out louder until finally, her knees start to shake. That's how it starts, and with her orgasm comes Xinyu's too. There's a moment when the two are tangled together, when the sounds that fall out of them echo each other's. Their voices meet, their moans mix, and their tongues clash in their kiss, like they can't bear to keep any distance from one another. It's intimate, even amidst the other mouths on them. Even as Yunjin and you coax them through it. When it passes, the two cling onto each other, holding each other up, both of them trembling with the aftermath of a shared bliss.

Kazuha falls first: with a slow slump she sinks down to the floor, falling away from your hungry mouth and onto her hands and knees on the hardwood. She pants, heavy breaths, her head bowed, her hair in her eyes. There's a contented hum to the room as it all begins to settle down. Kazuha turns to you: there's that gorgeous smile, as she pushes back hair from her face. Her makeup is smudged. Her lipstick's a mess.

Xinyu follows after, but not without first stroking Yunjin's hair and kissing her, thanking her. Xinyu falls into Kazuha's embrace, the two of them holding each other up on the floor. Their heads are on one another's shoulders.

You lose your balance to a hard push. Your ass hitting the ground hard, sitting flat on the hardwood.

"Your turn." Yunjin grins, a hand pushing at the centre of your chest, keeping you from rising.

"You're going to do that right here?"

She grins at you. "Right now."

From here on out, it's just an inevitable, sordid decline into depravity. There is no message here, no moral, no meaning beyond the mindless, the reckless. There's nothing profound about the way Yunjin slips the other strap off her shoulder and pulls the material down to her waist to expose her braless chest. There's no wisdom in the way she moves into your lap, arms hooked over your shoulders.

No revelations come from how her bare pussy slides against the head of your cock. No matters of the world solved by the way you grope her tits in your palms. Nothing poetic about the sound that slips between her pretty red lips when you enter her cunt. This is just the way things are. This is barely a footnote on the night, not an epic climax. It's not a resolution or a denouement. Just another impending orgasm. You're just lucky you're at the centre of it all.

"Give us a show, won't you?" Xinyu murmurs.

Yunjin's got a smile on her lips that says, sure, sure, I can do that. She puts her hands on your chest, pinning you against the ground, her hips lifting and rolling as she slides you in and out of herself. "You think we should thank them? The people in the toilets?"

"Why's that?"

"Well, we'd have gone in there." Yunjin pushes her hips down hard onto you to punctuate her sentence. "We'd have fucked." She's taking control here: riding you in the centre of the hardwood floor. "You'd have cum." Another roll of the hips. "In me. On me." She gasps, moans. "That would have been that." It's all being said so nonchalantly. "But now, it's like this."

You laugh a little as you watch the woman ride you for all you're worth. "It's fitting," you say as you push yourself up from the floor, sitting face-to-face with the woman riding you. "Because you deserve so much more than a quickie on a dirty toilet." You wrap an arm around the small of her back. "And I'd much rather take my time with you." You buck your hips up into her, commandeering the rhythm as your pace starts to climb. You drive into her, pounding hard, as you bury your face between her breasts.

There are the smallest of noises that break free from Yunjin: the whines that get trapped behind her throat and the moans that slip between her teeth. She lets you handle her, and the only sound she makes is that soft whimpering and that sharp hiss when your fingers grip tight at her skin, and when her body slams down against your cock, you feel her tense and then shake around your shaft, squeezing and clamping down hard. She stifles her sounds.

"You good?" you whisper. She doesn't answer. At least, not at first. She gives herself a moment to catch her breath, as her nails drag across your shoulder blade.

She moans out a reply. "Oh yeah. So good. I'm so—" her words trail into a hiss of a breath.

You push her onto her back, pinning her to the ground as she laughs, arms above her head and eyes on yours, as you pick the pace back up again. "Show's still on," Xinyu says, somewhere on your peripheries.

"He fucks like a..." Kazuha whispers, unable to find the right words.

"I know," Xinyu laughs, before leaning in to kiss at Kazuha's jaw. "Doesn't he just?" The words are barely a whisper in her ear.

There's this shift in your periphery, Xinyu taking a place on the floor, her hand behind Kazuha's head as she spreads her legs again. It's rare you've found anyone who can keep up with Xinyu, but tonight's proven to be the exception. Kazuha's on all fours, leaning in for another taste. The sight has you groan.

Yunjin laughs at that, pulling your face back to hers, her legs wrapping around your hips, locking behind your back as she pulls you into her. "Don't get distracted now, honey," she says. Her fingertips trace along the muscles in your shoulders. Her lips curl up into a smile as her body shivers underneath yours, and you can feel it: that sweet clamping down of her pussy around your cock, and you know that she's close to coming again.

"Got an idea," you whisper.

"Wait, wait—" Yunjin claws at your back, holding you closer, tighter. "Just let me—" and you feel it. Her wet heat coating your length, pulsing. You roll her into it, feel the slick mess as her hips twist against the hardwood. She shakes, head thrown back, eyes fluttering shut, and lips parted. "There we go. Now, idea?"

"Come here." It's seamless, the way you move her around and behind Kazuha, positioning her face right against her girlfriend's ass. "Doesn't that look so good?"

"Beautiful," she says.

"Bet you eat that ass every chance you get, I know I would."

"Me too," Xinyu chimes.

"Yeah?" Yunjin says as she traces her hands along Kazuha's hips and curves, the lines that make her. She touches her thighs, and then she moves her fingertips to the cheeks of her ass. "Well." A kiss on the flesh of it. "You know. She does have such a pretty ass," she whispers.

"You both do," you reply as you mimic Yunjin's touches on her own ass.

She smiles into the skin, pressing more soft kisses along it. Her fingernails dig in gently as her mouth presses a little harder against it. Yunjin drags her nails over it, making marks. Yunjin moans softly, burying her mouth deeper between the cheeks. Kazuha arches with a moan of her own, rocking back. Yunjin sinks deeper, eating her girlfriend's ass like it was the last meal she'd have for days. The sounds are wet and hungry. Her moans are muffled as her mouth does its work. "God..." Yunjin groans into the flesh. Her hands roam up to Kazuha's sides, and she digs her fingers in and holds her, rocking the woman's hips against her face. It's like she can't get enough, and the taste must be so fucking intoxicating.

You're back inside Yunjin, the end of the train. She shivers again, moans again. Her nails drag up the small of Kazuha's back, marking the line of her spine with the gentle red trails. Her teeth scrape against Kazuha's skin, and she presses the pad of her tongue between her asscheeks again.

Yunjin's dress is still bunched at the waist, you bunch it and then hold it firm: it pulls tight across her toned stomach and gives you a handle, a grip to hold. You thrust into her, hard. She groans into Kazuha, and in turn, Kazuha gasps into Xinyu.

You hear Xinyu moaning, a note that arcs and echoes and then tapers off again. Kazuha is humming, soft and quiet, and Yunjin groans deeply. When the three of you all start to sync up, to fall into one steady beat, it feels right. It's everything falling together. Waves on the sand.

Xinyu is gasping; her head is back, and her throat is exposed, and her body is writhing with pleasure. She has her fingers buried in Kazuha's hair, clutching at it desperately, as she rocks back onto her tongue, onto her mouth, her hips bucking erratically. You're fucking Yunjin in slow and deep thrusts that have her moaning and shuddering, her fingers gripping hard into the dancer's thighs, and she's eating that ass with hunger, her own body responding to each motion of your hips in a ripple of a wave that runs up her spine, one after the next after the next.

This was never meant to last. There is no way.

You're on edge. Xinyu's on the precipice, and Kazuha is shaking.

There is no way, you say it again, and that's how your mind feels: unsteady, untethered, and it's in that haze that you slip your free hand to Yunjin's hip and guide it under her, have her press two fingers into the slickness that's so familiar, that she knows so well. You tell her. "Make your girlfriend cum." It's not an order. You've no authority here, in the mess that this has become, but she does, doesn't she: she's the only one who could get someone to sing for the world to see.

It's just seconds after when she slips the digits up inside that the woman is shaking, her back arching, and she's moaning in tandem with the way her hips roll back on you. Yunjin's fingers plunge deeper inside, and Kazuha shivers in delight. And then there's the smallest cry of a sound, and she's spilling wet onto the hand that keeps pushing her down. "You're so beautiful, Kazu," Yunjin murmurs, the words muffled by how she's buried her face between those cheeks, she's so damn close to her own climax. Kazuha is trembling, shaking. She moans out her release into Xinyu's wet cunt.

Thighs clamp hard on Kazuha's head. "Yes—" Xinyu cries out, as her hips rock upwards, bucking on Kazuha's mouth as she rides the orgasm hard, hands at her own breasts, groping greedily as her tongue drags her bottom lip under white, teeth bared: it's like a growl, almost, or a snarl, her eyes open wide, but staring right through everything.

And that's what pushes you over. You grab hard onto Yunjin's hip, the bunched fabric of her dress. Your fingernails drag against her flesh as you rut into her, hips thrusting again and again. She can't help the gasp, the sound, as your nails scrape deep into her thigh. She's so sensitive. The skin so soft and so receptive to touch. That noise turns into a moan. You know the sounds of her now. She doesn't need to tell you. You know. The pace of her breathing changes, and you hear the breathy little whimpers. When she gasps and when her cunt flutters, you can tell that she's close. And you know, when she cums because of the shuddering that runs up her body, the tensing of her muscles and that moaning that starts low and quiet before it grows, and then it explodes out of her in a sudden burst, like fireworks.

Xinyu's curling a finger. A beckon. You have a place to take, kneeling over her, and a finish that she demands.

"You know what to do, don't you?" she teases, a laugh on the tip of her tongue: that sharp and mischievous smirk, and the eyes that gleam in the light.

"I do."

She turns her gaze on the couple on the floor, the girls who've sunk onto one another. You can hear Yunjin laughing. Kazuha's fingers trail over her face, tracing the outline. "Go ahead," Xinyu says to you: not permission but expectation.

She presents her face as if it's a canvas and, yeah, sure, maybe you've done this more times than you can count, but you've still got your hand on your dick and the other on the back of Xinyu's neck, rubbing like it's the first time, and—

There it goes.

"God," Yunjin groans, "that's pretty."

Kazuha's contented hum agrees. They both reach a hand out to run their fingers across the mess of your cum, spreading it across the smooth expanse of skin, painting their art of Xinyu. There are no lines, no patterns, just the abstract swirl and the smearing that follows.

"Should take a photo," Kazuha suggests. "For posterity's sake."

"Too late," Yunjin mutters as she leans in to lick at the slick of white on the woman's cheek.

Soon, they're both at it, cleaning your girlfriend like she was the world's finest delicacy. And she basks in the attention. The centre of it. She's used to that kind of spotlight, though you don't think anyone shines as bright as her.

Yunjin takes a mouthful, opening to show the white on her tongue, and then her lips collide with Xinyu's. The cum is passed, tongue-to-tongue, a kiss shared. They share it with each other, a kiss that is truly sordid. You hear Kazuha's moan of excitement before you even realise what's happening: she joins in, making the kiss a trio. Three mouths passing your cum back and forth and the sound of their soft moans of delight.

It's hard to fathom that this is only the beginning. It's almost as difficult to comprehend just how far it's already gone, and the truth, as you see it, is that it doesn't need to make sense. Some nights are destined for excess. Nights like these. With a trio like this. You're not asking for any answers: all you're asking is that the four of you sink deeper, lose yourself to it.

The girls break the kiss, and Xinyu says, "You know, he has this walk-in shower. The big kind." You can hear the smirk in her tone like she knows just the kind of trouble she'll cause with her words.

"Yeah? I bet we could all fit in it," Kazuha hums, and there's that look of hers again, a little devious but mostly playful: a look of a girl who just wants to please everyone she comes into contact with. She can't seem to get enough, and she's just dying for a taste of more. Her hands slide along both women's waists, pulling them in a tighter embrace. Xinyu looks at you.

"You did always say—"

"I did."

"And, honestly, there's no better—"

"I know," you tell her, climbing to your feet and holding out a hand. "Come on."

[harrysfolklore]

hi! i have a little bitch blurb request - piastri sis is on painkillers after a minor surgery or after being at the dentist and while carlos is taking care of her she says things she never would’ve DARED to say out loud - even about the fact she’s been infatuated with him longer than she’ll ever admit 😋

this was so fun write 😭😭 i love my little bitches so much

"Carloooooos," you slur through a mouth full of gauze, reaching blindly for him as the nurse wheels you out. "I missed you. Did you miss me? I was asleep but I missed you."

"Yes, mi amor," he tries not to laugh as he helps you into the car. "I missed you too."

"Your face is so nice," you pat his cheek clumsily. "Like... so symmetrical. Are you real? Maybe I'm dreaming."

He buckles you in carefully. "I'm real."

"Prove it," you demand, then immediately start giggling. "My mouth feels like clouds. Do clouds feel things, Carlos? Are clouds sad?"

"I don't think so-"

"We should ask Lando," you say seriously. "He knows about clouds. He's British. It rains there."

Carlos bites his lip to keep from laughing as he starts driving. You're staring at him with wide, unfocused eyes.

"Your hair is so fluffy," you reach for him, missing completely. "Like a lion. My lion. Did you know lions mate for life? Are we lions, Carlos?"

"Eyes on the road, eyes on the road," he mutters to himself in Spanish, fighting a smile.

"Oh! Spanish!" you perk up. "I know Spanish! Te... te something. What's the word? The love word?"

"Te amo?"

"YES!" you try to clap but miss your hands together. "Te amo! I love you SO much. Like... like more than pizza. And I really love pizza. I think I love you since the first time I called you a stupid little bitch."

"I'm honored-"

"But shhhh," you stage whisper. "Don't tell Carlos. He'll get a big head. His head's already perfect though. How is it so perfect?"

"Mi amor, I am Carlos."

You gasp dramatically. "No way! Since when?"

"Since birth, I think."

"Birth!" you suddenly look devastated. "I wasn't there for your birth! I missed baby Carlos! He was probably so cute. With tiny baby abs."

He can't hold back his laugh this time. "I don't think I had abs as a baby."

"Lies," you poke his arm, missing twice. "You came out of the womb with a six-pack. And perfect hair. And that smile that makes me want to take off my-"

"Okay!" he interrupts quickly. "How about some water?"

"Water is boring," you pout. "You're not boring though. You're exciting. Like racing. Vroom vroom."

He hands you a water bottle anyway, helping you drink without choking.

"My hero," you sigh dreamily. "Saving me from death by water. We should get married."

He nearly swerves. "What?"

"Yeah! Right now! Call Lando, he can be the flower girl. Oscar can be the ring bear."

"Ring bearer?"

"No, ring BEAR. He has to dress as a bear. It's traditional."

"Since when?"

"Since right now. I just decided. I'm very smart, Carlos. The doctor said so."

"Did he?"

"Mhmm. He said..." you scrunch your face in concentration. "Actually I don't remember. But I'm sure he did. Because I am smart. Smart enough to date you. HA! Take that, Instagram models!"

"What Instagram models?"

"The ones that slide into your DMs," you try to look stern but your numb face isn't cooperating. "I see them. With their perfect teeth. Well guess what? I have no teeth now! I win!"

"You still have teeth, mi amor. Just minus the wisdom ones."

"Wisdom..." you gasp. "Carlos! Am I going to be stupid now?"

"No-"

"Quick! Ask me something smart!"

"Like what?"

"Like... what's your favorite color?"

"That's not really a test of wisdom-"

"BLUE!" you shout triumphantly. "See? Still smart! And your butt looks really good in blue. Like REALLY good. Science fact. I used to stare at your butt when I pretended to hate you."

Finally, you reach home. Carlos helps you out of the car as you ramble about his "science butt" and whether lions know about race cars.

"Time for rest," he says, laying you on the bed.

"No," you grab his shirt. "Stay. Protect me from the tooth fairy. She's a thief, Carlos. A professional thief."

"I'll protect you," he promises, sliding in beside you.

"My hero," you mumble, already drifting off. "Hey Carlos?"

"Yes?"

"If we have babies, will they have wisdom teeth? Or will they be born wise? Like little wise lions...Or wise little little bitches."

You fall asleep before he can answer, drooling slightly through the gauze.

And Carlos can only smile.

[atlas-of-andromeda]

*sucks in deep breathe through teeth* Alright I guess I'm doing this.

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

No.

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

Been a while. Can't really say. If we're only counting times I've meant it then I'm not sure I've ever.

03: Do you regret anything?

I've made mistakes, but none of them detrimental enough for me to regret them.

04: Are you insecure?

Yes.

05: What is your relationship status?

Single. Hopefully it will remain like that

06: How do you want to die?

Explosion. I don't know specifics I just want to be able to tell people in the afterlife 'I went off with a bang!'

07: What did you last eat?

Chocolate bar.

08: Played any sports?

I'm presuming that we're ignoring sports I've been forced to play in school. But other than that... is chess a sport?

09: Do you bite your nails?

Yeah. Pretty frequently too.

10: When was your last physical fight?

When I was like eight. Some six year old started randomly throwing very weak punches at me, so I threw a few back.

11: Do you like someone?

No. Hopefully I never will.

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

Yeah. Once, and I got close to it a couple other times.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

I hate most people. Humans suck.

14: Do you miss someone?

My friend who's too busy with school to talk.

15: Have any pets?

Unfortunately not.

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

Tired.

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

No!?

18: Are you scared of spiders?

A bit. Less so of looking at spiders, and more so just knowing there's a spider in my presence.

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

No. I don't think I would.

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

I haven't done that before, and I'd rather not.

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

Try and finish TMA.

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

FUCK NO.

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

Sounds painful. No.

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

Science, probably.

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

No.

26: What are you craving right now?

In terms of food? And meat, nothing specific. Non-food? Physical affection.

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

Potentially? I've rejected enough guys to have probably broken at least one of their hearts.

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

Never been in a relationship.

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

Never been in a relationship.

30: What’s irritating you right now?

So many of these questions involving something romantic or sexual. I'm aroace and it's infuriating.

31: Does somebody love you?

Couldn't tell you.

32: What is your favourite color?

Red.

33: Do you have trust issues?

A bit.

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

I think gnomes were involved?

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

Can't remember.

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

No.

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

Forgetting is easier. Mainly because my memory is shit and I hold grudges.

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

Not by a long shot.

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

FOR FUCK'S SAKE. REFER TO QUESTION 30.

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

No?

51: Favourite food?

Bacon.

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

No.

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

Scroll Tumblr.

54: Is cheating ever okay?

Cheating as in infidelity? If the relationship in question is unhealthy and non-consensual, yes. Otherwise, no. Cheating as in violating academic integrity? Yeah it's fine.

55: Are you mean?

A bit?

56: How many people have you fist fought?

One.

57: Do you believe in true love?

No. Love is dead.

58: Favourite weather?

Fog. Cold fog.

59: Do you like the snow?

Yes.

60: Do you wanna get married?

NO WAY IN HELL.

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

No?

62: What makes you happy?

My bed.

63: Would you change your name?

I have plans to! Transgenderism, baby!

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

30.

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

I'm pretty sure he does, I just ignore it.

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

No.

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

My father.

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

I don't have those.

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

No. Love is dead.

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

No.

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[bunny-jpeg]

sinful sentences (thirteen)

jenson button - "I want to make you mine."

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/45), flirty!reader, unprotected sex & baby trapping, doggy style, jenson is smitten (read: unhinged), dark-ish themes

sinful sentences catalogue

you were a flirt, that was what you were good at. flash a pretty smile, wear a low-cut top and any man would happily give over some cash. flutter your eyelashes and give them a sweet laugh at their corny jokes, and the bills grew in value.

jenson was smitten, needy for your attention. he loved how you felt in his hands, how his lips felt against yours. and when he was lucky, his cock snug inside of your achy, soaked cunt. maybe it was time getting to him and missing so-called glory days. but he liked the little flirt he often saw at the bar, and he liked taking you home.

but he believed that you could do a hell of a lot better than the bar you frequented. someone quiet, secluded, with an apron around your waist, dinner on the table and his child growing in your belly.

"hey, beautiful." he purred as he draped an arm around you, "look a little lonely tonight." his lips grazed your jaw, "sad that no one's giving you attention, tinkerbell?"

"shut up." you replied and when you looked at him. when your gaze met his, he pulled you in for a heated kiss. that shut you up quite quickly. you hated it, he had this way with you that made your core simmer.

"i want to make you mine." he said, "tonight."

"i could never be yours, jenson. don't be stupid." you laughed.

there was a reason why all the men got to look but not touch, but jenson often got handfuls of your flesh and his cock buried inside of you. when he pulled away from the kiss, he smiled at you, " are you done, tinkerbell? gonna be good for me?" he leaned in, "because my wallet is feeling a little heavy, and i think you could lighten the load."

and then like a lamb you tucked yourself closer to him. you knew you were a slut for his attention, he was older, wiser, wealthier. he knew what he could get from you and it made you aroused. it didn't hurt that his cock was rather big and he knew exactly how to use it.

"when have i ever been good for you?" you asked playfully.

jenson chuckled lowly, "that's what i like to hear. causing my problems, making me watch you be a total fucking flirt. but you always come back to me." he kissed your cheek.

"are you going to give me what i want?" you asked softly as you played with the top button of the light blue shirt he wore. you then spread your hand across his chest, "please?"

jenson's smile grew, "of course, honey. i'll always give you what you want. but, you have to be a good girl for me. so put away the teeth, angel, and let's have some fun tonight."

you ended up back at his home, the expensive kind of apartment with a price tag that made most raise their eyebrows. he had the money so why not spend it.

he was quick to undress you, and while the couch was closer he did have the capacity to be a gentleman and guided you to the bedroom. your clothes remained in a pile on the floor in the living room as he shepred you into the bedroom. then, when you got through the door he got you up in his arms and onto the bed.

"hands and knees, beautiful."

"are you going to use a condom?"

jenson flashed that winner's smile, "of course, tinkerbell. gotta play it safe for you, right?" the plan was turning in his head. easy to lie with your face in the covers. he patted your cheek and leaned in to kiss you on the lips. you tasted like cranberry juice and vodka, and he tasted like rum and coke.

his other hand on your thigh as he held you. his cock stirred in his jeans at the taste of you against him. you felt like something else, you could scam your way into some cash with just a few smiles. but jenson was greedy.

"hands and knees, beautiful. i want to see that pretty pussy and that lovely ass of yours." he chuckled before he pulled away and you got on your chest and knees with your ass in the air. perfect for him.

jenson played with your pussy as he got undressed, he dragged his fingers across it. played with your clit and even sank his digits into you. he felt the tight wet heat and he wondered how many men ran through you before. but, that didn't matter now. not when he had you in his metaphorical jaws.

it'll be the only cock you needed now, jenson would take care of his wife. there wasn't even a question if you would be his wife or not. he knew you'd walk down that aisle. he wasn't raising his baby without a ring on your finger.

you held onto the pillow under your head and heard him move around once he was undressed. you looked over and saw him get a condom out a desk drawer and you exhaled a sigh of relief. he smiled wickedly when you put your face back into the pillows.

when you weren't looking at him, the unused condom was dumped in the waste bin. he said as he approached you, his heavy cock bobbed as he got up behind you on the bed. he admired the glossiness of your cunt and licked his lips.

all for him, only for him.

he sank into you, no protection keeping that pretty pussy of yours safe. no, tonight you were going to take jenson raw. the thought excited him as he shifted his knees on the bed to get a better angle to fuck you. he pressed you at the middle of your shoulders, pushing you further into the bed with your pretty ass up against his hips. you felt amazing, the tight heat of your cunt wrapped up around him.

jenson button was one lucky bastard tonight.

he rocked up into you. his movements started off slow yet powerful. he moved up against you, both hands at your hips. he used it as leverage to move against you. it felt amazing, your cunt held onto him tightly.

like your body knew it wanted to get pregnant. and who was jenson to deny a beautiful woman what she so desired. your words said one thing and your body said another.

"fuck, jenson." you shuddered as the thrusts grew. his pace had his cock pressed up into your deepest parts. it made you panting against covers as he fucked you further into them. your breathing was heavier as you cunt fluttered around him.

the pleasure clouded your mind, all rationale was out the window. you didn't even question him that he actually put the condom on. your brain was flooded with the intense heat of pleasure. you gasped into the covers as the pleasure grew in your core.

there was something thumping in your soul from his movements and your core swam with a yearning for him. the way he fucked you, even when it was rough, quick sex. there was something about it that made your head swim with lust.

damn jenson button for knowing exactly how to get you going, how to pull orgasms out of you like a rabbit from a hat.

"you feel like heaven, honey. my little fucking tinkerbell with your fairy wings that i wanna pluck from you." he wrapped his arms around you and battered his cock into you. this pace quickened and you felt your foundation shake. his words were filthy and it lit a fire in your belly.

he continued to fuck you. he pressed his weight further down on you and made you squirm when his pace became brutal. he knew exactly how to keep you under him. you thought you were getting a nice payday from this, but you were going to walk a way with a bit more than some fresh euros stuffed in your purse.

more like his cum stuffed into your slick pussy, right where it belonged. don't worry, after you have his first kid he'll let out have a break, but he hoped within a decade you two will have three little button kids running around. of course he'll buy a nice house for your little growing family. but tonight, the logistics weren't important, tonight he was on a mission.

get his little tinkerbell, the girl desperate for male attention, nice and pregnant with his kid. then everything else will fall into place. his movements quickened till he was fucking you right into the mattress. his breathing was heavy and his body tense as he fucked you.

the bed creaked a little as you panted heavily into the covers. you whined, "fuck, jenson! i'm close!" then arched your back quite a bit as you felt climax begin to take its hold on you.

