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tonycries · 3 months ago

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STRONGEST - G.S.

Synopsis. The strongest. The most feraI. Gojo Satoru’s powers aren’t the only thing that goes out of control after a battle.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, fix-it, Shinjuku showdown, Gojo wins, established relationship, FÉRAL Gojo, Gojo’s powers, ínnapropriate use of jujutsu, oraI (fem. rec), fíngering, limitless, pússydrúnk Gojo, máting presses, overstím, rough s, he’s a little bit ínsane, brief male mast., size kínk, tummy buIges, squírting, cervíx kíssing, p sIapping, making him whíne, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.2k

A/N. I’m Gege I say this is canon mhm.

BIoody. Broken. Breathing.

Only that last one came from Gojo Satoru— the sole person in the entirety of Shinjuku’s ravaged battleground that was.

Twitching, he could sense sorcerers rushing out of their hiding spots to inspect the disintegrating, blob-like form of the former King of Curses before they even moved. Others sprinting medical instruments towards Fushiguro’s sprawled-out - alive, Gojo made sure to keep his boy alive - figure.

Not many dared to step towards the strongest, who towered in the midst of the chaos.

After all, it was only Itadori who could grit his teeth and force himself to walk through the waves upon waves of magnetic cursed energy radiating off of his teacher. Bulldozing, gasping- “G-Gojo-sensei!”

And all at once, the power ceases.

For the first time since the showdown started, everyone could finally breathe without the pressure of over a thousand sorcerers emanating from the body of one man.

That is, until Gojo snaps his eyes behind and mankind flinches. “I need my wife.”

Oh.

By destroying one monster, they might just have created another.

You didn’t want to be here - you couldn’t.

Planted prettily like some prized porcelain doll behind the countless wards of the Gojo Estate, its location so classified that it wasn’t disclosed to even you.

You knew why you were here; your husband may be the strongest, but that didn’t stop Ryomen Sukuna from being the most treacherous. And in the unfortunate fate where he might’ve - heavens forbid - won, it was obvious that one of his next targets would be you.

A war prize for a war-bringer.

Your chest tightens at the notion, and you’re struggling to manually lug in smoggy pants- no, that couldn’t happen. Fingers seconds away from shattering the dainty ceramic bowl of tea that you’d made out of pure nerves, it couldn’t.

“Damn higher-ups.” You’re hissing into the now-frigid drink, and yet it still blisters down your tastebuds. Almost as much as the memory of those orders to stay put lest you wanted something to happen to Gojo’s precious students. A warning. A threat. “Leaving me here to rot- fuck, when I get out I’m going to kill those ol’ toads- oh!”

Your sip of tea was a tightened ball of lead that simply refused to go past your larynx– and your brows furrow as the pale glass slips like water flowing between your fingers.

Tumbling. Shattering a puddling splash on the tatami-covered floor below.

And yet, you don’t even remember weakening your grasp - almost as if the cup was magnetized towards the edge of your decadent bedroom.

“I must be going mad.” You’re muttering to yourself, feeling even more so as you do. Shaking your head to some semblance of clearance, you crouch down with a sigh to pick up the chipped shards-

Only to find that the ground was trembling.

What…the fuck? Urgently smoothing the mountains of your palm flat on the firm mats below, it felt like something was thundering. Rampaging.

Something was happening.

You should run, you should surrender.

But you stay rooted to where you are, feeling the tips of your ears tingle with a whirrrr of energy clashing against energy, a monstrous sort of crackling power in the air. Tummy tensing as the ancient protective jujutsu of the estate bends and bends and bends - generations of power that snaps!

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.

Right in time with three sharp, repeated raps from behind the paper-thin sliding doors to your chamber.

Impatient.

It certainly couldn’t be one of the elders, they’d no sooner left you here to brace the impact of Sukuna’s looming victory and die rather than keep you company. Perhaps one of Gojo’s students? Shoko?

The King of Curses himself?

Squinting at the yolky outline of shadows drawn by the setting sun, your heart soars at the shape of those familiar broad shoulders and unruly hair.

Ones you could never mistake.

