#process impurities
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bauliya · 5 months ago
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I must say it’s really very funny to me when people get up in arms about human hair extensions like some POOR INDIAN WOMAN WAS DUPED INTO GIVING HAIR TO A TEMPLE NOT KNOWING IT WOULD BE SOLD because invariably any “documentary” claiming such will immediately follow up with huge processing plants employing locals like lmao. are you sure it’s a secret. like are ya sure. and like. the entire ritual aspect of it is the purifying tonsuring and not what happens to the hair—if people don’t know its sold they assume it’s discarded. it’s probably the least unethical global market for biological human products it is (there are of course people being forced to tonsure their hair for humiliation purposes, and the inherent caste character of the practice) but by and large are not only these hair donations voluntary and devoid of any economic pressures but people travel great distances on their on dime to have their hair shorn. like we’re not stupid.
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creepyscritches · 3 months ago
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It looks like only the testosterone is affected by the benzene contamination. Each of those listed meds has a drop-down that explains reason for recall. Some were recalled due to package leaks while others have issues with their dosages. Benzene is not a reason for the majority of recalls in the list (thankfully!)
You should absolutely check your meds if they are listed, but this list is a collection of recalls separated by drug + recall justifications.
Strides Pharma is the manufacturer and issued a voluntary recall at the retail level on 3/5/25. You can read the pharmacy board's acknowledgement and documentation of the recall here. Currently there have been no reported adverse reactions, but there's no messing around here as benzene is a known human carcinogen!!!
FDA enforcement reports for both recalls:
And remember! Immediately stop taking any medication lots that have been recalled and contact your medical provider ASAP. They will get you set up with a replacement prescription and can provide any necessary supportive care in the case of contact with benzene.
hey americans there is a recall on testosterone gel because they found benzene in it! please check the lot numbers on your batches, benzene is really not something you want to be rubbing into your skin, also you might be eligible for compensation because this is just insane what the fuck
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oaresearchpaper · 4 months ago
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acurtist · 4 months ago
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Love? 🤔
To me it's not a secret garden. 😌
It's the wildest strokes of the wind, 🌬️
The loudest note of the music,🎙️
The most vibrant colors of the rainbow,🦚
The deepest aroma of the flowers, 🌷
The most delicious flavors of the spring. 🍬
Shameless, unapologetic, unmistakable; 🤭
Truthful, sincere, and impurities free. 😇
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sprenthecreator · 2 months ago
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IMPURITIES EP. 3 | The Poison
Male reader x Kazuha
word count: 11.8k
tags: teasing (a lot), brat zuha with daddy kink is always the best zuha
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Thank goodness the tour was over, and you hadn't died in the process.
To your surprise, all the girls behaved like civilized and responsible people during the remaining weeks. Even Kazuha, who sometimes took it upon herself to give you headaches, had stayed out of the way and hadn't caused any problems with her typical bratish behavior. Eunchae was almost never a thorn in your side; she was an angel 90% of the time. But you were still grateful that she hadn't let the other 10% win.
On the other hand, Chaewon had paid you occasional visits at night to sleep with you, without causing a fuss or being too annoying. Yunjin was very much in her element; she had spent all those days training her vocal skills and composing songs in her room. The one who was arguably giving you the hardest time was, ironically, the oldest of the five. Sakura wasn't lying when she said you'd won over a hungry Yokai, as she made you come to her room at least every other day so you could fuck her in every possible hole. Sometimes you weren't very willing, whether due to mental exhaustion or stress, but you preferred that to letting her become unbearable.
When you returned to Korea, the air was relieved knowing that everyone would be able to get a break. The next comeback cycle was approaching, but you would have two and a half weeks of vacation before then. Neither you nor the girls had travel plans during that time, so you were going to continue living together in the house for a while.
Because yes, you lived together in one house.
During the first year, it wasn't like that. They lived in their usual dorm, and you lived in your apartment ten minutes away. But starting at a certain point in 2023, when Antifragile had already been a global success, the company decided to invest in a big house on the outskirts of the city for the six of you to live there. The explanation had been that this would streamline the work process and cut logistics costs. Although you felt there were loopholes in that excuse.
The girls weren't entirely happy at first, and to be honest, neither were you. Just like you, they valued the privacy of a shared dormitory all to themselves, and by now living with you, they thought they'd be watched at all times. But luckily for them, you weren't a snitch or a weirdo. The solution you implemented was simple: the first floor for you, and the second for them. On your floor, you'd have everything you needed, and if you needed to go upstairs, you'd do so with full notice. That ended up convincing them.
A year later, complaints about daily living were few and far between. They argued more often with each other than they did with you. That wasn't your problem anymore, so you didn't interfere; you simply listened to the shouting from the comfort of your floor. Occasionally, you had to intervene from the stairs to get them to shut up, but generally speaking, you were comfortable living together.
Now, having to cook for five people was a real pain, but you were lucky that Yunjin loved cooking, and she often helped you when she wasn't busy with her own things. Waking them up was also a pain sometimes, since you couldn't get into their rooms using the traditional method. No, you had to blow up Chaewon's phone with calls, and often the idiot left it on vibrate, in which case you had to turn to Sakura to do the job.
But despite the problems, you could safely say that the best time of your life had begun thanks to that, and it had been the sowing of a harvest of memories of all kinds that you treasured in your heart. There was no way you would regret it. Not for a single second.
Even less so recently, when your relationship with three of the girls had taken on a completely new dimension that promised interesting things.
None of them had commented on it, but you knew what they were thinking. The tension was palpable. It was only a matter of time before you received something. Whether it was a visit to your room, a photo, a message, a glance. Anything. And you weren't crazy to think that: days ago, when you were still in the US, Chaewon had let you know that you would receive clues. That you shouldn't expect them to come directly and ask you explicitly and that you should also do your part. You didn't entirely know how you would do that, but in time your mind would open up.
That was another thing. You still weren't entirely sure how to feel about being... whatever you were to them now. It felt wrong. You certainly weren't a prude, and you were crazy about women—especially those women. But it didn't quite feel right. Maybe it was just a matter of time before you got used to it, and you honestly hoped so, because if you dared to waste this opportunity life had handed you on a silver platter, you'd never forgive yourself.
Still, it was a situation that had to be handled with caution, because it was extremely easy for it to spiral out of control. Whether it was due to unrespected boundaries or worse: unintentionally generated feelings. You were very careful about that, of course. But you couldn't control how any of the girls felt, and that made you anxious.
Chaewon was the one you were most careful with, because to be honest, you felt a lot of chemistry with her. A little too much, maybe. And consequently, your treatment of her was... slightly different. Not too different to avoid raising suspicions, but you cut short every little intimate moment you two had after fucking with the classic excuse that you had work to do.
Although if you thought about it, you'd already let her sleep with you more than once during the tour, and a couple of times you weren't even intimate...
You were going to play dumb, yeah.
Yunjin had been the first to desecrate—as far as you knew—the roof you lived under, just a day after you'd settled back there after arriving in Korea. It happened at night, when, after she'd showered and while the other girls were sleeping, she caught you watching Breaking Bad at two in the morning in the living room, wrapped in only a stupidly short towel that barely covered anything.
Aside from that, neither Chaewon nor Sakura made a move. But not for any specific reason; most likely they just didn't feel like it. They continued to behave normally.
But Kazuha was acting strange.
Spending so much time with her over the past year helped you notice the unusual patterns of behavior. Something didn't add up. Mostly, it was small details that led you to think that. Ways of greeting you in the morning, discreet glances for no apparent reason, sudden mood swings when you interacted with her, and even leaving out of nowhere while you were all chatting together. As if being around you made her nervous.
She knew something, you were sure.
They were girls, and they spent a lot of time together, so surely one of the three had told her about their experiences with you. Everything pointed to Sakura, since she was the one she spent the most time with during those days. That was dangerous. If Chaewon or Yunjin had told her, you knew they would have been subtle about it, not sharing too much information or details. But Kura was a different breed. That girl didn't mince words, and you feared she'd have given Kazuha a wealth of details about what you and her were up to. That included how you fucked, where, when, and you were sure she'd even given her details about how big your...
Yeah, bad business. Not only because she knew, which was already a problem. But because you feared retaliation.
Kazuha might have seemed like a chill, carefree girl, with a typical joking attitude. But behind that innocent mask, you knew she was hiding a malevolent being with a meticulous way of acting. She was just the kind of woman who could tell you the best joke in the world and two hours later sell you out to some drug cartel in exchange for an Overwatch skin. A somewhat exaggerated analogy, but one that fit perfectly with her deceitful nature.
Time soon proved you right.
That day you woke up early in the morning, as usual. Sunlight was beginning to bathe the interior patio, forcing you to open your eyes since it was right in front of you behind the glass wall. After rubbing your eyes and gathering your willpower, you got up from the sofa bed you were sleeping on and walked, with the cold wooden floor beneath your feet, to the bathroom to brush your face and brush your teeth.
After finishing your basic personal hygiene routine, you left the bathroom and turned up the air conditioning since you were freezing. Then you walked to the other side of the house. In the kitchen, you went to the far right of the counter behind the island and turned on the espresso machine to let it warm up. While waiting, you sat in a chair at the dining table to quickly check your email and social media once you were sure you didn't have anything important to do.
That time of day was your favorite. Peaceful. Silent. With nothing but the distant sound of birds perching in the nearby trees. In your profession, those moments were to be cherished for how rare they were, and you let absolutely nothing disturb you during them. Not while any of the brats...
Movement to your left, just at the bottom of the stairs.
"Good morning, manager-nim," Zuha said, passing behind you to go to the refrigerator. You followed her with your eyes, your brow furrowed in confusion but also in disbelief. She was wearing only a white T-shirt that barely covered her bottom, and she was barefoot.
"What the hell are you doing up at this hour, Nakamura?" was the first thing that escaped your mouth. "Especially you."
"What time is it?" Zuha asked, her hand on the refrigerator handle. You weren't surprised at how beautiful she still looked without makeup and just waking up.
"7 in the morning."
"Oh, my biological clock must have gotten messed up," she shrugged and opened the refrigerator door, disappearing behind it. Seconds later, she closed it, a small carton of strawberry milk in her other hand. "You don't mind a little morning company, do you?"
Your gaze fell as Kazuha leaned against the refrigerator and put one leg in front of the other, pressing her thighs together and barely revealing her crotch. You quickly looked away.
"I don't care," you admitted, shaking your head. You looked back down at your phone, but a few seconds later, you looked back at her. "Are you just going to stand there or what?"
"Does it bother you?"
You inhaled a deep breath and let it out with your eyes closed.
"No, Kazuha, it doesn't bother me."
"Great."
The ten minutes you usually let the espresso machine heat up had already passed, so you stood up and went to check if it was ready. Once you confirmed it, the next step was to grind the coffee beans, but you kept them in a cupboard right above the refrigerator. You made a move to get it, but Kazuha was in the way.
"Oh, do you need anything?" Zuha asked, sipping the strawberry milk carton through the straw.
"Yes, the coffee beans," you pointed. "Please move aside."
"I'll get it for you! Hold this for a second."
Zuha held the small carton against your chest for you to take and looked up at the cupboard, then stood on her tiptoes, raising her arms, and, consequently, pushing her shirt up enough so you could clearly see her ass and cheeky black panties.
"These here?" Zuha asked, taking the bag. She didn't seem to notice you were staring at her beautiful rear end, and if she did, she didn't care in the least.
"Uh... yeah."
Zuha took them and stood back on her heels. She then took the milk carton from you and handed you the coffee beans. Her expression indicated that she was completely pretending that what happened a second ago hadn't happened. The air inside the house was cold, it was impossible for her not to have noticed.
It was foul play, and at your distinct disadvantage, since you couldn't do the same.
"Thanks," you simply said, and tried to focus on your damn espresso, which was all you'd wanted since you woke up.
As you ground approximately 15 grams of coffee, Zuha disappeared from your peripheral vision. You heard her take steps behind you, and all you heard were her sipping on the straw. It was the typical moment when a lion played dumb seconds before snapping its jaws at its prey.
After grinding the coffee, you picked up the portafilter, washed it, and dried it thoroughly with a dry cloth before adding the ground coffee. Then you picked up the tamper and applied gentle pressure to level the coffee inside the filter. Finally, you prepared to slide the portafilter into the machine.
"Manager-nim, why is Chaewonie sleeping with you lately?" Zuha asked from behind you.
The question caught you off guard, and since your brain wasn't prepared to handle both tasks at the same time, you dropped the portafilter, creating a mess of ground coffee on the counter and the floor beneath your feet.
"Fucking shit!" you cursed, slamming the counter so hard that the side of your fist ached.
"Oh my god! I'm sorry!" Zuha said. Her shock didn't seem to be faked.
"It’s okay, it wasn't your fault."
Yes, it was. But you weren't going to tell her that.
With your teeth clenched in anger, you went to the left, toward the small utility room where you kept the cleaning supplies.
"Let me help you!" Zuha said, hopping off the counter she was sitting on just as you turned the doorknob.
Zuha reached you, and with her back to you, squeezed into the narrow space between you and the door. As she did so, she deliberately pushed her hips back and rubbed her ass against your bulge to enter the room. You froze, staring into space as she grabbed a dustpan and broom.
"Zuha, you don't need to..."
"Bullshit!" Zuha interrupted you, repeating the same process, only this time she stood still for a moment while her ass pressed against your bulge. She looked at you over her shoulder. "Let me help you, grump!"
Zuha stepped away and went to sweep up the coffee grounds you'd dropped, leaving you in a state of horniness that you suppressed as much as possible. But she played another damn trick. For some reason, she found it necessary to bend over to pick up who knows what damn thing from the floor, consequently giving you a glimpse of her panties, specifically, her slit from behind. She stayed in that position for a few seconds, making sure you saw as much of her cameltoe as possible before standing up.
"Nakamura, what the fuck are you doing?" you asked, feeling your cock harden beneath your boxers. You hid it with your left fist, gripping your forearm with your other hand.
"Huh?" Zuha turned to you, wiping the counter with a kitchen towel. "Helping you. Can't you see or what?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Then I have no idea what you're talking about, manager-nim," Zuha shook her head, shrugging.
Damn brat. Why the hell was she doing that? It was now certain that she knew everything. But why tease you like that? Was she resentful in some way? Or did she just like to play with her prey like cats do? It could very well have been a mix of both, which made it twice as terrifying since you didn't know how far she was going to take it before actually dropping the bombshell.
A damn mouse being stalked by a snake. Great.
"Forget it," you sighed, and went to help her with the mess you'd made because of her.
About five minutes later, the floor and counter were as clean as ever. Kazuha carried the broom and dustpan back to the utility room and came back with you as you repeated the same process with the coffee beans, her lower back resting on the edge of the counter to your left. Her gaze was attentive to everything you did, like a curious cat.
"Are you going to learn how to make espresso for the girls or what?" you asked as you started the extraction.
"No, it's just fun to watch," Zuha replied. "It's... relaxing."
"Sure," you nodded, looking up at her as you dusted off your hands. "Are you going to tell me the real reason you got up at this hour, or will you keep me guessing all day?"
"I already told you: my biological clock must have been messed up. I don't know."
You chuckled.
"If I hadn't known you for three years, maybe I'd believe you, Nakamura."
"Are you calling me a liar?" Kazuha raised her eyebrows.
"Yes."
"That's very rude of you, manager-nim," she crossed her arms and pouted. "But I think you're being a bit hypocritical."
"Oh yeah? And why?"
"Remember when I asked you in Chicago why Chaewonie hadn't woken up in her bed, and you told me it was because she had plans with Kura that night?" Zuha pushed back from the counter and faced you, staring into your eyes. "Guess what? Kura-chan said Chaewonie never went to her room that night. Who lied to me?"
Shit. She'd put you between a rock and a hard place. Kura was a damn snitch.
"She must have been playing a trick on you or something," you replied. "I'm pretty sure I saw them together that night."
"Hypocrite," Zuha snapped.
"I'm not lying to you, Nakamura."
"You are," Zuha took a step forward without taking her eyes off you, entering your personal bubble. "And the more you do it, the deeper you dig your own grave."
"Kazuha, I swear I don't know what you're talking about. She was..."
"You're fucking her too, manager-nim?" Zuha blurted out, leaving you hanging. "I know you did it with Sakura. She told me everything. So..." she closed the distance between your bodies, pressing hers against your side and her thigh against your crotch. Her shirt lifted again, and you caught a glimpse of her left buttock. "Are you going to tell me the truth, or are you going to make this more complicated for yourself?"
It took a tremendous amount of willpower not to touch her, as her toned body felt way too good against yours. Her hot breath against your neck didn't help either.
"So what if I did?" you asked, trying your best not to look at her as Kazuha rubbed her thigh between your legs. "Are you going to tell PD Nim everything or something?"
"No way. I'm not a snitch," Zuha retorted. "Come on, stop being a damn liar and speak."
As much as you wanted to, her damn thigh was being a severe distraction, keeping your thoughts from organizing. Kazuha knew it, and that's why, apart from her thigh, she reached down to grab your already hard cock and gently squeezed it to short-circuit you.
"Did the cat eat her tongue, manager-nim?" Zuha murmured near your ear, tightening her fingers around the outline of your cock through your sweatpants.
"Shit," you gasped, closing your eyes as you pressed your lips together. "Nakamura, stop playing..."
"I'm not playing," Zuha retorted, reaching inside your sweatpants and boxers for your cock. "You wish I was playing."
How easy it would be to lose your temper, grab her by the waist, and fuck her from behind against one of those countertops. For God's sake, you were going to go crazy.
"Yes, Nakamura, I fucked Chaewon," you managed to say, but very quietly as Kazuha massaged your cock beneath her fingers.
"Excuse me?" Zuha brought her ear to your mouth, then pulled your cock out of your sweatpants and masturbated you with her five fingers at a pace that felt too good. "I don't think I heard you quite right."
You brought your hands to your head and let it fall back, feeling all your sanity drain from your body. The situation reminded you of when Chaewon and Yunjin forced information out of you at the hotel pool in New York. Same damn helplessness.
"You're a damn..." you trailed off as she moved her wrist faster.
"What did you say?" Zuha tilted her head, and before continuing her handjob, she spat a decent amount of saliva into her hand.
"F-for God's sake! Fine! I fucked Chaewon!" you finally managed to spit out loud and clear enough for her to hear.
Kazuha then stopped abruptly. Something inside you told you that you should have expected that given how everything had played out, but you still groaned in frustration. She quickly took a couple of steps back, knowing that in the midst of desperation you could try something.
"Good to know, then," was all she said, her lips curled into a damned smirk at having gotten her way. "I think I'll go back to bed, manager-nim. Sleep hit me again."
"You fucking..."
"I'll see you later!" Kazuha said, and upon reaching the other side of the kitchen island, she turned her back to you and took off her shirt, revealing her magnificent, perfect ass and completely bare back as she walked toward the stairs, her T-shirt crumpled in a line that covered her small tits.
When Zuha came back up, she left you there alone, cock out and horny as hell. You had no choice but to finish the job she'd started, using the saliva she'd left on your shaft to do it.
And well, it was the best jerk-off of your life. Why deny it?
After cumming and cleaning up the embarrassing mess you'd made, you finally settled down to drink your damn espresso, with the damned uncertainty of not knowing what the hell Kazuha wanted from you. She'd already gotten what she wanted, and you suspected it was nothing more than a green light to act without any qualms. A position that only harmed you, of course.
For the next two days, you and her didn't talk much, but that was exactly what she wanted, since she knew your attention was going to be on her anyway. Kazuha wandered around the house, usually without pants or wearing clothes that were too tight and without a bra. Like any intelligent person, you tried not to pay too much attention to her, but she had her ways of making sure you always saw her, like walking right past you while you were using your laptop or bending over in ways that forced you to lift your head.
It was a damn torment you weren't sure how long you could endure, and that Kazuha could prolong as long as she wanted until you were begging for pussy. Maybe that was what she wanted after all: for you to lose all dignity and get on your knees before her and act like a pathetic, desperate dog. You were better than that, luckily.
That day was Friday night. Chaewon, Kura, and Eunchae had recently gone out to dinner, and it was just Yunjin, who was locked in her room, you, and Kazuha, whom you hadn't heard from all day. In Chaewon's words, she was spending the whole day to herself, and they had decided to leave her alone and not bother her.
Which meant you were certain no one was going to bother you. By the time you lay down on your sofa bed, you'd already eaten dinner and taken a shower, and were snuggled up under your blanket, reading a book with ambient noise in your AirPods to help you focus.
A while passed, and you were completely immersed in your reading, already feeling relaxed and ready to sleep in a couple of hours.
Until you felt a couple of taps on your right shoulder that nearly made your heart leap out of your body. The shock was such that your book fell into your lap.
"...Sorry!" was what you managed to hear. Taking out your AirPods, you looked over your shoulder to find Kazuha standing behind you, dressed in a tight black tracksuit consisting of tiny shorts and a sports bra under which she was wearing nothing. She was all sweaty, her hair tied in a high bun. It was probably the hottest thing she had ever looked.
"This better be important, Nakamura," you gasped, feeling like your heart was going to jump out of your chest from how fast it was beating.
"Did I scare you that much?"
You didn't even respond, just stared at her, lips set in a line and eyes expressionless.
"Okay, okay, sorry. Well, I came to ask for your help with something."
Kazuha was breathing a little ragged; she'd probably just finished training a little while ago.
"I was going to sleep in a bit."
"It'll be quick! I promise!" She clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture. "I just need you to help me with my stretches."
You let out a deep breath. This wasn't going to end well for you, you were sure of it. It was the perfect excuse for her to tease you even more. The option of refusing was growing stronger inside you, but fuck... what a damn sexy body. Tight in every corner and glistening with sweat. It wasn't fair at all.
"Okay, Nakamura," you nodded with a sigh, swishing your feet off the couch to slide them into your Crocs. "But hurry up. I'm already sleepy."
"Hai!" Zuha nodded, and ran to find a yoga mat she'd left nearby to spread it out in the space between the carpet and the glass wall that led to the inner patio. "Just stand behind me, okay?"
"Behind... you?" You wrinkled your brow, taking hesitant steps to stand on the mat with her.
Kazuha was the one who turned around so her back was to you. Your gaze inevitably dropped to her ass, and then quickly back to her when she looked over her shoulder at you.
"Hey, focus," Zuha chided you.
You raised your hands and shrugged.
Zuha looked straight ahead again, and took a couple of small steps back to be as close to you as possible, her ass rubbing against your crotch. Then, she opened her feet to the sides and bent fully forward to plant her hands against the mat, stretching her back. But it also gave you a prime view of that beautiful ass you were tempted to grab.
"Put your hand on the center of my back and push down, manager-nim," Zuha said. "I hope you don't mind the sweat."
You didn't mind in the slightest. Not when it came to her. To be completely honest, you could perfectly well lick every drop without objection.
Carefully, you placed the palm of your hand above Kazuha's lower waist and pressed down. Kazuha let out a low, almost inaudible moan and proceeded to stretch out on both sides, touching her toes with her fingers. A couple of seconds later, she straightened and turned around. You were so close that her body heat spread to you.
"Hold still," Kazuha said, taking a couple of steps back before bending forward again, this time keeping her back in a straight line before holding onto your waist. Her face was dangerously close to your bulge. "Do the same to my back."
You weren't sure it was necessary; she seemed to be doing all the work herself. But you didn't hesitate, placing your hand in the same position as a moment ago to apply gentle pressure. Kazuha groaned again, and you were petrified when she craned her neck slightly and pressed the tip of her nose against your bulge.
"Nakamura..." you said under your breath, but she didn't seem to hear you.
Kazuha craned her neck a little further and pressed her mouth against it before standing up again, an amused look on her face.
"Are you finished?" you asked with a glimmer of hope, feeling yourself starting to get hard.
"Almost there," Zuha replied, turning her back to you again to kneel on the mat. "Come on, behind me. Above my heels."
You sighed and obeyed, kneeling with her heels below your crotch, which was essentially rubbing against her ass. Kazuha must have sensed how hard you were, because you managed to catch a hint of a smile on her face.
"You'll do the same to my back," Zuha said, before bending her upper torso down, arms stretched out in front of her, head between them. Her ass looked delicious again under your eyes, round and firm as it was raised. Besides, the tiny shorts made part of her asscheeks peek out. If only you could pull those damn shorts down and...
With your eyes closed so as not to lose control, you placed your hand where Kazuha indicated. But this time, just to treat yourself, you pushed your hips forward a little and pressed your hard bulge fully against her ass. Kazuha moaned under her breath as she discreetly pressed her ass against you as well. She wasn't even stretching properly anymore; she only cared about whatever you were doing at the moment.
"Wah," she sighed, finally sitting back on her heels a few seconds later. "That feels so good."
"Are we done?" you asked, looking away with your hands in your lap. You had no idea why you were covering your boner if you'd already made her feel it on purpose, but you did it anyway.
"No, but all that's missing are my legs," Zuha replied. "And that's the most important thing."
"Of course it is," you said, tired.
Kazuha gestured for you to move to the side. As you did, she lay back on the mat facing you, her arms tucked into her body and her legs together. Then, she brought up a bent leg and grabbed the top of her calf to press it against her torso.
"You know what to do, right?" Kazuha asked, peeking out from behind her knee to look at you.
"You're assuming I know more than I actually do," you replied, kneeling beside her.
"Just press my thigh as far toward me as you can. It's easy."
"What if I hurt you?"
"You're not going to hurt me, silly. Come here."
You could have done that perfectly well from where you were, but Kazuha patted the opposite thigh. She wanted you to sit there, probably because it was the closest your crotches could be to each other. A meticulously malevolent being, you weren't wrong about that.
Cursing under your breath, you went and straddled her where she'd said, pressing her thigh toward her body with both of your hands. Aside from the cold sweat, her flesh felt firm beneath your fingers, the product of years and years of her ballerina training and now her workouts.
"Mmm, I think there might be a better angle for this," Kazuha murmured, and writhed beneath you to lower her position, consequently pressing your crotches together. Only then did you realize her pussy was poking through the fabric of her shorts, and your painfully hard bulge was rubbing against it.
"Fuck, Nakamura," you gasped, your fingers circling the back of her thigh. "Is this really necessary?"
"You agreed to help me, didn't you?" Zuha asked, glancing at your privates rubbing against each other.
"Yes, but..."
"Then don't complain. Now for the other leg."
You let go of her thigh so she could stretch out her leg and you could straddle her. She then brought her other leg up, and you held her thigh towards her body. The torturous process was the same. Now your cock was throbbing, and you didn't know where to look to hide your embarrassment.
"Having fun, huh?" Zuha ventured, and you knew what she meant without even looking at her.
"I think we have different concepts of what having fun is, Nakamura," you replied.
"You're wrong. It's the same for both of us. You're just more closed-minded about it than I am."
You chuckled. What a damn nerve she had, saying that.
Before you could respond, Kazuha lifted her hips and deliberately began grinding against your bulge. She even made you release her thigh so she could get better range of motion. Her crotch then began massaging your cock up and down, making you gasp.
"This is your concept of fun?" you asked, looking into her eyes.
"I don't know... you like it?" Zuha tilted her head and looked down at your bulge. She bit her lip. "No, you definitely like it. That's a silly question."
It was about to happen, you were sure of it. There was no way out. And since there wasn't, you finally dared to take a step forward.
Somewhat hesitantly, you placed your hand on Zuha's toned abdomen, then slowly lowered it until your thumb was touching her pussy. Zuha smiled, biting the tip of her tongue, and moaned when you circled near what you knew was her clit.
But just when you thought she was reaching out to return the favor, she put her hand on your abdomen and pushed you back with unexpected force. You fell onto your ass as she pulled away.
"You've got to be kidding me..." you said through gritted teeth, feeling the anger grow up within you.
"Thank you for your help, manager-nim," Zuha said, standing up. Her mischievous smile made your blood boil. "I know you must be very sleepy, so I'll let you go to bed."