"that's it, beautiful. let it out for me. good girl, good girl." he cooed lowly and it made you head swim with heated want as you felt the throb in your body of climax. jenson knew your body better than you knew it yourself.

jenson kept up his pace. he fucked you with a simmering heat. he didn't last much longer, he couldn't have. he could feel the pleasure in his gut as soon finished inside of you. as climax hit, he shoved his entire length into you. made sure that the tip of his cock became familiar with the base of your cervix. they'd become quite acquainted over the next few months.

"fuck, jenson." you gasped as his pace slowed down and he gave you a playful smack on the behind.

"better than the rest, huh?" he said as he leaned over you, kept his softening cock inside of you for a moment. he kissed the shell of your ear and felt your tremble.

in a moment of post-orgasm weakness you croaked, "yes." and jenson felt nothing but a sense of pride that tonight he got you pregnant.

-

large hand on a swollen belly. been a whine since you've been at the bar and it's been only a few weeks since you became jenson button's wife. no late nights seeking the flirty attention of men older than you.

one of them finally got you tied down and in a few months you were going to be the mother to his child. his hands were still greedy for the softness of your hips, his tongue still wanted to explore your mouth. now he could whenever he wanted.

his hand grazed your middle, he loved the feeling of it. you looked so good. looked proper even when you struggled a little to get off the couch. you carried the baby well, even if it made you rely on jenson a little more (not that he was complaining)

you still don't know how it happened, but jenson simply shrugged and said, "miracles happen every day. and this one is ours." shutting down any questions about misuse of protection. all it took was one night and one little lie, and now jenson button clipped the wings of his little tinkerbell. <3

[nanamimizz]

𝐓𝚬𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝚶𝐍.

this is a commissioned work. reader’s appearance is described. thank you @isseimattsun for commissioning me !

tags: 18+ minors dni. friends to lovers / virginity loss / confessions / fuck or die trope / omegaverse / alpha jing yuan / omega reader / afab reader / gendered language / mating press / size difference / manhandling / creampie - let me know if i missed something !

synopsis: you and the general were friends. it’s all you ever thought you would be but when they revelation of your truer nature the general finds himself at the back door to the greatest temptation of all.

Life upon the Xianzhou Loufu is riddled with many other things depending on who it is you ask the answers vary.

History, tragedy, mystery, betrayal - each tied to each brush stroke that records the events of the Xianzhou’s long life. One of the many hands that holds that brush is the Divination Commission, at the Seat of Foresight. The brush of history currently paints a worrying picture, following the events of the Stellaron Crisis where each and everyone in the Commission running around - even the esteemed Master Diviner Fu Xuan has been ran into the ground with the weight of paperwork and preparation. You shudder to recall the first few days after the crisis, the entire office reeked of juneberry, sickly sweet with omega agitation and anxiety.

If one grimaces at the idea of Master Fu Xuan run ragged it pales in comparison to the reality you live in. You are a simple person with a simple role - just a runner of correspondence for Master Fu Xuan to a list of important individuals. Your role has made you jump from ship to ship, many times you have stood in the presence of the speedster General Fei Xiao and you remember how you scrubbed at your clothes to get rid of the smell of alpha musk. Your nose wrinkles as you recall more and more times the scents of your peers and superiors made you curl in disgust; how many times you’ve scrubbed your hands raw when keeping your uniform clean. It had always bothered you, even back when you were a child how the scents of others imprinted onto everything.

No one had a scrap of discretion because you could take a whiff and find what another was thinking - you utterly detested it. When you came of age and you had access to suppressants you were quick to ask for the strongest ones. Something that blocks out your scent completely. Something that gives you the privacy you so want in this world where everyone wears their heart on their scent glands. You didn’t care for anything else - not with how since you presented boys would make fun of you until your scent soured and girls would dig at you with questions for being the only omega in the class until your scent bristled. You hated that, the constant invasion of others just because of what your secondary sex was.

Yes, you utterly loathed it enough so that you take a hundred something milligrams of omega suppressants on the dot twice a month and don’t read any of the warnings on the neat little orange bottle you depend on.

Unexpected heat cycles. High Fevers. High risk of cardiac arrest.

As you make your way to the gates leading to the seat of General Jing Yuan, you bring a hand up to loosen your collar - suddenly finding it to be hotter than usual. The tablet in your hand creaks under your grip as you feel some heat in your chest at the thought of the general. It’s always been like this you think, your chest warming when you go to your desk and see you will be delivering paperwork directly to Jing Yuan even for two centuries. You make your way to the final doors and are met with the same giant, holographic chess board. In the soft white light of the room, his own hair glimmers like silver and there - in a split second you can see the tiredness on his face before he hears of your entering and like the lightning he wields it’s gone in a flash.

The same, infallible look of control settled on his handsome face as he turned to look at you. Golden gaze softening in some sort of warmth when he greets you, more affectionate then people would assume - in a life like the general’s it makes sense why people would wonder. You are no stranger to the achievements of the High Cloud Quintet, the fabled heroes are known far and wide in the Luofu but what is not known is the hole it left in Jing Yuan’s heart, none but you. It was a while ago, maybe after the first hundred years of being his messenger between himself and Master Fu Xuan that you caught a scent that did not usually appear in the notes of osmanthus. It was chance, maybe fate that you bore witness to the acid scent of grief but you have made it a bit of your goal to treat the General with more warmth that is expected of you as a mere correspondent.

It began with small things - questions of his day, of the chess game in the room. You even managed to get to play a game with him even at the cost of being reprimanded for taking so long to return or the overwhelming quick and humiliating loss you had at the hands of the erudite general. It had begun a bit of a tradition for the two of you, often sneaking in a quick game when you can and even when you couldn’t. He says your name, voice deep and soft: you bring your eyes to him and smile as you always do, not exactly grinning but one that reaches a little further than the polite ones you share over the water cooler in the office.

“It’s been too long my dear friend. I’ve been looking forward to our next match.” Hos smile turns feline as you snort and shake your head, amusement painting your face.

“General please, you saw me naught but two days ago. And you can forget the match - I’ve grown tired of the constant humiliation of you besting me.”

Jing Yuan laughs, deep from his chest - a deep baritone that warms your stomach, eyes crinkling affectionately. A droplet of sweat drips down your neck as you swallow, you can feel one of your black curls cling to your neck from the heat that grows more sweltering every minute.

“Now, now. You’ve improved in the short time we’ve played together.” The eye visible to you is wide and sparkling with something you can’t decipher.

“You’re lasting longer each time. It makes the game much more enjoyable.” He purrs the words, eyes lidded and if you weren’t so focused on the boiling heat that grows more and for fiercely in your blood you would pick up on the twitching of his nose and lips as if he wants to taste the air itself. Golden eyes with the keen glint of a lion in the grass picks up on the flush to your cheeks and the shimmer of sweat on the curves of your collarbones.

“Is that so?” You ask, not really paying attention to the man before you - hands going to grasp your hair and tie it high too cool off. A scent feels Jing Yuan’s nose and if he had a tail it would swish behind him in keen interest. Citrus and honey with ginger - sweet and wonderfully spiced fills the room.

Something you have never smelled of. Your scent has always been mild disinfectant. Never offensive to the palate but it was present, odd. Clean and stark like a doctor’s office. It was clear that you were on some sort of suppressant due to your lack of natural scent.

“Yes, quite, so please - join me for a game. You have the time, no?” He asks and you blink a few times before giving your answer. A brief, absent nod of your head and when Jing Yuan goes to place one large, warm hand rough from wielding the glaive on the silver of skin your uniform exposes on your shoulder ; you break out into shivers despite the heat swimming in your head. Maybe sitting on the floor will cool you off? And maybe the game will take your mind off how hot the room is. The hand on your shoulder remains with his thumb carefully rubbing at the skin - a gesture meant to convey the level of casual friendship between the two of you but instead it makes you feel like you were shocked.

Your nerves fizz and frazzle, and the heat that’s been plaguing you suddenly turns into mind-numbing coldness. The ends of your vision swims, and you hear a pitched ringing along with a muffled voice. Your hands feel empty, like there is no flesh or bone or blood filling them. The sensation spreads down to your legs and your shoulder and your neck. Like a puppet without strings, when you go to take the first step to play the game with Jing Yuan - your general, your friend had offered, you collapsed.

The world had turned black.

…

When you awake, the sky is orange - it’s around sunset and your vision though clearly is still foggy at the edges. You are not in your home, you muddled your way to that conclusion from how spacious the room you are in is, with regal decorations that you most certainly do not own. Your thoughts are slow and breathing is an intensive labor, you need to think to take in each gulp of air in your dry throat. Turning your head is a slow manner and you are greeted with an arrangement of potted plants in front of a training courtyard.

Your vision is blurred at its edges and your hearing is clogged - like your ears needing to be popped after hopping off a sky-craft joy ride. There are voices, from the room next door, muffled and unclear but you can pick up the stress in their tones. Just as you try to focus, scrunching your brows and shaking your head as if to clear the brain fog you feel it.

A burning sharp pain followed by a gaping ache just below your stomach. You whine so very high and so very loud as the ache is all you can think about now that you have been pulled from the embrace of fitful sleep. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts - a needy voice in your head rings. Your back arches as another drop of sweat drips down the curve of your spine. The parts of your brain that haven’t been melted out of your ears buzz in confusion. What type of sickness have you gotten that’s making you act like this? Another wave of pain fills you as you squirm, turning to press your head into the cool pillow. You groan into the pillowcase and try to focus on anything other than the pain you feel resounding your weary body. Seeking any sort of distraction to unknowingly take a whiff of the pillowcase your face is pressed into and pick up on one certain scent.

The only one you’ve ever enjoyed since you presented.

Osmanthus.

You whine into the pillow and haplessly press your thighs together as you think about the matching golden eyes of the man who smells just like those golden leaves. Silver white hair and a mole that catches your attention like the stars in the false sky of the Xianzhou ship night cycle. A pristinely, handsome alpha with broad shoulders and a sculpted body that smells earthy and sweet. The words in your mind fizzle out and your eyes flutter close with thought of him. Jing Yuan, a voice in your head whines, its unfamiliar tone a bell in your mind. It repeats again and again and it isn’t until you feel a large hand, one calloused and so incredibly warm that it makes your skin break into goosebumps wraps around the wrist of the hand that’s been gripping the fabric under you so desperately.

Your name is spoken into the now darker room, uttered from plush lips that belong to the man you were just thinking about.

Pinned under golden irises you freeze, gazing up at him with your lips parted as your chest heaves. The state you are in, it enhances everything you felt when you first saw him today. Your general, your friend, your Jing Yuan is here - right before you. Pleased chirps escape your mouth as something inside you purrs and the ache between your legs softens now that you aren’t alone being teased with the faint scent of an alpha. In your elation you don’t notice the flush to his ears and face, how Jing Yuan’s eyes go between your face and your chest. His thumb rubs at the skin of your wrist and his tongue flashes briefly to wet his lips before he speaks.

Your name leaves his lips again before he asks you - “Do you know where you are?”

As you shake your head side to side a strand of hair sticks to your lips. With the opposite hand Jing Yuan carefully removes it from your lips and something in his chest tightens at the feeling of your hair around his calloused finger.

“You are in my home. You had collapsed when you had visited me. I contacted Divine Master Fu Xuan and had a doctor check you over as you rested.” The deep scent of osmanthus sours to you and you whine in displeasure. To soothe you, Jing Yuan lifts his hand rest against your cheek and something in his stomach churns the way you curve your face into the hold of his palm. He’s never seen you like this - rose flushed and wanting and so utterly dependent. In the time he has known you, all you have ever striven for, to be seen as aloof and unattached. Never swayed by anything and to follow your tasks but he’s seen small cracks of your true self in the years he’s known you - the way your eyes brighten when you deliver him correspondence or how you soften your tone to speak to him for who he is not the role he inherited from his successor. The scent of sweetened citrus is coying at his nose as he takes in the flush that burns down to your exposed chest - you were stripped out of your uniform when looked over as they were soaked with sweat.

Locks of your hair are clinging to your dewy skin and Jing Yuan does his best to avert his gaze. You mumble something, breathe hot and thin - “What’s wrong with me?” Jing Yuan tenses in your hold and his head drops down as he cannot look at you when he delivers the painful truth to you.

“It’s a heat - rather, your first heat. Due to your constant use of suppressants you have developed an unexpected tolerance to them. As of right now, they will no longer have an effect on you.”

Your silence is deafening and Jing Yuan dares not to look at your face as he continues.

“You must pass through this heat. If not your fever will rise dangerously and your life will be at risk.” All he gets from you is a quiet and stifled sob, one that makes the alpha in him yelp at the sound of a distressed omega in his presence. Jing Yuan is quick to draw you close and keep you covered with the blanket, pressing your face into his neck so you may experience the comfort of an alpha’s scent to ease you through your distress. It works as you take each tearful mouthful of his rich scent and taste the osmanthus on your tongue.

“I’ve never shared a heat with anyone, I’ve never shared anything like this with anyone - there is no one I can ask for that. How can I see this through?” You mumble with a watery voice, croaking with defeat as you nudge your nose against the general’s scent gland, unknowing to how the man shifts beneath you. You can feel some of the oil of his scent gland rub off on your nose as you begin to settle ; eyes going half lidded and your body temperature grows higher and higher. A warm hand settles on your tan back, fingers playing with the ends of your hair to soothe as your own scent grows sweeter in his embrace. Your words echo in Jing Yuan’s head as a semblance of shame takes root in his mind. His hand that had sat at your waist to support your current position twitches as his sharp mind comes to the most obvious conclusion - even if it was the one that brought him the most shame.

“Share it with me.” His rich voice murmurs into your ear, voice soft with a sort of tenderness he only reserves for you. He offers to play games and share meals with you in the same voice. And it makes your needy body swoon with relief - that an alpha wants you, and wants to take care of you. The side of you, that was always kept under lock and key, is deeply coveted by the man you call a friend you never had once thought was possible. It doesn’t surprise any Aeon when you utter your consent, to let him see you, touch you and have you in the ways you always skirted around when told about them in your youth. What is surprising is when you mumble out these next three words.

“I love you.”

A hand cups your face, just like before and the ache between your legs is back stronger than ever. A gold eye gleams like lightning as it bores through you down to your bone mourn.

“When this is done in the upcoming days - will you still love me, as you do now in this moment?” The answer is easy and resoundingly simple. A truth you shed like the peel of an orange.

“I always have, my Jing Yuan.”

The room becomes hot after your confession. Hotter than a fever rising to pitch, hotter than electricity, hotter than your heat. It’s sweltering even in the soft kisses Jing Yuan presses onto your lips. Even in the methodical way he touches your back and your waist, feeling you up until you move an arm back to get rid of the blanket that’s been protecting your dignity. The touch of his calluses on your tan back makes you moan in between kisses and the alpha before you is overrun but orange-sweet omega want.

It’s what makes him push you down, gripping your shoulders and applying the barest hint of his strength to your form until your glistening back is flush with the bedding before you. Your knees go over his thighs, pinned beneath him and spread like a butterfly - all for him to see. It’s what you want ; you realize as the heat in your body running like a fever hits it’s peak. The clarity through the rush makes you realize your friend, your general, your Jing Yuan is here. His hands, warm and large have sneaked under the wires of your bra and you are half thankful and half not that you don’t have your glasses on so you can live peacefully without the image of him - flushed with a predatory look in his melted gold eye haunting you every time your own eyes closed. Jing Yuan lets his hands cup at the softness of your chest, thumbing and pinching and molding your pliable plushness to fit in his hands.

“How lovely - much better than any imagination.” He murmurs to you, all alpha pride and desire. It’s enough to make you whine and squirm, your stomach sweating and flushing at what he implied. That he thought of you before, that he has wanted you for so long. Your hands come to the back, he stops to watch you. Unhooking the back of the soaked through clothing that protects your modesty is ripped off of you by your own hands. As your own lithe fingers go down to tug at your underwear, shuddering when you catch sight of how the thin fabric has become translucent in your wanting you whine out to him -

“Stop playing and fuck me. Please.” You whine paired with a wobbling lip as you spread your legs out for him, settling your heels on the bedding so he can see the webs of slick that drip out and down your inner thighs. Like threads of melted sugar the alpha within in the general salivates at the thought of suck sweetness being claimed and then being only for him. It’s why he agrees, nodding with a chuckle to deep you almost thought you made it up in your head and you gasp when two hands push and push at your legs until your knees are at your chest.

“One thousand apologies, I never would have imagined you’d be so needy.” When you are better you will curse him, you think far in the back of the mind where you are still sane enough to flush red at the position you are in. While you are whinny and petulant and utterly needy his voice remains as polished as cultivated jade and cool as steel. More words leave his lips, praise glazed in hot sugar like hawthorn berries as you feel the fat head of something press against the seam of your cunt. Trying to get a look, you go to angle your head down only for a strong hand to wrap around your chin to keep you from moving. No pressure, just his hand there - and your eyes see the pink on his skin, some sweat on his cheek and a dilated pupil, full like the moon.

“Don’t look, don’t look away from me. Not ever.” His voice is ragged with desperation, illustrious jade cracking as his cock is pressed flush against the opening of your cunt. You nod, pressing your forehead to his - white hair soft against your skin as the way his cock goes in and stretches you out is not. It’s pleasurable, the way it’s heavy and hot and thick inside of you but - your body knows what it needs, and what it needs is Jing Yuan to fuck the heat away, to make it all better. His cock keeps going, sliding in and in as you gasp with your jaw dropped over it, drooling. You feel a thumb of the hands that’s keeping your head upright rub at your cheek then at your lip and then his thumb is placed right at your tongue. A smile takes his face but it is not cool or kind - a ravenous hunger awaits in his canines as he looks down at you.

“I will always be here to see you like this, understand? Only me. Never go out to others for this ever.” He murmurs to you as his moves his hips back dragging his length through you only to push it forward again. As you nod at his words you realize what that is -he’s fucking you.

And it’s all you ever want.

It’s going to be hard, to go back to not having this every second of every day. It feels so good, like your body is melting from the inside out with every clap of his hips against your ass. Too much, you had warbled to him in a pathetic and wet voice. Your eyes are glazed over and your head is tilting to show off your neck - subconsciously. But you know you don’t care about rationally, even when you know better. Taught from an early age that an omega should never show the part of their neck where the softest bit of your skin is located. Not unless they were showing it to an alpha that want to be with forever, and when the head of Jing Yuan’s cock fills you and kisses a soft nerve on your inner wall that makes your body seize from pleasure - yes you think, you want forever with Jing Yuan. You want to smell of osmanthus and you want to play Star Chess for as long as he wants and you want to feel like this with him forever.

“Bond with me - please, please.” You utter through sheer desperation , letting your ankles cross at the small of his waist to keep him as close as possible. He comes down, a smile with the sweetened smugness of his lips as his chest pressed down on yours. His weight is comforting and his hips don’t stop fucking you even like this. You gasp and he teases you - “Are you sure? You want to be mine and only mine?”

You answer with a nod, with a whine and even with your hips canting up to fuck yourself back on his cock mindlessly.

“Such a good girl.” He tells you, voice soft with affection at how you can’t even utter what it is you want.

All of it is too much for him - even a general as finely crafted as him crumbles under the weight of his want. His hands go to your ass and they each take as much as they can to lift your lower half off the bedding and to keep you in the air so he can fuck you just like that. Like a toy for him to use while his nose presses against your scent gland, tonguing at the nerve just to make you shiver and cry. With a laugh his mouth at it next and it makes your eyes roll back as you feel something prod at your lower half. A flare of girth and length that teases at the lips of your cunt at right when you feel the pin prick of strong teeth dig into your skin you feel it slip in.

His knot.

Your cunt welcomes it just like it did with the rest of his cock, stretching you out so well it aches as you finally teeter off the edge. You cream around the bulb of it and you squirm when you feel your and his cum drip out the seams of your cunt. It’s wet and messy but as your hips still rock back and forth on it you only for his weight to pin you down on the bed. A kiss is pressed to your cheek, then to your eyes and your forehead. The hand that kept your head upright is now massaging at your sore thigh. You mumble something - a cross of thank yous and his name and Jing Yuan shushing you kindly.

“There, there, rest for now my sweet - we have all the time you need.” He murmurs voice endowed with adoration and patience. You nod and your body losses its tenseness at his command and it’s buzzing how good obeying him feels. Craning your head you kiss him one last time, filled with him and his bite mark on your neck.

“I love you, I’ve always loved you.” You murmur, clear from an sickness of the heart and with resounding clarity. It makes him laugh, how puppy like you are now with how he has you. He kisses you back.

“As I you, my love.”

[toonice113]

Paper rings ᥫ᭡ Q. Hughes

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Moments of your relationship with Quinn who you love so much you would marry even if he proposed with paper rings.

Warnings: mentions of weed, mentions of drinking, not proofread

Word count: 3.8k (counting the lyrics)

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚ I’m so excited for my first of three Valentine’s day series, hope you enjoy my first ever Quinn story and if you’re reading this go vote on the poll for what the other two stories should be!

The moon is high like your friends were the night that we first met went home and tried to stalk you on the internet now I've read all of the books beside your bed

You’d heard about Quinn Hughes before, how could you not when your friend group was also his friend group? But having transferred to the University of Michigan during your Junior year meant you had just missed meeting him as he had left for Vancouver the semester prior. Tonight however, you were meeting the infamous Quinn as he was in town visiting and you had been invited to the night out. You and a few other friends had decided to start the night bar hopping while the rest of the group opted for meeting you at the final bar, and that’s how you found yourself slightly intoxicated, you were responsible enough to only drink a little at each bar not wanting to be wasted before you met the rest of the group, at The Smoked Hut finally reuniting with all your friends, one of them, clearly high indicated by the red of his eyes and his notably more relaxed mood that you knew only came after he smoke a little, finally introduced you to Quinn and from the moment you saw him you were smitten, the rest of the night only solidified your little crush as you basked in his easy going personality and warm smile. That night back in your apartment the first thing you did was google him, finding out about his brothers, his parents, his hockey career and even what his favorite books were, feeling like a stalker you sighed closing the tabs and turning your laptop off before quickly turning it back on and ordering one of the books he had mentioned rationalizing the purchase with the thought of your goal for this year being to read more.

The wine is cold like the shoulder that I gave you in the street cat and mouse for a month or two or three now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

“You know, I was thinking” Quinn says closing his book from his spot next to me in ou bed “Back when we first met, the first night I thought ‘wow that is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen’”

“Mmm did you really?” You hum closing your laptop deciding you’re done with work for the night 

“Yeah I did, and then we had this great night with friends” He brushes a strand of hair off my face

“James made it great with his rendition of it’s all coming back to me now” You interrupt him with a laugh, he chuckles with you 

“The full version not the radio one” He adds “But then the next time I visited you didn’t even look at me twice, you said hi and that was it and I thought you hated me”

“I didn’t hate you” You tell him “On the contrary I had a huge crush on you and I thought if I spoke to you I would only embarrass myself” 

“So what changed your mind when you all came to visit?” You think back to the trip your friend group made to vancouver, you’d stayed for a couple of days and caught one of Quinn’s games

“Elena, she had just gotten with her boyfriend at the time and it all started because she took initiative, so I thought if she could do it so could I” You tell him about your roommate 

“And so you came to Vancouver, wore my jersey and made me fall in love with you” Quinn smiles at you 

“Well, no” You shake your head “If I remember correctly I tried flirting with you and you shot me down so I decided to give up on it all” 

“I didn’t shot you down” You raise your eyebrows at him “You just made me nervous, but I made it up to you the next time I saw you” He did, the next time he visited Michigan he finally asked you out on a date and a couple weeks later, even though you were in different countries you started a long distance relationship that followed you through college until now, here where you laid in Quinn’s arms in your shared apartment in Vancouver.

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright three times 'cause I've waited my whole life

“Here you go” Quinn passed you a cup of hot chocolate giving you a kiss on your forehead before sitting next to you pulling you close to him “Wanna talk about it?” 

You sigh “It’s just a lot, There’s too much to do and every time I think I’ve got the workload under control new things are added into the pile” Tears threaten to spill from all the stress you’ve been carrying for the past few days 

“What can I do?” Quinn asks, you put your cup in the coffee table moving closer until you are almost on top of him 

“Just… be here” You tell him and he pulls you into a deep kiss only breaking it when you start running out of air, your head falls onto his shoulder, your own shoulders tense 

“It’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be alright, and I’ll be here for whatever you need” He says and when you look up at him, your teary eyes twinkling under the soft light of the lamp behind you he can’t help but to pull you in for yet another kiss 

“I love you” You whisper once the kiss is done “Thank you for being here” 

“I love you too” This time you are the one who kisses him, a sweet kiss that turns into a makeout session that ends with your clothes sprawled across the living room floor as you show each other just how much love you feel.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings uh huh, that's right darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this uh huh, that's right darling, you're the one I want in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams oh, you're the one I want

“That ring was crazy” You tell Quinn as you both get into his car after finishing dinner with some of your college friends “Like we agree it was too much right?”

Quinn laughs starting the car “What, you don’t like shiny diamonds?” 

“I do, I love shiny things” You motion to your bracelets that shimmer with the reflection of the street lights “But that was too much, I swear her finger has to hurt from carrying that ring around” 

“Okay, taking note” Your boyfriend says, making you chuckle “Make sure that the engagement ring is not too big, but how big is too big?” 

“Quinn, my love you don’t need to worry about that” You tell him laughing “I know there’s no way you’d choose something as horrific as that” 

“But I want it to be perfect” He looks at you as you stop at a street light “You deserve the best of the best and I want to make you happy”

“I don’t need a big diamond to be happy, I have you and that’s enough” You stroke his cheek, his stubble scratching against your fingers, he hums in contentment closing his eyes for a moment before the car behind you honks when the light turns to green

“Still, I’ll get you the best ring I can find, if not diamonds, maybe emeralds? Or what about sapphires?” He asks 

“Huggy, I would marry you with paper rings if that meant I got to spend the rest of my life with you” You tell him and he takes your hand that he was holding onto to his lips, giving you a kiss while keeping his eyes on the road 

“You can’t say things like that when I’m driving” He says 

“And why not?” You ask 

“Because all I want after hearing those words is to show my girl how much I love her and- Fuck” His free hand slams against the steering wheel when he looks at the traffic in front of you, the cars slowly coming to a stop and you know you won’t be getting home any time soon, you laugh at his reaction and he can’t help the smile that pops in his face at the sound of you.

