#well i guess it iz what it iz

[strigital]

when you can feel your brain start to slowly and menacingly shift to another hyperfixation, but you're not nearly done enjoying your current one, yet alas, there's no way to stop this wheel from moving onward, so you're on your knees pleading with your brain like:

[gxtzeizm]

okay so i went to the open day at my residential college here which there's literally have lots of food vendors and thrift sales....and i got jumpscared when i saw this....

like bruhhhhh...nothing terrifies me unless it's related with that energy can brand lmaooooooo

[iznsfw]

Lucid Dream

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju

IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut

8,525 words

Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person

Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)

Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!

Wonyoung is beautiful.

You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.

The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.

Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace. 

Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.

Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.

“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.

Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.” 

She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive. 

All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her. 

Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.

She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing. 

She’s the prettiest woman in the world.

You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch. 

“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”

“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”

Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.

So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.

It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.

“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.

Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.

She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing. 

You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?

To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.

To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.

You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”

If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation. 

She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”

The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.

You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”

You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps. 

You don’t. 

You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.

-

2:05 a.m., more specifically.

-

Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.

But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?

Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.

Maybe you need the real thing.

Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks. 

You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.

“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.

And it says the exact same thing.

fuck me please, i cant take it anymore. 

i miss you 

You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t. 

The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.

But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?

Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her. 

What you’d give to have good sex like that again. 

XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.

Fine. Click it, you’re curious.

Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.

The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.

There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.

There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name: 

No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.

That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away. 

And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea. 

That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past. 

But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply. 

Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family. 

Stop texting me or I’ll block you. 

It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?

:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.

You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.

Stop it.

She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her. 

But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.

Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:

alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…

You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast. 

You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door. 

Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?

Open the door. This one did.

Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink. 

How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.

“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed. 

She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”

The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything. 

So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.

You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”

In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.

She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.

The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.

Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.

She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”

You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.

“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”

“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.

You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away. 

You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again. 

Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.

Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.

You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?

Well, because of her.

Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.

It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?

Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.

You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.

Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.

“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”

When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know. 

“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”

You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth. 

You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen. 

Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”

“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”

“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”

The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.

You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.

It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.

Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.

“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.

She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair. 

“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”

Yeah, that’s what she wants.

You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.

Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.

Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.

Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past. 

That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.

Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”

If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.

You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.

“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”

Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that? 

“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”

Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone. 

“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”

However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed. 

“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”

Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck. 

She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.

“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”

Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.

“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”

Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.

Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”

Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.

You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.

Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.

Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.

But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.

It was you on your wedding day.

You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”

The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile. 

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.

Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her. 

You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh!” 

What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.

Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips. 

“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”

That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her. 

“Keep your whore mouth shut.”

Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder. 

Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.

But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.

You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you. 

“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”

Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”

“What if I say yes?” 

“Fuck.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”

Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you. 

No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb. 

This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—

—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”

You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear. 

Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.

“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”

Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”

You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal. 

That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically. 

“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”

Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste. 

She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.

“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”

“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”

 It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.

Not quite.

Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food. 

But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”

Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?” 

“You know exactly where.”

Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.

“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”

You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”

The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.

It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together. 

Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers. 

“Daddy,” she whines.

Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”

It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.

You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief. 

The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.

You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips. 

Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.

Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity. 

The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”

You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit. 

Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again. 

You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.

“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”

“Are you sure you want to act like that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”

Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her. 

Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt. 

You know what she’d choose.

Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again. 

No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too. 

Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.

“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet.  “Just… fuck me. Please?”

“As long as you—”

“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.” 

She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.

The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.

Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.

It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?

Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white. 

“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”

She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears. 

“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”

There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming.  This roughness is nowhere close to natural.

You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt. 

But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it. 

The tears finally fall from her eyes. 

The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.

Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.

Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.

Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.

So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.

Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.

Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.

You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.

“Daddy… daddy…” 

Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.

“Not a single sound,” you remind her. 

She nods. Good girl.

Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.

Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.

Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.

“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”

Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes. 

Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.

Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.

“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”

Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.

“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”

Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”

Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby. 

Minju got what she wanted in the end.

-

The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying. 

It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you. 

“What’s wrong?” you’ll say. 

She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.

And you?

You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 3

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, bad proofreading Wordcount: 6K A/C: a little post win celebration!! enjoy this ;)

-

Before London

I check my phone, 6:30AM. Way too early for anything, let alone a meeting. Climbing into my Jeep, I pull out of the parking lot onto the road, only to come to a sudden stop, my foot stepping on the break before I can think. Standing there, in the early morning sun painting her skin golden, is Izara, holding her phone and tapping her heeled foot on the ground impatiently. She’s in a black sheath dress that hugs her body all the way down to her ankles, not too tight to be inappropriate, but snug in just the right places to leave me wanting more. There’s a thick leather belt on her waist, the golden buckle matching her earrings perfectly. Naturally she looks perfect, the slight frown on her face only making her more beautiful.

I pull up next to her, rolling down the passenger window.

“Yo, Zari!”

She jumps before finally seeing me, her hard face softening.

“Oh my goodness, you scared me,” the girl chuckles, her hand on her chest from the surprise. “What are you doing up this early?”

“I gotta meeting, some promo stuff,” I explain. “Where you headed?”

Zari looks around and I can tell she’s growing frustrated, letting out an annoyed laugh. “Well I’m supposed to be heading to work but my Uber isn’t here and isn’t answering any calls or anything,” she complains. “I’m literally about to be late, and Linda is going to murder me with her own, cold hand-”

“Woah, woah, we’re a mess here but we don’t do that even in America,” I laugh, reaching over to push the door open for Izara. “Lemme drive you Iz.”

She thinks for a while, looking around and finally sighing in defeat, climbing gracefully into my Jeep. 

“Are you sure you have time?” She asks, concerned as she crosses her legs and locks eyes with me. Like clockwork, my chest begins to pound, but I let it. I don’t wanna look away from the green of her pupils just yet.

“You going to the Wings office building?” I ask, leaning against my seat. The girl nods.

“That’s perfect, I was going that way already,” I lie, knowing it was 20 minutes in the opposite direction. But I couldn’t leave Izara in trouble, and she seemed so worried with that frown on her face. This is worth being late for.

“Thank you darling, you’re an angel. Really.” Zari sighs in relief, reaching over to pat my forearm. The goosebumps are immediate, spreading all over my body as I pull into the next lane. 

My eyes flicker from the traffic to her, and my stomach begins to twist. The other day I was beating myself up over being an idiot around her, and now I got this girl in my car, humming to the Drake song that’s playing. Say something charming, quick.

“You always dress so fancy,” I say, leaning back with one hand on the wheel, the other on my lap. It almost comes out like an insult. Great.

“Is that bad?” Izara quickly replies, turning her head to me. From my peripheral vision I can see the glimmer in the corner of her eye, she’s joking. In my head I pat myself on the back for finally learning her cues.

Grinning, I shrug and lick my lower lip. “I dunno, I think you should be dressing in basketball shorts and sports bras like the rest of us.”

“You think I could pull that off?” Her tone is coy, teasing. Almost… flirty? No, I’m imagining.

“You know you could,” I murmur, mouth going dry at the thought of her in such little clothing before me.

She laughs, nose scrunching up as she does. “I’m not so sure. I don’t have abs like you.”

My palms grow clammy against the wheel at her words, the idea of Zari watching me close enough to notice my body in that way leaving me tongue tied.

“Uh, well, not everyone can I guess,” I mumble, my voice shakier than I’d like. I should’ve said something else - like how I think she looks gorgeous, how the softness of her stomach only made me want to kiss all over it on my way down, to take my time with her. Okay, maybe not that part.

The car falls silent, the motor humming constantly in the background, interrupted only by the Summer Walker and Drake song playing through the stereo. 

Staring out the window, Zari begins to softly sing along, barely audible but just enough for me to notice.

“Girls can't never say they need it, girls can't never say now, give it to me like you need it, baby, want you to hear me screaming, heavy breathing,I don't need a reason, baby.” 

The dirty lyrics spilling from her lips contrasting with her poise and elegance make my mind spin, a burn igniting somewhere deep in my abdomen.

“Didn’t take you for a Drake girl,” I smirk, turning the song up for her. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zari scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, you don’t seem like someone who listens to rap,” I admit.

“What do I seem like then?”

“Like you listen to classical music or,” I think for a while. “Well I dunno some classy shit. Whatever British people listen to.”

Zari laughs, shaking her head. “Would you believe me if I say British people are just like you?”

I join her laughter. She had a point.

“Anyway, my brother loves Drake. His biggest fan, I swear,” Izara adds, sliding the sunglasses from her forehead to her face as the sun rises in the horizon, colouring the sky with a pink hue.

“Nope, that’s me,” I answer competitively.

Izara turns to me, a wide smile spread across her face. “You’d get along. You’re kinda similar actually.”

“Oh yeah? What’s his name?”

“Kiran.” 

There’s a hint of longing in the girl’s voice, head turning to look out the window again.

“You miss him?” I ask carefully.

She nods. “A lot.”

“He watch hoops?” 

Zari laughs, her mood instantly lifting. “He does, he thinks you’re hot.”

I scrunch my face, shaking my head. “Yeah, Ion swing that way. Sorry.”

“That’s what I told him,” the girl chuckles.

I glance at her, still unsure about which way she swung. Usually it went two ways with the straight girls - either they assumed I was into them and made it very clear they didn't want me, avoiding my gaze, flinching when I touched them or they got overly flirty, getting some sort of power trip by assuming I wanted them. With Izara, I wasn’t sure. 

“You just need some, someone that's calm and patient, submission, domination,” we sing together, making the girl sitting next to me giggle as our voices blend together. Maybe she wasn’t straight.

“Arched back, deep stroke, white wine, Weed smoke, that's my best combination, You just need some dick with no complications,” I hum by myself now, Zari going quiet, too modest to match the lyrics. As my eyes flicker to her I realise I’m causing her to blush, the pink of her cheeks spreading all over her face. I think she’s flustered. Maybe not straight.

I push further, continuing to sing casually as my free hand rests on my shorts, tapping the rhythm, wondering if she was watching me beneath the dark sunglasses hiding her green emerald eyes. “How 'bout I just take my time? You call up my line, I fall up inside you, Girls need love, too, I know.”

Her chest is heaving, and her throat bobs as she swallows, fidgeting on her seat into a more comfortable position. She is flustered. Definitely not straight.

“You aight?” I ask, trying my best to bury the growing grin on my face. I got her squirming on her seat, me, just by singing. I mean I knew my singing was good but damn (or more likely it was the lyrics but whatever). 

Zari clears her throat, chuckling awkwardly. “It’s just so hot all the time,” she sighs, rubbing her chest and avoiding my gaze as we reach the office building.

“Yeah,” I agree, eyes locked on her side profile, parking the car by the front entrance.

Finally, the dark haired girl turns to me, lifting the sunglasses off her face. There she is, those green eyes that made me feel intimidated and comforted all at once.

“Thank you so much again love,” she smiles and I can feel myself melting away.

“Anytime Iz, forreal.” 

Our eyes lock just for a second longer than might be considered casual, until she lowers her gaze to my neck. Zari’s long, slender fingers reach over, dragging across my neck as she fiddles with my chain, fixing it with gentle hands. Her long nails scratch softly against my skin as she does so, sending jolts across my body, all the way to each finger and each toe. I nearly choke as she holds the cross between her fingertips admiring it for a moment, before her other hand pulls some of my hair caught underneath the chain free. I can hear my pulse in my ears.

“The lock was showing,” Zari hums pulling away. It takes everything in me not to pull her back in, so instead I squeeze the wheel underneath my hands till my knuckles go red.

“O-oh,” I mumble in a hushed tone from the way I was trying to keep my breathing under control. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the girl smiles as if oblivious to the effect she’s having on me. I wonder if she really is.

As she climbs out, her phone falls off her lap to the floor of my car. I quickly pick it up for her, glancing at the screen as I do.

Jasper 3 missed calls

“Oh oops, thank you,” Zari smiles, grabbing the phone from my hand, not seeing the way I was eyeing the screen. “Have a good meeting Paige.”

“You too,” I smile, following her with my gaze until she’s inside.

Jasper huh. Maybe she was straight after all. Rubbing my jaw, I pull back into the highway, squirming on my seat as my thighs press together. My mind is spinning, still feeling the tingles of Zari’s touch on my neck, her fingernails dragging against my skin. The goosebumps are travelling straight to my core.

“Shit,” I mumble to myself, feeling the way I was dripping into my boxers, hand on my thigh itching to travel into my shorts, to swirl in my folds at the thought of Izara touching me like that. Not now Paige, later.

Glancing at the clock I realise I’m already nearly late to my meeting. Fuck it, worth it. As long as I got that girl to work on time.

-

Jasper had called me five times. FIVE TIMES in 24 hours. I had been on edge since yesterday, the pain in my shoulders growing more tense. Frankly, I was surprised by the fact I still had any teeth left from all the teeth grinding I’d been doing. I needed to disconnect, turn my phone off and have a self-care day. So I’d found myself at the communal gym in the apartment building before work, 30 minutes of stairmaster and some lifting bound to get my mind off things.