"You're fucking despicable," you said as she picked up the mat, pulling it out from under you.
"And what are you gonna do about it?" Zuha raised her eyebrows, rolling up the mat. You didn't respond. "Yeah, I thought so."
Zuha then tucked the rolled-up mat under her arm and blew you a kiss before heading back the way she came, leaving you once again with a painful boner under your shorts and horny as hell. You cursed under your breath. It was partly your damn fault, for not having the balls to take charge of the situation. But what could you do? It was just common sense, since your position didn't give you the freedom to do whatever you wanted. Caution, you called it.
But your reasons for caution were running out, as was your patience. It was clear she wanted you to do something, and she wouldn't be like the other three girls, who would make their wishes clear from the start. No, Zuha wanted you to take the initiative, and she was poking you with a stick like a sleeping animal, just to see how long you could hold out until you swallowed your pride and gave in to your anger.
You had already swallowed your pride when you touched her a few moments ago. Now it only remained to see how much further your patience threshold could extend until you exploded, and that wouldn't be far.
That night you slept bitterly, not even wanting to masturbate to appease how horny you were. You would save yourself for her, for when the time came.
The next day passed peacefully. The girls had arrived from dinner in the early hours; you knew this since they woke you from your sleep just to notify you. They slept until 2 p.m., and later everyone—except for Eunchae, who went to visit her parents—was getting ready downstairs to party.
"Kim Chaewon, don't you dare turn off your phone," you warned, walking beside her as you escorted them out. Sakura, Yunjin, and Kazuha went ahead. "Keep me up to date as much as you can. I get anxious when you all go out."
Chaewon stopped and took your hand, careful not to let the others notice. That made you look at her.
"I promise to keep you updated, sweetheart," she said softly, taking a step toward you that immediately made you nervous. Her eyes landed on yours. "Stop worrying so much and trust me."
All the anxiety and worries subsided with that. A strange sense of relief washed over you through her sweet tone of voice and sparkling eyes. Hell fucking no. If you started having feelings for that girl, you were screwed.
But instead of drawing a line and making your position clear, you squeezed her hand in gratitude and gave her a small smirk. It felt good to do so, so you didn't regret it. At least not yet.
"Fine, sorry," you nodded, letting go of her hand. "What time are you planning on coming back?"
"Around 2 am," Chaewon replied. "Depends on how quickly we get in. I don't think it'll be long."
"Take care, then."
Chaewon glanced quickly at the girls, and when she confirmed they weren't looking, she stood on her tiptoes to give you a small kiss on the cheek before joining the others. The spot where her kiss fell felt warm, and now you had the emotional tide against you for not having been quick enough to avoid it.
You quickly said goodbye to the girls and followed them with your eyes as they left the house. But Zuha stopped suddenly and looked at them with a hand on her stomach and a furrowed forehead. On pure instinct, you took a couple of steps forward, worried.
"Huh? What's wrong?" Kura asked.
"Cramps," Kazuha replied, slouching slightly. "I think I need to go to the bathroom."
"Oh, we'll wait for you then."
"No, no," Zuha shook her head, putting one foot back inside the house. "I know this won't stop for a while. Go without me."
"Are you sure? You've been saying all day you needed a drink."
"I'd rather have my stomach healthy than a drink."
Kura pouted.
"As you wish," Kura took her hand in a rather motherly manner. "I'll call you later to check on you, okay?" Then she looked at you. "Manager-nim, make her some chamomile tea, will you?"
"Sure," you nodded.
Kazuha hugged the girls goodbye and closed the door herself. You stood there in the hall, waiting for her to turn to you.
"Do you need anything else?" you asked her as she walked toward you with a pained expression. "I'll make you the chamomile right away."
"I'm fine," Zuha replied, passing by you. "I just need that and rest. Thank you."
Zuha hurried up the stairs to the second floor, and you went straight to the kitchen to prepare her chamomile. Minutes later, the water was boiling, ready to put the sachet in. You would leave it for about ten minutes to let the flavor settle. While you waited, you decided to text her.
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The minutes passed, and there was no response from her. You didn't find it strange; she was probably feeling really bad and had her phone away. It was best not to pressure her.
When enough time had passed, you took out the chamomile sachet and threw it in the trash. Then, you went to the fridge to find a lemon and cut it in half, to add a small splash of juice to your tea. Finally, you poured the tea into a porcelain cup and added sugar, not too much so as not to overpower the chamomile and lemon. The smell made you want to take a sip yourself.
You were about to take the cup to her when you received a message. It was her, and you almost slipped on the first few steps. There was a damn tap-to-see photo.
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If you had dropped your jaw any further, you probably would have opened a hole in the floor. The photo was of her in a hot, skimpy lingerie set that you couldn't figure out how she managed to put on so quickly. It consisted mostly of interconnecting black velvet straps that ran all over her naked body, forming a triangle above her navel, from which two straps branched off on either side to connect with those that ran down to the sky-blue lace bows she had around each thigh, while the third went up to connect with the straps that circled the outline of her small tits to form a choker around her neck. The panties also consisted solely of straps, which highlighted her beautiful, perfectly shaved pussy. The icing on the cake were the lace details here and there: under her breasts, on her shoulders, the bows that encircled her thighs, and a small piece between the square formed by the straps over her pussy.
Very hot, yes. The boner had been instant. But you were overlooking something very important: that damn slut had fooled you all.
You hurriedly left the cup of chamomile tea in the kitchen and then ran to the second floor. Up there, you moved with long, impetuous strides, breathing like a rabid bull. When you reached the room Kazuha and Chaewon shared, you flung open the door and entered like an unstoppable force of nature, slamming it shut. The mythomaniac princess was on her own bed, face down, her back to the door. From there, the view of her naked ass was perfect.
Hearing you enter, Kazuha looked over her shoulder at you. She raised her calves to cross her feet and block your view of her pussy.
"I'm so fucking tired of you," you said, taking slow steps toward the bed.
"Yeah, but does this lingerie look cute  on me or nah?" Zuha asked.
That was it. You couldn't take it anymore.
Almost without thinking, you took off the sweater you were wearing and threw it on the floor, striding toward the bed. Kazuha rolled over and positioned herself on her back, just in time for you to pounce on her and crash your lips against hers.
Kazuha moaned as she received your kiss, immediately wrapping her arms around your neck and her strong legs around your torso. She arched her back, pressing your bodies together and giving you the space to slide your hands underneath. You ran your hands up and down her back, feeling every muscle beneath your fingertips. Then you moved down to her thighs, pressed on either side of your waist, squeezing and rubbing them with the palms of your hands, careful not to damage the lace of the bows.
"Mmm, you took a while," Kazuha moaned against your lips, and reached between your bodies to grasp your cock through your sweatpants and knead it. She quickly got you hard. "You even made me use my last weapon."
"Last weapon? You've been running away from me all these damn days, what the fuck did you expect me to do?" You snapped, as Kazuha pulled down your sweatpants and boxers a little, freeing your hard cock.
"Have I really been running away, manager-nim?" Zuha asked between kisses. Her fingers wrapped around your shaft, rubbing it slowly. "Or is it that you just didn't have the balls to tame me this whole time?"
Oh, so that's where it was going, huh? Good.
"You're a fucking insufferable slut," you murmured, testing the waters.
"Mmm, yes," Zuha moaned, and moved her hand faster on your cock. "Tell me that again."
"I said two things. Which one? You're more of one than the other."
"Oh come on, stop playing around, manager-nim," Zuha gasped. She really wanted you to repeat it.
"You wish I was playing around, Nakamura."
You pulled away from Kazuha's lips and went straight down to her small breasts. Kazuha inevitably had to let go of your cock to place her hands between your neck and jaw, moaning as you took one of her nipples into your mouth and licked it with the tip of your tongue. There you sucked until her mound was covered in saliva, then moved on to the next. And after attending to each breast, you decided to indulge in a kissing spree all over Kazuha's upper body: collarbone, shoulders, arms, and finally her abdomen.
Kazuha gently gripped your hair as you ran your tongue down her stomach and placed wet kisses around her navel, your hands resting on her thighs. From there, you moved down to her lower abdomen, and then to the point where the straps and lace blocked the path to her pubis. You had to lower your body further to be between her legs, but not to eat her pussy, that would have been what she wanted. Instead, you opened her legs and took them behind her knees to kiss the inside of her thighs, teasing her with a touch of her pussy but always staying mere millimeters away.
"Is this fucking revenge or what?" Zuha asked with a whimper, still even though you didn't have her so tightly in her grasp. She was right where she wanted to be. "Do you think I don't deserve to have my pussy eaten?"
"No. You don't deserve it," you replied flatly, happy just to kiss and feel her soft skin and firm muscles against your lips.
"I only got you horny twice!" she protested, as if it was nothing. "You could have done something about it, but you didn't have the balls."
"You better shut up, walking microwave," you warned, standing up to remove your sweatpants and boxers. "Don't make this any harder for yourself."
"Or what? You'll just stand there and watch me have my way again?" Zuha chuckled, but the smile faded when you spat on your cock and took the tip into her pussy. "Oh wait! Fuck!" she moaned.
Her pussy was as tight as you imagined, but it didn't take much effort to fill her stifling walls with every inch of your shaft. It felt so stupidly heavenly that you rolled your eyes with a moan.
"You've been playing with yourself today, huh?" you asked, your hands pressing her thighs back, noticing how easily your cock slid in and out of her.
"Maybe," Zuha managed to reply between soft moans. She brought a finger to her mouth and nibbled on the tip as she watched you slowly fuck her.
"You knew your plan would work out perfectly, and you prepared for when I couldn't hold it in anymore. Fucking slut."
Without realizing it you'd repeated the word, and it quickly sank into Kazuha's body. She arched her back a few inches off the mattress and placed her hand between her breasts, sliding it down her abdomen to her pussy, rubbing circles over her clit. But you were quick to grab her wrist and pull it away, bringing both hands above her head to pin them to the mattress.
"I didn't say you could do that, did I?" You raised your eyebrows, looking down at her since her face was right under yours.
At that moment, a spark seemed to ignite in Kazuha's eyes, which softened and lost the arrogance of a few minutes ago.
"You're right, daddy," Zuha purred. "You never said I could touch myself."
Well, great. Not only was it enough for Chaewon to use that little word with you, but now Kazuha would also join the club. You weren't going to complain tho. It was simpler and more fun to accept the role with open arms.
"That's a good girl," you gasped, and with both hands holding her wrists against the bed, you began to fuck her like you'd been wanting to do all these days. Hard, and rough. Above all, rough. Seeking to release all that pent-up frustration she had sown in you.
Zuha's moans began to flow freely through the room, in perfect harmony with the sound of your gradually faster thrusts. She kept her legs wide open for you, and offered no resistance to your grip on her wrists in a show of pure submission. Too bad you didn't have handcuffs handy.
Zuha begged for a kiss with her gaze, which jumped from your eyes to your lips. To please her, you flexed your arms and lowered your body, meeting her cute, parted lips. The angle now forced you to move your hips slower, but at the same time, you were hitting spots in her pussy you hadn't previously reached, causing her to stifle whimpers against your lips.
"Yes daddy," Zuha moaned. "I fucking love that, keep it up please!"
Zuha pursed her lips, closed her eyes, and arched her back, her tits now brushing against your chest. She was close to her orgasm; you could tell by the way she made a show of closing her thighs around your torso and by the way her moans faded to give way to heavy gasps. You would have allowed it with Chaewon, but you weren't going to be so forgiving with her after she'd made your life miserable for so many days. So just when she thought she was about to cum, you released her wrists and pulled out of her.
"Daddy, no!" Zuha protested. Her eyes filled with tears. "No, please! Let me cu-"
Her protests fell short of nothing when you knelt to her left, grabbed the back of her neck, and guided your cock into her mouth. Kazuha took it with a whimper, but hollowed her cheeks as she pumped her head and sucked on your cock.
"I decide when you can cum," you said, brushing her hair behind her ears and then tying it back into a ponytail with your left hand. "Is that clear?"
Zuha looked up at you as she pumped halfway into your cock and nodded. You let her do the work at first, just to give your lower body a rest, and she was doing an excellent job with her mouth and tongue. She took you out for short periods of time to lick your tip and kiss your shaft all over, trying to please you enough to soften you up. It almost worked. But before she could continue, you made her stop so you could take control and fuck her mouth.
"Be a good girl and take all that cock for daddy," you panted as you pushed a few more inches into her mouth. It didn't fit all of it: you soon ran into the natural barrier that made her gag. But it was more than enough. "Oh fuck yes."
With one hand in Zuha's makeshift ponytail and the other on the right side of her neck, you began pumping your hips back and forth at a steady pace, getting faster as the seconds ticked by. You could tell Zuha wasn't used to that sort of thing, but she was enjoying it despite her gag reflex triggering over and over again and making a mess of her own saliva.
Soon your thrusts became aggressive and frantic, causing the pool of saliva building up inside Zuha's mouth to soak your cock and spill in thick drops onto her small tits. Zuha didn't bother asking for a break, whether out of pride or to show you she was a good girl. Either way, you gave her a hard time when you pushed her head down onto the base of your cock. She gripped your thighs out of inertia, closing her eyes as you nuzzled your tip into her throat. A few seconds later, you were forced to pull out when Zuha started coughing.
"Now it's not so fun leaving me hanging, huh?" you asked, letting go of her hair and neck. Zuha's head fell and bounced against the mattress as she coughed.
"If I hadn't, you wouldn't be like this right now," Zuha gasped, coughing again. Then she grabbed your cock and moved her hand over it slowly, not caring that it would get drenched in the thick layer of saliva covering your shaft. "It's perfect."
You pulled out of her and went back between her legs to lie on your stomach, wrap your arms around her thighs, and finally plant your mouth on her pussy. Zuha arched her back and sighed in relief, as if she'd been wanting it for a long time—which she probably had. The case wasn't much different for you: tasting that delicious meat dish went straight to your deepest fantasies, repressed by what you thought was the harsh reality of never being able to achieve it. But now you couldn't be anything but grateful for the twists of fate, because her folds were so soft and delicious that in a normal situation it would have taken an entire construction crew to pry you away.
"I thought I didn't deserve you eating my pussy," Zuha said, stroking your hair.
"Let's just say you've done enough to earn it," you replied, and proceeded to go up to her clit.
"Also to cum?" she asked, but you didn't respond.
Following the canons established by your past fantasies about her, you ate her pussy as if it were the last chance you'd ever have. A little over a minute passed when, in the same characteristic pattern, Zuha was about to cum. You continued as if you knew nothing, with a relentless emphasis on her clit. You took her to the very limit.
Close...
Close...
Until you rose up to leave her pussy and let her orgasm hang.
"Oh my god, no!" Zuha whimpered, desperately trying to grab you and return you to her pussy, but you slipped away. "Please daddy, no!"
"I said you deserved me to eat your pussy," you said, grabbing her left leg behind the knee to push it back and insert two fingers into her pussy. Zuha whimpered. "I never said anything about cumming."
"And how do you expect me not to cum if you do that?" Zuha asked, as you began pumping your fingers in and out of her.
"That's your problem, not mine."
"But-!" Zuha bit out a protest as your fingers sped up. She had to take a moment to gather her words. "But daddy, I'm so close! I can't hold it!"
"Yes you can, and you'll be able to," you threatened, your left hand fingers digging into the back of her thigh. Your fingers were fucking her wet pussy fast. "So don't you fucking dare cum until I tell you to."
"But I want to cum!" Zuha whimpered, her hands clutching the sheet. Tears pooled in her eyes again, and one trickled down her cheek. "Please!!"
"Stop whining like a brat and hold it!" you snorted.
Another tear or two trickled down Zuha's cheeks as she looked everywhere but down. She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her screams, and bit down on that same hand when it balled into a fist. Her breathing, on the other hand, showed how desperate she was, as her chest rose and fell like a bellows about to burst. It was admirable, to be honest. In her position, you wouldn't have lasted two seconds.
"Please!!" Zuha insisted, now truly crying because of the way her lower lip trembled.
"A little more..." you said under your breath, staring at her. Your wrist was starting to tire. "Hold on... Now cum, slut."
Zuha exploded with such force that she tore the sheets off their edges and let out a scream so loud you were sure it could have been heard on the street at that time of night. Her violent orgasm was accompanied by a pleasant surprise: an intense jet of squirt that you let out freely as you pulled your fingers out of her, soaking her buttocks, the sheets, and part of your knee.
"What a good girl," you praised her, watching her thighs tremble. "You made a whole damn mess tho."
Zuha looked at you with tear-filled eyes, arms open at her sides. She hadn't bothered to wipe her cheeks. Her buttocks and thighs were soaked with drops of squirt.
"Keep fucking me, daddy, please," she said in a small voice, bringing two fingers to her pussy, rubbing them a few times between her folds, and then bringing them to her mouth to suck on her own fluids. "I can handle it like the good girl I am."
"Let's put that to the test then. Turn around."
Zuha rolled over and onto her stomach. Her sweet spot, that firm, round ass, was now entirely at your disposal. You placed your hands underneath her and made her raise her hips. She got the message and spread her knees to the sides, lifted her ass, and arched her back, leaving only her chest and hands against the mattress. It was the perfect backshot position, and the damn lingerie still intact only made it much better.
Without wasting time, you grabbed your cock and drove it into her pussy, in a single smooth motion that made you both moan in unison. Her pussy walls embraced your cock from all directions, squeezing it hard and warming her up. Zuha, with her head resting on her crossed arms, looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with you. Then you, with your hands on her waist, began to fuck her.
Going slow at first was something you did on purpose, mainly to feel every possible texture of her pussy in detail, but also to admire the view of her perfect raised ass with a cock constantly disappearing between her butt cheeks. But that soon became insufficient for you. So you made a sudden change of gear.
"Mmmgh, does my pussy feel good when you fuck it like that, daddy?" Zuha whimpered, now being pounded and jolted by your thrusts.
"It must feel better for you, right?" you asked through gritted teeth, and you slapped her left butt cheek before squeezing it. "This is what you've been wanting for days."
"Oh, you have no idea," Zuha replied with a sigh. "I haven't been able to stop imagining how well that cock could fill me up ever since Kura-chan told me everything."
"That damn snitch," you grumbled.
"Thanks to that damn snitch, you're fucking me hard from behind like a whore, don't forget that. Mmmgh!!"
You gripped her waist with your fingers tightly gripped and your pelvis collided with her ass with hard slaps. Zuha opened her arms from under her head and extended them to the sides, elbows bent, to crumple the sheets between her fingers. She understood that she no longer had any restrictions on cumming, and she did so after a few brief seconds.
But you felt in perfect shape to continue, nowhere near cumming even though your engine was revving at full power and she looked that hot. 
Zuha squealed in despair as you continued your thrusts through her orgasm. Now you had one hand on her bare, muscular back, and seconds later you reached up to grab a handful of her long, black hair and pull her head back. She came again after a few seconds, and the spasms forced her to drop her hips back onto the mattress. Your cock inevitably slipped out of her pussy.
"Do you need a break?" you asked, slipping out of character a little since she looked exhausted.
"I appreciate your concern, but no," Zuha replied, bringing her legs together so her buttocks squeezed against each other. "I said I could take it. So don't be so kind to me, daddy."
"Well, if you insist..."
You straddled her thighs and guided your cock between her buttocks, rubbing it between them before returning to her pussy. As you went back inside her, you leaned forward to lie flat on top of her, grabbing her chin to turn her head and kiss her. Zuha moaned against your lips as you fucked her with slow, deep strokes.
After kissing her for some long seconds, you braced your hands against the mattress and lifted yourself up to move harder, thrusting up and down. Zuha dropped her head and let the right side of her face rest against the mattress.
"Oh, daddy, you're filling me up so good," Zuha moaned, glancing at you. She reached out and found a pillow to hold onto. "I can't wait to feel all that hot, sticky load inside me..."
"Can you stand up?" you asked between gasps. "There's a particular way I'd like to do it."
"I think I know what you mean," Zuha nodded. "Let's do whatever you want, daddy."
You immediately pulled off her and helped her stand up off the bed. Her wobbly legs made you hesitate about whether it was a good idea or not, but she didn't seem close to giving in to them. And instead of complaining, Zuha did her iconic Antifragile leg lift as soon as you stood between the beds, only instead of lowering it back again, she rested it against your left shoulder and let her calf fall behind your back.
"Oh... my... god," you said to yourself, amazed not only by Zuha's flexibility, but also by the stamina she had in her support leg and how hot her pussy looked.
"Is this what you had in mind, daddy?" Zuha asked, one hand on your chest and the other resting against the wall for balance.
"Oh, that's perfect," you nodded, placing your hand on her thigh to rub up and down while the other rubbed her abs. "Are you sure you can hold yourself like this?"
"I can," she agreed. "But you'd better hurry or my legs might give out on me."
Without needing to say anything else, you grabbed your cock and guided it back inside her. The sensation was completely different now: it was tighter inside her, much tighter. It was like putting your cock between two damn hydraulic presses that threatened to crush it. And god, it felt fucking delicious. If you thought your climax was still far off before, you had to reconsider that now, because as soon as you started fucking her in that position, your body entered a state of ecstasy you'd rarely felt in your life, as if all your blood was flowing faster to give you a surge of energy.
For Zuha it felt just as good, or at least that's how it seemed from the way she moaned louder than she had a moment ago and dug her natural nails into your abdomen. Her legs didn't seem close to giving way, but it got really tough for her when she came again, and her supporting leg wobbled. You held onto the leg she had draped over you as tightly as you could, keeping her from falling to the floor. In the process the lace bow on her thigh loosened, but the straps were intact.
Zuha's solution was as simple as it was perfect: she sacrificed the balance the wall gave her to press herself against her own leg and clung to your neck with her arms, so that her head was next to her knee and your faces were inches from each other. Of course, you kissed her, concentrating entirely on how good her pussy felt amidst such hard, fast thrusts.
After a moment, you entered the downward spiral. One thrust after another against that tight pussy with every inch of your shaft, Zuha's moans against your lips, your bodies now sweaty. It all resulted in the most mind-melting and electrifying orgasm you'd experienced to date.
"Oh my fucking god!" you moaned, shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum into that tight Japanese ballerina pussy.
"Oh daddy that feels so good," Zuha sighed, letting her head fall back. Her fingers gripped the back of your neck. "Actually I think I'm going to... Mmmgh!!"
Zuha went through her own sensual orgasm as you emptied your balls inside her and felt her muscles and pussy contract. You kissed her long, luscious neck, still moaning to yourself until your climax subsided. Then you stayed like that for a while, balls deep inside her and holding her close to catch your breath.
"You came a lot, daddy..." Zuha whispered in your ear. "You've been saving yourself for me, haven't you? That's adorable..."
"I'd rather not answer, Nakamura," you replied, placing more kisses on her neck and jawline. "All I know is that you're so fucking hot."
Zuha pulled you in for another kiss, this time slower and more passionate, and gave you a gentle push back to ease you out of her. You both looked down to see your cum spilling onto the carpeted floor beneath your feet.
"You know this floor is a fucking pain to clean, right?" you asked.
"It's not like you clean it regularly," Zuha retorted.
"And neither do you."
"Yeah anyway," Zuha looked up and met your gaze. "Will you sleep with me for a while, daddy?"
"Just a little while," you nodded. "Do you want me to help you take all that stuff off?"
"Oh yeah, please," she sighed. "Putting it on was a pain in the ass."
"No surprise there."
Zuha pulled away from you and sat on the edge of her bed. You helped her remove the entire piece of lingerie, being careful not to pinch her with the straps. It wasn't until Zuha was completely naked that she lay down on the bed, facing the wall, with her back to you. And as soon as you lay down next to her, she pushed her ass back to be your little spoon. The mattress didn't have a sheet, as she'd pulled it out from the edges while you were fucking her, and it was all wrinkled in one corner, so you could snuggle up comfortably to close your eyes.
But you couldn't afford to get too comfortable and sleep too much. Zuha still had a lie to maintain, and if Chaewon caught you there, it was going to be a huge mess for her. So you never really got to sleep.
After a couple of hours, you woke Zuha up, and together you set about making the bed and cleaning as much as you could. By the time the girls returned, everything was in perfect natural order: Zuha asleep in her bed in comfy clothes, and you lying on your couch.
No one ever suspected a thing.
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cryptotheism · 2 months ago
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Where did the idea of a philosopher's stone that could turn metals into gold come from? I know a few things about alchemical theories of matter, the idea that metals are combinations of various properties/constituents (hot/cold/dry/moist, sophic sulfur/mercury) and that you could transmute them by changing the balance of these properties makes sense to me. And I've seen your metaphor about alchemists wanting to unbake a cake and rebake it differently. But I don't get where the stone comes in.
Great question!
The Philosophers stone is the key ingredient in Chrysopoea, gold-making. Throw some gold into a boiling pot of philosophers stone, the whole pot turns into gold.
Every recipie for the production of a philosophers stone seems to conceptualize it differently. The process is generally broken down into three or four stages, each of which has several steps.
I'm not a chemist, but from what I've read, the alchemists were probably distilling impure sources of mercury and sulphur, and produing some form of synthetic cinnabar. Which was then melted down, and used to make cinnabar-gold alloys that have the properties and appearance of gold. To people without the technology to understand the debasing of metals, this process would resemble making gold from scratch.
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read-marx-and-lenin · 8 months ago
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There is no magic "abolish the state" button, which is why I'm an anarchist, as "when the state has socialismed enough it will just magically poof away in a cloud of smoke" is the leninist position.
That is not the Leninist position, the Leninist position is and always has been that the state cannot disappear until the material conditions for its disappearance are achieved. The withering away of the state, first outlined by Engels, is not a magic process but one that proceeds from the abolition of class and the dissolution of the bourgeoisie.
How are you going to get rid of the bourgeoisie without a state? Are you going to simply ask them nicely to leave you alone? If you are organized and if your organization is suppressing the bourgeoisie as a class, then you have created a state, you have created an authoritarian imposition on the free organization of some section of the people. If you are not doing any of this, then the bourgeoisie who you have left unmolested will invariably come to dominate you once more.
Anarchists have always played word games to get around these simple facts. There are the practical anarchists who will admit to some amount of authority, but always with the caveat that theirs is *just* authority, *necessary* authority, and that is is the *unjust* authority that they condemn. Just authority is not the State, because the State is unjust, and so if they see an authority as just then it cannot be the State. Fair enough, you can call things by whatever names you like, but if you put these ideas in practice you basically end up with Leninism. You want to create dual power? You want to abolish the bourgeois state and replace it with a democratic organ of the working class? Well so did Lenin, and now you know why the Mensheviks accused him of anarchism.
Then there are the quite impractical capital-A Anarchists, who are adamant that anarchy means anarchy and that even voluntary hierarchy and submission to democratic authority is impermissible. Whether pacifistic or militaristic, they are generally unremarkable and ineffective at their goals because they eschew most effective forms of organization as ideologically impure. Even the most advanced anarchists, the CNT in Spain and the Maknovists in Russia, were plagued by economic confusion and disorganization. Their lack of discipline led to their downfall.
If you want to read more, here are some pertinent links:
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jellyfishsthings · 1 month ago
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Spa Days
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navigation , dc navigation
WARNINGS: none really, just funny banter
requests are open
dividers by @cafekitsune
inspired from this fic by @yeoniverseee
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Jason Todd, the brooding, gun-toting vigilante known as the Red Hood, isn't exactly the first person you'd picture slathered in a cucumber face mask. Yet, here we are, face-deep in a concoction of avocado and honey, with a fluffy pink headband perched precariously on his dark hair. This is your spa day, a rare moment of domestic bliss carved out from the chaos of Gotham, and honestly, it's been surprisingly…relaxing.