In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool when you jumped in first, I went in too I'm with you even if it makes me blue

You were in Michigan for a quick, rare, christmas with the Hughes, everyone was here, Ellen, Jim, Luke, Jack and a few more family members and friends, currently you were playing Jenga in the living room with a few of the Hughes cousins, it was the third time the tower har been rebuilt and so far one of the boy’s cousin, Isaac, and Quinn had lost, the next person to knock the wooden blocks down was joining the boys into the punishment, jumping in the pool, you were trying your best to survive till the end of the round, your tongue out as you pushed one of the blocks gently before pulling it from the other side holding your breath without noticing it, everything was fine until you placed the block on top, Luke cheered next to you and you swear his breath was the reason the tower fell. 

Walking outside with Isaac and Quinn you were already shivering, you had left your jacket inside wearing only a thin long sleeve and your yoga pants with no socks because you refused to wear wet socks ever “Don’t think about it just jump” Isaac said before following his words with the action and cannonballing into the pool

“Ready?” Quinn asked, you turned to the windows seeing everyone that had partaken in the game watching intently waiting for you both to jump in too “Hey it’s just a quick in and out, I’ll go first okay?” You nod cursing Luke mentally once again for breathing too hard and too close to the tower 

The splash from Quinn jumping into the pool meant you were next, bracing yourself, yet not giving yourself too much time to think about it, following Isaac’s words, you jumped in, a yelp coming out of you as your body submerged into the icy water, the group inside cheering at all three of you in the pool, a few phones taking pictures of you three.

The cheers seemed to bring in the attention of the older adults, Ellen rushing out with towels and blankets “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get out of there now, you’re gonna get sick!” She called out and all three of you scrambled out bundling yourselves into the towels and then a blanket on top seeking some relief from the harsh cold “Isaac, Quinn how could you do this to y/n? C’mon on sweet girl let’s get you inside and into dry clothes” She pulled you in a side hug guiding you inside, the boys followed quickly “No no” She stopped them once you arrived at the doors “You are not bringing water in you wait here until your brothers bring you clothes” 

“But ma it’s freezing” Quinn complained shaking 

“Aunt Ellen she’s wet too” Isaac gestured at you, still wrapped under Ellen’s arms 

“And I’m sure this wasn’t her idea” Ellen says to the guys “There’s always consequences to your actions, think about it” You hid your laugh from Ellen after seeing the boy’s faces in disbelief, you were sure Quinn and his brothers, and probably Isaac too, had heard those words coming from Ellen’s lips a thousand times while growing up from what you had heard about their childhood. “Jack get your cousin and your brother some dry warm clothes” 

Which takes me back to the color that we painted your brother's wall honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws we wouldn't be standing here so tall, so

“Are you sure this is the right color?” Quinn asks in disgust looking at the can of navy blue paint in his hands

“Yes Quintin, that is the color I chose for my room walls” Luke remarks making you chuckle “Not all of us like boring beige walls”

“But it’s so dark” Quinn complains once again “And my walls are not boring, right baby?” He asks you 

“No, your agreeable grey walls are very agreeable honey” You tell him holding in a laugh that you can’t help but let out when Luke bursts out laughing 

“Hey I was cleaning the drawers in the garage and I found these, you wanna keep them or should I throw them away?” Jack walks in holding a jar filled with little red and pink paper rolls and a candle, you were all doing some cleaning of the lake house before the rest of your friends arrived for the summer

“What is that?” You ask moving closer to Jack and taking the jar out of his hand

“Nothing important” Quinn takes it out of your hands before you get a chance to inspect it “Throw it away” 

“Hey!” You complain “I was curious” 

“It’s date ideas” Luke tells you from the other side of his room where he is taping whatever he doesn’t want the paint to cover “From Lainey”

“Luke” Quinn says sternly

“Lainey?” You hum remembering Quinn briefly mentioning one of his high school girlfriends with the same name 

“I didn’t know these were still around” Your boyfriend says quickly “I’m sorry” 

“Why are you apologizing?” You ask confused “Didn’t you date this girl in high school?” He nods “So why should it matter? We didn’t even know each other when it happened and I don’t really think that you are still hung up on your high school girlfriend after all these years just because your brother found some old gifts in the garage”

Quinn sighs “So trash, okay got it” Jack starts walking out after Quinn hands him the jar and you stop him before he leaves

“Wait! Is the candle scented?” Jack looks at it and nods “Give me” 

“It’s probably expired just let him throw it away” Quinn tells you, you wave Jack away keeping the candle 

“Do candles expire?” Luke asks and you shrug your shoulders 

“I don’t know but this smells nice” You say taking the cap off and sniffling it “We can put it in one of the guest bathrooms, maybe the UMich guys one, your friends are stinky” You tell Luke who shrugs in agreement 

When you walk out of the room to put the candle in the bathroom Quinn follows “I really promise I didn’t know that was still there or I would’ve gotten rid of it a long time ago” 

“I know Quinn, like i said this is from a long time ago, you had a life before me just like I had one before you” You say softly “And yet through it all we found our way to each other and that’s all that matters” 

Kiss you once 'cause I know you had a long night kiss you twice 'cause it's gonna be alright three times 'cause you waited your whole life

Sighing you check your phone one more time before starting the car, the score changed, but nothing good, in fact the other team scored another goal and with one minute left in the period you know there’s a very slim chance of the Canucks coming back from a 4-1. Pulling out of your work’s parking lot you start driving to the arena, showing your badge when you arrive and parking in Quinn’s parking spot, by the time you had arrived to pick Quinn up, the game had been over for around 10 minutes so you got out of the driver’s seat and sat in the passenger’s while you waited for your boyfriend to come out. You had never before picked Quinn up, usually when you came to the games you would take a cab to the arena and leave with him, but this time his car had broke down the day before and he had asked if you could drop him off and then pick him up after you were done with work and the game was over, you had accepted with hope that you might finish work early and get a chance to watch part of the game but your meeting had run late and by the time you were leaving for the arena it was too late.

A knock on the window made you look up from your phone, Petey was standing outside the car and you got out to say hi “Heads up, he had a rough night” He said into your hug and you thanked him once you let go, he waved and went to his car, Quinn coming out not too long after, you were still waiting outside of the car and the moment he saw you his tense shoulders relaxed and his eyes softened as he hugged you 

“That felt so long” He mumbled into your lips after you pulled him into a kiss

“I can imagine” You say to him “But it’s okay, it’s still early on in the season, have some faith” You kiss him again and feel him melt into you “Let’s go home and rest yeah?” 

“Mmm just one more” He pulls you into another kiss “Okay let’s go I don’t want to be here anymore” 

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings uh huh, that's right darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this uh huh, that's right

You had just come back from a girls trip, after being incredibly busy with work Quinn had treated you and your three best friends to a week away at a five star hotel in Punta Cana, it was the middle of summer and you had expected to arrive to a loud full lake house, but instead, when the uber that you had insisted on taking so Quinn didn’t have to drive all the way to the airport for you, you stood in front of a quiet and what seemed to be empty house. You walked in and found it weird that you boyfriend wasn’t waiting for you by the door, leaving your suitcase by the front door you walked through the house realizing that you were in fact alone, seeing a note from afar you assumed it was from the boys letting you know where everyone was, but when you got closer you noticed two paper rings on top of a sticky note that read ‘Thank you for making me the happiest person alive + becoming my love + best friend’ you gasped in surprise at it, your eyes filling with tears.

Behind you Quinn walked out of the pantry where he had hidden when he saw your uber pulling up in the driveway after sending his brothers a message that you had arrived so they could start driving the boat back from where he had sent them so you could all hopefully celebrate together after you said yes. He was nervous but reassured himself that this was something you had talked about before and you had told him, multiple times, that you could imagine a future with him “Since the first day I saw you, I knew I belonged to you, meeting you was like listening to a new song and knowing it would be my favorite” He spoke up making you jump a little before you turned around, the two rings in one hand, post it in the other “You make me feel so light and like every minute I get to live with you is a minute well spent, we could spend hours in silence and yet I’d still feel so full, y/n you are my first thought when I wake up and my last when I go to sleep, every love song suddenly fits us” By now he’s standing in front of you, holding your hands gently so you don’t drop the items in them “I found you without looking and I love you without trying, my heart is so full of you I’m not sure I can still call it my own, I swear I can’t love you more than I do right now, yet I know tomorrow I will love you more, so y/n, my love, with paper rings I’m asking you, Would you do me the honor of being the happiest man alive by being able to call myself your husband and love you a little more every day for the rest of our days?” He took one of the rings from your hands kneeling down, not being able to formulate any words you nod, he places the ring on your finger before getting up and kissing you deeply “I do have an actual ring” He fumbles with his pocket until he pulls out a gorgeous ring “I looked for diamond alternatives after we talked about it last, I thought you might like this one, but if you don’t then we can keep the paper ones until we find the perfect one” 

“Oh Quinny, this is… this is more than perfect” You look at the shiny ring that sits next to the paper one “Both of these are perfect and I love you so much” You kiss him once more “I can’t even… wow, I don’t even know how to follow that speech”

He chuckles holding you closer “You don’t have to say anything baby, the yes was enough for me”

You both what the back door open slightly, as if the person opening it wanted to be sneaky but failed miserably, when you both turn to look Jack stands there looking embarrassed about being caught sneaking in “I was tasked with checking on where you were with um… everything” 

“We’ll be right out” Quinn chuckles at his brother who nods and walks out “Ready to go celebrate with everyone?” 

“Everyone? I thought the house was empty” You say confused 

He hold you close and pulls you towards the backyard “Well it was” He explains “I sent everyone out on the boat so they wouldn’t spoil anything before I could ask”

“So?” Trevor asks as everyone looks at you expectantly, instead of replying you lift your left hand where both of your rings lay “Oh thank god, do you know how hard it is to make paper rings? Quinn had us watching tutorials for days!” Cole slaps his head as everyone laughs before rushing towards you to congratulate you.

Darling, you're the one I want in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams oh, you're the one I want I want to drive away with you I want your complications too I want your dreary Mondays wrap your arms around me, baby boy

[slut4hee]

Why You So Obsessed With Me?

{Paring: Bully Nicholas x Bully EJ x Blk Fem! Reader

{Genre: smut, kinda fluffy? High school au, (they’re 18), just Nicho and juju being lowkey down bad for a blk queen, they’re kinda mean tbh, 18+ so (mdni).

{Synopsis: In which the two most popular and attractive boys in your school, like to tease and bully you. Little do you know, they both secretly harbor a deep crush on you.

{Warnings: explicit scenes, rough smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up buddy, safety first!), fingering, oral (m&f receiving), threesome, dirty talk, ass slapping, degrading, they’re both big perverts, public sex (they fuck in the bathroom stall, touching body parts without permission, hair pulling, backshots (make her tap out 😏), tag teaming 😩, lmk I missed anything

—————————————————————————

You hummed and sing along to the music that was playing inside your AirPods. Just like any other day, you’re walking to the bus stop, to wait for the school bus. But of course, you could never have a peaceful walk to bus stop, without your two high school bullies ruining your morning.

You jumped, startled when someone came from behind you, and pulled your AirPod out of your ear. You looked up to see EJ, grinning at you as he placed your AirPod inside his ear.

You rolled your eyes, smacking your teeth before trying to snatch your AirPod out of his ear. Which you obviously failed to do, his tall frame towering over you, as he took the AirPod out of his ear, holding it up high.

“Give it back EJ, I don’t have time for your shit today” You said annoyed, jumping up and down trying to reach your AirPod, your tits practically bouncing in his face. EJ stared at your chest shamelessly, that stupid grin on his face, that you hate yourself for finding so attractive.

“Maybe if you ask very nicely, I’ll give it back to you mama” He said smugly, waving the white gadget around in the air. You looked at him in disbelief, who the fuck did he take you for? You being nice to Him? Fuck no!

“Fuck I look like being polite to you? Now quit playing games with me and give me back my shit Euijoo!!” You shouted, clenching your fist and stomping your feet. EJ just giggled at your actions, finding you so adorable when you get so frustrated like that.

Suddenly you heard another familiar voice coming from behind you, but before you could turn around, you felt a sharp sting land on your ass, Nicholas Wang had slapped your booty like he always does every time he see you

“Ouch! What the fuck is wrong with you bro” You yelled, rubbing your sore cheek and huffing annoyingly. You couldn’t fucking stand these two idiots.

“Sorry not sorry baby girl, you put it out there, and I’m just simply appreciating it” Nicholas said, his deep voice giving you butterflies, which you obviously would never admit out loud. Finally the familiar sight of the school bus pulling up, brought somewhat relief to you, they surely couldn’t bother you as much on the bus, because the bus driver is always monitoring.

EJ finally gave you back your AirPod, throwing it at you and not forgetting to give you a shit eating grin, before he stepped onto the bus. Nicholas stared at you for a moment, biting his lips and smirking before following behind EJ. You waited for them to both get on, so you could get on peacefully without them pushing or trying to grope you.

You stepped onto bus, looking around at the other usual students on the bus. You saw that Nicholas and EJ decided to sit in the far back, and you were so relieved they didn’t sit anywhere you would sit. But of course, they know you like an opened book, they knew you always sat in the front or the middle, so Nicholas quickly got up and pulled you to the back with them.

“What the hell are you doing, let go of me motherfucker” You said angry, as Nicholas sat you in the seat between him and EJ. They both looked at you and then each other, smirking mischievously.

You instantly grew nervous at that gesture, they always had that look when they were up to no good, that time you all went on a school trip and they both tricked you into going into a haunted house, and then leaving you behind to find your own way out. But this time it was lot more mischievous, they both placed their hand on your each one of your plush thighs, softly squeezing and caressing the flesh.

Your breath hitched, your eyes widened as you looked up at them, they were looking straight ahead but they had that same naughty smirk on their faces. They start to squeeze and pinch your thighs a little harder, you let out an embarrassing squeak, covering your mouth and looking around to see if anyone heard or witnessing what’s happening right now.

You hate yourself for starting to get turned on by their in inappropriate behavior, your panties starting to feel damp. Finally Nicholas turned to look at you, his gaze so intense and predatory. His hand went lower between your legs, inching closer towards your now embarrassing wet core, his fingers grazing the hem of your cotton panties.

EJ also turned to look, but he didn’t waste any time, his hand falling between your legs, and making contact with your warm clothed pussy. He chuckled lowly, when he felt that you were wet inside your panties, rubbing little circles on your clit through your soaked underwear.

“Look how wet this slut is, she’s fucking soaking herself” EJ whispered to Nicholas, now sliding his hand inside your panties, his fingers swiping through your wet folds. You cursed at yourself for deciding to wear a pleated skirt today, you’re basically allowing them easy access.

You couldn’t believe this was happening, they’ve never went to the extreme level like this before. I mean of course they grabbed and slapped on your ass on the daily basis, and touched your boobs without your permission. But yet here you were, getting your pussy fingered by them on the school bus, in a public fucking setting.

The disgusting part about it is, you’re not even trying to stop them, you could have screamed for help, fought back, shit you could have reported them a long ass time ago. But some sick parts of you liked it, you loved the attention you get from them, the attention that all the other girls in your school craved for yet you were the one who receiving it all.

“Look at that, wet little pussy begging for some attention, who would have known you were such a filthy little whore mama” Nicholas spat quietly at you, his fingers now sliding inside your tight cunt, curling them and pushing them back and forth inside you. Meanwhile EJ was abusing your clitoris, rubbing fast little circles as he stared into your eyes, mocking your facial expressions.

Your hand was held tightly around your mouth, muffling your moans and cries, as you felt the familiar feeling of your high approaching. Your pussy clenching tightly around Nicholas’s fingers, making it hard for him to move. He groaned quietly before spreading your legs a little more, watching his fingers disappear in and out of your pussy.

“Fuck she’s gonna cum, pussy squeezing my fingers like crazy” Nicholas chuckled, his long digits curling up just the right way. EJ leaned down to whisper in your ear, forcing you to keep looking at him, as they both bring you to your breaking point.

“Come on princess, let that pretty pussy cum” He said pinching your puffy clit. That’s what sent you over the edge. You came hard around their fingers, EJ rubbing his hand faster on your pussy, as you squirted your arousal everywhere, staining the seats and floor. They both groaned at the sight of your pussy quivering, as you rode out your high.

“Fuck that was so hot, pretty little bitch squirted everywhere” EJ said, chuckling as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, tasting your sweet essence. Nicholas did the same, smirking and staring at you, as he licked his digits clean humming at the yummy taste.

Your body laid there spent and weak, you couldn’t believe that just happened, you also couldn’t lie and say that wasn’t the best orgasm you ever had in your life. Finally the bus had stopped, and you all arrived at the school building. You tried to quickly get up and run away but your body betrayed, your legs wobbling and almost giving out on you.

“Woah there princess, take it easy babe, I mean you did just let us slut you out on the bus” Nicholas said smugly, holding you by the waist and helping you stand up straight. EJ winked before hopping off the bus going on his merry way. Nicholas helped you off the bus, you finally gained your strength back and jerked away from him, giving him the death glare, he gave you a cheeky grin before walking off

“See you around, pretty little thing”

//

You managed to make it through your first, 2nd, and third period. Now it was lunch time, and you were sitting with your two best friends, Keisha, and Megan. Not too far from you, Nicholas and EJ sat at the table with their group of friends, all jocks and Troublemakers. They were always so obnoxiously loud, either shouting about sports or the last girl they banged.

“I can’t fucking stand their asses” Keisha said, rolling her eyes as she sucked on her lollipop, offering you one in the process, of course you took it because you loved candy.

“But they’re all so fine as hell though, especially EJ, girl the things I’ll let him do to me” Megan said, staring over at EJ with lust in her eyes. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but her words kind of irritated you, yes he wasn’t your boyfriend and he bothered you every chance he got, but some parts of you felt like he was yours.

You pretty much stayed quiet, only humming and nodding at what they were saying. You opened up the lollipop, tossing the wrapper somewhere on the table before engulfing the cherry goddess inside your mouth. As you’re licking and sucking on the candy, your phone vibrated with a message notification, you looked at a screen to see a message from Nicholas himself.

Stupid Ass🙄: You look like a good little slut sucking on that lollipop princess.

Your eyes widened as you quickly put your phone in your lap, your heart hammering in your chest. You looked up to see Nicholas already staring at you, a shit eating grin plastered on his face, his confident aura was radiating from all the way where he was seated.

You: could you not be a sick pervert for once, and leave me the fuck alone 😡🖕🏽

You replied back, looking back over at his table. He opened your message, and looked back at you smirking as always, you could tell he was chucking to himself as well.

Stupid Ass🙄: Now why would I do that? You’re just too fun to play with😈 now be a good little slut and deep throat that lolly.

You looked at the message in disbelief, your eyes looking back over at the table, and this time Both Nicholas and EJ’s eyes were on you all at once. You rolled your eyes, and mouthed fuck you at them before replying to his message.

You: You both can go to hell, now stop texting me please.

You simply replied, putting your phone down, directing your attention back towards your best friends conversation they were having. Then your phone buzzed again, you scoffed annoyingly to yourself, grabbing your phone from the table.

Stupid Ass🙄: Oh? Are you disobeying right now? Tsk that’s not very nice isn’t it. Then ig you wouldn’t mind me and juju telling the whole team how you whored yourself out for us on the bus this morning hm?😏

Your grip on your phone tightened, looking over at the table once again, but this time with fear and anxiety in your eyes. You couldn’t afford to get exposed, you were captain of the cheerleading team, also class president of most of your classes and all your teachers and peers loved you. How would they feel, if they knew you let not one but two boys finger you on the school bus.

Your fingers typed so fast, as you quickly responded to the message.

You: No pls! Pls don’t tell anyone I can’t afford to be exposed like that pls I’ll do it I’ll do it

You pleaded in your message, looking at them with desperation written all over your face. They both looked at each other and grinned before gesturing you to go on. You hesitantly put the lollipop back into your mouth, sucking and licking on it as if it was a dick. They both stared at you with hunger and dark hooded eyes. You slowly pushed the lollipop down your throat, as far as it could go before you met your limit and choked on it.

“Oh shit girl you okay, slow down it’s all yours girly pop” Keisha giggled at your coughing fit, patting your back in the process. You finally caught your breath, and looked back over at their table, they were both smirking and high fiving themselves discreetly.

Stupid Ass🙄: Good girl, see that wasn’t so hard was it?😉

//

It was now the ending of the day, and you were in your last class which was math, your favorite subject. You were always first to finish your work, walking over to the teacher’s desk and handing her your homework. You asked permission to go to the bathroom, and of course the teacher said yes with no problem, being that you weren’t a know troublemaker. Your footsteps were the only noise that could be heard in the quiet halls, classroom doors shut and not a soul in sight.

That’s what you thought….

You heard a whistle and you turned around to see EJ and Nicholas leaning against the lockers, that same mischievous facial expression they always have on their faces. You tried to ignore them, walking a little bit faster now, but you could still hear the footsteps behind you, getting closer and closer. Your heart beating out of your chest, your palms starting to feel sweaty, as you quickly ran into the girls bathroom.

You stepped into a stall, slamming the door shut and locking it. You leaned against the door, panting and trying to catch your breath, you just hoped they decided to back off now that you ran into the girls bathroom. You were obviously stupid to think that, if they didn’t give a fuck about violating you inside the school bus full of other students, you think they’d care about coming into the girls bathroom?

And that’s exactly what happened, the door to bathroom squeaked open, and footsteps were heard coming in. Your breath hitched, as you held your chest, your ears ringing and fear taking over your body. Their mischievous chuckles echoed off the restroom walls, knocking on each of the bathroom stalls.

“Are you hiding from us Y/n, we promise we just wanna play with you” EJ said softly, faking innocence as he stands in front of the stall you’re in. You didn’t say a word, hoping that silent treatment will make them go away, but who were you kidding?

“We know you’re in there pretty, just open up door for us okay? This time Nicholas spoke, knocking softly on the stall once again. You knew you couldn’t hide in here forever, and they weren’t gonna leave until you opened the door, so you just accepted your fate and unlocked the stall door.

They pushed the door open, their tall figures standing over you, as they pushed you further into the stall and trapping the three of you in. The stall was now cramped, the air was so suffocating as you held your breath, bracing yourself for their next move. EJ grabbed you by the waist, forcing you to turn around, your backside now facing his front.

His hot breath tickled your neck, pulling your hair to the side, as he started to leave soft wet kisses on your neck and earlobe. Nicholas also came beside you, kissing on the other side of your neck, his hand now groping your boobs through your crop top.

“Don’t act like you don’t fucking want this princess, we know deep down you’re just a filthy little whore who wants her holes filled” EJ said smugly, his hand disappearing under your skirt, squeezing your asscheek. You yelped at the sudden gesture, trying to move his hand but he quickly jerked your hand away, continuing to grope your plump booty.

“S-stop, this is not appropriate” You managed to blurt out, your voice shaky as you tried to conceal the sounds that threatened to come out. Nicholas smiled against your neck, gently nipping at the flesh before pulling away and turning you to face him, as he leaned down to be face level with you.

“Oh so now you care about what’s appropriate and what’s not? You didn’t seem to care when me and Ju were knuckles deep inside your kitty on the bus” He whispered in your ear, slightly licking your face, as he hummed at taste of your soft brown skin you tasted like sweet vanilla.

Your face burned with embarrassment, as you remembered the scene from earlier, your legs propped open, as they abused your cunt with their long fingers. Your thighs clenched, squeezing them together, you were getting so turned on again. EJ grabbed your face roughly but not too rough where it hurts, but just to put the message out there who’s in charge.

“Tell me baby girl, can you be a good girl for me and Nicho hm?” EJ said softly, ghosting his lips against yours, the faint smell of pepper mint under his breath filling your nostrils. You nodded, succumbing to the pleasure, and giving away yourself for their pleasure and yours. EJ gave you a cheeky smile, before his lips smashed against yours, the kiss was hungry and intense.

Nicholas on the other hand, busied himself with removing your clothes, pulling your skirt and panties down. You gasped against EJ’s mouth, the cold air hitting your bare cunt. Now you see what the hype was about Juju being a great kisser, his lips were moving smoothly against yours, soft pillowy lips eating your face off.

“Fuck such a pretty kitty, can I have taste sweetheart” He didn’t wait for any response from you, dropping to his knees, coming face to face with your dripping pussy. EJ finally broke the kiss, panting and licking the excess lipgloss off his lips. You moaned a little too loudly, at the sudden feeling of Nicholas tongue licking a stripe of your pussy.

He groaned at the sweet taste, now licking and sucking on your puffy clit. You looked down at him, the sight of his head buried between your legs was so erotic, his eyes were closed as he loses himself between your legs. EJ helped you remove your top and bra, your big tits bouncing free, he cursed under his breath at the sight of them, now fondling them in his big hands.

“Oh fuckkk, Nicho!” You whined, now gripping onto his hair roughly, at the overwhelming feeling of his tongue sliding inside your hole. He looked at you, not breaking eye contact, as he eats what you have to offer.

“These juicy fucking tits, you have a body of a fucking pornstar, I swear” EJ groaned, as he started to suck on your tits, licking and swirling his tongue around your brown nipples. You whined pathetically, the pleasure was almost unbearable, Nicholas was sucking harshly on clit, when EJ was sucking harshly on your sensitive nipples.

“Nicho, fuck- EJ I’m g-gonna cum!” You cried out, your legs shaking and your pussy clenched around nothing, your greedy hole begging to be filled.