“4, 5, 6, 7… 8…” I count to myself, doing back extensions as I hold a plate weight against my chest. Sweat dripping down my back, I climb off the machine and place the weight down, nothing in my mind but the burn in my upper back.

“Mornin’” I hear a familiar voice from behind me, hoarse with sleep still. My head snaps back and it’s exactly who I expected it to be. Paige, in grey basketball shorts and a navy blue Uconn tee, slightly too small, apparent from the way it fits tightly around her shoulders and arms. Her eyes are still red and puffy from sleep.

Suddenly I feel the need to check myself in the mirror, tightening my ponytail and fixing the pink lululemon set hoping the blonde doesn’t notice. I wish I’d worn a bit of makeup. Still, I feel relieved when I see her. I could use a friend right now.

“Oh good morning!” I smile, taking a sip of my water bottle. “Don’t you have a weight room at College Park?” 

Paige scoffs looking around offended. “Wow, I can leave if you want me to.”

I giggle like a schoolgirl, my hand subconsciously landing on her arm as I laugh. I feel it flex underneath my touch, surprisingly muscular. 

“No, no, I’m glad to see you. Just surprised,” I say, pulling back, watching a grin grow on the taller girl’s face.

“The AC’s still broke so,” the blonde explains, looking around the gym. “You doing upper body?”

“I am,” I hum, walking towards the weights, my eyes flickering to Paige’s reflection in the mirror. It was insane how she had clearly just rolled out of bed, no makeup, hair slicked back in a ponytail and still she looks great.

“Same, same,” she mumbles, watching closely as I stretch my arms and wrists to prepare. “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” I say smiling. “Shoulder press?”

“You got it,” Paige agrees, grabbing a bench and setting it up for us. “Ladies first.”

I laugh again, planting myself on the bench with a set of 15s. To my shock Paige grabs them from my hands, giving me a pair of 20s instead.

“Paigeuh!” I complain but she shakes her head.

“C’mon, I’mma be your personal trainer,” she grins, standing behind me and meeting my eyes in the mirror. Her hands land on my shoulders, rubbing gently, immediately easing the pain there. I nearly moan, forgetting my surroundings for a moment.

“Look at these shoulders,” she says, squeezing the muscles there. “You can do the 20s Iz. I’ll spot you.”

She sounds so sure, so confident that I have no other choice but to feel confident too, picking up the weights and getting into position.

“Gimme eight.”

Nodding, I begin to do one rep after another, a shake in my arms already visible on the fifth. I focus on trying to keep a straight face on the sixth, Paige notices my struggle and places her fingers underneath my elbows, sparks shooting up my arms.

“I gotchu, two more.”

Something about her touch, her belief in me powers me through it. After two more reps, the blonde grabs the weights from me.

“Holy shit,” I gasp, rubbing my forehead. Paige chuckles, looking at my reflection.

“Ion think I’ve ever heard you swear before,” she says, making me laugh.

“Well lucky you I guess we’re really friends now,” I reply, meeting her blue eyes in the mirror. She’s biting on her bottom lip, staring, hand resting on my shoulder.

“You’re tense as hell, yknow?” Paige laughs, feeling my shoulders. My skin burns underneath her touch and I know it’s because it’s been a while since I’ve had anyone that near. It feels good to be touched. Even by a friend.

I nod. “I know.”

Furrowing her brows, the blonde begins to massage my stiff shoulders, so gently I feel like a baby bird in her hands, the way her thumbs dig into my muscles ever so slightly. My eyes fluttering shut, I hum compliantly, feeling my muscles begin to relax under her touch.

“Is this okay?” Paige whispers, her voice merely audible.

“Mhm,” I murmur. “A little harder is okay too.”

I hear a heavy exhale from behind me when the blonde’s fingers press deeper, massaging against my upper back, moving upwards to the sides of my neck. Goosebumps travel all over me. I feel a familiar burn, a faint memory of a feeling from the past spreading over my upper thighs and lower abdomen, stirring within me.

“Like this?”

Her voice is gravelly, a soft mutter on her lips. I feel myself melting underneath her touch, a heat pooling between my legs from the skilled way she works my muscles. I could tell she was skilled with her hands, just from the sure, confident way in which she moves against me..

All of a sudden I hear the door go, and I know the blonde hears it too as her hands retract, both our gazes turning to the entrance where another neighbour walks in, greeting politely.

“Hello,” I smile, my voice coming out soft. My mind spins as I grab the weights again, ready for a second round. But part of me is distracted by the stirring in my stomach, still apparent, still distracting. I watch Paige settle behind me, her face even redder than mine.

“Ready?” She asks, our gazes locking. I lift the weights, preparing for the movement.

“Ready.”

-

“Give me two more please,” I encourage the blonde girl, her mouth shut tight in a narrow line, brows furrowed in concentration as she stands beside me, staring into the mirror, shaking her head.

“Ahh shit,” she breathes, hissing as her arms shake, not able to bring the next bicep curl further than halfway.

“C’mon, two more,” I demand, placing my fingertips underneath her wrists, fooling the blonde’s brain that I’m helping. It’s enough for Paige to finish two more reps, letting out a relieved groan as she places the weights down.

“You’re tryna kill me Iz,” she groans, rubbing her sweaty face with her hand, veins becoming more prominent from the strain.

“Nope! Just knew you could do better,” I smile, grabbing my smaller set of weights for my final rep. My body felt exhausted in the best way, all my worries completely forgotten. In the mirror I can see the baby hairs curling around my face, spilling out from my high pony, sweat dripping from my neck, down my chest, between my cleavage. Eyes flickering to Paige, I notice her gaze on my ass as she settles to stand behind me, but I don’t think much of it.

“Alright, let’s go,” Paige smiles, meeting my stare in the mirror.

Picking up the weights, I begin to do my bicep curls. One, two. On the third one I’m already struggling, making me huff and subconsciously swing my hips ever so slightly to help my hands curl all the way.

The blonde tuts behind me, her hands finding my waist with ease, holding tight. It surprises me enough that I nearly drop the weights.

“Watch your core Iz,” Paige murmurs, meeting my gaze in the mirror. Her front is hovering just an inch away from my back, radiating with heat and electricity as her hands drag around to the exposed skin of my upper abdomen. “Squeeze here,” Paige whispers, her touch moving downwards and sideways to the sides of my hips. “And here.”

Lips slightly parted, I nod, my chest positively heaving now. Focusing on flexing my core muscles, I keep doing reps with a newfound focus. Though the way my body tingles is distracting, making my head swirl.

“That’s it,” Paige coos, her arms snaking around to help me with the last few reps, hands supporting my wrists. For some reason, an involuntary trembling breath spills from my mouth as she inches closer, the curve of my ass pressing against her. I suppose I’m just not used to this sort of closeness with my friends yet.

“Aaaand eight, yes ma’am!” The blonde grins, grabbing the weights and setting them back for me, brushing closer to my back before walking off. The loss of contact brings me back from the swirling thoughts in my head, as I blink and take in my surroundings, and the blonde girl in front of me. I notice the way her biceps have grown from the strain, arms covered in veins and glistening with sweat. 

“That was so good,” I sigh, throwing my arm over my face as I try to catch my breath. Paige holds up her hand, and I high five it with a giggle. 

“Good?!” She calls out. “You a masochist or sum?”

I scoff, a little taken aback by the crude question. “Rude!” I laugh, red in the face and playfully shove the blonde off. She’s barely affected, my push not hard enough to shake her from her stand.

“You got work?” Paige asks, sipping on her water, jaw prominent as she throws her head back. The veins on her hand are still popping, wrapped around the bottle.

“Uhh, yes. But I do have to shower first.”

“You need a ride?”

I shake my head, she already drove me once. That has to be enough.

“Oh no thank you,” I smile, walking towards the exit, the blonde following at my heel and opening the door for me.

“You sure? I don’t mind,” Paige asks again, more insistent. Like she wants to. But I couldn’t let her.

“No, no, I promise.”

-

“So, how’s Dallas?” KK’s voice comes through my speaker. I’m sitting by my cubby at College Park Center, still half empty. Part of me refused to leave my stuff here, to decorate, to make it home. But I was slowly trying to change things around, forcing myself to place some sports bras and shorts on the top shelf. That would be a start.

“Uhh, it’s Dallas,” I murmur, brushing through my hair, still damp from my post practice shower. 

“You forgettin’ us already?” The girl on the phone teases, making me scoff as I tie my shoes back on. 

“Y’all wouldn’t let me.”

“You right girl,” KK replies. I pack my Nike bag, throwing on a black hoodie over my sports bra and shorts. Practice had run late and I’d spend my time in the shower, trying to revise plays, my arms killing me from the workout earlier.

“You try barbecue yet?” The girl asks. She had texted me ten minutes ago, claiming it was an emergency. Ever since I called she’d been asking me trivial questions about everything she could think of - clearly me and her had different definitions of emergency.

“Not yet, haven’t been out much actually,” I admit, grabbing the phone where it’s set on the shelf, KK’s face taking up the screen, watching me.

“Well I was gon ask if Dallas has hot girls but guess you haven’t seen em then.”

I laugh, throwing the bag over my shoulder. “Well, actually…” I start, a small grin growing across my face.

“Yo, I see that grin P Boogers!” KK gasps. “You haven’t told me about no girl.”

I put my hands up in defeat, mouth twisting into a tight smile. “Nah, it’s not worth mentioning. She ain’t even from here. She’s British.”

“Whatttt???? She hot?”

“She’s fine, way outta my league.”

The girl on the phone scoffs, her expression turning serious. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m forreal!” I laugh. “She’s classy. Bro she drinks wine.”

“Damn, so she’s grown. Didn’t you say sumn about being celibate?” KK asks, making me groan.

I rub my face, walking out of the dressing room into the confusing hallways of College Park Center. First left, then right, I tell myself, KK’s voice echoing around the narrow corridor.

“Nahhh don’t remind me. I was outta my mind after that Natty win,” I reply, opening door after another to get out of the building.

“So what’s her nameeee, send a pic,” the girl says, her voice coy.

“I think she’s straight,” I scoff, walking through another door.

KK cackles loudly. “Like that’s stopped you before.”

“Alright, bye now.”

“Wait wait, I miss you,” the younger girl pouts. God, if she knew how bad I missed her. Missed all of them.

“Miss you too KK, y’all gotta come visit soon.”

“Yea, love you.”

“Love you, bye.”

I hang up, the silence echoing around me tugging at my heartstrings. But before I let the sadness wash over me, I’m met with Izara standing in a corridor by the exit, tapping away at her phone.

“Oh, hey Paige,” she smiles widely when she spots me, wearing a long black skirt and a sleeveless white turtleneck, looking beautiful as ever. Of course, what else would you expect?

“Hey Iz,” I smile, walking over to her. “You heading out?”

She nods, showing me her phone. “About to Uber,” the girl replies. With a roll of my eyes I open the door, nodding my head toward the open air where the sun was beginning to set.

“No, Paige, I couldn’t,” she complains but I’m too stubborn to give up.

“Don’t make me hold this heavy ass door open more than I need to,” I complain, still feeling the burn in my biceps and shoulders from the earlier workout. “We both going home anyway.”

With a dramatic scoff, Izara admits defeat, walking past me. I follow her, watching as the orange light of the setting sun paints us both warm and golden.

“Yeah I thought so,” I hum confidently, mostly to myself.

Zari’s hand pushes my arm playfully. “I only said yes because you seemed so pitiful,” she claims, head held high as always. My heart grows warm when the girl comes to a halt before her door, so used to me opening them for her already. I do so, knowing I was pleasing her. Good. I could easily be her friend knowing I got to have these moments to please her. That’s all I needed.

We pull out of the parking lot, serenaded by the R&B songs playing in the car, too drained and hungry after the long day to talk. But it felt comfortable, I had missed this. Having someone to just be quiet with. 

The silence between us is soon interrupted, this time Zari’s stomach rumbling. Guess she was as hungry as I was.

“Shit, sorry,” she chuckles, covering her face with embarrassment. I laugh too, finding it endearing, the way she was always so confident and together but letting me see her flustered. “I didn’t have time to eat lunch, Linda had a surprise meeting with me.”

I glance at the girl. “Good news?”

She nods with a grin. “Yes, she liked the video I made. My first solo project. The one we filmed at your first practice?”

I smile too, the lightness of relief in her voice something I must not have heard before. “That’s awesome Iz, not that I’m surprised.”

From the corner of my eye, I watch as she turns her body to me. 

“You know, only my family calls me Iz. Well Izzie. And some childhood friends,” she starts. “And you now, I guess.”

“I-is that okay?” I ask, not even realising I’d come up with another nickname all on my own.

She thinks for a while, a coy smile spreading on her face. “Yes, it is. I like it.”

“Well Iz, you wanna pick up a lil something to eat? I’m starving.”

The girl looks at me clearly mulling it over in her head.

“Ion wanna mess up your plans, but you shouldn’t have to cook every day.”

She sighs, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay… And I’m payin.”