"Seriously? This is what you're doing?" Jason grumbled, his voice echoing in the vast cavern. He surveyed the scene with narrowed eyes: a blanket spread on the floor, laden with an arsenal of brightly colored nail polishes, facemasks that looked suspiciously like something Frankenstein's monster would wear, fluffy headbands, and a bowl of steaming water infused with essential oils that smelled suspiciously like lavender.
Jason scoffed. "De-stressing involves firing rounds at targets, not... whatever this is."
"Humor me," You pleaded, employing my best puppy-dog eyes. Jason, despite his gruff exterior, had a soft spot for those. After a moment of internal debate that was visible in the tic in his jaw, he sighed. "Fine. But if anyone sees this, you're dead."
Your relationship, a clandestine affair built on stolen moments and whispered promises, is often a tightrope walk between my civilian life and his dangerous world. Dates usually involve rooftop picnics offering a breathtaking view of the city, or quiet nights in his surprisingly cozy (and heavily fortified) apartment. But today, you decided we needed something lighter, something…normal. You'd envisioned a day dedicated to pampering, a chance to unwind and reconnect amidst the constant pressure of his double life.
First came the headbands. Wrestling one onto Jason’s stubborn, perpetually tousled hair was a feat in itself, but eventually, you managed to secure the fuzzy pink band. He looked, to put it kindly, ridiculous. You snorted with laughter, earning a glare that could curdle milk.
Next, the nail polish. You convinced him to let me paint just one finger, arguing that it was "research" to see which color best suited his… unique personality. He chose a matte black, which, honestly, wasn’t surprising. You opted for a vibrant turquoise, and you painstakingly applied layer after layer, trying to avoid getting it all over your fingers. Jason quickly realized that painting nails was far more difficult than disarming a bomb. The frustration was palpable.
"This is a waste of time," he muttered, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on his single, gothic-chic fingernail.
"Relax," You chirped, gently buffing away a smudge on his pinky. "Enjoy the process. Embrace the… manicure."
Then came the facemasks. This was where things truly devolved into chaos. You had chosen a particularly gooey, green clay mask, promising it would "draw out impurities" and leave your skin "glowing." The application was messy, to say the least. Jason smeared the mask with the grace of a toddler finger-painting, getting it in his hair, on his clothes, and even managing to flick some onto the Batmobile.
You both looked like swamp monsters, but you couldn’t help but laugh. Jason, however, was not amused.
"This is the dumbest thing I've ever done," he declared, his voice muffled by the drying clay. "You know, I've faced down Scarecrow hopped up on Fear Toxin, and this is still the most terrifying thing I've done all week."
You giggled, gently smoothing the mask around his jawline. "Oh, relax, Jay. It's supposed to be soothing. Besides, you look…kinda cute."
He grumbled something unintelligible, but you saw the corners of his lips twitch. Progress. The whole process started with a bit of reluctant participation. You'd lured him in with the promise of quality time and the persuasive argument that a little self-care was essential, even for hardened vigilantes. I’d prepped everything beforehand. Soft, fluffy towels, essential oils diffusing lavender and chamomile, and a meticulously curated selection of face masks, nail polishes, and bath bombs.
The atmosphere was surprisingly comfortable. We talked, not about the gritty realities of Gotham’s underbelly, but about mundane things: favorite movies, childhood memories, even his surprisingly discerning taste in music. For a few precious hours, you were just two people enjoying each other’s company, a welcome respite from the ever-present threat looming over our lives.
That's when disaster struck.
It started with a knock. A hesitant, almost sheepish knock that I immediately recognized.
"That'll be Tim and Damian," Jason sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What do they want?"
You shrugged. "Probably just checking in. Don't worry, I'll handle it."
You opened the door to find Tim Drake, the ever-logical Red Robin, and Damian Wayne, the fiercely competitive Robin, standing awkwardly on the doorstep. The scene that greeted them was, you imagine, rather unexpected. Two figures covered in green goo, one sporting a pink headband and a single black fingernail, surrounded by an array of brightly colored beauty products.
Tim's jaw dropped. Damian, on the other hand, simply raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
"What," Damian said, his voice dripping with disdain, "is the meaning of this… unspeakable horror?"
Jason, seizing the opportunity, immediately threw me under the bus. "It's all her fault!" he exclaimed, gesturing wildly in my direction with his goo-covered hands. "She forced me into this ridiculous charade!"
"Uh…we were just…wondering if everything was alright?" Tim stammered, his voice betraying his surprise. "We saw the light on and…well…"
Before you could formulate a coherent explanation, Jason emerged from the living room, face mask still firmly in place. The sight of the Red Hood, notorious for his lethal methods, looking like a pampered spa enthusiast was clearly too much for them to process.
Tim’s jaw dropped. Damian, however, simply raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Todd," Damian said, his voice laced with thinly veiled mockery. "What exactly is going on here?"
Jason, never one to back down from a challenge, crossed his arms, a defiant glint in his eyes. "It's a spa day. What's it to you?"
"A spa day?" Tim repeated, his voice cracking slightly. "You? Really?"
"Yeah, really," Jason retorted. "Got a problem with that, Replacement?"
The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You could see this quickly escalating into a full-blown argument, complete with hurled insults and possibly even a few Batarangs. You decided to intervene.
"Guys, chill out," You said, stepping between them. "It's just a little relaxation. Why don't you come in? We've got plenty of face masks to go around."
Tim, recovering from his initial shock, started to chuckle. "Are those… facemasks?" he asked, gesturing to your green faces.
"Indeed," Damian replied, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "It appears our elder brother has succumbed to the allure of… self-care."
"Don't even start," Jason growled, but a faint smile played on his lips.
You expected resistance, perhaps even outright refusal. But to your surprise, Tim and Damian exchanged a hesitant glance. The allure of pampered relaxation, it seemed, was stronger than sibling rivalry.
And then, the unthinkable happened.
"Actually," Tim said, his voice thoughtful, "I could use a facial. All-nighters take a toll on your skin."
Damian, ever the competitive one, wasn't about to be outdone. "If Drake is participating in this… frivolous activity, then I shall as well. One must maintain a flawless complexion, even while fighting crime."
Suddenly, Operation Spa Day expanded.
Convincing Tim and Damian to participate was surprisingly easy. Getting them to relax, however, was another story. Damian insisted on analyzing the ingredients of the facemask for potential toxins, while Tim meticulously researched the benefits of each nail polish color. Jason, surprisingly, seemed to be enjoying himself, albeit in a begrudging sort of way.
You ended up painting Damian's nails a subtle, sophisticated grey, while Tim opted for a bright, almost neon green. Jason, emboldened by the presence of his brothers, demanded you paint his other nails black as well.
Of course, your newfound zen was short-lived. As you were rinsing off your facemasks, a deep voice boomed from the shadows.
"What," Batman said, his voice laced with disbelief, "is going on here?"
The sight that greeted him was even more absurd than what Tim and Damian had stumbled upon. Four figures, faces still slightly green, sporting various shades of nail polish, surrounded by a chaotic mess of beauty products.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just stared at you, his cowl casting his face in shadow. Then, a very faint, almost imperceptible twitch appeared at the corner of his lips.
“Did you… paint your nails?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Jason, never one to miss an opportunity, grinned. “Yeah, Batsy. You’re next.”
Batman simply shook his head, a mixture of exasperation and amusement in his eyes. He surveyed the scene one last time, then turned and walked away, muttering something about needing a stronger cup of coffee.
You all exchanged glances, then burst out laughing. Even Damian, surprisingly, cracked a small smile.
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writeriguess · 4 months ago
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Hey there, can I please request the following, pleeeease, thank yoooou
You go camping with the Bakusquad and decide to take a walk through the woods and go skinny dipping in a lake. But you don’t notice Katsuki finding you and spying on you for a bit. Eventually you hear him and after an awkward moment you ask him if he wants to join you. Smex ensues and later maybe you and the squad drink a bit near the bonfire, Katsuki gets drunk and professes his love to you (Publicly or privately)
Deep Waters
The night air was thick with heat, the scent of pine and firewood lingering as you waded deeper into the lake. The water licked at your skin, cool against the warmth still lingering from the bonfire. You sighed, rolling your shoulders, reveling in the solitude—until the sound of a twig snapping behind you shattered the illusion.
You whipped around. Crimson eyes burned from the treeline.
"Katsuki?"
He stood there, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, the firelight from the camp casting shadows over his chiseled chest. His jaw was tense, his eyes dark—predatory. He wasn’t even trying to hide the way his gaze roamed over your body, barely concealed beneath the water.
“You sneaking off for a midnight swim?” His voice was rough, like he had already been thinking impure thoughts.
You smirked, tilting your head. “Didn’t take you for a voyeur, Bakugou.”
His eye twitched. “Tch. Shut up.” But he didn’t move, didn’t look away, didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t staring at you like he wanted to devour you whole.
Feeling bold, you let your hands glide over the water, purposefully dragging them down your body. “You gonna keep standing there, or are you gonna join me?”
His jaw clenched. A moment of hesitation—then he moved.
He tore his sweatpants off, didn’t even bother with his boxers. The sight of his thick, heavy cock springing free sent a shiver down your spine. You barely had time to process it before he was striding toward you, wading through the water with purpose.
The moment he was within reach, he grabbed you—hard. One hand on your waist, the other threading into your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat. His breath was hot against your skin.
“You have no fuckin’ idea what you just started,” he growled.
His mouth crashed onto yours, rough and hungry. Tongue pushing past your lips, hands gripping you everywhere. You moaned into the kiss, and that was all the invitation he needed.
Suddenly, he was lifting you, carrying you through the water like you weighed nothing. Your back met the rough wooden planks of the old pier, water dripping down your bare skin as he spread your legs apart.
“Katsuki—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he rasped. “Gonna make you scream my fuckin’ name.”
His hands slid up your thighs, pushing them wider, exposing your soaked cunt to the cool night air. A low, filthy groan rumbled from his chest as he stared at you, fully bare beneath him.
“You’re fuckin’ dripping,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then he smirked, dangerous and dark. “Is this all for me?”
You whined, hips bucking slightly, desperate for his touch. “Yes,” you breathed. “All for you.”
That was all he needed.
He dove in—mouth sealing over your clit, sucking hard as his tongue flicked and lapped at you like a man starved.
Your back arched off the pier. “F-Fuck—Katsuki!”
He growled against you, sending vibrations straight through your core. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises as he ate you like it was his last fucking meal. He was messy, spit mixing with your slick, his tongue delving deep, fucking into you before sliding back up to your swollen clit.
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
“K-Katsuki—gonna—fuck, I’m—”
His rough moan vibrated against your cunt as he sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking over it in relentless, punishing strokes. The coil in your stomach snapped.
Your scream echoed through the forest as you came hard, thighs trembling around his head. He didn’t stop—not until you were whimpering, body twitching from the overstimulation.
Only then did he pull back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His lips were slick with you, his eyes blown wide with lust.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” he rasped, voice hoarse. Then his cock slapped against your slick entrance, hot and thick.
Your body jerked.
“Katsuki—”
“Not done with you yet.”
With one brutal thrust, he was inside you.
You cried out, legs locking around his waist as he filled you to the brim, stretching you in the most deliciously filthy way. His forehead dropped against yours, his breath ragged.
“Fucking tight,” he groaned. “You were made for me, weren’t ya?”
You nodded frantically, barely able to speak. “Yes—yes, fuck—”
Then he moved.
Hard, fast, brutal. Each thrust drove you further up the pier, the wood creaking beneath you. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, desperate circles as he pounded into you, the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the night.
“Mine,” he growled against your ear. “Mine. Say it.”
“Y-Yours!” you sobbed, nails raking down his back.
He snapped his hips harder.
“Who’s makin’ you feel this good?”
“You—fuck, you—”
His pace stuttered. His breath came in harsh pants, and you could tell he was close. He grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes on him.
“Come with me,” he ordered, ruthless.
His fingers pressed against your clit just right, and you came undone. Your walls clamped down hard, milking him as your body shook with pleasure. Katsuki cursed loudly, his grip bruising as he buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, filling you to the fucking brim.
For a moment, neither of you moved—just the sound of harsh breathing, the distant crackle of the bonfire in the background.
Then, slowly, he pulled out, watching as his cum dripped from your swollen cunt. He groaned at the sight, thumb swiping through it before pressing it back inside.
You whimpered, body twitching.
He smirked, leaning down to kiss you, softer this time. “Next time,” he murmured, dangerous and full of promise, “I’m fucking you against a tree.”
You shivered. “Deal.”
Now, as you two stumbled back toward the bonfire, your legs still weak from his merciless pace, you had half a mind to smack him for the cocky smirk stretching across his lips.
"Can't fuckin’ walk straight," he teased, voice husky from the sinful things he had growled against your skin earlier.
"Shut up," you grumbled, glaring at him—but it was hard to look intimidating when your body still ached deliciously from the way he'd wrecked you.
The others barely spared you a glance when you returned, too caught up in their drunken antics. Mina was dancing near the fire, Sero and Kirishima were locked in some stupid drinking contest, and Kaminari was trying (and failing) to flirt with a tree.
You plopped down onto a log, sighing, but Katsuki? He went straight for the booze.
And oh, he drank.
You knew Bakugou wasn’t much of a lightweight, but fuck, he was downing that whiskey like it was water. You had a feeling it had something to do with the fact that he had just fucked the life out of you and was trying not to stare at you like a feral beast all over again.
It didn’t take long for it to hit him.
At first, he was just louder than usual, barking at Kaminari, swearing at Sero, grumbling about how the whole group was full of dumbasses. You were used to it. But then—
"Tch. You guys don’t get it," he slurred, rubbing a hand down his face. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted, flushed from alcohol and lingering heat. "I don’t just like her, y’know?"
Your stomach dropped.
Oh no.
"Ohhh?" Mina perked up instantly, practically vibrating as she zeroed in on him. "Do tell, Blasty!"
Kirishima leaned forward. "Yeah, bro, what are you saying?"
Katsuki blinked blearily at them, then turned his heavy-lidded, drunken gaze to you.
Your breath caught.
"Love her," he mumbled.
Silence.
The fire crackled.
Then—
"HOLY SHIT!" Mina screamed, nearly falling off her log. "KATSUKI'S IN LOVE?!?!"
Kaminari started cackling, Kirishima's eyes widened, and Sero nearly spit out his drink.
You? You just stared.
Bakugou—drunk, completely unaware of the chaos he’d just caused— groaned and ran a hand through his hair, mumbling louder.
"F’course I fuckin’ love her," he grumbled, slurring as his body swayed. "She’s fuckin’ perfect. Fuckin’ mine."
You felt your heart slam against your ribs.
The group erupted.
"SHE’S YOUR WHAT?!?!" Mina shrieked.
"Bakubro, you good?" Kirishima laughed, eyes shining with amusement.
Katsuki just blinked at them like they were the idiots. "I just said—" he gestured vaguely toward you, voice getting quieter, more honest.
"...Fuckin’ love her."
Your chest tightened.
Something about the way he said it—unfiltered, raw, vulnerable—sent heat spreading through you.
Before you could even respond, though, Katsuki made a grumbling noise and swayed again. His eyes drooped, his head lolling forward—
And then, he collapsed.
Right into your lap.
"Oh my GOD," Mina screeched.
You choked on a laugh, staring down at him as he nuzzled into your thighs, breathing deep, slow, steady. His arms loosely wrapped around your waist, like his drunk ass had just passed out mid-confession.
The group lost their shit.
Kaminari was wheezing. Sero was crying. Mina was vibrating, kicking her feet. "THIS IS THE CUTEST FUCKING THING I'VE EVER SEEN!"
Meanwhile, you were trying to process the fact that Bakugou Katsuki—your asshole of a crush, the same man who had fucked you senseless against a pier an hour ago— had just confessed his love in front of EVERYONE… and then promptly passed out on your lap.
You sighed, running a hand through his soft, messy hair.
"...Dumbass," you murmured, but you couldn’t stop the smile curling at your lips.
He was gonna be so fucking embarrassed in the morning.
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venussaidso · 6 months ago
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Sun Dominant Themes — 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 (part 1) 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔
Understanding why planets exalt in certain nakshatras, and houses, will give you an even better foundation for all nakshatra lords. For example, Venus loves being in Revati because this is where it can be unrestricted and as flourishing in its themes as it desires to be, since Revati is peak freedom and transcendence; Ketu loves being in Jyestha because this Scorpio nakshatra continuously releases so much heat which allows Ketu to function at its highest level; and Sun is its best version when it is in Ashwini, because this Aries nakshatra allows the Sun to be as hyper-independent and selfish as it desires to be, and Ashwini being co-ruled by Ketu helps one attract resources to further advance oneself — a theme I am seeing in all the Sun nakshatras.
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The symbol of Krittika nakshatra is a sharp knife, and its deity is the fire god, Agni. This emphasizes the heat in Krittika which is connected to its transformative nature. This is seen in the refinement of blades, where the beginning stages involve forging – the process of heating and shaping of the metal – and then heat treating. Resources are used with precision in Krittika, anything unnecessary being cut away as resources are channelled with focus so that one rises to the top. The ruling deity of Uttara Phalguni nakshatra is Aryaman, the guardian of social contracts and hospitality. Aryaman is a solar deity, giving more emphasis to the life-giving heat and brightness of this Sun nakshatra. With Uttara Phalguni, resources are built and sustained through agreements, partnerships and community. Creating mutual connections and valuing generosity will lead to later pleasures, as this nakshatra is symbolized by the back legs of a cot and the word Uttara in Sanskrit can mean "latter," "subsequent," or "final." Uttara Ashada is ruled by the Vishwadevas, the universal gods, this indicating the superior, hyper-independence and highly resourceful nature of this nakshatra. This enables mastery in resource mobilization and strategic planning.
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Uttara Ashada Sun Orlando Bloom portrays the character Will Turner in Pirates of the Carribean, who starts out as an accomplished blacksmith by trade – his fantastic swordsmanship a product of his work with tangible resources like metal and tools, demonstrating his ability to make effective use of his environment.
The agency of the self and one's independence is due to the aftermath of the Ugra nakshatras having purged away impurities, propelling Sun nakshatras to focus on one's inner solar light to align with their material plane. This is interestingly explored in films through the so-called "American Dream".
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The "American Dream" refers to the belief that anyone, regardless of their socio-economic status and background, can achieve their dreams and make a better life for themselves in a society where upward mobility is accessible to all. The core ideals of this belief are explored in the film The Pursuit of Happyness, starring Uttara Phalguni Sun Will Smith who plays a struggling salesman rising from poverty to attaining professional success as a stockbroker — his character being driven by persistent effort, ambition, and belief in upward mobility.
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The theme of the human spirit's resilience in the pursuit of personal dreams is also seen in the film Forrest Gump, starring Uttara Phalguni ASC Tom Hanks who plays a low IQ man who goes through many challenges and still never gave up on his dreams.
Sun nakshatras are more commonly associated with strong themes of ambition, leadership and success.
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Aja Naomi King has Uttara Ashada Sun and Uttara Phalguni Moon, making her a dominant fire rashi native. She portrays the character Michaela Pratt in How To Get Away With Murder. She is a young woman who is an ambitious overachiever, possessing an intense fire in her and is relentless in chasing after her goals with focused determination.
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The character Paris Geller from Gilmore Girls, portrayed by Uttara Ashada Moon native Liza Weil, is known for her relentless ambition, being an aggressive perfectionist, and possessing a fear of failure which mirrors Michaela Pratt’s personality, often the cause of her clashing with others.
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Sun natives are able to sacrifice and delay gratification for their goals. The elephant tusk of Uttara Ashada represents enduring strength, the nakshatra also being in the first section of the Capricorn rashi (Saturn supporting themes of endurance and delays). Uttara Phalguni's symbol is a bed or hammock, which represents the rest after hard work and generosity, completing the journey from Purva Phalguni in this final stage. And Krittika being the blade, or razor, signifies it as a cutting force able to slice through obstacles, fuelled by a desire to execute excellence.
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Daniel Plainview in There Will Be Blood exemplifies the darker, more ruthless and capitalistic side of this "American Dream" — operating more Ketuvian as he is portrayed by Ashwini Moon native Daniel Day Lewis, drawing parallels with Ashwini Moon Christian Bale in American Psycho (further emphasizing why the Sun exalts in Ashwini, as Ashwini possesses this pure, ungovernable and all-consuming masculine energy which can become self-building).
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The book Oil! follows the son of an independent oilman who initially idolizes his father's rise to power which has a rags-to-riches quality to it. The book highlights the nefarious strategies that oilmen employ through the main character's sympathy towards the underdog people (oilfield workers), a solar theme which will support further points I'll be touching on. But this corruption of the self from accumulating so much intoxicating power is definitely the darker side of Sun nakshatras.
The character Plainview uses oil as a lucrative resource and leverages it to build his empire, also coming from humble beginnings. He embodies this 'self-made', hyper-independent archetype in which hard work highlights one's determination and ability to turn opportunities into wealth. But the writer of the film, and the author of the novel Oil!, shine light on the emptiness and loneliness of this accumulation.
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In the story, The Great Gatsby, the character Jay Gatsby initially comes from a poor background, and he meets a high-status woman who he falls in love with. She becomes one of the reasons for his drive, shaping his desire to escape poverty and become successful.
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Uttara Phalguni's ability to outwardly evolve to positions of power and have access to things which are symbolic of pleasure and luxury emphasizes the inward radiance and resilience they possess to overcome challenges.
There is a Solar archetype which possesses a type of independence and a resourcefulness that doesn't translate into dominance, but rather into strictly following one's own path of righteousness — remaining strong willed no matter the people one is surrounded by. And there is a level of generosity and duty to this archetype, as Surya, the Hindu Sun god, embodies Dharma (which is related to duty, righteousness and upholding truth).
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Will Turner fully embodies this archetype. Even when he's surrounded by pirates, and learns of his familial background of piracy, he stubbornly sticks to what he believes is right. His character has consistently been a strong moral compass in the franchise, upholding righteousness and truth — pointing to the higher leadership and moral integrity important in Uttara Ashada, as this nakshatra is ruled by the Vishwadevas, who are believed to reward those who follow moral principles and righteous paths.
Being burdened with so much duty, Surya (the Sun god) has to endure distant relationships with his close familial bonds. Will Turner mirrors this exactly, his duty as the Captain of the Flying Dutchman (a powerful evolution of his character as he initially started as a humble blacksmith) binds him to a duty higher than his mortal life. Because of this, he could only see his son and wife every once a decade, much like how Surya cannot be close to his sons and spouses.
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A lot of sacrifices that they endure include cutting away human attachments, although this archetype is moreso explored from the hyper-independent lens in Claire Nakti's Sun Dominant Men video, as they voluntarily become absent fathers/deadbeats from their inherent selfishness — very much opposing the ideals of many Sun gods, but a correct negative manifestation nonetheless.
All Sun gods support this solar archetype of justice, leadership and source of nourishment. Helio, in Greek mythology, personifies the Sun, bringing light to the world, also regarded as the god of sight. Surya is a source of vitality and justice. Ran, the Egyptian Sun god, serves as a great protector, encompassing intense sun rays which ward off evil.
Characters which embody this protective, superior force are often played by Ketu and Sun nakshatra natives (and as Ketu nakshatras are seen as dominant forces in nature, we see how Sun nakshatras adapt in isolation, and become dominant as well, using tools and resources to remain resilient). Claire Nakti already explored this with Mula's connection to Hercules, while I connect the nakshatra Uttara Ashada to characters such as Robin Hood & Tarzan. Just as the Sun gods symbolize a life-giving energy which keeps stability in the universe, George of the Jungle and Tarzan are characters who both protect the jungle and its inhabitants from poachers and other humans with bad intentions — their presence alone warding off evil. Both characters serve as guardians to ensure harmony in the jungle.
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The elephant tusk (of Uttara Ashada) often signifies, in many cultures, the protection of wildlife, especially from those who want to exploit and dominate nature. It also symbolizes a tool for survival, and it is associated with higher stature and power. This theme of one being the source of life and resources is seen in Robin Hood, a character which has Uttara Ashada influence. Robin Hood is known for safeguarding the well-being of his community, ensuring that their nourishment and dignity is preserved as he distributes wealth from the rich to the poor.
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The bridge between Purva Ashada and Uttara Ashada could be represented by the purpose of Sagittarius — the archer aiming straight for victory. Uttara Ashada can be the release of the arrow, the culmination of focus to execute the final victory, as its stars lie close and pointing to the Galactic Center (signifying the bullseye). Uttara Ashada carries the final stage of the archer's triumph, embodying this legacy after the swift release of the arrow.
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Much like Tarzan and George, Robin Hood lives in nature. Sun makes one completely self-sufficient, free from societal and religious roots which holds one back from finding their true essence. And the forest or woods represent a place one can explore their true selves and burn away what's false. The dominance of the Sun is seen in these characters' ability to comfortably live in such a place full of hidden threats like wild animals, bandits, or poachers. While for Ketu this theme signifies their huntress and taming power over the wild, for Sun it signifies their radical freedom and adaptability. Living in the forest, Robin Hood represents the figure of the outsider.
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In the 2011 film Red Riding Hood, the character Peter is a woodcutter who embodies the archetype of the lone wolf. He is portrayed by Krittika Moon & Uttara Ashada ASC native Shiloh Fernandez. He knows the forest very well, and is often associated with the pure, wild aspects of it. He is very much like George of the Jungle, in that his love interest is also played by a Magha native, which I found this Sun-Ketu association very interesting.
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His free nature and rough exterior (representative of his authenticity, making him a misfit in society) is what misleads the viewers into thinking that he is the werewolf that's been killing the townsfolk, but the truly animalistic and consuming force of the story is the character played by Ashwini Moon Billy Burke.
This lone wolf archetype supports their ability in being resourceful within their surroundings, often seen in survival stories in which the Solar native is stranded and is literally isolated from civilization.
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Blue Lagoon (1980) is a survival film about two children living on an island after a shipwreck. Krittika Moon Christopher Atkins plays Richard, who becomes deeply attuned to the rhythms of the island, learning how to make use of the natural resources for their survival.
In the film Mad Max: Fury Road, Uttara Phalguni Sun Tom Hardy embodies this lone wolf archetype through the character Max. The story has a hyper-patriarchal system which is built around the hoarding of resources and exploitation of others. Max is completely removed from this society, prioritizing his own survival and maintaining his autonomy above all else.
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His detachment makes him representative of someone who can solely rely on their resourcefulness and sharp instincts. This film is great as it stars two Phalguni natives; the character Furiosa being portrayed by likely Purva Phalguni ASC native Charlize Theron. Her warriorship is based around seeking a better future for the feminine, which is marked by love and autonomy.
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Furiosa, being Venus and an Ugra nakshatra, represents the fight for liberation and happiness, particularly on the freedom of Immortan Joe’s enslaved women, and her own freedom from such a restrictive society unfit for the feminine. The women's rejection of the patriarchy mirrors Max’s independence outside the system. Initially, he aligns with her merely out of necessity as she and the wives possess resources beneficial for his survival. But he treats them as equals, recognizing their autonomy and agency. Max's collaboration with them emphasizes Uttara Phalguni’s purpose of creating alliances and partnerships for higher purposes, supporting the journey that started from Purva Phalguni nakshatra.
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After aiding Furiosa, Max returns to his hyper-independent lifestyle; burning the attachments he formed with the women, and returning to his path that is away from the society.
This ability to survive by oneself, to reshape one's environment, mobilizing resources even in barren circumstances, is a theme for Sun nakshatras — further exaggerating this lone wolf, mysterious archetype (as seen with Max in Mad Max: Fury Road and Peter in Red Riding Hood).
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The Sun is the natural giver of light and energy, but it does not receive light in return. Solar natives, often being so self-sufficient, give to others but rarely lean on them for much support. The character Elliot Alderson from Mr. Robot is a hacker, his final achievement towards the end of the series making him a modern day Robin Hood. His mission to expose corruption and empower the oppressed is akin to the Sun being a source of illumination, Krittika especially being known to cut away illusion. He is played by Krittika Sun Rami Malek.
