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SECRETS & SPELLS

m reader x kazuha ; sakura // 14k words

“Really,” and you’re saying this with the most unimpressed look on your face, knowing Sakura’s bullshit could never get to you that easily, “And here I thought we had something special going on between us,” you tell her with a gesture of a hand, signifying the rapport. 

She laughs at that, because deep down you’ll put up with her antics in the end either way. Whether it would be spilling a few drinks down her throat or splitting her open until the crack of dawn breaks into the horizon, you’ll get the last say before she does. Always. 

“Do tell,” says Sakura, “Besides, you’ve got my number on speed dial.” 

-

It’s actually a pretty funny thing how the sacred law of attraction works in these kinds of scenarios; at least, that’s what you’ve learned when Sakura barged into your life from completely out of nowhere. This might come off as unexpected: you’re the TA for one of the design courses, and Sakura happened to be one of the top students in the class with the highest probability to break through into the fashion industry come post-grad. 

And at every turn since the beginning of the semester, she has managed to impress you amazingly. 

Everything’s all lighthearted at the first meeting - the usual buzz about this stellar connection you have with Sakura - and she feels the same sentiment. The feedback is subtle; the compliments start to pile on one another; you’re noticing features in her appearance that might be falling into the obvious scope of things, but you take note of them either way. 

Wasn’t that long until you’ve mustered up the courage to treat her out after she came to you for additional advice and pointers and such from one of her personal projects. Although the first date was an absolute train wreck to your standards, she was willing enough to come back around for more. 

One meeting happens again, and another. 

Then the next one. 

And the next one. 

The weeks start to mesh together aside from all the usual routines and responsibilities filling up your schedule and calendar. But you’ve managed to set time aside whenever possible because that’s all part of having fun with someone like her. And sure, you’re waiting for that Friday to hit every time because it relieves you of anything for a short period; it’s also safe to say that you’re not the only one. 

So you learn a lot of things about Sakura. More ways than you would like. 

And it’s not even worth blaming the lowered inhibitions due to the alcohol.  A test drive of sorts, the natural course of thoughts coming out from your brain and channeling that to your words and actions whenever you’re around her, there’s that appreciation in the honesty - wondering where has this girl been all your life?

Because Sakura falls in a lot of ways. Ways that you would never have expected:

“For one thing,” you’re telling her while being roped deeper into the club by her hand, “I don’t think the number 1-800-hot-n-fun was a viable one to go with, by the way.” She twists her head around once getting past the foyer, opening up from the inside to scattered crowds spaced away from the dance floor. As expected for a Friday night to no surprise -  the thrumming of your eardrums in response to the overpowering bass proving a clear struggle in terms of discernibility. 

“Do I have to remind you again?” Sakura tells you, loosening the grip as you’ve managed to get in close proximity, unfazed when your body is practically on top of hers, passing through the crowd, “We’re doing that thing with Miss ‘you - know - who’. Unless you’re asking me to just leave your ass back in the apartment, but oh wait - you're already here with me as it is.” 

“Sure.” And that’s how things like these usually go with her: you’ll be doing one thing, then the familiar contact on your phone pops up on your lockscreen. Some days you’d drop whatever you were doing in a heartbeat - if it was willing to kill time or procrastinate, she’d know your answer already. “Drop the code name. You’re not being really inconspicuous with-” 

“Kazuha? But it fits the profile perfectly!” She’s beaming, exchanging a few glances with some regulars hovering outside the dance floor, her face lighting up with wide eyes andan open an open mouth.

“But seriously,” you say, and with as much sarcasm that you could pull out of your ass, “I thought that was a one-time thing with her.” Sakura rolls her eyes, spearheading to one of the booths on the far end of the dance floor, secluded in a suspicious corner where no one else would end up unless being escorted off with enough shots in their system to do so in the first place. 

And you learn - with Sakura, nothing is ever a one time thing with her. Ever. She brought you into a trap, the kind where you couldn’t even get out of if you tried. 

Like all necessary cues for an entrance, this one doesn’t really have a notable introduction since you’re the one that’s interested without actually saying it explicitly. The lone girl sitting in the booth catches your eye, spacing out with the colorful floating lights occasionally hitting her face as she appears to be breaking a sweat despite her stoic expression. 

She looks nervous, probably flustered at the fact that she’s even in the dance club considering how flushed her face looks without the color. You look over to Sakura, to which she smiles with her eyes, already feeling the stage being set for what’s to come.

“You sure you want to leave this as a one - off?” She asks, combing down some of her hair while waving at the girl in the booth. “Think of this as a chance to redeem yourself with her - her - I mean, me.” 

“Not everything has to be about you. Acting as the lynchpin when you also want to join in on the fun as well.” 

Sakura nicks her head, that prying grin coming at the corner where you can’t see it up front. She studies your features, the way your face crinkles at every remark or sly comeback that leaves her lips, priming those synapses ready and raring for how she wants this night to go. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen. It worked last time, and it’ll work again.” 

With all thoughts considered, it all leads to one inevitable conclusion: 

“I’d love for you to work her over again, like you did before,” she husks, lazily placing her lips along the line of your jaw. The nerve ends down your neck and spine tingling at the contact as your feet move along with hers, approaching closer to the lone girl waiting at the table, locking irises and noticing her pulled lip. “And just for your information, she’s so into you.” 

“Are you sure it’s not the other way around with him?” Kazuha butts in, sliding over a subtle appetizer of some casual chips and assorted dips; the duo of Arnold Palmers is also quick to follow soon after. “I mean, you’re the one who likes to kiss everybody, Sakura.” 

“Not true,” she rebukes. “But I-” 

“If you want to test that theory,” you’re telling the both of them, smiling with eyes trained alternating on looks, sipping a bit of the beverage down, “I think both of you would be convinced to take this somewhere that allows more misbehavior to happen.” 

-

It’s not that you’re not able to remember the events of last night. It’s the fact that you can’t remember what took place last night at all. 

Though your memory starts to stir back to normal at the floating pair of lips hovering over and around your face in the late morning going into the afternoon.

You’re squinting from the overbearing light that breaks through the curtains and and the ambient sounds of traffic in the distance from the open window. There’s also the realization that the mobility in your body is severely hammered, and with good reason. 

A look up past the sheets, and it’s a body pressed next to yours, sprawled with an arm and leg thrown over your thigh and stomach, still trying to be mindful in care not to wake you. She looks up at you with doe eyes before fluttering them shut and nestling deeper into the side of your chest, rubbing her hand across the more she gets comfortable. 

“About time you woke up,” she mumbles, giggling at you, plopping your head back onto the pillow. “I was wondering if you were actually dead or something, not that I would be worried of course.” 

“And if I was?” The question alone is alone is rhetorical as it sounds, blinking up towards the ceiling while adjusting your body meshed into the mattress and in between the sheets, “I feel like you could’ve put in a little more effort to, well, bring me back to life.” 

This girl then sits up, lets the comforter trickle down to her waist, exposing her breasts; the marks still apparent from the night prior, serving to be a good kickstarter for your memory now that most of the alcohol should’ve subsided by now. “Maybe I should’ve put more effort into that, the same way that you handled us,” she tells you, “God, you really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?” 

“Sakura,” you say, and you’re calling her out with a soft laugh bubbling beneath your stomach.. “I’d hate to be honest with you, but I can’t even remember the amount of drinks we had at the place. That’s how you know it’s bad if you were in my shoes.” 

“But you were still sober enough to dick me down after a long week?” 

You don’t give an answer to Sakura’s question, but the way her actions do the talking should already say enough: placing kisses on your shoulder, shuffling herself closer to you, hand slithering to a certain spot where it’s also jogging your memory. 

“Sweetie,” you tell her, a dragged - out sigh leaving your lips once Sakura’s practiced fingers start to touch down around your half-hardened cock. “You wouldn’t mind helping me remember what we did last night, right?” 

Well, of course, she’d say, but instead she laces that phrase in the form of a kiss. Knowing her, she’d be willing to assist in whatever it is that you do. A transactional service: you do one thing for her and she’d do the same. And the repayment could really come in a handful of methods, but this one usually takes top of the list. 

“I don’t,” Sakura answers, giggling softly when you’re trying to push for more, leaning your head to meet her lips, her pulling away just to play a little tease. “As much as I would love to help you, I can’t be the only one to do all the work around here. It tarnishes your gentlemanly appearance, but that’s what I think.” 

You pull one of her legs up, shifting her closer to you when she has her lips working you again, hand twisting deliberately around your cock. The pace alone is strategic and slow, but very well practiced and methodical, licking up her palm to ensure she’s soaking up the sensitive surface in every spot possible. 

She also takes the hint with the sliding hand up her waist, straddling over your thighs to where you’re almost pinned against the headboard, grip still apparent around your shaft, keeping steady the more she scooches her hips up beneath your groin. You get lost in the valley of her waist, the defined abs well deserved from the hard work in the gym, the gaze she possesses with those lovely, messy locks in her hair, the pure seductiveness with her hand grazing her breast. You’re being pulled back in with another intoxicating kiss, filled with so much care and and love, and all of that to be replaced with undesirable lust that seems to entrap both of you like the heavenly light breaking through the thin curtains in your room. 

The taste, the scent of her - still present from last night’s tales - are another reminder and trick for your mind to work around against the lingering after effects of the alcohol. 

“Is it working?” She asks, holding herself just above your length with hands fast around your neck, “Or do you still need some help getting your memory up to speed?” 

Sakura then reaches over to the nightstand, a Polaroid captured in between her pointer and middle finger, eyes slanted along with her face, watching you examine the picture in the small snapshot. Another fragment is obtained through this, internalizing the appearance of her marked - up body sprawled up on the same bed you’re lying in, with another body next to her but the face isn’t shown. 

Just as you’re about to say your answer, she catches you by surprise, the press of her lips on you again, hips jumping up in impulse when her pussy settles on top of the underside of your shaft, hands naturally trained to her hips as the slow pecks eventually become more inviting, passionate. 

Maybe the home remedies would’ve been a sufficient option to cure your hangover, but with Sakura, she herself is the best kind of morning after pill that you’ll take the chance over if the opportunity presents itself like it has right now. Her kisses become more intoxicating, hoping that you’ll want her in the same fashion that she’s emitting - a being that’s blessed with a wanting so addicting, it’s impossible to think twice about it. Your mouth makes its way down the fine column of her throat and then to her chest, marking up the same spots as you did the night before, tugging onto one of her stiff nipples with your teeth. 

The grip in your hair with her fingers starts to become tighter, forcing her body onto you more. She holds you there, cheek pressed to the crown of your head, the moans proving to be positive feedback for you, grinding her hips slightly over your cock, making your grasp more protective of her, as if you didn’t want her to leave your presence whatsoever. 

She captures your lips again, hands now on both ends of your face, humming in approval when yours find their way to her ass, clawing your fingertips on the soft skin, setting the tempo of how her pussy lips glide across your cock, bathing it in her slick, and a small feeling of what’s to come in the passing minutes. Her teeth clash with yours on accident, laughing as she scaffolds her kisses down to your cheek, to the pulsepoint, on your trap, biting lightly as a proud badge of honor. Pulling away, she bites her lip, placing another kiss before pressing you back to the wall. 

“Saku,” you sputter, gasping out when her hips slide forward, pressing herself down on your cock that tenses all of the muscles in your legs, straightening them out beneath the sheets for a moment. “Fuck, you–” 

“Shh,” she says, finger on your lips.. “It’s helping a lot, right?” Her hand sliding down your chest, nails grazing across your skin riddled with goosebumps, probably because of how cold the room has gotten but at the same time how the heat between your two continues to build up. “I gave you two hints already, so do what you will with that.” 

“I think it is coming together,” you say, puppy dog eyes in amazement with how Sakura keeps your chin tilted up while the movement of her hips hypnotizes you. “But seriously, holy fuck, I-” 

Sakura pays no attention to your spills of cutoff praise, a moan from her lips and yours let out in unison when she rubs her clit right at the tip, hunching her back over, your face getting caught between the figurative net that is her tits, drawing another mark with your teeth and soothing it after with the flat plane of your tongue. 

If she’s not careful, this right amount of pressure from her pussy over your aching cock might spell disaster for you before even getting started with resuming last night's activities. Her body is already becoming a live wire to feed off on; the taste and how responsive she’s been so far, you’ll play into it for as long as she allows it. 

Luckily, she knows your body well enough as hers, stopping herself as she scooches down. The trail of kisses coming back with the first couple scattering their way down from your lips, cheeks, and neck, now down to the chest. Every touch of her lips across the canvas of your body only sends your mind deeper into that endless barrel of delusion and madness from the fantasies you’ve discovered with Sakura. 

It might also be worth mentioning how she substituted her pussy for her hand again, dainty fingers well placed around your shaft again, pulling it upwards as she buries herself beneath the sheets, lips now planting kisses at the hip and down to the thigh, then turning her attention to your twitching cock. 