“Sa…Satoru.” You’re breathing, voice strangled as if not even your own words believed you.

Your calves sting with the impact of your running before you even register it- Satoru. Satoru was behind this door. Satoru won.

Almost out of breath once you reach the entrance, it’s all you can do to startle out a happy chuckle as your finger knot on the lattice handle and draaaag it open– “Sato- oh.”

Except…the man behind the door wasn’t your husband at all.

At least, not a version of your husband that you knew.

Because the Gojo rampant at the door was slouching, heaving.

Loooong, rasping breaths that made the mahogany doorframe clutched underneath his tense white knuckles crack into the tiniest of splinters. Every second wheeze fills the air up with so many charged atoms of cursed energy until you could barely even move.

Skin-tight black compression shirt torn in a jagged scratch right down the middle, billowing white pants tattered and sagging until you could almost see a few curls of creamy white. Could see allll of his washboard abs.

It looked like he’d clawed through hell himself just to take you there with him.

As your mouth opens and gapes wordlessly, your husband takes - well, more like stumbles - a singular step towards you that makes the expensive mats underneath break into a crater.

You’re catching the way his meaty thighs tremble through the cracks of his trousers, a singular dewdropped bead of sweat trickling down the side of Gojo’s flushed temples - almost as if he’d…run the entire way here instead of his usual teleportation.

Breath bated, your eyes cross over the lines of his sculptured deltoids to look at the destroyed mess of the hallway leading up to your room. Only your door was left untouched.

So he did run.

“Oh- Satoru.” Your voice drops into a sweetened tone unknowingly, and that makes Gojo stiffen with a hoarse breath.

With every pretty sound falling from your mouth, the sweltering hot atmosphere sizzled so many temperate degrees higher, until your skin was humid with power and want and power.

Instantly fighting against the rigid air to close the distance, all you wanted to do was hold him. “Are you- are you okay- what happened-”

And then Gojo lurches- as if he’d just been struck with your presence and it had electrocuted him, until he’s raising his eyes up to meet yours and-

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Never in your life had Gojo Satoru looked at you like that.

Heavy lids only half-open, the semi-crescents of his pupils so dilated that they shone Stygian black, tendrils of miniscule blue lightning shoot from the corners of his gaze as Gojo fights to keep his long lashes from fluttering shut.

He looked ravaged.

The very instant you’re thinking of inching yourself closer to wrap his bruised body in a long-overdue embrace, he’s flinching.

Like he’d read your very mind.

And maybe he did, because in mere nanoseconds, Gojo’s kissing you and kissing you until you’re tasting everything iron and him-

Fuck, you couldn’t even stickily part your lips from his plush, puckered ones to breathe without him letting off a pained grunt. He’s so engulfing. “My wife.”

You’re gasping at the pressurized layer of power that sticks to him like a second skin - and it fights, yearns until you’re being pressed flesh-to-bloodied flesh. Drinking in the scent of candy and something metallically sharp, “Satoru.”

A few calloused fingers tighten ‘round your tender throat so that Gojo could drink all those cute wailing whimpers of yours.

Crushing you to his toned front, you weren’t sure if your fingerpads were digging into his chiseled shoulders out of his magnetism or pure greed. Still reminding yourself to be careful of his injuries-

“You-” Words warbling like never before, the crowned edges of your digits skim his undercut. Struggling through loudly snogging crashes of his lips, “Wh-what happened? Can you stand? Does it hurt somewhere? Do you need me to-”

“My wife.”

Oh…

“My wife.” His parched throat slackens to suck on your pinkish tongue like his favorite candy, “My wife-” Ivory lashes trickle your cheeks, and suddenly his honed canines nip your wobbly lower lip. Tugging sensually, “My wife.”

He couldn’t get enough.

“T-Toooru–” Your maw slicks with a thick gloss of spittle, and Gojo immediately catches the dangling strands on the flat of his lecherous tongue to laaaap it up like he was a man who’d been dying of thirst for eons.

“Need you.”

And it was the way he said it - so low, strained. A guttural groan that sounded almost like a growl, spat right through Gojo’s clenched pearly whites.