“Paigeuh!”

“C’mon, let’s celebrate your big win.”

-

“I can’t believe they do take-away ribs here,” Izara chuckles, holding both of our meals while I park the car, pulling up in a desolate parking lot. The sun had long set, turning the sky black and filling it with stars.

“They don’t do that in London?” I ask.

“I don’t know, I don’t really eat ribs,” the girl admits. Turning to her about to grab my food, my eyes skim her top, the way it hugs her breasts tight, the way the white fab- wait. White.

“Uh Iz?”

“Yeah?”

I clear my throat, frustrated that I hadn’t thought it through.

“Ribs are probably the messiest food ever, and you’re wearing white,” I murmur, making the girl glance down at herself.

“No no, don’t worry. I’m a very neat eater,” Izara chuckles lightheartedly but I shake my head.

“Nah, you don’t get it. It don’t matter, you’re gon make a mess.”

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I reach into the backseat and pull out a large black t-shirt from my bag, handing it to the girl.

“You want me to put this on?” Izara questions, holding it in her hand disbelievingly.

“Ion want your pretty shirt to get ruined,” I tell her, our eyes meeting. “It’s clean, I promise.”

Hesitantly, the girl pulls it over her head, careful not to mess up her hair and makeup. Seeing the way the shirt, my shirt, swallows her whole, the way it drapes over her body makes me swoon. And I know I’m staring but I can’t look away, or kill the smile spreading across my face from the flutters growing in my chest.

Izara looks down, letting out a small chuckle. “Alright, guess I’m ready to eat.”

“You look it,” I laugh, handing her the smaller portion of ribs, and the side of mashed potatoes.

“So… how do I do this?” She asks almost shyly, looking at the meat drenched in sauce.

“You just gotta go for it ma,” I encourage her, the nickname spilling without any intention or thought as I grab a rib and bite into it, the sauce already dripping down my chin, making the girl next to me laugh.

“You already made a mess!” She snorts, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggles.

I shrug, taking another bite, the savoury flavour soothing my hunger already. 

“C’monn, don’t be shy,” I cheer, mouth full of food. Finally, the girl takes a tiny nibble off the corner, careful not to mess up her face.

“Yo did I give you my shirt for nothing? Bite into it Iz.”

Rolling her eyes the dark haired girl finally opens her pretty mouth wider, taking a proper bite. I clap my hands, making even more of a mess on all my fingers. Izara dabs a napkin around her mouth gently, wiping the sauce off before speaking.

“That’s… Really good,” she admits. I nod knowingly, taking another bite, which makes the girl beside me laugh once again.

“Oh god, how’d you manage to get it on your nose Paige,” she giggles, shaking her head at me. “I didn’t know you were such a messy eater.”

“Oh you got no idea,” I grin, wiping my nose on a tissue. Izara, however, is too busy eating to pick up on my implied meaning. Soon, her face is covered in brown sauce too, as we take turns laughing at one another.

“This is my sensory hell,” she whines, eyeing her sticky hands. “I’m overwhelmed.”

“Hollup, hollup,” I snicker, grabbing a tissue with my clean hands and leaning over. Ever so carefully, I hold her chin, wiping as softly as I can - not because she feels vulnerable or weak, but because I’m afraid if I do it too harshly I might disrupt her and make her go away. I didn’t want her to.

Izzie bats her eyes, looking everywhere but my gaze until I’m done. A soft blush radiates her cheeks until I finally pull away, fingertips tingling from the contact. Clearing her throat, the girl interrupts the moment.

“How’s your mac n cheese?” She asks, pointing to the side in my takeaway box.

“So good,” I say. “You wanna try?”

She hesitates. “Is that okay?”

Rolling my eyes I grab a forkful of the macaroni oozing with cheese, feeding it to the girl without thinking much more about the gesture. Only when our eyes lock as her mouth spreads open for me, my heart begins to pound in my chest. Her plump, wide lips wrapping around the fork. That familiar heat begins to pool between my legs again. Shit. I quickly pull away, looking down, listening to the satisfied hum from the girls mouth.

“Oh wow. That’s the best mac n cheese I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?” I ask with a grin, watching her lit up face as she nods.

“Yes.”

“Let’s switch then,” I say confidently, taking her mashed potatoes and handing the dark haired girl my side instead.

“No, Paige don’t be silly,” she resists, but I remain stubborn.

“Already done.”

Izara smiles gratefully, taking another bite of the macaroni and humming with joy as she eats it. I didn’t like mashed potatoes much, but it was all worth it to see her face gleaming like this.

The girl goes quiet for a while, watching the cars outside driving by before she speaks.

“Thank you Paige,” she softly says. “I’ve had such a bad couple of days, you made me forget all about it.”

My heart aches, I wanna wrap her up in my arms and pull her in - but it seems a little too much even for me so I remain still, eyes locked on her leaning on the passenger seat in my t-shirt.

“Jasper?” I ask, maybe reaching but too curious not to say anything.

Her brows are furrowed, her catlike eyes flickering to me.

“I didn’t mean to look but saw the missed calls yesterday, sorry,” I admit. Taking it in, Izzie looks out the window again, letting out a deep sigh.

“Yeah, Jasper.”

“Ex-boyfriend?” I continue to question.

The girl fiddles with her rings. “Something like that.”

I kiss my teeth, turning to look out the window too.

“Figures, seen my friends get fucked over men like that all the time.”

She scoffs, licking her lips. “How’d you know it was him who did the fucking over?”

“You don’t seem like the type,” I say gently, eyes flickering to her. “You don’t move to Dallas, Texas over anything small.”

“Or maybe I’m running away,” she suggests, making me shake my head.

“I dunno about that Miss Schedule,” I chuckle carefully. “Besides, men have a way of doing that.”

Her brows furrow and she meets my gaze. “Women do too, you know.”

Bursting into a single laugh, I feel amused at her words. Like she’d know anything about it.

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve dated women.”

Oh.

Holdup.

So you’re telling me, the girl next to me isn’t straight? That my initial suspicions weren’t just hopeless wishes of an extremely horny person. No, she’s bi. Of course she’s bi, there’s no way a straight woman could dress like she does, have the charisma she does.

Suddenly my mind is swirling around the memories of each glance, each time our hands grazed one another, each praise that spilled from Izzie’s lips, each time my eyes flickered to her to only find that she’s already watching. Suddenly it all means more. Oh fuck, what am I doing.

“Youuu… okay there?” Izara asks, her tone uneasy.

I finally snap out of it. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I had no idea, I just assum-”

“Don’t worry, people usually think I’m straight,” she laughs it off easily, but I can tell it’s bothering her a little. My reaction.

“My bad, I shouldn’t have assumed,” I say sheepishly.

“It’s not your fault, truthfully, I don’t even know if I still am or if it was just a phase.”

Oh. 

Surely she would’ve felt it too, the electricity between us. The way it felt the moment our eyes met, when we touched. Surely that would be plenty of confirmation for her sexuality. Unless it was just me feeling it. Fuck, who cares. I’m celibate, I’m happy, I’m going to be Rookie of The Year and I’m not gonna worry about girls. Even ones as perfect as Izara.

“You take an Uber to work every day?” I ask to change the topic.

“I’ve got to. I don’t have a license here. Or a car,” Izzie answers, making me scoff.

“I can drive you, easy,” I suggest.

The dark haired girl shakes her head, meeting my eyes. Challenging me.

“Absolutely not. That’s final.”

“Izzie, c’mon. We go to the same place most days anyway. Lemme drive you,” I insist but she won’t budge, her eyes as hard as her stance on the topic. That is until I find the magic word.

“Please,” I plead, softening my tone.

Her eyes soften, and with a final sigh I know I’ve got her.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter@thaatdigitaldiary@sierrale8ne@lupinqs@lovegalor333@d3arapril@avvwritesstufff@rosemariiaa@bueckers22@taylynbueckers44@unadulteratedcyclepaper@rizzlerbuckets@bueckersfive@wosolipa@bridgetloveswomen@paiges-1vur@slut4uconnwbb@xxloveralways14@bueckersbitch@janaelalfysblunt@omg-imtumbling@angryflowerwitch@ohbueckers

[eternalsa2z]

Dear Diary

DAY 1

I don't know why I'm doing this. I found this hot pink journal in my room. The logo is a little silly but it'd be a shame to waste all the paper. So I guess I'll write down what I'm thinking.

DAY 3

Honestly this has been nicer than I expected. It feels good to get your thoughts down on paper. Then you don't have to think so hard about your troubles.

DAY 7

I noticed how negative I've been when journaling. So I decided to be more positive and try some new things. Dress nicer. Take care of my appearance more.

DAY 14

I went to the salon today. It was a strange impulse after writing down things I wanted to improve. Just a little trim...maybe some highlights. Something simple.

DAY 15

I went full blonde today. Light blonde. I should feel self-conscious but it feels...sooooo good!

DAY 28

Another salon day! Got a touch up with a cute pigtail hairstyle...and a bit more. The girls convince me try some filler and more than a 'lil makeup. It felt like a lot but they were sooooo excited. So I couldn't help being excited too!

DAY 40

Like, people are looking at me funny. Is it my clothing? They, like, don't fit as much any more. My boobies...I mean breasts...seem bigger. Butt seems rounder. Oh well! Time for a shopping spreeeeee!

DAY 47

Um, like, sorry for not writing more. I've been, like, sooooo forgetful of late. I do my makeup, squeeze on a cute outfit, then I totes forget anything else! Is that bad? 'Course not! It feels too good to be, like, empty headed

DAY 55

Cherry is having truble trouble thinking. Cherry can't, like, 'member lyfe life before writing in diary. Was Cherry, always blonde, busty, and unsofisycated unintellygant dumb? It's like Cherry's thot thoughts all gone once she writes. But at least, like, she's hawt! :)

DAY 69

Cherry iz, like, luving lyfe! Peepole call me, lyke, a dumbo bimbo...but Cherry soooo doesn't care! Cherry iz happy. Cherry iz cute. Cherry iz, like, no thinky any more since she start wryting in diary.

[octoberautumnbox]

Love in the Night Train

IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Categories/warnings: fluff, mentions of blood, unedited as all hell