You could feel the muscles in your ass clench underneath her body, watching with the comforter raised up to hide her from the open doorway, focused on how her breath grazes along your underside, carefully working her way up to place a chaste kiss to your tip, her tongue getting the first tastes of her favorite snack, swallowing the head first. 

She then inches down a bit, pulling herself up and out, tongue swirling and well trained. The feeling settles in static breaths, watching her be grateful for the reward she’s worked hard for in the short span of time. Her head lowers for another second, you lift your hips up to meet in the middle for her, and she stares at you with glossy eyes. 

The comforter gets lowered as your hands find themselves onon Sakura’s wrists.��

“Saku,” you groan automatically. Sakura’s eyes flutter in approval when she slides her puckered lips further down your length. The tiny press of her perfect lips, her tongue again slathering up the underside again, tracing a vein. 

Her hand finds itself at the base, building up a rhythm in her bobs that you’re all too familiar with. Tongue and the opening past her mouth and into the throat, moving in every move imaginable that she knows that you love and like. 

And it’s also this double-edged sword - a blessing or curse on her terms, how the vibrations coming from her vocal cords wrap around your cock whilst in her mouth, letting you know how ravishing you are for her cravings. 

“Keep the comforter over me.” Sakura commands, purring. Mixing in the swiping of her tongue as well as the erotic kisses she’s spoiling your cock with. Her head goes sideways, treating to one side of the base, dipping down to take one of your balls in her mouth. She’s also aware of how much you like your blowjobs to be wet, so it’s no surprise when she spits all over your cock, ensuring that no spot was left untouched with her saliva. 

You do as she says, letting your hands rest beneath the sheets along with Sakura; the view of the room now opened up past the obstruction, watching as the small bump between your legs indicated Sakura’s head, slowly feeling her head working her way down your cock, gasping when you feel the tip of her nose meet your stomach. 

She laughs with a mouthful of cock in her mouth still when she hears the sound of the back of your head hitting the wall, gripping the fuck out of her wrist on your leg to let her know that she’s doing wonders - in addition to the tension in your hips, bucking as she’s putting enough effort to take all of you down her throat, shifting her head side by side with the small chokes minimized with the comforter over her. 

The pace comes back, but this time with more variety. A hand is wrapped around your shaft, holding it in one spot while her mouth takes you right at the half, gagging as the suction deepens. She’s managed to have your cock slicked up enough to where her fingers are easy to swivel around, doubling down on the stimulation. 

Sakura isn’t one to really be forward when it comes to 'relieving your stress’, but with the amount of practice that she’s had from past experiences,, that thread of thoughts continues to open different avenues to sit on a balcony and ponder on. Earlier this week she felt compelled to have you bust all over her face because of how hot you looked while doing a virtual meeting on the couch; you’re picturing the image in your head - how she looks so good with your lips on you, so practiced, mouth pressuring all the right spots and tongue slicing through a vein and maybe lower. 

“Baby, baby, holy shit,” you’re moaning out again, getting a response from Sakura’s filled-up mouth, picturing the furrowed eyebrows and half-lidded eyes beneath the sheets. She moves your hands up from her wrists and into her hair, prompting you to shove the best inches down into her throat, much to the point where you’re nearly sitting upright to do so. 

This isn’t something to think too hard about: thrusting your hips into Sakura’s face in the morning - into that sweet heat of her mouth, how her nails are creating crevices in your skin, relaxing her mouth and throat enough to stuff nearly all of your length to that one hole of hers. You know that she could go on with this for as long as you’d like, instinctively helping her part a few stray fringes in her hair without even being able to see it. She’s sometimes worried if you’re hurting yourself with every deepthroat she does to you, assuring that having no gag reflex makes these bits in the whole experience a whole lot more pleasurable. 

“Mmph.” 

“This fucking mouth of yours, Saku,” you mumble, not paying any care to the increased volume of gags or the purring vibration of her open mouth creating this vacuum within your stomach - since the addicting suction and clench were about to send you into oblivion. 

“Mmmmph…” 

“God,“ you choke out. One thing you don’t want to accept to yourself or to anyone, for that matter: this was the best fucking way to wake up. 

“So fucking good,” she mumbles.

Another thing you’d hate to admit sometimes is the fact that even though you've been restricted from seeing Sakura take in your cock so well underneath the sheets, that’s traded in for how fast you could feel yourself coming undone again. That sense of pride also put you in jeopardy because every lick, plunge, and slip of your length into her mouth was another step in the pattern in transition to holding herself steady. It also doesn’t help that she tilts her head up, poking the head of your cock on the inside of her cheek, swiping the tongue at the underside, and seriously, this woman. 

The eerie ringing between your ears starts to pop up randomly, your body getting riddled with every overstimulating feeling being thrown right at it. The slickness in her mouth, the grip around the root becoming too tight, the gags becoming intense - your mouth is hanging low as your eyes begin to roll up to the back of your head. She doesn’t plan on playing it safe, and the edge is rapidly getting to you; it’s too fast, too soon, okay, oh fuck, oh fuck. 

“Saki!” a voice calls out past the open door leading into the hallway. “Where the fuck are you?” Shit, the tone sounds awfully familiar, and you also notice the trail of clothes along the floor. Another fragment from last night flashes in your brain; though, you’re trying to keep focus while Sakura’s heat surrounds your cock as you hear the sound of feet scraping along the hardwood floor. 

“Saki, I-” The second girl stops short past the door, phone in her hand and hair tousled, but still presentable. She’s wearing your dress shirt from the night before, unbuttoned and parted perfectly enough to where you could see the inner curve of her tits - her long, creamy thighs stand out to you, making your lowered jaw salivate when she cocks her head to the right out of curiosity, hands behind her back with her tongue buried behind her bottom lip. “Well, what do we have here?” 

How could you forget? The additional set of clothes on the floor? The lady next to Sakura’s ruined body covered with cum on the Polaroid photo?

Kazuha. Who else but Kazuha? 

“Good morning,” you greet, paying no attention to your hands as they appear to be all over the place before settling themselves above the sheets, just adjacent to the subtle bump where Sakura’s bobbing head was located. “I was wondering where you went off to.” 

“I couldn’t really sleep, so I thought it would be a good idea to whip up some food to kill time,” says Kazuha, biting her lip at the sight of your hand resting above the oddly shaped form between your legs and underneath the sheets. “You wouldn’t mind if I asked: Where the heck is Saki?” 

“Well,” you try to say, pretending to be oblivious while the heat of Sakura’s mouth trails your mind off into dreamland. “I’ll give it to you straight; she’s not here.” 

“Uh huh,” Kazuha breathes, unamused. “Really though, where did she go?” She asks, raising herself up on her tiptoes, slowly migrating closer to the edge of the mattress, noticing the heels hanging out of the edge. “I could’ve sworn she was next to you when I woke up.” 

“She was,” you reply, keeping that sly smile from breaking out in the frame of your face. “I don’t know if you checked the bathroom if she’s there, but that’s one place to start looking if you ask me.” 

Kazuha pays no attention to your answer, only keeping her eyes fixed on the pair of feet at the edge of the matter, palming an area for what appears to be Sakura’s calf, which makes her stop her controlled bobbing around your cock for a moment, stunned at the sudden press of Kazuha’s hand pulling her head back off of your soaked shaft, gulping because she knows that she got caught. 

A look under the sheets, and Kazuha laughs, locking eyes with you while the offering of a sheepish grin is all that you could give her. “Really?” she asks, examining beneath the white layer to only see Sakura laying on her stomach, bare ass between your legs while you eventually call the act off, lifting off the sheets to give Kazuha a better look at Sakura’s head buried between your thighs, hand still well gripped into the threads of her hair. “If you guys are going to start the fun without me, then don’t even bother hiding it.” 

“We weren't hiding anything at all,” teases Sakura, dipping her head down your cock again that makes you clench at the feeling of her throat. 

“Pretty much seems that way to me.” Kazuha retorts. 

“Who was the one who woke up early again?” 

“Don’t I have a say in this?” You inquire, combing Sakura’s messy hair down while she moves her wrist around your length to occupy herself, causing you to shudder at the delicate touch. “I mean, Jesus, I guess Saku here couldn’t really help herself to me.” 

“She’s the worst.” Kazuha declares, slipping out of your dress shirt, now left with nothing but those lacy black pants she slipped on. 

“He worked you over; let me remind you,” Sakura replies, bearing a smug grin when she looks over towards you. “You finished on her back, and before that, you finished on me twice.” 

The corner of your eye picks up on Kazuha getting back on the bed, shuffling with her knees as she approaches closer to you. You remember again that she’s relatively well known in your circle of friends, considering the fact that she’s one of the four girls that you’re relatively affiliated with around campus. She’s only a year younger than you, but good friends with Sakura (obviously); and there’s also the duo of Chaewon and Yunjin, the pair of them also crazy in their own rights, respectively. 

“Your point being?” The question gets both of their attention, exchanging looks when Kazuha finally reaches to you, guiding your hand to her waist and around her back, Sakura placing neat kisses across your obliques, cock still welded to her hand and stroking gently. 

“I guess the golden question should be asked again,” says Sakura, bending her neck down to lightly tap the tip of your cock to her pouty lips. “Where do you think you’ll finish today? On our face? Down our throats? Our backs? Or maybe…”

“Maybe…” Kazuha teases, lifting her hands with yours up to her face, rubbing the pad of your thumb across her bottom lips, lightly sucking on it that’s insanely hypnotic. “Maybe he could finish inside us?” 

(Sakura and Kazuha: birds of a feather. You can’t fathom with the fact sometimes that they’ll act like angels, dress like crazy, and only have you around to tug the clothes off of them, as they’re babbling listlessly about how you’ll pin one of them down (or both) on the carpet, make paintings with your tongue all over their bodies; the taste of each more exquisite in every round you take them on, fucking them on any article of furniture within reach. )

Kazuha’s not even remotely close to you. You and her are just surface-level friends at best. Heck, she’s only a mere acquaintance in the swing of things, if you want to read deeper into the personal analysis of each other. The only line of connection you have with her is through Sakura. And from the last outing being a solid first impression for all parties involved, you’d laugh to yourself at times because Kazuha could never have enough of you and Sakura. 

“Kazuha, sweetie,” Sakura purrs, pulling her head up with a string of spit still attached to her chin. “You’ve had your fill with him already, literally.” And as she says that, you feel all of the muscles and bones in your body practically melt through the mattress beneath you from the overall presence and weight that these two women have. These two perfect dolls - imagining how their bodies will bend and crumple when you bury your cock inside both of them, shutting one up with the other’s cunt over their mouth. Sakura’s mouth has already made you want to test that edge, and with Kazuha’s? 

“I think we should let him decide who to dump his cum into, no?” Sakura suggests soon after pulling Kazuha’s body next to hers, allowing you to admire the live Renaissance painting taking place before you. She then pats Kazuha’s shoulders twice, much like something straight out of practice: Kazuha quick to get on top of your waist while Sakura scooches down to hold your cock tried and true back into her mouth, the pleasure instantaneous as Kazuha’s lips find yours for the first time today. 

Kazuha’s arms slither over the bridge of your collarbones, letting you indulge in her perky tits, trying to keep your focus on her while Sakura begins to up the ante again in scarfing up your cock. 

“I wanted you all to myself when I woke up first,” Kazuha says, tangling her fingers in your hair, softly moaning when you’re leaving sporadic marks all over her tits, capturing your lips again as you involuntary groan into her mouth, to which she receives it incredibly well. “But you were sleeping so soundly, I decided to leave you be.” 

You’re also wondering about the different things you had on your to-do list in your phone. Out of all times, why in the hell were you thinking about that now? You’ve got your personal love interest inhaling your cock by the second, with another friend in your arms who’s willing to be your personal fuckbuddy just for the sake of it. 

Kazuha’s features break a bit when you’ve got your lips catered to the stiff buts of her nipples, hands wandering across that toned back of hers, tracing the shoulder blades while the grasp in your fingers starts to crunch at the fine skin. 

“I think,” she husks, listening to the occasional gags Sakura’s doing on your cock continuously. “Maybe you’ve been wanting my mouth for a bit too now, huh?” 

(Well, yeah. I mean-) 

Kazuha quickly takes the hint right out of your mind, mirroring the same pathway of kisses that Sakura did not long ago, the same waves of pleasure mixed in with the return of goosebumps spreading across your body, hands still unsure where they play as they’re suspended in the air, giving way as Sakura slips your cock out of her mouth, twisting at the crown once Kazuha meets in the middle. 

The gaze they give you, from the both of them, exchanging glances with each other because these two share a brain cell together - that’s the simple assessment to observe when you’re left speechless. 

Thank God you cleared your morning from whatever schedule that was initially planned, because it wouldn’t have led to having these two in your bed wanting all of you. 

“Do I still have a say in this?’ You attempt to ask, studying how their eyes are full of infectious lust, the creeping grin spreading across their lips. “To be fair, I think I also need to get some morning stretching in before getting on with the morning.” 

