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kingkaisen · 1 month ago

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DOCTOR, DOCTOR!

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Being a surgeon is hard enough, but dealing with attractive men who can’t seem to get enough of their pretty doctor? Well . . .

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ ONLY || MINORS DNI — multi! jjk x surgeon! reader (separate) ft. sukuna, choso, gojo, nanami, toji, & geto, very tiny amounts of smut, mainly just suggestive, fluff, some angst, modern au, mentions of injuries and blood.

♡ — 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I don’t know much about the medical field, so there will be some inaccuracies!

⚕️ — 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

“There is no reason whatsoever as to why my surgical patients have to suffer due to your incompetence. They’re post-op. Post-op. These people have been freshly cut open, and they need enough medicine to manage their pain.” You strode down the brightly-lid hospital hallway. The two nurses at the receiving end of your anger struggled to keep up with your quick pace. “After I visit with Mr. Sukuna, I’ll be stopping by Mrs. Mura’s room, and that poor woman better not be in tears again from a lack of quality care when I get there.”

“Y-Yes, doctor.” The nurses nodded. They scurried off as you stopped outside an oak-colored wooden door.

You knocked twice before opening it, entering Sukuna’s hospital room with a fake smile to disguise your anger.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Sukuna.” Approaching the man propped up in his bed, you folded your arms across your chest, and he smirked up at you.

Briefly, you turned to face the slumped-over inmate guard dozing off in a recliner chair in the corner of the room.

“Sir? Would you mind stepping out for a moment?”

The guard snapped awake at the sound of your voice, nodded, and yawned, rising to his feet as he dragged himself out of Sukuna’s hospital room. After all, the prisoner was chained to his hospital bed, so it would be perfectly fine for him to waste some spare change visiting a few vending machines for a couple of snacks, right?

“How are you feeling?” You asked Sukuna once you both found yourselves alone.

“Drop the act,” Sukuna paused. He grabbed his white remote and muted the television displaying old reruns of boring game shows. “Tell me what’s got you upset.”

“Something that is much too inappropriate for me to discuss with a patient.” You let your face fall into a frown.

“Even your favorite one?”

“My favorite?” You raised your eyebrows, smiling softly as you pressed a button on the side rails of Sukuna’s bed, lowering him just a bit. “You and your ego.”

“I’m just sayin’, if you’ve got a problem with someone, y’know I’ll take care of it for you.”

You leaned over Sukuna, shining your pen light into one of his eyes. “See? Comments like that are exactly why your left wrist is handcuffed to your bed.”

“Relax, I’m just messin’ around,” he gave you a sly smile.

You pulled away from him briefly. “No, you’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” Sukuna’s eyes slowly trailed over your body, taking in the sight of you from head to toe. “Just say the word, pretty girl.”

“First of all,” you paused, your voice stern, though you could hardly fight off the strong urge to smile. “Drop the nicknames already. Second of all, how are you supposed to take care of my problems while you’re cuffed, under constant supervision, and healing from an arm fracture? A complicated and complex one at that. I was operating on you for quite some time. I’m guessing your violent behavior led to it.”

Hunger lingered in Sukuna’s gaze. He had no appetite for the bland, half-eaten hospital food getting old and stale on a discarded tray on the other side of his bed.

No.

He was starving for the gorgeous surgeon in front of him right now. And after having all the time in the world to lie around and think, think, think, it dawned on him that, perhaps, his growing affection wasn’t one-sided.

“A complicated surgery your excuse for not discharging me already? I think someone likes having me around.” The tip of Sukuna’s tongue darted out briefly as he licked his bottom lip. You turned your head away from his piercing stare, suddenly overcome with shyness.

“Don’t get all embarrassed now,” Sukuna teased.

It was rather odd. Lying to patients — or, as you preferred to think of it, temporarily withholding the truth for their own benefit — was a skill all doctors had to learn. By now, you had considered yourself a master at doing so.

Until it came to Ryomen Sukuna.

Oh, he could see right through you . . . could destroy your detached, professional, tough attitude that one needs to have to survive the medical field and reduce you into nothing more than a shy girl with a crush. A crush on her own damn patient.

“You know what? After I finish examining you, I’m gonna work on getting you discharged first thing tomorrow,” you said, leaning over him yet again. Your penlight shined into his other eye.

Sukuna’s gentle breath patted against your face as he mumbled, “constantly examining my eyes even though my arm was the problem. You’re looking for any reason to get close to me, doc.”

The bright light seized with the click of your thumb. Though your eye exam was done, you hadn’t yet pulled away from him.

“I’m just doing my job. You’re making it more complicated than it needs to be, which is why I can’t support the decision to discharge you just yet,” you said.

“You think I believe that? Let me show you how well my arm’s healing up.” Sukuna’s injured arm was in a cast, but he wouldn’t let that hold him back. One second, you were leaning over Sukuna, and the next, he was grabbing your leg and pulling you over his lap, making you straddle him.

“I can toss you around just fine. But I’ll let you keep up with your little act,” Sukuna gripped the collar of your white coat. “After my eyes, you always examine my mouth, right? Tell me what you think, doc.”

With the hunger of a starving man, he connected your lips. A little gasp of surprise escaped from you. Sukuna was quick to use that opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and swirling it around yours. Your breath was minty — he could taste it. If he wasn’t currently swallowing your soft moans while moving his mouth against yours, he would have teased you over freshening your breath before coming to visit him.

You broke the kiss a while later due to a lack of air. Damn your lungs. They felt as if they were on fire by the time Sukuna leaned back, a sly smirk on his face.

“Examination go well?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“It’s . . . um, just as I thought.” You stammered, pausing to breathe. “You’re displaying certain symptoms that have me concerned. We might need to keep you here for an extra day or two.”

Sukuna smirked yet again. Shaking his head in disbelief, he said, “If you wanna keep me here, you better take those scrubs off right now.”

“But we could get caught-”

“Just shut up and come sit on my face.”

⚕️ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

On what was a late Wednesday afternoon, you tossed your empty cup of coffee into a nearby garbage can. The next surgery on your chaotic schedule was meant to be a simple procedure done on a young man’s knee, and according to his pre-op lab work, his vitals were just fine. Ideal blood pressure. Quite healthy. No behavioral issues.

So far, so good . . .

Until you walked into his hospital room.

It is rather expected for surgeons to introduce themselves to their patients before an operation, which is why you entered Choso’s dark room to begin with and flipped on the lights.

But, when the unfamiliar man’s dark brown eyes landed on you, they widened. His cheeks and ears darkened to a pinkish shade of red, and he began to cough. The ice water he was sipping on nearly spewed from between his lips.

You rushed over worriedly, yet calmly.

“Keep coughing, don’t hold the water in or you’ll continue to choke.” With one hand, you grabbed the plastic cup on his overbed table, holding it to his mouth. With the other, you eased him forward, ready to give his back a couple of blows if necessary, but rubbing it soothingly in the meantime.

Eventually, his light choking session came to an end after he spat the water out, and no drastic measures were needed.

However, his skin hadn’t returned to its previous pale shade. His cheeks and ears were much too red for your liking.

After a brief introduction and overview of the operation — all talking on your part, not a word from him — you gave him a serious glance.

“Would it be alright for me to check your vitals myself? I know your nurse already did so, but you still seem a little flushed. I’m sure it’s from the little choking mishap, but I would still like to double-check.”

He nodded, avoiding your gaze and staring only at the white blanket draped over him. You removed the stethoscope from around your neck.

A quiet or shy patient was nothing usual. Beyond that, he was probably embarrassed about what happened, along with the general anxiety that builds up within most people at the idea of having surgery.

Therefore, you spoke as softly as you could, pressing the cool, circular end of the stethoscope against his chest.

“Take a deep breath for me,” you said.

You checked a few different areas before pulling away from him, hanging your stethoscope underneath the collar of your white coat.

“You have a rapid heartbeat. Is this a regular occurrence?”

“No.”

His heart rate should have calmed down by now had it been related to the water incident, you thought.

“Well, I’d like to check it again in a couple of minutes. We might have to consider scheduling you for an ECG if nothing changes. Have you experienced any palpitations, dizziness, or shortness of breath?”

Choso looked off to the side at nothing in particular.

“Only . . . right now,” he mumbled.

“Oh, I see,” you smiled gently, though he couldn’t see it. You were certain he’d stare directly into the sun just to avoid looking you in the eye. “Nervous around doctors, I understand.”

“I’m not usually nervous around doctors,” Choso fiddled with his folded fingers resting in his lap. He scratched one thumb with the other, breathing unsteadily.

You hid your confusion and concern behind an expressionless face, one as blank as a new canvas.

Tightening the blood pressure cuff around his muscular arm was your next move, one made in a thick awkward silence. The fact that he was in seemingly great shape only worsened your worry.

After all, those who exercised regularly were known to have a resting heart rate lower than the average person. Not higher.

You weren’t a fool.

From the very moment you took your first pre-med undergraduate course, you were taught time and time again that even those who took exceptional care of themselves could become victims of several illnesses. You’ve witnessed it yourself. Seen or performed tumor removals, cracked open chests, or sliced into the stomachs of countless amount of people who seemed healthy. Or tried their hardest to be that way.

Was that the case now? Was this seemingly healthy guy unknowingly suffering from some sort of heart condition?

Those were the questions running through your mind when the screen monitoring his blood pressure blinked red. The cuff released a puff of air as it stopped squeezing his bicep.

“Elevated blood pressure,” you said.

Removing the cuff, you darted your eyes down to his face.

“You shouldn’t be concerned. I’m fine,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t need any tests. I’m just nervous. Not because of the surgery or because you’re a doctor, but you’re . . . pretty.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Reaching down, you gave his fidgeting hand a reassuring squeeze.

Being that his vitals appeared normal when being checked by someone else, then perhaps, he was telling the truth.

“Thank you,” you pulled your hand away. “Just to be safe and test your theory, I’ll have you sit here for a few minutes, and I’ll send a nurse back in to recheck everything one last time. If it all looks good, no ECG. How does that sound?”

For the first time since your arrival, Choso’s chocolate brown eyes met yours.

“That won’t work,” he mumbled. “Even if you bring in someone who isn’t you, I will still be thinking of you in a few minutes, so my heart rate and blood pressure will still be high. I’m sorry.”

⚕️ — 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Seeing Satoru Gojo among your scheduled appointments for the day was a certainty, just as the sun would rise in the morning and the moon would shine at night.

His operation was quite a while ago. It was a smooth surgery, and yet, here he was, sitting in the waiting room of the tall, fancy building with your name on the outside — you had established your very own private practice.

Despite being a surgeon on the younger side, you had accomplished what most surgeons wouldn’t dare to dream of accomplishing until their late 40s, if they could accomplish your level of success at all.

You had a wall full of framed degrees. Certificates. Awards. And it certainly wasn’t easy, from the accelerated programs and sleepless nights to being disrespected by your older male colleagues. You couldn’t count the number of times someone had mistook you for a nurse, even as you wore your white coat. There were even patients who refused your care in preference for your less-accomplished, less-skilled, male fellow doctors.

Despite the trials and tribulations, your hard work paid off, thank goodness.

That was why you groaned with annoyance upon discovering that Satoru Gojo was among your list of patients, and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

Because, damn it all, you wouldn’t ruin your remarkable career and reputation by falling for a patient . . . especially because he refused to stop being your patient.

— ⚕️—

“You again?” You stepped into the examination room, eyeing the white-haired man.

“Did you miss me?” Satoru grinned.

“You’re never gone long enough for me to miss you,” shutting the door behind you, trying your hardest to conceal your emotions, you asked, “What seems to be the problem now, Mr. Gojo?”

“Ya know,” Satoru paused. He slumped back in his seat. “I never understood why I have to tell the nurse all of my issues just to have to repeat it all again when you come in.”

“Considering how much you enjoy talking, I didn’t think you’d have a problem with that.”

“I’d rather just talk to you.” His goofy smile widened. “Anyway, I’ve been dealing with some stomach pain, and my incisions feel all sore.”

“You mean the incisions that healed up very nicely several months ago?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “And regarding your stomach pain . . . you booked an appointment with me instead of the gastroenterologist I referred you to because?”

“‘Cause you were the one who performed my surgery, unless I’m crazy and remembering stuff wrong.”

Satoru rose from his seat, heading for the examination table without you having to tell him. He knew every move you were going to make. After all — after many pointless visits because, apparently, these appointments were the closest he could get to going on a date with you — he knew the routine like the back of his hand.

You approached him. It was difficult to find the courage to look him in the eye — god, that lovesick gaze of his always made your heart skip a beat — but you stared at him sternly regardless, hoping he would take your words seriously . . . though, truly, you didn’t want him to.

“Satoru, this many follow-up appointments almost a year later aren’t-”

“What are the rules against a doctor dating a patient?”

Your eyes widened.

Your heart didn’t skip a beat. It skipped several.

You were certain it was going to give out, that you would go from being a doctor to being a patient.

He was being serious. There was no hint of playfulness behind his tone. Satoru’s love-filled gaze darted from your eyes, down to your lips, and back up to your eyes again.

“Mr. Gojo, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that just now,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back, breaking eye contact with him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He asked with false innocence.

His long finger was suddenly hooked around the belt loop of your pants. He pulled you closer, closing the distance between you both. His soft, gentle breath patted against the skin of your cheek.

“Aw, you can’t even look me in the eye, how cute,” he teased, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh my goodness, just lay down already,” you mumbled. “Let me take a look at your stomach.”

“Yes ma’am,” Satoru grinned widely. He earned yet another eye roll from you.

You had hoped that officially starting his physical exam would, perhaps, break the building tension between you both. But no.

Your skillful hands were inspecting the faint and tiny incisions along his fit body, tracing over his lower abdomen.

“Like what you see?” Satoru said. “Don’t be shy, now. You can go lower than that if you want.”

“Once again, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” You pulled your hands away, and Satoru sat up. “Your incisions look fine, of course. But I will, for the thousandth time, be referring you to a gastroenterologist to run some tests regarding your . . .” you paused, giving him a look of disbelief, “. . . stomach pain.”

“Fineee, I’ll stop coming here,” Satoru said.

“Really?” You raised your eyebrows, but not in excitement. You were skilled in speaking without revealing your true emotions through your tone — years of telling sad families about an unfortunate diagnosis or death or a loved one required that form of expertise — but right now, you couldn’t hide your sadness as you spoke.

“You almost sound disappointed, sweetheart.” Satoru smiled, pushing himself off of the examination table. He started walking towards you, and you didn’t have the courage or desire to step away. “Anyway, I pieced it together just now. If doctors can’t date their patients, then I just can’t be your patient anymore. Is that what it’ll take for me to finally be able to snatch this coat off of you?”

“Mr. Gojo-”

“Or, I could do it right now.” This time, Satoru hooked his fingers around your chin, raising your head until you had no choice but to look him in the eye as he spoke. “What’s wrong? There aren’t any cameras in here out of respect for patient privacy, right?”

“Let me tell you something,” you frowned. “I’m a very hardworking woman who follows the rules. It took a lot of blood, sweat, and tears for me to get where I am now, and I won’t . . . I can’t ruin it by . . .”

Satoru’s thumb stroked your cheek as he listened to your words. When you suddenly stopped speaking, he mumbled, “What’s the matter? I’m listening.”

Truth be told, your words trailed off into nothing because the beautiful man before you made a thousand different questions and concerns swirl around in your overworked mind.

There was no denying his sheer lust. It was written all over his face. But there was love within his gaze as well. And though you couldn’t see your own face right now, you knew you were staring back at him with the same amount of love.

“Stop coming here. If you stop being my patient, just as you said, then maybe, we can go on that date in a couple of months.”

Satoru smiled. “Deal. I’m pretty impatient, but I can wait years for you if that’ll make you more comfortable. You should know by now there’s no getting rid of me.”

“I won’t make you wait years. I can be impatient sometimes as well.” You couldn’t help but match his smile with one of your own. “Let’s give it six months.”

“Six months,” Satoru said in agreement.

“Well, if that’s everything,” you started to head towards the door, then suddenly, you halted your footsteps.

You turned around. Rising to the tips of your toes, you planted a soft, quick kiss on Satoru’s cheek. His cheeks and ears couldn’t help but become a deep shade of red as he blushed.

“Six months,” you mumbled.

Satoru’s movements were fast; his lips were on your cheek before you had a chance to turn away.

“God, you’re the cutest,” he said.

Though kissing each other on the cheek was risky — planning to date a former patient in half a year was as well — you couldn’t help but admire your quickened heart rate. There was something quite thrilling about breaking the rules every now and then.

⚕️ — 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

“Wow, I never thought I’d see little Kenny in my hospital.”

A bright smile graced your face as you stepped into the lavish room — though it was a hospital room, it seemed more suitable to view it as a hotel room with additional medical equipment.

“Well, when I decided it was time to schedule my carpal tunnel surgery, I was searching for a surgeon, and I saw your name appear. After I got over my initial surprise, I thought, why not go with my former best friend? Even if she used to be pretty clumsy during our childhood.” He gave you a smile as bright as your own. It occurred to him then, as his cheeks grew sore, that he hadn’t grinned so widely in quite some time.

“C’mere,” you approached his bed, leaning down to hug him and press a gentle kiss upon his cheek. “I’m gonna take great care of you.”

“I know you will. You always have,” the blonde-haired man whispered.

Something small, yet soft was being squished in between you both. He thought it was part of a pillow that had gotten caught in your embrace, but when you pulled away, his eyes darted down to the stuffed, light-brown teddy bear in your arms. It had a red heart in its grasp with cursive white letters that read: Get Well Soon!

“This is only one of the many, many things I plan to buy you from the gift shop,” you handed the stuffed animal to him. He took it, flipping it around in his hands.

God, he hadn’t noticed it when you walked in, so occupied with memorizing every detail of your gorgeous face and how it had changed since he last laid his eyes upon it. Even now, he couldn’t snatch his eyes away from you. The subtle smile pulling at the corners of your soft lips . . . your glistening gaze . . . even your nose was precious to him.

“Someone’s still a little sweetheart I see. Thank you,” he put the stuffed animal down next to him. “I intend to return the favor. I have a lot of missed birthdays and holidays to make up for.”

Kento’s long legs shifted underneath the blanket as he moved them to the side, making enough room for you to sit down on his bed.

“You and me both,” you paused, sitting in the spot he made for you. “I guess I can’t call you little Kenny anymore, can I? My goodness, you’re much taller than me now. When did that happen?”

Your childhood friend let out an airy, brief laugh. His hand scooped up yours. His thumb graced your skin, and he said, “I outgrew you right before we lost contact. I don’t expect you to remember, though. We were already starting to drift apart by the time that happened. But, more importantly, I think I have a more pressing question. When did you decide to become a surgeon? I’m proud of you.”

With a little hum, your eyes darted off to the side. Fighting off the bittersweet memories of growing up with Kento Nanami was an impossible task. What started out as a friendship formed in kindergarten over splitting peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sharing toys so drastically became a forgotten bond by freshman year of high school, when your closeness amounted to nothing more than waving at each other in the hallway.

No more sleepovers. No more snack sharing. No more innocent hand-holding.

From best friends to acquaintances, just like that.

And when circumstances led to your family moving to a different town quite far away, you and Nanami lost contact completely.

From acquaintances to strangers, just like that.

“We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?” Your tone was laced with nostalgic sadness.

Cold air hit your hand when Kento released it — your skin craved his warmth. But the man did not release your hand without reason, as the hand that was formerly holding yours now rested against your soft cheek. He gave it a little stroke with his thumb, then moved your head back in his direction.

He hadn’t seen your eyes in years. He’ll be damned if they dare gaze at anything other than him right now.

“Well, catching up now is as good a time as any. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Talk to me.” Kento moved his hand away from your face. Cold air returned to your skin like an unwelcomed guest. “Are you married? Have any kids? How are your relatives?”

“No, no, I’m . . . I’m much too busy to start a family. Haven’t had much time to check up on anyone else either,” You replied. Your somber demeanor vanished. A heartwarming smile reappeared, and rather playfully, you poked Kento’s chest. “But what of you, sir? How are you these days? I must say I wasn’t very pleased to see such an advanced case of carpal tunnel. You’re too damn young.”

Kento caught the hand you were jabbing him with. His large hand wrapped around yours, and he held it. Warmth.

“Well, I’m a businessman. My job is so taxing, it’s no wonder I ended up with carpal tunnel. But I make good money from it. I’m in the same boat as you, though. Unmarried. No kids.”

“Considering how handsome you turned out to be, I’m assuming it’s voluntary?”

He nodded. “Much like you, I’m just too busy.”

You couldn’t help but glance down at your locked hands. Despite the years upon years that have passed since he last felt your skin, his touch wasn’t foreign. It was all too familiar, almost as if Kento Nanami never left your life to begin with.

“I always thought you would be the person I’d end up marrying.” Your words were soft, barely above a whisper.

“So did I. Our wedding was my favorite thing to daydream about during class.” Kento brought your hand to his lips. His kiss was a gentle one, and the previous warmth that came from his touch transformed into a burning heat running through your veins. If he kept this up, this gentle love, you were certain you’d combust into flames.

“I should leave now,” you mumbled, preparing to get off of his bed, though you hadn’t yet found the courage.

Kento couldn’t help but notice how your eyes wouldn’t meet his as if they found the mopped floor below oh so interesting.

“Look at me.”

It took a while. Much longer than he would have liked. But eventually, you gave in to his demand and your eyes found his, though your glistening gaze was, once again, filled with sadness.

“I know this is the first time we’ve seen each other in a long time and the circumstances aren’t ideal, but you don’t have to mourn our past, because I don’t intend on letting you get away from me again. Do you understand me?”

Your sad eyes widened. “You’re saying-”

“I’m saying I want you back in my life, if that’s okay with you.”

You knew the serious expression on Kento’s face well. He meant every word.

“I assumed we’d go our separate ways once again after this surgery . . . that I probably wouldn’t see you again until you needed a hip replacement in your late sixties,” you couldn’t help but let a single tear fall down your cheek.

A low, brief chuckle came from Kento. He leaned forward. Reaching out, he cupped your cheek, stroking the tear away with his thumb.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Come here.” With the hand that was resting on your cheek, Kento guided your head towards his chest as he leaned back against the hospital bed. Your upper body now rested on top of him. His thumb continued to stroke your wet cheek.

“Forgive me for saying so, but as soon as you walked through that door, I knew I wanted to start daydreaming about marrying you once again.”

“Good,” you smiled. “Because I was thinking the same thing.”

“I won’t get you in trouble for holding you like this, will I?” Kento asked, though he couldn’t think of anything worse than letting you go.

“Don’t stress about it. No matter what anyone says, I run this hospital. I can do what I want. Including this.”

Suddenly, you leaned up to press a kiss on his cheek.

“But I better get going,” you said. “It’s almost time for your surgery.”

You started to rise into a sitting position, but Kento’s large hand cupped the side of your face, halting your movements.

“Wait,” he darted his soft eyes down to your lips. “It’s too soon for this, but I need to do it anyway.”