“Yes baby girl, let go for us, give it to us darling” Nicholas said muffled against your pussy, and that’s what sent you over the edge. EJ quickly covered your mouth before you could scream, as you came hard on Nicho’s face, tears gathering in your waterlines it felt so damn good.

He continued to eat you, helping you ride out your high until you got overstimulated, pushing at his head to stop. He brought his head from between your legs, his chin glistening with your arousal. You already looked so fucked out, sweat covering your forehead, and your hair disheveled.

“Now it’s our time to have some fun princess, EJ said smugly as always, smirking mischievously as he started to unbuckle his jeans, Nicholas did the same, both pulling down their pants halfway, just enough to free their cocks from their boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight of their hard dicks, EJ’s cock was definitely longer than Nicholas’s, his slender and tall figure making it make sense.

But Nicholas was a lot more thicker in girth than Juju, his thick cock twitching and throbbing. Nicholas took a seat on the toilet, spreading his legs open, as he starts to pump his cock at the sight of your nude body on full display.

“On your knees now, got a little treat for you baby” Nicholas said teasingly, enticing you by wiggling his dick around. You got down on your knees, coming face to face with his leaking cock. You grabbed ahold of the base of it, stroking it nice and slowly. His body jolted, cock pulsating as you kissed on the tip.

“F-ffuck, shit baby no time to tease, suck my fucking cock” He grunted, gripping your hair tightly, you whined at that, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing through his body. EJ brought your attention back to him, as landed a harsh smack to your asscheeks, your booty jigging from the impact.

“Fuck look at this beautiful ass, so fucking fat” EJ drooled, smacking on your asscheeks hard again, before leaning down and kissing the spot he spanked.

“Open up pretty girl, say ahh” Nicholas said, rubbing his tip against your plump lips. You opened your mouth wide, his cock sliding in, you started to sucked slowly looking up at him as you do.

“Fuuuckkl yeah, just like that shiiitt” Nicholas moaned, throwing his head back at the feeling of your warm mouth, your lips felt so good around him. Juju on the other hand, was prepping you, fingering your pussy and getting you all wet to take his cock. He let a glob of spit fall in between your cheeks, before he aligned himself with your hole.

“Deep breaths for me baby girl, gonna fuck this pussy so good and hard” EJ said cheeky, before you felt his thick mushroom tip breaching your tight little hole. You gasp around Nicho’s cock, the sudden intrusion and intense stretch catching you off guard.

“Ohh shitt, pussy so fucking tight, goddamnit” EJ said through gritted teeth, letting you adjust to his size, before pull almost all the way out just to slam back into you. You moaned around Nicho’s cock again, the air being knocked out of your lungs, as juju starts fucking you deep.

“Look at you, such a greedy little hoe, that you need two cocks to satisfy you” Nicholas spat, grabbing ahold of your face, slowly starting to fuck your throat. Your pussy clenched around EJ’s dick, causing him to let out a deep groan, Nicho’s degrading words were turning you on.

“She’s fucking squeezing me so tight Nic, think enjoys being treated like a little fucktoy” EJ chuckled, picking up his pace, as he bent your back a little bit more, and started pounding into you. The sounds of you slurping and choking on Nicho’s dick, and your ass colliding with Juju’s ruthless thrusts, echoed throughout the empty bathroom, if anyone was to walk In right you all would be fucked.

“Fuck yes yes yes, EJ so fucking deep, so fucking good” You screamed, as he yanked you by your hair, pulling your body flush to his, as he beats your pussy in. Nicholas, pulled you back towards him, tapping his dick on your face before sliding back inside your mouth.

“Your mouth feels soo good princess, nice to know it’s not only good for talking shit” He grunted, fucking your throat a little rougher, as spit drips down your chin. You felt the familiar tingling feeling inside your stomach, your high approaching rapidly. EJ must have sensed it, his fingers going to rub little circles around your clit.

“You gonna cum again baby, gonna make a mess all over my dick?” EJ whispered, biting at your earlobe as he his hands moved faster, his hips never slowing down. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your throat and pussy getting abused at the same time. Finally the band snapped, and you came hard around his dick, creaming all over him.

The tight clenching triggered EJ’s orgasm, as he painted your gummy walls white, Nicholas followed behind, shooting thick ropes of cum down your throat. They both continued to take turns on you, fucking your pussy sore and abusing your throat.

“𝖡𝖺𝖻𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅”

“𝖯𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅”

“𝖮𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅”

The End….

A/n: this might be the most nastiest, slutiest fic I ever wrote😧 I’m ovulating please excuse my madness😪 this was so hot i can’t!!! Reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated🫶🏽 𝗂 didn’t proof read bestie 😁

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Taglist:

@i03jae @ataver @ancnymcnzjy @kolawnk @kisspurins



[spread-the-influence]

i'm sorry this has been my roman empire SINCE i entered the fandom i have to get even more into detail . please forgive me for another essay

i don't want to bash on people's interpretations of ragatha because at the end of the day we will only truly know her once the other 5 episodes of tadc release .

so , i am Not going to list stuff i don't like . INSTEAD i'm just going to go into what i think is often missing when it comes to ragatha because my problem with fanon content of her is that she doesn't Feel like Ragatha enough . she often times feel more like a predisposed caretaker character that will have whispers of ragatha's flaws but none of , like , The Character if you get what i'm saying .

SILLINESS - this is the one that sticks out the most to me because it's Very obvious when there's not enough silliness in a ragatha . again , she's emotionally immature , which is apparent in her dialogue and gestures . maybe it's the psychology nerd in me but i Never really got mom vibes from her , i always saw everything she does as an epitome of anxious attachment i ammm not against putting her in a mom-child dynamic , i am not against the concept of mom ragatha and i have seen a fic that executed that well . it's just that when i see it pulled off , it's often ignoring that she puts one million emotional walls between herself and everybody - and it also ignores that there have been many implications where she's Not as helpful as she seems . this also often leads to infantilizing pomni and i Do not like that as well

insincerity - this is something that makes me go INSANE when i see it represented . i need to see this girl be dishonest , or Lie . i think it's so fascinating how much she hides her feelings to keep others from not liking her . i also think this is one thing i always find missing whenever i see other people's ragathas . there's just not enough of that insincerity . i'm not saying you should make her Lie all the time i'm saying that ragatha puts up a mask and is constantly thinking about what'll make the other person not hate her . she's just not a genuine person , which doesn't really help you on forming deep and personal relationships .

instability - ragatha does Not have her shit together i'm sorry . she wants people to like her to the point it's unhealthy and she has a grasp on her happy mask tighter than gangle's . this woman is a cocktail of internal issues . her self-esteem is Six Foot Underground . i have joked that she would do drugs if given the chance and guess what this bitch is at high risk of developing an addiction — now she's not like completely dysfunctional . but something to note is that her coping mechanisms are : Suppress Everything That Makes You Feel Bad , Ignore Your Pain , and Rely On Other People's Approval . we still don't know exactly Why she does those other than ' to not abstract ' , believe it or not they're still up for interpretation right now but yeah those are the stuff she does .

Does this make anyone else think of how the fandom treats Ragatha?

ehh i feel like the fandom has done a good job of acknowledging her flaws and how she's a people pleaser . if there's a problem i have with the general characterization of ragatha really , it's that there's just so little ... ragathaness in it ??

to put it into words , i feel like not a lot of people grasp that ragatha , at her core , is Emotionally Immature . she doesn't really act like her age . and i'm not saying that turning 30 means you have it all together and all of your problems disappear , it's more like that if we Ignored pomni and ragatha's appearances and compared their actions together , people would've thought that ragatha was Younger than her .

and this is intentional to show the contrast between them . pomni , whenever she's having The Conversation™ , tries to understand and offer suggestions . ragatha , i'm sure she does lend a listening ear but i do not trust ragatha " Toxic Positivity Incarnate " tadc to give advice that isn't as surface level as ' just don't worry about it ! ' or ' keep smiling ! ' , which is already kind of implied through gangle's dialogue

it just puts me off in a lot of fanon content . like i would read a fic and then i had to put it down because i'm like No ragatha knows too much about what she's doing She Literally Never Does that's her point please a ragatha is not complete without some element of anxiety , insincerity , and silliness i have the ragatha recipe right here

[gamblersdoll]

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡, 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝—

youre just a girl, who should be pampered, but you arent.. at least, not for very long. smut BACKSHOTTTSSSSS, , drug use, heavy angst

you hated how rin knew what to hit, how to hit, and when. it made a heart beat in your clit, going baaadump! baadump! baadump! you hated how he knew how many strokes it took , then pulling out to eat it..

it made your heart throb, feeling his tongue work itself to death and he looked at you through your creamy, frothy folds. it felt like a traditional soul tie, but it felt.. so so good. felt like no other man could make you cream so good.

it also felt like he was your everything, maybe it was just your low ego— feeling like no one could outdo rin. like no other man could ever be better than him. your relationship was like a gift, feeling so secure and loving the small moments and thought rin could give.

“hey baby,” that ‘baby’ hed mumble on the phone after practice, you could hear his relaxed voice when he just laid down. “how was work? any problems?” he was semi interested, but it wasnt noticeable to you at the time.

“twas okay, i guess..” you mumbled, wide awake at eleven pm just for him, to only giggle and play a little of the game. it felt like a dream sometimes, too good to be true and he made you feel like a pretty baby. “would you maybe.. come over? you dont have to.”

the tip of his mushroom dick was steady, always slamming into that gummy spot that made you see stars— slam! slam! slaam!

“rinrinrinnn!” you squealed, patting at his biceps and rolling your eyes, feeling like some bitch in heat the way he pulled your hips back— backshots were his favorite..

“so gah’damned needy..” he mumbled, pressing down the lower of your back to deepen the arch. “your form is so stiff.. do you not please yourself when im gone?” he asked, knowing hed slap your cunny with that heavy hand he used to train.

“nuh— uhhhh!” you moaned, words high pitched and eyes crossing. “jus’ you! swear!”

“mm.. seems like shes telling the truth.” he mumbles, pressing the pad of his thumb to your taint at the end of your slit. “so vocal for me, too.. do you feel no shame in how wet you sound?”

it doesnt take much of anything to get your rocks off, like the greedy girl he knew you were. he could have you riding his knee, and he could get you to ride out your orgasm in a heart beat.

so.. what was your problem? he made somethings feel like a dream, he fucked you when you wanted him to, and he was an upcoming striker, so whats your deal—

the feeling and sound of his phone went off, he pausing all movements to grab it. “hey-“ he hurriedly said, you staring in disbelief that hed answer a little phone call in the middle of your .. session. “yeah, ill be there in ten minutes.” the call ends, and you scoff. “what?”

“you’re seriously leaving me? “ you ask, just to confirm he wasnt playing with your brain, but he only confirmed that with a look of ‘..yeah?’ you felt like you could scream, all sexual feeling leaving your body. “deadass?”

“yes, baby. you know i have practice.”

“you couldnt even come in me before you left? you just dropped everything for that!” you wanted to laugh in disbelief, but who were you to do that? “know what? go, just leave, please.”

“we’ll finish up later.. kay?”

there was never a later, because he dedicated himself to soccer.. and there was your problem—

he never made time for you.

the times he did try and make time were your “dreamy moments,” because he tried to go all out, to make up for months he wasnt there. the feeling of his kisses soothed you, and when he smoked? he was more than a dream.

the smell of cherry leaves and weed filled your lungs, and he stole your breath each second he could. the pads of his fingers digging into plush thighs and a needy hand up your back had you feeling ecstatic. “rin—“

“missed me?” he inquired, a small spank on your thighs. “yeah, you did.” he snickers, kissing down to your collarbone. “got a few minutes before practice.”

“how longgg— oh!” you squeak, feeling his hand squeezing your breast. they were heavy due to ovulation, and so, so tender. “rinnn, please.”

‘rin! where’d you go man?’ one of his teammates called for him, and it left you feeling defeated.

he just.. didnt see you as a priority.

“why havent you been answering my calls?” he just so decided that he could finally get to your place unannounced and ask a question like that. “we havent talked.”

“why would i bother to call? youre always busy.” you fold your arms, groggy since it was like.. twelve at night. “you dont answer any my calls.”

“because im at practice—“

“twenty four hours a day? no breaks?” you cut him off, growing agitated of his shit. why he expected you to answer his calls after maybe eight months of him barely answering your calls. “you dont see me as a priority, you dont see me anymore, you dont call or write. “

“because im trying to be japan’s best striker, the hell did you think of you being a priority?” his words stung, because if it was that serious— why ask you out? why ask you to be his? why even bother with it? “i thought you would understand where im coming from.”

“and i thought youd be able to handle a relationship, but guess not.” you think to yourself. you wanted to argue, but you had work in the morning.

“ill keep trying, im sorry.”

and if that was his ‘try,’ then what the fuck was the attempt or thought process? because his tries were pathetic, the same pace for the last nine months of your relationship. you felt emotionally detached, almost as if you were losing feelings for him— no, thats not it.. you had resentment. you had resentment for rin, for soccer, for rin mainly. it all tied back to him.

he became like a plague to you. you learned very quickly that if you didnt speak to him, youd never speak again probably.

you wanted to scream, but after a few deep breaths, your mind was clear. you wanted to be a decent person to him, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. but.. he wasnt acting like he was worth that benefit. you learned that sometimes you want to give them a chance, but that was merely your ego and pride being crushed because you did not care about yourself enough.

so, what else could you do?—

the line rang for maybe six times, rin always had it set to ring ten times for extra time for himself to answer (ironic, aint it?), but answered finally on the ninth ring. “im at practi—“

“it isnt working out, rin.” you cut him off, chewing at the pads of your thumb to cool yourself. the line was silent, but it felt like a suffocating weight on your back and chest. “im sorry.”

“mm, okay, well.” the fuck does he mean ‘okay, well?’ thats all he had to say? “i mean, good luck, i guess.” after a quick farewell, the line was ended, like a steak knife to the heart you wanted to give on a platter to him. but, beggars cant be choosers. It hurt though, because he acted like he didnt care about the fact you just broke up with him.

well, fuck him if he was in a fuck everything mood.

you pondered for hours, why was soccer more important? was it soccer that he was focused on or was it something— no, someone else? you wouldve saw it! you checked everything out, and it only lead to one thing:

he simply didnt see you important enough.

it had been an eternity, or at least thats what you were deluding yourself into. it had only been three months since the break up, yet you felt like it was wrong you were already out there in the dating pool again.

it actually wasnt, since six months out of the nine months that you dated rin you were detached and emotionally gone from the relationship. you had already did everything post break up: cry, eat ben and jerrys, watch a stupid show like greys anatomy or chicago med, and then the physical therapy sessions started— whether it was a new hair color, personality, piercings, or body modifications.

so what the fuck was the harm in dating?

“you deaf or something?” he asked, eyes sniping to you. “i asked if you were okay.”

“sorry! yeah, go ahead.” you offered him to go first in line, forgetting the fact you were in the middle of the store. “im really sorry, completely forgot i was here—“

“should i call someone for you?” it sounded good enough to have you cock back your hand ninety degrees back and come back at fifteen miles per hour. but in actuality, that was a joke.

a year.

a year, he shows up with some pitiful bouquet of flowers, a pity smile and a pitied hope. “hey,” he spoke up, and mainly— buffed a little more. “its been a while.”

“could i help you with something?” you ask, silky robe and you tied it tighter to not let the bits out. “its late, and its cold.. and its been a year.”

“i know, but still.. i figured some things out and—“

“think you runnin’ from it, huh?” a tuff of blonde and pink peak through the door, shidou towering over you and having a hand on your hip from behind. the worst goddamn time, but its technically rins fault. “oh! yer uhhhh..” he snaps his fingers and then points. “yer sae’s little brother, aye?”

rin gawks, the feeling of betrayal and envy. “who’re you?” the somewhat pretty flowers being crumpled and bent. “why are you with him of all people, this cockroach?”

“rin,” you say firm and gentle. “its been a year, i can date who i want , and shidou and i just kinda met..” its only worse that they know each other, you just knew how to pick em, huh? “was there something i can help you with?”

“yeah, being a better striker.”

“listen here—“ rin starts, and you feel shidou start to get heated from behind you, but luckily you were in the middle.

“rin!” you shout, but hes not focused on you, because hes merely angry that youre dating again.. and with a man like shidou. “we’re done, you have a good night rin— shidou, back inside.”

“damn, didnt know you could scream like that..” shidou snickers, leaving a soft smack on your rear. “see you later, loser.”

because why now of all times? why did rin decide now was the time to save you both and get back together? a whole goddamned year! a whole year he decided to wait—

a familiar hoodie walks briefly down the hall, standing briefly until he brings his hood down— sae itoshi, japans best player. “rin.” he nod to him, leaves you a kiss on the head and brushes past you and the door.

“youre fucking joking, right?” rin asked, also hearing shidou grow excited. “my fucking brother?”

“i didnt know he was your brother.” you retort, folding your arms and holding your own. “we met in the store.” because thats what happened, you didnt know they were related.

well…. maybe you did, its the eyes.

“and you still didnt do a .. i dunno, a background check? or even ask me?” he asked, and it catches sae’s attention.

“rin.” he starts, pulling the door wider to show shidou sprawled on the couch, tv lit and he in nothing but a shirt and shorts now. “we’re trying to have a good time, either you talk to my girl nice, or you have a good night.” he knew what pissed rin off, just enough. “ i quite frankly would like for you to have a good night. been wanting to see this movie for a month.”

a month?!

“awe, i thought she was our girl!” shidou perks up, a pouty frown until you wave him off. now wasnt the time.

“just how long were you dating?” rin asked, but sae waved him off. “dont ignore me, big brother!— fuck you!”

almost a year you were his, a year you werent.

and he had one objective for shidou and sae:

destroy, kill, and revenge.

property of gamblerdoll 2025. do not alter, copy, translate, or modify. dividers are not mine. please dm for credit since i lost the account ;-;

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART TWENTY

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: when the truth unfolds, are you ready to face it?

wc. 7.1k (DAMN)

warnings: mentions of suicide, depression, death, angst, fluff, comfort | authors note: i lowkey will not proof read this so ignore any typos TT but tysm for reading this series all the way through im super grateful and many more works will follow soon after so stay tuned!

(nowhere girl masterlist)

(One year later…)

Life has gotten more dull. At least that is what Yoon thinks when she sees you. It was ironic that after ten minutes of searching for you, she found you lying underneath a tree in the small patch of grassy fields in the middle of campus. She remembers a time way before that you hated grass—something about their sharp texture just irked you. It was like you disregarded life completely. The best way she can describe is if you were a flower, your petals were withering away. What was once a lively, bodacious flower is now fading in color and drooping.

She would’ve been concerned for your current behavior if you didn’t act like this the entire summer. All you did was coop yourself up in her guest room—it was aggravating, she thought she’d have a fun summer with you living with her at her family’s house. Her chance to get closer to you, but you preferred seclusion more.

When she calls your name, you don’t respond. Those fucking headphones. It’s like you can’t live without them ever since last winter. Seriously, sometimes Yoon just gets these urges to snatch them off your head so you can get back to reality and talk to real human beings.

You didn’t notice her stomping over to you. Not when your eyes were shut and you were about to doze off to the music blasting in your eardrums. You flutter your eyes open when you felt a soft nudge to your ribs. Yoon is towering over your lying body, her arms crossed and feeling irritated.

“Did you forget?” Yoon frowns.

Before you answer you sit up from the patchy fields and stretch your limbs out. You notice her growing impatient with you from the way she is tapping her foot. Removing your headphones, you quirk an eyebrow at her and say, “Forget what?”

Yoon rolls her eyes. “I’m in charge of managing our schools art gallery this winter and if you don’t get your ass in check it’ll blow back on me!”

“I know you’re charge of it.” you murmur, plainly. “It’s not like you mentioned it fifty thousand times the entire summer.”

Her eyebrows furrow. She wants to retort back but she’s gotten so used to your bitter antics that she just swallows it back. Deep down, she misses the old you—because you changed…she doesn’t want to admit it to herself. Frankly, no one in your small circles wants to point out to you your new brooding personality.

“How the hell are you able to lay in the cold this long? You’re actually insane.” Yoon shivers, rubbing her arms to warm herself up. You, however, seem unbothered by it.

You stand up and press your lips into a thin line, avoiding her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine just—we have to go now if we don’t want to be late. I bet everyone else is on their way and we only have till the end of the week to display everything.”

Sucking a deep breath in, you nod and pick your bag to sling it over your shoulders then follow Yoon across the other side of campus. The sharp winter air strikes your cheeks, a sensation you’ve grown fond of recently. A season that you used to disdain has started becoming your favorite. You like how eerie, dull, and quiet winter is—it’s soothing to the heart. Even if there is no sign of snow this December.

Entering the empty gallery, the place is littered with your past and present work. Sculptures, paintings, you name it. Your favorite piece, a sculpture of a person’s upper torso and head with the head hollowed out—inside the head is a small home with the only furniture being a couch and a singular painting. Or maybe it’s the long and narrow painting of two people walking in the rain, the entire painting only being in blue tones.

There are student volunteers when you and Yoon enter inside, helping arrange everything in the perfect spot. Immediately, Yoon gets to work and tells one of the freshmen to be careful when removing the bubble wrap from a small sculpture you made years ago.

You walk around the white large space with a strange bubbly feeling in your stomach that you haven’t felt in a while. It was bizarre seeing years of blood sweat and tears getting recognition. All it took was for you to lose everything—in classic tortured artist fashion.

“Woah. What is all this?”

Spinning around, you observe Mi-Cha pace over to you with her expression awestruck at every corner of the gallery.

“Didn’t you get my text?” you query. She blinks once at you. “My art. I’m going to sell it at our schools gallery—they choose me as the winner to get an exhibition for the winter.”

“Oh, fuck I must’ve missed that text. Sorry.” she says sheepishly and faceplams. You softly chuckle at her beet red face. “No way—this is so cool though. Your own gallery…This is like everything you worked for.”

“And I’m only getting started I guess.” you sigh, observing the volunteers unpack everything like it was made of thin glass. “I can’t believe this is our last year…I’m actually going to miss it.”

“We have to make the most of it which means…” she trails off you wrap her arms around your shoulders and gave it a playful squeeze.

You groan and throw your head back to look up at the porcelain ceiling. “Don’t tell me.”

“We have to go out—party, drinks, get wasted—“

“No.”

“The whole ordeal!” she beams. Her loudness startles one of the people around almost making them drop one of your works. Of course, Mi-Cha didn’t notice. “Come on, you need to enjoy your last moments of college life before we fully become adults because after that there’s no going back.”

Although she is right, you feel just fine in missing out on what it means to be a reckless young adult and drinking amidst the crisis of it all. You don’t think alcohol will benefit your case anyway. But lately, you feel like you’ve been bursting Mi-Cha’s spirit—you were a stormy cloud on her sunny day. So, that’s why you sigh in defeat.

“Fine—maybe.” you mutter.

“Good.”

You throw her a look, jaw slackening. “Anyway, how are you and your boyfriend—or is he your ex now from the last conversation we had about him?”

“Yeah, he’s my ex.” she snorts. “I guess we both can’t commit.”

“But was it you or him?”

“Eh. I’d say it’s a mutual thing. He graduated in the spring and now he has a big boy job so he has less time for me. And I don’t want to be a housewife waiting for the man to come back demanding for dinner to be ready.”

“How…inspiring?” you say, squinting your eyes.

“Thanks.” she smiles. “And what about you and that girl uh—oh god, I forgot her name…”

“Good. Because it didn’t work out.”

“Another one seriously? I thought you’d seriously commit yourself with this one.”

Feeling a flush come to your face, you clear your throat. “No.”

Mi-Cha knows exactly why but remains tight lipped and squeezes your sides. Your attempts at a love life have become a pitfall. Every single time.

The most common rebuttals your failed dates have given you were ‘Too quiet’, ‘Tend to be selfish’, ‘Inconsiderate’, and the most famous one, ‘Too closed off’. At first it felt like a sucker punch to the face but one can tell you these things so much til you don’t care anymore.

But the moments in which you are alone, which is most of the time, you think about the days where people told you the opposite. ‘Lively’, ‘Selfless’, ‘Kind’, and ‘Reckless’. You don’t know how the change began—where it came from, yes. But can’t pin point the moment you started changing—hell, you feel the same. But if everyone around you is saying otherwise then maybe you did. You just want things to be the same. Your life would’ve come with less loss if you didn’t get kicked out over a year ago. How is it possible to still be grieving over people who are still alive well and breathing?

“Oh, since you’re here could you take me to the computer lab and help me design a poster for my gallery one of these days? I really need your graphic design skills more than ever.” you say, hoping to stir the topic.

“Are you free tomorrow afternoon?”

“I think.” you hum. “I’ll let you know.”

“Hey—are you two going to help out or not?” Yoon snips behind the pair of you secluded in the corner of the building.

“Coming…” Mi-Cha grumbles and exchanges a look with you.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

The sharp edges of the envelope slices across your pointer finger. You wince, dropping the invitation letter in the process and suck on your finger to ease the bleeding pain. Maybe this was a sign not to do it. You stare down at the fallen invitation, contemplating. But of course you give in. It might be pathetic of you trying to invite your parents to the gallery, but you just want to rub it in their faces…and possibly win them over but you deny it to yourself.

You bend down to pick up the card and try to seal it again. After losing contact with them, the only way you could reach out is to mail them a letter.

Tossing on your coat and scarf, you leave your dormitory and head to the bus stop. At some point you briskly bump into someone’s shoulders and they might’ve muttered a curse or two at you, but that’s what happens when you drown in your music. Your headphones are a part of your bodily autonomy now—it’s the only way you can block the inner and external distractions.