“Oh, you’ll get your stretching in.” Sakura muses. 

“You won’t be saying anything from this point on,” declares Kazuha. 

No point in arguing against the pair; the verdict has already been decided. 

Sakura slides her hands up across your chest, laying you back down while Kazuha shuffles down to the original spot where Sakura was occupying, eyes drawn to the peek of Kazuha’s tongue on your cock, switching in between kisses and licks. 

A difference between Kazuha and Sakura when it came to blowing you: Sakura knew the different kinds of tricks from experimenting in the past couple months - what worked and what didn’t. Kazuha, on the other hand, was just yearning for the taste of you in her mouth, sealing her lips with the right press, eager to pick up where Sakura left off. It shouldn’t be making you feel like putty, but that’s exactly the case when she bottoms your cock out, clenching her throat that makes you twitch at the hip joints. 

Sakura gets a hand around your length, tethering you to one angle, Kazuha dipping down with just her mouth, with every bob up being met with a palm twisting around your shaft. The sounds that rumble from deep within your chest are enough proof that the thin walls surrounding you three won’t be quiet for any longer. 

Though your muscles could only stay tense for so long due to the fascinating clench, with Sakura joining back in on the fun that makes you fall slack to the mattress. She’s picking back up with kisses in certain areas of your groin where Kazuha has only glossed over, tongue well working up the seam of your balls, popping on in her mouth while Kazuha’s face is perpendicular, shifting up the side as if she’s playing the flute. 

Her brows furrow for a bit when she puts the head of your cock past her pretty lips, hollowing her cheeks for a moment, swirling the tongue right underneath the tip, enough for you to tense up your length in her mouth, and you’re met with wide eyes, feeling the small release of cum onto her tongue. Kazuha then slips you out for a second, licking her lips as you’re putting everything into your body to not bust this early. 

“I think he’s had enough of me, Saki. What do you think?” Kazuha observes, “Do you want more of him again?” 

“Is that even supposed to be a question? Let me remind you who’s the sluttiest between the two of us.” Sakura grits, voice laced with a firm determination, as her eyes are now filled with fire building deep within the corneas. 

You might be fucked here. But hey, that’s all part of the fun with these two. Remember? 

Not that it was any sort of competition, so to speak, but with how they synergize together, the movements of their mouths all over their shaft, guiding one’s mouth over your cock, taking turns, whispering these sweet instructions of ‘hold here’ and ‘right there, baby,’ and even ‘god, spit all over his cock, baby. You know he likes it wet,’ it’s impossible for you to stand tall, the assault on your shaft turning into a monumental task from here on out. 

Sakura asserts herself over Kazuha, fingers fast around the base, lowering her jaw enough so that the speed of the bobbing can be much quicker, and it is. Judging from how loudly you ground for the both of them to hear, Kazuha’s hands find themselves on the back of Sakura’s head, grabbing handfuls of hair as she guides her down again, making her swallow you. All of you. Until you could feel the vibrations of her hums rattling down your length and into your lower body. 

Kazuha whispers into Sakura’s ear, too difficult to hear since the whines drown out the continuous gagging she’s proffering over your cock, putting her at the base for what feels like an eternity. One second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She’s still holding you down with the tightness of her throat, the urge to put your hand over Kazuha’s, prolonging the unbelievable sensation, and three taps to your hip signal that Kazuha’s had enough. 

She pulls her head back up, coughing; these destroyed attempts at sobs breaking through the air. You’re left gasping, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you as they both tend to your soaked cock, looking back up as they move in unison for a moment, then switching off different places around the underside while the moans just keep on coming. Hands are also fast to comb back the light obsidian and honey golden locks, not wanting to ruin their flow when they meet to kiss with your cock caught in between the crossfire. 

“You girls are something else,” you husk, ears filled with the sounds of their giggles as they both continue with their makeout session, alternating with mouths and occasionally your cock still in both of their hands. The wet kisses being shared were an absolutely wonderful sight to see, and though you forget that you could also have fun for yourself, taking the liberty to press both of their lovely lips on the sides of your shaft, laughing and moaning up and over the length while you just watch. And you keep watching, feeling the puffed-up chest of yours almost rise to where your chin’s at, sucking your gut inwards as your hips do the familiar motion of raising themselves upwards to the both of them. 

“He’s ready for us, hmm?” Sakura asks, wiping a patch of drool away from her chin. “Kazu, you get to ride him first. I’ve got to make sure he’s well rewarded for his patience, okay?” 

Kazuha nods, watching as she primes herself, touching her slick folds as Sakura shuffles herself up past your chest, getting her thighs buried into your armpits, her pussy hovering right over your face, not wanting to wait another second as you pull her hips down, moaning into her core as Kazuha teases her walls with the head of your cock just for good measure. 

“Don’t, fuck, please." Sakura pleads, taken by shock when your tongue swipes up her pussy lips, taking in the sweetness while making note of how slick she’s gotten for you. The pads of your fingers grip on her legs a bit tighter, her nose shifted up to rub her clit slightly, and she yelps. Kazuha laughs right behind her, sinking her warmth over your shaft, eliciting a moan that gets transferred into Sakura’s leaking hole, licking up the folds when Kazuha finally settles your cock into her. 

“Shit!” 

Sakura clutches her fingers into your hair, moaning to no avail as you quench that thirst you’ve been searching for this entire morning, and she starts to grind her pussy lips across your face, rolling slowly as your mouth hangs open, letting the sounds of rapture spill out of her mouth with every lick you do to her. 

“You’re so good,” Sakura moans out, feeling the latch of your lips onto the nub, flattening out your tongue again across her folds, earning another moan in approval. You smile against her hips when your ears are filled with the endless phrases of cursing that you’ve heard way too often, but it never gets old. Ever. “Why are you so... so fucking good at this?” 

So you try to speak, but all that’s said is buried underneath the drain of her pussy, moaning out as a proper response as Kazuha picks up her pace in riding your cock, feeling the clash of her hips with yours, bottoming out your length that makes you lock your knees to ensure that the lower half of your body is stable enough for her frame. 

Kazuha increases the chances, setting her legs up in a squatting position, keeping herself upright with just her hands on your waist, letting her face onto Sakura’s sweaty back. She lets herself float over you for a minute, taking the chance to catch her breath while you begin to piston her pussy, thrusting upwards. You’re met with a low groan spilled out of Kazuha’s lips in response to your action, only to be drowned out when she lowers her hips to meet with yours, the primal slaps filling up the room and bouncing around the walls. 

The inevitability of cumming a full-fledged broken dam into Kazuha’s cunt was a thought filling your mind, but you try to not think too much about it; Sakura’s pussy was still a thing to deal with, maintaining your pace with every lick you do to her clit.

Effort was everything; that was something to keep in mind when it comes to fucking Sakura. She loves it when you get so into it just like her, because you too can’t get enough of ruining this perfect girl every chance you get. Kazuha was also on the same boat, and by how your thighs continue to shake at the weight of her hips coming down on you again and again, it’s impossible to ignore how good she is too - keep it coming, Sakura’s telling you, in the lovely sounds filling up your ears coming from her and Kauhza. You’re fucking me so good, baby. I love it when your cock throbs inside me. Please give it to me. I know you want to. 

Kazuha knows you’re close, and Sakura’s not far off in the lost rails of rhythm. Her pussy is flooding on your face, the please becoming more erratic and desparte.

“God, I’m going - I'm going.” 

The words coming out of you are buried underneath Sakura’s thighs. 

"Fuck, I can’t with your fucking-ah!” 

Kazuha does one drive back down your length, and then one more for good measure. Sakura’s hips tremble over your face, quivering and hips trembling as you drag her pussy right across your tongue. Your arms latch somewhere above Sakura’s ass, matching her clutches with the digits buried in your locks, a fire lit under your chest as Kazuha’s cunt grips you like a knot - the heat from their bodies and yours submerging you as if you were in lava. Kazuha bucks forward, face hitting Sakura’s back, holding herself up with her hands as the pounds from thrusting upwards become increasingly unstable, her ravine of a pussy getting you closer and closer to that edge while you can’t even think straight. 

A swipe up the tongue on Sakura’s folds. Then three more, nibbling on her clitoral area as her thighs start to press inward from both sides of your head. She keeps grinding, dragging her swollen lips across the ridges of your face, mewling with a hand on the headboard, giggling as she mirrors the movements from grinding on your cock earlier. 

Kazuha slams her hips down, and not in a nice fashion since, well, fuck, legitimately, her cunt seizes your cock, smearing her sweet juices all over the rough bits, a vein that’s concealed with her walls, keening when she feels the swollen head shoved up inside her twitch that really makes her feel like mash. Her nails are ripping apart the skin on your stomach, searching for a hold to grab on to. It’s all futile when your body’s elevated to a temperature where there’s glistening sweat all over - her hands slip off and land on the cushions, priming the angle where you’ve hit before, fucking her deeper. She hisses when your balls lightly tap the pucker of her ass, just a bit, but that turns her on so much more. 

“This cunt,” you mumble out, mouth still full of Sakura’s pussy, “Kazu, I can’t, babe. Your pussy is unreal.” 

“Okay,” Sakura flatly says, “fuck.” And Kazuha just laughs, fluttering her eyes shut when you’ve latched onto the lower part of her thighs. “Keep working on him, Zu. You know he loves your pussy that much, right?” 

“Yes, yes, yes, God.” 

“Cum inside her.” Sakura instructs, and it’s a bid that you had no second thought of doing. “How nice of her to be your little personal fuckdoll, hm? To just handle her in ways that you want her to, nice and sticky and all fucked out, because you know she’ll come back for more, baby.” 

The next move she does is so calculated, you can’t even tell or determine if she did it on the fly: placing Kazuha’s chin on the small divot in her collarbone, the image of her closed eyes, the frizzes in her wavy hair slightly covering part of her face, shaken because of how your hips drive upwards into her. And Sakura just does the simple motion of putting her palm on the side of her face, parting her mouth open while you can only watch with your eyes since the lower half of your face is still attached to Sakura’s pussy. 

“Saku,” a frail call in the last seconds, “She feels so good.” 

“Fuck your cum into her, baby,” Sakura growls again, clawing the sides of your head as she ruts her hips deeper into your mouth. “That’s the only thing that matters. Until she’s full with the fucking thickness of it.” 

You managed to fuck Kazuha through her climax a minute or two ago, and now she’s repaying you by fiddling through yours. 

It’s an unraveling feeling when you push past that brink, filling up her tiny cunt with cum, molding her fuckhole to every detail of your member. And she’s mouthing, Sakura’s expression filled with glee, saying, Aw baby, god, yes, would you look at her? She loves it when you fuck a nice load into her, fresh and hot, and-

“Christ,” you grit out, hoarsely, letting the pulses channel out of your body, Dick still grinding the deepest parts of her stomach, cum splattering every spot to be left untouched inside. The throbs are still happening, but with every hold you have, your cock starts to die out in the heat of her hips. 

The senses are all over the place when Kazuha slips her pussy off of your cum-soaked cock, Sakura’s hips now hovering above your face, shifting off when you still see the constellations flash in your eyes, vision blurring and deblurring to the image of Kazuha paying no attention to Sakura’s state, sloppily placing her lips with hers again, rough. 

These two kiss like friends, maybe friends who have had a little bit too much to drink in order for them to act like this. They’ve done this with Yunjin and Chaewon for sure, based on the stories that you’ve heard. With or without the alcohol, they both show this kind of affection because it's natural, watching as Sakuraa’s hands find Kazuha’s head, Kazuha slithering her arms behind Sakura’s back, letting the passion take over both of their bodies. They both take the time to indulge in each other's features: hands wandering, mouths on nipples, gripping necks and pulling waists closer, Sakura teasing Kazuha’s well-worked cunt, a fingertip soaked with a bit of your cum, licking it cleanly off her fingers. 

And the hums. The fucking hums that these two are spilling out. You’re basically drooling when they pick up where they left off with the kissing, paying no attention to you as your hand starts to slowly slide over your cock, palming it before your fingers start to wrap around the length one by one. You’re equally fucked just like them, but there’s no problem with that. 

Both of them take as much time as they needed - tender lips and tongues canvassing every part of their exposed bodies, eyes recording every second of this account - in hopes that you can play this back in your mind as Kazuha smiles with full delight to match your expression, drinking in the sight of the show presented right on your lap. 

“I think Saku’s ready for you,” Kazuha hushes, lightly dragging her fingertips across the taut line of Sakura’s abs, resting on the underside of her breast, like a showoman who is trying to entice like she’s selling the latest model of a car. Her hand then goes down to Sakura’s clitoral area, rubbing it in circles when the mountains of pillows and sheets are unearthed from the mattress, ruffling and crumpling with the movements of their legs and feet, being pulled by your hand to the edge of the bed. “She made a mess all over your face, didn’t she? Now you’ve got to pay her back.” 