a/n: happy yuri day!! :DDDD

~~~

You stir awake gracelessly; your eyes open to an innocent white ceiling that should blind you but doesn’t. You scarcely feel your body, let alone are able to move it beyond flimsy twitches in your fingers and toes. Your neck is sore in all the appropriate spots, as if moving your head too far in one direction will snap it right off. On top of everything, a weight on your chest hinders your ability to breathe in. No way you’re dead at least, but as the memories start coming back, you begin to gather that you may as well be. 

Your back stings and prickles with every move you make, and it doesn’t take two guesses why. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, but that doesn’t mean you’re necessarily in a bind; you suppose that at this point you’ve gotten used to getting used to it. Instead of attending to everything you can as quick as possible, calm yourself back down, remind yourself that danger is far away from here, and that taking things slow sometimes is not a sin. 

The weight shifts from your chest and off to the side, giving you a slight reprieve from the pressure. It hits the mattress with a thud and a slight bounce, but ultimately you know everything is alright. Take in the air a bit more this time, and try to move again.

“Ugh, morning. You awake yet?” Yuri clears the messy hair away from her face and rubs her eyes. She sighs from the bottom of her lungs, making sure to get everything from last night out of her system. 

“Barely. I can’t fucking move, babe,” you reply with as much of a chuckle as you can manage, though it isn’t much. She giggles back and places her head on your chest again, this time in a more favorable spot. “You first?” you ask carefully, trying not to rush.

“Mmm, sure. Are you okay though?” She breathes in time with you, all the while tracing little circles on your chest. “I think you’re worse off than I am.”

The moment you try to reach for the salonpas, the stinging pain roars all over your back again. It sends you barreling back onto the mattress, but the split second is enough for Yuri to make out the damage. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” she pleads, “never mind. You first.”

Her movements are clunky and careless, dead giveaway to sore pairs of arms and legs. Despite this she soldiers on, and successfully reaches for the antiseptic on her side's end table. She prods at you gently to flip over, and it reveals two things: a back that looks like you kept a raccoon in your knapsack, and bedsheets right under where you were lying, formerly plain white.

She assesses the damage, and once the initial shock leaves her features it's replaced by guilt and what you could only call a mild horror. “It's that bad, huh?” you joke before planting your face onto the pillow.

“I'm sorry, babe, I got too caught up in it last night…” She spreads the antiseptic over her palm and counts, three, two, one, then the pain evolves from stinging to searing. You grimace into the pillow, sucking in what little air you could through your teeth, as Yuri mumbles tiny apologies while applying more of the medicine all over your back. 

“Okay, okay, done. I'm sorry,” she says with finality, and prods you to lie right side up again. You find on her lips a small pout, and it's the most adorable thing; you're reminded how lucky you are to land a girl that cares this much for you. 

“It's okay, as if I'd be mad about that,” and after sighing you finally make to get up. “Your turn.”

It's easier now, the pain once again evolving from searing to a polite coolness. The salonpas is miles closer within reach, and you tell Yuri, “Face down, love.”

She complies slowly, her joints and muscles still practically creaking with overuse. You peel a strip off the sheet and place it right where her shoulder meets her neck, then again for the other side. Pat them down to secure the adhesive, then move on to the next. 

Her lower back, under her shoulder blades, the backs of her thighs–each under her request based on where she aches most. As you place each strip, you rediscover every single mark you left on her, most notably the ones on her neck and chest, which are only starting to go from red to a deep purple. It brings back fond memories, and as you hover over the ones nearby, she smiles and runs her fingers over them too.

“Help me hide these?”

“I think they suit you rather well,” you tease, and after another bout of shy giggles from her she lifts herself off the bed slowly. She clambers to a sitting position in front of you and nearly crashes into your embrace, and the sensation brings you both to reminisce about last night: you kiss the same spots where her little circular bruises sit, and she runs her fingers over each tiny scratch mark she left on your back. Her eyes wander over her handiwork, a tiny sense of pride rising from her chest, when she finds one particularly nasty ring of sore red skin on your neck. 

“That one… looks bad,” she says, “I should maybe do something about that one.”  She clambers some more onto her feet and scurries off to the bathroom before coming back clutching the med kit. “Hold still,” she commands, and she pulls out a dropper of antiseptic for what you can only surmise is a bite mark, and for how Yuri even more carefully brings the spout near your neck, you gather it looks much worse than it feels. 

“I'm okay, babe, I'm–” before an inferno of stinging pain spreads outward from the spot the medicine dropped. Bolts of lightning travel all along your nerves, and it takes nearly a minute before it calms down like the rest of your wounds. Groans escape you the entire time, and Yuri's concern doesn't fade one bit. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, hopeful that she's doing more good to make up for the apparent harm. She dabs a square piece of gauze onto one of the deeper marks her teeth left and, once she's sure it's dry, covers everything with a fresh square to stick in place. She masterfully applies each strip of tape, securing it with just the right amount, before she's finally satisfied with her treatment. “All better, Oppa?”

“Yes, thank you, Yuri. How come I didn't notice that one?” A wave of relief washes over her, then moves on to you–her feeling better about things is highly contagious. 

Both of your attentions now land on the ruined bedsheet, and you start to notice the sheer amount of tiny bits of red scattered on your side. Yuri shoots you a look: “Help me change this?” and of course you oblige, partly because you feel guilty for having so much blood, but mostly because she's the kind of girl that puts magic into the mundane, as if she's the one that makes life worth living. 

You less-than-gracefully heave yourself off the bed before pulling away the covers themselves. A quick trip to the closet and Yuri hands you two corners of a fresh new fitted sheet, this time with a more joyful beige color and a fluffier texture like wool. You pull the garters over the soft edges of her mattress, and once all the pillows and covers are thrown back in place, you crash back onto the bed with her, sighing with exertion for the unbelievably menial task. 

“So,” you finally inquire after minutes of plain nothingness in her presence, “breakfast?”

“I don't wanna cook,” she whines, and yanks a pillow over her face. It's strange how cute she can be even without trying, more so when she does, and it's been lost to you a long time ago how to tell the difference. Wrap an arm around her waist, bring her close, find the warmth again that is Jo Yuri: stable yet novel and wild yet predictable. 

“Me neither. Let's just get delivery.”

“What do we order?”

“What do you want?”

She stares into your eyes, confessing a million things with each passing moment: I love you, I don't want to get up, stay with me forever, I want to eat in bed, I'm not that hungry, my back hurts, you're my everything. Her chest rises and falls as she breathes, her pupils running over each of your features like memorizing every single thing about you. 

She places a hand on your cheek, making sure you're real. The aches in her body are more proof than any pinch will ever be that she's awake, but that doesn't mean she's not in a dream. Yuri asks, “What are you thinking of?” in the quietest voice you've ever heard her make, and it melts the ice in your heart that you didn't even know was there. 

“You. Always you.”

~~~

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about .. eh not much. But the thought of Logan trying to become comfortable in the X mansion again after his x men died keeps coming into my brain, some of the X men subconsciously doing things that THEIR Logan liked and honestly Worst Wolvie feeling so jealous of the love that the X men had for Logan, but not him.

Kurt crawling into bed with him and automatically trying to cuddle him the same way he lays with most of the other x men but hasn't gotten to do with Logan in a long time.

"The fuck are you doing?"

"Oh... uhm... cuddling? Iz kinda my thing..i.. Im the cuddly elf??"

"What?"

"I-ill go if you-" but Logan just grunts and locks his arm around him, finally accepting the comfort of just being held.

So kurt, of course, lays all over him, his tail wagging or wrapping around his leg. I HC that worst wolvie didn't really have a nightcrawler so it's odd for him. I mean.. what grown ass man would want to cuddle? ... well... He did. But he'd never say that. Kurt tells him of the cuddle piles they used to do on top of Logan, and just lay on him for hours. How flustered and harmlessly upset he got. "Oh ja, He told us to get off at least 5 times before he gave up. Vas such fun."

It's now that this Logan decides hes never going to tell them to get off. Never going to push them off of him and storm off... he already did that before.. not again. This is his second chance.

So now, here they are, just.. laying here.. Logan's not even talking. He's learning so much about Kurt just from the way he smells, his heart rate changes, and running his hand down his back. He had tried to run it over his tail like one might a cat, but he only jumped up, and his fur was all fluffy. Did he scare him? Maybe he didn't like his tail touched..

One whiff says the opposite as he tucks it between legs.

"Sorry I... I didn't have a Nightcrawler so.. I swear I didn't know."

"Aah.. that makes sense.. Vell dont do it again mister! He's watching!" And plops back down, nuzzling into his shoulder.

"Who's watching!?"

"You know. Father?"

"....I killed my dad.."

"...." Blinking a bit, Kurt pats his chest with a sigh "Yeah.... our Logan did that too. But I meant God."

"Oh.... Kurt, I dont think a thousand baptisms could make him forgive me..."

The blue man gives him a look of pity and a small smile of remembrance. "Heh... That's funny... he said the exact same thing."

The silence that came after made him wish he would just say something. But he had nothing to say. Just how similar was this world's Logan to him..?

"Who said what? Hey peanut, Whatcha doing?"

The guilt that rushes over him makes Logan try to sit up, gently pushing Kurt off of him, but Wade puts his hand up. "Nah, it's alright."

"Y-you dont mind?"

"Mh-mh. You look comfy, Wolvie... It's a nice look on you. Also Jubilee and Kitty are coming. They told me not to tell you but I didnt wanna watch you accidently skewer some kids."

Yeah. Kids. As if they weren't already in their mid 20s, Wade. Though I guess you're almost 50 so everyone younger then you is a kid.

"Aye! I heard that!"

"... Eh.. Heard what, mien freund?"

"He does that. Don't worry about it." Logan mutters to him, his head snapping towards the door as the two girls burst in, Giggling and jumped in the cuddle pile too.

"Youch! Watch the fur!!"

Logan only grunts and groans from the weight and the fact he was being ambushed. "You girls are a lot heavier from the last time I saw ya" he states, because the last time he seen them, they were just kids. Kids that.. he killed.

"I can't believe you didn't invite us to the function, Logan!"

"Yeah, totally not cool."

Bringing them close, he held their heads in his inner elbows, nuzzling them both with a bit of a sniffle.

Watching them all, Wade smiles, seeing the girls hug back and not tell him off for his tight grip.

"Ewww! Are you sniffing me!?" Katherine complains, trying to push him away. The glossiness in his eyes slip onto his cheek as he playfully growls at her, his grip now a bit too tight for Wade's own comfort.

He observes the way Logan gently nibbles their cheeks, making Kitty gag and push his face away. "Ew! Whens the last time you brushed your teeth!?" She teases.

"Eeehh!!! Abort mission!! Call for back up!" Jubes yells, attempting to get out of the hold, a bit of her cheek a little red from the fang nipping.

Wade could tell that he was getting too excited. Those claws would pop any second. "Logan-" he starts, knowing these two were probably not the best for him to rough house with. Laura would have been a much more suitable play partner but she was far too truamatized to be held down like this without stabbing someone..

"I got you girls!" Kurt says, poofing away, making Logan jump and instinctively let go from the flash sound and visual. He blinks, sitting up and looking for him. "How did he.."

"Magic." Wade smirks, relieved that he let go. Logan would never forgive himself if he accidently killed them twice.

Seeing what he did to her, Logan frowns, running the back of his finger over her cheek. "...Im sorry.."

"It's alright. Didn't even hurt. Besides, You said we were smaller right? Is that why you were playing with us?" Now that he got a good look at them, it felt inappropriate to nuzzle and bite at their noses anymore... these weren't the little pups he used to give noogies and piggy back rides...

Kitty was married now. The ring on her finger suggested it. She wasn't that bratty sassy teen reading boy magazines. And Jubilee was... well.. she was kinda the same. Just bigger. More mature looking.. he bet she looked like her mother.

"Sorry.." he says again, deciding to keep his hands to himself, putting them in his lap.

"For what?"

"You haven't played with us in AGGESS!" Kathrine whined.

"I.. I shouldn't treat you like that.. you're grown now. I.. you're not.. my kids.. anymore."

"Oh bullshit. Rouges almost 30 and I bet she'll wanna rough house with you too!"

He shakes his head, those glossy eyes coming back. Wade couldn't say a thing but the things in his head were a mile a minute. He wanted to say so many things, but this was his moment. Logan's time. Being reunited with his original X-kits.

"No.. i-its alright.. I dont.."

"Nah we'll go get her."

"Oh and Ro too!"

"R-ro..?" He looked almost confused but before he could ask they were already gone.

He thinks now he should speak. "...Havin fun?"

Logan is quick to wipe his face. "Yes... thank you."

"For what?"

"For... giving me a second chance."

He smiles, leaning against the window. "I didn't give you that Logan. You did."

"But you brought me here."

"And you stayed with me. Which allowed me to bring you here. Your choice. Not mine."

"Oh come on you cant believe-"

"ELF ATTACK!" Appearing in the air, Kurt dropped down from the ceiling, swords in hand. Gasping Logans claws finally shown themselves, blocking the attack.

"Jesus Kurt! Are you trying to die!?" He shouts, hairs raised and on edge.

"It would be an honor to die at your hands, mien freund! The professor would have told us to go outside by now, but he's not here anymore. So we can fight in the house as much as we-"

"No fighting in the house!!" Scott calls from the hall.

Wade laughs. "Spoke too soon. Daddys home."

"He is not-" Logan blushes deeply, Grunting and lightly tosses Kurt off of him. "Shut the fuck up, Wade..."

Leaving the room, he grunts loudly, waving his hand at Scott. "We're going.. dont get your panties in a bunch..."

Kurt rolls his eyes, glancing at Wade. "And it begins.."

Sighing heavily, Wade follows them out, his hands intertwined on the back of his head. "I bet I could be Daddy."

"At least get married first before saying such crude things..." Kurt mumbles, tail holding a swird as they went down the hall.

[sosa2imagines]

For dad Bucky, how about little Natalia scared him by announcing she has a boyfriend but the real meaning of sentence is that she made a new friend. And in the end reader clears the misunderstanding.

Thank you so much for this ask, I had lots of fun writing it.

Warning- Fluff, protective dad Bucky.

Bucky had always considered himself to be a simple man. Back in the 30s and 40s, people spoke in proper, full sentences, and communication was a straightforward affair. But now, in the world of today's generation, things seemed to be much more complex. The way people spoke, the slang they used, and even the way they expressed themselves had changed so much.

Bucky was sitting in the living room, sipping his coffee and going through some paperwork when Natalia, his six-year-old bundle of energy and mischief, bounded into the room, a wide grin on her face. She clambered onto the couch next to him and poked him in the arm, trying to get his attention.

Bucky set down his coffee and turned to look at his daughter. “What is it, kiddo?” he asked, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Guess what, Pa?” Natalia exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I have a boyfriend!”

Bucky's heart skipped a beat. He knew what those words meant, and the thought of his daughter having a boyfriend at six years old was not something he was ready to deal with. A storm of emotions roiled inside him, from shock to panic and everything in between.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky tried to keep his voice neutral. “Natalia, sweetheart,” he began, “you can't have a boyfriend at your age. You're only six.”

Natalia's face fell a little, confusion replacing the excitement she had felt just a moment before. “But why not?” she asked, her bottom lip puckering into a pout.

Bucky had to tread carefully here. He didn't want to upset his daughter, but he also didn't want her to think that having a boyfriend at such a young age was acceptable. “Well, sweetheart,” he said gently, “having a boyfriend is something that happens when you're a bit older. You need to focus on being a kid and having fun, not worrying about boys just yet.”

“But everyone in my class has boyfriends and girlfriends!” Natalia protested, her little brow furrowing in confusion.

Bucky's heart dropped even further. The thought of all those kids in her class having relationships at such a young age was even more distressing. He took another deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“Natalia,” he said, trying to keep his voice level, “even if that's true, it doesn't mean you have to have one too. You're still too young for that kind of thing. And I don't want you thinking that it's normal or okay to have a boyfriend at your age. Do you understand?”