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Elliot remains emotionally isolated, as he has noticed that anyone who gets too close to him burns in the end — very similar to how the Sun god, Surya, burns and shines too brightly that his wife, Samjna, runs away from him. Elliot's solitary nature makes him feel extreme loneliness, but he maintains a distance from others, his hyper-independence stemming from his traumatic past and his mistrust of others.
There's a genre of film which explores the cause of such imbalanced independence, much like how Max's reason for burning attachments being due to trauma and previous lose. Christmas Carol movies often have Sun natives casted in them, portraying characters that possess a level of misanthropy and selfishness which drive them into further isolation.
The famous character, Ebenezer Scrooge, is a miserly, bitter, and cold-hearted old man who despises Christmas as it is associated with things of generosity and happiness. His name has literally become synonymous with selfishness, cynicism, greed and a lack of compassion. Ebenezer leads a solitary life, being estranged from family and detached from community due to his cold demeanour and focus on material gain. A Christmas Carol is a tale of Scrooge's redemption through three spirits, who highlight moments of lost joy, compassion, and the choices that led to his current misery and his future lonely funeral.
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After his epiphanies, thanks to the spirits who took him on a journey of rediscovery, his redemption is seen when he wakes up on Christmas morning being transformed into a generous, joyful person — helping the community and reconnecting with his family. His renewed sense of compassion from being such a mean, wicked old man could be interpreted as the Sun burning away negativity to rekindle the warmth and generosity that the Scrooge has repossessed within himself. This tale is retold in the 2008 Barbie in a Christmas Carol, in which the character Eden Starling is a glamourous singer who is extremely self-centered and arrogant. She does not believe in Christmas and even refuses her employees from celebrating it.
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She is voiced by Uttara Phalguni Sun and Uttara Ashada Moon native Morwenna Banks. Much like the timeless festive tale, three ghosts visit her on Christmas Eve, taking her on a journey through her Past, Present and Future. This leading her to have epiphanies regarding how much of her light had been dimmed and how lonely her future will be. These scrooge characters were once so brilliant and bright, but their inner light became eclipsed by bitterness, lose, or regret, leading to a life devoid of merriness — and being cold and frosty towards others.
Life’s challenges, such as betrayal, lose or disillusionment, leads these solar natives to retreat into isolation and despair. In the film Jingle Jangle, the character Jeronicus is a vibrant inventor, radiating so much brilliance and inspiring those around him.
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Though not as cruel as Scrooge was, his arc still mirrors the Christmas Carol tale, in that his light becomes renewed. His young and redeemed older self both embody the festive spirit and joy of Christmas, acting as conduits for the magic, wonder, and generosity for the season.
The transformative journeys of these solar characters also extend to the Grinch, from the 2000 film How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the character portrayed by Uttara Ashada Sun native Jim Carrey. The tale was originally created by Uttara Phalguni Moon native Dr Seuss, first published in 1955.
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The Grinch absolutely despises Christmas, much like Scrooge, being deeply consumed by resentment and envy while he isolates himself from the joyous Whoville community. His redemption is seen in him integrating himself into the community with newfound warmth, after experiencing an epiphany through a little girl’s unwavering joy and forgiveness. He returns the gifts he has stolen, realizing that Christmas is about love, not material possessions.
There are solar symbolisms in Christmas traditions, besides the gift-giving and festive feasting. These traditions can be traced back to ancient winter solstice celebrations, which made the symbolic rebirth of the sun, as the daylight hours began to increase after the winter solstice.
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In 2018's The Nutcracker and the Four Realms, the character Clara, portrayed by Krittika ASC Mackenzie Foy, experiences a journey which can be symbolic of the winter solstice. The story begins with Clara in a dark emotional space following the death of her mother, this darkness being much like the world descending into the longest night at the winter solstice. But Clara seeks the key to her mother’s gift, which signifies as a source of life, fertility, and illumination that unlocks potential — the gift quite literally being a golden egg. Clara and her companion must retrieve the key and restore harmony to the unstable magical land. This theme of restoration, new hope, and redemption in a lot of these scrooge films, is symbolic to the Sun’s rebirth during the solstice — the return of life.
The practice of illuminating the Christmas tree with lights and ornaments mirrors the Sun's return, symbolizing a brighter future with the coming year. The infectious joy and generous acts during this festive season reflect the gratitude for the life-sustaining force that the Sun is, and the light for new hope it represents, as it promises abundance for the year ahead. The twin deities of Ashwini nakshatra are associated with rejuvenation, new beginnings, and vitality; this resonates with solar qualities, further explaining why Sun feels naturally at home in Ashwini. The Ashwini Kumaras are divine healers who bring restoration and renewal, just as the Sun sustains all living beings with its energy.
The character Robin Hood, much like the Sun, is a symbol of hope for the downtrodden, fighting off the darkness of evil and corruption. He sustains the spirit of his people by redistributing wealth and restoring their faith in justice, consistently being a force of resistance. The Sun serves as a profound symbol of redemption, perfectly embodying the cycle of renewal and the promise of transformation on earth. Its daily rise eliminates darkness, rejuvenating life and reinstituting balance in nature after its lengthy absence. Sun illuminates the paths which signify growth, healing, and change. The very pure symbolism of the Sun makes it an enduring metaphor for hope, forgiveness, and the power to provide. Robin Hood's actions literally restore the imbalance, which was created by corruption and darkness, giving the poor a chance to continue building their lives. Robin Hood stands as a symbol of light against injustice, signifying a timeless reminder that even in the face of darkness, renewal and justice are always within reach. The character Elliot Alderson is also the perfect representation of this, for anyone who has watched Mr. Robot (the only series I'd happily recommend to anyone — it's very dark though).
Merry belated Christmas! 🎄
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yummyrevivalfluid · 15 days ago
Text
How To Rizz Up A Scientist
Chapter 4: Epididymal Hypertension
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Reader Chapter 1 here, Chapter 2 here, Chapter 3 here
Word Count: 2,314
Warnings: NSFW! Male Masturbation. Mentions of Cum...Edging? PervertSenku's internal monologue. Sexting/Nudes.
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He’s a mess, that much he knows. His chest is heaving as he kneels over the floor- his mind is reeling at the reality of his actions. There are drops of his cum-spurts of it, dirtying the sterile floors of the lab- taunting him.  
His body is trying to return to its homeostatic state. The sweat that clings to him in response to the heat that washed over him, his labored breathing in response to your touch.
His movements are slow as he distances himself from the mess he created. His back is slumped against the base of the counter, his head between his knees as you cloud his mind.
When he’s with you, he’s not ashamed of the part of himself that he’s been pushing down. You’re the only person who’s ever made him explore his sinful senses. You’ve ruined him for anyone else. You’ve ruined science in a way he never thought possible.
You were his sexual awakening.
You’ve caused him to lose his train of thought, derailing his rational thinking until the only thing left on the tracks is his obscure thoughts of you. He loves that about you, and he hates it. You put him in his place, reminding him of his body’s biology. He can’t fight the science behind it. He can’t fight the carnal desire that he’s been suppressing.
“You want to study at my place?” his voice is croaky, the tips of his ears burn a bright red as he lifts his head to catch your eyes.
He can see the cogs turning in your head, your lips fighting back the smirk forming on your face. He knows you understand what he wants from the playful side-eye you send his way.
“You’re not subtle, Senku.” An airy laugh follows your response, causing a rush of blood to Senku’s face.
It doesn’t make sense, it’s contradictory, he knows it. All the thoughts he’s had of you, all the things he did to the thought of you, and what he just did with you- they’re vulgar.
Impure.
Promiscuous
Perverse.
Yet when he hears the words come out of your mouth, it causes him to short-circuit, despite it being his suggestion—his idea.
Thinking it and hearing it come from your lips are two different things. Hearing it makes it real. It disrupts every system in his body, but he’s not embarrassed by it. Your words are a wake-up call to him- reminding him of his inexperience and exposing his vulnerability.
“You want to fuck.”
The words slip out of your mouth effortlessly. There is no hesitation and no signs of shame for your lack of filter.
It’s just nerves, the way his body reacts to your proximity. They’re sending signals to his brain, processing your movement, watching as you kneel before him—crawling between the space of his knees. It’s the release of hormones that allows you to do whatever you want with him; it’s the coding in his biological drive that he’s been suppressing for so long that urges and desires to be inside of you.
His heart is pounding as you inch closer to him. The palms of your hand resting on his shoulders as you press your chest against him. His eyes flutter at the feeling of your lips brushing against his.
“I wouldn’t mind studying at your place,”
His hands grip your waist, and he’s fighting back the urge to pull you out of this lab without a second thought. He wouldn’t care that he’d leave the lab a mess. It would make him a hypocrite, considering the numerous times he had reprimanded other students for not placing the equipment in the correct compartments or storing dirty equipment. He doesn’t care; the others would understand if they were in his shoes.
“But maybe next time.”
Your words snap him out of his dazed state. His eyes meet the sadistic look in yours.
“What, why?” The words come tumbling out of his mouth.
“You know why.” You retort. He can see the mood in your expression grow irritated. “Maybe I would’ve had time to fuck you, if you didn’t stand me up.”
“We can do it here.” The words spill out of his lips without a thought. His thoughts bounce around in his mind like molecules in a gaseous state. He’s not thinking about the meaning of your words, nor getting the hint that you wanted an apology.
“Nope.”
You pull away from Senku’s grasp, reminding him of the power imbalance between the two you. Senku is still slumped on the ground, looking up at you and your every move. Silently praying to whatever God that comes to mind, that you would be merciful and stop the pleasant but traitorous hormones coursing through his body.
“Think of this as your punishment.”
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Senku is burying himself in work, trying his hardest to forget about you, but science and you coexist in his mind. You’ve integrated and tainted science with your presence.
Even as he tries to work on a research paper, his mind always returns to you. It’s been hours since he saw you. Hours since you granted him the pleasure of your hand, and within the same hour, awarded him the worst case epididymal hypertension in medical history.
He doesn’t want to think about it anymore, so instead, he spends his time rapidly typing away, citing an article on polymers, until the sound of a notification pings and slides into the bottom corner of his screen, causing him to lose his train of thought.
It’s an email from Xeno.
 Just as he is about to open the email, curious if his mentor has any feedback on the work he sent him a while back, he receives another notification. He expects the notification to appear on his monitor, but it doesn’t. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices that his phone has lit up, providing another light source in the darkness of his room.
He doesn’t think much about it. Likely a notification from an app, so he ignores it.
He’s about to open and answer the email from Xeno when his phone pings again — and again. He sighs as he reaches for his phone and opens the notification.
‘New phone, who this?’
A message immediately followed by,
‘Just kidding! It’s me!’
The messages felt cryptic, confusing, and increasingly frustrating until he opened the third message—an image. It’s a poorly taken photo; the lighting was dim, the photo grainy and blurry, but even so, he could tell it was you. He could only make out a small portion of you, the top of your head and eyes. The angle at which you took the photo reminded him of when elderly people have the camera facing the wrong way.
He can’t stop the smile creeping onto his face.
‘How did you get my number?’
He sees the chat bubbles appear for a few seconds until a message appears, a string of them one after the other.
‘I bumped into your friend Taiju!
‘Told him I needed help with an assignment, and he gave me your number’
‘How’s your punishment going?'
His thumbs hover over the keyboard on his screen, and he doesn’t know how to respond.
‘Have you been thinking of me?’
Knowing you’ll feed into the bait, he quickly responds.
              ‘no’
Your response was instant, like you knew his answer before you even asked.
‘liar'
He watches the chat bubbles appear again and disappear. A minute passes before he sees them emerge again, followed by another string of messages.
‘help me’
It causes him to panic, thinking the worst, until he receives another message immediately afterward.
‘with my assignment’
He opens the image you sent him, ready to help. He expects a physics problem, maybe even a chemical mechanism, but it’s not. The picture you sent is enough for him to drop his phone, loudly banging against his desk before falling to the floor. He breathes heavily, his head tilted toward the ceiling, as his mind struggles to catch up to the image you sent.
You’re going to be the death of him. You are going to give him a heart attack from the number of times you cause his heart to beat irregularly.
His hand moves instinctively, acting on muscle memory and responding to the surge of hormones. His fingers are pulling the zipper of his trousers down. He reaches for his phone, the picture staring right back at him.
It’s not like the last photo you sent him. It wasn’t grainy or blurred. It was clear and focused. The lighting wasn’t as dim before; there’s more lighting, enough so he can see you.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize that this photo was catered to him. It’s as if you had access to his dreams. His heart races, his mouth dry as he engraves the image into his memory. The shy smile did little to hide the mischief in your eyes. It did little to soften the indecency.  
He doesn’t hold back, especially when you are wearing nothing but a lab coat, posed on your bed, holding the phone above your head. The way you posed was deliberate; the lab coat was unbuttoned and draped over your body, showing him the skin of your torso and the valley between your breasts. However, you were calculative- he knows it. You are only showing enough to fuel his imagination.
He doesn’t text back, even though he knows he should. He should tell you that you sent the wrong image, but he doesn’t. He wishes he could help you, but he’s too busy helping himself.
He’s stroking himself, his mind running vivid scenarios involving you and the damn lab coat. He’s imagining you bent over in the lab wearing his lab coat, so his name would be embroidered right above your chest.
He’s a degenerate, there was no denying it, jerking off in the middle of the night to your photo. Hunched over his desk in the dark, staring at his phone, slickness and breathy moans echo in his room.
His mind recalls moments with you, adding to the newly acquired information, forcing him to remember the sensation of you pressing against him, grinding your hips into him. The feeling of your skin being groped by his hands, the sensation of his fingers pushing into your thighs.
His memory is impeccable, he knows the sound of your breaths, gasps, and whines to heart. Then there’s the nerd side to him, mixed with the perverted side to him. Imagining things that no one has yet to imagine- a string of words- sentences that haven’t been uttered. He can almost hear you say, “Do you want to fill my orbital?”
He’s edging near the release, his strokes are sloppier, and his grip is weakening. He almost misses the sound of the notification, nearly lost under the chants and pants of your name.
‘Oops, wrong photo! Sorry <3 ’
He hears his phone going off again, and the banner of a new message appears on the top of his screen. He swipes it away. He can’t be bothered to look at the homework assignment, not yet, at least. He’ll help you when he’s done. He can’t have any distractions as he is near the brink of coming.  
His phone pings again, but he ignores it. His head is resting against his desk, choking on his breath, raspy and breathy moans spill from his lips, eye closed shut at the feeling of his cum trickling onto his fingers, dripping down the base and dirtying his clothes.
His cheek rests against his wooden desk, and he pants heavily as the aftershocks of his post-nut clarity wash over him. He can feel his eyes getting heavy; the lack of sleep and the release of oxytocin catch up to him until the sound of another message perks him right up.
He’s too bothered to move; his hand is tapping around the desk, blindly searching for his phone. He’s hoping the assignment is easy enough to solve in his head. He’d give you the answers and call it a night—that was the plan. But as his eyes scan the message, he feels his heart sink.
‘You didn’t last this long with me.’
He sits up immediately, digging through the messages like a timed quiz. He glances at the timestamp of the first image attachment you sent, 12:23 AM, and then at the time displayed on the corner of his phone, 12:42 AM. He left you on read for 19 minutes. Frantically, he types away on his phone, sending you the first excuse that comes to mind.
‘I’m solving the problem’
He sees the words under his message go from Sent to Read almost immediately. He’s holding his breath as he sees the chat bubbles appear.
‘Ah, silly me, I sent the wrong attachment again!’
His fingers hover over the second photo, nervously anticipating his death. He can’t leave you on read too long again; he clicks on the second attachment that was supposed to be the homework problem and realizes it’s another lewd photo…a different position.
He sees the chat bubbles on his screen, and he dreads what you will say.
‘What problem were you solving?’
The problem between his legs….
It’s tempting—he wants to play along with your antics and level the playing field. His fingers hover over the camera app, and his brain racks over the idea of sending you the mess you’ve made of him—he decides against it.
Instead, he sends you a different image, nothing like what you sent, but he knows it will drive you crazy. It’s petty, he’s aware, but you were the one who started it.
The chat bubbles appear, then disappear; he waits for your response.
‘you’re stupid…’
He sent you a still image of a loading screen.
‘I know’
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A/n: Sorry for making you wait so long! And sorry for edging y'all again...🤭
The next chapter will be the last one! You know what that means! 😏😛
Might be a good minute before the next chapter, my classes are picking up in intensity and I’m trying to lock in 🫩
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shadowkoo · 8 months ago
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disgraceful dreams
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→ Summary: After two years of lustful pining and disgraceful dreams about someone far out of your reach, you decide the only way to move past your hopeless crush on Onyx Academy's star student is by taking part in the Lupercalia festival for the very first time.
↠ wooyoung x f.reader (feat. yeosang) | 16.4k words | 18+ ↠ genre: witch/warlock au, smut, virgin!reader, inspired by s2e3 of caos, slowburn
→ Full Fic Warnings: little bit of social class discrimination, cult-ish behavior (mentions of blood, Y/N uses a knife to cut her hand for binding/ritual purposes), being ‘hunted’ like prey, explicit sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names, praise kink, biting, nipple play, breast play, begging, fingering, mutual masturbation, oral (female and male receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, partial agoraphilia & semi-public sex, dirty talk, heavy teasing, spanking, multiple orgasms, grinding, deep dicking, size kink (wooyoung is HUNGGG), magical sex, fucking up against a tree, slight age gap (y/n is 20 and wooyoung is 25), slight corruption, choking, possessive!wooyoung, woo is ravenous for you (you’re welcome)
→ Networks: tagged below
@ksmutsociety @k-vanity @pirateeznet @cromernet
@illusionnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @cultofdionysusnet
→ Moodboard: view here!
→ Author Note: edited by the lovely aeris @beomcoups whom i appreciate so SO much for tackling this beast of a fic ILY! And also to ally @lovetaroandtaemin for reading this over for me!!! this doesn’t follow the exact lupercalia process, i’ve twisted it to work for my fic and based it around halloween instead of valenbarf day lol, if you'd prefer to read on ao3, it's been crossposted here!! all likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated <3
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⋆˙⟡ m.list ⟡⋆⟡ ao3 ⟡⋆⟡ wips ⟡⋆⟡ updates ⟡⋆⟡ shadow realm ⟡˙⋆
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‘This can’t be real.’
Jung Wooyoung casts a dark look upon you while taking in your ethereal, naked form before him. The flames of the common room’s fireplace dance in his eyes, reflecting his sinister and most impure thoughts. Thoughts of you, what he wants to do to you. With you.
‘I must be dreaming.’
He circles around you, hovering over your backside and letting his hands fall to your bare hips. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps across your skin.
“Mmm, can I touch you?” Wooyoung whispers as he leans in to kiss the dip between your shoulder and neck.
You nod, giving him permission to do whatever he pleases, and lean back against his broad chest.
His hands move from your side, one moving upward to cup your breast, the other heading down between your legs, gently tracing your silky skin until his fingers find their way home and sink into your sweet center.
The sensation awakens you from your sinful slumber, and you sigh, realizing it was only a dream—another delicious and depriving dream that left you wanting someone who would never consider you.
Groaning, you force yourself to roll out of bed and step toward your closet. Black Mass isn’t for another hour, but arriving early might help erase these recurring dreams from your memory.
Your footsteps echo in the empty hall as you exit the residential wing, making your way outside. It’s a beautiful gloomy day, the air is crisp and the sun is hidden by thick clouds that look as if they could open up at any moment and soak the woods with another harsh day of rain - something you wouldn’t mind.
The fog creeps through the forest, following your steps and trailing behind while you wait for your familiar to catch up. Besides your raven’s distant cry, it’s quiet. The hum of the earth’s magic is even more reserved than usual. It’s peacefully eerie.
“Ghoul Morning, Blair,” you say, extending your wrist out for her. She caws from above and slowly descends from the clouds, eagerly accepting your arm as the safe place to perch while you walk along the path to the Unholy Church.
Though she looks like a raven while masked, Blair wreaks havoc in her goblin form on anyone, and anything, that dares to disturb you. She’s one of the strongest familiars a witch could be cursed with, and you’ve been thankful for her services ever since you started training.
It’s your second year attending The Onyx Academy of Dark Casting, a magical finishing school that only the finest witches and warlocks between the ages of nineteen and twenty-five are given the unholiest privilege to attend.
Of these students, the Dark Stars of each class lead with their high values and spectacular spell casting. More often than not, they graduate with the highest dishonor and ascend to become High Priests and Priestesses of covens across the world.
Jung Wooyoung is a beloved Dark Star and stellar student, and it’s rumored that he’ll become the youngest Anti-Pope inducted into the Church of Night after his completion here at the academy.
Even with your unique gift, it’s not in the cards for a person of your status to ever equal his. Which you very well know and understand, despite the dark fantasies that haunt you most nights and your schoolgirl crush that hasn’t gone away since the very first day you met him.
Blair lets out a sharp caw, her wings cutting through the air as she ascends, perching gracefully on the steeple just as you arrive at the church. Her dark silhouette stands stark against the sky, watching over you like a silent sentinel.
The towering doors creak open as you approach them, welcoming you inside the dim space. You walk between the rows of pews, watching the candles that mark the aisle light up as you pass.
Once closer to the altar, you lift a hand and wave it across the front of the sanctuary. The room becomes brighter as the remaining unlit candles grow flames from your magic.
You have a way with the elements; you’re able to manipulate and control them as you wish without specific spells, conjuring them when you please. Your energy is unmatched compared to the other gifted students.
Yet, instead of improving your social status, being gifted has made you even more of an outcast. The professors are wary of your potential and what you could be capable of; the students keep their distance too, either jealous or frightened of your power.
Needless to say, you’re not Miss Popular, but that doesn’t bother you as much as it could. Only the luckiest of witches and warlocks are disgraced with gifts from the Dark Lord, and having chosen you out of everyone means something. And knowing the Dark Lord chose you is enough.
You settle into your usual pew, the familiar creak of the wooden bench under you blending into the background as your mind begins to churn. Thoughts swirl of today’s impending announcement during Father Blackmoor’s sermon cross your mind.
The excitement for Lupercalia is beginning to build. This ancient festival, celebrated by all magic wielders the week leading up to Halloween, is dedicated to the Goddess Peralia, who blesses covens with enhanced health, virility, and fertility in exchange for an indelicate offering. Participants must engage in a series of ritualistic events celebrating lust and sexuality, transforming the festival into a vibrant expression of desire and intimacy. Only then will she offer her unholiest blessing.
You sit there, not in prayer, but in a quiet storm of contemplation, unsure if you will sign up for the festival this year. Another downfall to being viewed as an outsider is that you have yet to experience, well, anything. Sure, you might have kissed a couple of warlocks in your intermediate years, you even had a boyfriend in prep school whom you were convinced you could have loved eventually, but your virtue has yet to be given away.
It’s common for witches and warlocks to lose their virginity during Lupercalia; typically when they are in prep school. In fact, it’s encouraged. Yet, by age twenty, you still haven't mustered the courage to join in the festivities.
This year might be different…
The sudden crash of books jolts you from your thoughts. You turn to see Yeosang, a fellow student, crouched beside a toppled stack of The Book of Blood, its pages splayed open.
“My apologies; I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice as he scrambles to gather the scattered volumes. His cheeks flush slightly, and you can't help but smile softly.
He’s a sixth-year student, just like Wooyoung. Yet, where Wooyoung’s presence demands your attention with an almost suffocating charisma, Yeosang embodies a more reserved demeanor. He tends to stick to his tight-knit group of friends and immerses himself in his studies, radiating a quiet intensity that draws you in without overwhelming you.
You feel a wave of annoyance wash over you as soon you realize that even in the presence of another man, your thoughts keep drifting back to Wooyoung. It frustrates you to no end, pushing you to a spontaneous decision: this year will finally be the year you break free from this obsession. By participating in Lupercalia, you’re determined to finally move on from him once and for all.
“Don’t worry about it,” you reply, “The Dark Lord has already provided me with the clarity I came here for.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, carefully restacking the last book. He glances to his left, likely considering the seat he usually occupies, before turning back to you. “Would you mind if I joined you?” he asks, a hopeful note in his voice as he gestures toward the space beside you.
“Not at all, please do,” you smile.
He settles beside you with an effortless grace, and the air around you immediately fills with the warm, intoxicating blend of amber and musk from his cologne. The scent is rich, almost magnetic, pulling your attention in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You fidget with your hands, trying to focus on anything but how good he smells, as your mind races to keep pace with your quickening heartbeat.
Maybe... you could partner with Yeosang for the festival. The thought lingers as you steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He’s undeniably handsome—sharp features that give him a striking, confident look, but it’s his kindness that really stands out. There’s a warmth in the way he carries himself, a subtle softness behind those strong eyes that makes him more than just attractive. You wonder what it would be like to lose your virginity to someone like him, someone who seems both strong and thoughtful in all the right ways.
"Are you sure you are okay? You seem a little tense," he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern as his eyes search your face. You hesitate to answer, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks, and though you're trying to keep your composure, your breath has grown a little quicker, more shallow.
Thankfully, he’s kind enough not to mention it, but you catch the flicker of awareness in his gaze. His words are gentle, but there's an underlying curiosity there—like he's not just asking out of politeness but because he genuinely cares. You try to steady yourself, aware of the closeness between you, and suddenly the air feels heavier as if the moment itself is holding its breath, waiting for your next move.
"I didn’t mean to pry if it’s personal," he quickly adds, his voice softening as he notices your hesitation. His words have a touch of urgency, and he backtracks, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. His shifts slightly, giving you space while still holding onto the moment, unsure whether to push further or retreat.
"Can I tell you a secret?" The words escape your lips before you even realize what you’ve said. For a moment, you freeze, caught off guard by your sudden vulnerability. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but there’s no turning back now.
Yeosang nods and softly says, “Of course.”
“I’ve…never participated in Lupercalia,” you admit guardedly.
“Oh, um. That’s, uh…” He’s visibly taken aback when he hears your confession, stumbling over his words. “Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that.”
He shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, uh, that’s really something. I just, uh… I guess I never saw you as someone who hadn’t, you know, participated.” He draws out the last word, his tone heavy with the unspoken meaning.
You nod, trying to meet his eyes. “I know, it’s just… I never felt called to join in on the festivities in previous years. But lately, that feeling has… changed.”
“Oh. Right, yeah, I get it. So you’ll be signing up for the events this year?” He asks with a calm, collected voice, though he’s concerned that the quickened rhythm of his heartbeat betrays his calm facade.
Hearing your confession piques his interest. He’s always found you hauntingly beautiful and has enjoyed the casual conversations you’ve shared between classes and such, but today feels different.
He knew you didn’t actively participate last year, though he figured you were still doing something-someone-in private. Now that your secret is out, there's something undeniably more intriguing about you—an unexpected allure that wasn’t there before.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about it.”
“I think you should,” he blurts out, then quickly adds, “What I mean is, the festival’s about self-expression and the intimacy you share along the way. If you’re looking for a wild introduction to Lupercalia, there will be plenty of opportunists who share that venereal vision. But if you want something more comforting…choose someone who makes you feel safe and respected for your first time.” Yeosang trails off, his gaze lingering a little too long, the implication unmistakable. He clears his throat, trying not to give himself and his intentions away.
“Thank you, Yeosang,” you say while resting a hand above his knee, genuinely appreciating his insight.
Before the conversation can continue, the sound of footsteps echoes through the Church as fellow students file in, taking their seats. Black Mass is about to begin.
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Wooyoung hadn’t intended to listen in on your conversation. He was too busy waiting for the other Dark Stars to arrive at the closed-off sanctuary to finish preparing for Black Mass. As usual, they didn’t show up early despite his suggestions. That’s a lie; he knew his words were less like suggestions and more like demands.
He was well aware they’d be late today, especially since most of the fifth and sixth years had spent the night at an intimate pre-Lupercalia party that stretched into dawn.