Kento’s lips met yours in a surprise kiss so loving, so passionate, it took your breath away — there was nothing left except that familiar warmth and the feeling of his lips moving against your own. You truly didn’t know if the kiss lasted five seconds or five minutes because when he pulled away, it still felt like it was much too early.

“That kiss didn’t happen too soon,” You uttered breathlessly. “I’ve waited years for that.”

You staggered as you rose to your feet. Leave it to Kento Nanami to make you go weak at the knees.

Dragging your hands across your coat and scrubs to ensure they weren’t oddly twisted or wrinkled, you said, “Now I’ve really gotta go. But I look forward to slicing into you!”

⚕️ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

“You’re awake.”

It was the voice of an angel. Had to be. But, as Toji’s blurry vision cleared as he blinked, blinked, and blinked — he made out the sterile environment devoid of color and packed to the brim with machines that were wired to his battered limbs — he realized he was in a hospital room, not the afterlife.

“Welcome back,” you smiled.

Toji felt your thumb gently stroke his forehead. Your touch was so comforting. So soothing. It calmed his initial urge to panic as a result of the massive wave of pain and confusion that hit him as soon as he opened his eyes.

“Toji, you’re alright. You were in a construction accident.” Another voice spoke up, but Toji’s eyes didn’t bother searching for the source. They were on you — the pretty, unfamiliar woman with the voice of an angel, smiling at him.

— ⚕️—

It took several days for Toji to regain the strength to move. Talking was a lost skill to him for weeks.

God, were head-to-toe injuries painful. His nurses informed him — when he could manage to stay conscious, at least — that unsafe conditions led to him falling from a dangerous height while working at a construction site. Most people would have died instantly during an accident like that. If they were lucky enough to survive the initial fall and aftermath of collapsing debris, then they more than likely would have died on the operating table.

But Toji, however, had a brilliant surgeon who operated endlessly for hours upon hours to save his life. Brilliant.

Was it you? The pretty, unfamiliar woman with the voice of an angel who smiled at him when he first awakened? Just where did you go?

You suddenly walked into Toji’s room as if his thoughts had summoned you.

Before you could speak, he asked, “You the one who saved my life?”

“I am. My surgical team and I worked very hard. I’m glad you pulled through. How are you feeling?”

“Took you long enough to come check on me again,” Toji ignored your question, speaking with a soft, tired smile. “Haven’t seen you since I woke up. Was starting to think my mind made you up.”

“Actually,” you paused, approaching the side of his hospital bed. “I came by almost every night to check on you. You were just fast asleep. You can thank our pain medication for that.”

“Hm . . .” Toji’s eyelids were growing heavy. He spoke over the beeping vital monitors and IV pumps. “Guess I owe you one for . . . saving . . .”

He was fast asleep.

You smiled down at his face, which, although bruised and bandaged, was still quite handsome.

As you walked away, you heard the black-haired man mumble in his drug-induced state, “. . . so goddamn pretty.”

—⚕️—

The following physical therapy-filled weeks were rather difficult for a man like Toji. The struggles he endured were not only physical, but mental as well.

After all, he prided himself on having such an athletic build and insane strength — the amount of pounds he could lift with ease was startling.

But for a while, he was no longer the man who could haul just about anything with very little effort. He was a man who needed assistance to stand up. To walk. And his spirit was crushed, even well after he regained those lost skills and was deemed recovered enough to be discharged.

He was rather certain that if it wasn’t for a certain angel sticking by his side throughout his two-month hospital stay, he wouldn’t have found the strength to keep going.

—⚕️—

Toji Fushiguro found himself at a local, quiet bar more often than he’d like to admit. Most times, a wave of self-hatred washed over him every single time he grabbed a seat and ordered a drink, but not today. Today, he was happy to walk into the bar, because you were there.

“Can I buy you a drink, doc?”

You looked up from your phone screen to find your former patient standing at the side of the little table you occupied.

“Toji?” You smiled. “Wow. It’s refreshing to see you outside of the hospital.”

“And without a hospital gown on, I bet,” a little smirk pulled at the vertical scar on his lips. “It’s nice to see you without that white coat on, ‘cause that means I’m no longer in that hospital, even if the coat is pretty hot on you. Who knew I’d have a thing for doctors.”

“Aren’t you straightforward?” You gave a little laugh, then nodded at the empty seat across from you. “Sit down. Join me.”

As Toji pulled out the chair opposite of you, he said, “I was kinda worried, thinkin’ I wouldn’t see you again after getting discharged.”

“Really? I figured after seeing me every day for . . . how long has it been, two months, right? I assumed you’d be sick of seeing me.” You took a sip of your water. Condensation coated the cool glass.

“Sick of the hospital, yeah, but not you,” Toji propped his elbow up on the table and rested the side of his head in his hands. “Anyway, about that drink. Get whatever you want. It’s on me.”

“Toji, you know you don’t owe me for saving your life. It’s my job.”

“I don’t care. I owe you one. But an overpriced drink wasn’t how I was gonna pay you back anyway.”

“Hm?” You raised your eyebrows. “How were you going to pay me back, then?”

“I’ve got a lot of ideas. One of them involves you comin’ home with me. Another involves a nice dinner, whichever you prefer. Though if you really wanna know what I think, I think you should pick both.”

You waited for any sort of indication that, perhaps, the handsome man was joking. But you knew Toji quite well after spending much time with him, and he never bothered with being dishonest or secretive about his feelings.

Hospital food tasted like crap? He said so. Exhaustion lingering within your eyes despite your professional smile? He pointed it out.

You gave him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief. The chair scraped against the floor as you got up to leave the table.

Toji wasn’t surprised to see you leave. He expected to be turned down, having been your former patient. Pursuing any sort of relationship probably disinterested you due to moral and ethical-

“Aren’t you coming?”

Toji turned around. You stood there patiently, having halted your footsteps a short distance away from the table.

“Huh?” He blinked. So you were interested. Another small smile couldn’t help but grace his face. “What about that drink?”

“Forget about it,” you waved him over. “I like what you came up with more.”

“Oh yeah? Which idea?” Toji asked, rising from his seat.

“Both.”

“Then let’s go, angel.” Toji grabbed ahold of your hand, guiding you towards the exit. “I hope you like Italian food. And my version of physical therapy.”

⚕️— 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

Sharp intuition and good instincts were valuable skills one needed in the medical field. As one of the most skilled surgeons in the hospital, the best of the best, according to your peers — and, well, your low mortality rate — your skill set was rather exceptional.

There was, however, a drawback to having good instincts. It was the impending doom you couldn’t shake when your gut told you that something was off.

Though your incredibly long shift had come to an end, you hadn’t yet left the hospital. After all, today, your surgeries were all brief and complication-free. The ER wasn’t too chaotic. Even your coffee tasted extra pleasant today.

Things were going well. Too well.

Your time working as a surgeon had taught you one thing: a peaceful day working in a hospital was a bad sign.

And those good instincts of yours? They told you not to leave just yet.

Many nurses darted their eyes at you curiously, silently questioning why you hadn’t yet run out of the building once your shift was over. Free time was all too rare for a surgeon, so why, just why, were you hanging around in the ER, leaning against the counter of the nurses’ station?

You were taking a tentative sip of your beverage when a car arrived outside of the ER’s automatic sliding seethrough doors.

A man stepped out, not wasting time with trivial matters such as shutting his car door, and he swung open another car door. You couldn’t see what he was doing exactly due to the distance. Not until he stepped into the ER with an unconscious, blood-covered girl in his arms.

“Sir?” You called out.

The dark-haired man didn’t respond. He was in a state of shock.

You and your medical team rushed to find a gurney, ready to assess the girl in his arms, but he wasn't ready to let go of her just yet.

You gave him a sympathetic, but urgent look. “Sir, you need to let us help her. Can you tell us what happened?”

No response.

The man himself was bleeding from his head.

“Sir,” you tried yet again, speaking softly. He didn’t look at you until you touched the bloody hand he had hooked around the young girl’s shoulder. “I promise I will try my best to help her. I need you to trust me.”

He blinked a few times as if coming out of a daze. He placed the girl on the gurney.

— ⚕️—

It was a car accident. The man, who was named Suguru Geto, sat in the waiting room for hours, refusing medical attention for his own injuries. The young girl he carried into the ER was one of his adopted daughters.

Operating on her with the information a nurse passed on to you in mind gave you the strength you needed to push through your exhaustion — to save a young girl on the brink of death.

“I need you to stay strong for me, Mimiko,” you mumbled against your surgical mask, putting down one surgical tool and grabbing another — your scalpel. “Your dad’s waiting for you, sweet girl.”

Though the girl was unconscious, you continued to speak to her throughout the operation.

You couldn’t help it — perhaps believing it mattered on a subconscious or even spiritual level.

When the surgery came to an end, you gave Suguru an update, informing him that Mimiko was stable for now and that he could visit her soon.

“Thank you.” A shaky, relieved breath escaped from between his lips, and though he was happy to hear the news, he started to cry. Tears were streaming down his face, mixing with the blood on his skin — he couldn’t help but break down over the situation, now that it was partially over.

You wasted no time in grabbing a seat next to Suguru.

Wrapping your arms around him, you held the stranger, rubbing his back soothingly.

“It’s alright,” you whispered kindly.

Suguru pulled away from you after a couple of minutes. You gave him a smile. However, it didn’t take long for the corners of your lips to dip into a frown.

“Mr. Geto, your forehead.” You rose from your seat. “You need stitches. Please let me help.”

It took a moment, but he eventually nodded and got up as well.

You were well within your rights to go home, to pass off this mundane suturing opportunity to someone with less responsibility within the hospital, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You were going to stick with this family throughout their entire healing process.

For a while, you treated Suguru’s wound in silence — beyond the general bustling hospital noise.

“You seem tired. Am I keeping you here past your shift?” Suguru suddenly spoke up.

You were silent for a moment, uncertain of how to respond.

“I’m just glad I was here, Mr. Geto.”

“Anyone who saves my daughter’s life can call me Suguru.” He stared down at the dried blood on his hands. “While you were still in surgery, a nurse gave me an update. She told me how hard you were working, and that you were speaking to Mimiko as if she was your own child.”

“I was. I like to talk to all my patients during surgery. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Not at all, why would it? I appreciate it. You seem very caring.” Suguru would have smiled if he had the energy.

“Tired and caring, hm?” You grinned softly, finishing the last stitch.

“I’m sure I will come up with more adjectives in due time.”

Your smile widened, and even Suguru managed to give a tiny grin.

— ⚕️—

Suguru Geto approached you in the hospital hallway during your lunch break a few weeks later, on the day his dear daughter would get discharged. The man who you came to know after seeing him and his family on nearly a daily basis tapped your shoulder.

“Hm?” You turned around, and your eyes darted down to a packaged baked good in Suguru’s hands.

“What’s this?” You asked.

“Consider it a personal thank you for taking such great care of my daughter.” Suguru held out the tiny box, and you took the pastry.

“Oh, Mr. Geto, You didn’t need to do this for me. I was just doing my job,” you grinned.

“Your job was to save her life. To talk with her about her hobbies and interests . . . to comfort her . . . that was going above and beyond.” Suguru stared at you with sincerity and respect. “She’s been rambling on and on about you non-stop. I know you’re a busy person, but she said she’d still like to see you even after getting discharged, should you ever have the freetime.”

“Of course. She’s a sweet girl — both your girls are,” looking down at the sweet treat in your hands, you said, “and this looks amazing. You’re too kind, Suguru!”

“Believe me, I’m not normally a kind person. But you deserve every bit of kindness I might be able to spare.”

“A single father to two girls he adopted, who bakes pastries for other people? Sure seems like you’re pretty kind.”

Suguru stepped closer. He leaned down a bit, as far as he could without raising any suspicion from nearby medical staff and guests, and he whispered into your ear, “You just don’t know me very well. But I was thinking about how much I’d like to change that.”

“How so?” You whispered back.

Suddenly, Suguru stepped away. He grabbed your wrist, leading you towards the on-call room he fully intended on sneaking you both into.

You could hardly put the pastry down and lock the door before his lips were on yours hungrily. His hands were busy pulling off your white coat, your top, and undoing the drawstrings of your scrub pants.

His mouth made its way down to your neck. He sucked and kissed at your skin, all the while his hand snaked their way into your underwear.

“Remember when I started to cry, and you held me?” He asked softly, his breath patting against your skin.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I remember.”

“I think I should return the favor,” he paused, his fingers finding your clit while his other hand held you against his bigger frame. “Let me hold you while you cum.”

🩺 — @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @thequeenofcurses @he11okitty-mari @luvvmae @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @levisfavoriteteashop @insomniacbehaivour @preciousamethyst @kxmorrx @iwanttohitmyself @ellaumbrella1 @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @dolphin1135 @ioveartfilm @filhadaanarquia @blackdxggr @jaegergirl @gunslxtz @he11okitty-mari @deadrevenge @koikohib

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kooyabooya · 3 months ago

Text

PURITIES, IMPURITIES

yunjin & kazuha x m reader

31k words

Alright - this is kind of one of those cliché, freeze-frame moments from those sitcoms that puts you right in the middle of the action, or- when you wake up with a pounding headache of hangover after having an apocalyptic night out and somehow everything you’re trying to remember is nothing but a complete blank.

Yunjin sells the part right away, groggily after waking up saying: “God, can you believe what the hell happened last night?”

Sadly, you don’t recall it from the get go.

Kazuha’s body curling the pillow serves as the first piece of information at the scene of the crime: your bed.

“She’s gonna give us an earful of this when she's up,” you say. “We’d be lucky if she’s in a good mood by then.”

“There’s nothing to freak out about,” and Yunjin’s reassurance gives you a warming glimmer of hope. “I’ll tell you this. She came to me, first.”

“Are we talking back then or earlier?”

Yunjin slaps your arm, laughing. She’s aware that the inquiry was entirely rhetorical, a minor press to her buttons. Her thumb rubs Kazuha’s temple, moving a few strands of messy hair away from her face. Bright rays of sunlight breaking through the drapes and the evidence is riddled all over her: the marks, the dry streaks of cum at her legs, sweat glistening across her skin. Your mental checklist is filling up by the minute.

“To be fair,” and it’s a realization to be made: “She did ask for this.”

“Yes," Concurs Yunjin. "Yes she did.”

–

Let’s summarize it like this: post-grad life is absolutely no joke.

Your realization of this has been deeply humbling.

And you’re reminded, again - from one of your friends who’s on the same boat as you: taking things day by day is always the way to go, don’t ever forget that.

It sounds easier said than done.

The lovely chime of the lock popping out from its hole plays a nice tune of pomp and circumstance, your humble abode of trinkets and gadgets and items greeting you a ‘welcome home!’ after a long day of work. It’s worth noting: you’re not actually working - not yet, but the job search in the pool has been quite dry.

You sigh, get your shoes off at the doorstep, and toss your jacket on the nearby chair you lay your eyes on.

When you finally hobble over to the couch, Yunjin appears right on cue; half hair up, half down, fresh out of the shower and in one of your shirts. You know her schedule by heart: the day was Thursday, which meant that she was out for a pickleball run with Somi and Giselle who convinced her to give the sport a try. She had some prior experience with tennis, so most of the skills easily transferred over. Talk about being multi-talented.

“Hey,” she greets, tapping your thigh as a signal to give her some space on the seat. “Long day today?

“Yeah,” you say, rubbing the sleepiness off your face and graze your thumb on the top of Yunjin’s thigh. “Nothing much to report- oh. I managed to get a callback from that one place I told you about last week.”

“The start up Sian’s working in? Any good news?” Her voice lights up in excitement, brows elevated and head at an angle like a golden retriever. “I thought that place was only fifth in your options.”

“It was, but figured that I’d work backwards on the list from bottom to top.”

Yunjin smirks, nails to your knuckles, tic bouncing off her tongue, agreeing. “What an innovator.”

“A different angle,” you laugh, “Worth giving it a try.”

“We all have to start somewhere,” she tells you, voice light-hearted and calming. “Besides, life isn’t a linear graph that one follows. Everybody has their ups and downs they don’t want to admit.”

She does have a point, so you nod.

“Don’t be discouraged if there’s no results right away,” she adds on, lifting her hand up for you to momentarily give you a handshake as if she was your brother or something, curling your fingers with hers before ending it off with the pull down, gently slapping your cheek to force a smile out of you. Yunjin’s got all the remedies you can ask to boost your mood up, no point arguing otherwise. “You also said that you didn’t like the one other place second on your list.”

“That cafe would be nice. Can finally cross off how to make the perfect matcha drink, too,” you reply, sitting up and sliding your arm across her waist, bringing her closer.

“Mhm,” she hums, smiling the more she leans into your touch. If there was anything that you know very well to do: is how easily it is for her to let these things slide - more so like you can literally sweep her off her feet and suck the life out of her, without having the guilt lingering whatsoever. She’s so agonizingly pretty in your eyes and the fact she can say some of the coolest things in her perspective about life because she realizes that it cuts both ways. You could listen to her talk smart all day, until she plays into the dirty ditz where it gets closer to one familiar end far faster than you would like to admit. “I’ll say this compliment, then: you already have the best cup of coffee in town,” Yunjin says, a smirk with a chin lifted up and your tongue pressing the inner side of your lip. Her gaze goes hazy, and the half-lidded eyes coming from you really sends the message either way. “I actually like the whole package you’re selling. It’s sweet.”

“You think of me as sweet? I guess so too.”

“That’s not the only thing sweet about you,” says Yunjin, palming your crotch and scratches the fabric, her breath at your teeth. “You’re dangerous.”

“Jen, what are you trying,” you chuckle, slow and low; the tone like you’re wanting to find something without putting too much force into suspicion. “Need I remind you that you were almost late to practice earlier?”

As Yunjin bites her lip at the lean in, only to be interrupted by the same chime at the door. A second later, the sound gets replaced by another girl’s huff, keys jangling and boots clattering on the floor before making their way further into the apartment. Both of you look towards her direction out of curiosity.

“Back already, Zuha?” Yunjin asks, leaning out more to the point she’s almost perpendicular to the seat of the couch, “How’d the hair appointment go?”

“Good!” Kazuha beams, shrugging off her handbag and straightening her denim jacket outshined by her new color of hair - she mentioned it in the group chat between you three with a picture of her head wrapped up in tinfoil, so the input paid off. “Thought it would take longer, but I really like this shade much more than the blonde I had a year ago.”

“Oh god,” you breathe, “I can’t stress how much I hated the blonde shade back then.”

Kazuha’s brows crinkle, lips inward. She doesn’t want to admit it herself, but she did say her blonde hair wasn’t the right choice. “Dickhead. I thought I told you to take that opinion outside.”

“I’m not going to apologize for saying what’s right.”

“Guess I don’t have to ask you what you think about my hair and go directly to Yunjin instead.”

“Ash blonde is more of your style, Kazuha,” you admit, Yunjin also agreeing with a little nod of her own. “If you were to ask me, I’d prefer this one over the blonde you had from last year.”

“He does have a valid reason,” Yunjin adds, palm to your chest when she stands up from the couch with a water bottle in her hand from the table. Tosses it towards Kazuha who catches it without an issue. “You staying in or stopping by tonight?”

Kazuha chugs half the bottle down, smacks her lips soon after. “Got an hour to chill, told Saku and Chaewon we’re eating out tonight. Since Sakura’s boytoy leaves tomorrow to-”

“Study abroad,” you input, “I remember she was talking to me about him a few weeks ago.”

“So no more dick for me or her,” Kazuha says.

“You’re serious,” you say back. “Dude.”

Kazuha twists her face, hands wrapped tighter around the plastic. “Dude. It is serious. A total loss for the home team.”

“He wasn’t even your boyfriend to begin with.” Yunjin butts in, almost ad-libbed.

“That’s what makes it fun!”

“This girl can’t be helped,” Yunjin, shifting her attention to the cutting board of chicken and vegetables. “Sucks for her to be put out of commission all because she can’t get her pussy filled up this weekend.”

“I heard that, bitch.” Kazuha yells deep in the hallway. “Why don’t you tell Chaewon while you’re at it too with her boyfriend.”

You laugh at the annoyance Kazuha has in her voice. Yunjin rolls her eyes and wheels around in the kitchen. The pair part ways into doing their own activities around the place and that’s really the end of that. There’s a sense of comfort you find yourself in within these walls. When the world outside you doesn’t swing the way you want it to, it’s always nice to lay back and relax - save the problems of today to tomorrow. You lace your fingers together, put them over your waist and cross your ankles up to the armrest, closing your eyes.

“I’ll be here,” you’re saying aloud, a usual announcement during these hours: “Wake me up when the food’s ready, or if Kazuha leaves, whichever happens to come first.”

–

Among the never ending loop of emails, interviews, and outings at different food spots to brush up the resume, you’re getting sick and tired of the daily activities as a whole. You’re doubtful, like a running inside joke you’re not in on.

You tell Yunjin about the struggles, to which she tells you: “there’s no such thing as mistakes in a plan that’s meant for you, babe.” God bless her, the literary ability this woman has reminds you again as to why she wanted to be an english teacher or writer. Hell, philosophy might’ve been her forte, but it’s another debate topic to save for later.

Kazuha’s outlook is a bit more abrasive; more real and a little less innocent, doesn’t mince her words at all. “Look, I know we give much shit between us at times,” she blurts out on a random afternoon, “but I think those people who do the hiring don’t know what you’re capable of yet, and it angers me about them not caring about you.”

“Didn’t think you’d have the heart to say that to my face.”

Kazuha squints, confused. Yunjin looks up from her book, eavesdropping.

“If we’re being honest,” Kazuha continues with a wave of her hand. “this is basically like you getting me through college apps back in senior year, me having the breakdowns on a nightly basis because you shat on my essays being complete trash-”

“Somewhat relevant, yes. Still isn’t as close to what I feel.”

Ever since graduation (and even before then), the pair have gotten used to each other in no time flat. Yunjin eventually had to end the lease on her apartment at the beginning of summer and it was a no brainer when you popped the question of moving in. They both have similar tastes, similar styles - the list goes on and on. But hey: two of the hottest girls on campus are living with you and every time someone brings it up you just give them a shrug.

(The non-verbal message presents itself like it’s no big deal.

Or one quiet way of answering: ‘fuck you, stay out of my business’.)

Yujin closes her book and treats herself to the cup of tea on the table. “It’s pretty much a similar experience across the board, no need to overcomplicate it.”

You check your phone with the same kind of energy in receiving a text. Quick skim here, no luck. “Whoopty-fucking-do, still no message back from Minnie about the software position.”

“No stress babe, it’s Friday night after all.”

“I’d text her personally to see if there’s any hold up, rush the process a bit.” Kazuha suggests.