You’ve gotten out of bed in a heartbeat multiple times before. One morning was because you were late to class; the other time was to follow the view of Sakura’s bare ass tiptoeing into the kitchen for another meal before starting the day - and here you were, with a rearranged order in what probably feels like slow motion but one constant movement throughout, hand never leaving the meat and bone of Sakura’s ankle, assisting Kazuha by reeling Sakura, who’s shying away, but this is exactly what she wants. 

“Our little baby of a whore is deprived of a thick cock filling up her guts,” Kazuha sighs, expression a bit fatigued with the way she’s still coming down from her high. “So do you think you can do me a favor? Stuff up her cunt nice and tuck first, then ruin her after. How does that sound?” 

You try to answer, at least, taken aback when Kazuha’s got her long fingers along the line of your hardening shaft and Sakura’s spreading her legs wider and wider. She’s holding you close. Closer. Aiming - tried and practiced - towards the heat of Sakura’s. It’s a hook, line, and sinker when the head of your cockparts her walls, slippery and still leaking, feeling every nerve ending in her hips trickle a thousand volts inside. 

“Make her beg for it. I think you’ll be able to fuck her filthy with how she’s wanting to cum for you.” Kazuha’s tone drops down low, almost agitated. “This is payback for what she did to me last time, so I’ll let you be the judge.” 

And when the opportunity presents itself for you to determine that said call, it’s never a clear answer from the start if you’re willing to be honest with yourself. The one of many tricks Sakura has on her exposed sleeve, enchanting you with a heavy desire - the kind of want that could never be fully fulfilled. And, even in the days where it does feel like that, it doesn’t even come close to satisfying you. 

When you lock eyes with her, wide open to match with her parted mouth, bottoming her all the way with your cock tapping to that spot that has her keening, holding back her sigh as your groin meets the underside of her thighs. 

“Feel good, baby?” You ask Sakura, relieved at how she’s come to grips around your shaft burying inside her, head tilting back, clutching on to Kazuha’s forearm as your fingers find their place along her thighs. “Hm,” you assess soon after, inching your cock past the halfway point, “sure looks like it does.” 

Sakura’s mouth wobbles, gasping, her eyes draw shut, and her face flushes pink. She takes in your cock so well, the slipping slick of her thighs sounding off this noise of pure squelching; her whole upper body moves up in reaction; stomach bucking, chest puffing up to the open air, pushing in the deep area that has you speechless. 

The bottom palm of her hand grazes your groin, adjusting to how your cock molds around her cunt, hands shifting to the underside of the knees, using the rising octaves in her moans to indicate that she’s receptive and expressive in approval. Amidst the growing chaos the lower half of your body is going through, Kazuha takes liberty in massaging Sakura’s breasts, rubbing her stomach as it bloats from the air being exhaled in whines and expletives. 

“Ugh, fuck, you." She’s blabbering at this point. 

And there’s you, finding your rhythm, your groove, enjoying the way her soft skin maps out across your rough and grainy fingers, how it sinks in so smoothly - much closer to melting, it seems - something of that degree. 

“-mhm,” and there’s the “can’t baby, ah, ngh-” with more of, “-dick feels so good.” It’ll fall between the cracks, piercing deep, pulling out and sliding it across her folds just to play as a tease, because she deserves it without any reason, penetrating back in to pick up right where you left off. 

Sakura’s body is that one journey that you can never get tired of looking at. How her thighs are just immaculately perfect, that waist offering up those sets of abs on a pedestal, the way her tits rebound on the upstroke when you’ve got past the spot of bottoming her out - where your cockhead grips at the soft spot where it’s been at multiple times, squeezing and swallowing and resting where it should belong in every case with her. 

Kazuha shifts her body from the side of Sakura, getting lower to rest her head right above her waist, a trail of kisses circling over her stomach and belly button, getting caught in the throes of pleasure when you realize that Sakura’s got two fingers inside Kazuha, helping her treat herself and assisting the self-induced action. 

“God, Saki, look at him all fucked out in your pussy, huh?” Kazuha bites down in an area on her waist just above her cunt, nose brushing down lower to her clit, hand curling around to the bottom of her inner thighs, keeping it out of your way. “She wraps you so well, doesn’t she? Finally getting fucked again after last night?” 

“Don’t you know it,” you answer, and there’s no other need to spiel something that’s already been known; Sakura can make you shut the fuck up with her mouth, her cunt, and the way that she talks pure sex. You love how she’s nothing more than mush and warmth. A fine tapestry that’s meant to stay untouched, but you’ll tear all the edges down where the seams have already been shredded. 

You get thrown off when Sakura’s pussycle clenches at the hilt, where the contraction captures the air bubbling in your lungs, turning the legs into jelly, and the bobble forward into her lying body on the mattress only punctuates without saying a word. Kazuha laughs at the sudden change in weight on her head, causing you to stand back up with your knees to the bed holding you up, drawing away as Kazuha gazes at your silken cock, soaked with Sakura, lightly teasing when you’re pushing the tip in and out for good measure. 

Kazuha rises from her bent state, lazily putting her lips on yours as the pace slows a bit in the lower half of you - darting your cock in with one firm stroke. Hard. The strokes themselves are now more impactful, and ripping, the snap is becoming more assertive. “Fuck, sir, fucking,” Sakura cries out, the coil of her cunt tying you in. Kazuha sets herself back to where she was, resting her cheek on her waist as every entry with your cock, body bouncing on the soaked sheets from all the sweat and leaking slick coming out. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, ah.” 

Sakura’s hands hold at her thighs, gyrating upwards at every point where your cock buries at the deepest depth, swelling at the unimaginable clench to where she mewls, wailing but cute at how she’s tuckered out. 

“Goodness gracious,’ You spit out, in a half-sob, the moans and utterances and simple replies to Kazuha’s endless mumbling, repeating in one same fashion or the other. “You’re so-so fucking wet, and for what? God-” 

“Look at what you did to her,” Kazuha tuts, biting on the inside of her thigh, and Sakura basically yelps. A mix of pain and pleasure, the best of both worlds. You tug yourself out of her cunt, slapping the swollen cockhead on the nub of her clit, sighing at the way she shudders. “Do you think she deserves to finally let go?’

The responses that pass through your lips are just staggered breaths, tumbling down as the slaps start to line up with your heartbeat. A fine point in pace, your internal metronome that only leads to the dwindling doom of your thick cock thrusting Sakura’s tight pussy. 

“Love it,” Sakura mutters, head fallen to the provided pillow courtesy of Kazuha; she’s sobbing. “Love your cock, so fucking much.” 

“Mhm honey,” and the pet names in themselves are just the ad-libs thrown into the mix, with the right touch of pheromones and increase of dopamine being shot up to the brain. “Get it in there nice and deep; I want her to own it, feel it, because this cock is all hers.” 

“-god.” 

The riled-up exhale comes in reflection of the ecstasy, every bit of praise coming from Kazuha’s lips playing hand-in-hand with Sakura’s moans filling your ears. 

“Think you can hold out a bit longer, Saki? Kazuha croons, head turned the opposite way as she admires the sucked-out gaze Sakura wears on her face, meeting your eyes again. “I’m doing you a favor since he fucked my brains out last time, so be thankful. You greedy bitch.” 

“Shut your fucking-ugh.” 

“Don’t even think about keeping it in,” Kazuha doubles down, dragging her nails across Sakura’s inner thigh, forcing her legs wide open once more, almost as if she’s doing the splits across the length of the mattress. “He’s so perfect for you, hitting all of the right spots and all the right places? In that creaming pussy of yours? How his fucking fat cock splits you up into oblivion? Come on now, just-” 

“My fucking god,” you blurt out, in complete shock at the words that were spilling out of Kazuha’s mouth like emptying an open bucket full of water. “You are a piece of work.” 

Kazuha just laughs, taking the compliment to heart, with some mischief still showing with her closed eyelids. Sakura whines, going silent, shaking as your fingers bruise the same spots where the grip on her waist was first. 

The lust starts to boil to a point where nothing else is given a second though, and it’s been that way for a while now, fueled with a hunger that could replace the morning cup of coffee with ease, watching as your cock vanishes into Sakura’s pussy, the moans hitting similar notes that are now just echoes of the night prior. 

“Ah, uh, almost there." Sakura, once forward in her advances, now reduced to simple begs and pleads, the gaze half-lidded, back arching off the rumples in the sheets. She’s so fucking wet for you, and that’s another mental note that’s circling back in your head for probably the tenth time this morning so far, and might worth mentioning that it’s still in the fucking morning. 

“Oh? Make her do it, babe.” Kazuha orders the go-ahead, a hand - well, actually, both hands full of Sakura’s breasts, claiming it as hers. “I think she’s willing to be killed while being split open.” 

You’re paying zero attention to the words - grunting and passing air - as the piledriving only seems to be the sole constant that your mind and body seem to be focusing on. 

It’s a bit disorienting how your vision blacks out before coming back with color, the mind playing tricks as if you were getting your head dunked underwater and pulled back up, gasping for air. The thrusting never stops, with every fiber in your body, pooling it into fucking Sakura’s open cunt in the best way possible. Her hips are past the breaking point, grinding up against yours. She’s wailing, towards hyperventilation, eyes rolling upward to the back of her head, mouthing, close. You can easily tell, I’m so fucking close for you. Keep ramming your dick into me. 

“Saki,” now you’re saying the other nickname, and Kazuha grins, finally having her moment. “Fuck, baby-” 

Sakura looks away as Kazuha looks up, chin lightly tapping your hips - the devilish smile she possesses - it’s a rare occurrence, but that look could haunt you in your dreams: “Use her pussy, fuck everything up inside of her, I don’t care. Get her creaming all over you. I want to hear her screaming.” 

And Sakura fucking screeches. The better sound to wake up to rather than the annoying alarms on your phone. 

She holds still, every part of her body tensing - knees locking, toes curling, back arching and unarching - as Kazuha holds her down. The noises she’s making are loud enough to slip through the thin walls, and you can guess another complaint from the neighbors would be on the cards. Kazuha takes liberty into treating a barrage of kisses across Sakura’s body, you trying to drag your cock a little bit in, barely managing to drag yourself out. A brief effect from the aftershocks: her midsection freezing as the clamp around your cock starts to subside. 

Sakura whimpers with closed lips, shuddering when you finally slide out of her properly-fucked cunt, leaning down to kiss and kiss and kiss, dick taking the fresh, cold air as it rests along the bottom portion of her waist. Your hands get on her neck, helping her up with the arch in her back, hot and slicked and sweaty. Kazuha gives you two some space, playing as the makeshift crane to pull Sakura away from the clutches of your hands and lips, face racked in disappointment when Kazuha looks at you, smiling, tending to the mess that’s reforming in her arms. 

Kazuha then moves across the bed with her knees, a change in guard from Sakura to her when her body crashes into yours, the press of her lips good enough for you to fall on your back as the arms and chest eventually come into their own, molding with the canvas of your skin to mesh. She’s literally perfect for you - the way she wants more of you - in the taste of your lips, how your fingers explore every area of the framework that’s tensing and relaxing, reaching for spots that get her riled up in every way imaginable. 

You kiss and lick and grab wherever you can. A hand palming the firm skin of her ass, soft and plump. The hickeys and other various bite marks are an earned badge of honor for Kazuha to be proud of, her nails digging into the skin where your shoulders are as the grip on her ass-cheeks starts to become more and more possessive, slapping it as her forehead accidentally clatters yours. 

“Such a klutz,” she assesses, landing a loose kiss on the bottom of your chin. “Still able to think straight after fucking Saki relentlessly?” 

“What do you think?” You rebuke, dazed, as Kazuha gets a finger on a strand of your hair at the front, mimicking her messy bedhead bangs. 

“I mean,” she slips her tongue across your bottom lip, biting along the patch of few hairs, pulling her head back when she notices that your hands have never left the curve of her ass. “I think you’ve got more to offer, and here’s a bonus: there’s one hole that you haven’t filled yet.” 

It’s the most simple movement she could do, with any intent that she wanted to fabricate behind it. She turns around, swaying her ass from the left side as she’s on her hands and knees on the bed, stretching as far as she could possibly get them to reach. The arch starts to form along the fine lines of muscle displayed on her back, arms out straight as her legs find a proper foothold, spreading themselves for you to fill in the space. 

Your hands have never been quick to get themselves on something that you want, and this was the only exception; it’s appalling how easy the soft skin wraps around the underside of your fingers, picturing the look on her hidden face where you can only see the back of her head: in her lidded eyes, the swollen lip being captured between her teeth, the mumbling of insistence when all you’re just doing is feeling her out, resting your dick above her unfathomable cheeks, grazing the underside in the small divot at the middle, pressing them closer together, her hips reeling back and into your thighs, the listless moan spilling out of your mouth when the friction tightens at the belly of your cock. 