Devotion and power overflowing so much that he simply had to have you. He had to.

Silky locks of ivory brush your sweat-simmered forehead, “My wife- you- need you.” He’s snarling against your tightly smeared lips, almost as if stringing together coherent sentences had wrenched out whatever was left of his control, too.

In only two flaps of your shocked lashes, Gojo’s trailing his hotly opened maw down your neck. Fangs dipping right near your throat to feel the way your pulse pounds. Power thrumming underneath his touch, air stifling– “Need you always.”

Your lips buzz at the sheer cursed energy flowing through him, vocal cords too smoky to produce a proper noise, “Need- Toru–”

But the strongest didn’t need you to struggle out your words right now.

He’s widening his blazing sapphire peripherals once your weakened legs squeeze almost unnoticeably together. Nostrils flaring slightly and-

Ah. There.

Gojo Satoru knows the exact moment that particularly gummy droplet of slick escapes from the crevice of your throbbing pussy - because he can smell it.

Oh, that heady, hypnotic aroma that has your husband collapsing onto his knees in front of you with a resounding CRASH!

So hard, so rough that you’re wincing at the way his very own limitless flickers and falters to make Gojo’s capped knees bruise against the floorboards. Ground now shattered underneath his inhumanly strength- “Fuck- Toru- you just came back from-”

But any and all shrilling words evaporate on your tastebuds, replaced with the tangy excitement of having him loll his head drunkenly between your jittery legs to sniiiiff–!

“Neeeed you-” He’s croaking out, oh-so-raw. Your spine works as a runway for your goosebumps as he’s letting his cherry-pink lips twitch up into a sleazy grin. “-my wife.”

Perhaps it’s your melty brain trying to make sense of things, perhaps it’s Gojo’s teleportation working in overdrive - because one split-second you’re slouching your weight on his sturdy figure to hold yourself standing, and the next you’re being splayed out on the cool tatami floors like such a slut.

Gasping, head swimming.

The moment your legs fall open with a slurping pop! already talking from your oversaturated pussylips, you huff. “Did- did you just teleport us onto the floor, Satoru?”

“Teleport?” He’s barely removing his glassy pupils from the adorably damp spot peeking from between your legs. Gojo’s eyes flicker with faint recognition as he airily looks around like he wasn’t even sure how he got here.

All pinning you to the mat with one massive palm clung onto your hips, shuffled downwards so that the scorched breezes of his breaths hover over your clothed cunt in muggy lil’ gusts.

It takes your squirming buck for Gojo to finally, finally realize his position and startles out a shocked chuckle, like he himself didn’t even realize whether he teleported.

“Are- are you okay, Toru–?” You’re breathing out, concern rippling the rational part of your brain.

Jostling back your satiny skirt to bare your slick-sheened inner thighs to the chill air, Gojo only halts his laughter to answer - airy, about five octaves higher than you were used to.

“Do I look okay, sweetheart?”

Fuck.

You didn’t doubt that he wasn’t.

You were fucked.

Because the very second Gojo tugs down your skirt, “Fuck- fuck.”

“Toru, do you need h-” And riiiips it straight off of your hips to take a good - good - long look at the sodden, see-through underwear flimsily bunched at your quivering pussy, his half-opened eyes quiver shut.

You can’t even complain about your skirt being limited edition because Gojo just looked so ruined. And you were addicted.

Icy brows furrowed, jaw ticking, you’re watching speechlessly once he’s taking another deeeeep inhale. Pecs constricting, the curvaceous edges of his smirk dapples with a slight geyser of drool at the sweet, sweet smell of your cunt.

“Fuuuck, my sweetheart- my wife.” The flesh of your inner thighs clam with a thin layer of perspiration at Gojo’s reverent whisper. Taking in yet another deep breath- “All mine.”

And there’s something so primal in the way the edges of his sharpened teeth come snagging down on the thin layer hiding your pussy. The very slimy tip of his tongue grazes that slight moistness of your panties and the man finds himself snickering.