You pull your lip. “I could, but what do you want me to do? It’s not my fault that the job market and economy as a whole is in shambles, toying with the idea of teasing me like it’s some ‘will they, won’t they’ kind of situation. But seriously-” and here your hands are in your face in a small sign of frustration, “it’s a bit discouraging on the latter when I could be spending my time on-”

“Pressure isn’t a good look on you,” Kazuha tuts, snorting. She reclines back on the seat, sliding her heels on the floor, “I’m sure someone will swoop you on their ship sooner or later. The strategy here is just sit and wait, taking into account the number of places you dropped by today and they can’t look at the CV the moment you hand it to them. Ever heard the saying: “Rome wasn’t built in a day?”

“Classic for the kids.” Yunjin recites, hands bracing her chin. “Patience is always the everlasting virtue.”

“Both of you are dead last in lecturing me about practicing a positive mindset.”

Here they laugh in midst of deliberation. Because Yunjin’s shaking her head while Kazuha’s turning her attention away to something that isn’t on you. The heat starts to rise on your face in embarrassment. Yunjin’s gaze lowers on Kazuha as she crosses her arms, fingers tapping along the opposite limb, sharing the same look before she looks over to you once again. Silence fills the table for a moment until Kazuha’s phone vibrates on the table, prompting her to swipe it off the surface and check the notifications in mere milliseconds.

Kazuha’s eyes briskly shimmers from the screen, face lighting up once she’s finished reading. “Oh shit,” she breathes. “I forgot I was going out with Sakura tonight.”

“Where to this time?”

“Eunchae’s,” she answers, briskly standing up and typing her life away. “Just a quick outing, doughnut run, nothing too big. Yunjin, you still coming?”

“Can’t.” Yunjin yawns. “Tired and plus I had a movie date planned with this one,” she says with a head bob towards you.

“Ew- gross,” Kazuha mutters. You look at her dumbfounded while Yunjin smirks. “Whatever, enjoy your impromptu movie date.”

“Prayers up for the dick that’s about to cross paths with you,” you remark over your shoulder. “Whoever’s the lucky one to bend you over tonight, I’ll drink to that too.”

Kazuha smacks your head then walks away. “I’ll take that same fucking bottle when I come back and smash it over your head.”

“Ouch.” Yunjin sighs, putting on her glasses and stretching. “I’ve been telling you it’s a lost cause for her.”

“Hey. That’s her problem, not mine.”

–

Kazuha’s problems, whether you like it or not, usually end up becoming yours.

Not that it’s her fault or anything. The girl just spills out one word and it turns into a never ending ramble of sentences.

Fifteen minutes have passed since dinner, for the ones who are curious - fifteen minutes of valuable time lost in Kazuha’s eyes because she can’t seem to get her life together when it comes to proper efficiency. You and Yunjin are bundled up on the couch, watching some dating series on netflix that’s been all the rage across social media. The cast upon preliminary assessment are all attractive - some with a stronger bias than others, but you deduced Yunjin’s opinion was much more important than what’s happening on screen.

Self-insertion is a matter of conceptual perspective, is what she’s trying to tell you.

“All I’m saying is-” she groans after your pitiful laugh, “we put ourselves in that scenario, and I guarantee the ratings would go up.”

“Pretty high pedestal you’re putting me there,” you comment.

Yunjin slaps your shoulder and gawks at you, playfully offended. “Oh please, if you didn’t take me to paradise, how else would you make your case compared to the other good looking guys?”

“Don’t need to, since I’ve already got you.”

She coos at the remark, laughing at you playing it off in the coolest way imaginable. It’s cringy, but who the fuck cares? The fact that she agrees with the statement only solidifies the pull you have on her. A win-win situation.

“What about Kazuha?” Yunjin follows up shortly after. “I think she’d be a great fit there.”

“If I were one of the guys on that show and she was one of the contestants, I’d try everything to date her in a heartbeat,” you tell her.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Really what?” Kazuha walks in a second after your reply, with a zip-up to her frame and peeping over to see what was on the screen. “I heard my name down the hallway.”

“Oh nothing, Zu,” answers Yunjin, waving her hand to shoo her off. “We were just saying that you’d be a great addition to the dating show cast. I can’t lie, some of the guys in this are super hot.”

“Ahem,” you cough.

“Shut up,” Yunjin says. “You were literally just telling me that you’d date Kazuha if you had the chance.”

“Never in a million years,” you hear Kazuha say, disgusted. “That can of worms stays shut for a reason.”

“A fun topic to talk about,” you’re laughing out loud again, shaking your head. Kazuha squints her eyes and her lips are spread wide in annoyance. A common expression she does whenever she can’t comprehend the bullshit coming out of your mouth at times - for most occasions is all sarcasm and nothing more. “You may not like it, but who’s living with who here, hm?”

“I’ll kick your ass again if I have to,” Kazuha chuckles - a tilt of her head to keep it subtle, but you know well she intends that.

you say

“Can’t beat my ass if you haven’t gone out yet,” you retort, pursing your lips. Kazuha glances at the clock and realizes what time it was, cursing under her breath. She shoves a hand in her pocket and bolts for the door, throwing up a peace sign to you and Yunjin, letting you both know she’s finally on her way out.

“Bye Zuha, have fun!” Yunjin yells in a light tone.

“Don’t burn the place down until I get back, but the noise complaints are fine,” Kazuha says, slotting herself through the door the next second, into the cold.

–

“That girl with the dark blonde hair looks like Kazuha,” Yunjin tells you, pointing at the screen. She’s right. The one on the show appears to be at the right height, similar body build, not to mention the abs highlighted from her swimsuit. “I’m telling you, it’s a carbon copy.”

It’s been a little over an hour since Kazuha left, maybe more - you haven’t been keeping track, really. The episodes and runtimes are starting to mesh together to the point where Yunjin’s starting to get other ideas with that mischievous hand of hers, working at your shorts.

“She’s hella popular with the others - so you might be right, considering Kazuha’s the mix of an extroverted introvert,” you say, paying no attention to the slip of Yunjin’s hand into your boxers, fingers snaking the length. She can feel you getting hard.

You’re on the same wavelength as Yunjin: hand trailing up her thigh, thumb and index pinching the waistband of her panties beneath the blanket before curling your fingers across the fabric, hearing a hitched breath.

“There’s no way they don’t hook up while recording, right? Like- the fuckable scales are off the charts,” she assesses, squirming her hips to the fingers circling over her clothed clit. She cocks her head as you pull your lips inward, trying to see the transmitting message in her eyes.

You press a little further in at the opening, feel the dampness spread across. Oh yeah, she’s soaking them.

“We wouldn’t know, per se, since the whole point of inferno is all about exclusivity. Getting to know the person without any outside distractions, that kind of thing,” you conclude. You’re paying more attention to your hand than the show.

“Them having sex on camera would be so normal,” Yunjin says, a word slips out but her mouth forms to something else when you slip a finger inside without a warning. “So normal.”

“You’d be right.”

“Definitely,” she breathes and it’s heavy. This segment has been slowly building in the background; the part where few words are said and relied more on the action: Yunjin’s thumb presses down on the head of your cock and grips around it, languidly stroking; your breathing stops for a moment, bobbing the air down your throat, coming up with a proper response, ending with nothing. You can feel your lower body tense and relax with the ticks of the clock, an indicator for what’s about to happen if you keep this up. You don’t fight it - nor want to, since you’re both well aware that the teasing is a better way to eat up the time with your bodies rather than everything else.

It’s only natural to do things like these. You’d always make time for being horny.

Before you know it, your shorts are on the floor. The same could be said with her panties, tossed away to a corner in the room for you to ask yourself “well how the fuck did that get there?” later when the damage has been done. Her shirt’s being held up by her teeth and you’re taking all the sights of her upper half uncovered past her shirt. Nothing but porcelain skin and amber nipples waiting to be marked up and bitten. Your hips get put in place and your mouth is taken over by Yunjin’s, feeling the glide of her folds across your cock and the slickness of her cunt on your fingers, smearing her thigh.

Her breath is warm, just like her face; mouth hung open when she settles her pussy on your shaft. She finds joy in the loose and unraveling expressions: all wide-eyed and nowhere else to go. Your head falls back once the grip registers in the nerves.

All in the rise and fall of her hips. She’s gyrating them as a test like it’s a given - which it is. She loves it when you’re raring to go, dicking her hips down or fucking herself on your cock. It’s all the same.

“Babe,” she whispers into your ear. The blanket uncovering your lower halves, barren skin now out to the open air. “I want it.”

Fuck, she could meet you halfway with the wetness of her pussy and already be there. You hold her hips and waist steady and she begins to ride.

–

Here is where the story - or rather, the ordeal - truly unravels. As Anakin Skywalker famously declares on the glowing screen before the darkened room: ‘This is where the fun begins.’

You’re woken up to the incessant buzzing of your phone on the nightstand, blinded by the glare of the television, drowsy as fuck, and slightly sweating. You also don’t even bother looking at the time because your lock screen is basically a flashbang of your selfie with Yunjin even with the caller ID blurring it. It’s from an unknown number (it isn’t but you can barely see as it is) and even if you’re entertaining the idea of not answering it, you do anyway.

“Hello?” Your voice graveled and deep, clearly tired. “Who is this?”

“Oh, you’re Yunjin’s boyfriend, right?” The girl on the other end asks. Her voice is surprisingly masculine. You would’ve mistaken her for a guy in that case. The line goes quiet for a few seconds, afraid that she possibly called the wrong number. “You sound like Yunjin’s boyfriend. By the way, it’s Eunchae.”

Crap, you remember that Kazuha was with her for tonight’s activities. Wondering what the hell happened this time for her to call instead of Sakura as the usual standby.

“We have a situation here,” she continues, mouth ticked with a hint of annoyance. “Kazuha’s hammered and Sakura’s getting her business on with some guy out in the alleyway. Told me to call you if she didn’t come back in five minutes. And it’s been more than five minutes.”

“Shit, I didn’t think it’d be that serious.”

“The fuck were you expecting?”

“I dunno- just a simple doughnut dine and dash? Neither of them told me about a party.”

“That’s because the two of them tagged along with the guy they met there and it’s been downhill ever since. I wanna go home.”

Can’t help but feel bad for Eunchae, since you were in her shoes before.

“Mind hurrying it up a bit? I can hear Sakura’s moaning behind me and it’s looking like she won’t be going home tonight.”

You scratch the back of your head, raking off the sleepiness before rubbing your eyes. “Alright, be there in a few. Where do you want to meet?”

“I’ll send my location, my house isn’t far from here.”

–

In a slight reiteration, you’ve become used to Kazuha’s antics.

Kazuha brings in Sakura and her plus one late at night, you know how that goes; Kazuha can’t decide which top goes well with her loose pants for the grocery run; Kazuha procrastinates on some of the chores around the apartment and leaves you alone to pick up her slack. She smacks your ass for fun and runs away into her room - goes to show the years of friendship you have between you two. When you’re up late studying for midterms or finals, the noise cancelling headphones serve well to block out the sounds of Kazuha touching herself -or, the fact that you’re putting her pile of laundry on her bed and it’s riddled with the assortment of playboy magazines, dirty clothes, and the vibrator (which you don’t question) next to it. She’s an agent of chaos. A perfect anthesis to your very livelihood.

It’s certainly no exception when you mentally add alcohol into the mix.

“Do I want to know how she ended up like this?” You ask Eunchae upon arriving, kneeling down to a slumped Kazuha against the brickwall on the sidewalk - hand to the back of her head to get a better look of her drunk gaze: one eye open and giggling like an idiot, her words slurring.

“She literally grabbed the first beer handed to her when we got here,” Eunchae replies, showing you a picture of the moments before disaster. “I thought she was a heavy weight.”

“Depends on what they were passing out in that party.” You move Kazuha’s head around to ensure nothing happened to her. So far: face blushed with pink, a lazy eye, messy hair and sweaty skin. But most importantly: no marks. “Did Saki tell you to stick with her while at the party?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Well that’s the good news,” you’re saying to yourself. Kazuha might be a pain in your ass, but she is your longtime friend, after all. Like anyone else, you’d go the extra mile to keep an eye out for her.

You then glance back at Eunchae, her shadow casted by the glare of the overhanging streetlight, arms crossed with the light tap of her foot. Her thumb subconsciously swipes the phone screen as you both look at Kazuha when she snorts, playfully hitting your arm.

“She’ll be fine,” you softly say, hoisting Kazuha’s arms over your shoulders and adjusting her on your back. “Given the fact that Sakura’s getting her fuck-fix for the weekend, I’ll leave that be.”

“Mhm, girl’s a piece of work,” Eunchae concurs, lashes fluttering in the dim lighting, air to the left side of her cheek. “And here I thought we were getting our box and heading back home but-” she then motions a hand to Kazuha murmuring behind you. “-this shit unfolded and, yeah.”

“The regular stuff,” you admit, because it really is. You twitch your head the opposite way from the house party. “My car’s this way, I’ll drop you off on the way back.”

–

(Dealing with a drunk Kazuha in the car was simple math:

Make sure she’s comfy, for one. Recline the seat all the way back since her feet will most likely end up on the dashboard for another. And almost beating every red light at the intersections so that she doesn’t get cranky with all the stops and turns for the third note.

A long list and every contingency written in the book: you know her that well.)

–

3:00 in the morning is usually classified as ‘primetime hours’ for Kazuha.

Except for tonight.

You’re running through the standard procedure: get out the car, walk up the stairs, hook a right, second door past the balcony.

Left shoulder, right shoulder, right foot up, then left; fix Kazuha’s weight on your backside so you don’t throw your back out early, lean a little too forward she’ll fall right off, look back when she’s secure.

For a girl like her to be 5’7” and 105 pounds, it doesn’t add everything up in your head. She’s humming a song - the lyrics incoherent, tone consistent - then all of a sudden she yelps in surprise. Keep her quiet - a fifth noise complaint from the neighbors in the span of three days was not on the agenda for this week.

She smacks your head, half awake. “Hey, how did I get home? Put me down.” Kazuha pushes herself off, landing on her feet with a stumble, prompting you to hover your hand to her waist so that she doesn’t lose balance. It’s 3 in the fucking morning and Kazuha’s drunk out of her goddamn mind. “Wait, when did you get here?”

“I drove us,” you tell her, moving her arm over your shoulder and walking her towards the door. “Looks like you had fun tonight.”

“I did,” Kazuha hiccups, blinking slowly. “Super fun time.” Her gaze freezes. You can’t tell if she’s grumpy or plain tired (trick question: it’s the second answer); she then closes her eyes with that neat, flat eye smile of hers to where you see the slightest dimple on her face. You could imagine the stars shimmering over her head. Kazuha has so many spirit animals that you could pair her up with, but if you had to choose one-

“Ehe-” she giggles, staggering her right foot before readjusting her balance, doing the same laugh again.

(She would definitely be a samoyed.)

So you stifle a laugh and close your mouth, opening the door.

You’re leading the way back into the apartment while Kazuha tries to walk on her own. She fails. Her forearm bracing the doorway while you shift your body back around out of concern. Her body lurches forward like she just went twelve rounds in a boxing ring, fatigued. She straightens herself up with a hand on top of her head, chin tilted higher when she leans forward, about to fall. Like any other caring friend would do in this situation: you catch her.

“Easy, easy.” You hold yourself steady, accepting the weight. Or- when you’re stumbling too and shuffle your feet for proper placement. “You said you didn’t drink that much, tell me the truth.”

Kazuha hums, mindlessly bobbing her head in the form of a yes.

Her gaze is sleepy. Both of your hands are at her shoulders, keeping her upright. Kazuha’s zip-up slips off her shoulder, exposing her collarbone, covering the tubetop she was wearing with a set of underwear you haven’t seen before. Probably new, you assume. “Kazuha, stand up straight for me, please?”

“Mmkay,” she slurs.

“Think you can walk back to your room by yourself?”

“Nope.” Kazuha beams with her head to the left.

You sigh. Pat the side of her face to wake her up a bit. “Guess you can’t be helped.” A hand’s extended like a peace offering. “C’mere, I’ll take you there right now.”

“If you take good care, I’ll let you fuck me.”

Oh, hell no-

You weren’t prepared for this kind of Kazuha at all. There was no plan. Not even a proper response in your head could cover for it.

Kazuha being drunk was always the marker for attention. Put her with the right people (like Sakura, Chaewon, even fucking Yunjin), and it’s guaranteed to be a never ending stream of laughs throughout the day and into the night. Not one second goes by when you’re out with friends to look over the shoulder and see the most questionable acts coming from her that twists the creases across your face and forces you to bear no mind to what’s happening behind you; stay focused now, ask questions later. When you do bring up the topic, it gets brushed over and eventually ignored. You have so many ‘why’s’ as it is, but you find it best to save it for the morning.

“Kazuha, you’re clapped. There’s no way you just asked me to-”

“But I’ll be good for you. C’mon, don’t you think I should repay you in some way?”

“You getting sleep right now will be good for me. Now let’s go, I’m tired as it is-”

Her arms wrap around your shoulder and middle lazily. You can’t afford to handle another minute of this nonsense and just get your ass back to bed. That alone should be a right in itself, but this girl won’t fucking let go.

Next thing you know, her lips graze the bottom of your neck before resting on your collarbone. Your name is heard into your shirt, and you huff in annoyance. Plus, your voices could be a little louder than usual since Yunjin’s a heavy sleeper. At this point, you’ve had enough: so you slip your fingers into Kazuha’s hair and yank her head back to see her face wince at the sudden pain. There’s no shame when you see her biting her lip, half-lidded eyes gazing with no care of the lust behind them. “Just help me to my room, I promise not to give you trouble. I owe you. Need to thank,” she mumbles, licking her lips. “I’ll be a good girl.”

“Christ- Kazuha, we’re not doing this.” But talking to her while she’s intoxicated isn’t going to do you any good.

Now you carry on, dragging her closer to the room, ignoring the assault of mindless kisses she’s placing all over your neck. She ups the ante when her hand palms your sweats, trying to play it off in standing upright.

“Jesus- Kazuha,” you angrily swear, similar to all the times she pissed you off.

“What? You don’t like that?” Kazuha asks, lips parted when she rests her fingers at your crotch.

“Fucks sake, no.”

“Aw come onnnn,’ she whines, trilling the last bit of the words. “Yunjin always has her fun, why can’t I?”

“Because I said no.”

“You won’t even let me suck you off? What if I just wanna stay here and sit so I can do that?”

You can’t stand her being like this.

“I always hear you and Yunjin getting it on in your room.” She leans on the wall next to the open door, curling her hand around your arm while the other doesn’t move. “How would it feel if I called you daddy again for once?”

The scrunch in your nose shuts down the thought immediately. You’re sensible enough to not entertain the idea, despite how tempting it is. No. You know better. You know damn well what that shit does to you even if it slapped you in the face. No one casually spills the word ‘daddy’ like it’s nothing and expect no reaction. Her mind’s swimming in alcohol. You’re starting to wonder what the hell she drank at that party.

“Again- God. Zuha.” You flicker your eyes into the void of the hallway. The nickname only comes up at times where she’s really getting on your nerves. “For the last time, you are getting your ass to bed and we’ll talk about it in the morning.” Kazuha winces at the sharp tone, realizing she’s overstepped her bounds. Bless the last bits of common sense she has left; you don’t know where you’d be if she didn’t use her brain cells for something else that required her to think.

“Ugh, fine,” she tells you, and the tamped down ego in your head is satisfied in victory, stepping into her room. You hold her at the arms and help slip out of her jacket, tossing it on her chair as she does her part in sitting on the bed, waiting for you to lie her down. “I was hoping that you could fuck me.”

“In your dreams,” you rebut firmly.

Right before you walk away, Kazuha grabs your wrist. A few wisps of her hair fall over her forehead. “Wait,” she says, and that should’ve been the red flag to swipe your hand away from the imposing threat - a dangerous risk you’re not willing to take. You clench your teeth and swallow hard, with the slightest bit of pull in your arm. “At least-”

You actually don’t move forward, but backward.

“At least touch me, just this once.” Before you know what she’s doing, it’s already too late. Her hand guides yours to her thigh, working the curve of your thumb and index up her waist. Part of you is impressed at the amount of work she put in maintaining a chiseled frame, the muscle very much present the more your fingers press down on the skin. “For a little bit.”

(Should’ve left the room when you had the chance.)

Your eyes continue to gaze and drift all over Kazuha’s body, hand to her chest with the thumb curling below her breast. Her humming rumbles low, safe. It hadn’t been that long since she was out in the cold, but she’s surprisingly warm.

She makes sure every single part of your hand feels it, flipping it over to the knuckles past her hips, fingertips making contact to the patterned lace of her panties - the fabric clearly damp when she starts to shift her hips at your touch. It’s all gone wrong - a mess, one really fucked up mess - her lower half continues to move with both of her legs pressing your hand in, holding you tight at her sensitive clit, the huffs rising and falling along with her chest the more she used your fingers to get herself off.

Drunk Kazuha was easy to deal with. Sleepy drunk Kazuha was a cakewalk in caring for. But never in your years of knowing her where she would be like this. Let alone the fact you’re in a relationship with her best friend and you’re staring further and further away from the door towards freedom.

The reality check will be cashed in once it’s all over.

You say her name, which spills out in a stutter; your state of mind incomprehensible to the stacked hands working the heat and slick between Kazuha’s legs, head unable to stay still and lolling side to side, elbows digging into the mattress.

How does she not feel embarrassed with what she’s doing? Sarcasm applied: how are you not ashamed of this?

It hits you right then and there: in the retracted hand of yours, eliciting another small tantrum of Kazuha kicking and waving her arms like a kid. You take a second to pause, remember how you got here in the first place and why, clouded with anger and confusion, hindering a sizable amount of time to reflect. Soon, you found it best to retreat from the situation and into the kitchen, grab a glass of water and wash your hands to calm yourself.

(Even as your thumb grazes the glass in a period of contemplating, the whole ordeal can't be swallowed down that easily, as much as you want it to. Not when you’re achingly hard in your sweatpants and that serves a few more strings of curses out your mouth.)

One last thing that you could do before heading back to your room was set the small bottle of aspirin at the side of her bed for when she wakes up. Maybe convince her to use that body pillow of hers to mimic the warmth; you nod your head at the thought, it could work and it should. It’s been a few minutes since her mini breakdown and you assume that she’d be asleep by now.

You couldn’t wait until the morning to tease her about being a horny drunk - worry about being her personal punching bag later.

Apparently the teasing would have to wait. Because your personal ideal about Kazuha was about to be shifted again.

The last thing you would’ve expected was for her to be sound asleep. Instead, she’s got her tube top up to her upper chest, one delicate hand furiously rubbing sloppy circles into her clit, the other gripping into the mattress as she’s on her knees, body pillow between her legs, grinding into the cushions. Her pants are at the foot of the bed, panties loosely around her right ankle. She’s an insufferable cocktease.

It’s something straight out of your wet dreams, from a time when everything revolved around Kazuha. You’re sucked into an inescapable vacuum of thoughts you’d never think of again (with things like those, it’s all a lie, they always are). You can’t stop peering through the crack in the door, opening it wider to watch Kazuha grab a handful of her tit and ride her own hand. She’s too into it to pay attention to you, and you’re fighting every urge in the fingers sliding down your thigh, unable to move.