After thirty minutes of blankly staring out the bus window with the music obviously blasting, you take your time walking to your parent’s house. It’s been so long since you’ve been here but you made it with ease, it will permanently be a muscle memory. You stealthily slip the letter into their mail box and walk at a much faster pace out the block. Since you’re nearby your childhood market, you decide to stop by and get some needed groceries for the dorms.

You became less stingy with money ever since your tuition fees have all paid off. Till this day, you have no clue how or who paid them off yet you’re silently grateful for this fairytale miracle.

The market was partially empty due to the cold weather, however, there were still some stands present. Not even can afford to shut their markets even in these icy conditions.

“Hi, ma’am.” you greet quietly to the elder lady selling kimchi. She gives you a look for the headphones, so you slide them off and order two bags worth of kimchi. Silently, she nods and starts packing them up for you.

While you pull out your wallet to pay, something nostalgic rings through your eardrums. A voice you haven’t heard in over a year.

You dart your eyes around like a hawk, trying to find the source of that voice. When you found it, time stops. Your chest feels heavy but your hands weaken causing you to drop your wallet and spilling your cards and coins all over the ground.

“Oh dear…” gasps the lady behind the stand. You blink back to reality and panic seeing your possessions on the floor.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” you hiss and scramble to pick everything up. It was worse when your hands kept trembling profusely. You messily shoved everything in your pockets, paid the lady and snatch the kimchi off her hands. You didn’t have time to be polite—you had to make your way over to, Ji-yeong.

“Ji…” you say airily as you jog over to the girl who’s purchasing soy sauce off of a vendor.

You’re confused. It is Ji-yeong but something about her seems strange. She looks…pristine? She’s always been a pretty girl but you remember her lack of desire to dress up. You always seen her sport a graphic tee with either sweats or baggy jeans but she’s presented more cleanly now. Her new attire is a long North Face puffer jacket, a fitted black top without any signs of wrinkles, and smooth dress pants. Her hair also seems shiny and soft like she just came out of a salon.

When she hears her name, her face contorts in confusion but her jaw completely drops when she sees you stand right next to her. She blinks rapidly at you, studying you up and down, but doesn’t say anything at first. The wind was knocked out of both of your lungs. Anyone walking past might assume you two are trying to read each other’s mind with how long you silently stare at each other.

But she is the first to speak up after clearing her throat, “Fuck…Hey, It’s been a long time!”

Anger starts boiling in your blood. The cold air is no match for the heat rushing to your face. “Hey? Is that…Is that all you say after…”

“How are you?” she says, displaying a nervous toothy grin. She sways her eyes at any other direction other than your tense figure.

You don’t say anything, instead you clench your jaw till your teeth start vibrating. A kaleidoscope of emotions start flowing through your head but the fury you’re feeling outweighs the rest.

“I know, I know. Look…” she says calmly, running her hand through her hair. She lets out a laugh filled with anxiousness. “I know you have a lot of fucking questions—“

“Obviously!”

“But I promised I wouldn’t say anything.”

Narrowing your eyes, you take a step closer to her and she gulps at this. Did she not know that their disappearance killed you inside? Does she not know that even till this day the grief still lingers? What infuriates you even more is that she has the audacity to speak to you in code.

“What? Who did you promise that? Sae-byeok?” you ask, demand in your tone.

“I can’t say.” she flounders, her eyes softening.

You gape at her in disbelief. It was hard to find the words to say when all you saw was red. She notices your clear distress so she pulls something out of her pocket, a receipt. Then, out of her large leather bag she grabs a clicking pen and writes something down behind the receipt.

“Look, here’s my new number. If you seriously want to know everything text me and we’ll arrange something.” she says, extending the receipt to you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You all left and you think I’ll just accept this?” you sneer and ball the receipt up to toss it on her chest, breathing heavily.

“It’s either this or nothing.” she sighs and bends down to pick the paper up. She opens your palm which was in a form of a fist and places the paper in the middle. For a second, she holds your fisted hand longer than expected. “I’m truly deeply sorry for everything but I promise you that you will get all the answers you need soon. I missed you so much you have no idea.”

For the first time in over a year, you start to feel your eyes blur with tears when you think about Sae-byeok. Her blurry face etches in your mind and the heartbreak comes washing back. You feel disappointment, it took you so long to bury these feelings aside only for them to come back in minutes.

“…Are they okay?” you whisper, so quietly Ji-yeong almost didn’t hear you.

“You will know everything soon.” she says just as quietly.

When you blink away the tears, you see more clearly Ji-yeong slowly walking back. She is chewing on her bottom lip and is looking at you like she just ran into a wild dangerous animal.

“So, you’re just going to walk away like that!” you bellow, causing disturbance around the market.

“If I don’t I’m going to say something I’m not supposed to!” she shout back and starts whirling around to walk away with great speed in her step.

As you stare blankly ahead, with her phone number in your hand, you’re trying to figure out what just unfolded. It was her, it was actually Ji-yeong in the flesh. And she was all dolled up like meanwhile you look exactly the same. That’s when you feel all the stares around you.

Your lip twitches to form to a scowl seeing everyone throw you strange looks. Scoffing to yourself, you put on your headphones again and stuff the receipt in your pocket.

It looks like tonight is going to be another restless night.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

All the volunteers, Mi-Cha, and Yoon, shout out your name and take shot out of small plastic cups to celebrate the opening of your art gallery. Once everyone swallows down the liquor down her throats, they whistle, hoot, and holler. You smile silently at their festive faces.

This was a life changing moment, but it didn’t feel like it. Not with what happened a week ago. You hate that they’re ruining your special day. How can the haunt you till this very moment?

Once the gallery was open to the public you were stuck in a limbo of greeting guests, explaining your art work, getting declined to purchase a piece, and thank them for their time. It was this constant repetitiveness that was the cause of your headache.

Three hours in and you only hold one singular thing. Maybe this wasn’t as life changing of an opportunity as you thought.

You excuse yourself to Hyunji, one of the volunteers in charge of any customer purchases, and frantically head to the bathroom. It was hard to get it together when things aren’t running as smoothly as you imagined. You turn on the sink to splash your face with water and control your breathing. When you shut your eyes the image of Ji-yeong pops up into your head and your heart sinks. You forgot to text her this morning.

“Shit.” you curse to yourself and whip out your phone to her text message.

Yesterday morning, she finally we texted you to set up a meeting arrangement. Originally, she was only able to come in today but this exhibition was much more important that you couldn’t miss it. So, you texted her that you’ll be busy the entire day. When she asks about your whereabouts you simply told her the gallery at your school and didn’t reply to her since. But when you check your phone, she just seen your message and didn’t text back.

Maybe she is having doubts about talking with you. Maybe you aren’t worth getting closure.

You sigh and put your phone away.

“There you are!”

When you step out the bathroom you come face to face with Mi-Cha. She jumps enthusiastically in your face and pulls you to the back room of the gallery where only workers are allowed. Your heart drops seeing a circle of people around you, grinning ear to ear.

“What? What’s going on?” you ask, nervously.

Yoon steps up and starts combing through your hair which became unruly as the day went on. You just stare around, confused.

“Someone wants to buy your art. All of it!” Chaeun beams, shaking your shoulders aggressively. All of this attention was overwhelming you.

Your eyes get wide. “A—All of it? No way…” you say in disbelief.

“Yes! And you have to go and greet yourself if you want to close the sale!” she adds.

It was finally all happening for you. You didn’t think you’ll feel so clammy and awkward about it though. “I’m scared I’m—“

“At your age you’re scared?” Yoon scoffs and starts reapplying gloss to your lips. “Come on, just shake their hand, greet yourself, and state how thankful you are. Also, lose this ugly blazer that’s so not you.”

“Thanks. I told Mi-Cha I looked ridiculous.” you snort as she helps you remove the blazer.

“Hey!” Mi-Cha pouts.

The entire group steps out all at once. You gulp nervously looking around to see if you can spot them, but how can you? Maybe you tried to see who in the sea of onlookers looks the richest.

“They’re over there. Good luck!” Chaeun points ahead at a figure facing their back.

You let Hyunji take your hand and lead the way over to the customer. With every person you pass, one of the people you least expected in the crowd is where you end up facing. A person wearing a trench coat and a beanie, their back facing you as they were engrossed in your favorite sculpture. You send Hyunji a hesitant look but she nudges you to speak up, you take a deep breath in to control your racing heart.

“Hello, I’m—“

You stumble backwards like someone took a punch to your guts. It was like your mind was playing tricks. Your body gave up on you, it commenced—fight or flight mode. You choose flight.

Spinning back around without a further thought, you march away and Hyunji scurries after you confused. You aggressively wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks and walk even faster.

“Hyunji, don’t sell a single piece to her, got it?” you snarl. Your body is on fire and your mind is dizzy.

“What?!” she gapes and reluctantly looks back at the customer. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You don’t know anything, Hyunji!” you say, you voice shaking horribly.

You slam the door open to the back room and place your hand on your knees trying to catch your short cut breath. In any second, you feel like you might collapse.

“Are you okay?” Yoon enters momentarily after and bends down to take a look at your face.

“Yoon, tell her she’s fucking crazy—“

“Hey, drop it.” she says, sternly. Hyunji is dumbfounded. “Go.” when she walks off muttering curses to herself, Yoon rubs circles around your back until you stand up straight again. “Was that…?” she trails off and you profusely nod which only made you feel more dizzy. “Step outside you need air. I’ll make sure Hyunji does what she’s told.”

You press your back firmly against the cement walls of the art gallery and stare up at the sky.

It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t have been Sae-byeok who turned around. Her face becomes more detailed in your mind again, you see it all now. Her constellation of freckles, her plump almost chapped lips, and those intense eyes.

“Hey, we need to talk.”

The moment you heard her low and handsome voice again, your stomach does somersaults. But you shut your eyes tightly, refusing to believe this is actually happening.

You felt a tall presence lean against the wall beside you. Slowly, you open your wet eyes thinking that this was all in your head. But when you peer over your shoulder, you see Sae-byeok.

She sharply gazes ahead, her lips immovable, and her hands stuffed into the pockets of her trench coat. She too looks as strange as Ji-yeong—very cleanly styled. However, Sae-byeok’s outfit was more laid back with her long pair of black jeans and her short hair mostly covered by her thick beanie.

The anger comes rushing back. She tormented your thoughts and she doesn’t appear to seem fazed in the slightest.

“Go fuck yourself there’s nothing to say.” you sneer at her and push yourself off the wall to enter back inside.

Your breath hitches when you feel her large hands wrap around your wrist, sending goosebumps to trail down your arms.

“Please I—“

“Go away, Sae-byeok. I—I can’t do this anymore!” you croak and swat your wrist out of her grasp. “I was just starting to…”

“Get over me?” she whispers weakly beside you.

“Fuck you.” you say through gritted teeth, still refusing to look up at her.

“I never got over you either. How could I?” she says, almost desperately.

“I don’t care.”

“But you do.”

“Stop.” you say much calmly. “There’s no point…It wouldn’t work out anymore.”

“It?”

She reaches you grab your shoulders with her cold hands. You let her turn you around to face her. The nostalgic warm feeling in your stomach comes back again, a year later. You wonder if she’s feeling it too when you meet her softened eyes. Her eye bags look less prominent, you hope this meant she was doing better. But your concern couldn’t overcome the feelings of betrayal.

“Whatever this was.” you explain to her. You think back to that November day, where you finally gave up in searching for her and recognition overcomes you. “I’m not the same person you left behind, Sae-byeok.” you murmur, ashamed.

You two fall silent. It was difficult for you to look up from the ground.

“…I’m sure I’d love to meet her.” she says gently. Your eyes start getting watery again. You see her shoes shuffle forward. “Let me explain everything. If you don’t want to do anything with me after it then fine—I’ll never bother you again.”

You were conflicted with her. The feelings were just the same as they were back then, but if she left you once could she do it again? Maybe this is your only chance to get closure, even if it means you have to say goodbye to Sae-byeok for the final time.

“Sure. Midnight—the cafe we first went to.” you say plainly. “And don’t come in my gallery.”

Sae-byeok’s jaw slackens as she watches you enter back into the gallery without uttering anything else.

You couldn’t trust this. You can’t trust her. What is she playing at? Why now? Was she actually planning on buying everything? How is that possible…

So, many thoughts swirled in your head trying to figure out her sudden appearance. How can you concentrate back on your exhibition after this?

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

You don’t know what was a stronger feeling towards Sae-byeok right now, love or betrayal.

You found out a long time ago that your feelings for Sae-byeok were deep and prevalent. So much so, that every failed date you had in the past only failed because they succumbed to meet the standards of your feelings towards her. And when you finally saw her beautiful face again, those feelings were euphoric even if you deny it.

But how can you both come back from this after what she’s done to you? She left you in the dark for over a year. You doubt whatever excuse she has will reprimand anything but you need to know why.

The anticipation of it all was damming. When the exhibition finally closed at eight, you knew you couldn’t sit and wait around in the dorms till midnight so you took a long walk all the way from campus to the twenty-four hour cafe to prepare yourself mentally. You hope she has a good explanation to everything—a riveting one.

You ended up arriving to the cafe an hour earlier, so you just sat in the corner of the shop drinking your iced coffee, listening to your music and your legs bouncing aggressively. The only thing you could do was blankly stare at the wooden table and think about the time you and Sae-byeok first went here—it was the day you came out to her. It’s strange…it feels like it all went down recently.

When Sae-byeok abruptly sits down beside you, you flinch back and scramble to put your you headphones. You check the time, there was still thirty minutes left till midnight. The anticipation must’ve been killing you both.

So, once you have the courage to look at her she already was. And she wasn’t ashamed to. Her eyes, which was a sharp and intense gaze earlier is now more vulnerable and soft. Your cheeks burn up.

When she breaks the eye contact, she looks down at her lap, struggling to find her words. But when she gulps, she softly says, “I lied to you.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. You’re so scared to know the truth.

She continues after a brief pause, “I didn’t have it all together…A few days after you left, a man approached me and offered me money to play a game with him. He said that…that I can make more money if I called a business card he gave me—so I did. But it wasn’t anything like I thought it would be…”

Her voice starts trembling and you had no idea where she was going with this.

So, Sae-byeok tells you about the games she joined—squid game? She tells you about the secluded island, the abduction of four hundred desperate people drowning in financial ruin, the millions of dollar prize, Deok-su and Yen-ho, and craziest of all if that’s even possible…the deaths. When she quietly tells you about how the guards in these games kill people off who lose, her voice started to shake horrendously. At first, you couldn’t believe it sounds…made up. But you take a look right into her eyes and saw them glaze over with tears and something even more horrific…torment. It was nothing you’ve ever seen in her before.

When she finishes the story about the part where she ultimately is the sole winner, you were left speechless. Speechless at the fact that what she was saying was real…people died because they were so desperate for money. It was incomprehensible that Sae-byeok and other four hundred human beings chose to risk their lives for money. But that’s the reality of the world we’re living in. What wouldn’t we do for money? A world built upon greed and feeding off the desperation of the poor.

“So,” you gulp, finally speaking after an hour of quietly listening to her story. “once you—won…what did they do?”

She sniffles and wipes away the snot with the end of her sleeve. “T—They threw me in a van…blindfolded and—and they um…tossed me in the road with uh…a card.”

“With the money.” you finish, dabbing away the tears in the corner of your eyes. Sae-byeok nods. “This all sounds so…so fucking…”

“Crazy? Made up?” she scoffs. “It is…apparently they’ve held the games before many times…And it will continue to happen.”

You two sit in silence with this. If Sae-byeok was only in the games for a week, there must be more to her story. What else did she have to endure outside of the games?

“I couldn’t face you after that.” she bluntly confesses. Your breathing stops. “I was a mess I—I still am…and I couldn’t let you go down with me…”

Without further thought, you reach over to place your hand on top of Sae-byeok’s but she quickly pulls her hand to her lap. She gazes up at you for the first time since she began talking, her eyes red.

“I’m sorry—for everything.” she says, her voice small and vulnerable. It was a short and simple apology, but you both knew this meant something more complex and deeper.

“Sae-byeok…” you say but it’s like the words to say are no longer there.

“I know…It’s a lot. I’ll give you time—as much as you need. And I will wait for as long as you want.” she whispers. “I broke your promises so…I deserve to wait now.”

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

What Sae-byeok told you two weeks ago completely changes your outlook on life. Everyone knows that this world is cruel and doesn’t slow down for anyone…but this just solidifies that reality even more. No one is safe from the harsh reality.

You’re scared to know what Sae-byeok must’ve been through—after all if she was the sole winner so that means she saw four hundred people, all with a life of their own, die in front of her own two eyes. That’s not something you can just brush off. You no longer care about the betrayal, the year of disconnection, everything…this was an another silent battle she was dealing with on her own. And you are positive that Sae-byeok hasn’t overcome with the trauma—of course she didn’t, this might keep haunting her forever.

But she told you that she wants to wait for you, but the second you left that cafe you already had a clear answer. She gave you her new contact number—it’s that easy to just dial her.

Why did you have to make everything so complicated for yourself?

Only in troubling times like these would you prefer sitting outside to be alone with your thoughts. The campus bench was icy cold and with every breath you withdrew it formed as white clouds.

“There you fucking are. Fuck that was a pain in the fucking ass.” you hear Ji-yeong’s breathless voice somewhere around you. You jump, looking around and find her tirelessly shuffling to you.

“How…?” you trail off.

“You know how many doors I had to knock until finally someone told me where you’d be?!”

“Oh…Sorry?” you frown. “I’ve been here for a while…I didn’t bring my phone with me.”

She sits down and sighs in relief. You let her catch her breath and wonder if she took this much effort to come and look for you for Sae-byeok.

“O—Okay…” she says, pressing her hand to her chest. “I think my body is calm now…Also, take these off—because we really need to talk.”

You snort and let her snatch your headphones from your head, leaving your hair all disheveled. “Is this about, Sae-byeok?”

“Obviously.” she frowns. “You two clearly want to be together and it’s frustrating watching you two keep pushing each other away. I bet she didn’t tell you everything that happened in those stupid games.”

“She told me she wants me to wait—“

“Oh please, she only said that for your sake but she doesn’t want that. Neither do you.”

You fell silent. Ji-yeong groans in exasperation. “Look,” she says and starts sounding more serious. That’s when you peer up to look at her flushed face. “I know her well enough to know that she didn’t tell you everything that she endured from the games.”

“W—What didn’t she?”

She sits in silence to gather her thoughts before starting to explain everything, “She told me that…she made a support system with a small group of people to help each other out because the games got more intense with each play…Apparently, Deok-su started killing people and he and his son’s main target was Sae-byeok. But by some miracle, she found people that could protect her. More specifically one man…she never told me his name but they began talking about each others lives and made a pact that if one of them survives but the other one dies, that they’ll protect each others family. On the last game, they were the sole two survivors—and…he killed himself to let her win.”

This just adds a whole new depth to Sae-byeok’s words two weeks ago. Now more than ever, you refuse to let your stubbornness get in the way of consoling her. Ji-yeong looks at you and smiles weakly, like she knew what you were feeling.

“And once Sae-byeok came back she tried to keep her word…but his mom was already dead by the time she found her. So, she feels guilty. I think she’ll live with that for a while.” she exhales again and her eyes are glazed with a dark look to them. “S—She was so depressed when she came back. Me and Cheol didn’t know what to do—didn’t know how to feel with all the new changes in our lives. We had money yes but…she was broken because of it. For a few months, all she did was stay locked up in her room and whenever she wasn’t, she just had this blank stare on her face the entire time. It was horrible seeing her like that…She is definitely recuperating now but she was so sacred to face you in her state. She still is. You really mean a lot to her because losing you was another big sacrifice she had to make. But she didn’t want to completely abandon you, that’s why she paid off your schools tuition.”

You made your decision right then and there. No more waiting, no more beating around the bush, you want to be with Sae-byeok. You want to be her support system—let her lean on your shoulders on the toughest points. If it takes her a lifetime to overcome her past, you want to be there for her now.

Ji-yeong presses her fingers on the corner of your eyes. You didn’t even notice the tears.

“T—Tell me, Ji.” you breathe. “Where is, Sae-byeok?”

Ji-yeong gives you a sly smile.

From what Ji-yeong told you, Sae-byeok’s favorite ‘rich person hobby’ was jogging. Specifically in Yongsang Family Park. It was a farther commute than you expected but you couldn’t care less. You had to see her now.

However, finding her in the actual park was more of a difficult task than you thought. So, you pace around almost practically running. The lake was frosted over with a thin sheet of ice and the trees around were nothing but different size branches that formed lines of constellations like the night sky above. You trust you and walk along the path next to the lake, but after ten minutes went by you start growing worried that Ji-yeong might be wrong about this.

But you kept walking, keeping that small bit of hope in your heart that you’ll find her. And after another five minutes, you see her tall slender figure. Even though she was running ahead of you, you just knew it. That’s her.

She’s wearing dark gray sweats and a matching hoodie, her short hair tied up in a small ponytail. The clouds of cold air whenever she breathed danced around in the sky—a lot.

For once, the stars perfectly aligned for her to stop jogging to catch her breath the moment you spotted her. You get a boost of courage as you head to her.

Sae-byeok’s hands were on her knees, her chest puffing up and down due to her unsteady breathing, and her eyes were glued shut.

“Sae-byeok.”

She snaps her head back and her eyes grow enlarged when she sees it’s you. Now you can see her face more clearly, her cheeks were dusted rosy pink and her lips pale in comparison.

“How—How did you find me?” she stammers, still trying to catch her breath.

You take hesitant steps closer. “Isn’t it obvious?” you say with a short chuckle.

“Ji-yeong.” she says, stoically.

You wish you had some water to give her, she appears so dehydrated. However, she straightens herself up, places her hands on her hips and starts staring at the ground—like she was bracing herself to hear the worst.

“So, you made up your mind?” she mutters.

“Yes. But before I give you my answer,” you say, choking up on your words. “I just want you to know that I know about the guy, his mom, and…how you dealt with all this—“

“Fucking, Ji-yeong.” she winces and shuts her eyes.

“Sae-byeok, listen to me.” you say softly but there was a bit of demand in your tone. She looks at you with a hardened expression. “It…It really broke my heart when you left. I—I wanted to feel bitter about what you’ve done but…I don’t want to run away from this anymore—from what I feel you for because it never left. No matter how hard I wanted to push it away. And after everything that’s happened to you after those games, you still didn’t lose yourself…your good heart. I want to be there for you—no more fucking waiting. You don’t have to deal with those feelings alone anymore. And I know I’m not all there, but I know I’m still that reckless wonderful person you told me I am.”

Sae-byeok’s body is quivering profusely, using her entire body to stop herself from bursting into tears. But the pools in her eyes were blurring with every second that went by.

But you don’t wait. You throw your arms over her shoulders and securely wrap your arms around her. Even a year later, she smells just the same. You pull her tighter, wanting to feel her heartbeat as your chests touch. Sae-byeok sighs in relief and snakes her arms around your waist, her grip strengthening when she begins to cry. You give her as much time as she needs to cry on your shoulders. It didn’t matter how long it would take, as long as you had her in your arms you’ll remain like this until she’s ready.

“I don’t—I don’t deserve you.” she hiccups, slowly uncoiling her arms from you.

You look into her wet eyes and cup her cheeks. “Stop. We deserve to be with each other. What did I tell you? No more waiting.” you whisper due to the proximity of her face. She stares at you, awestruck. “I want you, Sae-byeok. Please, tell me if you do too?”

For a moment, she stays frozen which ultimately makes your heart drop. Her answer was starting to frighten you.

“I love you.” she whispers, avoiding your gaze.

You smile softly at her shy nature. “I love you too.“

She finally looks at you, like she was surprised to hear you say it. Before you open your mouth to speak, you are cut off by her lips on yours. Sae-byeok holds your waist firmly with one hand while the other is caressing the back of your head. The kiss felt like it lasted a lifetime, both of you wanting to savor this feeling after years of disconnection.

Once you two break apart the kiss, she presses her forehead against yours, her unsteady breath mixing with yours. She continues to stare at your lips that were just as swollen as hers and hesitantly kisses you one last time with much less intensity as the first. This one was a short sweet peck but you loved it just the same.

“You’re so wonderful.” she shyly confesses beside your lips. You both lightly chuckle at this. “After all this time, don’t forget it.”

It hurts to know that you have, you truly forgot. But you will grow to remember it again with Sae-byeok.

“I—I know it’s late but, do you want to spend the rest of the night together and maybe see my new place?” she asks tentatively. “I can show you around town and my favorite spots…Only if you want to—I know you still have school.”

“I just got you back, of course I do.” you smile.

Her cheeks glow a brighter pink. “Okay.”

“I’m curious to know where you live now.” you hum. “Do you live in a penthouse?”

She snorts and starts leading the way, her smile only growing wider. “Cheol is going to be so happy to see you.”

“I’m excited.” you say, bashfully. “And…Your mom?”

“She’s on her way to Thailand.” she says. “She’ll be here before summer starts.”

“That’s amazing.” you gape. “I’m so happy for you, Sae-byeok…this is everything you ever wanted.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t say it out loud but her life is actually starting to turn around for the better. All she’s ever known was cruelties and to never trust anyone. But she took the risk more than she was comfortable with and it just gave her more reasons to stay afloat. Although the past will come and haunt her from time to time, she finally will have all of her loved ones by her side. And that’s enough to keep her going.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss @everly-summers-solace @we1rdth0ughts @wlvlurvsfimmia

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!]

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: Still the same.

Chapter 30- 'Pretty Girl's All Good' | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 13.4 k

“T’s coming over.” You mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper, curled up in the corner of the sectional in the living room. The oversized blanket you’d wrapped around yourself felt thin compared to the comfort you craved. Your knees were tucked tightly to your chest, your phone held like a lifeline. The words felt like reassurance—if you said them aloud, maybe the ache in your chest would ease. Jack sat across from you, his jaw clenched, his leg bouncing slightly. He’d been patient, more patient than most would be, but something inside him snapped—not with anger, but with fear masked as frustration.