Gnawing down on the fabric– you don’t know if he realizes, you don’t know if he even cares that he’s teasingly nibbling on one of your plump labia.

“Missed you- missed this- fuck.” He’s only making his mouth grow more waterlogged, his teeth toyin’ and grinding near your aching hot pussy– Gojo slurps up another taste of you and his hips come humping down on the firm ground. “Missed her.”

Before you know it, Gojo’s superhuman reflexes have hooked a slender finger underneath your panties and he’s tearing them. Biting them. Clean off.

“T-Toru!” You’re squealing, your dripping hole slopping out yet another splosh! of sap at the act. Your heat races as your husband lazily trawls that translucent skimp of fabric up, up, up over to give it another drunken gnaw–

Groaning, “Oh, my wife-” His darkly predatory gaze snatches back open at the cloying dredges of syrup that tack onto his tastebuds, wide. Wild. “My wife- my wife.”

There it is again, and you’re just about opening your mouth to ask about his sultry little mantra- before Gojo’s bullying out every syllable in the back of your throat with a sudden, firm push of his tongue - flopped out right where your folds were leaking the utmost.

“O-oh my ngh- god!” Your dewy lashes moisten because his probin’ muscle was just so big. And he was never this urgent before, this hurried.

Never this filthy.

Gojo only nuzzles your flinching thighs further to give you such a sinful view, gawking at the way his bubblegum-pink buds spread wiiide open to act like a lil’ road for all your ribbony wires of slick. Every puddling bead slipping from where his tongue was plunged inside you n’ down to the target of his throat, “O-oh.”

Oh?

And Gojo was stuttering, just one taste of your soaking wet pussy and he’s letting his high cheekbones burn a bright blossoming red. Hips bludgeoning forwards to press his aching, heavy bulge into the floor.

He was a man gone.

“So sweet. Wet- s-so wet.” He’s sucking in a few breaths before veering up a single hand to plant a rude spank right on your soaked lips.

And imagine the strongest’s raw, carnal delight when that only makes your saccharine cunt even wetter. So drenched that your globs of slick were gathering on the point of his chin and formulating a slick puddle.

Voice wavering, stuttering. Almost like he couldn’t even believe it even though the evidence was clinging and dripping from his very maw, “So…wet. Like a waterpark- dessert- oh…So wet- f-fuuuck s’she drooling f’me? F’me?”

“For you- o-only for you.” You’re whimpering as his hand comes slamming down again.

Slap after slap after slap, until you swear his fingertips were starting to buzz with power. Speckles of pearly sheen flying from the knobs of his fingers and straight into his parched mouth.

“Ohhh don’t say that- don’t you say that.” He’s warning, “S’gonna make me- make me…” Prolonging the crown of his tongue to take more of you and stretch and stretch inside your elastic cunt. “Oh- fuck, m’fucking you-” Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with a gasp– he’s tasting you. He’s really, really tasting you now. “-I’m h-haaaa…fucking you.”

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, Satoru you’re being so…”

Insatiable? Depraved?

“Can’t stop-” Comes out his ragged gulps, wanting to coo at your cutely twisting expressions and yet unable to even bear the thought of breaking his lewd French kiss with your cunt. “Can’t stop, sweetheart- fuck!”

He really couldn’t. Swabbing ridges of his tastebuds just keeping on swirlin’ into the tenderest spots of your gummy walls, and Gojo’s tongue is so long that every thrusting push past your snug hole leaves you feeling so dizzy.

You’re sucking in a sharp inhale, “T-Toru-”

Faring worse off, he couldn’t even speak.

Instead of an actual answer, the only sign that shows he even heard is one of his visceral flinches, as if just the way you said his name was enough to drive him crazy.

The scratchy tip of his tongue scours in a welcoming heart right where your hole was and playfully back - no hesitation, no shyness.

“Puh-please, Satoru–” He was fucking into you now. A great big helping of saliva slobbers down the side of your mouth, your foggy pupils starting to circle at just the exact tempo of his dipping tongue.

The only thing you’re able to let off is the wetly glistening gush of another clingy wave of sap. Swashing Gojo’s swollen lips until they’re soaking wet, your fingers scrape their way through his sweat-matted strands. Babbling, “M-more.”