She only seemed to have one thing on her lips, the only thing plaguing her intoxicated mind. The tube top at her pits and the gush of her cunt soaking up the last pillowcase, but you’re seeing it clear as day.

You can’t help but think how good your name sounds on her lips.

Kazuha then gropes both of her tits, pinching both buds of her nipples to keep her from stopping, finally figuring out that she can continue without the support, falling back on the bed, unfolding her legs like butterfly wings to reveal how wet she was. The small webbing of her slick coating her index and middle fingers, leaving more spots on the bed sheets beneath her.

There’s a deathly, fucked up part of you in the back of your mind: that wants to give in to the temptation. Oh, you could give Kazuha the same treatment as Yunjin when you have her in a blithering wreck, fucking her full as she creams on your cock, grab her by the hair and press her to the closest thing nearby to reatalite on the slightly abusive attitude. Get your tongue all over her cunt like it’s the last meal you’d ever have on your knees and have her cumming and hands full of every single part of her body until she’s had enough (which will most likely be never in this case). The need for more is an absolute certainty, a greater purpose. You'll consciously be happier in being rough, be a pain in her ass (quite literally, sooner than you think), and completely forget about the resistance or consequences.

You’re holding yourself back for now, placing the water and two tablets of aspirin on the dresser, lean your shoulder to the door frame - inhaling and exhaling quietly to not make her realize you were still in the room.

She doesn’t stop her fingers from dipping inside her leaking slit, wagging it across her folds with every passing shudder of her breathing, sinking it back in soon two digits at a time. Debauched, impure, sinful; you could go through the list of your lexicon to describe this present moment and still won’t give an explanation as to why you can’t look away. You watch as her eyes wander, flickering when she looks down and plop her head back on the pillow when the finger curl rubs at a sensitive spot.

And it’s almost instinctual, close to second nature: your hand tugging your dick out, paying close attention to how the slenderness of her hand widely spreading her pussy folds. How Kazuha wished her own hand was a dildo or a vibrator or your cock - they won’t stretch in the way she imagines it.

The third finger she inserted was a good try, you’ll give her that. You can’t help but be enamored.

Suddenly, she’s switching out names. First, your name and then Yunjin’s. That’s a new piece of information you’ll save for later. Ignoring the question of how weird because this was already fucking insane as it is; you’re slowly pumping your shaft in time with her upward thrusts, grip your shaft to mimic the pressure and emulate how the skin would be coated in her soaking wetness, listening closely to the squelching getting louder and louder it seems.

Kazuha’s legs are flush against the mattress, as far as she could get them. She’s flexible enough to do it, opening up more room for her other hand to get a fill of her desperate cunt. A sweet view. You’re lucky to have witnessed it in real time.

Shit, you’re silently cursing to yourself. Wishing that you would’ve abstained in committing such a wicked act.

But you keep pumping, delusion plaguing your mind. You’re lost in the sights, the sounds, her face wobbling to more rapturous, tucking her hand and tilting her hips like those other guys have done to her, the heat tugging them tightly - God, she doesn’t let up with the lovely moaning.

“Mmm, yes, right there-”

Seeing Kazuha like this feels undeserved.

“Please, please-”

“What is it. Kazuha? Want some help there?” You ask mindlessly, slipping out of your sweats some more to open up your legs.

And when she says your name again: “I need you here with me.”

“I’m not far,” you answer, gaze crestfallen and wistful.

You lower your guard when the rush of euphoria begins to spread within. The sensation of jerking yourself had the capacity to wear you out just how you wanted. Because of this, when you eventually look back up, you can see the glint of watered eyes watch across from you - in between the valley of her breasts, toned legs and reddened knees. “Look at you, so handsome,” she says, hand circling her clit faster. Harder. Fingers increasing in pace to match your strokes rather than the other way around.

“Fuck, you look so good-” you grunt with buckling knees. A familiar, aching tension in your stomach, the pin rising to the peak in your balls. The wonders of having a pretty best friend.

“Yeah?” she murmurs. “Like this? My pussy out wide open for you? Why don’t you walk back here and plug it up?”

“No need. You’re doing good, so fucking good. I’ll keep myself here- holy shit.”

“Would feel-” Kazuha wheezes, a relieving proposition. “Even better, with you.” She says it like it’s some forbidden truth.

In an alternate reality, she’d be right.

“Think so?” Jesus fucking christ, you’ve lost it. In the current affair, this is all that mattered. “You’d prefer my dick to split your guts up instead of your fingers?”

“God, yes.”

“Want me to take care of that pretty little cunt of yours?”

Kazuha sighs once more, confirming the question for you. It didn’t take much to work her up in general; if you didn’t have the remaining ounces of common sense, you could’ve dropped your pants right at the door and get even more dirty with the arousal pouring relentlessly out of her stuffed hole. It wouldn’t be a bad idea right? Cleaning up her mess with your hands, your mouth, gurgle down the endless stream of her pussy where there’d be multiple threads dripping down her legs. Fucking hell, you really could if you wanted to.

Though you don’t move a single muscle besides your hand.

“C’mon, more. Just a little more,” she groans, breath hitching every other second. You can feel the air get tighter, the vibrations in your throat tremoring along with every tense fiber of muscle. Coming down to a fine point, overtaking you.

You’re just as shameless as her.

The piercing wail of your name off her lips sounds broken, eyes clenched shut when you finally fall off that peak. You cum all over your fingers, spurting and smearing across the skin - fuck, it comes in a panic when some of it spills on the hardwood, but you could care less since it blends in well with the color. How you managed to remain standing from your high was a mystery, knees bending forward while the twitching continued to pass.

Kazuha tenses her body from the erratic movement of her chest, struggling to calm down from her orgasm. Through your sated, lidded eyes, you watch her frame relax, head falling over to the side, hand plopping over to the edge like someone shot a bullet through her on the spot.

“Kazuha.” You huff, hoping for a response. “Kazuha?”

Yep, she’s knocked out.

You take a minute or two to return to your senses, looking back at Kazuha’s body to ensure she was fast asleep. Staring at the gentle shift of her arm cuddling the pillow she just rode on, you found it best to let her deal with the clean up later in the morning when she’s fully sobered up.

A really big ‘if’ for later: her remembering everything she did from last night. You’re swearing that it doesn’t happen - hoping you don’t breathe a word of what you’ve seen or did.

(It would be a huge problem on your hands, and an even worse one if it becomes hers.)

Fuck, she would be mortified.

–

“You look like shit,” Yunjin tells you later that morning, chin perched up and eyes squinted. “Didn’t you and Kazuha come back together 30 minutes later?”

“Something like that,” you sigh, giving up the effort in holding back your yawn. “Slow mornings are always harder than the actual day.”

“Hangovers are never kind.”

You shrug. “Some of us can handle it better than others.”

Right on cue, you and Yunjin glance over to see a tired Kazuha sitting alone on one of the chairs near the kitchen. Her hoodie is up and both hands are on her face to hide the subtle cough. She looks like she could sleep for another eight hours after breakfast, and it most definitely could happen. The plate in front of her is cleaned off: holding the knife and fork, coated with syrup and clearly ran through.

Yunjin gives you a look, probably along the lines of: ‘are you sure nothing bad happened to her?’

You purse your lips and open the fridge, with a cold water bottle now in your hand.

From then on it’s a silent exchange: Yunjin walking over to Kazuha and caressing the back of her head, Kazuha looking and nodding to let her know she’s alright before going on with the rest of her unproductive day.

As for your part: you slide the bottle over to her with two more tablets of aspirin for her to take. For insurance, you insist. She’s someone you know very well who can’t function properly unless there’s some sort of responsible figure who can facilitate and keep an eye on her condition.

It isn’t like her to be awfully quiet at times, so you fill in that role of the opposite as needed.

“How’s your head?” You ask, voice lowered that you don’t scare the poor girl. “Gotta say, I’m jealous you got better sleep than me for once.”

Kazuha leans back on the chair with her eyes trained on you. The occasional beep of the smoke detector above goes on for a few seconds when you see the tip of her tongue peek out and runs it along her teeth, contemplating.

“Better,” she says. Her first words of the day. A small win. “Thank you.”

You nod in approval, poking her forehead for some fun. “Great. No going out for you today. Not until you’re back to normal. You know the rules.”

The gentle clatter of the silverware along the plate compliments the soft scuffle of your feet along the floor. You’re not thinking too much about what happened last night, drawing up the conclusions that it was a one-time thing. Anything beyond that reason would bring in plausible deniability.

But you carry on with the simple house chore with Kazuha unknowingly staring from behind: biting her lip.

–

Ironic about the unproductive day, you do everything but that.

Emails, papers, evaluations, your endless editing of the resume, the Spoitfy window with the classical music playlist, all of it eats up the time. With the occasional step out to grab some food or a cup of water - or maybe Yunjin piggybacking you as an attempt to get you away from the desk-

“I know you big baby,” you wheeze, feeling Yunjin’s nose against the nape of your neck, “Just let me finish one more thing and then we can do something. Promise.”

“You said that last time,” she groans, corralling her arms tighter on your shoulders, toes barely touching the floor, “Maybe I should change the password to your desktop so you don’t go to it first thing in the morning. It’s a dangerous addiction.”

“It’s called a routine,” you rebuke.

“I know your password,” argues Yunjin.

“Might have to change it again.”

She gets off when you settle back in the office chair, her arms still wrapped and pressing her lips on to your cheek, making you giggle at the sudden assault of touches. To her defense, they’re pretty effective - her way of swaying you to lose your concentration. You don’t think twice when she forces you to put down the phone before lunch or dinner, or when you’re out with friends and she thinks it would be a great idea to send you nudes knowing very well that it’s not meant to be seen publicly. Her hair starts to pool over your front, smelling like apple rose and aloe. “So you’re saying it’s not ‘huhyun108’? Are you serious?” And she’s got you all figured out - the many angles of pressure points to slowly give in towards. Picking and choosing her battles carefully, but you don’t go down from a fight that easily.

“Gonna change it now, actually,” you say, fast tapping on the keyboard. “Find it best for you not to look.”

Yunjin cackles as you’re pushing her face away, pulling the chair along with you.

–

Yunjin doesn’t have to do too much: all it takes is one breath and a few sly words and she gets what she wants.

She’s adamant with what’s hers: lipstick mark on your neck? That’s Yunjin. Her white scrunchie on deck at your wrist for when she can’t deal with her hair? Also Yunjin - supplying to the demand was always her kind of thing.

It’s midweek, at the point in the day where things get stagnant and there isn’t anything of interest to note, the usual grace period where the thought of doing nothing is considered the best option. Yunjin keeps watching that same netflix series, dissatisfied with how the current season played out. To compensate: she rewatches the second season for the sixth time and her key point was the fact the two most popular contestants really hit it off, but never got together.

That wasn’t the main concern, however.

“She hasn’t been out of her room since yesterday,” Yunjin pouts, long legs stacked on top of yours and restraining. “I’m getting a little worried.”

“I saw her go to the kitchen and back earlier,” you inform, tossing popcorn into your mouth. “She did have that pilates session around lunch. You know Zuha, and her cardio.”

“That door’s been shut a little too long,” she mumbles, not entirely ruling out your observation. “I know that there’s the unspoken rule for privacy, but I’m genuinely curious what the girl’s been up to. She seems a bit-”

“Closed off?” You fill in, completing the train of thought. “You may be right with that.”

“Mmm,” Yunjin agrees.

“Wait it out some more, then we’ll see what happens.”

–

(You wonder a bit too much, and get caught off guard as a consequence.

You haven’t moved from the couch, with Yunjin fast asleep at your side. The position so comfortable, you could honestly pass out here and wake up eons later - a tempting idea to entertain, and a plausible action to consider.

Kazuha appears from the hallway, rubbing the tiredness off from her three hour nap. A bit bizarre to nap past 8 PM, but that’s her thing. Her shirt is so baggy that it covers some of her thighs, toes spread on the floor before she continues to make headway to the fridge. Hair frizzled in messy waves and moving gently in every step.

So you initiate first, “Hey,” and you layer that with a lean back of the head of the couch so she can see you better in the dim light. “Everything good?”

Kazuha twists her body towards your voice, gaze stoic and quiet, fingers twisting the bottle cap open and fiddling it around. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.”

“Good to know,” and your words come casual. Unbothered. As if you heard enough to carry on and leave her be, aware that she’s able to interact again. “Happy to hear your voice, like alive- or something.”

“You sound worried,” says Kazuha, cringing. “Ew, don’t do that. It’s weird.”

She doesn’t know you can hear her snort from the couch.

“But you are okay, right?” You ask again. Kazuha’s backside twisting once more to face you, blinking carefully. Her expression shifts to something more misty, unclear. All she gives is a nod and hum. Doesn’t say anything after.

At least she tells you that much.)

–

Okay, it’s probably bad that you’re keeping an eye on Kazuha - reserving a spot in your head to revisit that night over and over. Maybe it means something, or it doesn’t.

It really, really shouldn’t. Like at all. But the recurring thought fills your mind at some point between the passing days.

“I’m heading out now.” Kazuha says to you sweeping through the kitchen, bag in hand and behind Yunjin. “Won’t be back until later probably.”

“Where are you headed this time?” Yunjin leans over, resting her head.

“Sakura called me to be her muse for her fashion portfolio. Said I fit the profile with the outfits she has in mind. Girl can crochet, but clothes? She has a really good fucking talent for them. I can see her go places.”

“That’s our Saki,” Yunjin muses, hand up for Kazuha to acknowledge before making her way around the kitchen island, causing you to turn about face. She isn’t going to confront you about that (for God’s sake, you can’t stop thinking about it anyway), but rather stare you down because it’s the usual thing with her.

It’s a little intimidating that she’s almost your height, with a body well maintained she could go twelve rounds if she wanted. Yunjin watches as Kazuha squints her eyes - works through the fridge for another cold bottle with her gaze trained on you. You and her exchange eyebrow expressions and read into the message through your eyes, Kazuha tilting her chin then breaking eye contact as you twist the other cheek. Next thing you know, her hand smacks your ass.

“The fuck was that for?” You groan, clearly offended. “You’re the one who wanted the face-off.”

“For being a dickhead,” Kazuha says with no color in her voice. “Also, thanks for saving me at the party while Sakura was getting railed outside. I owe you one.”

“Amazing how you say things like that so casually,” you muse, cocking your head. “You’re welcome, I suppose.”

Kazuha then flashes a look back with her hands now in the pocket of her hoodie. You can’t help but glance over to the defined frame of her face, the slope of her nose, her lack of makeup knowing very well that she’ll get a touch up from Sakura before the lookbook photoshoot. She’s painting a false picture with those baggy clothes she wears on a daily basis, but you and Yunjin are waiting to see the photos once they’re done.

“Yunjin,” she says.

“Hm?” Yunjin hums with food in her mouth.

“Did I ever tell you about his decent looking face?” Kazuha concludes, tilting her head side to side for better angles. “Still a dickhead, though.”

“Ha. Thanks.”

She points her lips at you, a quirk of hers that she made as her habit. Her hand goes up in lieu of a goodbye and slides past the wall.

–

“It’s hilarious because,” Yunjin catches herself mid snort, hand hiding her mouth, “The way they say Jurassic World is so funny to me. And the guy repeats it as ‘Jorassic Wurold’ like- the pronunciation is slightly off when he asks her about the movie.”

You test the wording with your own mouth but emphasize on the syllables, trying to emulate what she observed from watching the other day. It distracts you from the assortment of ingredients spread out on the cutting table, falling into Yunjin’s shenanigans was always the daily driver no matter what the mood was on the hour.

Midway through slicing some meats, you’re still practicing the wording on your lips. “Y’know, english is not everyone’s strong suit,” you tell her, portions set aside for some vegetables, leaning the other way to get a better view of your fingers, rolled up and not in the blade’s way, “gotta commend him keeping the conversation going. That takes effort.”

Yunjin tilts the cup into her face, nodding in agreement; she’s got her legs crossed off the counter, feet pointed up when you glance back to see a hinted eyebrow. Bare face and long lashes fluttering - a light blush on her cheeks as she leans back and puts the bottom of the beverage upwards.

She smacks her lips soon after, licking her teeth. “He was really into her, you saw it too.”

The metal blade clacks against the wood. “Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me. You know who.”

“Dex?”

“Dex,” she repeats, pointing the empty cup in your direction.

“I saw it happening, don’t worry,” you say, attention drawn back to the chopped up greens now being placed into a bowl. “Part of me was convinced that they would be together when they met from the get-go.”

For a quick fill-in: it hasn’t been that long since Kazuha went out, a little over thirty to forty-five minutes at most. In that time, you and Yunjin managed to get through a third of a series she picked at random before she started to get more touchy with you. Like the good boyfriend you are - ready at every beck and call, you oblige. Yunjin swung both of her legs onto the seat of the couch, easing into the slow graze of your hands on her thigh, hand cupping her hips and raising the arch in her back when she felt the hard press of your hips against hers. She hates it when it comes to the teasing, but she’s actually a hypocrite on the fact that she does it all the time when you have your legs spread either sitting or laying down; when your brains are fucked into oblivion while she’s on top, bouncing on your balls without a care in the world for damage control. But you broke her brain a little when you grinded into her clothed cunt for fifteen minutes until one of your guys’ stomachs grumbled which put everything on hold for now.

(There’s always a red herring to be said. For this one in particular, you coined it as: “gotta have that fuel for later, especially if we’re going for more than two rounds.”)

“Thought so too,” says Yunjin, projecting her own insights when she lets herself down from the polished marble, setting her bearings headway towards you, tending to the ingredients.

A pot gets put on top of the stove behind you, along with the chopped veggies. “Didn’t he also say that it was a bit late for him to pursue her?” You ask, twisting the dial until the clicking sets the burner to life, gaze locked on Yunjin who stops an inch away. “Something about not being a reliability because of what she’s doing for her career?”

“Somewhere along those lines, the gap wasn’t too bad either, five years if I recall,” Yunjin supplies, unsure.

“She was a neuro major, Yunjin.”

“So?”

“Dex has his own thing going too, doesn't he?”

“If you really think about it, I thought it could’ve worked between the two. Yes, he was into her. He was also very amazed with what she was doing with her life. Not to mention the fact that these two clicked the moment he entered the competition as the wild card compared to the other guys. Oh, and that bombshell reveal that she was attending Harvard? Literally gagged the hosts when it first happened. Don’t forget that she was attracted to him for a minute before nothing eventually came to be? I remember showing you the video of those two after the season aired and you can still see the chemistry in them. Some people say that it wouldn’t work out since the scenario is long-distance, but the mother approved of the guy for crying out loud-” You grin and shake your head. Yunjin’s left completely baffled because of it. “-okay, I’m still a firm believer that those two are endgame. That’s my point. I have evidence and a solid reason to back it up. Go ahead, try and test me.”

“No, I hear you.” You reel her in for a hug while her hands are on her hips. “If it were me, I would’ve thought long and hard about making a big commitment like that.”

Yunjin sighs, hands sliding up your back. “I know. I really liked their vibe together.”

Your hands get full of her ass, beneath the fabric of her shirt, laying prints in the mix of skin and threads. Yunjin puts her arms around your neck loosely, stacked and hanging with the slightest pull from her elbows. It’s in the most innocent of pretense, the suggestion heavily implied without the use of words at all. She leans up while you tilt down, meeting in the middle for that overdue relapse of addiction: the lips. She sighs, teeth claiming your mouth as her own, pulling the lovely part of flesh that makes you want to hear those familiar octaves as her body crumbles from the greediness and weight of your touch.

Every kiss feels like a swan song; the desire of never letting go, press your face deeper into hers, leave a mark on the refreshed canvas waiting to be painted in inspiration and curated for no one else in the world to see. You’re aware that she’s willing to incite change, create something new, get in the right mindset of a familiar avenue in your head where there’s nothing but desperation. It’s in how her fingers rake through your hair, weave down your waist, to your hips, close to the spot where she wants to bring you out the most.

Think of it as her picking up where she left off on the couch. You could’ve done it right then and there, but you didn’t.

“Should’ve thought long and hard about earlier, right?” Yunjin teases, half-drunk already with her slack lips.

“There’s a reason why I set you on the counter in the first place,” you huff, pushing her body past the stove, pinning her against the drawer. “Because of this. I know you, Yunjin.” You then lift her back up to the spot where she started, height difference elevated by a mere few inches. The top of her forehead rests on yours.

“Such a buzzkill,” she concedes, pouting her heart away like it doesn’t do anything to you. Arms holding you hostage as you try to break free from her grasp. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some kisses around here?”

“Not a lot,” you offer.

“Says the person who’s trying to get rid of me.” She doubles down, ankles to your backside and limits the movement. Her exhale is satirical, hoping you’ll dish out the punishment.

“Your stomach thinks otherwise.” You declare. Pushing her legs apart and retreating. You look over to the kitchen for anything within reach, and settle for an apple. You further the distance between Yunjin to grab it, toss it over as she catches it effortlessly - bites down the fruit in defeat, satiating the cravings. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

(She would much rather have your lips again or even your cock. The fire’s already started, and the water begins to boil.)

The space feels so far between you two, yet so small. Yunjin holds the apple with her teeth, watches you round the corner of the counter - sees your eyes dart to an open box, the bundle of pasta in the plastic, a knife- something to divert your attention for the time being while you’re forming a strategy in your head - a game plan as to how you’ll deal with her tonight.

You see: you think you know Yunjin, every part of her body and mind, inside and out.

She debunks the theory right out of the gate. In a million ways you can’t wrap your head around.

All she does is straighten her posture, spreads her legs across the glossy wood, and lifts up the fabric past her hips.

There’s nothing fucking underneath. Just sweet, smooth thighs and her pretty pink glistening pussy lips.

It gets your mind racing in confusion:

“Since when did you-” you’re taken aback, torn from being half-shocked and not-so surprised, also doubling down on the fact she definitely had panties on beneath that shirt. “Didn’t you have something there just a few minutes ago?”

Yunjin is a master of her art, the trickery in the highest rank imaginable. You envy her intellect at times - her charms, the ways that she can make you speechless just by being herself. This very girl within the walls of your home she claimed as hers, who managed to seep into the nooks of your brain, poisoning you from within until you can’t go for a second longer without wanting to see her gorgeous face, hear her voice; feel her pull you down back to earth while also sending you straight to heaven. None of it really makes sense with her, nor is supposed to. You could go through multiple lifetimes in the existence of the universe and she’ll still find a way to be in all of them.

Though, she doesn’t give you any chance of solitude with your thoughts. She raises her right hand behind her back, middle and ring finger holding the nylon as her admission of guilt.

It earns her a small shake of your head, disappointed and impressed in the same moment.

“Sleight of hand, mister,” she tuts, victorious. Her thumb then grazes against the nylon before falling into its fated purgatory of the floor below. She catches you zoning out, doing two loud clicks of her tongue to keep your eyes on the prize. “My eyes are up here, by the way.”