In fact, that’s the only thing you keep your focus on, not paying any sort of attention to Sakura when she shuffles out from beneath Kazuha’s lowered and bent body, doing this sort of army crawl to the nightstand for a certain thing. You’ve seen the arsenal that she has in that drawer, and some of the items were actually put to use in the last outing with Sakura and Kazuha. The instinctual thing that you do also is lean over to Kazuha’s backside and get one side of your face nestled into her as your hands wrap their way around her stomach, holding her close. 

Not much is said aside from the shaky exhales and whines, filled in with the occasional smacks of your lips across skin. Until-

“My turn to watch,” announces Sakura, a slim bottle in her hand, wrapped with those long, dainty fingers of hers. 

You blink once, and she’s on the edge where the nightstand is. You blink again, and she’s already made her way back to you, cap opened with the noise similar to an obvious crack of a stick, like breaking the silence in a quiet forest. 

Sakura’s hands become slick, as if her hand were made of the smooth liquid itself. The grip she has on you is breathlessly attractive: palm sliding across the length, strategizing the strokes at every curve and pull while she’s kissing you. 

“Do you have any idea how long she’s been wanting this?” Sakura questions, implicating you as she slaps your cock along Kazuha’s ass. “You’ve told me before: she’s made for you.” 

Utterly speechless is what you are, but maybe you should say something to-

“Gotta fuck her sensless,” Sakura suggests, head perpendicular to yours while the cock in her hands starts to graze the surface of her ass, nudging the opening by just a teeny bit, a small preview of what’s to unfold. “That’s what she wants. What she needs. Isn’t that right, Zuha?” 

“Mhm.” Kazuha hums in agreement, a throaty moan to follow after Sakura gets both hands full of her ass, spreading her open. “All of it,” Kazuha murmurs, chest pulled inwards when you start to descend; the more you fall, the more faster the air expels out of her chest, with a shout thrown in - a last resort call of your name: “fuck, I, hngh, god.” 

You hold for a moment, pussy leaking by the second as she’s taking you fully, expanding to compensate for the girth. An enchanted feeling washes over your body, grabbing to whatever you can of Kazuha’s ass - holding, a still in this moment of time - and this was the only grace period you’ve given her much more than yourself, head falling back because her hips do this movement in your hands, and 

“For fuck’s sake,” you spit, because the suffocating tightness and heat surrounding your cock is one to be unbearable. The pins and needles of pleasure prick all over your nerves as the fine weight of Kazuha’s ass takes you in and out, until you’ve retreated from the impending chamber, pausing as your cock twitches. 

Then you drop the pin inside her, all the way. 

“Fuck!” Kazuha gasps, sewing her eyes shut. Her hands start to grip the sheets. 

There isn’t much time after for her to get used to this, as you start to drive into her more, fucking out every cry that you could suck out of her lips. Her ass does this little ripple effect with every slam, making her feel the thickness where it hurts, hugging your cock in all directions. It’s a gradual push from here on out, building your sense of rhythm again, just like how she was riding you earlier. 

“Finally,” Sakura breathes, kissing Kazuha’s ass cheek, getting her fingers buried on the curve, kneading, showing, and biting. 

The thrusts keep coming. One stroke and the next. Each one after is harder than the last. Your eyes are locked onto Sakura’s side profile, watching your cock disappear in the valley of Kazuha’s ass with every passing movement. Kazuha herself looks over her shoulder, a hand out reaching for something, maybe her thigh, hoping to spread herself even wider so that it’ll be easier for you to stretch her tight hole out. You could feel that she wants more, throwing her ass back to match her strokes with yours, the slaps becoming louder and louder, similar to the moans. 

“So fucking tight,” you grit, your vision loosing sharpness at the top layers. Sakura’s smiling into Kazuha’s sweaty skin. “Like, nobody else could have this but me. Shit-” 

“It’s not every day that you’re gaping a pretty girl’s ass.” Sakura says it excitedly, her head rocking along with the movement of Kazuha’s body in every slam. “Fucking her hole and opening up just for you. God, Kazu, can you believe this? He’s taking you so fucking well; I love the way he just fucks you, like that’s the only thing he’s meant to do. Just drop your pants whenever, and he’ll just take you right then and there- get you craving - over and over and over again, and it could be everything, if you just let him.” 

Kazuha claws deeper into the bedsheets, nearly tearing the fabric, Sakura’s face on Kazuha’s ass-cheek, closing her eyes to feel the motion more. 

Every inch of her body is washed with bliss, curdling in the layers beneath the skin, a form of want that could only, truly, be achieved by you. 

“Baby,” Sakura’s calling out to you this time, face flustered when you realize that she’s got a hand magnetized to the heat between her legs; fingers in its own cyclone, a paradigm of its own when she’s screwing in two, no-three digits inside her cunt, parting her folds in an identical fashion the way that your cock rips open Kazuha’s ass and fucking the lights out of her since that’s the primary reason why she’s connected to you, and Sakura even sit back and watch this unfold in front of her eyes, bear witness to you fucking her friend with every matching heartbeat to the claps, “She could be a heartbreaker for you, and you could fuck her ego until she finally knows her place, like the motherfucking slut that she is.” 

There’s no sense of control left in your bones anymore. All you just do is let Sakura’s words fill your ears as your fingers dig deeper into the firm cheeks of Kazuha, the warm embrace of oil trickling down the plugged-up, puckered ass as your cock picks up the dripping remnants. 

“I-” is what you make of a poor attempt from Kazuha, the vowel replaced with a flat-out gasp, since the irreplaceable feeling of power goes a little bit over the top of your head, a firm thrust to send the message instead as the fucked-out girl at the front of your thighs tumbles out a voice that’s wheezing and whining in croaks. “Fuck. Yes, fuck, fuck, babe.” 

Sakura doesn’t really say many words to you soon after, just mouthing yours, yours. She’s so yours. And even if you could describe the surreal feeling of bending a beautiful girl over across the canvas of your mattress and sheets, there’d probably be nothing else left to say from you. She’s just urging you to keep on trucking Kazuha’s ass, demanding that you’d fuck her until the wheelchair sitting in the dark corner of your closet proved to be a viable solution for her poor legs - when there’s all but that satiated with the proper fucking you’ve delivered. 

“Aw, you like it when she’s all fucked out for you, huh?” Sakura keeps on talking, smiling her heart away, paying no attention to the obscene sounds that Kazuha keeps letting out. You try to come up with a response to Sakura, but you’re lost at the letters caught in the back of your tongue, watching as Kazuha’s beautiful ass envelops all of your cock, balls lightly tapping her cunt when you’ve got it down to the hilt. The moans hit a hitch at the throat, only for it to be drowned out with the unrelenting thrusts into her tight ass and flushing your thighs with hers. 

A snap from one slow hit. Then another. You keep fucking in, one hand alternating between from the rounded end of Kazuha’s waist to her ass-cheek and the other buried into the messy locks of Sakura’s, holding her head in place as the grip around your cock burns across the surface, not failling to keep the pace consistent as it increases the more Kazuha’s walls smother your cock with ease. 

“-perfect,” Kazuha manages to say, the syllables tumbling on top of each other as her whines do this staccato format the more your thrusts chop up the sound. You’re driving your hips so up to the frontside that the ripples start to catch Sakura’s cheek, who’s still laughing when she hears Kazuha try to speak, fucked at the cock stabbing inside her for all that it’s worth. “Stretching me so good, baby, you’ve got it, yes, right there,” and that’s when you see her head fall to the pillow, screaming with all her might when you’ve brought her to the point which- 

“Don’t you dare fucking hide from me.” Sakura scowls, fist full of Kazuha’s hair, forcing her up. The arch in her back is deeper than before, giving you a little more space for you to take inside her ass, inching deeper. This wouldn’t be possible if it wasn’t for the wetness and pulsing throbs your cock emits when you bury yourself in, holding as the grip from her tight ass is something straight out of a mythical creation. “I want him to hear you. Use you. Lower your head again, and I swear to fuck-“

This happens on impulse, or maybe this was the one thought sitting in the back of your mind that couldn’t rest there any longer, pulling your cock out of Kazuha’s ass, finger, and thumb quickly to be wrapped around the base. You’ve got Sakura’s head in your hand still, dragging her across the dune of Kazuha’s cheek, closer to the head of your cock, and she takes the hint fully, lowering her jaw until her teeth pass the head, enveloping you, eyes fluttering shut, and humming out of surprise. 

“You talk too much,” you’re saying to Sakura, mouthful of your cock, tongue slipping and pulling with her head in the ways that she knows you’ve ascended from before. “I thought I had you up on the ropes earlier; guess I didn’t do much, but we can fix that later.” It’s incredibly difficult for you to not lose your insanity, transitioning from Kazuha’s tight ass and into the addicting heat of Sakura’s mouth, taking you past the halfway mark, head dipping past her soft palette and into the hollow of her throat, cheeks puffing and coughing up spit to soak the areas already covered from the wetness in Kazuha’s ass. “Fucking-” 

Sakura’s sharp inhale for air sends you in check, as her welled-up eyes watch your cock sink back into Kazuha’s ass, face crinkling when the tightness is a little hard to break into before you’re sliding back in and out with ease. 

So it just flows the way it goes. A turn-taking kind of structure you’ve established. You thrust inside Kazuha’s tight ass for a few strokes, pull yourself out, and nestle your cock into those pretty lips of Sakura’s. The pair of them humming in approval and giggling under their breaths as you take the fun for yourself, using one hole after the other. Kazuha’s face is riddled with sweat, the hot pink shade running across her cheeks. Sakura’s is also the same, welled-up tears as she holds herself down the hard line of your cock. 

These sluts. Your sluts. Many would’ve wished to be in your shoes. But you’re the lucky pick among the both of them. 

“My good girls,” you mumble, groaning as you up the takes in one tight ass and one pretty fucking mouth. “Could die like this every day, using you two like this. A fucking dream.” 

Sakura guides you back into the rim of Kazuha’s ass, hand posing as the makeshift pipe when your cockhead nudges back into her, groaning like crazy to the added pressure of her fingers and palm. Your body twinges a bit, gradually building up the slaps with every follow-through more quickly than the previous hit. 

“My, fuck- holy fuck-” 

“What’s the matter?” Sakura’s fast to assess the condition as Kazuha’s moans start to bounce around in every wall and corner in the room, watching as you keep fucking yourself into Kazuha and her ass, “Too much to handle? Oh god, you’re about to bust, aren’t you? Kazuha look, he’s going to cum again soon for you, baby.” 

You could probably hear the sirens calling within your head. Kazuha’s hips are moving on their own and not in line with yours. Tensing, tensing, then relaxing, and it flip-flops. You can see in the muscles and how they sort of cramp up per se, how her moans are a lot more vocal as to earlier, when you feel down her cunt and be surprised how she’s oozing in your fingers, her ass clenching around your cock, clinging.

And the brain overload to not blow it makes you pull out, flicking your cock up in the air as you watch the arch in Kazuha’s back deepen. Sakura’s got a palm full of the oil, slathering it nicely - hand coiling you where it feels right. 

“One more push,” Sakura pleads, resting her head down the midline of Kazuha’s back, both hands on her ass, spreading her open for you, “please, just for us.” 

So. 

You do as Sakura says, pressing your cockhead back into the soft coil of muscle, Kazuha’s body greatly accepting you - grabbing and stretching and inviting all of you. She’s buried her head back into the cushion, muffling the pained whines, pulling to the right so that the breathing is a bit easier to tolerate, and the rush soon after is a spell of your own. 

Sakura’s hands hold firm on the plush of her ass, pulling outward and pressing inward when you’ve sheathed yourself, the vice ten times tighter than what it already is. Kazuha’s ass clutches around the head of your cock, and with every pound that you dish out to her, the more audible the clashes of skin are. Your upper body is starting to buck forward, the lower half losing composure in the routine that it built for itself, Kazuha’s mouth is parted open just like Sakura's - mouthing - keep going, yes, fuck my ass, just like that, god, your cock, just need you to-

“Babes, I’m going-” 

That’s really all you say when you’re revealing your cock away from her ass, cumming all over her uncontrollably. 

Shots of white are painted over porcelain. Spent, slick, and messy porcelain. You’re trying to readjust the grip around your cock, pointing your tip inside the open hole of Kazuha, shooting a measly two or three spurts, hips trembling as she gets help from Sakura to hold her ass open for you.

Sakura, unfortunately, gets caught in the crossfire. Earring a few scattered streams of your release all over her face, some in her mouth, and plenty into her hair. 

“Mmmm,” breathes Sakura, tongue running across both upper and lower profiles of her lips, hooking the taste of you on her buds. Kazuha still has her face down, buried in the sheets, ass up, as she could legitimately not move a single muscle in her body after being wrecked for god knows how long. She’s softly sobbing into the pillowcase; bruises spread out across her skin, visible red prints highlighted on her cheeks, but she’s managed to calm down. The breathing is starting to stabilize. “Look at that: two loads from you this morning. You should be proud of yourself.” 

“Should’ve came inside my ass.” Kazuha suggests, finally letting her frame fall to the side as you and Sakura both observe the obvious drip of cum oozing out of her. “This doesn’t technically count, but I want a do-over.” 