And there you said. There.

You knew the instant that those strained syllables ripped from your throat that it would not bode well for your poor pussy.

Because Gojo’s Herculean shoulder muscles tense, lengthy lashes flapping, and you wonder if he’d stopped fucking breathing.

Not even the slightest gust of air leaves him as he’s wafting his eyes to your teary ones in shock– “M-more?”

You can’t even tease your dear husband for the way his husky bass was cracking at the very ends, because simply repeating the words makes his cerulean irises spark with bolted lightning. Staring dead-on as he keeps muttering away to himself—

“More?”

You’re mewling as soon as his fat wad of spittle strikes your heated core, slimily slithering straight down your puffed-up lips.

Just the sight of your glistening entrance so vulgar that, without even a second thought, Gojo’s once more surging his lips against your other pair until his pointed chin. So hard that he’s slapping the base of your treacly pussy until his skin’s all delicate n’ raw.

The curved ends of his jaw slipping n’ glissading up and down while his tongue sliiiides in.

“More-” He’s half-giggling to himself, the straight line of his nosebridge crushing your perked clit and sending your spine sparking. “More more more more- my wife- hah!” You swear you feel the cute crater of his dimples press against the skin of your thighs. Drooling, he’s crooning– “My wife wants more.”

And it’s the last thing said before your eyes blotch pure white with a sheer rummaging stretch. Wider n’ wider - not only was Gojo snaggling your leaking hole open with his tongue, he was adding in his long fingers, too.

The nearly six-inch length of his middle finger tucking between your slick-stained folds with a thundering squeeeelch–!

“Want more- gonna get it-” You can make him uttering in a gravelly tone against your swollen lips, grunting. Repeatedly swervin’ his padded digits back n’ forth, “-gonna- gonna get it.”

“Toru- Toru oh my god- fuck, s’too good-” Your knees tremor weakly as they bend in the air, head tumbling backwards as your eyes roll to the dark depths of your skull.

“Raise.”

It’s all you hear before a scouring tendril of cursed energy curls around your neck and your head is being forced to tilt upwards and stare deeply into Gojo’s dimly-lit eyes. Ravenous.

You didn’t even think that he had the ability to do that, but with the way he was ruining your cunt from the very inside out you wouldn’t be surprised.

And you think this might be the dopiest you’ve seen Gojo’s pretty smile. Something that would be so completely endearing if it wasn’t for the way that his azure eyes were flickering with cursed energy. “N’ let me ruin you, my wife.”

It wasn’t a promise - he was already doing it.

Barreling the tippy-tops of his two slippery digits so far deeply into your g-spot that you’re drooling. A wave of spitballing drool flapping from your gluey lips, “Are you- Toru are you- using Six Eyes?”

Fuck, that’s what it was.

That had to be it - he’s treating the treasure trove of your sweet spots so meanly. Like a lil’ dartboard that he’s carving out the exact spheroid circumferences of his fingertips, again. And again. And again.

Until his manicured fingernails were leaving that lil’ bundle so overstimulated that even the merest, slightest graze had you weeping out in slicked drool.

You’re crying out by the time that Gojo’s tucking the edges of his tongue inside your gaping entrance with three girthy fingertips - sweat-sleek brows knitting as he pushes and pushes against the resistance.

Doubly filling you up, and it was such a stretch that it left your hip restless.

“M’n-not gonna hck! last, Satoru.” Your lips pucker into such a cute sob, the melody of it going straight to the plump, aching tip filling up his pants.

He’s rasping, mouth barely giving the time of day for anything other than making out with your creamy pussy. “Cum.” Urgent, rapid strokes of his fingers like he was dragging that stormy high from you. The faster his sloppy movements were becoming, the more crazed his eyes were becoming. “Cum.”

And even though you were too dumbstruck to notice it now, Gojo was so feral for your leaking pussy that loose pieces of furniture in the room had begun to clatter.

Torrents of cursed energy zipping down to his fingers and concentrating there, “All f’me.” Breaths hoarse with belated pants, he’s groaning when the bzzzz–! of power on your battered g-spot makes your back arch prettily.