“Where did you think I was looking?”

“Probably at something that matters.”

“And that is?”

“Fuck if I know- oh wait, I do know. You’re just not doing anything about it.”

“Want me to proclaim it out loud?” You inquire, sardonically - as if you were willing to play along with her little game of pragmatics, read into the lines of a script and catch the nuances of a hidden message past the sentences. “State the obvious since the naivety is starting to become unbearable for you?”

“I never said that,” Yunjin rebukes. Hand sliding down to her legs - those dainty fingers having their own fun.

And you begin your endeavor back to her. One graciously little step at a time.

Your ears tick at the sudden hitch of breath, muffled by the apple blocking her mouth. It’s on purpose. God help her. She curls her fingertips at the first dip inside her cunt the more you glide over the floor. The weight of your feet becomes less heavier and lighter in every move. Yunjin’s head bumps the cabinet, hips tensing at the rush of her fingers sliding across her folds. She won’t fuck herself like this. No- she would prefer to have you deal the actual blows to her body when you’ve finally decided enough is enough. We’re getting there, don’t worry. Just. A little. Push.

She finally lets the apple go from her mouth, off to where it’ll most likely be disregarded into the sink or the trash. You can’t stop the constant twitching your hands are doing; so while the pathway is clear, you take into account of the bubbling pot next to you, putting a lid on to make the gurgling much more muted, zero in on the vibrations rumbling in Yunjin’s throat, focus on the rise of her chest.

Her head drops and to the side, the pull of fabric molding to her figure. Emphasizing on the curves of her waist, those mounds, the present appearance of her hard nipples. The implications clear as day in the form of a seductive summoning.

But you start slowly: a hand to her knee, then the other. Anticipation is killing you both.

Landfall.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You sigh, looking down at the sight of Yunjin touching herself, thick air being expelled from your lungs, wiping your inner self clean before repurposing to acclimate the need of getting dirty again.

Yunjin pulls a lazy grin, beautifully - and leans back while her hips slips forward. Her grip guides your wrists over her skin, shirt hiked up past her waist and into her hips by the second. “You don’t have to say or do if you want to.” She offers, but that’s the setup. “Just wisely biding your time.”

Not much of it has changed, the way you willingly sink down to your knees. You’re romantic about it - deserves a smirk for the appreciation. You glance up to her toffee shaded eyes, fingers rotating to hook firm on the peak of her thighs, extend your arms up high like she’s some sacred treasure, proffering. “Darling,” and the singular word sets the rest of the testament into place, the burgeoning intention of her demise at your hands. You think back to a week ago: where she found herself in the familiar pecking order, back on the linoleum with her elbow as faulty support, splitting her open and feel her body go limp when you made her cum like she suggested. Your mouth freezes with a gasp when you look closely at her seeping slit, heart stopped as you examine in awe. “I’ll have all the time in the world,” you mumble - or what’s close, honestly - into the plush surface of her thighs, brush your lips down a familiar path you know very well. “But you, gotta slowly show me you deserve it.”

Her breath hitches again, hesitating. Nerves seizing muscle right where they are.

“At this rate we’ll be here all night,” she hums, eyes torn from gazing down and spacing out to something in the distance. “Not that I mind, of course, but-” she then nibbles on her lip at the feeling of yours on her legs, deluded and washed over with lust to forget about everything else, “dinner’s still on the cards, yes?”

“Pick up that apple. You eat while I eat, how bout that?” You propose the solution. One which Yunjin can’t ignore.

She reaches for the apple and stares into the yellow crater, taking another bite. Cheeks full of fruity bits. “I could get used to this,” her jaw trembling and breath spilling out in a shudder. “Wouldn’t you rather hear-”

Her neck loosens at the swipe of your tongue over her folds, apple tossed off to the side one more likely never to be eaten again. She leaks out a little more slick for you to clean up, and it’s delightful. Yunjin fancies the idea of scooting her hips forward, thighs hanging out and barely her ass on the counter, providing you more space to work with when your arms hook around the swell of her ass and pull her closer, hand quick to the crease of her knee to put her heel on your collarbone and takes her fingers into your hair, spread one side of her folds and dip your tongue in some more, consuming the warmth down your throat and eat her out alive.

“Honey,” you proclaim with an arch to your eyebrow, breathless, “You’re fucking leaking.”

Yunjin pulls this devilish grin, yanks your head back a little further back for you to look up, face twisted with madness. Staring deep into your soul, insatiable. “Your turn to eat, baby.”

Very few people can play your game, but Yunjin was a whirlwind full of surprises. Each one more shocking than the last.

“What’s wrong? Speechless?” she asks, but doesn’t give you a second to respond when she reels your head back in.

So you put your mouth back what’s rightfully yours: press your tongue into her aching cunt and save the words for later.

You hear her wince, picturing the pained expression in the creased eyebrows, eyes closed shut, jaw hung low. She grinds your face deeper, much deeper to the point where she’s needy enough to feel the light graze of your teeth.

You slide your fingers into her, unfazed when her knees close your head in, giving you no chance to breathe. Her pants increase in pace, falling apart just a few inches above you. The sounds are absolutely wonderful, blessing you with the harmonious repertoire of moaning spilling out of her mouth - lapping up the wetness at the curl of your finger, cleaning up the salty sweetness of her arousal, slick spread across skin and the sensitive response of her clawing hand into your hair.

Yunjin’s hair starts to pool over the front of her face, the sight alone is a delight in itself. The ripped collar showing more of her pale shoulder, handfuls of the shirt now undone as her other hand joins the fray on your head, body clenching and relaxing - unsure on which choice is the right one. You and her both listen in to the soft licks and wet smacks of skin and folds, hear her giggle in relief until your nose brushes up against her clit, throbbing core given a quick second of grace before you dive back in and don’t spare a chance for her to breathe. She asked for this, and you expect her to handle it as best she can. Until she’s whimpering and desperate and begging to be more useful than just your mouth and hands. Till she has to say the very words herself in what she wants, while her frame trembles delicately.

More, more. The boiling pot next to you starts to bubble past the cover, droplets of water hitting the grill and sizzling. You push your tongue in deeper, get the gloss over your lips, pull her folds apart wider and hit the same spot where it kills her over and over, notice the curl of her toes into your shirt, dig her heel deep into the threads. Yunjin bites down her teeth, hand to her breast and gripping tightly. The bubbles start to lift the lid, popping.

“Can you - be - even more - god, holy fuck-” she spits, words stuttering as her hips slide out over the edge, prompting you to hold her high, drop your jaw even more, kiss and suck the untouched areas and spread her legs. She gasps. “Baby,” she laughs even louder, slapping her palm down on the countertop, “God, I can’t believe-”

She rucks her hips upward, mimicking a thrust. Your head fades out the rest of the outside noise.

“-you, of all people-” And a moan pierces your ears, the sound heavenly. Yunjin’s hand palms the back of your head as you start to alternate an up and down motion. Her high imminent, in the curl of your knuckle and lick of your tongue pushing her closer to that pedestal. You push and pull, let the grip of her fingers guide you to the spots where she needs it. Her way of life: the taste of her; warm and addicting. “Fuck, s-shit, there- there! Right there-”

You open your mouth even more, drinking her mess until she has you drowning in it. Her swollen cunt’s quivering. You can’t help yourself but smile.

“Need your mouth, your tongue- your- fuck-”

You’re happily swimming.

It’s even better when her chest is puffed up, back arched. At a loss for words and just straight up gone. You hold her down as she’s shaking and suck her pussy for your own benefit - devouring her relentlessly, voice broken to a shriek as her juices gush around your tongue and fingers, groaning lowly while you carry on licking the mix of plush-soaked skin, feel the lingering effects of her orgasm leave her body with a harsh pull of her clit on your lips.

She’s trying everything to calm down, head lightly tapping the cabinet behind her. Clawed fingers releasing their grasp as you help yourself up, legs loosely wrapped around yours and posture reduced to a slouch. “Hate you, by the way. I hate you the way that you are.” She tells you, arms barely placed on your shoulders, slipping. “Why do you have to be so good at being a douche?”

“Don’t follow your point,” you dart back with a sigh. Height restored and hands back to where they started: on her knees; you cock your head to the right, get a closer look at Yunjin’s messy hair, rumpled shirt, thighs glistening and pink-

She smacks the side of your neck, earning a pitiful laugh. You’re aware that she loves these kinds of treatments: the kind of treatment where you want her to tenderly run her hand down your face, whisper in your ear of all the things she wants you to do, sliding deep into her cunt and let the heat consume you, wanting - you’ve got get a grip, seriously. She has your head spiraling and somehow you always come out on top of it; the usual bouts where the victor has already been decided. “One day, you’ll see what I mean.”

“I have a hard time understanding you and Kazuha as it is,” mouth agape, bearing no mind to the act she’s trying to pull. Unpredictability was one of Yunjin’s strong suits and that was no surprise: peeling her shirt off over her shoulders and lifting the veil hiding the endless curves of her body - the slutty little waist, long thighs, her breasts-

“Maybe I can help you with that,” she offers, lacking judgement. Her hand slips underneath your sweats, fingers taking hold of your cock, confirming her suspicions. Your mouths meet once again, sloppily, you giving leeway after eating out her cunt and in return she has you twitching. “Goodness me,” she mutters into the warmth of your mouth, tempted, rubbing that effect on you. “I bet you’re just dying to stick this inside of me already.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Or what-” she grins lazily.

You grasp the skin a little bit tightly as your other hand cups her cunt, the heel of your palm digging into her clit.

“-fuck, that’s what you meant,” her voice diminishing with lidded eyes.

You then quickly take into account the small funnel of air blowing from the cover; the whirr of the vent above coming to life.

Yunjin scoots herself over the counter, sees you tug your cock out of pants, lip to teeth as it gently touches her skin. It’s all part of the pecking order, how things build up high to eventually fall - second nature, muscle memory, all the same.

She’s got her arms and legs around you, inching her hips forward to speed up the process, hopeful in you wrecking her body as always: “You know, not talking isn’t gonna get you everywhere if you don’t do it,” she goes on, no care for your fidgeting hands rubbing up and down her thighs.

“What the hell is this, a silent treatment?” she asks again, impatience starting to get to her. “C’mon, say something.”

You serve her anything but that, slicking your fingers with her cum and tap the pads into her skin, gently feeling her sensitive clit to make her lose her train of thought. She’s incessant, but it’s rare for her to be less on the offensive in pressing you for once, so you’ll take full advantage of it.

“What do you want me to say? I’ve already told you about my observations,” you answer, digits sliding in her cunt and the girl just nods. She’ll notice but still talk out of her ass, since she loves the thrill. Her accompanying grin along with the lip bite and wink sells the whole image, leans you in with the shirt wrapped around your neck, pulling. The small twinge of romance attached.

The shirt then crumples on the floor when she lets go.

“That I’m fucking leaking? You sucked me clean, I can barely feel my legs.”

“Right,” you laugh, working her face some more until her hands go languid.

Her look goes curt, dismissive. Lashes fluttering in every blink because that’s the second best thing she has in her bag of tricks, aware of the double-edgedness it ensues. She inhales sharply, quick, sudden, bracing the tip of your cock sliding across her folds. “How long has it been since you last fucked me? Yesterday? Two days ago? Finally having your fun since I sucked you off last time, hm?”

“I don’t need to answer that,” you rebuke. “There’s no point to it.” Is the everlasting conclusion.

She cocks her head to the left. Elbow holding her up in the best way she can, arching her back again, your cock in position at her awaiting entrance, cup your fingers into her hip. “Don’t blame me for killing you this time.”

Her face steadies, frozen. Then: the lines of her face warble, mouth dropping. Cunt inviting your tip pressing in.

“Like I ever would,” she scoffs, right hand to the back of your neck, clinging. “This is what I wanted, remember?”

(The way that she’s spread, heel hooking to your knee, she’s stripped and defenseless against you. It’s the guilty pleasure you have as her pussy accommodates you, all wet and inviting that it won’t be a struggle to fit in one seamless push. Regardless: that part alone makes sense.)

“Question is,” you murmur during the break of eye contact, staring lower at the view of your cock finally slips inside and see the quick contraction of her stomach - like she was ready to take a punch to the gut - glancing back up and watch her eyelids flutter at the feeling. “You can’t do anything in this situation, can you?” This girl just came in your mouth a few minutes ago but she’s takes you in with no problem: filling every inch of you in a beautifully fucked up missing piece that she’s constantly deprived of every time. You dig your fingers deep into the skin, stop halfway, then continue to wrench out every inch of her walls.

“God,” Yunjin grits, breath seething in the gaps of her teeth, brows furrowed. “Go to- fuck-”

She doesn’t even finish the sentence when you push further. Replaced with a moan instead; her cheeks and nose wrinkle, fingers balled up to a fist behind and her elbow shaking. Her head barely keeping herself together with the cabinet as a last support, failing terribly.

You stop your movements because the lines on her face are forming toward a familiarity: nervous, dazed, hesitant. A quick twitch of your head negates all of those thoughts away and instead focuses on ramming your hips into her, the clash of skin rippling through you and her both.

It’s the bravado that she carries, the playfulness, her shift of her sly words, withering and fading at the amount of you: she’s fighting every fiber of muscle to sputter out her needs, though the sweat and slick spread out over body make up in the defilement of her undoing. You can see through her bullshit, and all she sees is the glide of your shaft back into her pussy - the width of you stretching so effortlessly her body forms a jagged line along the frame, mewling and bucking forward. Your fingers hold her hips still, drag your cock along the tightness, fill her up until she says otherwise.

“Makes no sense,” Yunjin huffs, gasping, head halfway in the gutter, trying to form a point. Her hands try to carry out her words, clinging, cock-full at the lean up, foreheads clashing. She whines into your skin, “Jesus- holy shit, dear fucking Christ-”

You’ll swallow her words and understand her completely.

Well- to say that her hot cunt is incredible would suffice so much. The more you push, the more the connection feels like it’s meant to be, in all the filth and the intimacy that’s thrown without thinking of the repercussions after.

You’ll give your praises and thanks - how her pussy grips around your cock so snug and tight and perfect, sing it into the skin and walls around you, paint it over as many times you’d like. To have a girl like her: a muse, with the desire and hunger impossible to resist, make you sink deeper and deeper where it won’t feel suffocating.

“Yeah?” you hear yourself say. Like you needed to explain yourself again. “Wouldn’t you know it.”

The strokes. You’re fucking up into her so nicely, give her no chance to breathe, legs hooked around your thighs. She’s opening up her body to you - you’re marking your own territory: shower her face with kisses, suck the skin across her neck, slide your arms underneath her back and keep pounding at the one angle where the trembling reaches her throat, presses her tongue to the back row of her teeth.

Christ, you really have no care; roughing her up on the kitchen counter right before dinner time. The fan above you two continues to whirr the smoke in the air where it masks the bundle of moans and curses spewing out of her lips. You could feel her fingers drag across your back, keeping herself close to you, fearful that you’ll stop like earlier and make her beg for more until she has her fix.

“Baby, baby, holy fuck,” you follow her voice, brushed up against your ear, sift your eyes back onto her and watch her loose mouth. She swallows, grazing the crown of her head to yours. “This cock, I fucking love it. I fucking love it so much, I could die here with how you’re-”

You shut her up, meet in the middle. Line up the beating of your heart to the move of your hips, lock your arms around her back; she’ll come crawling for that high again, blinded by the guarantee of you forcing her orgasm later.

“Yunjin,” you grit. Nearing that inevitable crash-out. It’s a never ending cycle of madness. Her cunt is eating your cock alive, soaking your waist. You want it all.

You want her to cum again: this time on your cock; you want to carry her in her arms, fuck your cock without her feet touching the ground; you want her to scream your name so loudly that it breaks the windows around the house. You’ll never have enough of the indescribable body and feeling that she has, ruining you over and over - not to mention her mouth - that too, is another dangerous addiction.

A fair bout. The fight for who's bolder. Who can make the other person more vulgar by the second.

These things have been decided right from the start.

Yunjin muffles a whimper behind her lips, cock clogging up her cunt like she’s backing away, hiding.

“Need it, need it so fucking much,” she hushes. “You- your cock. Can never get enough of my pretty little cunt - fuck I should just let you fuck me all day, all night, whenever you feel like it.” Her voice is rasped, the words alone sinister: “Warm you up when you least expect it, yeah? You’d like that, don’t you-” She yelps, nose scrunching when you bottom out and press your groin up against her clit, stomach contracting and relaxing as if she’d done five minutes of planking.

So you drag out and thrust in - slam your hips into hers, holding the motion there, repeating it soon after. Her hand files up to the cabinet door above and shove your cock down to the hottest point, where the wobbles of her waist finally reach up to her tits.

Because that’s really the only thing there is to it. Brain fucked out to mush with the marks and glistening sweat spread across, remnants of what the short period has passed.

Like you can’t help yourself. It’s in the enamored looks, the pockets of air siphoned before it’s coughed out, in the blissful enjoyment of fucking your slick cock in and out. “Holy shit,” she’s saying, head toppled off and arm going limp. She saves the energy for other than talking - let the waves of pleasure sweep her body and have you project her thoughts out for her: delirious and maniacal. “I hear- yeah- Okay. Okay, you said it yourself.”

Of course she agrees, and she knows. Whittled down to the fine rawness of it. What else is there left to say?

She’s amazingly gorgeous and beautiful - a gift from God himself. You remind her every time like it’s the first. When her lips met the end of your cock months ago, blowing your world away, the stretch of her pussy swallowing you whole and the tension was undoubtedly abysmal. Another second passes a shared breath: Yunjin-god-fucking-dammit, and there’s a bunch of other shit that gets said, listless and nonsensical where the only thing left to do is let the blistering warmth and clashing tongues do all the work for the both of you.

It’s normal: the way that she clings like she hasn’t seen you for days - leaning back with an arch and quite literally her feet off the ground.

Every moan sounds punctuated lazily, whining and whimpering and in a pitch where she almost sounds scared.

Still, she’s lost the plot: “Fuck me.”

That’s where everything clicks, a flame extinguished and replaced for something new, something profound: her face clenches in the quick swap of pain to relief, when you’ve put your cock at a spot inside where she sobs; the pleasure so intense the both of you exhale in unison, almost like a ‘got you’ moment entirely.

“Honey,” you say against her cheek, fingers planted in the divot of her lower back, spreading her so well the motion is absolutely seamless, a perfect fit and pace to ruin. “Look at you, so lovely; this fucking cunt feels amazing; oh my goodness.” Your words are making sense, barely, but it’s always on this path since you’ve met the girl; you just can’t help yourself. “I adore this pussy a little too much, don’t you think?”

“So funny, ah-” she quips, a smile brandished across her lip, eyes rolling to the back of her head, holding on to the last bits of common sense left, knowing well there’s no point. “I’d let you, to be honest. A good deal: my pussy for your cock. Fair trade?”

“Fuck yes,” is what slips out of your mouth, a truth to savor for eternity. “Want it all.”

It goes both ways: she wants to peg complete bullshit to you, say her fantasies of how big of a slut she can actually be, fuck that snark out of her until she’s satisfied - but then you watch and listen to the more mundane things she does, and your head can’t comprehend it either. You want her, her mind, her body, the secrets that she keeps locked up in a box sunk in the bottom of a river; things that she doesn’t want anyone to find out about; where the dares of admission only comes once in a blue moon and she tries to pass it along in conversation.

You could make an endless list as to what makes Yunjin a treasure to behold, to keep - proclaim it out loud like you haven’t done so already - a collapsing, beautiful madness, honestly. She’s holding you so close and you can’t afford to let go. That’s just how it is. All it takes is one look into her eyes and you never want to leave.

“You’re amazing,” you say to her, breathless.

Yunjin’s lashes flutter shut immediately after. As if you had to tell her again and again.

Her hips stay still while yours continue to move, every aftershock sent through her body creates these ridges you’re proud of, ankles to the swell of your ass, clamping around your cock, grinding teeth with her voice croaking: “-good, so good, so fucking good, please, for the love of God-”

Her upper lip arches the more she inhales, mouth hung open as the moans crumble on top of each other. Most have complained about the increase in occupancy, the hollers of a drinking game, midnight conversations about relationship mishaps and failures, bassline of a song that reverberates on the drywall and the occasional shouting battles that usually ended up stopping after a few minutes. Your neighbors do hear the constant pounding at some point during the day, annoyed and fed up like they didn’t want to have the fun themselves, each thrust bouncing her where her breasts jiggle on the upstrokes, palm full of them, the feel firm and heavy; and you look at her face again - where a certain crease of skin, above her brow, and you know that she’s going to lose it over your cock, how her limbs will surrender willingly, reduced to mush and cradling the fuck through her.

Yunjin’s arm springs forward over your shoulder. You pull her up, sit upright, body bouncing with her ass well off the counter, the angle primed and ready where the shocks to her ass start to become a cushion, tits wobbling and hypnotic and bouncing; you keep- keep fucking her little hole with no regard for her life.

It’s right where she wants you to be.

You’ll lay your flowers later, if you’re even alive to tell the tale: how Yunjin is completely destroyed by your shaft. Her hair frazzled, eyes half open and head tilted towards shame and in the closest iteration of a cocksleeve it could get. She’s so fucked into oblivion where it’s worth having served the verdict. The last moments of light that you want to keep forever, stay as long as you can.

When her lips meet yours, sweeping: a part of you starts to break beneath the cracks.

She’s trying so hard to keep a hand to your waist, then the counter, but you’re holding with every bottom out at the base and you entertain the idea where you could go any deeper, fuck her harder-

“Just-” she pleads, into your mouth, right on your tongue. “Yours. All yours. Fuck me like it’s the only thing that matters-”

“Jen,” you groan out raggedly, lock your elbows to her chest, matching the drag of her nails.

“Gonna cum so much,” is what you think she says. “Look at you, such a good boy.” Her pointer finger grazes the line of your jaw. “Plugging me full, I know you love it,” she dryly laughs, lightly pinching your hip when she hears the hint of a squelch of your cock sliding back in her, “this big, fucking cock,” and she’s really not helping you in this situation, claiming you as her own, soul snatched with no hope of returning it: “Pumping and pumping until I can’t get enough. Fuck. You’re so good at this, so fucking naughty. Got you all hard and needy for me - pounding my poor little pussy just to set me right,” this girl is fucking demonic, with the stuff that she’s telling you, her body right there in your hands; you haven’t been thinking straight since you’ve gone down on her - that cunt, her pussy lips gliding your cock with her slick soaking you endlessly-

“Shut the fuck up,” is what you manage, a futile attempt to stop her. Like it would ever work at all. “Don’t do that. Don’t do this to me.” It’s impossible. You’re so easy to trick, gullible enough to fall for anything that comes out of her mouth, let her take the advantage and leave you with nothing at the end. She believes that you’ve had your fun, and the turn switches back to her.

“Or what?” Yunjin smiles, nearing bliss. “Wanna cum on me? In me? Use your words, baby boy.”