“Y/N, enough…” he said firmly, his voice steady but low, trying not to shatter you more than you already were. “You need some space.” You blinked, stunned by the sudden break in his usual gentle approach. The words stung like ice water against raw skin. Your throat tightened as you swallowed the lump rising, your defenses kicking in before your heart could catch up.

“No… fuck off, Jack,” you shot back, your voice brittle, trembling under the weight of hurt and exhaustion. It wasn’t loud or sharp—it was fragile, like a glass about to crack. You weren’t angry. You were terrified. “He’s coming over, so if you have an issue then say that in front of him.” Your words were meant to sound defiant, but they wobbled, your voice betraying you, thick with unshed tears. Jack exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. 

“Y/N… You’ve gotta stop. You’re building your self-esteem around him. He’s not who you are.” The words were heavy, but his eyes were soft, glassy even, like he hated every syllable as it left his mouth. Tears broke free, streaming silently down your face, hot against your cold skin. 

“Tell him that,” you snapped, your voice crumbling like the rest of you. “Say that in front of him.” You tried to threaten Jack thinking maybe he only had the gall to say it to you. And that’s when Trent walked in. The sound of the front door shutting behind him cutting through the room.

“Yo, bro—” His voice was light, casual, like it always was when he entered a room with you in it. But the second his eyes landed on you—your tear-streaked face, the tension thick enough to choke on—his words died mid-breath. His eyes darted to Jack, confusion flashing before morphing into panic. What happened? His mind raced. Did I do something? Was I gone too long?

“Tell him,” you whispered aloud, your voice broken, a plea hidden beneath the challenge. Trent didn’t waste a second. He crossed the room in quick strides, dropping to his knees in front of you. His hands found your face, thumbs brushing away the tears with the gentlest touch, like you might shatter if he pressed too hard. His forehead rested against yours for a brief, grounding second.

“Please…” He quietly whispered, begging you to not cry anymore. His heart couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you wait right here for me, pretty girl?” His voice was soft, a balm against the sting of Jack’s words. “Save me some space under that blanket, yeah?” You nodded, your bottom lip trembling, clutching the blanket tighter like it could keep you from falling apart completely. Trent pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering a second longer than necessary, as if trying to pour all his comfort into you through that one touch. Then he stood, his jaw tightening as he turned to Jack. “Bro, c’mere for a sec.” His tone was calm, but there was a current of something deeper beneath it—controlled, but coiled tight. He nodded toward the hallway, silently asking for space, for privacy. Jack hesitated, glancing back at you, then got up and followed. It wasn’t far—just a few steps separating them from you—but far enough that their words wouldn’t reach your ears. The muffled hum of the television you’d left on for background noise faded under the weight of unspoken tension pressing between them. Once they were out of sight but mildly out of earshot, Trent’s posture shifted. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze sharp. “What’s going on, Jack?” he asked quietly, but his voice held an edge. Jack rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling through his nose. 

“I’m worried, man. She’s not… she’s not okay. And I get it, I do. But she leans on you like if you’re not there, she’ll fall apart.” Jack blurted out his honest answer. Trent’s jaw clenched, his mind flashing with every night you’d fallen asleep tangled in his arms, every time you’d reached for him like he was the only thing keeping you afloat. Trent ran a hand over his hair, rocking slightly, his jaw tight. His heart was still racing from seeing you like that, tears streaking your face, clinging to your blanket like it was the only thing tethering you to the ground but he also hated that Jack wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Bro… I know. I see it,” Trent started, his voice low but thick with frustration, not at Jack, but at himself—for not noticing sooner, for letting it get this far. “But I’m not doing anything but being a shoulder right now. I’m just listening to her. Being there for her, I swear.” He exhaled sharply, like admitting it out loud made it more real. “I’m very aware of what this could morph into. It’s not, though.” The words tumbled out in a rush, like he’d only just realized them himself. Dianne’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, soft but pointed, making him see things differently now. Jack crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the opposite wall with a skeptical expression etched into his face. 

“T… come on, mate. You’re all over her just the same.” Jack replied. Trent’s composure cracked. His hands shot up in frustration before dropping to his sides, clenched into fists. His voice rose slightly, not in anger, but in desperation.

“I am all over her because I’m fucking scared, mate!” he burst out, his chest heaving with the force of the words. “I don’t feel okay leaving her. If she wants me there, I’m going to be there. I have to be there.” The confession hung in the air, raw and unpolished. Trent’s breathing was heavy, his emotions barely contained. Jack didn’t flinch. His voice remained steady, calm—anchoring Trent’s storm. 

“I don’t want her to need you.” Jack said earnestly. It wasn’t a dig. It wasn’t jealousy. It was fear—the kind of fear that seeps into your bones when you watch someone you love disappear into their pain, gripping onto someone else like a life raft. Jack didn’t want you to drown if that raft drifted away. But Trent shook his head, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a hushed, urgent tone.

“She does need me though, Jack.” His eyes burned with conviction, but underneath that—guilt. “I understand it’s been really intense lately, but I promise I’m working on it. I won’t let her slip, but I’ll do it the right way. I’m not trying to push. But she needs someone to hold her up so she doesn’t collapse.” The words spilled out in a rush, fast and uneven, like he was afraid if he didn’t get them out, they’d choke him. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his eyes pleading for Jack to understand—not for himself, but for you. Jack sighed heavily, his back pressing harder against the wall as if it could absorb the weight he was carrying. He tilted his head back, eyes closing for a brief moment, letting the silence stretch between them. “And maybe I’m part of the problem,” Trent admitted quietly, surprising even himself at the admission. “But I’m also the only thing that makes her feel safe right now. You think I don’t know how heavy that is? You think I don’t lie awake wondering if I’m helping her heal or just helping her hide?” Trent confessed. Jack looked at him, the anger in his face softening into something closer to understanding. “I love her,” Trent continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, like the words were sacred. “But if I have to be the wall she leans on until she can stand on her own, then I’ll be that wall. Because I’d rather be too much than not enough for her.” Jack swallowed hard, his shoulders deflating. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, worn thin by worry but threaded with understanding. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out, his shoulders slumping. Trent stepped back slightly, his own exhaustion catching up with him. 

“Jack, please.” His voice cracked just a little, the vulnerability bleeding through. Jack rolled his head to the side, opening his eyes to meet Trent’s gaze. There was no judgment left, only the shared ache of two people desperate to keep someone they loved from falling apart.

“I just don’t want to lose her.” Jack muttered. He’d spoken to Dianne about you but there was an additional undercurrent. The one that had coursed through him since he found out about you and Trent, since he asked Megan to be his girlfriend, it wasn’t in his control… it was the tide of your mother, losing another important woman in his life wasn’t an option. 

“You won’t,” Trent said, his voice steady now. “Neither will I. But we’ve got to meet her where she’s at, not where we wish she was.” Trent explained. Silence settled between them, heavy but less suffocating.

“I know. I know,” Jack murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. He straightened up, stepping closer, his face serious but kind. “Can we just… Trent, I need to make sure she’s okay. And I know you want that too. So can we do it together and not like…”Jack sighed unsure how to say it. Trent’s eyes narrowed waiting for his words. In reality, Trent had been blinded by love and fear and protection. He hadn’t realized how reclusive you two had been. “Like just not lock yourselves away for days at a time, yeah?” The sincerity in his voice was disarming, breaking down the invisible wall Trent had been bracing against. Trent nodded slowly, his throat tight. “And, bro,” Jack added, his tone softening with a small, crooked smile, “it’s not lost on me that this has to be hard on you too. I just need you two to be okay. So please… just let me in a little. Come up for air every once in a while, yeah? There’s oxygen elsewhere.”  The words hit Trent harder than he expected, like a lifeline thrown into waters he didn’t even realize he was drowning in. He gave a breathy chuckle, shaking his head, then reached out, gripping Jack’s shoulder firmly—a silent thank you wrapped in the gesture.

“Thanks, Jacky.” His voice was rough but honest. “Trust me… I’m struggling, mate but we’re all coming out of this.” Jack nodded, his hand patting Trent’s back briefly as they turned to head back to you. Because despite everything, they were in this together. It was the only option and you were waiting, the one thing tethering them both to hope. Trent pushed off the wall, heading back toward you, but not before glancing back at Jack one last time. “We’ll figure it out. For her.” Jack nodded again, his chest tight, but his heart a little lighter. And Trent? He went back to you, because that’s where he belonged.

---

��C’mon, move over for me,” Trent smirked as he stood beside the sofa, arms crossed over his chest. His tone was playful, but the warmth in his eyes softened the teasing edge. You barely looked up, curled up in the corner of the sectional, wrapped in a thick blanket like it was the only thing holding you together. The minutes apart since he’d gone to Dianne’s till now had felt like an eternity, and though you wouldn’t admit it, your body still buzzed with the residual unease of his absence. Instead of moving, you just blinked at him, hesitant. Trent’s smirk faded slightly.  “Pretty girl… ” he murmured, immediately picking up on your hesitation. His expression shifted to one of quiet understanding, and instead of waiting for you to move, he simply settled into the space beside you, pulling you into him with ease. His arms wrapped around you, a steady and familiar embrace. He kissed your temple gently. “Baby, he just wants you all good, yeah?” His voice was soft, meant only for you, each word laced with reassurance. Another kiss, this time to your forehead. Jack sighed heavily from his seat across the room, shifting slightly as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. 

“Just looking out for you, Y/N.” His voice was steady, but the weight of it was unmistakable.

“Okay…” you mumbled, but your tone was dismissive, your face still buried against Trent’s chest, unwilling to engage in the conversation any further. Trent let out a quiet hum, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your back. 

“C’mon, gonna watch the game,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. With one arm still wrapped around you, he attempted to adjust you, trying to turn your body so you could see the TV instead of burrowing into him. But you resisted, gripping onto him tighter. 

“No.” The pout in your voice made him chuckle, but he didn’t cave this time. Instead, he maneuvered you carefully, positioning you so you were settled between his legs, your back pressed against his chest, his arms still locked securely around your stomach.

“Yeah, sorry, pretty girl,” he cooed, pressing another kiss to your temple, amusement laced in his voice. He wasn’t giving in this time. Jack, watching silently, exhaled a quiet breath of relief. His eyes met Trent’s, and he gave him a small nod, mouthing “better.” Trent didn’t respond, but the flicker of acknowledgment in his expression was enough. For a moment, you stayed like that, nestled against Trent, your body finally relaxing as the quiet murmur of the TV filled the space. But soon, the discomfort of being apart, even by just a few inches, became too much. Without thinking, you turned fully into him, shifting so that your body curled over his, your cheek pressed against his heartbeat. Trent let out a small breath of amusement, unsurprised by your need to be closer. His arms instinctively tightened around you, his hand smoothing up and down your back in slow, lazy strokes. Your foot dragged up his toned leg, your fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt, pressing against the warmth of his skin. The contact was necessary, grounding. His body had become your safe haven, the only place where you felt truly at ease. Jack watched silently from across the room, his expression unreadable. It wasn’t judgment, nor was it frustration—it was concern, laced with something softer. He didn’t fully understand the weight of what you were carrying, but he knew you were holding on to Trent like he was the last solid thing in your world. Trent, for his part, simply held you. He didn’t push you away, didn’t tell you to move, didn’t tell you that you were clinging too much. He just kept rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back, his other hand resting protectively on your thigh. The game continued on the TV, but neither of you were watching. The rise and fall of Trent’s chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the gentle brush of his lips against your hair—it was enough to lull you into a sleepy haze. “Go to sleep, baby,” Trent eventually murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He pressed another soft kiss to your hair, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. “I got you.” And for the first time that day, you allowed yourself to fully believe it.

---

Trent had promised Jack he’d help, that he’d be mindful, that he wouldn’t let things spiral. But that was easier said than done when every day, he saw you like this—fragile, weary, sinking deeper into him as if he were the only thing tethering you down. Every time he saw you clinging to him like he was the only thing you knew, he felt that promise slipping through his fingers. And maybe he was. How was he supposed to pull away when you needed him so much? When he needed you just the same? 

Dianne’s Sunday roasts were tradition, a staple in the Alexander-Arnold household, and today was no different. The garden was alive with laughter, plates clinking, the scent of spices from inside seeping outside into the air. The whole family was there, sprawled out in the back garden, chatting away, the summer heat melting into the kind of warmth only home could bring. His brothers were chatting, his cousin fussing over the family dog, and his mum was flitting between guests, ensuring everyone had what they needed and then back to the kitchen. The house was full of love, warmth, and normalcy-something you hadn't felt in a long time. But you barely registered it. You were sitting in Trent’s lap, tucked against his chest, your body draped over his like a second skin. His hands rested on your waist, fingers lazily grazing under the sheer fabric of your top, tracing the soft skin of your stomach absentmindedly.  Every touch was slow, deliberate, his presence wrapped around you like a shield. Your back rolled into him as his nose brushed against the curve of your neck, his lips finding the soft skin just below your ear. Your head rolled to the side, exposing more of your neck, and Trent didn't hesitate to nuzzle into the space. He whispered, ‘I love yous’ quietly and just for you. It wasn't the first time he'd said it today. In fact, he'd been murmuring it to you all afternoon, as if afraid you'd slip away if he stopped reminding you. You let out a slow exhale, and hummed softly in response, your hands moving over his forearms in front of you, fingertips tracing over the muscles and veins beneath his skin. You weren't really here. You were with him, yes, but the rest of the world barely existed. The laughter, the voices, the chatter-it was all just background noise. The only thing you could feel, hear, breathe, was Trent. He was comfort. He was safety. 

“Hun, come help me, yeah?” Dianne’s voice cut through the quiet bubble you and Trent had wrapped yourselves in. Your eyes fluttered open, barely processing the request before turning to her. She stood just a few steps away, nodding toward the house, an easy smile on her lips. You always helped Dianne. In fact, you usually offered. But today? Today, you just wanted to stay right where you were. Your body stiffened slightly, the thought of leaving Trent—even for a few minutes—causing unease to bloom in your chest. Trent felt it instantly before you even had to say anything.. His hands gripped your waist a little tighter, his own muscles tensing beneath you. The way your body stiffened, the subtle hitch in your breath, the way your hands instinctively gripped his forearms tighter. His fingers pressed against your stomach, rubbing soothing circles, silently reassuring you that you didn't have to move if you didn't want to.

“Mum, I don’t think—” Trent started, already intervening, already ready to reject the request on your behalf, ready to make an excuse for you before you even had to answer. But Dianne didn’t budge.

“Yeah, I need this gorgeous girl,” she cooed, her voice soft but unwavering. Her eyes met yours, her meaning clear, patient but expectant. Trent’s arms curled around you a little tighter, a silent plea to stay. But you knew Dianne. This wasn’t just about getting help in the kitchen. You let out a breath before shifting slightly, preparing to move. Trent hesitated, then hugged you against him for a moment longer, as if to imprint the feeling of you there before finally standing with you. You exhaled slowly before shifting, preparing to move. Trent's hold lingered for just a second longer before he reluctantly let go, his hands trailing down your waist as he helped you stand. You adjusted the hem of your tiny knit shorts, smoothing them down, but Trent’s hands never fully left you. They hovered, warm and familiar, settling on the small of your back as he dipped his head down, lips brushing against your ear. His hands lingered on the small of your back, warm and grounding, his fingertips lightly pressing into your skin. 

“Just for a little bit, yeah? I’ll be right here, waiting for you.” He kissed the top of your shoulder, lips brushing against the ribbing of your top, before trailing up to press another against your temple. Jack, who had been watching the entire thing unfold, shot Dianne a knowing look from across the garden. She simply winked at him, her patience unwavering. She was giving you space, gently forcing you to take a breath of air outside of Trent’s hold, even if just for a moment. Trent hesitated before finally pulling away completely, but even then, his fingers trailed down your arm, as if reluctant to break contact entirely. You nodded softly, stepping away, but not before Trent reached out again, fingertips grazing your wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I’ll be here," he whispered. It took everything in you to turn away and follow Dianne into the house. Jack exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he watched you disappear inside. Dianne had done what he couldn't-pried you away from Trent's grip, even if just for a few minutes. And Trent? Trent was still standing there, his eyes fixed on the door you had just walked through, already waiting for you to come back.

---

“Hun, how are you doing?” Dianne asked you softly in the empty kitchen. You shrugged continuing to slice vegetables she’d given you on the cutting board. She sighed at your response. “Sweetie, I’ve never seen you like this…”She spoke again. Dianne was being patient, she wasn’t going to push you further than needed, she knew how sensitive you were but she also wanted to help. Dianne waited but you didn’t speak so she did again instead. “You know, I’ve talked to two boys who love you very much….” In that moment your heart sank… she knew. “Talk to me, hun, please. I’m here.” She encouraged you. Dianne turned to you fully now, her warm eyes softening as she reached out, placing both hands gently on your shoulders. She gave you a slight squeeze, her touch firm yet soothing, grounding you in the moment. Dianne’s heart ached watching you. She could see how fragile you were, the way your hands trembled slightly as you wiped your face, the way your breath hitched as you fought against the sobs threatening to spill out. Without hesitation, she pulled you into her embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around you, cradling the back of your head as if you were a child again. 

“Come here, sweetheart,” she murmured. The moment your body pressed against hers, it was as if the weight of the past weeks broke free from inside you, shattering the fragile composure you’d been holding onto.  The tears came freely now, silent at first, your shoulders shaking as she ran a soothing hand over your back. Your arms wrapped around her, fingers gripping at the fabric of her blouse as a choked sob left your lips. Dianne held you tighter, one hand stroking your hair, the other smoothing comforting circles down your back. “It’s okay, darling,” she whispered, her voice steady, a rock in the storm of your emotions. “You’ve been holding so much inside, haven’t you? A lot’s been going on, hmm?” You nodded into her shoulder, your entire frame trembling. The pressure in your chest, the one that had been suffocating you, finally gave way. Tears streamed freely now, soaking into her shirt, but she didn’t seem to mind. She just kept holding you, humming softly under her breath, a mother’s instinct taking over. “You are so loved, sweet girl,” she murmured, her voice filled with conviction. “I know it feels safe with him. I know he makes it all feel okay, like the world is a little less heavy when he’s there. But sweetheart, you need to be okay even when he’s not.” Her words cut through you like a blade you were just using, sharp but true. You tried to shake your head, to deny it, but she pulled back slightly, cupping your tear-streaked face in her hands, her thumbs wiping at your damp cheeks. “You are strong,” she insisted, her voice firm but tender. “Even if you don’t feel it right now, even if it’s buried under all this pain, it’s there.” Your lips wobbled as more tears spilled over.

 “I—I don’t that way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Dianne sighed, her thumbs still brushing over your cheeks, her gaze unwavering. 

“I know, hun. And that’s okay. Strength isn’t about feeling unbreakable all the time. It’s about taking even the tiniest steps forward, even when it hurts.” Her voice was calm and it made your heart ache. A sob wracked your chest, and she pulled you in again, holding you as if she could stitch your broken pieces back together just with the force of her love. “It’s going to take time, sweetie. No one expects you to just wake up one day and be fine. But you have to start finding yourself again—little by little.” Your breath hitched as you clung to her. 

“I just need to be with T, Di. I’m scared. I don’t feel like myself without him.” You whimpered a confession, your voice fragile, barely there.

“No one can make you more yourself than you can. Hun, that boy…” She paused with a sigh. “The one that hurt you, he doesn’t define you. And as much as he brings out the best in you, Trenty doesn’t either.” She explained. You sniffled reluctantly listening to her.

“Sorry, Di.” You whimpered as you wiped your face, stepping back from her feeling guilty like you were burdening her but she reached out to you again.

“Sweetie, not one apology needed.” Dianne exhaled, pressing a kiss to your hair. Let’s figure it out together, yeah?” she whispered. “You’re not alone in this, hun.” She swayed slightly, rocking you in place like she used to do with her own children when they were small, letting the warmth of the kitchen, the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the quiet love she poured into you fill the space. And for the first time in a long time, even without Trent there, you felt a little less lost. And then in a moment of vulnerability you heard the words come from your mouth like someone else was speaking them. 

“Di…. I miss her,” you choked out suddenly, the words tasting foreign in your mouth, but feeling so deeply true. “I miss my mum so much.” Dianne inhaled sharply, her own eyes glistening as she held you tighter. 

“Oh, hun. I know you do,” she whispered. “And I know she would be so proud of you. She would be holding you just like this if she could.” You nodded against her shoulder, the warmth of her comfort breaking down something in you.

“I just don’t know who I am. And without her I felt like I didn’t know where home was anymore, what that felt like anymore but with T, he gives me that. Without—without Trent. I feel like I’ll fall apart.” You muttered in between shaky breaths. Dianne pulled back just enough to cup your face, her thumbs wiping away the endless stream of tears.

“Listen to me. I know you feel lost right now. And I know Trent is your safe place, but you need to remember that you are still here. You are strong. You are still you, even without them right next to you.” You sniffled, shaking your head. 

“I don’t feel strong.” You tried to tell her once again. Dianne smiled sadly, brushing a piece of hair from your face. 

“That’s the thing about strength, hun. It doesn’t always feel like it. Sometimes it feels like just waking up and getting through the day. Sometimes it’s crying and still standing after. And sometimes, strength is knowing when to hold on, and when to let yourself breathe.” You swallowed hard, her words settling deep in your chest. You wanted to believe them. You wanted to trust that you could be okay, even if you weren’t wrapped up in Trent’s arms every second.

“I’m scared,” you admitted in a whisper. Dianne kissed the top of your head gently.  

“I know, sweetheart. But you’re not alone. And you never will be. We’ll figure this out, together, promise. I’m here. We’re all with you.” And you let yourself believe it as you nodded.

---

The house carried the familiar, comforting scent of home-cooked food, mingling with the low hum of conversation drifting in from the back garden. The warmth of the kitchen should’ve been soothing, but you felt restless, your mind tangled in too many emotions to focus on something as simple as cooking. Your hands moved mechanically, slicing vegetables, stirring sauces, going through the motions without truly being present. You were trying to be there but your emotional conversation with Dianne moments earlier lingered. Trent and Jack stepped inside, their presence filling the space instantly. Trent’s eyes found yours immediately, scanning your face with that quiet, searching intensity he always had when he was worried about you. You knew why he was here. It wasn’t really about the food.

“Food ready?” he asked, voice casual, but the question held a deeper meaning.  A lame excuse in an effort to make sure you were okay. Dianne’s hands brushed your arms as she passed, her touch gentle but grounding. She didn’t miss anything—never had, never would.

“Almost…” she cooed, before adding with a knowing softness, “Takes time, hun.” You knew she wasn’t just talking about the food. The words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken understanding. Trent hesitated, lingering for a moment like he was debating whether to say more, but instead, he exhaled, giving you one last glance before following Jack back outside.

By the time the meal was finally finished, the back garden had settled into the kind of easy, familiar atmosphere that always came with these family gatherings. The sun had started breaking through the thick English clouds, casting golden streaks across the table. There was a light breeze, the kind that made the trees rustle lazily, the sound mixing with the distant laughter of Trent’s brothers. You sat beside him, close but not quite close enough, resisting the urge that had become second nature—to curl into him, to let his warmth swallow you whole. You wanted to, so badly, but Dianne’s words still echoed in your mind. Maybe Jack’s did, too. But resisting Trent was like trying to fight gravity. Mid-sentence, as he spoke to Tyler and Noah, Trent’s hand moved instinctively. His fingers dipped into the waistband of your knit shorts, his touch slow, deliberate. Before you even had the chance to react, he pulled you into him with quiet certainty, his arm winding around your waist as if reminding you there was no use in fighting it. The second your body met his, it was like exhaling after holding your breath for too long. The tension in your shoulders melted, your muscles softened. You belonged here. Noah, ever the comic relief, threw out a joke that had the whole table chuckling. The sound of it nudged something loose in your chest, and before you knew it, you were giggling too—light, breathy, real. Trent stilled for just a moment, as if soaking in the sound, as if letting it seep into his skin. Then, ever so subtly, he exhaled, his body finally relaxing, his hand squeezing your waist in quiet acknowledgment. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, murmuring something against your skin that you couldn’t quite make out, but you felt it all the same. And suddenly, everything seemed… clearer. The food you had cooked no longer felt like a chore; its rich scent curled around you, grounding you in the moment. The sun’s rays warming your skin didn’t just feel like another passing part of the day—it felt like something to lean into. The familiar voices around you, the laughter, the ease of it all—it was a reminder. You were safe. You were here. And maybe, just maybe, the haze was beginning to lift.

---

The back garden of your house was alive in a different way days later with the rhythmic thud of the ball against the ground, the occasional smack of it colliding with the crossbar, and the relentless banter between Jack and Trent. It was a competition neither would admit to taking too seriously, but the way Trent’s brows furrowed and Jack’s smirk grew every time he landed a shot told a different story.

“Bro, just fucking hit it!” Trent whined, his frustration bleeding through as Jack took his time setting up his strike. They were deep into a game, who could hit the crossbar the most given 50 tries. They were nearing the fiftieth strike and Jack was trailing behind.  