Like a perfect bullet vibrator that was precisely and never-endingly whacking your favorite area, faster. Sloppier.

So, so filthy.

Gojo was already widening his eyes and letting his spit-adhesive lips crack into a wild smile by the time you’re trilling about your orgasm - because he knew. Oh, he knew.

His Six Eyes could see it coming from a mile away; the way your heart was racing in a pitter-patter that matches the flicks of his narrowed tongue. Every sopping slap! making you clench your scalding insides ‘round him instinctively until it was almost difficult for him to press back against the mushy recoil of your g-spot.

But the strongest always got what he wanted.

And what he wanted was you cumming right now, your nails clawing adorable crimson rainbows all down his shoulders, his neck. “T-Toru- cu-cumming- ngh! M’c-cumming, fuck fuck fuck–”

Gojo would throw his head back and moan if it didn’t mean moving his rovering lips away from your pretty pussy.

“No- c’mon c’mon c’mon- wanna taste. Need to taste-” He’s letting you ride your peaks of euphoria out on slobbering drags of your hips. Face crinkling, his free hand darting up to cushion your tempo with reverse cursed energy so you won’t get too tired n’ stop.

He wouldn’t have been able to handle it if you did.

Wouldn’t have been able to bare- “Again. Again-” Slapping down a hand on the slick-shined inners you’re crying out once the energy-capped crowns of his fingers inch dangerously towards your clit. “Taste- on my face. All over my face, alright?”

He didn’t just want you to cum - he wanted you to squirt.

“O-oh my god, Tooooru!” Your mouth clogs up with both spit and sultry whines, heels starting to dig into the dimples on Gojo’s sexily flexing back. “M’so sensitive, dunno if I can-”

“No.” He’s cutting you off, and you almost startle. A dull thud! emanating from where his v-line angrily hits the floor in a grindin’ push, another sparking spank punishes your sobbing slope. “No no no no- have to. Wanna taste- think m’gonna die without it.”

Practically begging on his knees right now. And if you thought that the vibrating sensation of his fingerpads were bad, then you surely weren’t ready for the way that Gojo’s lacquering his sizzling tastebuds over with a flimsy layer of energy.

“C’mon- c’mon c’mon c’mon–” His reverse cursed energy bolts mindlessly from the left hand attached possessively to your waist, and you’re tearing up all over again with a fresh batch of salty tears when that thrumming tongue of his flops over your driveling hole.

The textured vibrations just felt so good that it was making your mouth flap sappily open, you’re sure that the only reason you could even think right now was because of his reverse cursed energy.

Circlin’ your fleshy folds, where your plugged-up hole was being thrashed with all his pummeling fingers, then up, up, up to your twitchy clit.

Gojo’s nimble muscle was drawing circles- no, hearts. No, a cursive T-O-R-U ♡

He wasn’t even trying - didn’t even have to - to let buzzing bursts of power flicker at your cunt. So teasing on purposeful, those shockwaves were making your thighs twitch with bliss each n’ every time. Every part of him.

“What does that saaay?”

“Toru- Toru” Right before you throw your head back and get steamrolled by your high like never before, such a crashing, blissful wave. “I-I’m…”

You don’t even have to finish your soft gasping moan because your squelching pussy does so for you. In the loudest, rawest sluuuurp that Gojo laps up gratefully- a drink made especially for his dry throat.

Ears popping, skin all tingly - you can only slouch your legs further open and take it.

Stringy, wadded splashes of syrupy sap that escape out of you even if you tried to stop. “Gonna fuck-” He’s grunting, throatily. Ruminating growls locked away in his chest, he spits into your fluttery cunt. “-gonna fuck you- fuck you so good.”

You’re so wet that Gojo’s finding himself soaked-through all the way from the tips of those creamy white curls by the shell of his ear down to his chin. A round goblet of slick glues to the sharp line of his jaw and makes a slithering trailway doooown his bobbing throat.