“But my teacher is okay with it,” Natalia protested, her voice taking on a hint of defiance. “She even told us to have boyfriends and girlfriends. She said it's important to.”So-cial-ize!”

Bucky's jaw dropped open in shock. What kind of teacher was telling kids in kindergarten to have boyfriends and girlfriends? He struggled to hide his disbelief and anger.

“Natalia,” he said slowly, trying to keep his voice steady, “your teacher told you to have a boyfriend?”

“Yeah, she said it's important.” Natalia replied, completely oblivious to the storm she had unleashed in her father.

Bucky rubbed his forehead, trying to process what he was hearing. This was insane. They were six, for god's sake.

Bucky felt a headache beginning to form behind his eyes. This was shaping up to be a very long day.

He knew he had to set a firm but gentle boundary with Natalia, but the fact that her teacher was apparently not only okay with kids in kindergarten having boyfriends and girlfriends, but actually encouraging it, was making things more complicated.

As you walked through the front door and into the living room, you were expecting the familiar sounds of giggles and fun chaos that usually accompanied Natalia and Bucky together. Instead, you were greeted by an unexpected sight.

The two of them were sitting across from each other, arms crossed over their chests and identical scowls on their faces.

It seemed like a battle of wills was taking place, and neither one of them was backing down.

You stood frozen in the doorway for a moment, taking in the scene before you. Both Natalia and Bucky were still glaring at each other, their expressions identical. With a resigned sigh, you gave them a small nod and headed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

As you stood in the kitchen, sipping your water, you mentally prepared yourself for the coming conversation. You knew there was going to be a lot to discuss.

You walked back into the living room, taking a seat on the couch. Natalia and Bucky got up and came to sit next to you. Natalia being small, she sometimes needed help getting up onto the couch.

“Pa, help please…” she said innocently, and in an instant, Bucky was there to help her, lifting her up onto the couch next to you. At that moment, it was hard to believe they had been glaring at each other just moments ago, it seemed like they had forgotten their argument entirely.

“Thank you, pa.”

“You are welcome, princess.”

As soon as Natalia had settled in beside you, both of them seemed to remember their argument again. The air in the room became tense once more, and their angry expressions returned.

Natalia and Bucky were both still sitting on either side of you, their arms crossed and their gazes fixed on each other. It was as if the short moment of peace had never even happened.

As you took a deep breath, ready to ask what was wrong, both Bucky and Natalia spoke at the same time.

“Our daughter has a boyfriend!”

“Pa says I can't have a boyfriend!”

You couldn't help but do a double take as you heard their simultaneous declarations. Their words had been so similar yet contradictory. It was as if they had rehearsed it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you said, holding up your hands in an attempt to stop them from talking over each other. “One thing at a time, please. Bucky, you go first.”

Bucky started to explain, his voice filled with frustration and disbelief.

“Our daughter has a boyfriend, doll,” he began. “And not only that, but everyone in her class has a boyfriend or girlfriend, can you believe it? And the worst part is, their teacher actually suggested it!”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

You furrowed your brow, trying to wrap your mind around the situation. It seemed so absurd that kids in kindergarten would be having relationships encouraged by their teacher.

“What do you mean the teacher suggested it?” you asked, looking at Bucky for answers.

As Bucky was about to respond, Natalia interrupted and climbed onto your lap. “Excuse me,” she piped up, “it's my turn to speak now!”

You couldn't help but chuckle a little at her cheeky attitude, but you were still concerned about the situation.

You patted her head gently and smiled down at her. “Okay, sweetheart,” you said. “You can speak now. Go ahead.”

Natalia grinned and sat up straighter on your lap, clearly happy to have your full attention.

“Everyone in my class has a boyfriend or girlfriend,” she began, much like her father had. “And Teacher said it's important to have one! She said it helps us be more so-ci-able!”

You furrowed your brow again, focusing on the word “sociable” that Natalia had repeated.

“What do you mean by sociable, princess?” you asked her gently, trying to understand what their teacher had told them.

Natalia seemed to think for a moment, trying to find the best way to explain. “Well,” she said, “Teacher said having a boyfriend or girlfriend means we get to play and talk and spend more time together. She said it helps us be friendlier and have more fun with our friends.”

Bucky interjected, panic evident in his voice. “See?” he exclaimed.

Natalia shot a glare at him, her little face scrunched up in irritation. “Do not in-ter-rupt!” she repeated, pronouncing each syllable separately with a hint of defiance.

You couldn't help but bite back a smile at her little display of sass.

It was clear from the interaction that Bucky and Natalia were both feeling strongly about this situation. Bucky was concerned and worried about Natalia having a boyfriend at such a young age, while Natalia was determined to prove that it was perfectly normal and acceptable.

You turned your attention back to Natalia, curious about this supposed boyfriend of hers. “Sweetheart,” you said, “can you tell me a bit more about this boyfriend of yours? What's his name?”

Natalia's face lit up as you asked her about her boyfriend. “His name is Tommy,” she said, her eyes shining with excitement. “He sits next to me in class, and he shares his snack with me every day!”

As Natalia described the qualities of her “boyfriend,” you began to connect the dots in your mind. Everything she was saying pointed to a simple friendship rather than anything more serious.

With an amused smile, you asked, “Is he your friend, sweetheart? Like a friend who happens to be a boy?”

Natalia's eyes widened slightly as she seemed to consider your question. “Well,” she said thoughtfully, We are friends, and he is a boy. So he is my friend who is a boy. Boyfriend!”

You couldn't help but laugh softly as you realized the situation was just a misunderstanding. You noticed Bucky looking at you, his face a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Oh, Bucky,” you said, grinning at him. “It's not as serious as it seemed. Turns out, Natalia's 'boyfriend' is just her friend who happens to be a boy.”

Bucky's expression didn't soften right away. He frowned, still clearly concerned. “But the teacher still told them to have boyfriends and girlfriends!” he protested. “Doesn't that worry you at all?”

You put a reassuring hand on Bucky's arm, trying to ease his worries.

“Calm down, Bubba,” you said gently. “Natalia's teacher wasn't telling the kids to have romantic relationships. It's just a misunderstanding in the way Natalia explained it. I think what the teacher meant was for the kids to socialize and make friends with each other, including boys and girls.”

Bucky's expression softened slightly upon hearing your explanation. He seemed to relax a bit, the tension in his shoulders releasing.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “That makes more sense. But why use the word 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend'? That's what threw me off.”

You chuckled softly, amused at the confusion caused by Natalia's innocent misinterpretation.

“Bucky,” you said, “I think Natalia is using the terms 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' because in her mind, they simply mean a friend. She's not aware of the romantic context adults associate with those terms. She's thinking 'I have a friend who is a girl, so she is my girl-friend.' or 'I have a friend who's a boy, so he is my boy-friend.' Does that make sense?”

Bucky nodded slowly, seeming to finally understand the situation. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh as the tension faded from his face.

“Yeah, I get it now,” he admitted. “I guess I misunderstood the situation, too. I still think the teacher should've been clearer with her choice of words, though.”

You gave a gentle smile and teased a bit, trying to lighten the mood.

“Or,” you said, “I think our little miss Natalia here needs to work on her storytelling skills a bit better. Dropping the 'I have a boyfriend' bombshell without giving you context was not the best approach.”

Natalia pouted again at your gentle chiding, her lips pursing into a small frown. “I was getting to that part,” she mumbled, crossing her arms. “I just wanted to start with the exciting part first.”

You chuckled at her defensive nature, finding her behavior endearing. “Fair enough, sweetheart,” you said, ruffling her hair affectionately. “But next time, try to give a bit more context before dropping news like that. Your Pa won't be able to handle it.”

Bucky feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart theatrically.

“Hey, I can handle news like that,” he protested, a hint of humor in his voice. “I just need a little warning beforehand, that's all.”

Natalia giggled at her father's exaggerated reaction, her earlier pout replaced by a cheeky grin.

“Don't worry, Pa,” she said, poking him in the side. “I'll give you a warning next time before I reveal any more 'bomb-shells.'”

Natalia, intrigued by the new word, looked up at you with wide eyes and asked, “What's a bomb-shell?”

Bucky chuckled at her question, finding her curiosity adorable. “It's a figure of speech, sweetheart,” he explained. “It means saying something surprising or dramatic, like saying you have a boyfriend.”

Natalia's eyes widened further as she took in the explanation. “Ohhh,” she said, nodding understandingly. “So it's like when I say, 'You'll never guess what I found in my lunch box today!' and it's a surprise?”

You chuckled at her analogy, impressed by her ability to connect concepts. “Exactly, sweetheart,” you said, patting her head. “It's like that. A bombshell is just a big surprise.”

As Natalia got down from your lap and headed over to her toys, she called back over her shoulder, her voice filled with excitement.

“Oh, and Pa, I can't wait to have a playdate with Tommy!”

Bucky's eyes widened at Natalia's mention of a 'playdate' with Tommy, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

With a resigned sigh, you muttered under your breath, “Here we go again...” knowing that Bucky was likely to misinterpret the innocent term 'playdate' and start overthinking again.

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[storiesforallfandoms]

one of the guys ~ jimmy smith jr;8 mile

word count: 3481

request?: no

description: she’s always been viewed as just “one of the guys” despite having feelings for one of her friends, and now it’s looking likely that she’s going to lose him to the wannabe model

pairing: jimmy smith jr. x female!reader

warnings: swearing, pining

masterlist (one, two, three)

I had known Jimmy and Future since we were a bunch of snot nosed kids causing trouble on the playground in elementary school. Cheddar Bob was next, having followed us around like a lost puppy until we finally adopted him. Iz and Sol joined our little group in high school, and then we were complete.

For as long as I had known the guys, they considered me to be...well, one of the guys. Even after I went through puberty and actually started looking like a girl, I was still just one of the guys. It didn’t bother me for the most part. When you’re a kid, it doesn’t really matter if you’re a boy or a girl. We all played the same, caused trouble the same. But when we hit puberty, I found myself not liking being considered “one of the guys” anymore.

Especially when I realized I had feelings for Jimmy.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved being a part of the friend group and I couldn’t ask for a better set of friends. What I definitely could ask for, though, was for those friends to recognize I was a woman and treat me as such. Namely, I wished Jimmy would realize that.

One Friday evening, just like every Friday evening, I had just pulled into my driveway and was walking up to my front door when I heard another car pulling up behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Future.

“Get your ass changed, we’re going out!” he called.

“Future, I just got home,” I said.

“So?”

“So maybe I don’t want to go out with you chuckle fucks after I just worked an eight hour shift.”

“We both know that’s not the truth.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the smile on my face. He was right, I did want to go out. We went out every Friday night. It was a group tradition at this point. If I was seriously turning it down, there’d have to be something wrong with me.

“Give me 10 minutes,” I told Future before slipping into my house to change.

I was in and out in less time than I told him. I just changed out of my work clothes and into jeans and a t-shirt, and was ready to go again. I got into the passenger seat of Future’s car and he didn’t even wait for me to buckle myself in before he was backing out of my driveway and driving off to get the others.

“I fear for my life every time I get in the car with you,” I joked as I managed to buckle my seatbelt.

“Well, lucky for you, Jimmy agreed to drive tonight. His car can hold more people anyways.”

“Who else is going with us?”

“Just the usual.”

I looked over at Future in confusion. His tone definitely made me think there was someone else coming along for the night, but it seemed he wasn’t going to tell me. I couldn’t figure out who could possibly be joining us that Future wouldn’t want to tell me about beforehand.

We pulled into the trailer park and parked next to Jimmy’s car. Jimmy was exiting his trailer before we were even out of the car, as usual. Jimmy was usually waiting for us to show up and would be itching to leave his mom’s place as soon as he could. Jimmy gave Future one of their high five hugs, and patted me on the shoulder. It was just a step up from me also getting a high five hug, but not by much.

We got into Jimmy’s car, all three of us in the front. We started for Iz and Sol first, then Cheddar Bob. Once the car was full it was nothing but noise as each of the guys was talking over one another with Jimmy’s radio blaring as extra noise.

“How was work, by the way?” Jimmy asked me over the current argument between Future and Sol.

“Same bullshit as always,” I responded.

“I guess we should be lucky you even agreed to come out with us after working all day, meanwhile all we do is sit on our asses like a bunch of bums.”

I playfully nudged his shoulder. “Hey, you work, too.”

“I wouldn’t consider the Stamping work.”

I chuckled. I noticed then that we weren’t headed for the club. “Where are we going?”

“To pick up Alex.”

I felt my heart drop to my stomach. I looked over at Future. I couldn’t tell if he was actually deep in conversation with Iz or if he was just ignoring me. So this was who was joining us that he didn’t want to tell me about.

Alex.

She was a girl Jimmy had met at his work. She was a model apparently, or was trying to be one. Jimmy didn’t talk about her much, but the other guys didn’t waste a single moment in teasing him about her. It didn’t take a genius to realize he liked her.