You and Sakura both exchange this look with a singular eyebrow, a dragged-out grin soon to follow. “Such a slut for you.” Sakura observes. 

“That isn’t really new news to anyone.” 

-

Some hours later, things get slow. It’s the weekend, or the weekday? You’re too lost to put that setting back in your head, primarily because: 

“Can you guys keep it down?” Sakura asks loudly, not willing to turn her head around away from the TV when you bend your knees a bit and slip inside Kazuha’s cunt against the kitchen counter, hiking up one of your borrowed shirts you gave her to reveal the handprint still apparent on her ass. “I can’t watch the movie if I hear two horny rabbits getting it on behind me.” 

“Fuck you,” Kazuha rasps, mewling when you’ve buried yourself deep to the cornerstone of your cock. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have said no to getting some seconds.” She’s dipping her head down, hiding her face in the wavy locks of her hair, but you can tell her lips are parted when you’ve got a hand to her neck, pulling to flush her backside with your front. “God, yes-” 

“Don’t expect an apology from me,” you’re calling out to Sakura, who took it upon herself to finally twist and see you staring, the pumps inside Kazuha relaxed, and its own thing happening. And Kazuha’s not even moaning yet. “You only have to blame yourself for bringing a physical version of Aphrodite to the place.“ 

Sakura rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the television. “That’s her little secret. I guess. And it’s not my fault that you fall for it every time.” 

The thing is, there isn’t really a secret to be said amongst the three of you. You’ve mapped them out to their little glances - the one quirk that gets them both going for something to follow. Dumb it down to a simple phone call or maybe a cantation laced in the words they whisper into your ear. Sakura’s right: you will fall for it.

Every. Single. Time. 

[akaakeis]

— ⌗ going to a concert with haikyuu boys -- multi .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing(s) :: suna rintarou, bokuto koutarou, kuroo tetsurō, akaashi keiji, and miya atsumu x reader (separate!!)

wc :: ~100-300 words per

notes//cw :: kuroo is a loser,, atsumu is casually getting made fun of by his friends sorry i couldn't help myself there.. happy 200 posts to this blog!!

⟡ suna rintarou would definitely be the one who heard about the concert

⟡ he knew you were into the artist, so he would text you a link to the concert's information and would be like, "wanna go"

⟡ and who would you be to refuse that??

⟡ he would buy the tickets for you guys

⟡ will (slightly) begrudgingly agree to film a fit check with you before the concert

⟡ and the video ends up going viral TRUST

⟡ during the concert he would definitely take photos and videos of the performances, but his main goal would be to get cute pics and vids of you

⟡ whether he would just keeps these to himself or absolutely flaunt the photos? still unclear... who knows honestly.

⟡ he'll do whatever you want to at the concert

⟡ he even jumps around with you a bit

⟡ he thinks it's absolutely adorable how enthusiastic you are about the concert

⟡ if the concert ends late at night, he would drag you into the house and drop you in bed

⟡ he's just as, if not more, exhausted

⟡ he probably dropped into bed right next to you and called it a night 

⟡ will post a few insta stories with pics from the concert that have you in it

⟡ bokuto koutarou is probably even more excited about the concert than you, because you asked him to go with you

⟡ he would definitely be holding onto your hand throughout the concert just to make sure he doesn't lose you

⟡ he probably would be too caught up in watching you and the concert to really take photos and videos

⟡ he's just like really in the moment idk?

⟡ but he's vibing so hard

⟡ he would be scream shouting out lyrics right alongside you 

⟡ DEFINITELY jumping around with you whenever the song is hype

⟡ will be the happiest person ever solely because he gets to go with you and have an awesome time

⟡ for him, if the concert ends late you guys definitely end up driving home and crashing immediately

⟡ showering and everything is tomorrow morning's problem

⟡ he will be talking about that concert to everyone and anyone

⟡ and the thing is, the main thing he'll be talking about is how much fun he had spending that time with you

⟡ kuroo tetsurō was probably the one who heard about the concert

⟡ he would peek into your room like "heyy.." 

⟡ and have the stupidest looking grin on his face too LMAO

⟡ and he would show you the concert info

⟡ when you show excitement about concert he BOOKS IT to his laptop to go buy the tickets i kid you not

⟡ he would plan the entire night out

⟡ will convince you to coordinate outfits with him so that you guys match

⟡ he's just so happy that he gets to do this with you honestly

⟡ at the concert he'll be keeping you close to him the whole time

⟡ he probably binge listened to the artist's music before the concert so that he would be able to sing along with you even if he wasn't really a big fan of the artist

⟡ ...in private, obviously...

⟡ he's convinced you have no idea he did, even though when you log onto the tv spotify app, the only recently played playlists and albums are the artist's music

⟡ well, it worked either way. he was screaming lyrics right along with you

⟡ he would mainly take photos of you at the concert, and he ends up making one of the photos his lockscreen

⟡ on the drive back home, you guys are so exhausted you barely speak to each other 

⟡ you just have the same artist's music playing on the aux as you drive back home

⟡ both of you crash once you're home

⟡ akaashi keiji was probably not thrilled to be hearing you ask if he could go to a concert with you

⟡ but he of course agrees because it's you

⟡ he probably vibes with the artist's music and is a little excited about it

⟡ he holds onto your hand the entire time that you're at the concert

⟡ will take tons of photos, and he'll probably post a couple of you to his socials

⟡ he ends up enjoying the concert a lot more than he thought he would

⟡ he'd probably sing along to a couple of songs, and he would be swaying a bit

⟡ ALSO whenever it's a slower song and people are swaying he would be rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand

⟡ once you guys are off the venue, he'd probably buy you a couple things

⟡ like if you wanted a tshirt he would buy it

⟡ and he would also get you a snack and/or a drink if you wanted one

⟡ if the concert ends late at night, he will carry you into the house and help you get ready to sleep

⟡ but he's just as exhausted as you so he'll probably collapse into bed right after he finishes helping you

⟡ "that was kinda fun."

⟡ this opened the gateway to bringing him to more concerts

⟡ now, he even suggests going to some concerts

⟡ miya atsumu was the one that suggested going to the concert

⟡ he would spam text you until you reply, and then he would send the concert info

⟡ after that he would just be like "wanna go?? 😋"

⟡ he's super happy when you agree to go

⟡ he convinces you to coordinate outfits with him, and he posts a bunch of photos of the fits on his social media

⟡ all of his friends make fun of him and then hype up your outfit HAHAHAH

⟡ he's definitely bitter about it 

⟡ but he can't help but hype you up for your outfit along with his friends

⟡ cause OBVIOUSLY you look gorgeous

⟡ on the drive over to the concert he will be BLASTING the artist's music through the car and you guys will be having a karaoke session in there

⟡ at the concert he will be vibing out sm

⟡ like he heavily fw the concert's atmosphere 

⟡ he will take tons of videos of the concert and will snap a couple photos of you when he sees an opportunity 

⟡ if the concert ends late at night, count on being the one to drive back home

⟡ he will be fast asleep in the passenger's seat 

⟡ you guys absolutely crash when you get back home

notes ::

ᡣ𐭩 yay!! happy 200 posts <3

ᡣ𐭩 honestly i've had this idea for a while but idek how to write headcanons... so here's this!! sorry if it's written weird i kinda just braindumped

ᡣ𐭩 not proofread part 40291715 oops sorry

ᡣ𐭩 there's an obscene amount of tags i'm putting on this it's embarrassing

ᡣ𐭩 any other works can be found on my masterlist!

🏷️ :: @iiwaijime + @bokukos <3

[greenunoreversecard]

Don't hide your pain

-> Angel dust x reader

A/N: I made this of my own violation. I needed to therapize myself

Reader POV, ftm male, who's ✨️traumatized✨️

It always starts like this.

Things go well for a while. Things go great, even.

And then it gets bad. And it stays bad, and i ruin every close relationship and im alone.

And then it repeats.

I just wish I could be better. I guess that's why I'm at the hotel.

Things have been good for a while, so good, infact I though the cycle could be over.

Angel brought so much light to my life. He made me feel so happy, and wanted and needed.

And I was so much better. But it seems like the happier I was the worse i fall.

I sigh, rolling over in my bed, grabbing my phone. Fuck it's late in the day. Charlie will be upset, but i cant seem to care. I just- I don't wanna leave my bed.

I look away from my lockscreen, a blurry picture of angel in my Hoodie chasing after nuggets, who has his phone in his mouth, trying to run away with it. It caught angel off guard, and i was laughing so hard i couldnt get a steady photo.

Its one of my favorite memories. I feel a small smile tug at my lips, but my body and my face feel like led that I can barely move.

Theres a knock at my door.

"Hey, baby. Are you ok? Haven't seen you in a day, and I wanted to make sure ya alright.." I hear his quiet voice as the door squeaking lightly as Angle peeks in, silhouette gently illuminated from the light in the hallway.

I grumble in reply and roll over. He sighs, and for a moment I think he leaves but i feel him sit on my bed, next to me. I can feel his warmth. Despite having the features of a cold-blooded spider, he's always run rather hot.

He rests his hand on my back.

"Baby, I can't help you if you dont talk ta me"

Irritation rises in me.

"Don't. I dont need you. I dont need your fucking pity. Just fuck off, please." I say, voice rough and shoulders tense.

His determination doesn't deter, though.

"I don't pity you, love. I just wanna help."

I know my irritation is irrational, logically. But I can't help being angry. Angry I am this way, angry I'm so helpless. And I'm ahry he has to see me like this, considering he has it so much worse. He deserves better than this. Better than me. But I can't seem to stop the slow of my defensive anger, vomiting out words I'm uncertain seraid him I know they do me coming out my mouth.

"Don't pretend, angie."

"I'm serious, though. I want to help."

"Don't play with me. I don't need you, and I don't need your pity."

"Why are you doing this?"

This freezes me. I tense. I don't know why I do this. I don't know why I'm hurting him. I don't know why I'm hurting myself by hurting the only person thats treated me like a fucking sentient being..

I realise, at this point, he's as rigid as a brick, and I look over at him. He tears in the corners of his eyes, eyes slighrly red from the effort it takes to stop his tears. His hair is a mess, and he's shaking, God's he's shaking.

"I- please, sugar. I just wanna help you but- but I can't if you push us away. I you push me away. I- I don't wanna lose you. I can't fucking lose you. And I can feel you sliping and its- it's scary. Please, if not for you then for me."

At this, a sob wracks its way through my body, every viceral emotion I've held back hitting me like a dam destroyed. Apologies spewing through my lips like it's a lifeline. And in a way, it is. Because, I know hes right. And I know if I continue on the way I do, I'll be destroyed at my own hands. And I'll lose him, I'll lose my lifeline.

...

..

.

I don't know how long I cry for. It's all kind of blurry, really. I know i tell him everything ive hid from him about my life through choked sobs, and at some point he's holding me to his chest, gently stroking my hair, touch gentle but deep, afraid to let me go as if I'll disappear, or break like glass.

The good never used to last for long, but maybe this time I can make it last forever.

So long as I have him.

--------------

End note: vv rushed lmfao. Anywhore, hopes this gives a small gauge as to my writing style. I can also try my hand at different possibilities.

Hope ye likey likey

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

koa is my child 🥹🫶🏻 also i finished the video game au, its here

part fifteen

❝ EXPLODING GATORADE ❞

MONDAY — JULY 23 — 8:01AM

THE DINING HALL WAS THE SINGLE LARGEST ROOM BENTLEY HAD EVER SEEN IN HIS WHOLE LIFE.

It had to be, like, two whole gymnasiums put together. The whole thing had this old, restored hardwood, the walls lined with dark wainscoting. There were iron chandeliers dangling from the ceiling that had to cost more than his internal organs, and there were at least, like, three hundred fancy wooden tables peppered across the room.

Bentley blinked. There were lots of uniformed students in there (probably, like, a few hundred), filling the room with an overlapping buzz of excited voices, moving here and there, from table to table.

Redwood Academy also had the absolute bane of his entire existence -- a food line.

Bentley hated food lines.

As soon as they entered the dining hall, Valor, who was leading the pack (and getting stared at, because apparently even metahumans weren't very used to wings.) plopped his bag down at one of the tables closest to the door.

"Man, the line is already closed," He muttered. Which had to be the single most pleasant thing Bentley had heard all morning. At this point, he'd take absolutely anything to help ease his crippling anxiety.

“We did leave over half an hour after we were supposed to,” Koa replied, putting his bag on the round table, too, with a thump. Bentley followed behind them and chose a random wooden chair — Varian ended up to his left, Bellamy to his right. Asten was straight across.

“Don’t worry, I’m here to save the day,” Varian said from Bentley’s side — he looked… not so dead anymore. Presentable, with a little actual color to his skin and life to his eyes. He pulled his red backpack off his back and unzipped it, stuck his hand in, and retracted it with a whole box of s'mores flavored pop-tarts that he tossed on the table. “Ta-da.”