“Gimme a minute, mate!” Jack shot back, eyeing the ball like he was lining up the perfect shot in a World Cup final rather than a backyard challenge. Trent groaned, shifting impatiently, but Jack ignored him, reassessing his stance before finally letting the ball fly. The crisp sound of leather meeting metal rang out as the ball ricocheted off the bar with precision. Jack’s lips curled into a barely-there smirk, pleased but refusing to show just how much he’d surprised himself. Trent, on the other hand, scowled. Jack wasn’t a professional footballer, nowhere near his level—but moments like this, when Trent could actually lose, were golden. It wasn’t about talent or skill. It was about how hilariously terrible Trent was at losing. Jack, now fully embracing the moment, plopped down onto the grass with a dramatic sigh, rocking onto his back, feet briefly in the air. He stretched out leisurely, basking in the satisfaction of having a shot at beating Trent at his own game. “Trenty, you got two more… gotta hit both, win by two…” Jack taunted, a teasing chuckle in his voice. He was finally… relaxed. Trent exhaled sharply, shaking out his shoulders as if preparing for a match-winning free kick in stoppage time. Jack and Trent didn’t need to speak more about you. It was obvious, out in the open, what needed to happen, what had happened so instead they did what they did best… laugh. Just lads being lads 

“Yeah, yeah, mate, I got it. I got it,” he muttered, his expression shifting into one of razor-sharp focus. He took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and stepped up. His leg pulled back in a perfect stride, ready to strike—but then, the unmistakable sound of the back door sliding open cut through the air. Even without looking, he felt you.  Trent’s focus lapsed. Your presence was as real to him as the ball at his feet. The way the air changed when you walked into a space, the way his body instinctively reacted, drawn to you before his brain even caught up. His focus flickered for the briefest moment—but it was enough. The ball flew off his boot, but the precision was gone. The strike was sloppy, mistimed. The ball sailed wide, nowhere near the target. Jack, seeing the perfect opportunity, didn’t let it slide. 

“Wayyyy!” he bellowed, mimicking an English football crowd heckling a poor attempt. He clapped his hands together, grinning wildly as he stood up and dusted his palms off on his shorts. “Sorry, lad… we keep going then. You lost it, bro.” Trent, stunned for a second, spun around in protest.

“Nah, nah, nah! I get a redo! No way, she distracted me. That’s not—” He stopped himself, gesturing wildly at you as if the mere fact of your existence had cost him the game. It was genuinely ridiculous how bad he was at losing. Delusional, even. But that was Trent—so incredibly competitive, so unwilling to accept defeat in even the silliest of games. And because you loved him, and always had, you found it painfully endearing. You crossed your arms, a knowing smirk creeping onto your lips as you watched him grumble, already gearing up to argue his case.

“Excuses, excuses,” Jack teased, shaking his head. Trent shot you a look, dramatic and wounded, like you’d betrayed him simply by existing in his line of sight. You only laughed, stepping closer, and with that, whatever frustration Trent had was gone. Because at the end of the day, no loss—no matter how much he hated them—mattered when you were there. Jack jogged up to Trent, shoving him roughly, laughter bubbling between them as they wrestled like kids in the schoolyard.

"Hey, c'mere..." Trent called out to you suddenly, swatting at Jack to get him off before jogging in your direction. The way he looked at you, slightly breathless from the game but entirely focused on you now, made your stomach flip. "You distracted me, you know," he smirked, reaching for your waist and pulling you flush against him. The movement was so unexpected that you let out a surprised giggle, tilting your head just out of reach of his kisses—not to reject them, but just to tease. In truth, you loved the feeling of his hands splayed over your bare skin, his warmth pressing into you, the way his scent mixed with the summer air, fresh-cut grass, and whatever faint cologne lingered on his shirt. His laugh, so genuine and perfect, sent your heart into overdrive. You hadn't even realized he was here. From inside, all you heard was their whining back and forth, the sounds of a game in progress. It had been a small surprise seeing him, but as he held you close, it felt... good. Normal. "Sorry, baby... I should've told you-" Trent muttered, suddenly realizing that he wasn't just at Jack's house; he was at yours. He hadn't told you he was coming, and there was an awkward flicker in his voice like he was afraid he'd overstepped.

"It's okay," you whispered, pressing your nose against his in reassurance. "It's good." Trent's breath hitched slightly. He had expected hesitation, maybe a flicker of hurt that he hadn't called ahead. Not anger, but something... instead, you just looked at him with soft eyes, your lips pursing slightly, silently asking for a kiss. He obliged instantly, cupping your face as he pressed his lips to yours, slow and warm, melting into the moment.

"Hey!" Jack's voice rang out, exaggeratedly impatient, feigned annoyance. "We're in the middle of a game!" His arms flew up dramatically, as if the fate of the world depended on their crossbar challenge. Trent pulled back with a grin, his lips curling into the most beautiful, mischievous smile you'd ever seen. Without warning, he bent low and tossed you over his shoulder with ease. You shrieked in laughter, gripping onto his back as he took off running toward Jack, your giggles filling the air. He kissed your thigh in front of Jack's face, smirking at his best mate's dramatic sigh, before carefully setting you down on the grass with such tenderness that it made your heart flutter. In that moment, everything felt light-like the weight you'd been carrying had momentarily lifted, leaving just the warmth of the sun, the sound of laughter, and the feeling of being wrapped in him.

“Alright, alright, game’s back on. I got distracted,” Trent announced, but not without shooting you a cheeky wink. You giggled again, your chest rising and falling with the remnants of laughter, still coming down from the sheer lightness of the moment. Jack scoffed, shaking his head as he nudged Trent toward the ball.

“Yeah, she’s been distracting you for years. Play the game, mate.” Jack complained but not without a tease. You curled your legs beneath you, settling comfortably onto the grass, watching the two most important people in your life go back and forth, their bond evident in every jab and shove. There was something mesmerizing about it—the way they could argue, tease, and compete, yet the love and loyalty between them never wavered. Trent refocused, rolling his shoulders back before hitting the ball with precision. The sharp crack of his foot against the leather was effortless, the ball soaring toward the crossbar and bouncing off with a satisfying clink. Another point to him. But just as he was about to take his next strike, he did something unexpected. Instead of immediately stepping up, he turned to you. His dark eyes locked onto yours, something playful and adoring dancing in them. He kissed his fingers, then pointed directly at you, his signature smirk tugging at his lips. Then, without breaking eye contact, he swung his leg back and struck the ball—smooth, confident, no hesitation. He barely turned to track its trajectory, his attention back fixed on you, his grin widening by the second. And then— Whack! The ball smacked the post with pinpoint accuracy. He didn’t even need to see it. The game set, finished, won.

“Oh, fuck you!” Jack whined, throwing his hands up in frustration, while you burst into laughter. Trent was at the end of the day a very very good footballer and equally pompous about it. 

“I’m a big game player, bro!” Trent laughed obnoxiously, basking in his win. He strutted towards you, brimming with triumph, before cupping your face between his hands and pressing a firm, eager kiss to your lips.

“Trying to impress me?” you murmured against his lips, pulling back just enough to tease him. Trent hummed smugly in response, his nose brushing against yours. Not wanting to leave Jack out, considering how much he always included you, you reached for Trent’s wrists, using them as leverage to pull yourself up.

“Okay, okay, my turn, Jacky!” you yelped, moving past Trent toward a loose ball. Jack grinned, passing it to you as you set it down near the edge of the 18-yard box. “If I hit it, you have to get dinner,” you challenged with a playful smirk. Jack chuckled, tilting his head with an exaggeratedly skeptical hum. 

“Yeah? Go on…” He rolled his eyes. Just as you prepared to take your shot, Trent leaned in and gave your ass a teasing slap. Jack was immediately on it, throwing a hand in the air as if holding an invisible card, his referee instincts kicking in. Trent lifted his hands in mock innocence, raising an eyebrow as if he had no idea what Jack was accusing him of.

“That’s a yellow…” Jack insisted, shaking his head with faux seriousness and gestured again giving him the imaginary card. You just laughed, shaking them both off as you focused on the ball. Taking a deep breath, you swung your foot through. It wasn’t perfect, not as effortless as Trent’s, but it floated just enough—clipping the top bar with a soft ting. You were beaming.

“Come on!!!!” Trent’s voice rang out across the garden, pure elation laced in every syllable. His excitement was so infectious you couldn’t help but giggle, heat rushing to your cheeks as he sprinted toward you. His arms wrapped around your waist seamlessly, lifting you off your feet like you weighed nothing, spinning you around in wild celebration.

“Fuck you both!” Jack yelped from behind, feigning annoyance, but the laughter bubbling in his voice betrayed him. Jack exhaled through his nose, giving you a slow, approving nod. 

“It’s what we do, bro!” Trent shot back through his grin, still twirling you in his arms like you were some sort of trophy. “My girl’s got tek you know!” His grip adjusted—one arm sliding down your back, the other hooking under your legs—before he scooped you up entirely, carrying you around the grass like he’d just won the Champions League.

“Dinner’s on you, Jacky lad!” you teased, your voice a mix of giggles and breathless excitement. Trent pressed frantic kisses along your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin, making you squirm in his hold. You squealed in protest, but he only laughed harder, dropping to the ground with you still in his grasp, landing in a dramatic sprawl on the grass. His arms tightened around you, refusing to let you go as you caught your breath, your body molded into his like a missing puzzle piece. Jack shook his head, hands on his hips as he watched the two of you tangled together. For the first time in what felt like forever, there were no shadows lingering around you, no weight pressing down, no tension knotting shoulders. Just light. Just love. You and Trent finally happy, finally safe, no tears, no anger, no fights, just you two doused in the setting sun, love and permanent smiles.

“Honestly…” Jack sighed, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He saw it now—how natural you and Trent were together, how safe you finally felt. “What do you lot want to eat then?” He asked.

“Mmm, pizza please,” you hummed, nuzzling your face into Trent’s neck, inhaling the warm, familiar scent of him as his fingers traced gentle patterns against your skin. Jack sauntered over to the edge of the grass where their belongings were scattered—phones, water bottles, and, conveniently for him, Trent’s Prada wallet. He plucked it up, flipping it open with exaggerated ease, fingers rummaging through its contents.

“And the Amex Centurion is fine, yeah?” Jack quipped, holding up Trent’s sleek black card with an impish grin. Trent’s head snapped up immediately, his brows furrowing before his jaw slacked in realization.

“Huh?…. Nah, wait, mate. Fuck right off—” he started, but before he could finish, Jack was already making a break for it.  Trent barely had time to place one last kiss against your temple before he was springing to his feet, launching into a full sprint after Jack, their laughter echoing through the garden. They barreled toward the house, limbs flailing, their rivalry turning into something straight out of a slapstick comedy as Jack fumbled with the sliding door, trying to shield himself. You sighed, a slow, contented exhale, and let yourself sink back into the grass. The sky stretched above you, painted in soft hues of pink, orange, and lilac, melting together at the edges like a watercolor. The clouds drifted lazily, moving at the same steady pace as your own heartbeat. The sun’s warmth seeped into your skin, a golden glow settling over everything. And then you felt it—really felt it. You were okay. For the first time in a long, long time, you were okay.

---

“I’ve been keeping a secret…” Layla’s voice was barely above a whisper as she tugged at the sleeve of your hoodie, pulling you into the hallway off the kitchen. Her eyes were wide, almost mischievous, but there was something serious beneath the playfulness. Her eyes darted around, checking for eavesdroppers, her whole demeanor screaming mischief.

“Another one? No thanks,” You smirked, your brows shooting up as you folded your arms across your chest. “What could you possibly be hiding?” You asked her at a normal volume, narrowing your eyes in suspicion, Layla took a deep breath, her lips twitching like she was trying to suppress a smile. Then she dropped the bomb she couldn’t hold onto anymore.

“Y/N…” Layla took a breath, her grip tightening on your wrist as if to steady herself. Then, with a look so grave it sent a shiver up your spine, she said it— “I slept at Noah’s.” Your jaw dropped. Your heart pounded so hard you were sure she could hear it.

“EXCUSE ME?!” You shrieked, voice bouncing off the walls of the hallway like an echo in a canyon.

“Shh! Shhh!” Layla panicked, her hands flying to your mouth as she glanced back toward the kitchen, dragging you further into the corridor. You could still hear Noah and Jack’s laughter mixing in the distance, the faint sound of the front door opening—Trent just arriving at the house. “We didn’t have sex,” she rushed to clarify, her expression dead serious. You cocked your head to the side, giving her a slow, knowing smirk. 

“Mmhmm, sure,” you teased, popping your lips before letting a wicked grin spread across your face. 

“I swear we didn’t!” she squealed, half defending herself, half laughing at her own situation.

“I just don’t believe you.”  You popped your lips, tilting your head with an infuriatingly knowing smirk. Layla let out a dramatic groan, but her cheeks flushing as she tried to double down. 

“I swear… Trust me, I—” She started to finish her sentence but suddenly dissolved into a fit of giggles, shaking her head like she couldn’t even process what she was saying or what happened. “No, but seriously, we didn’t,” she reiterated, though it was entirely unnecessary at this point. You raised a hand, gesturing for her to spill everything, and she did. Layla told you everything—every little detail you never needed (or wanted) to know about Noah. The way he looked at her, the way he held her, the way he made her feel. She took the bait, launching into every intimate detail about her night with Noah all the things she’d been dying to tell you—how he was charming, how he somehow managed to make her feel safe but turned on, how he pulled some kind of witchcraft on her, making her feel so sexy, yet so at ease.  “Like, I don’t know what juju that man has, but good lord…” Layla whispered, shaking her head with a dreamy sort of daze before she burst into laughter, hands flailing as she dramatically recounted the way Noah had completely bewitched her. You couldn’t help but laugh too, wrapping her in a playful hug as you both dissolved into giggles, the two of you stumbling slightly in the narrow hallway, barely able to contain your giddy energy.

“Jack really has great friends,” you mused teasingly, still giggling as you started walking back toward the kitchen, Layla beside you.

“Don’t say it like that.” She groaned but fell into a cheeky laugh. You shot her a wink, still grinning as you linked arms and continued walking. The boys’ voices grew louder—Jack laughing at something, Noah’s unmistakable banter in response—and then… Trent. You didn’t have to see him to feel him. The air shifted, that familiar pull settling deep in your stomach before your eyes even landed on him. The way he occupied a room, effortlessly magnetic, like some invisible string tying him to you no matter how much distance you tried to put between you. Jack had great friends, sure. But one of them had you utterly, helplessly in love—had for years. The distant sound of Trent’s voice carried through the house, and suddenly, your heart did something ridiculous—it skipped. Because if Noah had some sort of juju over Layla, then Trent… Trent had spent years casting a spell on you. One you had no intention of ever breaking.

“Y/N, you can’t meddle though, yeah?” Layla’s voice was hushed but firm as you both stepped into the kitchen, where all the boys were gathered but still on the other side of the room.She gave you a pointed look, her eyes gleaming with both warning and amusement. You scoffed, eyes widening as if she’d just accused you of a crime. 

“When have I ever meddled?!” you yelped, clutching your chest in mock offense. Layla didn’t even need to say anything—her face alone was enough of a response. “Like, all anyone does is meddle with me. Meddle in my life, my relationships, everything,” you huffed dramatically, crossing your arms. It wasn’t even a lie. Lately, it felt like everyone had something to say about your choices, your love life, Trent. Layla just shook her head at you, her expression unimpressed. 

“Nothing. Not a word.” she warned lightheartedly, her voice quieter now, but the look in her eyes said she meant it. You pursed your lips, sealing them like a vow, and parted ways with her as you moved toward Trent, who was sitting at the kitchen counter. He was busy laughing at something Jack had just said, but the second your hands slid around his waist, dipping under the soft fabric of his jumper, he felt you. Trent shivered slightly at the cold touch of your fingers against his abs, the drag of your nails on his skin, a sharp inhale slipping from his lips. His body instantly relaxed into yours as your head found a home on his shoulder.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he purred, tilting his head back, trying to reach your lips. You met him halfway, letting his mouth brush against yours in the softest, laziest kiss.

“Hi,” you giggled against his lips, the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin as his mouth curled into a perfect pink, pouty smile. Jack less amused by Trent’s lips couldn’t resist a little tease after overhearing you and Layla moments ago. 

“Yeah, well, I just wish you wouldn’t meddle with my mate in my kitchen,” Jack interrupted, his voice laced with teasing disapproval before he picked up a grape and threw it at Trent’s head. The grape bounced off Trent’s temple, and he barely reacted, just chuckled and picked it up, lobbing it with some arch across the room with perfect accuracy. Noah, ever the chaos magnet, opened his mouth and caught it effortlessly in his mouth, chewing with a smug grin.

“Eh, meddling can be a good thing,” Noah added through a mouthful of grape, his words slightly muffled. His eyes flickered toward Layla, and before anyone could react, he winked at her. You felt Layla stiffen across the room. It took everything in you not to react. Not to squeal or poke fun or say something incriminating. Instead, you bit down on your lip so hard you nearly hurt yourself, gripping Trent’s jumper for support as you fought the urge to explode. Nothing. Not a word, just as she said. But God, was it hard.

---

Noah strolled back into the kitchen later that night, his presence easy and familiar as you stood at the counter, halfway through preparing dinner for what felt like an entire army. It wasn’t an official movie night—not really—since no one had agreed on a film, and the TV in the living room was flipping between some rugby games. Jack had a few of his mates over, you had Layla, and somehow, that meant you were now in charge of feeding everyone. You sighed, silently cursing your own generosity.

“Alright?” Noah cooed as he made his way toward the refrigerator, his tone warm and teasing, as if he could feel your exhaustion. You hummed in response, nodding slightly, your focus still on the chopping board in front of you. Your hands moved on autopilot, slicing ingredients, measuring seasonings. But when you caught sight of the butter near your workspace, you hesitated, remembering something.

“You can’t have dairy, right?” you asked, glancing up at him with a soft smile as you cheekily slid the butter away from you. Noah, mid-search in the fridge, looked up in slight surprise before a smirk curved onto his lips. 

“Yeah, sorry… Thank you for remembering.” He answered you. You shook your head as if to say it’s nothing, but then he noticed the olive oil sitting on a lower shelf. Without missing a beat, he grabbed it and slid the non-dairy alternate across the marble countertop toward you. A silent, unspoken exchange. You took it without a second thought, pouring some into the pan.

“So, what’s been up with you?” The question fell from your lips naturally, without much thought. But then, as soon as you asked it, you realized. Shit. Would he mention Layla? Would he talk about his night? Her night? Maybe Layla was right. Maybe you did meddle. Noah, either unaware of your overthinking or simply choosing to ignore it, leaned back against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles. 

“Eh, laying low… looking out after you.” That stupid, knowing smirk of his made you roll your eyes instantly.

“Shut up.” You scoffed, reaching for the salt and sprinkling it into the pot of boiling water. The hiss of the bubbles matched your playful annoyance. Noah chuckled, amused, before pushing off the counter and grabbing a handful of grapes from a bowl nearby. He popped one into his mouth, watching you as if waiting for you to break—to prod him for more information, to slip up and meddle. You wouldn’t. At least… you’d try not to.

“Nah, just chilling though…” Noah’s voice was casual, filling the comfortable silence between you. He popped another grape into his mouth, chewing slowly, but you barely acknowledged him, too focused on stirring the simmering sauce in the pan. You could feel him still standing there, though. He wasn’t just lingering—he was building up to something. “Erm… quick question for ya…” He cleared his throat, the shift in his tone so subtle it might’ve gone unnoticed if you hadn’t known exactly where this was going.

“Shoot.” You finally turned to him, brow raised, curiosity feigned. Noah scratched the back of his neck, then shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. 

“Yeah… just curious…Erm… you know if Lays is seeing anyone?” He asked sheepishly. You felt your entire body internally scream, but on the outside, you played it smooth. Too smooth. You let out a slow, measured breath, forcing your expression into something casual, as if the question didn’t make you want to combust.

“No, she’s just chilling, laying low, I think,” you replied, your voice laced with an effortless, knowing smile, borrowing his words. There was no indication that you knew anything more than what he was asking. Noah, however, was suspicious. His head tilted slightly, his brows furrowing, eyes narrowing on you as if you were some sort of enigma. 

“Not gonna grill me with questions?” He looked at you curiously.  You shrugged, keeping the smile on your lips. 

“No… should I?” You looked back. His eyes narrowed even further. 

“Nah, fuck off—what’d she tell you?” He let out a laugh, shaking his head at you. Your lips curled as you bit back a giggle, but it was no use.

“Noah has a crushhhhh,” you sang, your voice playful and teasing as you reached out to squeeze his arm.

“Nah, see…” He scoffed, laughing as he shook your hand off him, pretending to be unbothered. But the slight redness in his ears gave him away. He turned away from you, making a beeline for the exit, but not before tossing a cheeky, mocking, “Thank you for making dinner, Y/N,” over his shoulder. Like he hadn’t just asked about Layla. Like you hadn’t reacted exactly how he suspected you would. And as he disappeared from the kitchen, you couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face.

---

The low hum of the TV filled the dark cinema room, the glow from the screen casting soft shadows over you and Trent as you crawled up his body, giggling softly after you’d finished cleaning up after dinner.  He let you, his strong arms instinctively wrapping around you, pulling you close, like he always did. His warmth, his scent, the way his fingers ran up and down your back absentmindedly -it all made you feel so safe, so at home. Everyone had gone home, save Noah. And Jack had popped over to Megan’s but said he’d be back tonight. Layla left a bit ago too and so for now, at least until whatever was on tv ended it was just the three of you.

"Guess what?" you whispered, lips brushing against his ear as you pressed a quick kiss there. Trent hummed in response, shifting slightly to get more comfortable, tilting his head to the side so you had more room to kiss his neck. His hands tightened around you, fingers spreading across your back. "He kissed Layla," you murmured, meddling, voice playful, teasing. Trent tensed beneath you, his body stiffening in surprise as he suddenly gripped your waist and pulled you back to look at you properly. His jaw slacked, his lips parting before pulling into the most amused, stunned grin. His eyes were wide, flickering between you and where Noah sat across the room, completely unaware.

"No," Trent whispered, like he couldn't quite believe it. His eyes lit up, Trent loved some gossip. You grinned, biting your lip, nodding as you snuggled back into his chest. Trent's wide eyes darted to Noah, watching him lounge in the chair, his face relaxed, completely unbothered. Noah must have caught the look from the corner of his eye because he sighed, shaking his head, still not bothering to turn around. 

"Stop," he muttered, his tone flat, already knowing exactly what was being said and going through Trent's head. You burst into giggles, burying your face against Trent's chest, your whole body shaking from the effort of keeping quiet. Trent raised his brows at you, biting back his own grin, but decided to leave it. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Noah didn't say anything else, just carried on watching the game like nothing had happened. And eventually, he called it a night, grabbing his things and heading out, leaving just you and Trent alone in the house. The second the front door shut, Trent pulled you completely on top of him with a mischievous smirk.

"Been waiting to get you alone… " he murmured, his lips brushing against yours, the only thing separating you from another long night of trouble. You leaned forward with a whimper and sentences full of sin. Trent's hands gripped your hips firmly, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was grounding himself in the moment, like he couldn't believe you were actually here-straddling him, whispering sinful promises into his ear. His dark eyes flickered with something primal, something possessive.

"T..." You whispered, your lips grazing the sensitive skin of his neck, leaving featherlight kisses that had him exhaling a sharp breath. He hummed, his hands sliding up your back, fingertips teasing beneath your shirt. 

"What do you need, pretty girl?" He asked smugly, his voice thick with desire.

"You. Please." You murmured, sitting up fully on his lap, locking your eyes with his. Trent's smirk widened. 

"Yeah?" He tilted his head, his hands sliding lower to grip your ass, kneading it in his palms like he'd been dying to do it all day, dying to do it for years. You nodded, your lips parting as you watched him take in the sight of you, the way his eyes darkened, how his tongue flicked out to wet his lips.

"Do you know how long l've wanted you in here?" His voice was low, rough, like he was holding himself back. 

"Tell me..." You swallowed, biting your lip as heat pooled in your stomach. 

"The amount of times l've sat in here and thought about you-" He exhaled, shaking his head, his fingers flexing against your thighs. "Fuck, you don't even wanna know." Your stomach tightened at his admission, and your hands slid up his chest, gripping his shoulders.

"Baby," you whispered, leaning in so your lips ghosted over his, teasing. "Tell me all the places you've wanted me..." You dragged your nails lightly down his back, loving the way his breath hitched. "I want you to fuck me everywhere you've ever thought about..." Trent groaned, his hands squeezing your ass again, harder this time. His smirk turned lazy, dangerous.

"That's a lot of places..." He murmured, his voice thick with promise, his hands gripping your hips, pressing you down against him so you could feel exactly how much he wanted you. Your stomach flipped, your heart raced.

"Good," you whispered, dragging your lips over his jaw. "We have time." The cinema room was dark, the soft glow of whatever was on the telly casting just enough light to illuminate Trent's face as he looked up at you, his pupils blown wide with desire. His hands roamed your body, gripping, teasing, exploring like he couldn't get enough-like he never would. You straddled him, your thighs wrapped around his waist, completely lost in the way his mouth moved against yours-hungry, demanding, possessive. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing a breathy moan from you as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding up beneath your shirt, fingers trailing over your skin, making you shiver but you were desperate and he was moving too slow, so you took control, peeling your top off over your head leaving you completely bare, completely on display just for him.

"Fuck, you're so perfect," he groaned, his lips moving down to your jaw, then lower, his teeth grazing your neck before sucking lightly, knowing exactly how to make you fall apart. Your fingers tangled in his short curls, tugging slightly as you rocked against him, feeling the heat between you intensify. His grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, his breathing growing heavier, more erratic.

"T..." You whimpered, pressing your forehead to his, your lips brushing

"I got you, baby," he whispered, his hands sliding down your back, gripping your ass as he shifted beneath you, making you gasp. Everything was a blur of heat, of whispered names and desperate touches, of breathless moans swallowed by deep kisses. His hands worshipped your body, his touch electric, igniting every nerve as he pulled you closer, as he took you apart piece by piece. And when it was over, when you were spent and tangled up in his arms, your head resting against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, you sighed in pure contentment. Trent pressed a lazy kiss to your hair, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles on your bare back.

"So good for me," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.

“What you wanted?”You whispered, nuzzling into his warmth, feeling completely safe, completely his.

“Mmmhmm.” He hummed. After a few moments of blissful silence, you smirked, tilting your head to look up at him. 