Alex was waiting as Jimmy pulled up. She was wearing her usual mini skirt so short that you could basically see everything whenever she moved. It made me feel very self conscious about my choice in jeans.

Future opened the door and got out.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked. I already knew the answer and hoped he’d see the look of begging on my face.

“I’ll get in the back with the idiots,” he said. “I’d assume Alex will be more comfortable pressed up against you instead of Sol.”

“Yo, fuck you!” Sol snapped.

I hoped my clenched jaw would go unnoticed as Alex slid into the seat next to me. Her eyes immediately went to Jimmy and they shared a smile that made me wish I could throw myself from the moving car.

We got to the club and piled into our usual table while Future got the first round of shots. Cheddar Bob and Iz were sat on one end, I was in the middle, Jimmy and Alex were sat next to me, and Sol had pulled up a chair. When Future returned, he slid in next to Cheddar Bob. The table chorused with cheers as we held up our shots then shot them back.

I tried to play it cool, but having to sit next to Alex and Jimmy while they were flirting up a storm was making me more tense by the minute. When Sol offered to get the next round of drinks, I jumped to give him the money to buy me two of the strongest drinks he could for me. I downed the first one quickly, but took my time with the second. It didn’t take long for the shot and the first drink to kick in. My head was spinning and I felt care free and light as air.

At some point, when the drinks had hit me hard enough, I shoved against Iz’s shoulder and said (or rather slurred), “Hey, can you guys move? I gotta pee.”

“Yo, go the other way,” Future said. “There’s three of us here and only two on your other side.”

“You’re gonna break the dam this early in the night?” Sol asked. “You may as well sit on the end when you come out. You’ll be back and forth for the next few hours.”

“Look, I don’t care who moves and I don’t care where I sit when I come back, I just have to pee now.”

“Here, we’ll move,” Jimmy said.

He and Alex moved out of the booth and allowed me to get out. When I stood, I realized just how drunk I already was as I almost immediately lost my balance. I felt someone grab hold of me as the rest of the table chorused in laughter at my drunkenness. When I looked up, it was Jimmy that had taken hold of me. I smiled at him and he smiled back.

“I’m getting you water when you come back,” he said. “And you gotta pace yourself.”

“You’re always looking out for me,” I said. “You’re such a good friend.”

I put emphasis on the friend for my own benefit, but there was also some level of petty in the word. A reminder for both of us that that was the only way he saw me: as a friend. One of the guys that he went out drinking with every weekend, that he smoked with in the basement of someone’s house, that he ran around Detroit with causing mayhem since we were tykes.

I saw a look flash across his face that I couldn’t quite decipher, but I assumed I was just seeing things in my drunken haze.

I managed to make it to the bathroom on my own without incident. Once I was safely inside of a stall, I was able to sit down again. I almost didn’t want to get up and go back out to the table. Sitting was safe. The world didn’t spin when I was sat down. But I also couldn’t be sat on the toilet in a club bathroom all night either. I knew Sol was right about me going back and forth to the bathroom now that I had broken the dam, but if I put enough time between this bathroom visit and the next, maybe the spinning wouldn’t be as bad by then.

When I stepped out of the stall to wash my hands, I jumped to see that someone was waiting there.

Alex.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said.

I waved away her apology. “It’s fine. I just didn’t hear anyone else come in.”

I stepped around her to wash my hands. She turned to face me as I did. “Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”

I looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Is there anything going on between you and Jimmy?”

The question took me by surprise. Why would she think there was anything between us? In all the time that Jimmy had known Alex, I had only met her once before after the lot of us had run into her at a house party. I remembered Jimmy only having eyes for her that night, too. There was no reason I could even fathom that she would believe Jimmy and I had a thing going on when he was so clearly into her.

“No,” I said. “He’s my best friend. Has been since we were kids.”

“And that’s it? Just friendship?”

“Yeah. What’s this about?”

She sighed. “I really like Jimmy, and I thought he liked me, too. But he’s never really asked me out or anything yet. I didn’t know if maybe you two had a thing going on and I read the whole situation wrong. I’ve known far too many guys who claim to be just friends with a girl and turns out they’re actually fucking around.”

Trust me, I wish that’s what was going on here.

Against my better judgement, I put my hands on Alex’s shoulders and said, “If you really like Jimmy and you want things to be more serious, maybe you should make the first move.”

She looked as though she had never even considered that option. “You think so? That won’t seem too...direct?”

“Who gives a shit? Why do men always have to be the ones to make the first move? Most of them are fucking idiots anyways and wouldn’t know if a girl liked them even if she was telling him to his face.” Alex chuckled. “If you want him, go get him.”

She nodded. I was taken by surprise when she suddenly pulled me into a hug. I reluctantly patted her on the back and tried to put the best smile I could muster on my face.

“You’re the best,” she said. “I think we’re going to be great friends.”

I bit my tongue as she hurried out the bathroom door.

That interaction was enough to sober me up more than I wanted. I could feel myself tearing up, but tried to fight it back. I turned to lean against the sink and looked up at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t help but notice everything that Alex had that I didn’t: gorgeous face, sexy voice, body of a model. I couldn’t even dream of leaving the house in a skirt as short as hers without feeling completely embarrassed and exposed. Of course Jimmy would like her, and of course he was going to say yes when she asked him to go out with her.

I hung my head as the tears slipped from my eyes and ran down my face into the sink. I prayed no one would come into the bathroom and find me here crying, and luckily someone was looking out for me because no one did. Once I felt like I had cried myself dry, I quickly splashed my face with cold water and tried to pretend everything was alright. I figured everyone was going to question where I had been for so long, but I didn’t feel like coming up with a fake answer to tell them. If I told them to fuck off, they wouldn’t pry.

My steps faltered a little when I exited the bathroom and saw that Alex and Jimmy were missing from the table. I was tempted to go right to the bar and get another drink, but I pushed through and went back to my group of friends.

“Hey, you good?” Future asked as I sat down in the booth.

“Yeah, just sobered up a little,” I responded. “Where did Jimmy and Alex go?”

“Alex asked to talk to him in private,” Cheddar Bob responded. “But that was a while ago, so who knows where they are now.”

I noticed both Future and Iz elbow him, causing him to spill some of his drink on himself. I didn’t care to imagine where Jimmy had taken Alex after she asked him out. I didn’t need to have that image burned in my mind for the rest of the night.

Everyone went back to their conversations, but I found myself not paying any attention to them. I kept glancing around the club, expecting to see Jimmy and Alex tucked away in a private corner, sucking face as if they were trying to blend into one person. Or maybe they’d be on the dance floor, practically dry humping in front of everyone. I didn’t think Jimmy was one to dance, but Alex had enough allure that she could’ve probably convinced him. But I didn’t see them, and that almost made it all worse.

Eventually I stood from the table suddenly, bringing everyone’s attention to me. “I need some air.”

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” Cheddar Bob asked.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I said. I turned and quickly made for the exit.

Once I was outside, I breathed in the cool night air. It filled my lungs, but it didn’t seem to help soothe me at all.

“You alright?”

“Jesus!” I hissed as I turned towards the voice. It was Jimmy, leaning up against the club. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Free country,” he said with a shrug. “Are you good?”

“Just needed air. It felt very stuffy inside.”

I walked over to stand next to him. The rough brick wall dug into my back through my t-shirt. It was cool out, but not enough to make me feel like I needed a jacket or anything. I was standing so close to Jimmy that I could feel the heat coming from his body anyways.

“Where’s Alex?” I asked. “The guys said you two went off to talk in private.”

“She left,” he responded.

I looked at him in shock. “What? And went where?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Home, I guess?”

“Don’t you think you should’ve driven her? It’s not exactly the safest for her to be walking alone at night.”

“I offered, but she turned it down. Said she didn’t wanna see me ever again.”

I’ve definitely missed a lot of things here. “What happened?”

Jimmy sighed. “Well, she got up and went to the bathroom after you, said something about wanting to make sure you were okay where you were so drunk. Then when she came back she asked me if we could talk in private. She brought me outside and told me how she had been waiting for me to ask her out properly since we first met and she was tired of waiting, so she made the first move to ask me if I wanted to go on an official date with her.”

“And you said...”

He looked at me for a second before responding, “No. Obviously.”

Well, yeah, it was obvious that he said no. But what wasn’t obvious was why he had said no.

“I thought you were into her,” I said.

He laughed. “Who told you that?”

I shrugged. “The guys seemed convinced you were.”

“The guys don’t know shit about shit. They just like talking a big game and making fun of each other.” I just looked at him, waiting to see if there was any more he had to say. He looked at me then away again. “No, I’m not into her. She’s beautiful, yes, but I don’t see her that way.”

“Wait, so if you don’t see her like that, then why did you invite her tonight?”

“I didn’t. She was at the Stamping today and asked if she could come along. I guess this was her plan.”

Well, it wasn’t her plan until I told her to go after Jimmy, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

I felt like everything had just been flipped upside down. I was so sure that Jimmy had been reciprocating Alex’s feelings. It seemed like that anyways. Or maybe it seemed like that because I was making it seem that way. I was projecting something onto the two of them that wasn’t really there, I guess because of my jealousy?

“Sucks that she didn’t handle the rejection well,” I said.

“It wasn’t the rejection, it was the reason I rejected her.”

My brows furrowed together. “The reason being...you didn’t like her like that?”

“No. Well...yes. Kind of.”

“You know, for a man who can freestyle, you’re god awful with your words right now.”

He laughed and lightly nudged me with his shoulder. “It was the reason I said I don’t have feelings for her. I told her that I don’t like her because I like someone else and she didn’t handle that very well.”

I could feel my stomach turning to knots again. “Oh? Didn’t like the competition?”

“No, she said something along the lines of she should’ve trusted her gut, and that all guys who hang out with girls end up fucking them in the end.”

It took a second for what he said to register in my brain. When it did, I thought back to Alex talking to me in the bathroom and asking me if there was anything going on between Jimmy and I because she knew of too many guys who were friends with girls who they were actually fucking. Then, I put the pieces together in my head.

When I turned to look at Jimmy again, he was already watching me, waiting for me to come to the conclusion. “Me?!”

“Jesus, that took you long enough.”

“What do you mean that took me long enough?! Why the fuck haven’t you told me?!”

“Because you’re my best friend! We’ve known each other since kindergarten. If I told you I liked you and you didn’t like me back, that would fuck everything up between us and within the friend group. I would rather feel this way in silence than risk losing you as a friend.”

“If you had told me I would’ve told your dumbass that I like you, too, and I have since high school.”

“Wait...for real?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, for real!”

We both stood in silence. We shared a look, and then a smile broke out on Jimmy’s face. I couldn’t help but mirror it, and soon we were both laughing. With the absurdity of the situation, we couldn’t not laugh.

“We’re both dumbasses,” I said between fits of laughter.

“I guess so,” Jimmy agreed. “That brings up the question, though, of where do we go from here?”

“Well, I think we try a date, just the two of us and not those other idiots in there, and we see how things progress from there.”

He smiled. “Okay, I like that idea.”

“And we promise that if things don’t work out, we stay friends.”

“And we don’t tell the guys about any of this.”

I laughed. “Okay deal.”

[fillinforlater]

Monday of Appreciation: Part 106

Hello everyone, Smite here!

I have returned with the (not yet annual) release of MoA. When you look at the release dates of some of these stories, you might realize how fucking far behind I am. The back log is literally at 100+ fics that I still want to check out, so please excuse this time capsule lmao.

No matter how old they might be, these fics are golden, so send the writers some love!

(Update: currently sinking into IRL work but also into waaaaaay too long fics. I promise I will give it my all to finish some of them in the next to weeks, but other things have priority rn)

-1-

@ggidolsmuts: Move ft. Nana (woo!ah!)

There is a disturbing lack of Nana fics (geez, Smite, write them yourself then! - shut up, inner voice!). I have to thank ddeun once more for keeping us well fed. Nana's move(s) and shifty facial expressions (from cute to deadly) can really leave a man stunned.

I want more Nana.

-2-

@essentiallyleaf: Kinktober Day 16 ft. Choi Yujin (TW)

The Trigger Warning is there for a reason.

Unique execution on writing. This fic might not consider all the moral implications a sexual relationship between siblings might have, but not everything has to be a case study... this more a study of, I guess, let's fuck Yujin no matter the blood coursing through our veins.

I get it, ngl.

-3-

@worldsover: Completeness ft. Mashiro, Yeseo

The Mashiro/Yeseo combo is so thick, it should be banned for being too overpowered - or at least it has to be stripped from the hands of the great Levi because otherwise I have to ask for more, more, MORE of this. Hell, I can barely think about anything but their bodies wtf

-4-

@praeluxius: Red Wine ft. Karina, Natty

Speaking of insane bodies, you are all of course familiar with the meta-defining Karina but have you considered Natty? How about both? At the same time??? Thank you and what in the fuck, Prael, for a very intoxicating threesome.

-5-

@syeollock: Fallen Angel ft. Hyewon

Yo, I know this fic! I'm very glad @syeollock was able to kick of their writing career with this it. I feel honored that I was able to help, but they were the one who came up with the idea and executed it very well. It's a pleasure to still see so much IZ*ONE content.