The only reason he peeked through the shadows was due to a loud crash, which he soon realized came from Yeosang, who appeared entranced by someone sitting near the front of the Church. That’s when he noticed it was you.
He’ll admit to having observed you over the past year—not out of personal interest, but because he’s intrigued by your unique gift and curious as to why the Dark Lord chose you of all people. Yes, you’re undeniably attractive as most witches are, but your ability to manipulate pure power without relying on spellwork is, to him, the most compelling quality you possess. If you had the right social standing, you would likely ascend to the role of High Priestess in a very fortunate coven.
From his hidden vantage point, he watches as his friend settles down beside you; that’s when the conversation begins.
“I’ve…never participated in Lupercalia,” he hears you share your secret. Now that is quite a confession.
Wooyoung’s lips curl into a smirk as he observes your flushed face from a distance, the rosy hue contrasting with the cold room that surrounds you. There’s a spark of mischief in his eyes as he takes in the way you shift nervously, completely unaware of his gaze.
Knowing that you haven’t been touched stirs a mix of amusement and curiosity within him. He wonders what thoughts are racing through your mind, feeling a strange sensation rush through him when you place your hand on his classmate’s thigh.
He saw no reason to hold back from participating. The moment he came of age, he dove in—and he’s done so every year since, always finding ways to revel in the experience to the fullest. As he reflects on past encounters, a pleased smile crosses his face as he silently counts the number of popped cherries he’s collected over the last several seasons, each a vivid memory weaved into his mind.
‘What’s one more…’
As more students trickle in and take their seats, the soft murmur of conversation fills the air. Wooyoung senses the moment is right and slips out of the shadows just as Father Blackmoor begins to walk down the aisle, weaving between the pews filled with eager faces. The flickering candlelight dances on the stone walls, casting a warm glow that contrasts with the coolness of the sanctuary.
He moves to stand on the left of Father Blackmoor, joining the other Dark Stars who are trying to stifle their yawns. The collective fatigue from the previous night’s festivities hangs in the air, but a shared excitement simmers beneath the surface. He exchanges brief glances with his fellow Stars, a silent acknowledgment of their late-night revelry and the anticipation of what today’s ceremony will bring.
“Fiends and Friends, today marks the beginning of our annual Lupercalia Festival,” Father Blackmoor announces, his voice resonating through the crammed Church. “As you all know, Lupercalia is upon us. I can feel the excitement buzzing in the air. The Festival of Wolves is a cherished tradition within our coven, and we take immense pride in honoring Goddess Peralia through a series of exhilarating rituals, all in hopes of receiving her unholiest blessings. With that in mind, let’s review the week’s events for those of you who are new to our practices.”
Father Blackmoor pauses to take an envelope from Wooyoung. “Tomorrow marks the start of the Assessment Period, which will be held in the Grand Hall. Witches who sign up today will be quizzed by prospective partners in hopes of finding their ideal match.”
“Courting begins on Tuesday. Those interested in a specific witch will reserve time slots to spend more time together. By the end of the night, the warlocks must submit the names of the witches they wish to be paired with. This will be followed by the Matching Ceremony on Wednesday, where the pairs will be revealed to the entire coven. On Thursday, we’ll have the Moon Ritual, during which the paired couples will venture into the darkwood to complete the rite. More specific details will be shared on the day, but they are expected to spend the night together beneath the moon in unholy abstinence.”
Some students snicker, knowing very well they won’t be abstaining from anything that night.
Father Blackmoor waits for the room to settle down before continuing, “Friday ushers in the Insatiable Hunt at dusk, where wolf-masked warlocks will chase after their red-cloaked witches through the woods, culminating in divine pleasure once they’ve been caught. We’ll conclude the week of festivities on Saturday with the Final Feast, where we will express our gratitude to Goddess Peralia for her many blessings this season.”
Wooyoung steps forward once more, this time carrying an ancient, leather-bound tome. The worn edges and faded lettering hint at its age and significance.
It’s the Book of Blood; which contains hundreds of Witches and Warlock's printed names, signed with their crimson ink, as a binding commitment to their word. It’s like a contract between yourself, the entire coven, and the Dark Lord himself.
With a practiced hand, he carefully cracks it open, his eyes sweeping across the room. “Witches that dare to participate, please step forward, say your intent, and sign your name in the Book of Blood.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as you push yourself to your feet, joining the line of participants ahead of you. A mix of excitement and nerves swirl in your stomach, each step bringing you closer to the moment you've been both dreading and anticipating.
The weight of curious eyes fall on you as you move, but none more intense than Yeosang's. His gaze feels like a spotlight, cutting through the crowd around him.
With each passing second, your pulse quickens as the line inches forward at a deathly slow pace. Every breath feels shallow, as if the air is too thick for your lungs to handle. Despite the knot of nerves tightening in your belly, your feet move on their own, as if guided by some force beyond your control.
Before you even realize it, you’re standing before Wooyoung. His eyes pierce down onto you while he hands you a knife, “Do you hereby pledge your full participation and commitment to the forthcoming Lupercalia festival and all associated events?”
Taking a deep breath, you respond, “Yes, I pledge myself.”
You take the knife from him, feeling the cold steel as you press the sharp blade into your palm. With a swift motion, you slice a clean, precise line across your skin. Ruby-red blood wells up, pooling in your cupped hand. Without hesitation, Father Blackmoor raises his hand, his dark magic swirling in the air as he draws the blood from your palm. It twists and shapes into the form of a pen, glowing faintly with a sinister aura, ready to be used.
You reach up and grasp the hovering pen, its energy vibrating through your hand. As you sign your name in the book, a surge of adrenaline floods your veins, electrifying every nerve. The moment the ink dries, you feel an undeniable shift. Something deep within you has been awakened.
Wooyoung smirks, knowing the sensation very well. “There’s no backing out now,” he says to you, his gaze locking onto yours, sharp and unrelenting.
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“So,” Jongho, a second-year student like yourself, pauses to clear his throat after pulling on his tie, “That was awful.”
You chuckle, relieved to see you're not the only one with frayed nerves. “Yeah, good luck with the rest of them.”
He smiles back before shuffling along to the next person.
It’s Assessment Day, and every witch who signed their name is being rigorously questioned by the participating warlocks. Friends who had gone through this in previous years warned you about what to expect, and they were right. It’s definitely a forced mingling period on steroids.
It’s only been an hour, and you’re already exhausted of the routine of answering questions filled with probing and uncomfortable inquiries that delve into personal preferences. Over and over again, you're forced to confront touchy subjects, as if each question is designed to peel away the layers of your desires, as if you know.
The process feels more like an interrogation than a mere assessment, testing not just your patience, but your lack of knowledge on the subject at hand—sex.
The situation would be far less awkward if you didn't have to sit directly across from someone to verbally review the list. After each question, it’s mandatory to respond in one of the following ways: Agree - you give consent to the matter being discussed with the current party; Acknowledge - it is a potential option, and you give partial consent or Decline - no consent is given.
You pick at your fingernails while you wait for the next warlock.
“Penny dreadful for your thoughts?” You glance up to see Yeosang sliding into the seat across from you, with a broad smile spread across his handsome face.
“Oh, hi!” you say, doing your best to not sound startled. “Just wondering when all of this will be over, you know?” you continue, waving your arms around.
“Yeah, this part of the process isn’t the most comfortable. But I understand why it’s necessary,” he comments while leaning forward on the table. “Have the others been respectful?”
“Oh, yes. Yeah, everyone has been nice. I’m learning how many students I’ve never spoken to before,” you reply lightheartedly.
"Shall we begin?" Yeosang asks with a playful glint in his eyes, nodding toward the paper resting between you on the table, waiting for your cue to dive in.
Just as he reaches to pick up the list of desires to discuss, his movement is halted by the sudden arrival of Wooyoung, whose presence instantly commands attention.
He strides up to your table with his usual confidence, a grin tugging at his lips. The conversation shifts before it even begins, as Wooyoung’s energy pulls both your attention toward him without saying a word.
Yeosang lowers the paper, his eyes flicking between you and Wooyoung, sensing the inevitable distraction.
“Father Blackmoor has requested your presence in the Anti-Sacristy,” Wooyoung announces, handing him a miniature scroll with a secret message.
Yeosang frowns while reading it over, “Please excuse me.”
"Of course, I hope everything's alright," you murmur, though your words go unheard as he's already on his feet, moving swiftly toward the door.
Watching Yeosang rush out, you suddenly realize Wooyoung is still standing there. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and he tilts his head, studying you with a curious intensity.
"Seems like you require a partner," he says with a smirk, sliding effortlessly into Yeosang’s chair without missing a beat.
You’re too stunned to respond and shift uncomfortably in your seat, completely unsure of what to do in this situation. He’s not offering to go through the questionnaire, is he?
Somehow, you forgot that you would, at some point, have to converse with Wooyoung today. It entirely slipped your mind up until this moment. And now he’s here without giving you time to prepare. You start to breathe a little heavier, and a slight sense of panic sets in.
“Why are you acting like that?” He says with a raised eyebrow, noticing your bouncing leg (a nervous habit of yours that annoyingly shows up at the worst possible moments.)
“I’m not sure what you mean?” Well, yes, you do but you won’t admit that. But your hyperventilating and antsy body might tell a different story.
“Yeah, right,” he rolls his eyes.
Your eyes lock on Wooyoung’s as he casually picks up the page. Without waiting for your reaction, he glances at the list and reads off the first item, his voice smooth and confident.
"How does each party feel about blood play; drawing blood by use of knives or other sharp weaponry, smearing blood, using blood as a lubricant, and/or tasting blood?" he reads off, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he waits for your response.
"I acknowledge," you reply with hesitation in your voice, uncertain whether you’re truly opposed to it, yet not entirely sure if you fully consent either. “And you?”
Wooyoung tilts his head again, “Do you really need to ask?”
"You and I both know there are specific rules to follow here," you say, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed, eyes fixed on him with a mixture of challenge and caution. And, if you’re being completely honest, there’s a hint of annoyance now too. The nervousness from earlier has vanished entirely.
“Fair enough,” "he replies with a nonchalant sigh, “I agree.”
It’s your turn to read off the next item. “Does each participating student consent to bringing in other parties to join and/or watch your sexual relations? And additionally, joining others.” You look up toward Wooyoung, already expecting him to agree to those terms.
“Decline,” he states firmly, his voice dropping an octave as he adds, “I don’t share.”
You try to mask your shock, but the expression slips through.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he huffs.
“Sorry,” you mumble, “I also decline.”
He nods curtly, and you swear you hear him mutter "good" under his breath.
You breeze through the next set of questions surprisingly fast, both providing the appropriate answers as you work your way down the page.
At first, Wooyoung seemed a bit disinterested, but something caused his attitude to shift. Now, he’s more engaged, genuinely listening to your reasonings whenever you offer it.
“Last question, how many sexual partners have each participating party had?”
As he finishes speaking, you narrow your eyes at him, “That question isn’t on the list.” You’ve practically memorized them all by now. “You’re making that up.”
“So? Answer anyway,” he dares.
You glare at him, silently debating whether or not you should tell the truth. “Screw it,” you exhale, “None.”
Instead of the shock or teasing you expect, he simply blinks at you, as if he already knew what your answer would be.
But how…
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When you wake the next morning, butterflies are already fluttering in your stomach. At this point, it’s hard to judge who will end up courting you, though you have a pretty good idea that Yeosang is interested. When he returned after visiting Father Blackmoor, you two had quite a connection while going through the assessment list.
You’ll find out for sure when you make it to the Dining Hall the courting schedule will be pinned on the announcement board for everyone to view.
You decide to grab a pastry and wait for the crowd around the schedule to thin out before checking how many dates you will have today. To keep things relatively fair, each witch is only allowed to have up to five courting suitors. A flicker of nerves sets in—what if no one reserved one of your time slots?
For the love of Lucifer, please let me have at least one warlock courting me.
You shove the last bite into your mouth and make your way to the board, eager to find out. Peeking around the remaining heads blocking your view, you spot that two of your time slots have already been reserved. Just as you’re trying to make out the names, someone taps you on the shoulder.
“Ghoul morning, Y/N,” Yeosang says with a smile, handing you a card. Your heartbeat picks up, recognizing the formality; courting warlocks are required to provide the witches with a card that essentially confirms their date.
“Hi, Yeosang!” You beam. Praise Satan.
He looks relieved when you accept his card. “I was hoping to see you this morning. Meet me at the Weeping Willow at three o’clock this afternoon. I have a special activity planned for us.”
You’re about to respond when you can feel his presence. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see Wooyoung standing closely behind. He towers over you, staring down Yeosang.
“Do you need something?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you while silently begging that he’s not here to send Yeosang away again, like yesterday.
“Yes,” he extends a hand, offering you a card. You stare at it in disbelief. He’s not here to steal Yeosang; he’s stealing you.
Wooyoung is your other suitor.
“I believe you’re meant to spend the morning with me.” Wooyoung’s eyes drift from yours and back to Yeosang’s, who tenses beside you. They seem to have a silent exchange of words.
“I see,” Yeosang says curtly, “Enjoy your time together.”
Before you have a chance to say anything Yeosang already disappears. Damn it.
“Come on, follow me,” Wooyoung demands while grabbing your wrist. He leads you down the dim, shadowy hallways of the school before picking up the pace as you leave the safety of the school, heading into the woods.
The thick trees close in around you, and the air feels heavier with each step. Fog swirls at your feet but mysteriously clears a path ahead of him like it knows exactly where he's going. You follow, feeling the cool, damp air cling to your skin. The deeper you go, the more unfamiliar the landscape becomes—you don’t recognize this part of the woods at all, and a strange sense of unease settles over you.
“Bloody heaven, where are you taking me?” you huff, doing your best to keep up with his long strides.
“You’ll see,” he grumbles, helping you up when you trip over an exposed tree root. “Can you stop tripping every five seconds? You’re slowing us down, and we’re on a time crunch.”
You glare at the back of his head as he speeds up. What a dick.
It’s not long before you arrive at the destination; it’s a stone table in the middle of the woods. You look around suspiciously. “Is this a ritual site? Are you planning on killing me for some weird sacrificial thing now that you know I’m a virgin, or…?”
Wooyoung bursts out laughing, “The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, actually. This is a portal.”
“A portal? To where?” you ask, peering at the stone. It doesn’t look like any portal you’ve ever seen.
“Want to find out?” he offers a hand for you to take, and you grab it warily.
He places his other hand on the stone, and its magic instantly pulls you through the atmosphere, sending you spiraling toward an unknown destination.
When you land, your feet hit the damp cobblestone street with a soft thud. The air smells of rain and baked goods, and you take in the bustling scene around you—witches and warlocks are flowing in and out of quaint little shops that line both sides of the road, their chatter filling the air. The street is alive with energy, and everything looks both foreign and strangely charming.
Before you can fully absorb it all, Wooyoung tugs you along, his grip firm as your head swivels, trying to figure out exactly where you’ve been transported to. The unfamiliar cityscape seems like a dream, its details slipping through your grasp as you hurry to keep up.
Suddenly, you collide with his back, not realizing he has stopped. "Ouch," you mutter, rubbing your nose in surprise. You’re about to say more when something above catches your eye—the sign swinging in the breeze.
"Trahana’s Tomb!" you squeal, excitement bubbling up. For ages, you've wanted to visit this place, but something always got in the way. Now, here it is, right in front of you, and the thrill of finally arriving sends a rush through you.
Trahana is a renowned sorceress and writer known for her vast collection of grimoires, enchanted artifacts, and other rare occult items—many of which are now on display and for sale at her legendary store. You've been itching to get your hands on her coveted Book of Arcane Beasts, a tome filled with forbidden knowledge of magical creatures, their histories, and untold powers.
Wooyoung holds the door open for you, and without a second thought, you dash inside. Your eyes widen as you take in the towering shelves crammed with both ancient and new books. Every corner of the shop is overflowing with enchanted curiosities.
At the back of the shop, a narrow, spiraling staircase catches your eye. It likely leads to an upper level filled with even more treasures waiting to be explored. The thought of what might be hidden beyond tempts you, adding to the growing sense of wonder.
"Oh, my sweet, evil boy! How are you?"
You turn to see a tall, elegant woman pinching Wooyoung’s cheeks with an affectionate grin.
He swats her hands away, groaning, "Aunt Hana, you know I hate when you do that. I’m not five anymore."
She laughs, unbothered by his protest. "Oh, you'll always be the stubborn young warlock playing with the Acheron Configuration upstairs even when told it was off limits," she teases, her eyes twinkling with the memory. “Goddess knows how many hours you spent trying to crack that spell.”
She shifts her gaze to you, giving you a quick once-over before raising an eyebrow. "Don’t be rude, Wooyoung. Introduce me to your friend."
Wooyoung rolls his eyes, "Forgive me. This is Y/N, another student at Onyx Academy. Y/N, meet Trahana, the curator of this fine establishment and, unfortunately, my insufferable aunt."
Trahana smirks, ignoring his jab. "Charmed, I’m sure," she says, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she sizes you up.
"I need to get back to work, but it was a pleasure meeting you, darling," Trahana says with a warm smile, her voice dripping with a mix of elegance and mystery. She gives you one last appraising look before turning away, her long robes sweeping the floor as she glides effortlessly toward the front of the store. The air feels lighter without her presence, yet the sense of power she carries lingers, leaving you a little awestruck.
You gape at him once she’s out of earshot. "She’s your aunt?"
Wooyoung sighs, nodding with exaggerated patience. "Yes, I’m painfully aware."
"That’s so cool. So you spent a lot of time here growing up?" you ask, curious to learn more about him.
"Yeah," Wooyoung replies, glancing around the shop with a hint of nostalgia. "My parents traveled a lot for business when I was younger, so this place became like a second home. Now, I come back whenever I need a break from school. Plus, it’s a great place to study; there's something peaceful about the chaos here compared to the eerie silence of Onyx Academy’s library."
"That makes sense," you say, nodding as your fingers trail across the spines of the old books lining the tight aisle. The dust, the energy, and the soft hum of magic in the air make the shop feel alive, the perfect contrast to the academy’s cold, quiet halls. "I can see why you'd find this place comforting."
Wooyoung smiles, clearly more relaxed here than you've ever seen him. "It’s got a strange kind of charm, doesn’t it?" he says, his voice softer now as the two of you meander through the maze of shelves, discovering little pieces of history with every step.
He allows you to explore the shelves, letting you dive into the books that capture your interest. As you lean down to examine the aged pages, he watches as a loose strand of hair slips across your face, and you absently tuck it behind your ear.
"Can I show you something?" he asks, gently drawing you away from the book that’s captivated your attention.
You glance up at him, and to your surprise, he almost seems nervous. It’s a rare sight for someone who usually exudes such confidence. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, making you curious about what he wants to show you.
Nodding, you allow him to lead you toward another bookshelf two aisles away from where you were just standing. His gaze flicks across the titles, searching for something specific.
"Ah, here it is," he finally says, lifting his arm to reveal a book with a deep blue spine. You hear a soft click as he pulls it out slightly, followed by a faint unlocking sound. With a practiced motion, he shifts down to another shelf and pulls out a book with a green spine. To your astonishment, the entire bookcase creaks ominously before revealing a secret door.
"This whole day just keeps getting stranger by the minute. Is this another portal?" you ask, a mix of skepticism and humor in your voice.
Wooyoung grins playfully. "As entertaining as that would be, no. It’s not a portal. It’s my secret place."
You turn to look at him. "See, now that’s kind of worse. Now I really don’t want to go in." The idea of stepping into his hidden sanctuary feels more daunting than the prospect of another magical journey.
He gives you a look.
“Okay, fine. In I go,” you say, taking a step closer before reaching for the cold handle. As you turn it and push the door open, you peer into the darkness beyond, straining to gauge what lies within. And, if you have to be completely honest, wondering why it needs to be hidden away.
Wooyoung steps inside after you, snapping his fingers to conjure his magic. A bright orb of light flickers to life, glowing softly at first. As he guides it upward, it gradually brightens and rises to the center of the room, illuminating the hidden space with a warm, inviting glow. The walls are revealed and adorned with eclectic decorations and mysterious photographs, creating an enchanting and haunting atmosphere.
"What is this place?" you ask, your curiosity piqued as you step closer to a nearby table and spot a stack of photographs. You pick up the first few, admiring the artistic shots of a plant you recognize from your walks through the Darkwood—it's a Moonset Fern, captured in full bloom. You remember learning about it in Herbology 101 last year; it’s renowned for its ability to protect against ill-will spells.
Intrigued, you skim through the rest of the stack. Each photo showcases different plants, all with potent herbal properties, their images so carefully composed they almost seem to pulse with hidden power.
“So,” Wooyoung says nervously, “What do you think?”
“Of the photographs? I think they’re beautiful. You took these?” He nods. “I didn’t know you had an interest in photography. Or Herbology, for that matter.”
"It’s a secret interest. Obviously," Wooyoung says, gesturing around the room to emphasize his point. "Unfortunately, Father Blackmoor thinks it’s a complete waste of time. To him, this is the work of a lesser warlock." The distaste is evident in his voice, like the words themselves leave a bitter taste in his mouth. "He’d rather I focus on proving my potential to become the youngest Anti-Pope."
"Do you believe him?" you ask, watching his reaction closely.
"Am I even allowed to believe any different?" he replies, his tone a mix of resignation and defiance. He picks up a different stack of photos and flips through them, each holding a distant memory of a time he felt genuine joy.
"Part of me wishes I wasn’t destined for this life—that I had the power to shape my own future," Wooyoung admits, his voice heavy with conflicted emotion. "But then the other half of me hates myself for even thinking like that, especially after everything my family has sacrificed to get me here." His gaze drops, the weight of expectation clearly pressing down on him, caught between desire and duty.
“No one in the history of The Church of Night has ever turned down a position of power once they've received the proper training and hold the necessary status,” he continues, his tone growing darker. "I can’t even imagine the consequences of rejecting something like that." The mere thought seems to weigh on him, defying centuries of tradition would unravel everything—not just for him, but for everyone tied to his legacy.
“That’s a frustrating position to be forced into. Though, I hate to admit I’m jealous.”
His head snaps up, eyes locking onto yours, confusion and a flicker of anger etched across his face.
"I’ve spent my whole life not knowing what my future will look like," you begin, your voice tight with emotion. “I have all this power, yet no one can explain why I have it or what I’m supposed to do with it. I don’t have even the slightest clue where I’ll end up in life, so yeah, from that standpoint, I am a bit jealous of your situation," you admit, a hint of envy creeping into your voice.
As you speak, the anger in his expression gradually fades, replaced by a quiet understanding. His features soften, and you can see him truly considering your words, letting them sink in.
"At least you have a clear path laid out for you, even if it’s not exactly what you want. I’m still stumbling around, trying to figure out what my purpose even is. But even then..." your tone softens slightly, "If I were you, I wouldn’t let my sense of duty smother the passion I feel for another study—even if it’s an uncommon path for someone in my position.”
You begin again, your voice steady with conviction, "The Dark Lord wouldn’t have put this path in front of you if there wasn’t something here worth discovering. I’d bet there’s a connection between each path, and maybe, just maybe, you’re meant to do something with both. Something no one else has thought of yet.”
Wooyoung hadn’t thought of that.
“That’s just my two cents,” you sigh, setting the photos down and walking over to the next table with hundreds more to look through.
One photo in the middle of the pile catches your eye, standing out in a way the others don’t. You can’t quite place the plant; it’s unfamiliar, yet stirs a sense of deep nostalgia. It’s a rich olive green, with spiny stems and sharply pointed leaves giving it a menacing look. But what truly captivates you is the ethereal purple aura surrounding it, shimmering faintly, like the plant itself is alive with ancient magic. Something about it feels important, though you can’t recall ever seeing it before.
"It’s a Ghost Violaceae," Wooyoung murmurs softly, leaning in close over your shoulder. His breath is warm against your ear as he speaks, his voice slightly raspy. "It’s commonly used in the art of seduction." His words hang in the air, as mysterious as the plant itself, and the subtle intensity in his tone makes the air between you suddenly feel different.
Wooyoung would do unspeakable things to know the thoughts swirling in your mind right now. He’s desperate to unravel what it is that made you blush so fiercely, what’s causing your heart to race and your breath to quicken.
You turn slightly, looking up at him with your lips parted. Wooyoung tilts his head, his eyes sparkling as he tries to decipher the emotions playing across your face. There's a flicker of curiosity in your gaze, his focus sharpening as he leans in just a fraction closer…
The sudden ringing of a timer blares through the silence, startling you both. Your head snaps toward the sound and you see a stopwatch floating in midair, its rhythmic ticking a clear reminder that your time is almost up. It’s time to return to Onyx Academy to prepare for your next session with Yeosang.
Beside you, Wooyoung tenses, the atmosphere immediately changing. The warmth in his eyes vanishes as quickly as it has surfaced, replaced by the cold, guarded demeanor he typically fronts. His walls shoot back up, and just like that, the brief vulnerability between you disappears.
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Blair eyes you curiously, her black feathers ruffled while she senses the secret you’re holding back. She’s perched on a low branch, watching as you wait beneath the cascading limbs of the Weeping Willow. You’ve arrived early, not finding any solace in the silence of your room after returning to campus. Yeosang should be here any minute, but the unease from earlier lingers.
Wooyoung had barely spoken after the stopwatch appeared, his mood darkening as he grudgingly led you back to the portal. He rushed you through without a word, his steps heavy with frustration, and stormed off toward the church once back on school grounds without so much as a goodbye.
You’ve been trying to clear your mind, focusing your energy on the upcoming session with Yeosang, but the tension from Wooyoung still simmers under the surface. You take a deep breath, determined to push it aside and give Yeosang your full attention. He deserves it.
Blair lets out a sharp caw before taking off into the sky, disappearing into the distance as soon as she senses his presence. She knows to give you your privacy, leaving you alone just as he approaches.
“Oh, you’re here already,” Yeosang says, a bit surprised to see you already by the willows. He steps forward, his happy expression growing as he extends a bouquet of dried wine-colored roses, elegantly tied with a black ribbon.
“These are for you.”
Your breath catches at the sight of them. "These are gorgeous. Thank you—wow," you say, smiling while gently taking the bouquet from his hands. The gesture feels intimate, the deep red petals catching the light as you admire them, warmth blooming in your chest at the unexpected kindness.
“You’re welcome. Do you want to apparate them to your room?” Yeosang suggests.
“That’s a good idea, actually,” you reply, lifting the bouquet in front of you. With a soft hum, you recite the incantation, watching as the flowers shimmer and disappear, transporting them to your bedside table in an instant.
“There,” you smile, “Now they’ll be waiting for me when I get back.”
“We have a short walk to our destination. If you’ll follow me?” Yeosang guides you up a path behind the willow grove, the incline leading to a breathtaking view of the Darkwood below. The forest stretches endlessly, its shadowy canopy glittering with ancient magic.
"Do you mind waiting here?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck, a hint of nerves flickering across his face. "I thought I'd have a little more time to set things up."
You smile softly. "I don’t mind at all."
Relieved, he excuses himself, disappearing back down the trail to retrieve whatever surprise he has planned. The minutes pass in peaceful quiet, the cool air brushing against your skin. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment, until a faint rustling behind you interrupts the calm energy. You glance over your shoulder, seeing nothing, and shrug it off—probably just the wind.
But then, movement at the edge of the tree line catches your eye, a shadowy figure slipping between the trees.
You step cautiously toward the movement, your heart beating a little faster with each quiet footstep. The air seems to thicken as you approach, a soft rustling continuing just beyond the nearest tree. You steady yourself, taking a slow breath before rounding the massive trunk.
Face to face with the culprit, you freeze—a pair of wide, curious eyes staring back at you. It's a small, ethereal creature, almost like a fox but with wisps of glowing mist trailing from its fur. Its translucent body shimmers faintly under the dappled light filtering through the trees.