You swear, or something close to that.

The rush becomes too much to bear, the thought of doing what she exactly wants: pulling your cock out of her tight cunt and paint your load all over her stomach, or- the more addicting idea of burying your dick inside her so deep that your release has a one way trip - you simply just- can’t. You shouldn’t. Not because to play it safe, but you’re safeguarding the responsibility of the filthiness that comes with it - what you could do - what you’ve done to her. Instead, you should throw her onto the floor, on her knees, shove your cock down her dirty mouth and cum in her throat or on her face, watch her clean up the mess you’ve made, press the thick tip of your cock on her plump lips and have her taste the sweetness of you. Have her drink it down until she has those doe brown eyes of hers looking up in acceptance. She’s beautiful: in the most fucked up, soaking, ginger-haired possible way imaginable.

“Let- let me-” you sputter towards a growl, but you can’t keep up with her words and replace it with the pace - how her cunt fits your cock so well like a perfect shoe, lengthy frame detrimental to yours. “Fuck, just let me-”

“Mhm,” she hums, unfazed.

“Fuck this slutty little cunt of yours,” you finally manage, and more of a promise already written; you continue to fuck into her, snap your hips in where your balls start knocking above the pucker of her ass, working your cock along those velvety walls, feel the gush with every squeeze of muscle along her pussy, stretching amazingly with the clench.

“Keep going.” She prods at your waist.

Oh, she knows where this is going. It’s hot. It’s diabolical. It just feels right. You’re convinced that she’s figured you out, but playing dumb on purpose to see you admit it right in front of her. She sees the quick rise and fall of your chest - your shoulders, fingers grasping pale skin as it turns to something crimson, glance at the devilish smile she possesses that severs all the nerves in your brain: you are so fucking down bad for this woman, and you can’t do anything about it.

“Keep-”

“I know,” and you do.

“Love this. Love you. Love everything that’s happening,” says Yunjin, praising. “Tell me all the things- the things you want to do to me.”

“Sweetie,” you gasp at the next firm thrust, “gonna put my cock in your mouth, fuck your throat until you choke,” you snap, madness fully consmed, “fuck your holes full and then-”

Then what? Have her ask to pound her ass? Ride you? Make her scream with the doors wide open? What more could you say or do that isn’t in the cauldron of pure insanity-

“Use me more,” Yunjin sighs, and that’s the crystal clear thought pulled right out of your cock, “take me, grab wherever, I just need- god, your cum- want your cum so fucking much,” each word in that sentence rising an octave, “Cum,” a simple mantra, a demand. Yunjin’s creaming cunt, filling her up whole, you’re gonna burst inside and she’ll happily accept it as a gift, getting off on the sound ripping through your chest, hips bucking, legs tensing, her lower half quivers beneath you; attitude reduced to soft sounds, you taking full advantage with the fall-off imminent.

Some of these things, you can’t afford to think; fucked up as it is, it’s better to revel in the silliness and disregard the common sense.

“Oh fuck,” you hear her breathe, tone low and insanely turned on, her smile already showing she’s won. “Fuck yes-”

But even if you’re splitting her insides apart, a small fraction of control rests within you, feeling the curves of her body ripple, in a slowing rhythm, pound her cunt for one more second and finally give her the reward.

A rope of cum is all she gets on the inside; as for the rest-

“Yes- wait no, fuck- what are you doing?” Yunjin sounds completely in shock for what you’ve committed, snuff the flame out from her pulsing cunt, slide yourself out of the tightness, hold her leg up since she’s too weak to resist. You’re going to hell, but so is she. Painting all over the flat plane of her stomach, coating her pale skin with your cum. “You fucking bitch- that doesn’t belong there,” but she’s too fucked out to do anything about it, and you don’t even bother to dish out a good comeback, let the actions do the talking for you: “Put it back, please, please,” and you do as she says.

It’s a fresh feeling, the way her warmth envelops your soft cock, holding it so nicely as you help her sit back up properly. Mouth back on you instantaneously.

“I’m gonna get back at you,” is what she says against your grazing lips, brushing her cheek along the tip of your nose. Her nails lightly scratch your back, ruffles into your hair. “If you’re up for it, you’ll follow.”

“Challenging me? A bit crude, even for you,” you remark - she grins into your face, slides off the counter, fingers dancing along your slick, softening cock.

A familiar look in her eyes. Telling you, yeah, I know - underlying the surface, but she’s got her entire hand in every crook of your brain, unfaltering: “We’ll see.” Then she says, “Get your ass on the sofa.”

–

If there’s anything you learned about Yunjin: she never backs down from her word.

Oh- and your mouth’s formed in the way she wants it to be. You’ve got it all wrong there, too.

She tells you to keep your hands on the seat, at the sides and on the ready; impulsively, you want to pick up right where you left off from the kitchen, eyes locked between your legs, her head graciously bobbing up and down, vibrations all over the sensitive surface - feeling the pinching cramp in your backside, tensing the muscle, swallowing the opposite end of you with ease.

Her lips stop halfway when you raise your hand a bit too high for her liking.

“Fuck me, Yunjin,” you mutter, watching her sink your cock into her throat. “Don’t do that.”

Yunjin flashes a glare, flutters her eyelids shut, drags her head back up and gasps. Her mouth is one thing. Her hands? They show you no mercy. You’ve been in this scenario before - a lot of times for some quick context, so tonight isn’t any different. She’s working you tightly at your balls and the base, intending to wring you clean of the release you should’ve left inside her. The one-two punch killer enough to leave you paralyzed from the waist down; she runs her mouth on the tip, tongue tracing a vein and the underside, curling her fingers and stroking so delicately-

Yeah. You’re pretty much fucked like this. It’s a losing situation.

Your head falls back while your hips slide forward, turning your body over to her mouth which earns a moan in response. The look on her face is deadly, and the sounds ripping through your chest implicates your high not far to reach. Those fucking plump lips: well parted and sliding all over her spit, moving back up and sinking again, the suction a bit more forceful the second time around, cheeks puffing and hollowing, blinking dutifully.

She knows how badly you want to fuck her face, shove your cock into her mouth and expect a reward in return. Yunjin knows you want to get there, eventually, pulling herself off and twists your shaft, sees the tilt of your chin to the ceiling, relishing the submission.

“So fucking hard,” she grins, examining the mix of her spit and slick all over you, listening to the wet noises she created. “I can’t wait to taste your cum again.”

She’s too good for your own sake, and you can’t fight back on it.

“Be a good little toy and relax,” Yunjin instructs gently. Puckering her lips and slapping your sensitive head all over them. Soft. Lucious. Sinful. Her innocent blinks fail to cover it, nor the fact how pretty she looks with a pensive expression: it’s evil. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

You nod right away and she dives back down. Her tongue rubs around the tip between her lips, flattening to slide you into the softness and sleek feeling of her throat, bathing you with spit when your hips produce the slightest hitch. She’s had enough practice with you - to know how her tongue moves in all the ways she knows you love, easily bottoming the whole length like she has before, determined to hear you groan in rapture, and you do.

“Christ, Yunjin- baby-” you grit, and your head falls back to the head of the couch.

When she sucks, you flex your ankles forward. The mess worsens before it gets better, streams of drool leaking over your cock. She spreads it around with her mouth, her fingers, palm flattening, her lips fully sealed at the root, her nose digging into your waist. You’re amazed and how well she takes you, holding her head down for a few seconds - that’s the personal trial she set for herself: how long she could keep you there, the flex in her neck, gurgling and choking. It’s also dangerous in the fast switch up from the clamp of her throat to the alternating pace of her flushing your cock in and out, deepthroating you to the point where she can feel your whole body twitch. A pressure point, cutting the line until it’s completely severed.

You’re sucking so much air into your lungs, creating a pocket at your waist. She pops her mouth off the tip and has the audacity to cackle in your face.

She’s testing the endurance to it’s limit, her slick hands wrapped well around your shaft when she tends to your balls, getting mouthful of each one and peppering them with licks and kisses, hair pooling over your waist and to your thighs, knowing how good she as at fucking breaking you. There’s no denying that your girlfriend is an irresistible cockslut and personal toy, since the part goes both ways when it’s the right occurrence. Once she’s through the few moments of breathing, her jaw slacks and takes you back in, hearing you huff at the subtle graze of her teeth.

The moan sputters out on impulse as you get careless and place your hand to Yunjin’s cheek, rubbing a thumb below her eye, and you could see the tick at the corner of her mouth break into a smile. She lifts her head up, giggles at the shudder of your thighs when her teeth taps your cockhead. “Aw, are you worked up already?”

“More or less,” you answer, and it’s a sudden moment of grace, a blessing in disguise, mind telling the rest of your body to calm down as she slowly jerks you off. “You know me, I wouldn’t back down on your escapades,” and you moan again when she speeds up the pace, “Seriously, it’ll be on you if I cum like this.”

She kisses your cock and licks. This girl can’t be helped. “What a shame. Hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“We can do this all night if we have to, so why not?”

Yunjin lets out a dry laugh. “We will, don’t worry,” she says, carefully pumping you and swipes her thumb over the slit, seeing the thread of precum bridged across, twisting at the middle. “It’s just been a while since we’ve had a conversation while I gave you head.”

“What’s on your mind this time?” you inquire, playing into the deliberation, “Probably something intriguing, I assume.”

Yunjin blinks, locks her finger and thumb around the base of your shaft. “You think Kazuha’s fucked a cock like this?”

You stare, pondering, it takes a second longer for the question to set in because it’s entirely out of left field. “You’re asking me out of all people? How the fuck would I know? She doesn’t bring those kinds of details up with me whenever we talk about it.”

“But I can’t help but wonder,” Yunjin tuts, hand carelessly sliding around you, nicking her head back. “Have you ever fantasized about your best friend?”

“Yunjin, that’s just weird. Fuck no-”

“Aw, you can be honest with me. You and I don’t keep secrets with her as it is, no need to hide.”

She then tips her head, flickers her eyes up at the heavy sigh your mouth makes when her lips make contact with your cock. Her smile goes even wider, noticing the twitch at your eyebrow, how you’re clenching your teeth and bring your chest up to your shoulders - where she’s managed to work you up with the finesse and enchantment that’s simply exuded from her.

There’s nothing much for you to do except sitting back and let Yunjin take your whole length into her mouth. No notes or objections for her to hear, but the sticky wet sounds slathering your shaft and your body moments away from finally giving the reward she rightfully deserves.

“Pretty fucked up sense,” you’re mumbling your head off, moving wisps of her hair out of her face, thinking less and less as she stuffs her throat of you, keeling and leaning forward to where you’re lifting your ass off the couch. “Shit-”

This is her version of a truth serum, a polygraph; her mouth and hands working beautifully in tandem, her collarbone vanishing into her neck, guiding you to the well-wrapped grip she has with her fingers, fucking you with panache in the hot curves of her throat.

She loves it when you’re like this: bending to her will and getting you off with the tightest fist. Wringing you clean now that you’ve done the hard work.

Her hand cups your balls, nails scratching the ridges. The pace she keeps is relentless, alternating from base to tip so excruciatingly well, twisting and jerking and fucking-

“Mmph?”

“You’d be surprised if I said yes.”

Yunjin slides her mouth off once more, spits the underside, lapping up the slick. “No fucking way. You’ve thought about it before?”

“Predates you, if you want me to be more specific.”

She flashes the same wicked grin you’ve seen before, tongue tracing a path at the root. Pursing her lips when she inhales, taking in the scent. Legitimately, fuck her. Lashes fluttering heavy with the eyelids, pupils dilating and too faded for you to notice. “If it makes you feel better, I came to that conclusion a while back, just didn’t say anything.”

“Were you sparing me?”

Yunjin ticks her lips, still smiling, taking pride at the concurrence. “It is also hot for you to finally confess about her.” Her hand plants firmly at your thigh and you consciously thrust your hips back in, gasping in beautiful bliss. She swallows you back up again, clenching her throat and sealing where you’re blinking a lot more faster this time. That rose colored mouth humming along the skin with every puff of her cheeks, flushing it perfectly like it’s practiced. Her back arches and bends, unfazed with the constant shake of your right leg, all the motions culminating in your muscles and hers, rising and rising-

“Yeah, okay, alright, I’m- holy shit-”

“Mmmphphm-”

Your composure snaps, hand now to her head, a death grip in her hair, fucking her face ruthlessly, drunk at the feeling of her mouth and the obscene gawking noises and the bob of her throat curling your cock, lips smaking and drooling more that you regret not putting a towel on the hardwood floor beneath you two.

It’s incredibly difficult to internalize, let alone imagine the wish you could capture this feeling for eternity, bring it out from a bottle at the shortest convenience. Yunjin doesn’t falter with the moaning, friction slippery and neurons overloaded, delusion finally high and head still to you - plugging her hot mouth full of your cock, sliding in the smooth muscle, throbbing.

She takes another deep breath, earning a palm to her face, gaze wistful and deep into your soul. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Damn right you are.

Yunjin doesn’t need to clarify what she said, since she already knew. Instead, the flicks of her wrist are astonishingly meticulous, amazed that you’re rock solid not just because of her, but rather the thought of Kazuha doing the same thing to you, given with the experience.

“I think you’re ready,” she declares, and the sentence alone is loaded with different interpretations.

She doesn’t savor the moment of grace soon after, siphons the breath out of you when she puts her lips back on your cock. Your mind’s no longer there, thinking: Yunjin, Kazuha - the pair doing numerous things to you all at once. Trading your cock between their hot mouths, hands stacked along your shaft, pressing into their slick cunts and watch them keen of being split apart. Yunjin’s sloppy mouth fucking you brings it back to reality, slit leaking and ready to burst. She licks once, twice, thrice, lips wrapped around your cockhead and hand twisting the shaft, aiming in one direction where the load should go.

Your thighs tense, breathing ragged, shoulders back and chest out when her eyes go wide - shocked at the first thread of cum caught in the roof of her mouth. A pillow falls off from the couch as you’re fighting the urge to push her face away from your hips and that’s when it get worse.

It hadn’t been that long since you last came, but the surprise was a welcome one when more shots of white start spilling over your stomach, her hands, her face, on her button nose, your shaft twitching in her hands when she hovers her mouth over your tip and seals it to safeguard remnants of the damage.

“Yunjin, fuck- oh, fuck-”

“Mmm,” she hums gleefully, licking the mess off of you and squinting at the leaking slit, pulsing out more. Your cock softening again and body in a complete mess, fingertips carefully moving on your belly and brain falling in and out of consciousness. “Oh my god. You came so fucking much.”

She nuzzles her face into your side, observing your chest calming down: “didn’t think I had more in me.” And that’s pretty ironic coming from you. “Congrats, babe. Consider me dead.”

“There’s more where that came from,” replies Yunjin, orange hair swirling over your shoulder. “We’re even now.”

Doesn’t get any better than that, really. The score stands at one-to-one.

–

“By the way,” Yunjin starts off again, spent and roughed up on the mattress after going back to back rounds a little less than thirty minutes later. First in the shower and the second on the bed; a restoration to the pecking order, actually on the same page. “She drunkenly confessed to me about it while you were gone one night. Poor girl can’t keep a secret. I felt bad.”

“Her loss, honestly. Sucks to be her for having the issue.”

“You don’t think it’s a problem.”

“Well that depends on your solution.”

“Well,” says Yunjin, expectant. “I was gonna propose-”

(You can kind of see where this is going.)

“-maybe the both of us could- y’know, deal with her as we see fit.”

“Meaning?”

“Emulate a porn plot towards her, the typical one where the girlfriend shares with her best friend.”

You plop on the mattress, tilting your head.

“Like a collaborative effort?” You’re then asking; the thought not too far-fetched, but still brazenly out of her mind. Even for Yunjin’s standards. “What’s worse is the idea of you sharing me? With Zuha? I swear you were possessive about me, where did that go?”

Yunjin bends her leg up against yours, brushing a thigh before her knee nestles at your waist. Nothing but smooth, soft skin just there for you to touch, to feel, and just- right on your lap.

“Consider us sharing. Communal, I guess.” Her brain’s working next to you, then it hits. “A communal cock for the both of us.” She snorts, bursts out laughing once she’s created the twisted hypothesis. “Our cock. Kazuha and I. Please, tell me you’re loving the idea.”

“I don’t hate it,” you’re stating, hand slipping lower to the swell of her ass. There you go again: thinking about Kazuha and Yunjin together. It’s supposed to be a silly theory.

“So, will you help me? Unless there’s something I don’t know about.”

“I’m not really in a position to say no, but I’ll let you do your thing.”

“Take that as a yes, then,” Yunjin rests a cheek along your chest, prompting you to move your other arm around and fully embrace her, paying no attention to her kneecap pressing up against your balls, “you wouldn’t want to hear my plan to get our girl set up for what’s coming?”

“You can brief me sometime later.” Another thing added to the agenda, with the rest of the responsibilities filling up your notifications and inbox. “Unless you want to surprise me.”

Yunjin squints her eyes, purses her lips at you the next second; fingers dancing along your jaw, your throat. “If that’s what you want,” she concurs, retrieving your hand to her hip. “One more for the night?”

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk the next morning.”

And so she gets herself off like that. Your cock in Yunjin’s hand and pressed up against the skin, feel the rush of her pussy lips coating you in slick. Her fingers too dainty and delicate, precise at the touch. You’re alternating from slipping inside her hot cunt - eventually stuck between her impossibly tight thighs crushing the shaft.

Your throat and hers rumble low, locking legs and letting the hinged hips do their own thing, listening to each other’s nuances of groans and curses and names traded until the overdue exhaustion following the pleasure washes over you two. Yunjin’s face is dazed, relaxed and satisfied with the spill between her legs, her whole body wrapping around you; conserving the heat in any way she can - even if it means to sink your cock back into your cunt.

You’re hoping the next wet dream you have turns into reality.

–

A quick look into the inner lens of manifests and proclamations: most of the intents are put in a good light. Speak it into existence and great things will soon come its way - that type of thing.

When you want something - you’re holding your breath for what’s to happen.

As for Yunjin, it’s quite the opposite:

“Imagine all the ideas you could have if you just- let it happen?” She’s on your back and flipping pancakes, breath tickling your ear and putting her down becomes a favorable option than the latter. “Look at it this way, Party A can only take action if the conditions are met in agreement with Party B.”

“Please allow me to ask, but who the fuck is Party B?” You swivel in place and swing Yunjin’s long legs around the kitchen, the wrap of her arms hooking deeper at your neck.

“I’m not answering that,” Yunjin says, foot to your thigh and altering your attention to a low-ponytailed Kazuha sitting across, ready and raring to go for her run.

Kazuha looks dumbfounded, lost, predictable. “What are you guys talking about a Party B?”

“Huh?” you and Yunjin say in unison.

“Huh?” Kazuha repeats the utterance.

Then all three of you say: “What?” Queue the laugh track - somebody, please.

“Enough of this,” you declare, setting Yunjin down so she can finish cooking the meal. You glance at the glowing screen of your phone, see a few new messages pop up, and a notification from one of the places you applied to. “Crap,” you then say, realizing what’s on the attachment, “It got moved up?! Gotta run.”

“You too, hm?” Kazuha chides, with an eye smile and a slice of banana in her mouth. “Cute.”

“Make sure you bring your lunch with you, honey!” Yunjin yells while you blitz back into the bedroom to get changed. “Can’t own the interviews on an empty stomach!”

–

Various managers you keep in touch with praise your skills and determination, saying that you would be a good fit for the team. It’s a waiting game now; only a matter of time before someone steps forward, claims you as theirs.

Some places you’re fielding calls from, shortening the list. You’re forwarding it back to home base: hit or miss for today’s adventures, thinking about taking either minnie’s offer or sian’s.

Yunjen 💟: i loooove sian! miss that girl so much (;-;)

Yunjen 💟: pls say yes to her next time, for me? 🥺

🍑: u forgot ur water bottle at home, idiot 🥸

You: great, now i gotta wash it because you touched it

🍑: you’re really bout it today, huh?

🍑: i’m gonna kick your ass when you get back

You: please, whatever you throw, i’ll catch

Yunjen 💟: aw, i won’t be there to see you school her in mario kart again 😭😭😭

🍑: if i can beat your ass at racing, jennifer, i can def beat him

🍑: u think too low of me.

Yunjen 💟: you two play nice now, i’ll be back by dinnerrrr

Yunjen 💟: let me know how it goes

–

Kazuha greets you at the door, sighing with disappointment, like she owns the place - that’s partly true: she pays for half the rent but always forgets until you remind her.

“What’s with the look?” you ask flatly.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, face tugged to a scowl. “Just thought that you’d be back in high spirits after landing the job.”

“Results don’t come that fast,” you remark, following her in the apartment, feet scruffing and leggings skin tight around her figure. Hair clumped together after being tied for a long period. “They said that they’re gonna do one more week of evaluations and see from there.”

“Meaning?”

“I get the job, which means more money; if not, we keep looking.”

Kazuha chuckles, settling herself on the couch with her legs curled, watches as you drop your things and join soon after. “Is this the part where I ask how your day was like old times?”

“Zuha, I’m gonna walk right out that door if you do. Please don’t.”

“Not even this once?”

You stare at Kazuha’s delighted wink, rolling her eyes back and cringing. “Well shit, my day hasn’t been that interesting either, thanks for asking.” She says, palm sliding down her face with a sheepish smile. “Can’t even have drinks until Yunjin gets back.”

“What’d you suggest we do for the meantime?”

Kazuha grabs the controller, treating it like a deck of cards for a party trick. She lifts her eyebrows, tempting.

“You weren’t kidding.” you say, amazed.

“Unless you have a better idea,” she drawls, shaking it to double down the offer. “What, too much of a pussy to play me?”

“You’re on. Give me the other controller.”

–

Full disclosure aside.

Moments like these with Kazuha have always been the usual bread and butter for you two to bond over on. With the amount of years carried in between - part of you has imagined what it would be like if the relationship label found its way to you two instead of the opposite.

(You remember it vividly, the brief period was short lived for a few months after keeping the emotions at bay for a long ass time. Going into high school was the usual phase where the feelings aren’t exactly certain, and eventually change. She could’ve left you out of her life then, but didn’t. Attached wasn’t the right word you or her would say, though, you’re glad she stayed either way.)

Even after she started to come out of her shell, be talkative, get more active, fit in clothes that make you and every other horny guy on campus drop their jaws at, she’s still the same girl you met back in kindergarten: a true friend at your side going places, while also doing stupid stuff for the fun.

“This goddamn blue shell, I swear to god-”

As for you, well- you’ve got tunnel vision, deathly locked to the screen, blocking all outside noise and focusing on the mario character and the amount of asphalt you got on the tires. Kazuha was all up in your ear, talking about how she managed to build a gap after a poor start on your end with the amount of bananas being tossed up track and dropped along the kerbs. She also thought racing at 200cc was a great idea - when in reality she’s only raced nothing above 50cc.

She’s using every trick in the arsenal: the hand to your face, kicking your side; hell, even covering your end of the screen if it meant being in last place. Her definition of victory was seeing you not succeed.