"So... where's next on the list?" You asked. Trent chuckled, the sound deep and full of mischief. He shook his head with a grin before gripping your thighs.

"List is fucking pages, pretty girl" he teased, effortlessly lifting you into his arms. You giggled, wrapping yourself around him as he stood up with ease. "C’mon," he murmured, carrying you out of the cinema room. "We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” He whispered into your ear and you felt yourself fall a little bit more with him  and maybe a little bit more in lust.

---

When Jack came back to the house that night, the silence immediately put him on edge. It was too quiet—unnaturally quiet. Noah’s car was gone, but Trent’s was still parked outside, which wasn’t unusual. He figured you two were probably just watching something or maybe gone upstairs. Nothing alarming. But then he heard it. A breathy sound he didn’t recognize. A soft, muffled noise that made his brow furrow. His lips twisted in confusion. He took a few more steps, rounding the corner—

“Oh my fucking god!” Jack yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls. His entire body jolted back as if he’d been physically slapped by the sight in front of him. “Nah! I'm gonna be sick. I changed my mind! You can’t be together! Oh my fucking god!” Sheer horror plastered itself across his face as he smacked a hand over his eyes, his entire existence now dedicated to unseeing what he had just seen. You gasped, mortified, your body collapsing against Trent’s chest in sheer panic on the sofa in the living room. The third location on Trent’s list, although maybe the laziest and arguably the stupidest considering Jack had said he was coming home. 

“Shit, sorry, mate…” Trent muttered, his voice shaking with amusement as he scrambled for a blanket, tossing it over your half-dressed torso in a poor attempt at damage control.But then—he laughed. Jack whipped around, absolutely appalled. 

“It’s not funny, bro!” he shouted, his voice teetering on the edge of trauma. His hands rubbed aggressively over his face like he was trying to scrub the memory out of existence. Meanwhile, Trent’s bare chest shook beneath you as he tried (and failed) to contain his laughter. You, on the other hand, wanted the earth to swallow you whole. “Y/N!” Jack practically yelled again, voice strained with disgust. “That’s so gross! Put your fucking clothes on!” He let out a loud, exaggerated grunt, facing away so fast it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash.

“Oh my god,” you whispered into Trent’s skin, too mortified to lift your head. It was dark enough, but still—the silhouettes alone were scarring. Jack continued, pacing aggressively as if sheer movement could shake this nightmare from his brain. You groaned against Trent’s chest while he laughed like this was the funniest thing to ever happen to him. And maybe it was. He was just genuinely so in shock and mildly disinterested in Jack considering he had you on top of him without a top on. For Jack, though? It was a fucking tragedy. He left without another word.

"You may have to move," Trent murmured against your neck, his voice thick with laughter, warm breath ghosting over your skin. One arm remained splayed across your lower back, securing the blanket over you both, while the other reached blindly along the sofa in search of your discarded shirt.

"I know..." you groaned softly, pressing your forehead to his bare shoulder, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Jack had walked in. Jack. Your brother. You squeezed your eyes shut at the memory, a mortified laugh bubbling in your throat. Trent felt it-the way your body tensed slightly against him. And for once, he didn't tease. He just kissed your temple gently, the weight of his lips lingering for a second too long.

"I just wanna be able to fuck you whenever I want," he whispered against your skin, voice tinged with playfulness, but beneath that, something deeper, something real. Your breath hitched as his lips moved lower, his teeth grazing just below your jaw. The warmth of his body, the scent of him surrounding you-it made your stomach flip.

"T," you giggled, shaking your head, fingers absently tracing over his ribs, feeling the way his chest vibrated with quiet laughter. His hand continued searching for your shirt, but when his fingers finally closed around fabric, he realized it wasn't yours. He gave a little huff of frustration before handing you his own instead.

"Here, pretty girl, as much as I hate it, think should put something on" he muttered, pressing it into your hands. You sat up slightly, shifting against his lap as you pulled the shirt over your head. It was soft, oversized, and smelled exactly like him-clean, musky, safe. You curled your fingers into the hem, glancing up at him through your lashes.

"Yeah?" Your voice was soft, a little shy. Trent's gaze flickered between your lips and your eyes, something unreadable settling over his features.

"Yeah," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then, without hesitation, "I think you should move in with me." The words fell so effortlessly from his lips that for a second, you weren't sure if he even realized what he'd just said. Your body stilled, your fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt.

"Really?" Your voice came out quieter than expected, unsure, as if you were waiting for him to backtrack. Trent's brows furrowed slightly at your hesitation.

"Yeah, really," he repeated, tilting his head, studying your reaction. You swallowed hard, licking your lips.

"T... you don't have to say that." you replied worrying this offer was circumstantial.  His lips parted slightly, realization dawning in his dark eyes. 

"Pretty girl," he sighed, his voice softer now. "I want to say it. I mean it." Your breath caught in your throat. "I think it'd be good for us," he continued, his fingers finding your chin, tilting it up just slightly. "Good for you. When the season kicks off, I want to come home to you. No use in being apart when we don't have to be." Your lips parted slightly, heart pounding as he searched your face for anything-doubt, hesitation, uncertainty. But all he found was soft eyes, an even softer smile. "I just always thought..." He paused, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "That's where we were going." Your chest rose and fell a little harder, your fingers curling around his wrist, holding him there.

"We are," you whispered, voice barely above a breath. Then, a giggle slipped from your lips, your nose scrunching slightly. "I'd like that." Trent let out a small, relieved laugh, his shoulders relaxing. His expression softened into something completely smitten as he leaned in, pressing the gentlest kiss to your nose.

"Good."

---

“Jack, I’m so sorry.” Your voice was small, hesitant, as you stepped into the  cinema room. Jack had holed himself up in here since yesterday, ever since you’d scarred him for life by getting caught on top of Trent. He hadn’t even gone up to his room last night—he’d slept here instead, fully unwilling to risk hearing anything from upstairs. Now, in the quiet morning light, you finally had a chance to talk, just the two of you. Jack didn’t even look at you at first. His eyes stayed locked on the TV, the remote balanced lazily in his hand. 

“Gross…” he muttered flatly, before finally glancing at you. “Fine, but gross.” His expression was smug, but there was no real malice behind it, and you exhaled with a relieved smile.

“I’m sorry! I forgot you said you were coming back,” you whined, plopping down onto the sofa beside him, tucking your feet up beneath you. Jack scoffed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He waved a dismissive hand, chuckling slightly. It was equal parts acceptance and tease. Still, you couldn’t shake the lingering guilt that gnawed at you. You imagined moments like this, well maybe not exactly like this, you didn’t want to relive this embarrassment but moments of comfort and familiarity with your brother. If you moved out, you wouldn’t have that. You wouldn’t be able to walk to the next room and find him. 

“I am really sorry,” you mumbled, your voice quieter now. Jack must’ve picked up on the shift, because he turned his head to look at you properly, his brows furrowing slightly.

“It’s fine, Y/N,” he said, but the usual bite in his voice was gone. Now, there was something softer, something more concerned. “You alright?” You hesitated, picking at a loose thread on the edge of your sleeve.

“Yeah, just… yesterday Trent said something… I don’t know how legitimate it is, but I just don’t know,” you rambled, half-talking to yourself, half-talking to Jack. Jack’s posture stiffened just slightly. His caution was obvious.

“What did he say…?” He asked and your stomach twisted, a lump forming in your throat. You suddenly felt young—like his little sister all over again, sitting beside him, looking to him for reassurance. You swallowed. 

“Erm…” You hesitated for a second longer, then finally forced the words out, barely above a whisper. “He asked me to move in with him.” Jack didn’t react at first. His face didn’t give anything away. You watched him anxiously, waiting for some kind of response—something, anything. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“Oh.” Just oh. Your heart sank.

“I don’t have to… because, Jack, you’ve taken care of me my entire life,” you blurted, speaking a mile a minute, terrified he’d be upset. “I know that, and I’m so grateful for everything you do for me. And I know—even if it’s little things—I help out here, so if you want me to—” Jack cut you off, his voice calm but firm. 

“You want to though, yeah?” He asked. His eyes were serious, searching yours. You swallowed hard, nodding sheepishly, lips pouting slightly. Jack sighed, his face softening. 

“Y/N, you’re my little sister… but you’re also an adult. I know that. And you don’t owe me anything.” His lips curled into a small smile, his voice reassuring. “I’d do everything I’ve ever done for you a hundred times over, no questions asked.” It was comforting, but you caught it—the flicker of sadness in his eyes. It was so subtle that no one else would’ve noticed, but you did. The kind of sadness Jack would never put into words.

“Thank you, Jacky,” you murmured, voice quiet as you tried to fight the lump in your throat. You glanced down, then back up at him with wide, hesitant eyes. “I know you’re my big brother, but you do know you’re, like, my best friend too, right?” Jack’s lips twitched into a smirk, but he let you finish. “So if he actually wants me to move in… and if I do… can we still do our things?” You hated how small your voice sounded, but Jack understood instantly.

“’Course,” he said immediately, nudging your ankle playfully. “Always. My best friend too, yeah?” You nodded, lips curling into a small, sad smile. Jack exhaled, leaning back into the sofa. 

“It’ll be good… about time he took you off my hands.” You let out a breathy giggle, but there was a weight to it. A bittersweetness.

“Yeah… about time,” you muttered under your breath. Jack glanced at you, then turned back to the screen. 

“Love you, alright? Where you live doesn’t change that.” You bit the inside of your cheek, blinking rapidly as your vision blurred. Jack’s voice was so steady, but you felt the weight behind it. Then he added, softer this time, “Mum would be really happy. She’d want this for you.” Your heart ached. “She knew you loved him. And he loved you.” You sucked in a breath, eyes welling up. Jack’s jaw flexed as he stared straight at the TV, refusing to look at you. He wasn’t stoic about Mum—not really. He just didn’t let himself show it. But right now, his voice was full of quiet emotion. “I knew too…” he admitted, his tone a little lighter. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t the best cheerleader from the jump, but if you two are happy, I’m happy. She’d be happy. Dad will be too, Y/N.” That was it. That was what broke you. Without a word, you shifted across the sofa, wrapping your arms around him tightly. Jack let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding and instinctively pulled you closer, draping an arm around you. He pressed a firm, warm kiss to the top of your head. “All good,” he murmured. You sniffled, tucking yourself against him. Jack just held you there, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly against your arm, neither of you in any rush to move. 

Eventually you settled back into your own seats, You and Jack sat in comfortable silence for a long while, the TV playing in the background though neither of you were really watching.

“Think T’s having a movie night tonight if you’re interested,” Jack muttered eventually, his eyes focused on his phone as he typed out a text.

“I know.” You replied, unphased. Jack’s body tensed for a brief second—just a subtle, unconscious reaction—but you caught it. He still wasn’t used to this. You knew that. But he was trying, and you knew that too. He’d told you as much an hour ago, but you still couldn’t help yourself. “Jack… are you actually okay with this?” You mumbled, voice hesitant. Jack didn’t look at you right away, just let out a slow breath before nodding.

“Yeah. I am.” He confirmed, his tone even, honest. Then, after a beat, his lips twitched into a smirk. “Just don’t hook up with him on the sofa in front of me again and we’ve got no problems.” 

“Oh my God, shut up.” You let out a groan, rolling your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. Jack just chuckled, shaking his head, clearly pleased with himself.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - okay, now actually The Final Chapter xx

[yamamasjumpercables]

Cowboys Don’t Cry

(Chapter Three)

Pairing: Cowboy!Bangchan x Fem!Reader

A/n: i kept fighting on if I wanted this series to be first or second person (first was better)

Summary: Y/n and Bangchan were childhood friends until he moved away to the big city, leaving Y/n heartbroken. Years later Chan comes back to town for good, now he has to fix what he broke all those years ago.

AU: Cowboy/Country Boy

Trope(s): Childhood Friends - to - Lovers, Grumpy x Sunshine, Slow Burn

Genre: Rom-com, Drama and Angst

Warning(s): 18+ rating (cussing)

The sun has fallen, covering this small town with darkness. Only the bar graced the town with light. Laughter was the only thing that was heard from this lively place. Leeknow had texted Chan earlier to meet him and the guys at the bar to catch up.

Chan walked into the bar, throwing a few “hi’s” and “long time no see” to the people he has left in the town. “Chan over here” I.n said waving him over. “Oh hey guys” Chan said happily, exchanging a few hugs and dap ups. “So how you been, how is city life treating you?” Hyunjin asks eagerly, as Chan sits down next to the seat next to Changbin. “It’s good but, I always miss home” Chan says smiling. “And when you mean home you mean us right?” Seungmin says raising an eyebrow. “Of course I mean you guys” Chan says laughing.

The night went on with laughter, drinking and talking. Until Felix decided to address the elephant that wasn’t in the room. “So did you see Y/n” Felix asks as he takes a sip of his rosey drink. “Yea I did just the other day at the hardware store” Chan says looking down at his water downed drink. “She looks the same, well other than the fact that her hair got longer, and she got a bit taller” Chan says thinking about his previous interaction with you. “And she finally grew into her face” Leeknow adds. “And she can strangle us in our sleep” Seungmin says chuckling.

“Her ass got bigger too” Han adds with a laugh. “Oh my goodness here we go again” Hyunjin says annoyed. “He’s not wrong though” I.n says shrugging his shoulders. “Ok nevermind all that, she just grew up gracefully” Felix says admiringly. “You sound like a grandma, just say she’s beautiful” Seungmin says taking a bugle of his fries. “Well she was always beautiful you know, and now that she’s older she looks even better.” Chan says smiling. “Her hair frames her face perfectly, her cheeky smile that-“ Chan continues before getting cut off by the boys booing him. “Just say you’re in love with her dude” changbin says rolling his eyes. “What no no no I’m not in love with her” Chan says embarrassed, as his ears turn red. “Sure Chan and Han has a girl in his bed every night” Hyunjin says with an unimpressed look. “Hey why bring me into this” Han says as he throws his hands up in defense.

“Shhh Han” I.n says patting Han’s back. “We are focusing on the wrong thing here, how did the conversation go with Y/n anyways?” Leeknow asks shifting the attention to Chan. “Um it was something, she said I disappointed her, do you guys know what she’s talking about?” Chan asks the boys. “I-Ooh wow I don’t feel good” Han says anxiously. “What does she mean by that guys?” Chan asks again. “Chan don’t worry, it’s most likely nothing” I.n says trying to reassure him. “Yea you know how she is” Seungmin adds. “Should I talk to her about it then?” Chan asks nervously. “NO!” The boys say simultaneously. “Oh ok I’ll just leave it alone then” Chan says begging to sulk. “Yea it’s for the best” Hyunjin says.

As the night continued Chan never stopped thinking about what I meant by him disappointing me. He wanted to understand what he possibly could’ve done. Is this why i had such a bad attitude with him earlier? Chan’s mind kept running in circles trying to think of some explanation, in the midst he started to overthink.

What if I never talk to him again, did I hate him? Chan had to know. He drove to my home, it was already late. Yet Chan wanted his answer right there and then to relieve his thoughts. As soon as he arrived to my house he rung the doorbell waiting for my response.

I walked down stairs unaware of the unwanted visitor at my doorstep. “Han it’s too late for this, please don’t tell me you had another nightmare” I said tiredly as I rubbed my eyes. I opened the door to reveal Chan. “Oh it’s you, why are you here” I say crossing my arms. “I know I shouldn’t be here but I needed to ask you about something you said to me” Chan says fidgeting with his nails. “What did I say to you?” I say tiredly. “You said I disappointed you, I want you to shed some light on that please” Chan says eagerly.

“What’s there to shed light on, you disappointed me so are we done with this now” I say closing my door, only for it to be stopped by Chan’s foot. “No we aren’t done here” Chan says opening the door. “Listen its to late for this I’m tired ok so just leave me alone” I say annoyed, finally slamming the door in Chan’s face. Chan stood at the doorstep step, confused and hurt. What did he do? And how could fix it?

Chapter 4 coming soon…

[kissyforkoo]

Almost Over You

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Angst, Exes to Lovers

Warnings: Explicit smut (18+), heavy emotions, ex-lovers struggling with feelings, jealousy

It was supposed to be just another night out.

Y/N sat at the bar, twirling the straw in her drink as laughter and music filled the space around her. Her friends were lost in their own conversations, but her mind was elsewhere—on him.

Lee Heeseung.

Her ex. The man she spent months trying to forget.

And yet, here she was, stealing glances at him from across the club. He was with his own group of friends, leaning against the bar, looking unfairly good in a black button-up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He laughed at something a girl he’s with said, his smile hitting her like a punch to the gut.

It had been six months since they broke up. Six months of pretending she was over him.

But all it took was one look, and she knew she wasn’t.

She was about to turn away when Heeseung’s eyes met hers.

Her breath caught.

His smile faltered for just a second before he schooled his expression into something unreadable.

She looked away first, heart hammering.

She needed air.

Y/N stepped outside, the cool night breeze kissing her skin. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady herself.

“You still do that when you’re nervous.”

Her eyes snapped open at the familiar voice. She turned to see Heeseung standing a few feet away, hands tucked into his pockets, watching her carefully.

She exhaled, crossing her arms. “What are you doing here?”

“You left in a hurry.” He took a step closer. “I wanted to check on you.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “You don’t get to do that anymore, Heeseung.”

His jaw clenched. “I know. But I still care.”

She hated how much those words affected her.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “It’s hard enough seeing you, knowing you’ve moved on.”

His brows furrowed. “Is that what you think?”

“You seem fine,” she muttered, looking away. “Meanwhile, I’m—”

“You’ve never left my mind” he said, stepping even closer, his voice low and strained.

Her breath hitched.

“You think I moved on?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ve been going crazy without you, Y/N. But I thought you wanted this.”

Tears burned at the back of her eyes. “I never wanted this. I just thought you did.”

Heeseung cursed under his breath. “God, we’re idiots.”

A shaky laugh left her lips. “Yeah.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, Heeseung reached out, cupping her cheek hesitantly, as if giving her a chance to pull away.

She didn’t.

His lips crashed against hers.

It was desperate, messy, full of the months they had spent apart. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, as his arms wrapped around her, pressing her against the wall.

“Come with me,” he murmured against her lips.

She knew where this was going. She knew she should stop it.

But she didn’t.

She nodded.

——————————————————————————

They barely made it through the door of his apartment before Heeseung had her pressed against it, hands exploring, lips trailing fire down her neck.

“Missed you,” he rasped, his breath hot against her skin.

She shivered. “Then show me.”

He groaned, lifting her effortlessly, carrying her to the bedroom. Clothes were shed in between desperate touches and needy kisses.

When he finally sank into her, they both gasped, foreheads pressed together as they moved in sync. It felt like coming home, like they had never been apart.

“Heeseung,” she moaned, nails digging into his back.

His lips brushed against her temple. “I got you, baby.”

The way he held her, touched her, made love to her—it wasn’t just lust. It was something deeper, something they both had been starving for.

And when it was over, when they lay tangled in the sheets, Heeseung pulled her close, his hand running through her hair.

“I’m not losing you again,” he whispered.

Y/N swallowed hard, fingers tracing patterns on his bare chest.

“Then don’t,” she whispered back.

And just like that, the space between them no longer existed.

[theghostofashton]

wip wednesday

thank you @strandnreyes @welcometololaland @nisbanisba @henrygrass @paperstorm

@carlossreaders @alrightbuckaroo @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @bonheur-cafe for the tags <3

wrapping up the grief group au and diving back into exes to lovers, here's a little from that

The first GSA meeting of the new semester happens on a Tuesday. Carlos is excited. He tries to stay mostly hands-off during these meetings, leave them in the guidance of the kids. Usually, he’s there to sit off to the side and step in in case things get heated (which they have, a couple times, so his presence is definitely required), but today, he’s going to be leading the meeting. He leads a few meetings per semester to take care of housekeeping stuff and introduce new members to the club. One of the things he liked most about Queer Union was that it was open to everyone, all through the year. There were new people at every meeting. It never felt like an exclusive club that closed its doors after the sign-up period ended. The only thing they did headcounts for were events that involved food, to make sure they had enough to feed everyone. He’s implemented that exact policy here, and it’s worked really well. He’s thrilled every time a new kid walks timidly into the room, sets their stuff down at an empty desk and listens in on the meeting. Some of them never come back, but they came once. That’s enough for him. “Mr. Reyes!” He whirls around just as he hears the voice, and smiles. “Hey, Jordan,” he says. “How are you?” “Good,” she says, pushing a lock of hair over one shoulder. She drops her backpack on the first empty chair she spots. “I’m really excited. I missed the club over winter break.” “That’s great to hear,” he says. “How are your classes?” She groans. “They’re good, except for Geometry. Ms. Mitchell gives us so much homework! And most of it is just review! We already learned all this stuff and did homework on it.” “If it’s review, it’ll be easy, right?” he says. “Won’t take you long to do.” “That’s true,” she replies. “I just hate homework.” Carlos laughs. “Me too. It was my least favorite part about grad school, for sure.” “So, why do you give it?” “Because the board tells me I have to,” Carlos says over his shoulder. He goes over to the teacher’s desk and slips his phone out of his pocket and into his bag, turning back just in time to watch Jordan enthusiastically greet a girl walking into the room, both of them wearing grins as the new girl yanks Jordan into a hug.  Carlos draws in a breath, and lets it out slowly. Sometimes being here makes him sadder than he’d like to admit. It’s hard to think about the opportunities he wishes he’d known he had access to. When he was their age, he was so worried about anyone finding out this thing about himself he thought tainted him in some way, that he thought he needed to close himself off. He thought that was the only option, and when that didn’t make him feel right, he didn’t know where else to turn.  When he got to college, he spent so much time reeling, struggling from the years before and freaking out over how much his life had expanded in such a short amount of time. He had all this freedom and no idea what to do with it. He was overwhelmed. He didn’t know where to turn, and if it wasn’t for TK dragging him along to club meetings and hangouts with his friends, Carlos doesn’t know where he would be. And he treasures that time, and the people he met, but it also just feels like pure regret.

no pressure tagging @sanjuwrites @lightningboltreader @reyesstrand and anyone else who wants to share!

[urauntiefaye]

what do you think &team’s ideal types are? i’m feeling extra delusional today 🤪

&Team Ideal Types🌸

WC: 834

TW: None? I mean I talk about their possible ideal types but that should be all, let me know if I do miss anything

A/N: This is completely my opinion in no ways am I saying this is how it actually is.

Kei-

I feel like Kei might like someone who's just as energetic as him. Along with someone who has that edgy feminine mature vibe to them ya know?. He wants to be able to go out and explore with his significant other. Also wants someone who is confident in themselves and is fairly independent. Like that strong girl boss vibe. Someone who can take care of themselves but won't mind if they let him help them in the occasion.

Fuma-

I think and this could just be me being biased, but I think Fuma might like someone who's also into exercising and taking care of their physical health like him. It's not a must for him but I think he would like gym date nights ngl. But like I said it's not a must for him, I feel like he mostly cares about if you two can get along. So someone who's into similar things like him, like Pokemon. He also gives vibes off wanting someone who has that mature look but less edgy.

Nicholas-

Someone who has a good fashion sense. Nicholas really likes fashion and I really think he'd prefer if his partner did too. I think aesthetic wise he might be into someone with more of an edge look. Like a laid back edgy obviously put effort in if that makes any sense. He wants someone who's chill too, but is able to be serious when the time calls for it. He honestly just wants someone he can vibe with despite what kind of aesthetic they have tbh.

Euijoo-

hmm, someone who has that cute soft vibe? Like he doesn't really mind what his partner looks like but I feel like he's more drawn to someone who's more earthy. Like a down to earth chill person. Best bet this man loves a bookworm. Wants someone who is willing to take care of him when he's down. I also feel like he'd like someone who is more outgoing and sociable. He doesn't mind if they aren't but having someone be more extroverted in a way helps?.

Yuma-

Someone he can tease playfully. He doesn't want to straight out bully them, but I feel like Yuma likes someone who is easy to tease and will tease back. He lives for that playful banter. He also wants someone he can fully trust and feel comfortable with. He wants to be able to lay down with them and just talk. Either it be about silly things or you two are trauma dumping. Oh, also he wants someone who doesn't judge too much. Looks base I don't really see him caring too much.

Jo-

Hmm, someone who is okay with him being quiet. I know that's probably pretty obvious, but I know a lot of quiet people and they hate when people are always like “speak louder” or “I can't hear you”. So someone who doesn't do all that. Looks wise I feel like Jo would like someone more feminine. I also think he would want someone who is artistic like him so y'all could go on like pottery dates or go take an art class together.

Harua-

This one was a little hard for me honestly. It's not that I don't see him being interested in anyone, it's more so I just don't know what this dude would be into. Or if he even really has a type? I think he does value chill time so someone who also values that. He wants to be able to just hangout and do nothing. But he also values honesty so anyone who's honest. I think he just goes with whatever he's feeling tbh. So if he's into you he's into you, there's no set type with him unlike the others.

Taki-

Someone who is just as silly as him, I feel like he's drawn to people who have that bright accepting energy to them. But he also likes people who are slightly more mature than him. In a sense he wants to be taken care of, so someone who naturally takes on the nurturing role suits him best. He'll take care of them too, but he just screams wanting someone to take care of him. Like he just feels so loved when people essentially baby him. I think he might also like an older significant other.

Maki-

Someone who is super laid back and has a similar humor to him. Aesthetic wise I think he'd like someone who usually dresses like a bum in sweats and a hoodie but when special occasion comes around they bring out their best clothes and look like a fucking God/Goddess. I feel like Maki would really like a Bruh person ya know? He definitely also wants someone who's okay with getting out of their comfort zone a little. Obviously not if it pushes a boundary but a little bit is nice. Also why do I low-key see Maki getting with someone who's into the whole Tarot cards and crystals thing?

[yashley]