You exhale in relief, it’s just another familiar. The creature’s gentle gaze is more inquisitive than threatening; and she tilts her head, trying to decide whether to flee or come closer, her silver eyes studying you with an almost childlike curiosity. The creature soon takes off, before you have a chance to ask who they belong to.
As you turn around, a startled cry escapes your lips—Wooyoung is standing just inches from you, his presence completely unexpected.
"What are you doing here?" you snap, your hand instinctively flying to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart.
"I'm not really here. Just astral projecting. And who’s to say I wasn’t here first?"
You cross your arms, glaring at him, clearly unimpressed.
"Okay, fine. Maybe I wasn’t here first," he concedes with a shrug, his smirk faltering under your withering stare.
"Yeosang is going to be back any second," you warn, narrowing your eyes. "Are you here to spy on us?"
"Pfff... no..." he says, though the lack of conviction in his voice makes you roll your eyes.
"Lame," you mutter, watching his poorly veiled attempt at denial fall apart. He shifts awkwardly under your gaze, clearly caught.
“I don’t like that you’re alone with him.”
“Why?”
“I told you already. I. Don’t. Share.”
“You can’t be serious,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Is this just some kind of game? Are you playing with me because you don’t want Yeosang to have me? What is it, Wooyoung? You haven’t given me a second thought until two days ago.”
“It’s not like that—" Wooyoung starts, but the sound of rustling interrupts him, cutting his sentence short. Both of you turn, startled, as Yeosang emerges from the trees. His eyes sweep the clearing, looking for you since you aren’t standing where he left you. When he spots you, he smiles and approaches, carrying a woven basket in one arm and a blanket in the other.
You glance back toward Wooyoung, but he’s already vanished. Typical, slipping away before finishing what he started. Maybe he’s glad for the escape before you can grill him any further.
“Looking for something?”
‘More like someone,’ you think to yourself. “Oh sorry, I thought I saw a familiar, but it ran off,” you explain, brushing off the awkward moment. “So, what’s all this?” You gesture to the basket, quickly shifting the conversation before Yeosang has a chance to ask anything.
He grins, glancing down at his hands, a bit shy. "I hope you like picnics. I thought we could enjoy some treats and maybe get to know each other better."
“That sounds lovely,” you reply warmly.
Yeosang carefully picks a spot, spreading the blanket and the two of you sit side by side, the breathtaking view of the Darkwood stretching out below. There’s something serene about the quiet between you, the moment brimming with peaceful anticipation.
He sets the basket in front of you, lifting the lid to reveal an array of colorful sweets, the soft glow of the late afternoon sun reflecting off the glass jars inside. You notice delicate pastries, chocolates, and sugared fruits arranged neatly.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I brought a little of everything,” Yeosang says, his voice low but sincere.
Your heart warms at the gesture. "You’ve really outdone yourself,” you praise, picking up one of the pastries for yourself and offering another to him.
Curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to bring up the scroll from yesterday. "I didn’t want to pry, but you left in such a rush yesterday. Was everything alright?" you ask before taking a bite.
Yeosang chuckles softly, as if amused by the memory. "Funny you should ask. Turns out, when I arrived at Father Blackmoor’s office, he had no idea what I was talking about. No urgent scroll was sent for me. But he thought it was good timing and wanted to discuss my plans for after I complete my time at the academy."
Your curiosity piques further. "And those plans are...?" you press, hoping he’ll open up.
Yeosang hesitates briefly, but then, with a slight smile, he reveals, "I’d like to teach, maybe. My father was a teacher, and he always said I had the same qualities. Plus, I love kids. I think teaching them the basics of magic—the very foundation of what they'll need for the rest of their lives—would be important work."
A soft breeze ruffles the edges of the blanket, and you can’t help but smile at his answer. "That sounds perfect for you. I can already picture you as a great mentor."
The rest of your evening with Yeosang flies by in a blur of conversation and quiet moments spent enjoying the view. Before you know it, he's walking you back to the dormitories. He hesitates as you both stop outside the door to the girls' dorms, clearly lingering on something unsaid.
"I just want you to know," he starts, shifting nervously, "that regardless of what happens tomorrow at the Matching Ceremony, I had a lovely time tonight. I'll see you tomorrow then."
Before you can respond, he leans down and presses a soft kiss on your cheek. "Goodnight, Y/N."
You barely manage to mumble a “goodnight” back, still caught in the trance from the warmth of his lips against your skin. As you make your way up to your room, your heart feels light, and you can’t help but smile even wider when you notice the flowers he gave you earlier—now arranged beautifully in a vase on your nightstand.
But something else catches your eye—a small, glimmering box sitting on your bed, illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight. You walk over to it and find a note attached in handwriting you immediately recognize.
Not a game to me – W
Your breath hitches as you find the book you had been eyeing earlier—the one Wooyoung had distracted you from in Trahana’s shop—alongside the newest edition of The Book of Arcane Beasts. Tucked neatly between the pages are a few of the photographs from his secret room; the ones you had admired without realizing he noticed.
Your heart races as you hold the items in your hands, the meaning of his gesture sinking in. It’s not just a game. Whatever this is with Wooyoung, it’s something real. And now, you're more conflicted than ever.
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Yeosang steps closer to the flames that surge in the iron vessel before him, casting flickering shadows across his face while he waits. If you look closely, shapes begin to form within the flames, dancing and twisting as though something is being forged in the heat. A sudden flare of sparks erupts from the fire—it's ready.
With a steady hand, he pulls an envelope from the fire. The edges of the paper are still smoldering while he opens it with precision, watching as the magic ink slowly manifests on the paper, revealing a name.
You notice a brief, almost imperceptible frown cross his face, but it vanishes just as quickly. “Polly Petrify,” he announces smoothly, his voice steady, betraying nothing as he steps back into place.
Father Blackmoor gives a solemn nod, signaling his approval of the pairing.
The Church is packed for the Matching Ceremony, and a mix of excitement and nervous energy ripples through the crowd. The warlocks stand in front of the filled pews, their postures rigid and unreadable, while the witches occupy the first two rows of seats, eyes flickering with anticipation.
You sit among them, your heart sinking as Yeosang’s name is paired with another witch. The knot in your chest tightens, but before you have time to register how you truly feel, Wooyoung steps forward.
It’s his turn.
Time stretches unbearably as his fingers hover over the glowing envelope that emerges from the flames. He grasps it carefully, tearing it open before pulling out the slip of paper, the suspense in the room thickening with every second.
At least a dozen witches sit in eager anticipation, each one hopeful, their eyes flicking toward the altar, silently praying that their name will be the one called.
You watch his face intently, almost holding your breath.
The moment he reads the name, a subtle smile curls at the corner of his lips, making him look effortlessly gorgeous. His inky black hair falls in perfect disarray, and the deep blue sweater he’s wearing brings out a distinctive glimmer in his eyes—it’s definitely his color.
As he steps back in line to let the next warlock take their turn, you realize that you completely missed whose name he just called. You’ve been too busy gawking to notice. Leaning toward the witch beside you, you whisper, “Whose name did he say?”
She shoots you a scowl and snaps, “Yours.”
Your heart skips a beat, and your gaze whips back up front. Wooyoung catches your eye and quickly winks, the gesture playful yet it’s enough to send a wave of heat rushing through you. Your pulse races and every nerve in your body is suddenly aware of his presence. The world around you fades for a second, the reality of the situation sinking in—he chose you.
It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. Your chest tightens, and it’s taking every ounce of control not to claw at your neck in search of air. You can’t tell if your racing heart is a sign of excitement, fear, or a mixture of both.
The pairing results swirl through your mind as you try to process how you feel about Wooyoung having been paired with you. You know that the warlocks have some say in their pairing preference, but the decision is ultimately up to Father Blackmoor and The Dark Lord.
But there’s no time to dwell on it now—you have a performance to focus on. As the rest of the ceremony wraps up, the witches, including yourself, are expected to sing I Put A Spell On You.
You walk up to the front of the church with the other witches, your heart still hammering in your chest. You can feel Wooyoung’s gaze searing into you from across the room, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You know that if you do, you’ll stumble over the lyrics or worse, completely forget your part.
With every note of the song, you force yourself to remain composed. Your voice blends with the others, the melody haunting, filling the ancient church with an enchanting resonance. The weight of his stare lingers, but you resist the pull until the very end. Only when the final note fades and you’re walking back to your seat do you glance his way. His eyes are still on you, but there’s something different about his expression now—intense, unreadable.
Father Blackmoor steps forward as the ceremony winds down, his voice ringing through the dimly lit room. “Remember, paired witches and warlocks are strictly forbidden from seeing each other until tomorrow evening when you’ll all meet in the Darkwood for the Moon Ritual. Ghoul evening to you all.”
The church stirs with hushed whispers and rustling bodies as everyone begins to disperse. But you remain in place for a moment, your mind tangled in the events that have unfolded. Tomorrow promises even more mystery, and the thought of it sends another shiver down your spine.
You follow the large group down the path toward the heart of the academy’s campus, their excited chatter buzzing in the crisp evening air. But as they veer toward the dining hall, you quietly part ways, taking steps in the opposite direction toward a different building.
The heavy wooden doors creak as you push them open, and the familiar scent of ancient tomes and aged parchment envelops you.
The sanctum, the private library for advanced students like yourself, is nearly deserted tonight, making it the perfect place to find peace in the aftermath of the ceremony. The usual hum of magic is calming and the near-silence offers a much-needed space to clear your mind.
You make your way to the Demonology section, where the dim light and towering shelves create a cocoon of solitude. Finding an empty seat, you settle in, snapping your fingers to summon your books. In an instant, they materialize on the table before you, pages full of dark knowledge waiting to be absorbed.
Despite it being Lupercalia season, the academic grind doesn’t stop. Your upcoming exams loom over you like a dark cloud, and no amount of supernatural matchmaking will change that.
You run your fingers over the spines of your books, mentally preparing yourself to dive into study mode. The familiar words of your Demonology texts are grounding, a reminder of the discipline and focus you need to maintain.
The sanctum is quiet tonight, only the soft sound of pages turning and the occasional whispered incantation breaking the silence. You try to focus on the words in front of you, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wooyoung—his voice, his gaze, the gift he left in your room. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside. There will be time for all that later. For now, you need to concentrate.
Time passes and after finishing a few chapters, you glance at your watch, eyes widening in surprise. Three hours have flown by. Blair is going to be furious that you’re late to feed her. Scribbling down a final note, you snap your fingers, sending your books back to your room before heading out of the sanctum.
As you step outside, you collide with someone. "Oh, I’m so sorry!" you stammer, glancing up to apologize, only to be met with familiar eyes twinkling beneath tousled black hair.
Wooyoung.
“You’re forgiven,” he says smoothly.
"We’re not supposed to see each other," you remind him, taking a cautious step back.
He tilts his head, smirking too, just like he always does. "I know, but you skipped dinner, and there’s something I’ve been dying to do since yesterday."
"What? Stalk me some more?" you quip, feeling a rare surge of confidence.
His smirk spreads into a full smile, and to your delight, he chuckles—a sound you’ve secretly grown to love. Your heart pounds faster.
"You wish," he shoots back, his eyes gleaming as he steps closer. The intensity in his gaze feels almost magnetic, as if he's looking right through you, straight into your soul. His nostrils flare with a sharp exhale, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.
“What are you doing?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper as he takes yet another step closer.
He doesn't answer. Instead, with one smooth motion, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you toward him. His touch is firm, but there’s a softness to the way his fingers splay across your back. You feel your pulse quicken, your breath hitching in your throat.
“This is breaking the rules,” you whisper, trying to find an ounce of self-control to step out of his embrace.
His proximity overwhelms your senses—the warmth of his body, the way his breath tickles your skin, and the undeniable connection crackling between you two. He tilts his head slightly, the smirk on his lips fading into something more serious, more dangerous.
“I don’t break the rules, I just bend them,” he rasps, his voice low and teasing, right before he closes the space between you. The moment his lips brush against yours, you freeze, caught off guard by the softness, the tenderness as he coaxes you into responding. His mouth moves gently, skillfully, as if testing the waters, daring you to give in.
A frenzy stirs inside you, an electric current surging through your veins. Your hands instinctively move to frame his face, your fingers sliding along the sharp lines of his jaw before tangling in his soft, messy hair. The kiss deepens, the intensity building with every second as you press yourself closer to him, losing yourself in the heat of the moment.
You can’t get enough; the taste of him, the way his breath mingles with yours, and the undeniable pull that has your body responding before your mind can catch up. His other hand slides under your shirt and up your spine, anchoring you to him as if he never wants to let go.
Wooyoung mumbles an incantation against your lips before tickling the corners with his tongue. You’re too distracted to recall what he said, especially when you feel it.
Heat begins to radiate from his fingers, searing into your skin. It flows through your body until it hits your sweet spot, pooling dangerously between your legs.
You gasp against his mouth, and he uses the opportunity to dip his tongue inside, swallowing your moans as you let them slip out. Pressing your legs together, you try to find any sort of friction, aching for something to relieve the growing pressure.
A sinful sound vibrates from his chest when you bite down on his lower lip ever so gently. You have to admit, the thought of kissing him has crossed your mind more times than you can count. But now, standing here with the taste of him on your lips, you realize the reality is so much better than anything your imagination could have conjured.
He’s more intoxicating than any dream could ever be. Every touch sends a thrill through you that no fantasy could ever match. The way he knows exactly what you like leaves you yearning for more in a way that feels almost addictive.
Blair caws, cutting through the shadows of the night and announcing her arrival with impeccable timing. You both jolt, breaking apart as if the spell between you has been abruptly shattered.
“Ghoul evening, Blair,” Wooyoung mutters, his voice still thick with the lingering tension. He glances at the raven-like figure perched nearby, an amused glint flickering in his eyes. “It’s a good thing you arrived when you did,” he adds, his tone teasing. He looks down at you, pleased with how dissolved your shirt looks, how pouty your wet lips are from your nefarious activities.
He takes a step back, quickly smoothing down his hair and adjusting his clothes, his fingers lingering at his collar as he regains his usual composure. You, on the other hand, are still catching your breath, feeling the flush in your cheeks and the electric hum of the moment that lingers in the space between you.
Give me a little privacy to say goodbye, and I’ll give you extra treats for your late dinner, you say telepathically to Blair. She tilts her head, considering the offer, before finally cawing in agreement and taking off into the night, clearly satisfied with the deal.
“I want you to try something tonight,” Wooyoung murmurs, his voice low and full of mischief. His eyes glint with something dark and thrilling, sending a shiver down your spine. “When you’re alone in bed and everyone else is asleep…”
Your heart races while he speaks.
“I want you to pretend that your hands are my own, and I want you to touch yourself where you felt my magic earlier.”
“E-excuse me?” you stammer, your heart racing as you try to find the right words.
He grins, leaning in just enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him. “Trust me, you’ll like it,” he teases, his voice like velvet. “I need you to warm yourself up for me, so you’re ready to learn more tomorrow night. Will you do that for me?”
You nod, a shiver running across your skin as his words linger in the air.
“Now, get out of here and go feed Blair before you wake up tomorrow missing your eyes,” he adds with a playful smirk.
You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “Fine, see you later.”
“Yes, you will,” he says with a wink, watching as you turn to leave, his gaze heavy on you the entire way.
His words linger in your mind for the rest of the night.
It's now the witching hour, and your roommates are fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the potion you slipped into their bedtime tea. They never noticed the subtle, earthy undertones masking the spell’s effects, leaving them in a deep slumber for the next several hours.
It had to be done, the last thing you need is for one of them to wake and catch you in the act, especially while you're carrying out Wooyoung’s special request.
Under the safety of your blankets, you move quietly, as if any sudden movement could betray your secret. One hand begins to massage your breasts through your thin tank top, the other sliding down toward your pink panties.
Taking a deep breath, you open your legs, allowing your fingers to slip beneath the dampening fabric. After spreading your juices around, you rub your clit before slowly dipping your first finger into your slick entrance. The sensation is unfamiliar—neither bad nor uncomfortable, just something you're not used to. The pain of the stretch lingers, leaving a strange warmth that you can't quite place.
You close your eyes and pretend that Wooyoung is there with you. Swiftly, you begin to curl your fingers, simultaneously bucking into your hand. You picture him hovering over you, but the image clouds over, shifting into a different scene that becomes sharper.
Wooyoung is also in bed, with his hand wrapped around his exposed, thick cock, lazily pumping it. There’s something unsettlingly vivid about this image, as if it’s not just a product of your imagination. It feels real—too real. Gasping, you realize that he’s in your head, projecting himself, revealing his presence in a way that makes your heart race.
Then, as if he can sense that you've finally caught on to his wicked scheme, a dark smile tugs at the corner of his lips, the kind that makes your body’s temperature spike. “Are you touching yourself, like I asked you to?”
You suck in a sharp breath and nod instinctively, even though you know he can’t physically see you. But somehow, you sense that he knows.
“I bet you are,” he hums, closing his eyes while running his thumb over his pink head. He tosses his head back as he strokes himself, “I bet that tight little virgin cunt of yours needs some good stretching before she’s ready for me.”
Feeling the heat rising to the tips of your ears, they’re red from the weight of his words, like they’re wrapping themselves around you, pulling you deeper into his influence. The knot in your lower belly grows as you match your little finger thrusts to the speed of his hand pumps.
“Add another finger, honey, I know you can,” Wooyoung groans, his hand moving a little faster. “Look at how my cock aches to be sunk inside your sweet folds.”
You do as he commands. You’re panting at this point; completely zeroed in on his throbbing length while you climb towards bliss. The silent room fills with a sinful pattern of squelches from each thrust into your lush heat, and a divine sensation washes over you.
“Goddess, I’m about to make a mess,” he whines, a sound that you’ll never be able to forget. He stills, letting out another beautiful noise while his seed shoots out across his abs, some even on his dark silk sheets.
“That’s just a preview,” he grins devilishly, “Sleep well, Y/N.”
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"Many blessings," Father Blackmoor's voice rings out, reverberating through the towering trees of the Darkwood. "Tonight, we honor the Moon and her radiant beauty. Paired couples, please step forward to collect your basket."
You step forward cautiously, aware of Wooyoung’s presence close behind you. As your fingers brush the edge of the woven basket, Wooyoung’s arm reaches past you, his hand closing around it first. His body hovers briefly against yours, a faint smile curving his lips. Sucking in a sharp breath, you pull your hand back as your mind flashes back to last night, Wooyoung’s cock is still fresh in your mind.
"Each basket contains a ceremonial knife," Father Blackmoor continues, his tone solemn. "You will begin the rite by smearing your blood upon your partner's forehead. Then, you must drink the purification potion—the milky-colored vial—and consume the figs, symbolizing your unity. Under the moonlight, you will lie side by side until dawn, as a testament to your bond and in preparation for tomorrow’s Hunt."
His final words hang in the cool night air as the forest seems to hush in reverence for what’s to come. You glance up at Wooyoung, and his eyes are already on you, dark and unreadable, only reflecting the moonlight.
As the other couples start to spread out across the forest, Wooyoung’s hand finds yours, tugging you deeper into the woods. His steps are quiet, purposeful, as the towering trees close in around you both. Your attention snaps forward when you catch a glimpse of movement—there, not far ahead, the same fox-like creature you spotted by the willows. The realization dawns on you: it’s Wooyoung’s familiar.
The creature moves gracefully, leading the way through the underbrush, its magical fur shimmering under the pale moonlight. Wooyoung follows without hesitation, his gaze fixed on his familiar. You trail behind, curiosity building, as the creature guides you to a secluded clearing hidden deep in the Darkwood.
“Thank you, Vixen,” Wooyoung murmurs once you’ve arrived. The fox-like familiar halts briefly, then glimmers before fading into the air, leaving behind a trail of glowing embers that slowly dissipate into the night.
Your eyes scan the clearing, and you notice the scene in front of you—a circle of softly flickering candles arranged around a blanket spread across the forest floor. The air hums with quiet magic, thick with mystery and anticipation. Wooyoung turns to you, his eyes glinting in the candlelight, a mischievous yet unreadable expression crossing his face.
Wooyoung extends his hand to you, his touch firm yet gentle as he helps you step onto the soft blanket. With a single snap of his fingers, your clothes transform—yours into a sheer white nightgown, his into simple black pants, with his chest left bare, the candlelight casting shadows over his defined muscles.
“Ready to begin?” he asks, voice low, eyes holding a flicker of something dangerous yet enticing.
You nod, your breath catching for a moment. Reaching into the basket set down beside him, your fingers curl around the cool metal of the ceremonial blade. Together, your voices join in a low, rhythmic chant, weaving through the night air. The ritual words hang heavy between you as you press the blade to your finger, feeling the sharp sting as blood wells up. Stepping closer, you bring your hand to his forehead, smearing an upside-down cross on his tanned skin, the blood vivid against his complexion.
Without a word, you hand the blade to Wooyoung, your fingers brushing his in the exchange. He mimics your actions, the cool sting of the knife barely registering as he pricks his finger, marking your forehead with the same crimson anti-cross. The flames around you leap higher, responding to the magic building in your chant.
The moonlight glistens against his skin, bathing him in an ethereal glow as he lifts the purification potion from the basket. He drinks deeply, eyes never leaving yours, and then hands the vial to you. You take it from him, your pulse quickening as you lift it to your lips, the magic binding you both growing stronger with each word, each action.
His eyes darken; trailing over your nearly naked body. They land on your peaked nipples, and he lets out a deep exhale while his eyes are glued in place.
“Um, figs,” Wooyoung clears his throat, momentarily dazed, shaking his head as if to regain focus. He grabs one from the basket, handing you the other. You sink your teeth into the fruit’s tender skin, its bright red flesh spilling a sweet, rich juice onto your lips. A single drop escapes and trails down your chin, and you catch Wooyoung watching, his gaze lingering longer than usual. But he doesn’t say a word. Not yet.
You quickly wipe away the juice, trying to ignore the flush creeping up your neck. “So… what now?” you ask, your voice more uncertain than you intended. You’ve both completed the ritual, but the tension between you is undeniable. Neither of you has acknowledged last night’s activities, though you’re certain it’ll come up eventually. It has to.
He shifts slightly, his eyes scanning your face, and for a moment, it seems like he’s about to bring it up. His lips twitch into a half-smile, “I’ve got an idea or two.”
You’re not sure how it happened—one moment you’re standing, the next you’re lying beneath him. Wooyoung hovers above you, his arms on either side of your head, eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity. His body is close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, and your pulse quickens as his breath brushes against your skin.
Without notice, his lips crash down onto yours. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, moaning when your hands twist in his hair.
He presses his hips down into yours, letting you feel how worked up he’s already become.
“We're technically not supposed to do anything tonight,” Wooyoung says, his voice low and teasing once he pulls back. A mischievous glint sparkles in his eyes as he adds, “But a rule’s never stopped me before.”
You pull his head back down to yours, kissing him languishingly as he rolls his hips into yours again.
“Do you want to keep going?” he asks, this time pressing his length right up against your covered heat.
Wooyoung’s lips curl into a devilish smile when you whine incoherently about wanting more.
“Answer me, honey. Do you want more?” He asks with a growl, but the intensity in his gaze makes it clear—he already knows the answer.
“Yes,” you beg, “More. Please!”
He grabs handfuls of the fabric at your sides, bunching it up around your waist before he descends below.
Your dewy center is covered in a heavy coating of your arousal. Spellbound by the sight, he instinctively brings his fingers to your heat, gathering some of your transparent essence and smearing it around your folds.
“Fucking hell, you’re so fucking wet for me,” Wooyoung mutters.
Incapable of waiting any longer, he dives in tongue first, licking a beautiful line from your slit’s opening up to your needy nub of nerves. Another growl resounds from his chest as he devours your sex, his cock involuntarily twitching when he sinks two fingers back to your opening. Wooyoung strokes his saturated fingers through your slit before sinking them inside your soft flesh, feeling your inner walls clench around them.
He pulls them out and admires how your hole instinctively sucks his digits back in where they belong.
“Such a tight little cunt. It’ll be ruined by tomorrow night,” Wooyoung groans; despite his words, there’s nothing but appraisal in his voice. He looks up at your body, meeting your eyes. His flash with a dark dominance, lust with a dash of something else flicker in them.
His devilish words only excite you further, and more of your sticky arousal coats his hand. Each curl of his fingers brings you closer and closer to writhing pleasure.
His head dips back down, his tongue swirling around your clit before he sucks it between his teeth. Gasping, you buck your hips upward, needing more. So much more.
“I can’t wait to turn you into a nasty little whore. Would you like that?” he asks in between little licks.
“Y-yes” you mewl. “Wanna. Be your w-whore.”
He’s got you dancing along the edge of a very dangerous cliff, and you want nothing more than to jump off, face first, and dive into the waves of ecstasy that await.
He can tell that you’re close; your walls are beginning to tighten around him. Flattening his tongue against your sensitive nub, he applies the right amount of pressure you need to come all over his face.
When he sits up, his mouth is dribbling with your release; it’s a pretty sight to see.
“Not bad for a virgin,” he teases.
Your blissful smile turns coy, “Is it my turn to taste you? You’ll have to teach this virgin just how you like it.”
A deep, low growl vibrates in his chest and the corners of his jaw flex as he stands up, his silhouette outlined from the moonlight.
“On your knees then, slut.”
You twist your body until you’re sitting on your knees, your used cunt dripping onto the blanket below.
“Goddess, I’m so fucking hard for you,” Wooyoung grunts while pulling his pants down.
Freed from his pants, his cock springs out before bouncing momentarily, then stands erect in its full glory. You reflexively clench at the sight of him. It’s just as you remember it from last night.
Tightening his palm around his shaft, Wooyoung begins stroking himself before lining his tip up to your lips.
“Take just the head into your mouth,” he murmurs. “Just while you warm up to the feeling.”
You immediately wrap your mouth around him and a wave of precum leaks directly onto your tongue. Circling his thick tip, you get comfortable with the weight of him on your tongue, learning his taste.
“Such a good slut,” Wooyoung croons, causing your core to tremble from his praises.
One hand moves to hold your chin, angling your head to look up at him, “When you’re ready for more, take a deep breath and take in more of me.”
Hollowing your cheeks, you suckle on his head, letting more and more of him into your wet cave. You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, the tickling sensation causing him to jerk inside you.
Wooyoung tugs on your hair, softly at first, and then his fist wraps around the handful in his grasp. His impressive length fills your mouth, his immense girth cracking your jaw open with each gentle thrust.
Words of encouragement spill from his lips, giving you the confidence to suck in the final inch of his member.
Involuntarily, you gag around his cock when his thick head hits the back of your throat. Tears sting the corner of your eyes, falling soon after.
Without warning, his length surges into your throat and Wooyoung lets out a stream of colorful expletives as his release hits him. His hips jerk once more, and he tosses his head back underneath the moonlight.
You shudder, feeling his thick cum stick to the walls of your throat.
“Goddess,” he hums, “Sorry about that.” Wooyoung slips out of your mouth, admiring as you use the back of your hand, you wipe your soddened mouth.
“It’s okay. Now I know what to expect.”
Wooyoung pulls you into his embrace, and you both settle into the quiet rhythm of the night, staring up at the stars as they shimmer in the sky. His warmth surrounds you, grounding you amidst the cool breeze.
He shifts slightly, turning on the blanket to meet your gaze. “I need to warn you about tomorrow,” he begins, his voice lower, more serious. “The potion we warlocks take before the ceremony… it makes our animalistic instincts take over. It’s going to be rough. That’s why I’ve been preparing you, so to speak.”
A knot twists in your stomach at his words. You hadn’t realized the full extent of what tomorrow held, but now it makes sense. That’s why they call it the Hunt, you think, You’re basically their prey. The pieces finally click into place. His honesty, though jarring, makes you feel strangely grateful that he’s letting you in on something you weren’t aware of.