-6-

@birchleavesdawn: Breakfast in Bed ft. Ireh (Purple Kiss)

Very simple, though it is not simple to get that many notes with a very nugu idol. I gotta give my props, I understand were it is coming from and I'm really craving some Ireh for desserts.

-7-

@tothosewhoyearnforit: Stress Relief ft. Yeji

Relatable. The stress, I mean. I've never been a fan of leather outfits, I just find most others better, but holy fuck, the boots, the slut drop, the overall style... this Yeji was something else.

[displ3azant]

CURRENTLY ASK-ABLE: - Unpleasant - Infected (Plez oversees the questions, though.)

(Before cut is In-Character.)

Hiii! Helloooo!

Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.

So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.

Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.

Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.

BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇

(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)

To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.

And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.

Blog-Context

So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...

I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!

MAIN TAGS:

#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks

#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs

#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar

#ooc - Out-of-character post

OTHER TAGS (to be updated):

(nothing yet, hehe)

Blog-Owner

So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!

I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.

My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.

Ask/RP-Boundaries

Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.

ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.

Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.

Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.

Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,

PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!

That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe

Lots of love, - Hex

[vex91]

Ahn Yujin - Jealousy, jealousy

Pairing: Ahn Yujin x Female Reader (Highschool AU)

Fandom: IZ*ONE / IVE

Summary: You hated how perfect Ahn Yujin was or maybe you just hated her but only if you knew the hatred wasn't reciprocated then maybe you would realize stuff sooner.

A/N: Of course Yujin needs to be the first fic on this blog 🙂‍↕️

Part 2

3rd's POV

Ahn Yujin.

She was the definition of perfection. Perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, perfect friends and perfect family - it was so hard to find any bad thing about her.

You on the other hand weren't that. Your grades were average at best, you weren't as pretty as her, your personality was often talked about as annoying, you only had 2 friends for your whole life and your relationship with your parents was shitty.

You were jealous of her whole life and it only fueled your hatred.

"Y/N come here" You looked up at the sound of your best friend's voice. Smiling you walked over to her "Rei, you're unusually cheerful today. Something finally happened between you and Jiwon?" Rei slapped your shoulder at your remark and shushed you quickly since Jiwon was close by with her friends. Well Jiwon knew about Rei's crush on her so you didn't know what Rei wanted to hide exactly but it's her business.

"Are you coming to that party at Gaeul's house?" Your best friend asked causing you to raise an eyebrow until you realized what she was talking about.

"I don't know, all annoying people from our school are gonna be there" Rei rolled her eyes at your comment before shaking your arm "Come on, it's gonna be fun. Me and Jiwon are going" The thought of going to a where you would see Yujin's face and also third-wheeling your best friends wasn't the most tempting one but you could never say no when Rei made that face.

"Fine but you're the one explaining everything to my parents when they find out"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here she was - Ahn Yujin in all her glory having fun with her friends. Honestly you should've guessed that she was gonna be there since it was her best friend's party but you really tried not to think about her and destroy your mood. As long as she would stay away from you then the party won't be so bad, you just need to focus on your friends.

It's easier said than done because it seemed like wherever you went, she was right there too.

You tried to keep your cool but it was harder and harder until you couldn't hold it in anymore and you exploded on her when she finally approached you.

Her reaction wasn't what you expected, she was standing still and completely not affected by your harsh words. It even amused her as she kept looking at you with a small smirk.

"What?"

Yujin shrugged "Nothing much, you just look cute when you're trying to yell at me from down there" You became red at her words, so now she was making fun of your height? This girl was unbelievable.

"Why are you always so-"

"So in love with you?"

You quickly closed your mouth, your ears became red at her words. Out if everything you weren't expecting that but honestly it was Yujin, she couldn't have been serious.

"Stop joking around"

"I'm not. Remember when you got so angry at the fact I won that science contest and destroyed my project after? I kept the pieces because they remind me how cute you looked that day when you were so determined to win. Or when you pushed me into water during our school trip to the beach, your laugh when you were with your friends later stayed in my head. I love everything about you" During her whole speech you were silent, the whole time you thought that she hated you, just like you hated her but now you're finding out it wasn't like that?

"Do you really hate her though"

Rei's words kept coming back to you as you stared at Yujin but the moment was interrupted by your phone suddenly calling. You looked down and cursed when you saw your mom's name displayed on it.

"I need to go" You quickly said and tried to push past her but she quickly held your hand to stop you. Without another word she walked you out of the house and onto the cold streets. Before the cold could hit you though she put on her jacket on you.

"I'll walk you home" Yujin loudly announced and before you could protest she added "I don't take no as an answer. You can hate me later, right now you look like you can't be alone... at least in my eyes" The staring competition between you two continued until you gave up and led the way while Yujin quietly followed after you with her hands in her pockets.

The whole way home was spend in silence, the only sound that could be heard were the cars passing by from time to time. Yujin felt weird seeing you like that, you rarely kept yourself from making some snarky comments to her that made her day every time. Weird but Yujin just liked any sort of communication she had with you, even if it was you being angry with her.

It was clear it was because of your family, Yujin could feel the cold aura coming off of the house from miles away, it was far from the place you would want to come back to. And seeing you clenching your fists before going to the door assured her of that and Yujin immediately stopped you. She didn't want you to in there.

You looked up at her confused and Yujin only looked away embarrassed. She thought of what to say before muttering "I can walk you to Rei's house, I'm sure she's back home and would be happy to let you stay the night" It looked like the idea was tempting to you but the fear of your parents made you hesitate. Yujin squeezed your hand and let you think about it more and soon you only nodded.

At Rei's house your parents kept blowing your phones with calls and messages but you didn't really care at that moment when you could only look at Yujin's disappearing figure with mixed feelings.

What was that night?

[gxtzeizm]

💗💜Hello my dear Iz and happy birthday to you !!! 🥳🎉Enjoy this special day as much as you can. I hope you will be able to celebrate it in the way you want to celebrate. Now that you're a year older I wish you, mainly, to stay as you are because you're an amazing person but also to grow and to discover in yourself new abilities to overcome challenges. I wish you all the best. I send you a kiss 😘 and a warm hug 🤗 that I hope will convey all my love and appreciation. Also since I'm not able to bake you you're favourite cheesecake, instead I'm sending you a drawing of it ( sorry for the quality of this I'm really bad at drawing 🫣).

Ps : If Bayern doesn't treat you well today I'm personally going to Munich to give them a roasting, I promise you 😃

HELLOOOO LISE MY DEAR BESTIE 💗💗💗💗

MY GODDD THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR WISH ISTG I DON'T DESERVE ALL THOSE WISHES FROM YOU 😭😭. you're such a kind, nice and the most beautiful person in my view 🥺🥺. well yeah hugs and kisess for you as well 🫂😘💕💕. btw, thank you so much for the cheesecake drawing it's really a beautiful drawing icl about this <3333. seeing your drawing makes me having so much hope on my mom to bake it for me but i know that she's also busy with her work at school 😭😭. but i'm just waiting right now to see what are the treats they'll give to me later 😉😉. ANYWAYS, I'M REALLY APPRECIATE ALL OF THOSE WISHES TO YOU ILYSM 🥰🥰

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unorthodox 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you bring order to the disordered life of Captain Syverson.

Characters: Captain Syverson, this reader is known as Izzie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“I think that’s everything,” you smile at Conrad across the table. 

Sy continues to loom and pace around the edge of the room. He’s been doing that. Hovering like a vulture. Even when you try to get him to participate, he only has grumbles and glares. You’re used to his grumpiness but lately, he’s been nearly intolerable. 

“Mm, yes, I think it is,” Conrad smirks, “shall we have a celebratory drink? Seems the old boar could use it?” 

“I’m younger than you,” Sy stomps over, his ears sharp. “So how’s that?” 

“Yes, well, one might not guess it by looking. Do relax, I am merely making fun,” Conrad crosses his arms. “Is there a reason you are so antsy to be away? I was rather happy to receive an old friend such as yourself.” 

“Nice seein’ ya and all but we gotta get back,” Sy crosses his arms. “Izzie’s got friends waitin’, don’t ya?” 

He nudges you with his elbow and you send him a skeptical look. Since when did he care so much? 

“Ah yes, so you mentioned some wonderful ladies back home. Do have a drink in my honour. Such a considerate boss, eh, Syverson?” He smirks. 

You stand and press your fingertips to the table, “thanks. Uh, I guess he’s right. The sooner we’re on the road, the sooner we’re back. It was nice meeting you. And doing business.” 

“Always a pleasure, Syverson, and I do enjoy a beautiful lady darkening my door now and again.” 

Sy growls and you try not to notice. You’re not sure if it’s territorial or what but you don’t need him acting like a guard dog. You prefer his slightly oblivious gruffness to his intense derision. 

“Thank you. You’re a great host.” 

You shake Conrad’s hand and he tugs it up. Once again, he kisses your knuckles and sends you a wink. Sy grabs your other arm and yanks you away. 

“Get on with it, Izzie,” he snarls as he drags you away. 

You stagger with his furious pace, not mentioning that he hardly bothered to give a proper goodbye. The way he’s gripping you so tight, you can’t think of much else but the creak in your bones. You dig in your heels as you get through the compound door. 

“Yow! Sy!” You yank your hand away at last. He takes a few steps before he stops and faces you. “What is your problem? You can’t grab me like that.” You raise your arm and rub the tender skin, “you hurt me.” 

“Ah, I’m-- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, Iz. Ya know I wouldn’t ever--” 

“But you did. What’s gotten into you, anyway? Why are you being so rude?” 

“I’m not,” he harrumphs and drops his shoulders. “I just wanna be home. Bein’ out here in all this sand, takes me back. That’s it.” 

“Is that it?” You challenge and stand straight. Even with perfect posture, you hardly measure up to the large man. 

Sy frowns, “I’m sorry, Izzie, truly. Why don’t ya give me a smack then? I deserve it.” 

You almost laugh, instead snorting, “I wouldn’t-- I’m not that sort, you know that.” 

“I do. It’s why I like ya, Iz. You temper me out. I’m a big oaf without you,” he looks away bashfully. “How about you go grab your bag and I’ll go say sorry. You’re right. No way to treat a friend. And partner.” 

You consider him and slowly nod. “Alright, I’ll meet you at the gate then.” 

“Sure thing, sugar.”  

You tilt your head at the pet name but have no time to comment. You move aside as he moves towards you and let him pass. You stare after him for a second then turn back to your path. You know how he feels. You just want to be home in your bed. Oh, and it would be nice to have cell reception. 

You find your room after a few stray wanderings and grab your bag. You head back out, still lost in the maze of the compound. You find the sunlight and walk out into the blaze of the noontime apex. You go to the gate and peer around at the mercenaries in their padded vests and harnesses. 

As you wait, you grow uneasy. You’re still not entirely used to this job. Not always. It’s easier to manage Sy’s grocery list or his forgotten appointments, but out here, in the shit as he calls it, you feel lost. 

He appears with a wave of his large hand. The fingerless glove nearly blends into his skintone from the wear and tear. You face him fully as he approaches and he points behind you. 

“Ready to go for a ride?”  

You follow his finger to the buggy just on the other end of the yard. You squint and turn back to him. 

“Conrad can be nice when he wants to,” he grins, “you wanna drive?” 

You stare at him, deeply considering the prospect. You don’t know if you trust him to make the drive and yet, you don’t if you should trust yourself either. He dangles the key from a thick finger and you roll your eyes. 

“I wanna get outta here in one piece,” you snatch it. 

He chuckles and lets you have it. He reaches for you and you wince. He grabs the strap of your bag and hauls it onto his shoulder next to his. 

“I’ll get these secured, Iz,” he offers. 

You hesitate. He’s being awfully helpful. Not that he can’t be but the last few days have been strange. You guess both of you might be getting a bit homesick. 

[puttersmile]

Why I like Dogday x Bobby Bearhug

Working off of my last Crittertember post, posting the shipping manifesto for the four of you who are just dying to know, lol.

Part 1 of Post: Here. Just a lot of pictures.

I guess I should start with how I started liking the ship in the first place. As best as I can remember it started with a mildly intense obsession with the Smiling Critters after seeing them in Poppy Playtime Chapter 3. Their carboard soundboards specifically intrigued me. As a fandom we really had ziltch to work with so maybe I was hyper-analyzing their phrases to see if anything could be gleamed from them.

There isn't much unless we are meant to believe Picky is literally a cannibal. I don't think so? I think the voice lines have been corrupted by the metric ton of death that happened within the factory. Be it as it may, what little we fanon-ize about the critters, a lot of it is probably coming from those soundboards.

A post about this already exists on tumblr but at some random point I thought, "Weird Bobby Bearhug and Dogday's cut outs sound like they are talking to one another." Not sure how my brain jumped to that conclusion but it did. As seen in this post with some old oogly art I drew.

And then @meowcola made my dream come true by editing the two voices together. Yhaass! For this I am forever grateful to my fellow shipper.