All in all, it was a good way to have fun.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she asks, when she’s fully calmed down and actually playing properly. “That night where you had to pick me up from the kickback,” her body leaning with the steering motion of the kart when the controls were strictly to the joystick. “No one told me I didn’t get hooked up with anybody.”

“Because you didn’t.” you say tiredly. Explaining the gauntlet she gave you to bring her back home safely.

You’re finishing first ahead of Kazuha - the girl can’t drive in real life as it is.

Her legs cross over yours, paying no attention to the spread of her toes and flex of her calves. Heel grazing your crotch before resting along your thigh, fighting the urge to break composure and adjust yourself. “Hmph, that’s a shame. Since you did see me drunk after all-”

“Happens multiple times than I would like to count,” you’re saying mildly, glancing, “I was also hoping that Sakura would take you home instead of Eunchae calling me.”

“Is that what happened?” Kazuha asks, and it abrupts your thoughts quickly. “Sorry- I know I asked the morning after but - still don’t remember much.”

You look away, down to your hips. Your mind and body clearly not in sync.

Which begs the question: “So, what do you actually remember? From that night?”

The answer she gives goes in one ear and out the other. Vividly telling you the details.

“You’re not very slick about me; you know that, right?” Kazuha concedes. And you agree, completely cornered.

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Gonna keep talking?”

“Please, I can do more than just talk.”

Kazuha bites her lip, pulls her legs back, shakes her head, the intent easy for you to read. There’s a few shared secrets with her you’d like to keep.

What’s one more thing to hide from Kazuha and Yunjin?

–

Think of it this way, racing’s got a lot to offer: the thrill, the rush, the risk. Kazuha loves to put you in the dust; always making you chase until you’ve got one over her. She’s screwed you over in other lifetimes - including this one - but, it’s worth noting the exception: a rare occasion where you’re back at the starting line and finishing all the same.

Kazuha doesn’t look over her shoulder often; disregards the terror she leaves behind without a care, and you ought to remind her where it lands as soon as you can.

“Jesus christ-” is what leaks out of her lips, biting down another moan in her throat. You cup her chin and force the look up, hands slipping on the glass. “Your fucking cock is just-”

Amazing? Well, she took the words from Yunjin, and you know.

It’s extravagantly fucked up: turning back time as if it was yesterday - you’re railing her in the shower, warm water falling from above, steam fogging up beneath.

She sure knows how to make you shut up, just like old times, and a small part of you wishes how things might’ve been different if you or her if you said something back then, but you’ll let your bodies do the talking - her cunt clenching around your shaft, skin rippling the water off with every wet slap in, hand reaching for your thigh for stability. You’re just holding on and having her do most of the work in throwing her ass back, begging you for more, press her against the wall, take your cock like she always does - she may treat you like shit in the most affectionate way possible, but that layer is stripped entirely if her heart and mind allowed it. You’re going to fuck her pretty cunt, make her remember that night where she got herself off with you watching and act like nothing happened despite the raw marks of red on her creamy skin.

That too, and she’ll be a pain in your ass still: “What’s wrong? Worried Yunjin will walk in on us?”

“Kind of counting on it,” you relent, and she hunches. You pull her back up and feel her breath hit your chin. “Who knows? Maybe she’d want to join us.”

“You think so?” Her arms flush with the tile.

“If you’ve forgotten,” you manage, bracketing her waist - grip hard enough to make her yelp, and you’re loving every second. She’s a brat and a bitch and a slut rolled up into one; someone who has no care for others, except - oh, right; you’ve put up with it long enough. It’s the perfect opposite. “You’re the one who made the first move.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” she denies, dishonored and deflective, so you drag your hips and push back in, grab her face, watch her jaw go slack. “Oh god. Baby, yes-”

The water’s streaming down her chest, her abs, spraying off to the walls and glass - you snake your hand to her neck, a muscle memory: everything else is an easy line to follow.

One of her legs are lifted for you to hook, so that you can reach the familiar angle you’ve lost the feeling for too long, where you’ve made her scream, swear out more obscene stuff. She’s bracing herself along the wall properly when you’ve slid your cock back inside her; she’s groaning a lot louder now, tensing, moaning - you’re supporting her and she’s taking it like you promised, her head bobbing all over the place, mouth canted, skin flushed hot-pink. A smile breaks at the corner of her lips. It’s the easy position, the natural flow of motion, keeping pace, a simple solution to a problem - all of the qualifications applied in different situations. Except, your hands find themselves on the rise of her hips, ass hypnotizing you all over your eyes; she’s leaking on your cock, cunt split open and ready to ruin - and you think you’ve finally won the argument, somewhere hidden past the heavy breathing.

“Fuck- fuck me. Oh- shit- ah-” spills out, and it’s another win to take in, soaking the moment of bliss - that’s so fucking good, i’ve missed this so much, keep going, yes- right there, harder - she’s lost her mind entirely.

You shouldn’t be grinning wickedly, but you are - it’s relieving in bend a girl like her to your will who can’t hold herself to the end.

“The worst kind,” she’s huffing, gasping, mewling, trying so hard to keep her posture up while you work her towards the orgasm she’s been asking for since her feet skimmed over the bulge in your pants, playing it off like nothing terribly as it’s a routine for her. You’re aware that she’s probably touched herself while you and Yunjin fucked throughout the night. The walls around here are thin as it is, and so much for that.

You don’t let up, fucking her hard and fast, like she wanted - praising you for finally breaking that unspoken rule left behind years ago and promise to keep it on the low. You and her both knew it would happen again eventually. How could you not? Just one little change of impulse and you’re on the one way track to hell.

(Don’t act like this wasn’t your doing, either.)

“I don’t hate,” she says, urging, whining and whimpering and you’re dying to hear more of it for her - “please, just- it’s incredible, I fucking love it, this fucking cock- all for me-”

You grab a handful of her slick hair and yank, watch the arch in her spine rise, the fluttering eyelids and shape of her mouth. Kazuha drops her jaw even lower and winces when you pound her pussy deeper; the imaginary line in your head fades with the steam. She’s clenching tightly around your shaft, and you know that this won’t be a singular occurrence. She’s gonna be coming back for more, becoming addicted, clingy. “You like? S’that feel good?” you’re asking anyway, waiting to hear the same answer.

You want this to last. Her cunt quivers around your length, clamping. You’ve fucked her through the first orgasm, onto the second or third, neither of you are keeping track - you’re chasing for your own - but there’s a sense of grandeur to this, in addition of the gratification to the reward from watching how astonishlingy you can dick her down and put her back in her place.

Kazuha’s putting effort where it counts. Says: “Need- I need it- fucking christ, please, do it already-” And - fuck, not in a polite way, but good note for trying.

Kazuha sobs along with a low huff that’s one of the hottest things you’ve heard from her in a while - a long time - contracting and expanding and clenching around you. Great job, baby. You did a good job keeping up with me. I don’t mind you cumming first. I’d prefer to finish second. Holy shit, you don’t realize how long it’s been since you stepped in the shower, mind focusing on Kazuha and legitimately nothing else.

“Shh, shh,” you’re saying, a finger to her lips, feel her tongue run against the side of it - and the nod is small, but you’re thinking ahead to what she’ll do next.

You pull yourself out and slap the tip on her pussy lips, listen closely to the squelch when you slip in again, deeper. You can’t tell if the water on her face is from the shower head or her tears, trickling down as her mouth meets yours. God, her kisses are just like the first ones.

“Gonna cum again?” you ask, delicately. “You are. Let it out.”

And Kazuha can breathlessly say yes without the words - she’s cumming, cumming, and wants to show you how badly. You could spend a few more minutes here, conserve the water. Paying the bill and next rounds of games can wait.

–

There’s no complexity behind it. The sun comes up and the world still spins.

Some days, Kazuha flutters to you - bare cunt underneath her shirt and you’re catching a second glance. Slaps your ass like every other time and expects you to bring it up later. Which you do.

Or-

You’re taking her by surprise, as some lousy excuse to pin her down on the nearest hard surface within reach, perch her hips up to yours until you have to carry her to the shower or bed - only for the mess to come back around again. She tugs the ends of the panties, faintly smacking on her skin, wiggles her perky ass and touches her hair - bundles it up in her hands, her slender back towards you and another spot to deal with some other time.

“You sure you don't want Yunjin to know?” She asks, snapping you out of your daydream.

With a quirk of your lips, “Maybe she already knows. But if I speak, I’d be in big trouble.”

Kazuha tsks. “So wrong for you to leave her out of the fun.” To be fair, she’s more right than wrong. If you were honorable enough to tell the truth, you could’ve told Yunjin to commensurate something with the shared dynamics - albeit way more confusing than it is, because it’s all just for fun, a wacky journey with no destination.

A rerun of you, fucking Kazuha into puddled pile of pure putty, watch her eyes shimmer when you cum in her mouth, in her hair, paint her pussy with your mess and see her relieved - a deal slipped under the table, unspoken. Yunjin might’ve swapped roles with her in being gullible or oblivious to the signs now - or even back then, you’re not quite convinced. Bottomline: you’ve missed this version of Kazuha. It’s a nice switch up and a way to disconnect and destress from the pressures of the outside world, sheltering and confining yourself since that’s always the best option to have - besides, there’s some work to do still: you got the notice of the final evaluation, from both jobs at the top of your list, somewhat nerve wracking. You’ll have to make a decision, find what fits best for you, which one pays more. Maybe get a second opinion from Yunjin or Kazuha.

You’ll figure it out as you go along.

–

When you do ask Yunjin about your little dilemma, part of her attention is on you - at a distance.

She’s too busy watching Phantom of the Opera after you ate her cunt out while her hourly reading earlier in the day, only because she kept teasing you underneath the desk while on call with the same friend who managed to land a position at their new job. Relax, they’re saying at the time, don’t worry too much and just be ready for what’s to come.

“Huh? Sorry, ask me again,” Yunjin’s telling you, chin on her shoulder and glances over at you at the kitchen preparing dinner. “The actress’s high note caught me off guard.”

Kazuha laughs, sitting on the counter and at your side, peeling off lettuce for her salad - proximity minimized to where your hand’s grazing her thigh. “Are you sure Sian’s job is the right one for you?” she asks, rephrasing the question as her own. “I mean, you say you liked the offer from her.”

“Possibly,” you answer, slicing a carrot, placing the knife down. “She told me she’ll call sometime tomorrow to confirm.”

“Makes sense,” Yunjin supplies. “Good pay. Office isn’t far, convenient. Also on the fact that she’s pretty to be a manager or in charge? Heavy on the pretty, though.”

“Right,” you agree, looking at Kazuha, fingers slipping over the rise of her thigh and in. You quirk your eyebrow in suspicion, noticing the lack of underwear (once again) and her folds already soaking. “She really is pretty.”

Kazuha bites her lip, dips her head down.

“I think I've made up my mind,” you say, pushing- sliding deeper in, quirk your lip in a ‘shh’ so that Kazuha can keep her voice low. “Might’ve been a pure choice from the start.”

“You think so?” Yunjin says, puzzled. “That was easy.”

You and Kazuha both give a confused look at her. Knuckles curled in Kazuha’s walls, inconspicuous and hidden - a familiar reflex and motion of the hand. She’s so slick for you, it’s unfathomable. A whimper rumbles within her chest, and you cough loudly to cover the sound.

Yunjin glances over for a third time. “Everything okay there?”

Kazuha sniffles, seamlessly playing along without a proper cue. “The onions,” you’re saying, sheepishly grinning like a dumbass. “Zuha got the first wave of them.” To that, Yunjin laughs, wiggling her head the other direction. “Should’ve been helping me over here instead.”

“I would,” replies Yunjin, waving her hand up in the air. “But my legs have lost their feeling. Wonder whose fault is that.”

You shrug your shoulders and carry on your work at the counter.

–

You’re fielding calls from the shortlist, waiting for one contact.

Then the phone rings.

Greetings are exchanged and it’s right down to business: “Drop by the office later. It’ll be brief, I promise. Just checking in one last time on how you feel about the offer.” Sian’s telling you. “Apologies for making you wait.”

“Nonsense,” you’re beaming, swiping through your belongings and whatever you can fill in your hand. “Wasn’t doing much besides keeping myself busy.”

Soon you’re on the way out of the door, noticing a box next to your shoes. You don’t remember ordering anything in the past few days, so that theory is eliminated automatically. Yunjin’s made her way to see you off, arms crossed and partially excited.

You pull your phone away, pointing to the package. You’re mouthing the curiosity, and Yunjin nods. There’s not much to assume: it’s probably a new batch of books for her to read, or some clothes. You don’t suspect much.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be on my way now. See you soon.”

–

(The interview goes exactly as Sian said it would.

She’s telling you about the perks about the office and benefits within the first few months. They’re all really good, you can’t deny that. Not to mention the signing bonus. You can’t stop smiling at the new opportunity, ecstatic for what’s in store.

You’re driving home later and feel like the sun’s burning a little bit brighter than usual - clouds filling up the endless blue sky.

An attempt is made to call Yunjin, but no answer. You try Kazuha too, no luck.

There’s the simple assumption that they’re both busy and they’ll see the missed calls before you get back.

A cleared schedule opens up a lot of things.)

–

Everything seems a lot easier when there isn’t a weight on your shoulders, relieved of stress and the only current worry is hobbling back to your bed and sleeping there for the rest of the day. You click the deadbolt out of place and swing the door open, letting yourself in. “I’m home,” you’re calling out, slipping out of your shoes and the bag gets placed next to the small table where the keys go. “Genuinely thought it was going to take longer-”

You freeze your movements when you hear the spill of moans close by.

Because you peek the corner like a kid waiting for Santa Claus - but instead of seeing a red man placing gifts and stealing milk and cookies, you see Kazuha leaning back on the kitchen counter, sitting on the chair with someone else on top of her, leaving fresh marks it could be mistaken of her being bitten from a vampire - the person on top presses her hips up, diving down to her neck, pushing and yanking before you realize she’s getting fucked by-

“Yunjin, what the fuck!?” you exclaim.

Yunjin rests her head on Kazuha’s chest, fingers clasping to her shoulder - you’ve seen that wicked look on her face before, devilish and corrupt. Now, in your place: it’s Kazuha pulling her close, tilting her head back when Yunjin shifts her hips up between Kazuha’s legs, dragging out another moan.

“Welp, I guess we got caught,” says Yunjin, and her strap-on slips out of Kazuha in one simple pull.

Clearly, you’re confused, bamboozled. Yunjin’s coming back to her senses as she swipes a hair behind her ear, playing the innocent role poorly and none of it makes sense, at all. Your girlfriend and roommate - roommate and girlfriend, and you start to remember-

“Thought I said that I wasn’t finished,” Kazuha sputters, oblivious of your presence. She’s sitting back up on the chair and clinging to the edge of the counter. “You told me that I’ll have my turn with the strap when you’re done - we barely started.” She’s hitting Yunjin’s arm, hair falling over and panting erratically. “Yunjin, please-”

“Zuha,” Yunjin taps Kazuha’s shoulder, flicks a finger towards you - authoritative and calm. “I think we have other things to worry about. Also hey hi, I didn’t hear the door open or you walk in.”

“Well I did,” you say, walking further inside and assessing the scene. Kazuha then sees you in her view and her jaw drops, both shocked and disappointed. “Didn’t want to interrupt your fun little session going on here.”

“She knows about-” Kazuha tries to speak, covered by Yunjin’s hand, and stops her sentence.

“You? Us?” you ask.

“Should’ve told me sooner,” Yunjin butts in, unimpressed with a smirk. “I didn’t expect you’d have a headstart with my suggestion.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Mmfph,” Kazuha tries to say, but the press of Yunjin’s hand is a lot more firm. She’s lost her talking privileges for now. This wasn’t even the worst bit of this incident, you think.

You’re sighing, undecided, at a crossroads: two girls on your shoulders with very similar, contrasting perspectives and ideals. Yunjin’s the purest of angels in human form, Kazuha the devil’s advocate living in your house. The thought of you being walked in by Kazuha with Yunjin on your cock was a thing of the past. With Yunjin’s strap filling up Kazuha-

“How do you suppose we deal with her?” You’re asking, playing into the role of second fiddle to Yunjin’s wishes, wherever she wants to take them, burying your nose into her hair and looking down at Kazuha’s eyes light up in excitement.

“I think you can help me with that,” declares Yunjin, and for the thousandth time it’s something you’re following through. “Give this girl a proper work up for once.”

“With pleasure.”

“But first-”

“First?”

Kazuha’s body tenses. “Mmrph??”

Yunjin’s head dips, licking her lips. Her fingers tap the fabric of your crotch. “Not yet,” she sighs, and she’s teasing the pink head of plastic on Kazuha’s folds. “Actually,” Yunjin’s hearty laugh gives you an idea where this is going, and it’s not looking pretty. “We’re gonna have you watch.”

–

Where do you even begin with these two? That’s the golden question.

Think of it this way, a coming of age story would have all the highs and the lows, a sunset drive into the horizon with the top down and music blasting for everyone else to hear, romanticizing both the achievements and shortcomings of each character, tossing snacks to each other and clinking glasses while letting the end credits roll.

Kazuha and Yunjin, however, lock lips at the couch; you’re breathing deep - you’re slipping down the chair, not quite shameful that you’re not in the act.

Maybe it’s the fantasy written up in your head - in its purest form and in real time. The ambiance settling down to a space meant to be locked away; shelved behind a drawer and door, never to be seen in the light of day, exclusively for your eyes only.

Yunjin tilts her head one side with Kazuha on the other, playing along well. Everything about it is down to the last vivid detail: her fingers carding into her hair, gripping, pulling her head up so Kazuha can get more air - slip an arm underneath the arching back and bring her leg up against her heat. You give Yunjin a look when she locks eyes with you, paying no attention to Kazuha peppering her cheek with more kisses and clearly asking for more, giggling as she indulges her request. Their hands trailing all over their unclad bodies, miles of skin between them. They both sigh in relief, finally showing what they cherished the most with each other. There’s no regrets of your actions: you’ve got a piece of Yunjin - what she’s like, same for Kazuha from another period lost to time, but it’s all culminated to this. Soon you’re towering the pair and see the crimson and sweat spread across, willing to have your fill be satisfied by both.

If your sympathy was a knife, you’d turn the blade around and twist it inside yourself.

Kazuha’s hand grips the belt loop, grinning. Yunjin tugs your hand to her face, kissing it. Wraps her plump pretty lips on your thumb. An unspoken testament of what’s to come. The credence of raw, unfiltered, sin.

“Is this what you wanted?” Yunjin asks, very silently. Kazuha opens her neck up as an invitation.

“Oh,” you breathe, softly. Kneeling down at the couch and exchanging glances. “You have no idea.”

(Show me everything. Show us everything, they said, partially devious. How bad your impurities are. We want it all. We deserve it all.)

–

Maybe all of this was the long-awaited culmination; Kazuha’s mind is so far gone, back pinned against the wall like she knows you and Yunjin are about to ruin every part of her body. Clothes are being slipped off your frame, pooling onto the floor and soon to be ignored till the next morning. Yunjin’s hands graze your middle, feeling the hardened muscle - sighing into your neck and flashes a look across.

“Should I know how long you two kept this from me?” she asks, half-curious. Well aware of the answer.

You keep your gaze on Kazuha while pulling your head back - observing, but flicking your eyes back and forth. “Would it be best to hear it from the person responsible?” you say, seeing Kazuha’s face shift from her to yours and unsure who to choose.

“Figured there were signs,” Kazuha answers, lifting her leg up at the crease of her knee, giving an implication. It’s not a pressure point - not yet, at least - an angle where you can jump in and double down on. “If they weren’t obvious enough.”

“Are we seriously playing dumb here?” Yunjin then follows up, twisting her head. “Right now? Of all times?”

“Choose your words wisely,” you’re saying, towering over the girl in your arms - a subtle warning.

“You’ll be a good girl, yes?” Yunjin adds. “Then we’ll see if you deserve it.”

Kazuha snickers, sound bouncing off the hallway, and you and Yunjin both sigh in dejection - though, Yunjin slaps Kazuha’s thigh, prompting you to pin her lower half to the drywall. “I see we’re at a bad start already,” she’s saying, and her arm slithers up to your chest, “you keep acting like this, Zuha, we’re gonna have some issues. Not to mention,” she’s rambling, taking a step back to open the space in flipping Kazuha around with her back in view, arms up instinctually and hips moving back, Yunjin’s arms crossed over her chest with the strap-on in her hand, instigating. “I think it’s best if he takes the first crack in breaking you.”

“How generous,” you tell her, leaning down to kiss the fine line of Kazuha’s spine. “I thought you’d be more cruel.”

Yunjin grins, finger to her teeth. “That’s more of your thing rather than mine.”

“Liar,” you growl, and it’s a small reveal of your true intent, bringing them close and never letting go - your arm pulls Yunjin back in, gasping at the sudden move. Yunjin giggles, teetering into a small moan; you look down and she takes the hint in feeling Kazuha’s ass, listening to the hitched breaths, see the slightest scrunch of her shoulder. “Don’t think that you can hide away from me, either,” And you slap your hand firmly on the fresh skin, Kazuha slipping out a yelp in response - “I know you want your fun as well, baby.” Your thumb and index pinch both of her cheeks, squishing. “Unless you’d prefer to watch.”

“You know me. I’ll have my go if you’re willing.”

“I’m still down here,” interrupts Kazuha. “Why don’t you-”

Here was the perfect time to show Kazuha again what you’re made of - you grip both of your hands to the swell of her hips, pushing them up until all of her chest is flush with the wall in front - her hand flies back to yours; clawing the skin on your arm, your hips-

“Watch it,” you snarl, grabbing her wrist and putting it along the small of her back, hoping to break the tension. Technically, she’s doing the opposite.

She squirms in your hands for a few more seconds, resisting. The grunts coming out of her mouth don’t apply to you; Kazuha’s feet skating across the floor, widening the stance, spilling out pleas-

“Fucking swear to God,” she harshly swears, and you’re with her; Yunjin’s taking another step back, leaning. She can’t help but smile at the authority, the general hierarchy you’re used to giving her. Throwing out orders and demands - Kazuha with her insightful snarks, nowhere to be heard or seen as she’s finally getting a taste of her own medicine-

Both of Kazuha’s arms are behind her back. She’s helpless once you’ve finally got a hold on her.

“How long is it gonna take you to fuck me or force me to watch you fuck Yunjin instead?” she whines, persistent. Her hands cup the sides of your hips, pushing her ass back - you don’t fight it, laser focused on her face. “Didn’t realize that we’re dishing out my punishment like this right off the bat.”

“We’re getting there,” you agree, and you’re palming her breast beneath the shirt, clumping up the fabric - thumbing a nipple and pinching. “Yunjin will have her fun too when I’m done with you.”

You look right at Yunjin and she nods.