“I trust you,” you whisper softly. “You haven’t hurt me so far, so I’m not worried about tomorrow.”
Wooyoung’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He silently prays to Goddess Peralia that he won’t bring you any harm during the Hunt. The uncertainty flickers in his eyes for just a moment before he pulls you closer, wrapping you in his warmth.
“Come here,” he murmurs, his voice gentle as you settle against his chest. His heart beats steadily beneath your ear, and soon your breaths fall in sync, the sound of the wind rustling through the Darkwood easing you both into a peaceful silence.
As the stars twinkle above, the night’s calm surrounds you like a protective cocoon, lulling you into sleep. You drift into a deep, restful slumber, cocooned in his arms, feeling the peace before the inevitable storm of tomorrow.
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“The Insatiable Hunt begins,” one of the warlocks grins darkly before tossing back the elixir, the liquid shimmering as it slides down his throat. Wooyoung raises his glass in silent agreement, his eyes flashing with excitement before he gulps it down, feeling the fiery potion race through his veins. The others follow suit, the room buzzing as they prepare for the night ahead.
They pull on their wolf masks, transforming from men into primal hunters, instincts sharpening with every heartbeat. The thrill of the chase hangs thick in the air as they line up, muscles tensed, waiting for the doors to open.
Wooyoung’s body hums with the effects of the potion, a burning heat spreading through his skin. His senses sharpen—your scent lingers, intoxicating and irresistible. His pupils dilate as your essence floods his nostrils, every fiber of his being urging him forward. The others grin beneath their masks, but his focus is single-minded: you.
The doors creak open with a loud thud, unleashing them into the night. With a guttural growl, Wooyoung sprints into the woods, his feet pounding the earth as he follows your trail, the scent drawing him deeper into the Darkwood. His heart races, blood pumping with one singular purpose: to find you. To claim his prize.
Wooyoung moves like a shadow, effortlessly twisting and turning through the woods, his heightened senses guiding him closer to your trail. Each subtle shift in the air tells him you're near. He slows as he approaches a dense thicket, his instincts screaming at him to be cautious. He can feel you hiding, watching, waiting.
His cock strains when he catches a whiff of your scent, his hardened member straining against the tightness of his pants as it begs to bury itself deep inside of you.
His eyes narrow, hyper-focused on the faintest rustle of leaves. You dart from the bushes, sprinting through the underbrush, your breath quickening as you distance yourself from him. He follows silently, his steps deliberately soundless as he stalks you.
You duck behind a tree, pressing your back against its trunk, heart pounding in your chest. Straining to listen, you hear... nothing. No footsteps, no rustling—nothing. A chill creeps up your spine. Slowly, you peek around the tree, scanning the shadows. There’s no sign of him.
Relief barely has time to settle in before you turn back and scream.
He’s right there, inches away.
"Gotcha," Wooyoung growls, his voice low and menacing, his breath hot against your skin. With a wicked grin, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze as he slams your back against the rough bark of the tree. The impact sends a jolt through your body, your heart racing even faster now. His grip tightens, but not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who’s in control.
His eyes glint through the wolf mask with a dangerous mix of hunger and satisfaction, the thrill of the Hunt evident in every line of his expression.
Wooyoung's grip tightens, his breath hot against your ear as he growls, “I can’t wait to split you in half with my cock.”
Before you can react, he spins you around, pressing your chest against the rough bark of the tree. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his hands slide down your sides, firm and unyielding.
He blames his newfound animalistic behavior for how fast he rips away your crimson cloak and the layers beneath it, leaving the shredded fabric scattered across the mossy forest floor.
In one swift movement, Wooyoung uses a knee to spread your legs and sinks into your inviting opening without warning. Tears sting your eyes from the sudden intrusion, but the pain quickly turns into mind-shattering pleasure.
“Taking it so well, aren’t you, slut?” he purrs, voice low and dripping with praise. The raw, commanding edge in his tone sends shivers through you, your insides tightening around him in response.
You hum an incoherent response, unable to form words when his cockhead is pressed against the swell of your cervix.
After ripping his mask off, Wooyoung’s fingers press into your hips. He holds you steady as he moves, each thrust punctuated by dark whispers of just how perfectly he fits inside you.
Wooyoung’s grin brushes against your neck as he drags his tongue up the curve of your skin, leaving a lingering lick before pressing a kiss just below your ear. His hips pull back slowly, his length retreating from your slick folds until only the tip remains, teasing you.
Then, with a low growl, he thrusts forward, filling you entirely in one fluid motion, claiming every inch as he sinks deep inside.
The sudden motion causes you to moan uncontrollably, his girth continuing to stretch out your soft walls. Your soaked cunt splitting open around Wooyoung’s enormous girth only causes him to swell more, if that’s even possible.
“M-more, please!” you whimper.
Wooyoung clenches his jaw, feeling your wetness ooze out where your bodies meet with each quick thrust.
One of his hands squeezes your side, the other falls to your round ass, and his claw-like nails scratch across your skin before he pulls his hand back to spank you. Your vision blurs from the impact, and you push your hips out, asking for more.
“Again,” you whine, your head digging further into the tree’s bark.
You bite down on your lower lip, anticipation building as you brace yourself. A sharp crack echoes through the air as his hand comes down against you, harder this time and sending another sting that radiates through your skin.
A moan slips past your lips, the sharpness transforming into pleasure that courses through your body. His fingers trace the spot he’s just marked, his low chuckle rumbling against your ear.
"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice rich with approval, each word sending shivers through you. “Turn around. I want to look at you," he demands next, his voice gritting through his teeth.
You obey, slowly turning to face him, your heart racing under his intense gaze. His eyes roam over you, filled with a mix of hunger and admiration that makes you feel both vulnerable and exhilarated.
Wooyoung cups your chin, tilting your face up toward him. His thumb brushes over your swollen lips as he drinks you in. "Look at you," he whispers, almost to himself, his thumb slipping inside your mouth. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around it, meeting his gaze as you lightly suck, earning a dark smile from him.
"You're perfect," he murmurs, his free hand tracing down your body, grazing every curve and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "And you're all mine tonight." His words trail off as his length pounds into you again.
He watches as your lips part, head tilting back in pure bliss, and takes his chance. His mouth crashes onto yours, tongue slipping between your lips with a raw desire, claiming every inch he can reach. The kiss is deep and possessive, leaving you breathless as his hand tangles in your hair, keeping you close.
His tongue strokes against yours, tasting every gasp and moan you release, as if he’s memorizing the way you feel beneath him. You melt into his kiss, losing yourself in the heat, the way he consumes you with each movement.
When he pulls back, Wooyoung drags his lips against the shell of your ear to whisper, “Is this what you want? Your little virgin cunt destroyed?”
“Yes,” you moan, voice low and thick with desire. Then, locking eyes with him, you let a wicked smirk curve your lips, meeting his heated gaze with a look as dangerous as his own. "Ruin me," you breathe, each word dripping with a challenge that sends a spark down his spine.
A growl escapes his lips, and his grip on you tightens. He pushes you against the rough bark, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as his eyes darken with pure, animalistic hunger. “You want to be ruined?” he whispers, his voice a low rasp against your ear as he pulls your hips even closer. “Careful what you ask for.”
His thrusts come harder, relentless, each one leaving you trembling and gasping as he takes you to the edge, only to pull you back before you can fall. His hand slides up your throat, a possessive touch that’s somehow both gentle and commanding as his thumb grazes your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.
"You’re mine," he growls, eyes blazing, his body pressed against yours with no space left between you. He savors every inch of you, watching your face intently as he ravages you with a merciless rhythm, his fingers digging into your waist. “And I’m not stopping until you’re completely undone.”
Your moans grow louder, filling the night air and mingling with the rhythmic slap of your bodies moving in unison. The sounds echo through the Darkwood, a primal symphony that seems to resonate with the forest around you, intensifying with each frenzied thrust.
Wooyoung feels your walls clench tightly around him, a signal that you’re close to unraveling. “Cum around my cock, honey,” he rasps, his voice laced with possessiveness. “I know you’re close.”
He quickens his pace, pounding into you with a newfound urgency, while his fingers find their way to that sensitive spot between your legs. The moment his thumb and forefinger pinch your aching nub, pleasure spirals through you like wildfire.
You scream his name, your body seizing up as waves of ecstasy crash over you, each pulse flooding your veins with tingling heat.
He watches you intently, captivated as your face twists in bliss, feeling you squeeze around him, almost pulling him over the edge.
A low growl escapes his lips, and with two final, frenzied thrusts, he buries himself as deeply as he can, his abs contracting as he spills himself inside you. His teeth graze your bare shoulder, biting down as he rides out his release, filling you with a heat that leaves you both breathless.
“Oh, praise Satan,” he gasps, letting out a shaky laugh as he presses his forehead against yours. The two of you catch your breath together, heartbeats slowing, tangled in the afterglow.
You collapse entirely into his arms, utterly spent and trembling, every muscle deliciously exhausted as you sink into the darkness of sleep that lingers at the edge of your consciousness. A grin tugs at your lips, satisfaction mingling with exhaustion as you surrender to it, the night’s events replaying like a forbidden lullaby.
Nothing in your dreams could ever compare to the raw, disgraceful, dangerously addictive reality you’ve just experienced. Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you let go, falling into a slumber filled with echoes of his touch.
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The room is loud with the sound of laughter, clinking goblets, and whispered gossip. Candles cast a warm glow over the grand hall as platters of food float between the seated bodies; you're barely listening though, too hyper-aware of Wooyoung sitting beside you.
You steal a glance at him from across the table. He’s watching you, his gaze steady and unwavering. A secret smirk plays at the corner of his lips, one that makes your cheeks burn under the soft glow of the chandeliers. It’s almost unbearable, this tension simmering between you, each stolen look as dangerous as a spark near dry wood.
His fingertips graze yours under the table, sending a rush through you each time. You both know the game you’re playing—pushing boundaries, daring each other, waiting for one of you to make the next move.
Finally, he leans in, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Let’s get out of here.”
"We can’t just leave," you mumble, finally meeting his burning gaze. There's a warning in your eyes, but he ignores it, his grin only growing.
You bite your lip, glancing around at the oblivious faces around you. "It’s the middle of the feast," you continue, though your resolve is already faltering. "People will notice."
"Let them," he says, the mischief in his tone unmistakable.
He stands and takes your hand, his grip both gentle and possessive as he leads you out, weaving through the tables with a confidence that dares anyone to question him.
Whispers and side glances follow, and you try to ignore the burning stares—hungry warlocks with dark eyes, envious witches with guarded whispers.
Everything has changed.
Wooyoung’s presence grounds you, his thumb brushing reassuring circles against your skin. And when he glances back at you, tilting his head in that familiar way with a smirk tugging at his lips, you realize that somehow—despite all the chaos of this past week—some things aren’t so different after all.
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nostalgiclittlespace · 3 months ago
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My Guide to Chasing away the Sads
(TW: Depression, mentions of SH and ED)
Nest. Moving around takes energy but boredom is not your friend. Gather everything you’re going to want or need, and settle comfortably.
Have a sweet treat. I have a major sweet tooth, and dessert always manages to cheer me up. Indulge yourself!
If you don’t have the energy for anything I else, then it’s perfectly okay to scroll through social media or watch TV. However, if you feel up to engaging with your hobbies, I would recommend them over idle content, as they are more efficient in cheering up.
If you are more inclined to watch something, though, I recommend having a YouTube playlist dedicated to things that make you laugh. Shorts from comedians, animal videos, TikTok compilations, fandom animatics—absolutely anything.
Rewatch comfort shows and movies as well!
Learn something new. It’s so easy to fall into boredom and shame, but learning something new is a great and productive distraction. With YouTube and internet articles, it’s something you can do from bed too. I love researching my hyperfocuses, since they are a sure fire way to get the dopamine flowing again.
Make a vent work, such as fic, art, diary entry, or just an imagined story line. I do this all the time, just as a way to outlet and process my thoughts. There is something so therapeutic about it. To me, there is something incredibly therapeutic about personifying depression, watching a character who embodies myself work through trauma, etc
Talk to friends or family. Whether it’s for a distraction or support; talking to others is really important for mental health.
Just let yourself feel it. It’s okay if your regression is impure; there’s nothing wrong with processing and feeling your emotions. If you need to cry, have a tantrum—whatever. You are a strong and wonderful person, even when having negative emotions.
Just remember to take care of yourself during this time; even if you are feeling at your worst, you deserve love and kindness. Eat properly, drink enough water, sleep, etc.
If you are struggling with SH or an ED which are triggered during this time, it’s especially important to take care of yourself. You don’t deserve to hurt. You are worthy of love. Let that love start with loving yourself and keeping up with the body you’re in.
It’s the most overused line ever; but you aren’t alone. We have such an amazing community here, filled with people who experience a lot of the same things: regression, trauma, depression, anxiety, queerness, and so much more. You are strong and capable, and I’m so proud of you for making it this far. I love you and I’m sending you so many hugs and much encouragement your way. You got this, friend, and I’m here for you!!!
Love, Marty 💗
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sprenthecreator · 3 months ago
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IMPURITIES EP. 2 | Kirisute Gomen
Male reader x Sakura x Male character
word count: 8.3k words
tags: anal, face fuck, spitroast, dp
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━•✦•━•✦•━
For now, the incident in New York had remained just an anecdote; it hadn't affected your relationship with the girls, either positively or negatively. It had simply happened. Much of it was due to the fact that you were still on tour, and there was no time for trivial matters like that. «The show must go on». That's what you'd told yourself to avoid thinking about it.
Because if you were honest with yourself, every time you remembered that night, you got the urge to make it happen again. But your professionalism was stronger, as was your common sense. It wasn't you who should make that decision; it was them. And if they pretended for the moment that it hadn't happened, you would play along until they wanted it.
A week had passed since then. New York was followed by Washington, DC, and from there, the next stop was Atlanta. Your arrival had been at night. A relief for your body, as you were able to go straight to your room and sleep peacefully, with half your worries already resolved since you'd gotten ahead on your work during the trip.
But in the morning, the problems started.
You didn't know if it was the Atlanta air or something, but that morning everyone seemed to be in a bad mood. Including the girls. You weren't a person who got angry easily, but by midday, you were already feeling at your limit. The venue staff were all idiots. All of them. Not one was spared. And if that weren't enough, there were countless problems at the sound check that tested you as a manager, both your patience and your aptitude.
It didn't end there. The hotel staff were also incompetent idiots, and they also caused you more than one damn unnecessary problem. The most incredible thing was the fact that they had made a mistake in the room reservation, and it turned out Kazuha's room belonged to someone else. It was a huge fucking mess. The person, understandably, was as pissed off as you were. But when you discovered it was actually the Ritz-Carlton's fault, they were forced to solve the problem for you as quickly as possible.
The next day, thank goodness, the problems were minimal. The venue staff had taken note of every technical detail you'd pointed out and resolved them. They were still rude jerks, but at least they did their jobs well. Everything went wonderfully during the concert: impeccable sound, impeccable stage, impeccable logistics, and impeccable performances.
"Good job, yeoreobun!" you said aloud as the backup dancers and the girls left the stage after the encore, handing out bottles of cold water from a small cooler.
Everyone accepted the bottles and headed backstage after removing their in-ear microphones and the heaviest parts of their outfits. You stayed behind for a moment, talking with the production technicians and the setup staff to get everything settled before leaving the area and going backstage with the girls.
There was still a good while until your departure, since you had to wait for the entire dismantling process to be completed and for the girls to change and eat their respective snacks for that evening, as you always did after each concert. You had gone off to discuss some pending matters with the staff, and when it was getting close to time to leave, you returned to the girls.
"Hey, it's time gi..." You noticed something was off as you entered. One, two, three, four... "Uhm... where the hell is Kura?"
They looked at each other, and the common expression was one of ignorance. Of course, knowing them, you couldn't trust them. They already had a history of covering for each other. But it's likely that wasn't the case, and that she was just in the bathroom or something.
"Get your things together. I'll go get her."
The venue was a little bigger than you'd have liked for a search. It was a facility designed for theater productions, so the backstage area had multiple dressing rooms of different sizes at different heights, with the ones on the second floor being the smallest. Downstairs, there was no one, not even in the bathrooms. You hoped that with so many people circulating, someone had seen her, but apparently Sakura had inherited ancient techniques from her ninja ancestors and had used them to vanish. It was too strange, and you were panicking a little. Not too much. Just a little.
Upstairs, things weren't much different. The person you were asking was the person who had never seen a 180cm Japanese girl, blonde, beautiful, and with a body to die for. And you no longer felt panic, but despair. Everything was empty. You only had one dressing room left, and you were already feeling like throwing in the towel and calling HYBE to get a scolding.
Desperate, you placed your hand on the doorknob and opened it. It was pitch black inside; the hallway light wasn't shining in due to the arrangement of the lamps. You squinted—purely out of instinct, not because it would make a difference—and felt along the right wall for a light switch. Nothing there, so you moved to the other one. This time you had better luck. When you flipped the switch, however, you instantly regretted it.
"Oh my fucking god," you sighed.
Sakura, who had previously been hiding very still in the darkness, was pressing her hands against the right wall, her plaid shirt on the floor and her baggy jeans halfway down. Adam, one of the backup dancers for the tour, was standing behind her with his hands on her tiny waist. The compromising position they were in automatically made your blood pressure rise.
"Adam, get lost," you ordered, pointing your thumb outward. "I know the idea wasn't yours."
Adam gave Sakura a nervous glance and let go of her to walk past you and out of the dressing room.
"Are you crazy or something?" you asked as passive-aggressively as you could, while Kura pulled up her pants and grabbed her shirt from the floor. "We're in a fucking public place. Have you lost your fucking mind?"
Kura snorted and rolled her eyes.
"It was just going to be a quickie!" Kura protested with a frown, walking toward you. "No need to make a big deal out of it."
You chuckled in disbelief.
"No?" You raised your eyebrows. "What do you think would have happened if someone other than me caught you? Like, I don't know, someone on the cleaning staff. Word will spread like a freshly lit fuse. Let alone if someone on the damn staff found out!"
"I know!" She snapped, palms down. "Have you ever thought about how I've felt this whole week? With so much fucking shit going on at once. I know my body! I know I need it because I'm a human being, and I need that kind of thing!"
"Kura, it's risky!" You unintentionally raised your voice a little. The stress was taking its toll on you.
"It's the only way!" Kura raised her voice back.
"And against the damn rules!"
Kura couldn't help but laugh as if you'd told a joke. You frowned in confusion as she raised her eyebrows at you.
"Against the rules? You can't be serious."
"I'm so damn serious, Sakura."
"I don't remember hearing you talking about rules last week, manager-nim," Kura took a step toward you, standing two feet away. "When you fucked Yunjin and Chaewonie. Or did you forget my room was next to yours?"
Shit. No, you hadn't forgotten. In fact, you'd been mulling over the matter all week. Anxious about the possibility that she'd heard absolutely everything. You closed your eyes and let out a heavy exhale.
"For God's sake, tell me Eunchae didn't hear anything," you said before opening your eyes again.
"She didn't; she went to her room early. But I did hear you," Kura took another small step closer to you. Now close enough to be able to see her eyes in detail. "Please forget your position and fuck me like I'm all yours," she mimicked Chaewon, with the same moans in between. Then she laughed.
Your cheeks grew hot.
"Sakura, that was a special case," you said, trying to pull your feet out of the mud. "They broke the rules first. They offered me to keep them out of trouble in exchange for..."
"Fucking them?" Kura finished the sentence for you. "You agreed. You could have easily said no, right?"
"Well..."
Kura placed a hand over your mouth and stared at you with those big, pretty eyes.
"You have no excuse," she said, then took her hand away from your mouth. "You deliberately decided to do it. It's your fault."
"Still, it doesn't make it right," you sighed. "I don't want what just happened to happen again, because next time it won't be someone as lenient as me who catches you."
Kura was silent for a moment, as if calculating her response.
"Well, I'm sorry to say, manager-nim, I might keep doing it," she said, and looked you up and down. "Unless, of course, you help me yourself."
For God's sake, not again.
"No fucking way," you shook your head and took a step back. "I won't fall for the same game twice."
Kura closed the distance again and grabbed you by the back of your neck.
"Would you rather be caught by someone I can't bribe?" she asked, tossing both strands of hair behind her shoulders and puffing out her chest so you could notice her beautiful tits beneath her white top. "Or would you rather be the one in charge of satisfying this tight little body?"
Your eyes dropped to her tits, beautiful beneath that tight top, and then to her toned abdomen, with two small moles next to her belly button. You were going fucking crazy.
"Kura..."
"Go ahead, touch."
Kura took your hand and placed it on her tummy. Still trying to resist the temptation, you didn't move your hand, just kept your fingers still as she had you rub her abdomen. Then she had you slowly raise your hand to place it on her right breast.
"Squeeze," Kura murmured.
"Sakura..." you repeated, wanting her to see reason. But from the convinced look in her eyes, you guessed it was too late.
"Squeeze, manager-nim," she insisted.
Against your own better judgment, you did so. But you didn't regret it. Her breast felt soft beneath your fingers, and with the first squeeze, you immediately gave it a second, slightly harder one. Kura's lips curved into a slight smile, and she lowered her own hand to the bulge in your pants to give it a gentle squeeze.
"Do you like it?" Kura asked, rubbing your cock up and down with the palm of her hand. "Well, if you want to have me all to yourself... you'll have to compete with Adam to see if you can fuck me better than him."
"You're in no position to set conditions, Miyawaki," you said, and released her breast. "I could just turn around, walk away, and pretend this didn't happen."
"You could, but you're not going to," Kura countered. "You don't want to. Besides, look how hard you are."
Kura removed her hand so you could see. Your bulge was prominent and hard, easy to notice since you were wearing sweatpants that day.
"Ah fuck," you groaned, annoyed. Sakura, isn't there a better way to solve this?"
"You want to nip this problem in the bud and prevent it from happening again, don't you?"
You pursed your lips, huffed, and stared up at the ceiling. For God's sake, what had you done to deserve such an insolent group of girls? It was as if they were competing to see who could test your patience the best and fastest.
"Your room or mine?"
Kura smiled.
"Mine. I'll tell the girls I'll be sleeping so no one comes near."
"You know Zuha's room is two rooms away, right?"
"That girl will be playing games or listening to music or something. She's the one you least need to worry about."
"Whatever. Let's get out of here. They're waiting for us."
You turned around, turned off the dressing room light, and left with Kura.
The excuse Kura had given the other girls—which you confirmed they indeed knew nothing about her escapade with Adam—was that she got lost in her search for a bathroom. You weren't sure how well the lie had gone down, but no one asked too many questions about it since the venue was large enough to be believable.
You arrived back at the hotel around 10 p.m.
"Girls, please make sure you get enough sleep," you said as you entered the lobby. "The flight to Dallas is early in the morning, and I don't want to see any bags under your eyes. The good thing is that in Dallas you'll have two days off."
The girls nodded without much protest, happy to sleep early since they were visibly exhausted. They went straight up to their rooms, while you stayed behind helping the staff unload things from the vans. From there, you went up as well and took a quick shower before heading to Kura's room.
Outside, right in front of her door, you took a moment to think carefully about what you were going to do. You had allowed yourself to get carried away with Yunjin and Chaewon because specific circumstances had arisen and it was practically impossible for you to refuse the seduction of those two vipers, but now you had time to think about it.
But as you did, you couldn't stop thinking about how good Kura's breast felt under your hand, and how firm and tight her tummy was.
Fuck it. You only live once. And you were already horny.
You knocked on the door twice.
"Come in!" Kura said after a few seconds.
You opened the door, and upon entering, your mouth immediately watered. On the couch directly across from the door and by the window, Kura was lying on her side, in nothing but a pretty cream-colored bra and panty lace set. Every corner of her body was insane: wide hips, tiny waist, beautiful legs, toned tummy, and even nicer tits.
"Hello, manager-nim," Kura said in a seductive tone, leaning on her elbow with her cheek resting on her hand. "Come here. Adam should arrive any moment."
Kura sat up and waited for you to sit next to her before straddling your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck, and crashing her lips against yours, not even giving you time to say or do anything.
As your lips became entangled in a fiery exchange of saliva that didn't cause you the slightest remorse, you left your hands on her small waist and gripped your fingers there. Kura ground her hips against you, rubbing herself against your growing bulge. Her right hand moved up to the nape of your neck and stroked the hair there, then slid both hands to your shoulders. Your cock hardened beneath her, and Kura placed a hand on your chest, lowering it and inserting it inside your sweatpants and boxers, firmly grasping your cock between her fingers to rub it.
"Hmm, you're already throbbing for me, manager-nim," Kura moaned against your lips. "I'm going to undress you. Can I undress you?"
"At this point, do whatever you want, Miyawaki," you replied.
Kura slipped her hand from inside your pants and used both hands to pull your hoodie over your head and off. She then climbed off your lap as you took off your shoes, and knelt on the floor between your knees to remove both your sweatpants and boxers. Her round eyes shone like two beautiful street lights in winter as she freed your cock.
"Oh wow," Kura gasped, and planted her mouth on the back of your cock to kiss and lick all the way to the tip. "You're bigger than you look, manager-nim."
"And you're sluttier," you countered.
Kura smiled, wrapped two fingers around the base of your cock, and swirled her tongue around the tip a few times while looking into your eyes.
"You're right about that," she said. "I may be small and nerdy, but I love a good cock in my mouth and in my pussy. Especially in my pussy."
With that, Kura took you into her mouth, moaning as she took the first few inches between her lips until she reached your midsection. Then she began pumping her head at a slightly rapid pace, pulling you out of her mouth every few seconds to lick and kiss around your tip. As the seconds passed, she sped up, until she was slurping saliva from your shaft.
"Mmm, you're delicious," Kura gasped, moving her hand down your cock and spreading her saliva over it. "Would you help me with my underwear, manager-nim?"
She didn't need to say much more before you stood up, took her hands, and helped her stand up. You wrapped an arm around her waist and laid her down on the bed. You positioned yourself on top of her and intertwined her hands with yours, planting kisses on her neck. From there, you moved wet kisses down her collarbone, and when you reached her breasts, you slid your hands under her back to unclasp her bra and free her very, very pretty breasts.
Without her prompting, you took one of them to your mouth. Kura gasped and placed both hands on your head. She twisted strands of your hair around her fingers, gently tugging as you swirled your tongue around her nipple. Moving to her other breast, you took as much of it into your mouth as you could and sucked on it, licking her hard nipple with the tip of your tongue. Kura, aroused, shifted subtly beneath you, arching her back and grinding against your body.
When you left a trail of saliva on each breast, you allowed yourself to move down to her tummy. Her tight, attractive, firm tummy. Kura moaned when you pressed your lips there and showered it with kisses you were sure you enjoyed more than her. You held her by the waist, moving your kisses down to her lower abdomen and moving closer to where the skin parted with the fabric of her panties, which you grabbed by the hem and slowly pulled down her legs.
"Are you going to eat my pussy, manager-nim?" Kura asked, a finger on her lower lip. "Adam isn't here yet. This is your perfect opportunity to get a little advantage."
"Say no more then."
You took Kura's legs behind her knees and spread them side to side. In front of your face, her beautiful pussy was glistening with wetness. It looked like a real delight, and you didn't hesitate for a second to plant your mouth there and taste it.
The sweet moan Kura emitted when you began licking and kissing between her soft folds sweetened your hearing. Her pussy was delicious. Instantly addictive. You breathed deeply, letting your hunger for her take over so that she would love every second you spent eating her pussy. Within seconds, the room was filled with moans from the petite Japanese girl, who had one hand stroking your hair and the other on her own breast.
"Fuck, you're incredible, manager-nim," Kura moaned, squirming her hips as you gave her clit quick licks.
Your only response was to keep going, looking up every few seconds to watch as you made her melt with pleasure. Kura gave you a harder tug, and she arched her back as you pressed her thighs back and attacked the sensitive spots her moans indicated.