Bentley almost wondered why he carried around so many pop tarts, but he guessed it was incase his blood sugar went low throughout the day. Bentley was starting to understand him a little more — if the machine said it was low, eat. If it said it was high, push buttons.

That was pretty much the extent of his knowledge. (But it was more than it had been, like, two days ago. Which was good.)

Valor grabbed the box of pop-tarts and pulled one out, passing it along to Rockie.

“Does anyone have Ms. Heidi for English first period?” Koa questioned, pulling a schedule out of his pocket that already looked crumpled and torn, like it had been through a war. “I think I might die in her class alone.”

Bentley blinked, pulling his phone out of his blazer pocket and clicking it on. (He definitely hadn’t made his schedule his lockscreen wallpaper so he didn’t have to keep up with the page… and his home screen wallpaper definitely wasn’t the map of the campus buildings…)

He hummed in acknowledgment when he scanned the teacher’s name under his first period class. “I do.”

"Thank goodness," Koa breathed, grabbing the pop-tart box as Rockie handed it to him, pulling one out and sliding it to Asten. "We can suffer together."

Bentley wasn't sure he wanted to know what that meant.

"I have math first," Rockie announced with a shudder. He had already given up on opening his pop-tarts the right way and was now just shaking the bag violently, creating a loud rustling noise that made heads from a few surrounding tables turn. "Who wants to do math at eight in the morning?"

"Literally no one," Valor replied. Rockie's pop-tart flew out of his hand and hit Koa in the side of the head, to which Koa replied by impulsively throwing his own package of pop-tarts back at him. They hit Rockie's head with a flap and fell into his lap.

Bentley stayed quiet, watching the pop-tart box move from Asten, to Varian, and then to him. There was only one pack left by the time it made it to him.

He pulled it out, set the empty box on the table, and held it out toward Bellamy.

Bellamy looked at the silver package with a few shocked blinks, then shifted his gaze to Bentley, like he half expected him to snatch it away and laugh in his face as soon as he reached for it. Bentley didn't move -- only looked back at Bellamy for a quiet moment.

Eventually, Bellamy's gaze broke away from his own, and he slowly slid it out of his fingertips.

"I have trigonometry this year. Which translates to actual living hell," Valor muttered, taking a bite out of one of his pop-tarts. "And not a soul I know is in it with me."

"Ugh -- that's rough," Varian grumbled.

There was a sudden skidding noise, and Bentley looked down just in time to catch a pack of pop-tarts that was sliding across the table to him. When he glanced up, his eyes met Asten's.

He slid them back.

Valor kept talking, but Bentley didn't hear. He was too focused on the fact that Asten had narrowed his emerald eyes into nothing more than slits and was glaring at him like he'd cut off all his hair while he was sleeping.

Asten slid them back, again.

Bentley scrunched up his face at him, but Asten kept on glaring, like he was just daring him to slide them back. He got this triumphant look on his face when Bentley reached up and peeled open the silver packaging, pulling out one of the tarts.

Then he slid the other one back to him.

Asten feigned another glare as he caught the silver package, but said nothing; and even despite all the glowering he was doing, he never slid it back.

Bentley took a small bite out of the corner of the tart, which tasted like cardboard and very fake chocolate.

"You're eating these without a toaster? Psychotic, all of you," Koa grumbled, though he, too, was opening his package. "What a bunch of weirdos."

"No one puts pop-tarts in the toaster!" Varian argued, and Koa made an exasperated sound.

"They're called pop-tarts because they pop! Out of a toaster!"

“You’re canceled,”

Bentley simply watched the exchange play out in front of him, keeping quiet. If he listened hard enough, he could hear other conversations from around the room, and if he listened harder than that, he could hear hundreds of heartbeats. He made purposefully sure not to listen that hard.

Instead, he watched the other students move about the room. They were all wearing uniforms that matched his, except the girls were wearing green and gold checkered skirts that he was pretty sure some had rolled at the top so they were purposefully shorter.

There wasn’t much personalization that could be done with their uniforms, so most students seemed to take liberties with other things, like jewelry, makeup, and hair. There were a lot more kids at Redwood with colored hair than there had been at Gotham Academy. Asten had stuck out like a sore thumb there with his blue hair, but here, he sort of fit in — just in the dining hall alone, Bentley could see heads of blue, green, red, pink, and orange peppered across the room. Some of the girls wore dainty, pretty jewelry, while others covered every available part of their faces and ears with piercings, and had their wrists completely hidden from view by bracelets. There were some girls he wasn’t even sure what their faces looked like through all their makeup — and while there had been a few of those at Gotham, there were not nearly as many as there were at Redwood.

(He did guess Redwood was in New York, though — which probably made a big difference in variety. It took a special kind of person to settle down and have kids in Gotham.)

A few more minutes passed where he simply listened to his roommates chatter about everything and nothing, continuously glancing at the time on his phone. It felt like hours of listening and staring and checking until the time flicked from 7:54am to 7:55am, and a loud bell emanated through the hall, bouncing off the walls and echoing out the doors.

Everyone moved at once -- including everyone at his table -- the already loud chatter increasing in volume. Bentley stood and gathered his things with a sigh, shoving the rest of his half eaten pop-tart in his mouth. His first class was English, which was in the Austen building, he thought, which was… somewhere outside. Among the dozens of other buildings that all looked the same.

The seven of them integrated into the crowd of students moving like a school of fish toward the doors, and Bentley made sure to keep Koa’s curly blonde hair in his view, because he seemed to know where he was going.

As they worked their way out of the building with what seemed like every other teenager in the world, all packed into the halls like sardines, Bentley felt a tug on his blazer sleeve.

When he glanced down, Bellamy had the fabric balled up in one of his hands, staying close by his side to avoid getting lost in the crowd.

Bentley let him.

—

Completely unbeknownst to Bentley, the Austen building was all the way across the entire campus. Which left him and Koa no other option but literally running to make it there on time — which most of the students were also doing, so at least they didn’t look out of place. Bentley was one-hundred percent sure they looked like they’d just survived a hurricane by the time they stumbled through the doors of the building, and he was thankful there were no teachers in the nearly-empty halls to give them dirty looks about running indoors. The place looked very similar to the dorm buildings, though the halls were swirling by so quickly Bentley didn’t have much time to look in much detail — hardwood, fancy lights, and dark wainscoting was about all he really managed to catch.

He and Koa pounded up a few flights of wooden stairs, Bentley staying right on his heels. He’d said he knew where he was going, so he was relying on him entirely — thankfully, it paid off.

They crossed the threshold of a classroom Bentley definitely wouldn’t be able to find his way back to, mere milliseconds before the late bell rang.

(He was never leaving the dorm after seven again.)

Unsurprisingly, they seemed to be the last ones there. The room was large, set up like a lecture hall with several ascending levels of tables that were all curved to face a center podium. There was almost a whole wall of windows, one of which was open to let the breeze in. There had to be at least twenty-five other students in there, chattering softly, and even when he scanned the teacher’s desk nestled into the front corner of the room, there was no teacher in sight. All eyes were immediately on them -- Bentley took to scanning for empty seats instead of looking at anyone, which rewarded him with an empty two-person table in the very back left corner of the room, on the highest level.

Koa seemed to see it, too, because he was making his way there before Bentley even got a chance to move.

He followed behind, painfully aware of all the dozens of eyes that were on him, keeping his gaze glued to the hardwood that was moving under his feet. (Of course they’d be the last ones to class on their first day, looking ridiculous because they’d just run full-speed across the entire campus. Why wouldn’t they?)

He and Koa made it to the back desk without doing anything dumb, like falling or embarrassing themselves.

Bentley took a seat in the rightmost wooden chair and hung his backpack on the back of it. He took a minute to scan the room in better detail, this time -- all the available wallspace was taken up by various posters of musicals, plays, books, and the like. The desk in the front corner was littered with little figures and knick-knacks that looked really weird and confusing. There was a bookshelf shoved against the wall in every spot there could be, full of colorful hardcovers, a giant, multicolored rug spread on the lowest level beneath the podium, and curtains varying in color on all of the windows. It was then that he noticed the tables were numbered, too -- the one he and Koa had claimed had a blue laminated paper stuck on it, with the number 14 written on in fancy calligraphy.

“Where’s the teacher?” Bentley questioned softly, glancing over at Koa and unzipping his bag. He pulled out a blue binder that he had dubbed his English binder.

Koa sighed lightly when he sat down in his chair, pulling out a small ringed notebook from his bag.  “You’ll see.”

Bentley said nothing; but, for the record, he did not enjoy the cryptic responses.

“Have you had her class before?” He continued, and Koa glanced over at him, nodding.

“Yeah, I had her last year. She’s very… eccentric,”

“What’s that mean?”

“Weird,”

Well, at least she wasn’t going to kidnap them and turn them into metahumans, Bentley thought sourly. The class continued to sit and chatter, reveling in the newfound freedom of, apparently, having no professor at all. There were two tables of girls a few rows in front of them that kept giggling and looking back, their faces flushing pink every time they stole a glance to their table. There was a table of two boys next to them, too, who kept looking at the girls, then across the room at Bentley and Koa like they were considering murder.

It didn’t take a genius to realize those girls were utterly mesmerized by Koa. (Why wouldn’t they be? He was California.)

As much as Bentley expected him to make some kind of response, he just sighed, turning to face him instead. “So… how are you liking Redwood so far?” Was what he came up with to say, though Bentley was pretty sure he was just trying to get those girls to stop being so weird about him.

Bentley shrugged, glancing down at his binder. “I mean, I like it. I like you and our roommates, but the party thing was a little… stressful.”

Koa shrugged. “I get that. Sorry, by the way. I guess we should’ve given it some thought before going and getting everyone drunk with new kids in the dorm.”

“It’s okay,” Was all Bentley said. “You don’t have to change what you do on my account.”

Koa shrugged, glancing down at his notebook. “Not just you -- I’m pretty sure Bellamy is traumatized.”

“Why?” Bentley questioned. Koa glanced back up at him with a shrug.

“He was sleeping on the couch when Valor started dragging us all back to the dorm. We were all pretty sick and out of it, woke him up. He ran to his room and I’m… pretty sure he started crying. But I’m not sure why,” Koa admitted, blinking at the table beneath his hands. “He’s… I don't know. Seems really… young. I’m not sure why they roomed him with us. I think he’s horrified of all of us except you.”

Bentley shrugged lightly. Why, of all people, did Bellamy gravitate toward him? He wasn’t like Dick, or Jason, or Bruce, or any of the people he gravitated to when he was younger.

No, he was like Tim. Tim who had anxiety, too, who thought he was a burden, who wanted the very best for everybody but himself. Tim who dealt with the same things Bentley dealt with, who knew what to do because he’d been through it, too. 

Was that why Bellamy…?

“Do you think he’d be more comfortable with kids his age?” Bentley questioned, glancing down at his binder, then back up at Koa.

Koa shrugged, repeatedly flicking the pages of his notebook. “I’m not sure he’d be comfortable anywhere. Feeling safe at this school is a process for everyone, since pretty much none of us have pleasant backgrounds.”

Bentley hummed in agreement, quietly noting the fact that Koa had basically admitted to not having a pleasant background, tabling that fact in the back of his mind. He didn’t know much about Koa, really, other than the fact that he was from California and lived with a really young guy who took care of him. He wondered where he came from.

Suddenly, a crumpled up piece of letter paper hit Koa in the back of the head with a quiet thwack, bouncing down onto their table. Bentley blinked, glancing across the room to see who it’d come from -- the four girls were now quieter, facing forward, and the two boys were watching them like hawks with these mischievous looks on their faces.

Koa rolled his eyes, grabbing the paper and unraveling it. Bentley could see words and a drawing faintly from the underside, but he couldn’t quite make it out. So he paid attention to his expression instead, watching carefully as Koa scanned the words, seeming mostly unbothered -- but his eyes widened slightly when they flicked down to the drawing. He kept his expression closely bridled, probably to not give the other boys the satisfaction they wanted, but Bentley was in-tune enough with the subtleties of people's mannerisms (thanks to his father.) that he didn’t miss the quiet inhale Koa sucked in upon first glance at the doodle, the way his eyebrows pitched inward the slightest bit. Bentley heard those other boys laughing and muttering from across the room.

Koa crumbled up the paper again and shoved it in his blazer pocket, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t look at anyone, either.

Bentley glanced over at the pair of boys, who were chuckling and laughing amongst themselves. The left one, one with black hair and dead, brown eyes, turned back toward Koa and made a sad face where he puckered his bottom lip out. Then he laughed with his friend and reached into his bag, withdrawing a bottle of red Gatorade. 

So Bentley just sat there, looking awfully innocent as the drink all but exploded in his face with a pop. Red liquid went everywhere -- up his nose, in his hair, all over his uniform and the table and his friend. The girls next to them burst into laughter, as did most of the other students around the room.