I don't think any of the other critter's voice lines bounce off of each other as well as these two do (admittedly with slight editing), or even at all. But Bobby and Dogday's cutouts almost seem to have a conversation that don't work played against any of the others. Dogday trying to push someone away that he cares for and Bobby desperately trying to stay with someone she cares for.

Dogday's fall is he cares too much.

Bobby's fall is she doesn't care enough. For herself.

Obviously they are talking to the player actually but my fanon ship brain interpreted it differently. I guess from there, albeit a doomed one, I shipped this ship fairly hard.

The rest of this rambling essay under the cut:

Why I think they work:

Dogday and Bobby’s relationship is mostly about balance. While Dogday’s the brave and daring leader of the group (except when there's a thunderstorm—he tries), Bobby’s the physically strong yet practical one. She’s a total powerhouse,(literal mama bear energy) ready to protect when needed, but only as a last resort. Dogday loves how protective she is, and Bobby really appreciates his loyalty, especially since it helps with her self-worth issues.

One of Bobby’s biggest insecurities is that she believes she’s annoying to her friends. Even though it’s clear she’s not, in the back of her mind, she constantly second-guesses her actions. She’ll wonder if hugging someone is the right move in the moment or if she’s overstepping. Dogday, on the other hand, is someone who thrives on affection and would never get tired of Bobby’s hugs, making him the perfect counter to her uncertainty.

Both of them would share a strong sense of humor, which helps them face life’s challenges with optimism. Dogday is especially good at this.  They know how to lighten the mood and bring joy to each other’s lives, even when the weight of everything starts to creep in.

Bobby’s also got a knack for stepping in when Dogday forgets to take care of himself. She’s nurturing, and in return, Dogday reminds her she’s worth it, which she sometimes forgets. Though Bobby’s not Dogday’s second-in-command (that’s usually Bubba Bubbaphant), she’s the one Dogday confides in emotionally when leadership wears him down.

Over time, Bobby finds herself leaning on Dogday, too, sharing her deepest insecurities and struggles with him.

What really makes them work is how much everyone trusts Bobby. She’s the keeper of everyone’s secrets because they just naturally open up to her. And eventually, Dogday becomes her rock, giving them this deep emotional connection where they’re both vulnerable and open with each other.

Bobby’s practicality also helps balance out Dogday’s crazier ideas. She rarely says “no” outright, but she’s good at restructuring them to make things safer or less chaotic. If safety’s not the issue, then they’re often the ones mediating when their friends have disagreements. They’ve both learned the importance of compromise and work together to bring peace to any tense situation.

I feel like their brief character descriptions show how good they would both be at this.

They’re known as the “mom and dad” of the group, always looking out for everyone’s physical and emotional well-being.

It’s funny how differently they approach things, like planning events—Dogday’s spontaneous energy versus Bobby’s structured organization—but they still make a great team.

In public, they’ve got this super cute Barbie/Ken - Mickey&Minnie vibe, showing their love for each other without hesitation. It’s strong, proud, and they never shy away from letting everyone know how much they mean to each other!

Character flaws/dark side of the ship:

At their darkest, Bobby and Dogday have some pretty complex flaws. Bobby, when she’s at her worst, can be manipulative. She’s got this way of playing on people’s emotions, sometimes twisting things to suit her needs, all while wearing a caring face. It’s like she knows people trust her and she uses that to her advantage, especially if she’s feeling insecure or threatened.

On the flip side, Dogday’s biggest weakness is his fear of hurting others. He’ll go to great lengths to avoid conflict, even if it means letting himself be hurt. He’s so afraid of causing pain or upsetting someone that he’ll bottle up his own feelings or allow himself to be taken advantage of.

This combination can be dangerous when their issues align, with Bobby’s manipulation and Dogday’s passive acceptance creating a pretty toxic dynamic in their worst moments. Thankfully this outcome is incredibly hard for me to see happening. It is still a possibility though.

(In some messed up but interesting fanfiction)

Other Stuff:

On the wiki I saw something incredibly minute but decided to go ahead and make something of it.  There is the idea, at least, that Dogday is named after “Dogstar” aka Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. If you think about Dogday being associated with Sirius, the Dog Star, and Bobby representing Ursa Major aka The Big Dipper, in my mind it symbolizes how their relationship works.

Sirius is the brightest star, leading the way, just like Dogday, who's bold, full of energy, and always guiding others. Bobby, on the other hand, is like Ursa Major—steady, reliable, and always there to support.

Their relationship reflects that balance: Dogday’s light and leadership are complemented by Bobby’s protective, grounding nature. Together, they’re like two guiding forces—he lights the way, and she provides the strength and stability needed to stay on course.

It’s almost like he can shine brighter because he knows she’s there, holding things together.

And for Bobby, Dogday is the spark that keeps her moving forward, even when she feels uncertain.

It’s also cool how Ursa Major is used for navigation, like Bobby helps Dogday find his way emotionally. Meanwhile, Sirius has been a marker of important times like the "dog days" of summer or the flooding of the Nile river, (The flooding of the Nile is celebrated btw, it's a good thing) just as Dogday marks big changes in Bobby’s life.

They balance each other out like the constellations they represent: one a guiding light, the other a steady, protective force in the background.

I think about the cardboard cutout order. Bobby and Dogday are among the last supposedly, holding out even longer than the athletic Hoppy. I interpret that to mean Bobby on her own has a strong will and some amount of bravery.

Not to throw shade at the others who fell before, as it could have all come down to bad luck.(or bad platforming skills--burn.)  But I bring the “possible” death order up as some might say Bobby’s sweet and caring nature means she is weak or useless. I don’t think so.

This is also why I characterize Bobby as sort of a lady-like yet cute bruiser. Dogday is brave but not the strongest critter by far.  Dogday is  Zelda and Bobby is Link lol.  Bobby Bearhug is his knight in fluffy armor, and Dogday is Bobby’s warm home.

There is a tragedy to this. If Bobby was one of the last two  with Dogday in the game. (Going by the order the cardboard cutouts are seen.) I imagine she was doing her best to support him, only for Dogday to abandon Bobby near the end. As the leader, Dogday did what he thought was best and it broke her, ultimately ending them both.

How the relationship Helps them grow:

Not wanting to end this on a down note I’ll speak a bit more on how the relationship enhances both of them.

Bobby’s practical, more thoughtful approach doesn’t just temper Dogday’s adventurous spirit as what may be expected from a dynamic like this. In fact it enhances his daring. 

Yes, it'll ease him off riskier behavior but it enables him to be a more successful leader with her providing safety nets and or foundations for him to be confident. It's not just him willing confidence from within, there's another external pillar to  bolster his confidence. That pillar being her secret knowledge of their friends. While Bobby won't be spilling secrets, she'd certainly know how to guide Dogday in the right direction when it comes to helping the others.

She helps ensure that his ideas are successful and safe, so he'll not only be able to focus his energy on particulars but he'll have the confidence to be the best leader he can be, knowing he won't just come crashing down to earth.  

In turn Dogday's boundless energy, brings joy and spontaneity to Bobby’s more grounded maybe reserved, structured world.  Though she is strong she likely tends to fall back to what's familiar, to what's safe. There is strength in the familiar in the sense of you know for sure you are strong here, but out there things may be more uncertain. 

Out there you can feel weak. At least that's the perception for some with issues of self worth. But now with his energy, his enthusiasm, his optimism, and his light, she'll have the freedom to step out of her usual comfort zones and perhaps be more than she may have imagined. 

Sooo yeah. This ship is not bad. Nor is it boring. I'll never understand how this sentiment came about. Opposites attract isn't the only way a relationship can be interesting. Okay people?

 And that is all that I have to say! Thanks for listening to my CritterTalk.

[jihyoruri]

HEART RACING — idol!sakura miyawaki x idol!reader

warnings: alcohol,gidle!reader, yn and sakura are a mess

sakura sat in her seat smiling at youngji as the girl was talked, since lesserafim has recently done a comeback she was invited to the show, but what she didn’t know was that someone else will be on the show with her as well.

“so.” youngji said clasping her hands together, “you aren’t the only person that will be on this show today.” she said smiling.

sakura let a surprised expression overtake her face, maybe it was one of her members or maybe it was an iz*one member.

“they’ve recently had a comeback as well.” youngji said giving sakura a pointed look, okay for sure sakura thinks it’s one of her members. “I think we can bring her in now.”

the door opened and it definitely wasn’t one of sakura’s members that’s for sure.

she knows who you are, you’re yn gidle’s maknae, she’s had some interactions with you especially in 2019 with both you and her being rookies, you’re known for your looks, sakura definitely know that from experience, which makes this a little embarrassing.

she remembers it like it was yesterday, gidle won an award and it was your turn to speak your older members pushing you to the mic, cheers and screams filling everyone’s ears at your face on the billboard, you looked unreal.

sakura remembers being completely mesmerized, her mouth agape, eyes wide, completely unaware of the camera now being on her.

that was the day she went viral.

sakura cringed at the memory before shaking her head and giving you a welcoming smile as youngji shouts and cheers at your entrance.

“you know he was off today but came in because you were gonna be here.” youngji says exposing one of her staffs that were in the background.

“oh, really.” yn says smiling before giving him a bow and a wave at him.“I feel my ego getting bigger.”

youngji laughs before pulling you in and placing you beside sakura, “sit, sit.”

youngji let’s put a big sigh and sits in her seat as well, “now that everyone is here, let’s get down to business.” she says and begins to open the alcohol.

sakura tenses a little when she feels you scoot a little over to her to get into the frame, “let’s get talking.” youngji says enthusiastically, “so, you both have comebacks.”

“yes.” yn and sakura say at the same time nodding their heads.

“how was the process.” youngji says passing the drinks to the two girls, “how was things.”

sakura looks at yn, obviously expecting her to go first.

“oh, me.” yn says laughing to herself, “um, it was good, soyeon unnie always knows how to put things together and make a great concept.”

yn the takes a look at sakura, implying that the older girl should follow up.

“uh,” sakura say’s awkwardly feeling very tenses under your gaze, “this comeback was very fun to work on as well, I think think my favourite part was definitely doing the photos for the teasers.” she then takes big sip of her drink, feeling the need to relax under your gaze.

“yes,yes.” youngji says, “it must be so nice being in the position that you guys are in right now with very successful comebacks, you both debuted in 2018 right?” she says taking a sip from her drink.

sakura nods her head but yn laughs.

“I wouldn’t say sakura unnie debuted in 2018.” yn laughs taking a sip from her drink, “she’s lived many lives.”

youngji laughs before giving yn a suggestive look, “you know a lot about her life im guessing yn?” she asks taking another sip of her drink.

yn leans back and laughs, “when I was younger I was a big fan of HKT48 and AKB48.” yn says taking a glance at sakura.

“was?” sakura asks raising a brow.

youngji also raised a brow, “yeah was?” she asks before laughing, “when did you stop being a big fan?”

yn looks up in thought, “uh, I don’t know, maybe 2020, 2021.” yn says shrugging her shoulders.

“when i graduated?” sakura says in shock, leaning towards yn so they can make eye contact.

youngji smiles, deciding to steer the pot, “was sakura your favourite?”

it’s obvious that the drinks are getting to yn, when she leans closer to sakura’s already close face, and giggles, “she was a my favourite.”

sakura yelps and leans back as youngji’s loud laugh filled the room.

their conversations continued and the more thank drank the more it got more interesting and chaotic and one thing about drunk yn is flirty yn.

“so..” youngji drags out, “is there any dating in your lives?” she asks laughing at her own question.

skaura eyes widened, this is the first time in a while she’s been asked this question.

yn shakes her head immediately, letting her thoughts take over her, “you know, every idol that you ask will say the same answer, no.” she states, “but I’m serious I’m not in relationship, they might be lying but I’m not.” she says nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders.

“if there was someone who’s would it be?” youngji asks giving yn a pointed look.

yn thinks for second before leaning into sakuras side, their bodies squished against each other, “probably sakura unnie, she’s so pretty.” yn says with a teasing voice and youngji lets out an animated gasp.

sakura feels like she’s on fire,her heart was racing, maybe it was the alcohol but she sorta liked it, she leaned into yn a little as well.

“how about you sakura ?”

it was definitely the alcohol in her system as sakura raised her hand to yn’s cheekbones, caressing them before being her hand to yn’s hair and dragging her fingers through it, “probably yn, she’s so charismatic and pretty.”

youngji throws her head back and laughs at the mess in front on her, “you both are lightweights.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a lightweight.” yn says dragging her hands down to sakura’s waist and and throwing one of her legs over sakura’s as the japanese girl nods in agreement.

youngji looks straight at the camera with a “is she serious.” face.

the rest of time was filled with youngji dealing with a very tipsy and touchy duo, but the run had to end soon.

youngji jumped out of seat and waved, “bye lightweights!”

yn waved and messily blew a kiss with her hand that wasn’t occupied with sakura’s at youngji and staff before being dragged through the door with sakura.

when the door shut youngji looked at the camera with a exasperated sigh.