She’s keeping herself occupied with the strap-on in her hand, putting her pouty lips on the silicone tip, licking shamelessly and her other hand to her legs - cheeks flushed in a hot pink and eyes trained on you. You’d expect her to watch - let her have her own fun in the meantime. She’s so good; fucking you and Kazuha both, though it’s somewhat on par or incomparable to the roughing up you’re gonna do to Kazuha as a means of staying true to your word. Her tongue laves the side of plastic, lowers it down to her hips, hoping to tease and have that ache sated until her turn comes along to be taken, fucked mercissely, ruthlessly.

You lift a brow for the final confirmation, and Yunjin matches it.

“You can watch of course, baby,” you say, and Yunjin’s face lights up. “Go ahead, do what you need to do.”

Yunjin twists her back to the wall, head tilted while her legs spread wider to welcome the space of the strap-on between her legs - you’ve curled your arm around Kauzha’s hip, rub her clit from that angle, stroking slowly at her leaking slit; so yeah, this girl leaks sex. As for you: you’re eating it up. Knowing that there’s another pair of eyes on you, greedily staring once you get on one knee, place a trail of kisses to the backside of Kazuha’s thigh, bundle up the oversized shirt in your hands. You hook your palms to the fold of her legs, brush your nose in her cunt, taste the droplets on your tongue-

“Are we observing?” You ask Yunjin. “Not the first time I’ve seen you use a dildo in front of me.” Your mouth sucks in the dripping slick of Kazuha’s pussy, earns you a sharp inhale through her teeth. Biting down on one of her folds and pulling. “I wanna see you ruined before I have the chance myself.”

Your gaze shifts back to Kazuha because you know Yunjin will follow whatever you say. Even when your cock is brushing up against Kazuha’s slit, pushing in her pussy and the girl sings a broken note.

Kazuha, by instinct, tilts her head down, overwhelmed, choking on the bob in her throat; all it takes is one firm snap of your hips in and it’s not enough time to get accustomed to the stretch - that deep, open stretch, her cunt pressuring you so tight, addicting - you’re amazed at how she can pick up things quickly, breathing steadily with every stroke, see her eyes at the corners, upping the intensity, twisting her head back forcefully and curve the arch a bit more deeper-

A makeshift ponytail is created without a second thought, locking the stare in and keeping it frozen, failing to maintain composure when she’s moments away from finally breaking in front of you, or Yunjin. Kazuha’s pride is always one thing she holds close. Snuff it out of her and there’s nothing, and she can’t deny it: the way that she’s trying so hard to not be a completely needy, slutty bitch.

“What’s wrong, huh?” you’re taunting - imitating her snark - man, it’s so nice not to be on the receiving end in one of those. “Wasn’t this the punishment you asked for? Well guess what?” You’re grasping at her cheek that it brushes yours. “It’s here, Zuha. Just me, you, Yunjin, and your dirty little cunt, all for us to have.”

“All talk, still,” Kazuha remarks, syllables barely stable. She’s so shrunk down over your presence that when your cock is in play, it splits her body in two, crumbling her: she can spit out words for days, but knows that she’s vulnerable in a fight. “You’re not even putting effort into me. Fucking christ- asshole. Just-”

You can’t help but chuckle - actually laugh, because the insults don’t hurt like they used to back then, that added layer in the dynamic where you’ll take the punch and send it right back. You’re slamming your hips in, press your fingers into her hip; Kazuha can keep giving you shit, but you see her head hit the drywall, eyes lidded and mouth quirked to keep it all in. There’s no point - she’s gushing on your cock, clamping.

“Just what?” You yank her hips out and in, make her yelp at the change in pace. “Stop? Keep going? I can’t tell what you’re asking for and neither can Yunjin.” Yunjin herself lets out a breathy sigh - the strap-on’s worked well inside her cunt, matching the strokes as best she can; at this point, you’re just waiting for her to squirt on the floor. “Could’ve sworn you were greedy a few days ago when I fucked you in the back of the car, don’t lie to me.”

“Maybe.” You slide in - genuinely fucking her. Kazuha tries to let it go casually the way you’re cock’s tearing inside her - you’ll give her the ‘A’ for attempting. That feeling can’t be ignored - she’s close, rising within - it’s in the lines of her face, her body, it’s showing. “Fuck - that’s not the point. I couldn’t be more desperate for your cock unlike Yunjin.”

She’s not saying it for Yunjin’s sake, but also for her own: smiling through the pleasure despite her body nearly shutting down and breaking on your cock. All that ego, that bullshit given all these years, it’s all gone in an instant. It was a pipe dream to fuck the boldness out of her - you’ll come close, but not close enough. You’ll fuck her truly in the way that she wants - and the glint over her shoulder pierces through your eyes. Do your worst, you imagine her saying. I’d love to see you try.

So, you’ll give exactly the worst thing to her. You’ll make her cum on your cock.

You let go of her face, grab her tit before sliding down to her pussy. “Look at you,” you tell her, matching the smirk she gave you on the couch the other day, recalling, “nowhere to go.”

Kazuha parts her mouth, ready to dart back with a witty response - or tries to - rocked with her high so intense that it’s bubbling in her throat, on her tongue. She’s there, thanks to you; Yunjin’s honoring your request, wincing, sliding that silicone cock inside-

She’s up next, you’re not forgetting. You take Kazuha - all the way in, past her orgasm, let her shoulders go slack, breath in thin wisps, hand losing grip and slipping from your sweat, and you’re grinding your cock deep in her - all the way down to the base, where the blowback of your balls tapping her clit, prolongs the feeling - a new sensation; fuck, she feels so fucking good-

“How do we deal this out, you suppose?” You ask Yunjin, breathless, head held high, breaking your gaze and towards your girlfriend. “Should I carry on what I’m doing?” Kazuha whimpers when you’re massaging her ass, slowly driving your cock back in, softening the blow. “Do whatever our little slut wishes?”

You and Kazuha both glance at Yunjin together, slick dripping down her thighs, small threads plastered on your hips, and Yunjin slides the strap-on out of her like it’s a restraint. Kazuha slides off your cock, leans back to your embrace, legs quivering - you gave her a lot to handle, that’s for sure. But you’re not done yet. Not until Yunjin’s got her chance.

Yunjin herself is treated to such a sight, cum soaked on the plastic in her hand, but when you sweep her close she’s already falling: like she knows you’ll catch her whenever and doesn’t have to worry about a damn thing. You’re eying her eyes, those plump pretty lips, her long legs rivaling Kazuha’s, her leaking cunt - she’s shifting in your arm, like one look sends sparkles in her eyes. She’s waiting, patiently - lets you do anything to her without saying a single word.

“Enjoyed the show, love?” You’re scratching the sweet spot behind her head and her neck relaxes. It’s those earthy eyes you can’t get enough of, love drunk and over her head with her switch flipped - hot and crazy in love she’ll want everything. “How does it feel seeing lovely little Zuha finally get humbled?”

“I’ll literally cut your dick off if you don’t shut your fucking mouth,” retorts Kazuha, twisting her neck so she could face you. No matter how much of a pain in the ass she is while getting fucked, she’ll own that role close to her heart.

Yunjin flashes a smile, and you smile back. Coming to a consensus. “Not enough for her, sadly.”

Kazuha takes advantage for once, hurling your body against the hallway now, and making you shuffle back past the open door to the room. Yunjin fails at the mediary with her chin on her shoulder, pushing her weight so that the ratio is two-to-one. Both of their eyes are insane, glittering crystals and with a primal ferocity behind them - holy fuck, is it sexy, moments away from victory. Backing you into a corner where there’s no opening for escape.

“Make you eat your fucking words out,” Kazuha says, voice unfazed when she just came on your cock a few minutes ago, “Better hope you won’t get the chance again.”

“Careful Zuha,” Yunjin butts in, hoping to alleviate the tenacious threat. “You wouldn’t want to get on his bad side again.”

“What she said,” you remark - leaving it at that for now.

“Okay then,” Kazuha tuts, grabbing your face for a kiss, clawing your hair, soothing it. “I’m tagging Jen Jen in.”

With that, Yunjin pushes Kazuha off to the foot of the bed and topples over you, claiming her prize.

There’s a passing of the torch in the form of the strap-on - Kazuha takes it and wiggles on the bed - while you’re wrestling for control with Yunjin, grasping her waist and flipping her over so that she’s under, fingers in familiar spots where you’ve left marks and bruises before - ready to it again. “Guess you’re up,” you mumble - feeling the knuckles of Yunjin’s hand on your face before she fiddles with the cuff of your ear, pinching. You’re surveying the planes of her body, targeting the areas where it’ll hurt. “You could never have enough of my cock as it is.”

An instant curveball when you slap her inner thigh twice, flip her over and slap her ass, then roll back to her cunt.

Yunjin shrieks - Kazuha inhales deep at the sound when she pushes the strap-on in her cunt. You smack again, put your mouth to hers and funnel the noise down your neck. This was new to the script, and you’re certain it’ll stay.

There’s no other pretense to act on, and you bury your cock inside her cunt.

She is fucking dripping; given the mewls and moans petering out of her mouth, your ears focus on the sweet sound of slick as her pussy takes all of you, stretching and sliding in the ways you made her break, the noises heavenly, a symphony alone as you get back into true pace - you’re fucking her cunt so hard that it’s almost snapping her spine in half, or make her lose the feeling in her legs. Ah, you’re just treating yourself - possibly. Kazuha’s fucking herself right next to you two and has a front row seat of the one in many acts about to unfold-

Her pussy is incredible - that’s just the jist of it, the meaning already written to existence long before you came along, Yunjin’s just huffing along, the size too grand to bear-

“Good?” You know for damn sure it’s good. Her neck is a nice place for your hand to rest, siphoning the remaining air trapped in her lungs. The last gasp for more, taken away. “Yeah, you know it’s good. Same kind of sluttiness I expected with Kazuha. What would I ever do without you - getting off with your cunt and fucking you as I please. God, baby- it’s so fucking tight down there, I could never-”

You’re left speechless when you abruptly pull out, slap your cockhead along her clit and she’s gushing everywhere, spraying the sheets, squirting in mere seconds. Kazuha drops her jaw in shock, ecstatic, amazed-

“Kazuha’s in her own world, and she’s living in it,” You snap your hips, yank her body, sending another aftershock - your hands will never leave. “It shouldn’t be this easy, babe - the way that you’re just one, insufferable, cocktease-”

Yunjin crunches her eyes, and her lower half subconsciously rolls with yours. She’s one to have her moment, but the way that she’s just taking it - so fucking well-

“This strap couldn’t fill her enough,” Kazuha chides. And that’s the daunting realization - it’s one thing to keep things mundane, by the book, but this: the degrading, the power going to your head, the advantages you seized for yourself, you’re speaking listless shit and giving less of a fuck for your own benefit. “Now you got a taste of your own medicine, honey. All that talk about having all of him when he clearly has sights for others. Now he’s got me to deal with if you’re not around; and look at him, he’s really greedy.

Yunjin’s sobbing, tears seeping at the corners. You’re close - everything in your body expanding and rushing to the peak - but her scared expression makes you think otherwise, spares a second thought.

“Do you believe that, sweetheart?” You grit, releasing your grip around her throat, leaning for a kiss and it brings her back to life. “Tell us how it feels.”

Kazuha’s scooting closer, the silicon impaled deep in her cunt, tapping her clit at a fast pace. She’s conservative, yet so smug that it’s rubbing on Yunjin instead, the build up is there, voices rising, crescendoing-

“It’s so good, so- fuck, so fucking good,” she spits, mouth trembling and the rest of the words are in tongues - and you’re sure that you’ve broke her once again. “I love this cock so much - I can’t even begin to describe how well it fucks me, taking me just to dump your cum, come back for more - please, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-”

On instinct, she taps your thigh. A signal to let you know she has a different play in mind.

You snap your gaze back to Kazuha and she immediately takes the hint, a wicked grin spread on her lips to sell the implied message.

From there it’s a simple one-two, a bait and switch. You slide out of Yunjin’s well fucked cunt and swoop Kazuha’s legs, pulling her over to you while Yunjin staggers back on the bed, taking the strap-on tossed to her so she can simmer down the aching heat engulfing her stomach. You don’t even register the quick inhale Kazuha does when you seamlessly slip back inside her waiting cunt and pick up right where you left off with her - and the screams level with the incessant slaps of skin on skin.

“Back for more, are you?” Kazuha grunts, sucking in her gut from the pull on her shoulders and into your cock. “Such a shameless boy.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, whore.” You’re bearing no mind to the word sputtered out. The only thing in your head is taking your roommate’s pussy and making it yours. Nothing more, nothing less. “Gonna ruin this cunt now.”

“Hold still and look pretty,” demands Yunjin, and she’s on Kazuha’s side, strap-drunk as Kazuha’s head tips back and slides her hand down her abs to her cunt, watching you fuck and fuck and fuck into Kazuha - wrecked and full of your cock, like you needed this to relieve the stress out your body, and Yunjin’s face twists to something more evil, twisted, witnessing a prophecy come to fruition-

“Look at our cute cocksleeve go.” Yunjin’s fingers tap your forearm, nails clawing curves into your skin - the sting going unnoticed as the thrusts keep moving - another sense acquired, you’re sweating, overheating. “I’m sure he came in you already, and guess what? He’s gonna ruin your tight cunt and fill you up to the brim - when we’re done with you, you’re gonna have to be carried around the house-”

Kazuha cries and cums on your waist - Yunjin sits up, fingers fast to the crease of her legs, surprised and seeing it all unfold. As for you, you’re tensing, gritting teeth together, cumming inside her cunt, the release sought after now tumbling in true bliss-

“Oh, no. We can’t have you be that loud now.”

Yunjin waddles over on her knees to Kazuha’s head, angles her head, and pushes the plastic cock between her lips, smothering with her own spit - see the bob form in her throat when she takes it halfway in.

You’re still going, pulling out and sliding your tip across her folds, soaked in white and convinced that there’s more for you to offer. The strokes are consistent, long enough for another minute or so until you’re spilling a second load in her walls, pumping her full.

“God, fucking- Jesus. Kazuha-”

“Mmfrjmph,” she’s got herself full of other things to worry about than your leaking cum in her pussy.

“Jen, switch.” You give the order and your girlfriend drags her hips away from Kazuha’s face. From the second you pull your cock out, white strips start to drip onto the sheets. Your mind’s barely there, putting every fiber of muscle from the nerves to get you at the headboard of the bed and settle into a comfortable position - and Yunjin flips Kazuha over, hooks her hands to her hips, dragging it towards her crotch, she managed to get the strap-on in time, pointing the length to her cunt, picking up small ribbons at the tip.

“Think she needs a little clean up before you have your fun,” you suggest, fingers buried deep into the threads of Kazuha’s hair and forming it into a lazy bun, ignoring the little ‘ah’ from her lips and focusing her head on your softening cock. “Unless you’re gonna jump right in and get sloppy.”

“You’ve made my point beautifully,” Yunjin agrees, lowering her head and raising Kazuha’s hips up so she can get the taste of both, pushing her back down and deepening the arch with a lick of her lips. “You taste good.”

“Are you saying that to me? Or Zuha?”

“Whatever answer you like.”

Kazuha, as always, refuses to pay attention. Rather- her attention is drawn back to your cock, tongue sweeping the underside, your head falling back and hitting the wood behind, feeling her mouth lap up the mess of your cum slicked cock and slide your hips deeper into the mattress. This is heaven for her, for Yunjin too. A truce made once the damage has been done-

“Don’t go too hard on Zuha, she’s been through a lot.” you tell her, but it’s more of a blessing in disguise when you and Yunjin are on the same page in most cases. A girl like Kazuha on her hands and knees, a collective effort fulfilled.

Yunjin cackles and there’s no further meaning there, the tone sweet, syrupy - you could get drunk on it every single time her face brightens up. She’s leaning over to kiss you, arms wobbling in support so that she doesn’t fall on top of Kazuha, and it’s happened before. “Aw, well that’s too bad. I was gonna give her that and nothing else,” she tells you, smacking her lips off of you. Her hands rest at the swell of Kazuha’s waist, kneading and slapping lightly as a light tease. “You think I can’t hold my own.”

You’re seeing a warble in the room somewhere - on Yunjin. The outer line of her stature warps in your vision - hot, messy, maliciously - jerking Kazuha’s hips back and brushes her hips to her ass.”

“Yunjin, fuck- holy shit-”

Kazuha gasps, smiling. The babbles are complete gibberish, filthy - Yunjin’s ramming her strap inside her ass, cum being pushed well into Kazuha’s womb, poking a little bump in her stomach, speeding up the motion and clawing wherever she can. Kazuha swallows up your cock, brushing the head at the top of her throat, humming - the vibrations bringing you back to life-

“She’s built for taking pain,” Yunjin assesses, experimental. She has no regard for her best friend - and you see the whites in Kazuha’s eyes roll back, her lips sealed at the base and understands where she lies between you two. It’s where she’s meant to be, it seems. You could drop witty drawls and creative comebacks; when it comes to fucking her, neither of you expected her to this soaked. “What a slut. Not even a proper dick-down and spanking can’t shut you up.”

Kazuha’s slurps mesh with the words. “I - mmrfph - fine, I swear. Okay-”

It’s somewhat comprehending to have her like this, split in two and mouth full of your cock. “Yeah, she’s good. Kazuha- Kazuha, baby.”

There’s nothing better than this.

Kazuha getting her hole fucked, sucking you dry.

She sucks.

And sucks.

“If there’s anything that we’ve learned,” Yunjin says mid-thrust, pointing Kazuha’s leg up to the ceiling, deepening the angle, “We both can fuck her brains to mush if we wanted to. Any time in the day, just pull her aside and tell her what to do. What do ya think?”

You’re nodding, stuttering. Kazuha’s mouth has you speechless. “I have no objections,” you barely say, thighs tensing and shaking. “Yunjin, I’m gonna cum in her mouth.”

“Then go ahead,” Yunjin tells you, and you do. Kazuha cheeks puff up at the eruption, streams of white leaking at the corners, satisfied.

Yunjin gives one more good thrust for measure, slides the strap-on out of her fucked cunt, exhaustion collapsing her body, pleased and content with her end of the bargain - the strap-on gets tossed off the bed and onto the floor, made well with its use and disregarded.

She rolls over to your side soon after, glancing. Kazuha’s face clearly spent and drifting off to sleep. For the time being.

–

“We might’ve killed her,” you tell Yunjin peepingyour head past the door frame to see Kazuha’s unmoving body on the bed, “Is it worth checking if she’s breathing?”

There’s the last remnants of what unfolded hours ago, the quick debrief - that kind of thing. You’ve got your head full of mixed emotions; each one of them occurring in passing seconds: happiness, satisfaction, remorse - unsure and nervous, kind of, it’s been a long night anyway.

(She’ll wake up in the morning and feel sore. But if her first words of the day are related to bearing you, that’s a clear sign she’s back to normal.)

“Kazuha’s a good catch,” Yunjin says. “If anything, she’ll complain about her thighs being tight.”

“In relation to her pilates?” You flip the cup over and let the water flow into the drain. Yunjin’s patting your face with a damp towel. “Or the sex?”

“Both,” and she smiles. You purse your lips in agreement. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect you to match her energy well.”

“How could I not? C’mon, the girl was asking for it.” You laugh dryly.

“Point taken,” Yunjin concedes and opens her limbs to let you in the middle, wrap them around and embrace you fully. Her borrowed shirt crumpling in, folding and forming creases alike. “You’re too good at this.”

You give her a fond grin. “Wanna tell me that again?”

“No.”

“No?”

To suffice, she slots her lips to yours, leans back and taps the bathroom mirror. “Okay, it’s past our bedtime already.”

You find yourself slipping through the chestnut pools and the titian waves - an endless valley to get lost in, the light radiating perfectly to where it highlights and complements the shades well. You’ve said a lot of things to her, more than you can probably count.

“Love us,” you’re proclaiming, preaching to the open air. Her dragged grin pulls you deeper, and you spot the scrunch at the bridge of her brows: she couldn’t agree more. Then it reverts back to normal: “lose the shirt, we’ll share the body heat under the sheets.”

–

The first day with drastic changes beckoning are scary.

This is nothing new.

Starting from scratch, conceptually, is always a new brush of inspiration, no matter what the event is. Luckily, it’s reassuring that you’re not facing these new horizons alone. With a guy like you, that has wonderful people in your corner - willing to support any endeavor you indulge in, it’s empowering. You’re convinced that the clouds part in the sky for the sun to fill the endless canvas of blue and you feel that whatever’s manifested in your mind will eventually come true.

You have the same old pattern with Yunjin: take her out somewhere nice every now and then, waste your time doing nothing on some days, hold her heels or bag without her asking, let her treat you well whenever she feels like it. You share the usual banter, fuck her if things get boring, give her a lot of things to deal with that she’ll brush off later.

With Kazuha, it’s a dice roll:

She still spits out shit to you with no reason, and you return the favor and fuck her till she begs for more, gets into petty arguments until she comes walking back without saying a word, unable to take compliments, rambles endless fantasies waiting to be fulfilled more than just once. And you accept that she won’t let you off easily.

When the two of them are together, sitting across from you or on their knees; backs on the bed or one eating out the other's cunt, it’s a place of a guaranteed connection; one that’s massively fucked up and with a million ways to go about with the pair. You and Yunjin know this - and between the three of you, it remains unsaid.

“Got everything?” Yunjin asks, handing your trusted tumbler and ruffling up your hair, dusting off your windbreaker like a mom seeing off their child for school. “Expecting a slow day, aren’t you?”

“You know me,” you drawl, grinning. “I’d much rather waste my time here and get paid for it.”

The back of your head nicks forward as a response from behind, looking past your shoulder to see Kazuha tilt her head in view, getting a closer look of your appearance and drawing up her own assessment. “Until one of us get another job, it seems like you’re the main breadwinner of the household.”

“Zuha, him and I were expecting your half of the rent for this month,” says Yunjin, hand to her hip and pouting, “Wanna tell us where the fuck it is?”

Kazuha sashays herself next to Yunjin, inciting a staredown that ends after two seconds, shaking her head and dodging the question entirely. “Don’t worry about it. But I have the money, I swear.”

“And what if you don’t have it when he comes back?” Yunjin asks Kazuha, rolling her eyes before shifting her gaze back to normal, “Then what?”

You’re making your way out as the two continue with the quick argument, disregarding their attention. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll be heading out now.”

“Can I fuck her again while you’re gone?’ Yunjin then asks, shouldering her weight to Kazuha. “At least until-”

You sigh.

“I’d like to ask the same question, but do it on Yunjin,” Kazuha replies.

(It’s a lot on your plate with Yunjin. Sure. Kazuha’s added herself to the mix - and it’s a tad bit more complicated. Maybe worse. Fuck all you know: you like them both.)

“I’ll handle you two later,” you’re telling the pair, and they know you mean every word - a promise. “Feel free to get started.” After, you see yourself out the door.

#le sserafim smut #yunjin smut #kazuha smut #le sserafim yunjin smut #le sserafim kazuha smut #kpop x male reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic

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