Koa blinked a few times, then glanced over at Bentley, who looked back at him and shrugged lightly.

A small smile tugged on the corners of Koa’s lips, and Bentley watched the boy rise from his desk, wiping his red-coated face with the also-soaked sleeves of his blazer. “What the hell, McClaine?!”

Koa shrugged innocently. “You know what my powers are -- I didn’t do a thing.”

Apparently, Bentley either looked too innocent and harmless, or the mean guy didn’t want to waste time on him -- because he marched out of the classroom, closely followed by his friend, and left all the other students catching their breath from laughter. 

Koa glanced over at him, smiling lightly. “Thanks,” He whispered, though it still had sort of a sad sound to it, if he listened hard enough.

Bentley smiled faintly back at him. “You’re welcome.”

--

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere @skylathescholarly @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[nytehavyn-circle]

send “ȹ” for my muse to accidentally send your muse nudes.

Tolaas heard his cell beep and buzz as it received a message. He sat up from the couch, reached for his phone. He swiped the lockscreen, to get to the phone icons, and hit the text icon.

Oh, he had a text from Anne! He opened it and nearly dropped the phone when he saw the pictures. "Holy shit!" he nearly shouted. "Uh... uh... oh god," he stammered out loud. "This was a mistake, had ta be..." Tolaas talked to himself out loud quite often.

He stared at the pictures for a few moments, becoming immensely turned on. Good hell, she had a gorgeous body. Nope, nopeti=y, nope, nope! This was wrong.

Tolaas texted her back.

[TEXT: Anne - Unrequited] Hey, uh, do you realize what you just sent me??

@frombehindpaleeyes

[nattaphum]

1st pic: apo today ❤️ 18/07/2023

The fan who met him said: i went to pick up my nephew. At first i wasn’t sure that it was him. I saw him eating pudding. When I walked closer to him i realized that it was himmm. He is very cute, nice, good mannered. I asked him to take a photo. He was surprised that I wanted to take a pic with him. He might’ve got confused “how can an auntie know me?” ahahah so i showed him my phone lockscreen. He said "My mommy really ahahah". I told I’m a grandmommy. When other people noticed that Apo was there, he left quickly. Today he might have not been prepared for meeting anyone but he was lovely as always.

2nd pic: Mile with Ta Worraseth

According to Mile’s outfit, it seems like the pic was taken a few days ago and not today. Ta Worraseth used the hashtag “coming soon” so probably new content of Mile playing the guitar will be dropped in the next days 💚. Apparently Ta is the guitar player of various artists! He has a personal YT channel (where he probably will release the video with Mile)

3rd pic: 07/17/2003

Photo of a fan who met him on the street :)

4th pic: Apo @ The Decorum Bkk

Apo was tagged in what seems to be a throwback pic from the other day!

[ofcartographers]

○ little lady — johnny “soap” mactavish/simon “ghost” riley — fluff

「 Soap lets out a bark of laughter before yanking out his phone from his pocket, shoving the device in Ghost’s face. “Ye mean my cat, ye daft cunt?” Displayed on his lockscreen is a picture of a pristine white cat, with its baby blue eyes boring holes into the camera, its nose upturned almost in a feline sneer — if Ghost squints he can see the inscription of ‘Little Lady’ on its bejeweled collar. --- ᴏʀ: there's a misunderstanding and Ghost thinks 'Little Lady' is Soap's girl and gets jealous 」

Ghost wasn’t typically one for water cooler gossip, especially for asinine topics such as latest shags. 

He had resigned himself to ending his workout early and perhaps later returning to the fitness center when there were less nuisances around, when a certain Scot found himself the center of attention.

“Speaking of birds, I’ve heard you got one, MacTavish?” A nameless Sergeant asks. 

Ghost decides that perhaps he can stay a bit longer and finish up his session on the punching bag. 

The Scot pushes himself up from his reclined position on the weight bench with a huff. “Yer aff yer heid!” Soap laughs breathlessly, slumping over to catch his breath from his recent set.

“You taking the piss? Who’s this ‘Little Lady’ then?” Nameless Sergeant chuffs. Ghost is beginning to dislike him. 

Soap visibly perks at the mention of the name. “Och aye! My Little Lady? Sweetest little puss you’ll ever see—” 

Ghost punches the bag hard enough to knock it off-kilter, its chains rattling loudly as it wobbles to-and-fro. The entire room falls silent and all eyes are suddenly on him. 

He says nothing and exits the room in angry strides. No one stops him.

---

It’s easy enough for Ghost to avoid certain people should he desire to do so — after all, it is one of the reasons for his moniker.

It becomes less difficult to do so when it’s a member of the 141 and Price is involved. It’s just the Captain and Ghost pouring over mission proposals and leave logistics — one of the caveats of higher ranks — when Soap decides to pop on by.

Dressed in a faded hoodie that’s seen better days and a duffle bag slung loosely over his shoulder, Soap acknowledges his two superiors with a wide grin. “Captain! LT!” He waves with his free hand.

Ghost merely gives a grunt and the slightest nod of acknowledgement in return. “Soap!” Price returns with a nod and eyes his luggage. “Heading home to Glasgow then?” He quips.

Soap chuckles and nods, thumbing his nose almost bashfully. “Aye, I’ve been away from my Little Lady too long.” Ghost tenses at the pet name, but says nothing, instead choosing to focus on the suddenly interesting paperwork that’s set in front of him.

“Good, lad!” Price nods, and Ghost swears he sees Soap preen at this. “Well, don’t let us keep you then.” And just like that, the Captain is waving him off, “Oh, and say ‘hi’ to Elsie for me.” Ghost’s head snaps up at this. Sod the paperwork.

“Will do. Ta!” Soap calls out and he’s gone before Ghost can even say anything.

Ghost feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him. “Price, you know about her?” He manages to croak out, unable to bring himself to say her name.

Price looks at him as if he’s grown three heads. “About Elsie? Of course I bloody know about her. Even met her a few times.” He scoffs incredulously and his eyes start to soften and he’s giving Ghost the same look as one would a wounded animal and— 

“I need a smoke” Ghost announces suddenly and leaves before Price can get a word in.

---

It had been a couple of weeks since the ‘incident’ in Price’s office, and a few more since Ghost had seen Soap last. He knew it was inevitable they would cross paths again, though he wasn’t quite anticipating Soap to plop down next to him in the mess hall.

A rough hand claps him on the shoulder, accompanied by the warmth of a body pressing into his side as the Scot slides into the seat next to him. “Ghost,” he regards with a nod, removing his hand after a beat too long — the warmth of his hand, immediately missed.

Like moths to a flame, Soap attracts the unwanted attention of others in the room and suddenly the empty table Ghost had been sitting at moments prior was nearly full, much to his displeasure and had resolved on finishing up his meal quickly when a nuisance makes himself known.

“Looks like someone had a good leave, eh?” Nameless Sergeant tuts from behind Soap, hooking a finger into the collar of the Scot’s t-shirt and tugging it aside to put the tanned skin of his shoulder on display.

If Ghost strains his eyes, he can just barely make out a few lines of what appear to be scratches peeking out from the now disarrayed collar of Soap’s stupidly tight t-shirt.

Soap slaps away the offending hand and struggles to tug his collar back in place. “Awa’ an bile yer heid!” He blusters, the tips of his ears now red with embarrassment.

Nameless Sergeant just laughs and slides into the open seat next to Soap. “Your ‘Little Lady’ do that t’ya?” He hums, slinging an arm around Soap’s shoulder casually. He’s much too close for Ghost’s liking and decides that he definitely dislikes the man.

Soap tenses at the contact but doesn’t move to shake him off. “Aye” He sighs and hangs his head, his hand absentmindedly fiddling with his mohawk — a nervous habit of his, Ghost notices.

Clearly the Nuisance isn’t finished digging his own grave because his next question makes Ghost freeze mid-bite. “Got any pics?” Nameless Sergeant asks and Soap nods, digging in his pocket for his phone and pulling it out for him to see. Ghost can’t see his screen — he doesn’t want to.

As soon as Soap begins swiping through his photo album, people begin clamoring around him for a glance at his Little Lady —  it’s a mixed reaction, with a few chuckles here and there with the occasional coo, which strikes Ghost as odd.

“Nice pussy,” Nameless Sergeant sniggers at a particular picture.

Ghost slams down his fist on the table, and the entire mess hall goes dead silent — all eyes are on him. 

Soap looks at him with eyes wide, his brow wrinkled with concern. “Ghost?” He asks meekly, his hand reaching out for his shoulder and—

He can’t deal with this. Ghost abruptly pushes himself up from his seat, yanks down his balaclava that’s bunched around his nose, and storms out of the mess hall. This time someone tries to stop him.

“Ghost!” Soap is yelling after him, but he ignores him and increases his strides. “Simon!” Ah, shit. His steps falter.

Soap wastes no time in catching up to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder to keep the taller man in place — Ghost doesn’t have the heart to shrug him off. “What?” He grounds out through clenched teeth.

The hand on his shoulder gives a surprisingly sharp tug and he’s now about-face with his Sergeant. “Why’re ye up to high dogh?” Soap pants, his face red — though Ghost isn’t sure whether it’s from exertion or fluster.

And because he’s a right bastard, Ghost can’t help the sneer that escapes him. “English, MacTavish,” he coos instinctively — old habits die hard.

The tips of Soap’s ears turn red and his flush spreads down his neck — ah, so fluster then. “What the fuck is your problem?” The Scot grits out slowly, making sure to enunciate each word clearly, masking his accent entirely.

Soap is attempting to stare him down and his grip that’s now fisted in the bigger man’s shirt is unyielding — stubborn bastard. “Christ, Johnny!” Ghost finally snaps. “I don’t want to hear about that shite from you. Especially about your bloody girl!” He spits, his voice laced with venom especially at the mention of Soap’s ‘girl.’ 

Soap’s eyes have gone wide and his mouth is agape — it takes a few seconds of him slowly blinking before he’s shouting. “What girl?!” He actually throws his hands up in exasperation. It’s almost comical.

Ghost arches a brow at Soap’s confusion, but chooses to remain steadfast. “Your ‘Little Lady’?” He scoffs — he still refuses to say her name.

Soap lets out a bark of laughter before yanking out his phone from his pocket, shoving the device in Ghost’s face. “Ye mean my cat, ye daft cunt?” 

Displayed on his lockscreen is a picture of a pristine white cat, with its baby blue eyes boring holes into the camera, its nose upturned almost in a feline sneer — if Ghost squints he can see the inscription of ‘Little Lady’ on its bejeweled collar.

Ghost feels gut-punched. “What?” Is all he can manage to croak out.

The Scot points an accusatory finger at the bigger man’s chest and starts laughing breathlessly. “You’re jealous!” He accuses, tears start to form in the corner of his eyes from laughter.

Ghost doesn’t say anything.

“Over a cat!” Soap howls with laughter.

Ghost bristles at this. “Shut. Up.” He hisses.

Soap continues to crowd into his space until they’re pressed chest-to-chest — the finger that was digging into his chest, now curls into his collar.  “Make me.” He breathes, peering up at Ghost through wet lashes, his doe-eyed gaze focusing on Ghost’s clothed covered mouth.

Ghost lifts up his balaclava and acquiesces, of course.

[kejklir]

mimochodem konečně jsem si změnil svůj lockscreen jelikož jsem si uvědomila že tvůj attack je v perfektním formátu na to :-)) předtím to byl x měsíců tahák na časování ve španělštině, kterou už jako předmět ani nemám vzhledem k tomu že už mám dobrej měsíc odmaturováno 🤦

😊 ten tahák na slovíčka pociťuju a ta velikost ani nebyl záměr ale sedí pěkně

[boc-edits]

☁️ kinnporsche cast — simples ♡︎

☁️ like/ reblog if you've saved/ if you are using.

☁️ © please do not repost ; be honest!

hello there! i'm the new adm, maju fala meu povo, sou a nova adm, maju

[kpop-locks]

podem fazer lockscreen do boynextdoor, com as fotos dos concept photos de HOW? por favor e obrigado.

ja ta feito nos rascunhos amg, só esperar uns dias e vai ser psotado!!

[trivialoveclub]

hiii 💛 i was tagged by 🌠 @oldestar 🌠 to post my lockscreen wallpaper, last song i listened to, and the last picture i took! ta da! ☺️✨️

tagging these cuties 🌻: @moonlattae @te1epathy @7lesbian @m8nstruck @tr1vialove

[thanatopraxy]

Ta-dah!!!!! My magnum opus!!! As I explained yesterday, my phone allows up to 15 pics as lockscreen at the same time! Mesning that whenever I turn off/on the screen, I get a different picture! I added only two tho

[engin4r]

rules: post your lockscreen, last song you listened to, last photo you took and last image you saved 🍃

@bezcanta !!! tesekkurler bebekim ♡

ben de @greenleavesmakemecringe @princebluebell ve @kes-ta-ne yi etiketliyorum, eğer yapmak isterlerse uwu