"Right there," Kura sighed, her thigh muscles tensing beneath your fingers. "Oh yes, yes!"
Kura tightened her fingers in your hair and pressed you even harder against her pussy, practically suffocating you against it. Seconds ticked by, and she began to tremble. Until with a loud moan, Kura closed her thighs on either side of your head, arched her back, and came in a series of spasms that gave you an immense satisfaction.
And just then, three knocks were heard at the door.
Kura's thighs moved away from your head, allowing you to lift it. Kura turned sideways to face the door.
"Adam?" Kura asked aloud.
"Who else could it be at this hour?" Adam replied from the other side of the door.
"Come in!"
When Adam walked in and saw the situation you were in, his face turned pale. He quickly closed the door and looked down, embarrassed not by seeing Kura naked, but by seeing you naked. You also had a sneaky suspicion he had no idea you were going to be there at that moment after catching them both early.
"Not a single fucking word of this to anyone, or I swear I'll find out," you told Adam in a perfect English that you knew he understood. "And act like a normal guy, for God's sake. I won't make fun of you if you have a micro-dick."
Adam nodded silently and finally looked up at Kura.
"You're late," Kura said, kneeling on the bed to reach the edge and pull Adam up by his shirt. "Someone already got a little ahead of you."
Kura kissed him before he could excuse himself. Adam didn't protest and wrapped his arms around her. You stayed on the sidelines for a moment, lying on your side and staring only at her back and ass. You understood that the one in charge there wasn't you, but her. So you were going to limit yourself to acting only when she ordered it, directly or indirectly.
Adam's clothes were on the floor in mere seconds. Kura rubbed his cock until it was hard, lowering her lips to his neck and then his chest. She slowly moved her knees back, bending so she could reach his lower torso until she was resting on her hands, her ass raised and her knees apart.
When Kura took Adam's cock in her mouth and shook her ass, knowing you were watching, you knew it was time to get back into the action.
You knelt behind her and placed your hands on her buttocks, squeezing them both. Then you lowered your right hand between them and rubbed her pussy slowly before inserting a finger. Kura moaned with Adam's cock in her mouth. After a few pumps, you inserted a second finger, both with the tips facing down to stimulate her pussy walls as you moved your wrist.
Kura picked up the pace, pumping her lips against Adam's cock with her hands gripping his thighs. He just kept panting, one hand on Kura's head and the other behind his back. The guy wasn't paying you the slightest bit of attention, which you certainly appreciated. The last thing you wanted was to feel uncomfortable because he couldn't just ignore you being there.
Your cock throbbed against Kura's left buttock, aching from how much you needed relief for yourself. So after a few quick pumps with your fingers, you pulled them out and positioned yourself to replace them with your cock, slowly inserting it into her extremely tight pussy. Kura stifled a moan around Adam's cock and pulled it out of her mouth to look at you over her shoulder.
"How does my pussy feel, manager-nim?" Kura asked with a moan, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes as you took every inch inside her.
"Fucking unreal," you gasped, once you were all the way inside her pussy.
Unreal was definitely the best word to describe it. It was the second time in a week that you'd been inside one of the girls you managed, and you didn't know how to feel about it. All you knew was that those three pussies felt like heaven, and their naked bodies were beautiful sculptures that invited you to admire them all night.
And fuck them all night.
With your hands on her tiny waist, you began to move slowly, watching your cock go in and out of her grippy pussy. Kura brought Adam's cock back to her mouth, now moaning around it with each gradually faster pump, growing frantic as you went harder.
"Adam, fuck my mouth," Kura asked after a gasp, jerking him off as you moved with hard thrusts.
Adam gathered Kura's hair behind her head and held it in a ponytail with his left hand. A moment later, he began pumping his hips, close to the rhythm you were setting yourself. Kura couldn't take it all in her mouth, so she was soon gagging on his cock. Despite that, Kura seemed to be enjoying every second, her head still and her pussy clenching around your cock.
Your grip on Kura's waist tightened, and your jaw tensed as you doubled your efforts. A few seconds later, her buttocks became your focal points; you squeezed both of them as you pounded her pussy as hard as you could. Kura moaned again and again, her saliva spilling down her chin and onto the sheets as Adam added fuel to the fire.
Adam now moved to grip Kura's ponytail with both hands, both very close to her scalp, thus pulling harder. On your side, you gave Kura a light spank on her left buttock, making her grunt with pleasure. Her pussy suffocated your cock exquisitely, signaling that she was close to cumming. It finally happened when, after a few more pumps and spanks, Kura squealed with Adam's cock in her mouth and thrust her hips back, her body writhing in spasms.
Kura placed a hand on Adam's lower abdomen and made him stop once her orgasm went away.
"Switch roles," she said, panting. "And put in the effort. I'm testing you with every single thing you do."
Just what you needed. Years of studying and working hard to get to where you were, only for more fucking tests. Great.
Adam pulled out of Kura's mouth, and you pulled out of her pussy. Kura then turned around and lay on her back, her head hanging off the edge of the bed. You climbed off and knelt in front of Kura's face. Meanwhile, Adam climbed onto the bed and knelt between Kura's open legs. He entered her pussy, and you entered her mouth.
Kura took as much of your cock as she could, which was roughly a few inches past the middle of your shaft. You placed your right hand on her pretty neck, slowly beginning to fuck her mouth. Adam had her held behind her knees, both pressed against her body. He wasn't as gentle as you; he was going just as hard as he had been a few seconds ago, even though Kura must still be sensitive.
A little less than a minute passed when you decided to pump as the situation demanded, causing Kura to choke on your cock. Her lips were as closed as possible around your cock, but when she felt overwhelmed, she finally opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, allowing you to use her however you wanted.
Kura, being fucked hard by Adam, tried to moan around your cock, but only gagging sounds came from her mouth. Her saliva pooled inside, soon spilling out and dripping onto her cheeks. Then you increased your speed, fucking Kura's mouth with your clenched teeth and your hands gripping her tits.
Soon, everything reached a breaking point when Kura gripped the sides of your thighs and dug her nails into them as she came again. As Adam slowed down, Kura slapped your thigh a few times, and you pulled out of her mouth. She took a sharp intake of air.
"You're not allowed to cum inside me until I say so," she said, heavily gasping. "Go on, but do it outside."
When you came back inside her mouth, Kura squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt not to cough as you gagged her with your cock. Adam resumed his thrusts, now bent forward with his fists resting on the mattress. Focused on your own pleasure, you and he fucked both holes vigorously. You were the first to feel the tingling, and you immediately pulled out of her saliva-dripping mouth to stand up and masturbate over her tits.
When you came and your semen began to fall in long strips onto Kura's tits, Adam also pulled out of Kura to stroke his cock, aiming for the Japanese woman's tight abdomen. It took seconds for Kura to become a perfect canvas for the two of you, covered in cum on both areas of her body.
The scene seemed like the perfect ending to a night for many. You might even say it was dream-like. But you knew Kura wasn't satisfied with that, and that the fun had just begun. You confirmed it when she sat up, looked at her cum-covered areas, and looked at you as if nothing had happened.
"Get some toilet paper, manager-nim," Kura ordered, pointing. "I'm not done with you two yet."
Clearly.
In a show of unconditional obedience, you immediately turned around and went to the bathroom to grab the toilet paper roll, gather some around your hand, and throw it to Adam. A minute later, Kura's previously stained body was spotless again after a little cleaning. Just in case, you left the toilet paper roll on the nightstand to the right of the bed.
Anticipating Kura's next move, you and Adam both knelt on either side of her. Kura sat back on her heels and brought both hands to your sides to cup your balls and play with them, gently squeezing and massaging them. She went first to your side and carefully brought your limp cock to her mouth, sucking it slowly with a perfect use of her tongue that made you shudder. Then, while jerking you off with her hand, she moved to Adam's cock to repeat the process.
"Sorry if you're still a little sensitive," Kura lamented after removing Adam's cock from her mouth. "But I need these cocks hard."
Masturbating you both, Kura gently pulled you together and brought your cocks as close together as possible without touching, using her tongue to swirl around your tips while massaging your balls. After a few seconds, she took you into her mouth again. Just a little while each. Until after a few delicate sucks, both cocks were covered in a thin layer of saliva and throbbing.
"Manager-nim, lie on your back," Kura said, then looked at Adam. "You'll sit over there until I say so. You can touch yourself if you want. But don't you dare cum, or I'll send you back to your room with your balls tied with nylon."
Damn. That was messed up.
Adam got out of bed and sat right on the middle seat of the couch, while you lay down with your head resting on the pillow on the right side of the bed. Kura crawled on top of you, her knees on either side of your torso, and kissed you, her tits pressed against your chest. You wrapped your arms around her small frame, one around her waist and the other across her back, feeling her slightly sweaty skin beneath your fingers. Not long after, Kura grabbed your cock and impaled herself on it with a muffled moan against your lips.
Kura began to move her hips in her own rhythm: slow, deep, twisting her hips every time she went down. It felt incredible for you, but it must have felt even better for her. Her hands cradled your face as she kissed you, and you felt her breathing become heavier against yours. You prowled her body with your hands, running them up and down the sides of her torso until you moved down to her ass and squeezed it. Only then did Kura decide to go a little faster.
The need to moan louder made Kura break the kiss and hold onto your shoulders, moving her face a few inches away from yours so she could look into your eyes. Her pretty face was blushing again. She then straightened her back slightly, lowering her hands to your chest to bounce her ass against your cock. It was a skillful control of her buttocks that you certainly didn't expect from her.
"My god, since when can you move like that?" you gasped, moving your hands to her waist. Then you moved one to her right breast.
"I may not be an excellent dancer, but I know how to use my body to my advantage," Kura replied, and moved a hand up your collarbone until you brought two fingers inside her mouth. You sucked on them without hesitation, making her lips curl into a small, satisfied smile.
With her fingers still inside your mouth, Kura planted her feet on the bed and began bouncing on your cock, hard and fast to make it enjoyable for both of you. You noticed your cock making her tight belly bulge, which drove you wild. Kura bounced faster and faster, pumping her fingers in and out of your mouth until she pulled them out, grabbed your chin, and with a hard push down, she came.
Kura collapsed against you and kissed you again, muffling her moans against your lips as she slowly moved her hips up and down. Her tight pussy, contracting around your cock, made you moan as well, in the middle of the kiss. You squeezed each of her buttocks hard, helping her move until her orgasm passed and she climbed off of you.
"Adam, come here. Manager-nim, you know where to go."
Unfortunately, you did.
Reluctantly, you stood up as Adam returned to the bed. You went to sit on the right side of the couch, watching as Adam lay on his back in the center of the bed, stacking two pillows under his head. Kura straddled him, and followed the same process as with you before impaling herself on his cock.
Before Kura came while riding you, you already felt like you weren't going to last much longer, so you decided not to play with yourself too much so you wouldn't return to your room with your balls tied with nylon, just enough to stay hard while you watched the scene unfolding a few feet away from you.
Kura didn't start slowly like she did with you, now considerably hornier than she had been a few minutes ago when she was just refueling her engine. She was going at a slightly faster pace from the start, her hands on Adam's collarbone and her face buried in his neck, peppering it with kisses and hickeys. Adam had his hands around her waist, but didn't seem about to move them anytime soon. He, much to your chagrin, was as still as a mannequin.
But that was to your advantage. If Kura found him boring, you'd end up winning the competition.
Wait a minute, what the hell were you thinking? Were you really that eager to win the pseudo-competition Kura was setting up for herself? You were supposed to be more self-conscious about it; if you won, it would mean that woman would seek you out week after week for sex. That might have seemed ideal, but it wasn't all roses. Yunjin and Chaewon were also lurking hungrily. For now, you were safe, but as soon as you had some free time without worries, you were sure those two would hunt you down like an owl hunts a rabbit in the middle of the night.
And you were thinking of putting another predator on your neck? Had you gone fucking crazy?
No. The truth was, no matter how you tried to convince yourself—with convincing and more than logical arguments—that this was a terrible idea, you were letting your heart win over your brain, because it was impossible to resist those women. No matter how you looked at it. They were always going to win.
A louder-than-usual moan brought you out of your reverie. Refocusing, you saw Kura squatting on Adam's cock. Adam had his hands under Kura's thighs, somehow encouraging her to bounce harder. That was absurd. He thought he could twist the tables to try and gain some control, but Kura was very confident in what she was doing, making sure her body language made that clear without her having to say anything.
The big fumble came, in your opinion, when Kura brought her fingers to Adam's mouth, hoping he would suck them like you. But Adam hesitated and hesitated, until Kura gave up and grabbed him by the neck. She didn't say a word, and she bounced hard just the way Adam wanted her to. They both moaned in unison, and Kura was the first to cum.
You expected her to get off Adam once she stopped shaking, but she continued bouncing on his cock.
"Let me know when you're about to cum," you heard Kura mutter.
She kept bouncing, aiming to get Adam off as soon as possible. Adam gestured not long after, giving Kura the signal. Then, she quickly got off him and then off the bed. Adam frowned in confusion.
"H-huh?" Adam propped himself up onto his elbows, watching Kura walk around the bed to join you on the couch and sit on your right.
"Masturbate and cum on your own," Kura said, not looking at him, her tone of disdain implicit. "Consider it your punishment."
"Punishment for what?!" Adam demanded to know, watching Kura press herself against the side of your body, one thigh draped over yours.
"I don't know, you tell me," Kura replied, her eyes fixed on you, spitting into her hand as she brought it to your cock and stroked it quickly. You wrapped your arm around her body and grabbed her by the waist to hold her closer to you.
"Ugh, damn!"
Adam had no choice but to take care of himself, closing his eyes so he could focus again.
Kura had her full attention on you, her eyes carefully observing every tiny twist in your movements as she moved her wrist at full speed, making you tense your glutes and curl your toes. Her hand slid easily over your sloppy shaft, with practically no friction. You turned your head to look at her, and all it took was the sight of her biting her lip to make you explode.
You bucked your hips and moaned as Kura jerked you through your orgasm. Jets of cum shot out, staining both your abdomen and her hand. Your eyes were closed, but you could hear Adam moaning from the bed, probably having cummed too.
Kura kept moving her hand, amused by your squirming. She paused for a moment, only to resume keep moving it a second later. Seeing you squirming again, she let go of your cock with a giggle and settled back on the couch to bend down and clean you with her tongue herself, under the jealous gaze of Adam, who had also made a mess of himself but was forced to clean you with toilet paper instead of the tongue of a sexy Japanese woman.
After cleaning you, Kura took you into her mouth and finished the job, giving you slow, gentle sucks to leave your cock gleaming again.
Kura sat back on her heels and leaned closer to your ear.
"You're ahead by a landslide," she whispered. "All that's missing is a mere formality to cap it off. So don't screw up."
"Having a blast, huh?" you whispered back. "I've lost count of how many times you've cum."
"It's been a while since I've had this much fun, yeah. And that's your fault. So just accept the consequences."
"My fault? I'm just following orders. If it were up to me, I'd leave you all stranded in the rain," you joked.
Kura raised her eyebrows and let out a laugh of disbelief.
"Hey! What nonsense are you talking about?!" Kura nudged you in the shoulder, making you laugh. "Do you want me to kill you?"
"You're going to kill me from stress one of these days. No need."
Kura rolled her eyes, shook her head, and stood up to face Adam, arms akimbo, her weight on her right knee.
"You can continue, right?" Kura asked. "I hope you learned your lesson."
"Sakura, I still don't know what I did to deserve punishment," he replied, sitting with his back against the headboard. "And yes. I can continue."
"Great, because I have one last little surprise for you," Kura pointed to her backpack, leaning against the side of the bed. "Open the front pocket and take out what's inside."
Adam leaned down and opened the pocket. From it, he took out a small, unopened bottle of lubricant. The shape of the bottle made it look like a perfume.
"Oh wow," Adam raised his eyebrows, reading the label on the bottle. "Uberlube silicone-based lube…" he looked at Kura. "Very naughty of you."
"Give me that."
Kura took the bottle from Adam's hands and moved her legs apart so she could lie on her back on the bed. She spread her legs, her pussy facing you, and beckoned you with her finger. You did so, kneeling to her left. Adam did the same on the opposite side.
"You're going to finger me. Both of you. At the same time," Kura said, removing the cap from the bottle and pressing the spray bottle against her palm several times until it was full of lube. No one could tell you that shit didn't look like a bottle of perfume. "You can do that, right? Or do your fingers need a break too?" She then brought the lube-filled hand to her pussy, sliding her palm down to her butthole and back up.
"No, Miyawaki, our fingers don't need a break," you retorted, taking the bottle from her.
"Great. You'll take my ass," Kura told you, then looked at Adam. "And you'll take my pussy. Be good boys, and I'll reward you before we move on to the final act."
With the bottle of lube in your hand, you grabbed Kura's leg and hooked it behind her knee to the left side of your body. Then you filled your fingers with lube, tossed the bottle to Adam, and brought them to her butthole to play with it superficially, tracing the outline and rubbing it up and down. Adam did the same with his fingers, and unlike you, he put them directly inside Kura's pussy after a few brief rubs.
Kura moaned as the first two fingers entered her, followed by one more. You slowly inserted your middle finger into her tight butthole, moving it around to stretch the hole a little before adding your ring finger. Kura held your arm with her hand, her face slowly twisting in pleasure as both pairs of fingers began to pump in and out of her.
"Oh yeah, I can already begin to imagine how that's going to feel," Kura moaned, holding you both with your trembling legs wide open.
Adam finally did something good for his own neck and poured more lube between Kura's legs, making it easier for both of you. Soon the room was filled with the wet sound of fingers going in and out of those two wet holes at full speed. Kura began to squeal like she hadn't all night, overwhelmed by the new sensation.
"Yes yes yes! Keep going, don't stop!" Kura whimpered, arching her back. When seconds later she came between violent spasms, she looked up at you with teary eyes. "MORE!"
"Jesus, girl. Are you made of steel or what?" you asked, impressed by her durability.
"I haven't had orgasms this good in YEARS, so just shut up and keep going!" Kura demanded, digging her nails into your elbow.
More scared to death than anything else, you and Adam continued pumping your wrists nonstop until Kura came again, now with a few tears running down her cheeks and her whole body shaking.
"God... god..." Kura gasped, her chest rapidly rising and falling. "Both of you, stand at the edge of the bed."
Your fingers left Kura's body, and you stood where Kura indicated. The Japanese woman then turned toward you and leaned on her elbows, extending her feet toward each cock, rubbing them up and down. You also didn't find the skill she had with her feet surprising. But damn, she did an incredible job getting you hard in a matter of seconds, caressing your balls and tips until you were throbbing.
"Reward earned," Kura said. "Now come here and use both of my holes."
Adam was quick to move to the bed with her, lying on his back and pulling her on top of him. Kura positioned herself on top of him, her knees at either side of his waist, just as Adam grabbed his cock and guided it into her pussy. You climbed onto the bed as well, kneeling over Adam's left thigh so you could get a good angle behind Kura and, after lubing up your cock, press the tip against Kura's other hole. Her ass yielded relatively easily, swallowing inch by inch of your shaft until it was completely filled.
"Oh my god," Kura lay very still, her eyes closed, both cocks buried to their full length inside her. "Don't move. It feels... oh fuck. Use me. Fuck me hard."
You and Adam got to work, both of you pumping slowly at first. Adam had her by the waist, his fingers firmly pressed there, and you had your hands on both of Kura's ass cheeks, spreading them to the sides to watch on full display as your cock slid in and out in a deliciously hypnotic way from that ass, which was even tighter than her pussy. Kura went completely wild, not knowing where to hold on. Her moans weren't that loud, but you knew it was only a matter of time before she started making a scene. No sooner said than done, Kura began to scream as you and Adam began thrusting faster and harder, instinctively covering her mouth so as not to alarm whoever passed by outside the room.
Her beautiful platinum-blonde hair soon acted as your grip point. You pulled it into a messy high ponytail, pulling her neck back to slam your pelvis against her ass. Adam wasn't far behind and wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly and pumping his hips as hard as they could in that position.
"So good, oh my god!!" Kura groaned, clawing at Adam's chest. "Mmmgh!!"
Kura came in a violent maelstrom of spasms that made every part of her slim, toned body tense. More tears fell down her cheeks, more whimpers that evoked pure pleasure. She clung to Adam's shoulders, her hips twitching as you pumped considerably slower.
"Sw... switch holes," Kura managed to say in a small voice. "Manager-nim, stand up and carry me."
You pulled out of Kura's ass and helped her off of Adam, taking her hand as she climbed off the bed with you. Kura wrapped her arms around your neck and jumped up so you carried her in the air, her legs wrapped around your torso. Adam got off the bed and stood behind her, and then he entered her ass and you entered her pussy.
Kura's head fell back and her eyes rolled back as she began to be fucked in both holes again. Her fingers clutched at your hair, and you held her behind her knees as you slammed her pussy harder and harder. A few seconds later, with Adam now also mercilessly drilling her ass, Kura dropped back to rest her back against Adam's chest, her left hand clamped around your neck and her right hand on Adam's head. She came in record time, making it difficult for you to keep her still in the air.
"Cum inside me!" Kura whimpered in the midst of her orgasm. "Fill every corner of my tight holes, please, please!"
Those magic words were like music to your ears, because you'd been longing to do so for quite some time now.
Adam was the first, cumming inside her with a primal growl that made him sound like an animal. Kura's eyelids fluttered as she felt the first load inside her, and her eyes rolled back when, a few seconds later, you exploded inside her pussy with a loud moan.
"Oh yes..." Kura sighed, her head resting on Adam's shoulder, feeling you shoot your entire load into her sweltering pussy, which throbbed around your cock. "I feel so full... so good."
You and Adam pulled out of her pussy seconds later. Both of your thick loads fell to the floor, dripping steadily until they ended up in small pools on the carpeted floor.
Kura, still panting, raised her head to look at you and then at Adam.
"I... I need to sleep. Clean me up and leave me in bed," she said, her hair messy and sticking to her face with sweat.
You stepped back and led her to the bed. Adam and you grabbed toilet paper and cleaned up your respective messes. When Kura was clean and under her blanket, you both got dressed, ready to go. Adam left first after saying goodnight, but before you could, Kura grabbed your wrist and made you lean in to whisper something in your ear.
"Needless to say, you won, manager-nim" she said. "But you better get ready, because you just earned yourself a very thirsty Yokai. God bless you."
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s4pphicghost · 1 month ago
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a very impure thought but. can’t help myself. MDNI
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her dark burgundy lips deliciously wrapped around your strap, her eyes full of burning desire and lust as she looked up at you, dark eyebrows slightly furrowed in the overwhelming need. her hands hold your thighs tightly, sharp nails pleasantly digging into sensitive skin, but even this sensation is clouded by the lovely, sexy picture in front of you. she takes it deeper and deeper, so ridiculously slow that you even worry about her comfort at first, but then you realize that she is deliberately teasing you. occasionally sticking out her wet soft tongue, running it along the length with the same unbearably low speed. but you don’t feel the plastic, right? then why is there this aching desire to speed up?
so you do. your hands caress her head gently with false praise, slowly moving further through her hair and then pressing slowly, forcing her to take you even deeper. she doesn't complain, of course not. obediently closing her eyes, she begins to move faster herself. your lips, parted for deep breathing, twitch in a smirk — her ability to take a strap so deep into her throat pleasantly surprises you.
"yes.. fuck, you're perfect.."
of course, you’d love to say how pleasant her hot and wet mouth feels, how sweetly her swollen lips squeeze the length, but alas.
however, just the look she gives you when she gazes up, the way her pupils swallow you whole, her wet lips, with increasingly smudged lipstick, makes your pussy get wet instantly, makes your clit throb from bitter injustice. when your hips join the movement, it spreads across the room — the amazingly arousing sound of her mouth swallowing the toy. you involuntarily let out a moan, your mind gets clouded by the erotic noise and absorbs every moment of this heavenly bliss.
you pick up the pace automatically, grabbing her hair roughly, ruining her perfect braids, supposedly starting to believe in the placebo effect.
"yes, jinx.. oh god, yes..."
her eyes start to lightly tear up and turn slightly red. she opens them occasionally to look at you, at how deeply dissolved in this intimate act you are. and she gets no less pleasure from this process. drool flows from her lower lip, even dripping onto the floor, her gaze burning with determination to please you as much as possible…
needless to say, you really did cum just from seeing her in this vulnerable state and from the mental dialogue you had through her gaze. the strap rubbed on your clit occasionally, but you didn’t really need active stimulation. the play of feelings and the pornographic nature of the act was what really made you see stars.
jinx made fun of you for a week for the fact that she didn’t even need to touch you for you to explode…
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guys when i tell you i came in 3 minutes from this thought……… yeah.
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blossomcola · 10 days ago
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Any thoughts on g!p ryujin and yeji being the reader’s older brother’s friends?
pairing. dom!gp ryeji x sub!fem reader
content warnings. blowjob, deep throat, face fucking, hair pulling, throat fucking, riding.
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yeji and ryujin being the sick perverts who have a big thing for both of their friend’s younger sister, well—! they have this code with their friends of “don't mess with other people’s siblings because your friends’ families are respected.” but temptation appeared without any other option when they met you and realized that their friend’s ‘little sister’ was not a little preschool girl, but a pretty young girl who was entering adulthood and her first year of college!
yeji knows how to control her attitude because she has this thing of being a sweetheart with women, so you would never suspect that she has impure thoughts in her mind! she would always be super nice to you, asking you about your studies and giving you nice comments from time to time, acting super nice like it’s not like she’s imagining what it would be like to fuck you until you lose your mind <3 of course, she can also have moments of weakness where she lets her eyes wander over your body or stops mid–sentence, but never seem to notice that her brain short–circuits when you’re around!
i’m afraid ryujin is the complete opposite... this girl easily falls in love with any woman she sees or at least imagines a whole situationship in her head, so you can’t expect much when it comes to a girl who gets excited about any girl who crosses her path! her eyes would scan your entire body the moment you leave your room in search of a snack and your brother just decided to invite his friends over for a while, and there’s nothing ryujin enjoys more than when you lean forward to look for something in the refrigerator or when you stand on tiptoe to reach something on a shelf — this means that she would take advantage of the situation, asking you in a friendly way if you want her to help you because she is noticing your difficulties, just to grind her cock against your ass as she takes the things from the shelf <3 ryujin doesn’t mind hiding or being seen as obvious, so she would make sure to press herself against you enough to let you know how hard you make her.
and when the opportunity finally arises to be with both of them... yeji would let you ride her because she prefers your comfort and doesn’t want to force you into something you don’t want, she is a dom but is closer to being a soft one who can command you from below and at the same time give you the freedom to do whatever you want. she would lie back, sighing as she closed her eyes and threw her head back against the pillows, murmuring praises as her hands caress your sides and she makes sure to let you know about your good work — and well, ryujin always appears but to make known how contrasting she is! appearing standing next to you with her cock in her hand, letting out a whistle that catches your attention, saying some stupid thing like “there’s attention for me too, sweet cheeks?” and you’d make some witty comments if it weren’t for the fact that the cock in front of your eyes was making your mouth water... a nod is all you can give ryujin because your brain couldn’t seem to process things or have any other kind of coherent thought, so she just has to guide her cock in front of your face and tap the head against your lips while saying “open wide for me.” and a satisfied smile appears on her face as she sees you part your lips and let her slide her cock into your mouth. unlike yeji, ryujin wouldn’t be gentle with you even if you begged her, especially because hearing your gags and moans muffled by her cock while she fucks your mouth is a memory she will treasure forever <3 ryujin could only coo at the sight, running her fingers through your hair and pushing a strand behind your ear because she may be destroying you but she doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable because she’s not inconsiderate! not when she asks if you’re okay and you give her the prettiest eyes while nodding slightly, making her regret not having tried to start this months ago... but there’s no problem with this because from this moment on you will become both of their personal toy!
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