“S’here-” Letting go of your hips, he’s pointing to the mouthfuls of you that fill up his sloppy maw. “Down, down–” The very tip of Gojo’s lecherous finger points a pathway doooown his pale, handsome neck, “-down. All inside. Finally got ta t-taste ya, sweetheart.”

You’re still blinking back the full vignette of your vision by the time that your husband’s pulling his dexterous digits out with a noisy squelch!

Letting the proud layer of juicy slick smear all over your pussylips once he’s giving your cute, quivering clit a lil’ piiiinch. “And m’s-still thirsty.” He’s grumbling, grinning. Watching as your mouth falls into an awe-struck ‘o’ when you feel his buzzing cursed energy flowing through him again.

“Toru- fuck fuck fuck–!” It takes every ounce of strength in your body to lift yourself up onto your elbows. “Want…” You wanted him - namely that aching hot bulge you could peek at if you angled your head just right.

And even pushing your trembling thighs together doesn’t do anything to falter Gojo, because he’s simply pushing himself deeper between your gooey legs and gasping. Not for air, not for a breath, but for another taste of you.

Poking down the mushed tip of his tongue until he was pressing on your buttony clit. Hard. He’s seriously happy to die a death suffocated between your pretty thighs, “But why–?”

Walls clenching needily, you shoot your hand to clutch the strongest’s angelic hair and pull–

“Fuh-fuck–!” Gojo’s dizzy head falls back, breaking off from your syrupy pussy with such a sinfully wet pop! Through your tears you see his right hand shake, quiver down between his trousers.

And it makes your mouth water greedily to watch the schwf! of tattered fabric motioning back n’ forth as he’s grabbing his rock-hard bulge and thrusting. Angrily. Furiously. “Look what- look what you did- what you- ngh!”

Before you know it, Gojo’s clawing his free hand somewhere in the air hovering above you - all that it takes for him to snap his jujutsu powers and help draaaaag you down like some glorified doll.

Charred breaths labored, his meaty knees clatter on either side of your body. So urgent that you wonder whether it doesn’t hurt him to scramble up your figure this way, alllll up until you’re finding your face straddled by a heaving Gojo Satoru.

“S’your fault.” He’s grouching out in a gruff tone, and you’re taking the moment to just fully admire him in all his sinful glory.

Skin-tight clothes still hanging off of him in tatters, back oh-so-arched, and his expression– oh, his expression almost made you regret pulling him away from your cunt.

With a rosy blush flooded all the way from the tips of his ears to the back of his perspiration-glossed neck, heady gaze practically shuttered, lips dripping wet with all your essence still. A few glittery spatters of it slobber down from his cheeks to hit your own face once Gojo lets his lips fall into a soft oh!

Wheezing, “S’your…” You can only gape as he’s tugging down the ivory hem of his pants just enough to let his swollen, heavy cock free. “-fault.”

He was throbbing and big, flinching from the very tip of his lollipop-red cockhead just as soon as he’s feeling the cold breeze of your bedroom. Gojo’s biceps flex sexily as he nudges the moist skin of his tender shaft against your left cheek and pumps.

Sloppy.

“Didn’t have to be s’fuckin’ sweet-” Gojo hisses through gleaming clenched teeth, your blinking expression too gorgeous. “Didn’t have to be- so- ohhhh– m’gonna marry you. M’gonna marry you m’gonna marry you.”

“Toruuu–” You’re cooing out, gazing as he’s biting back into a snarl. Drooling strawberry orifice sprinkling a wispy jetstream of white, vulgar. “-we’re already married, baby.”

Fuck- and then he’s cumming.

He’s cumming and cumming so much that Gojo’s overworked brain half-wonders when he might stop. The rounded curve of his ballsack squeezing with every elongated ribbon of seed that he’s letting out- more once he catches sight of the way it glissades in a sheeny polish down your features.

Steaming hot and aching, just as much as he was.

“Th-there’s so much, Toru-” You’re whining when the salted caramel flavor edges near your tongue, every fat goblet of sap positioned exactly to drool down your face. “-Toru?”

Gojo was on cloud nine, and you didn’t even know he was even listening to you.

Only letting out a dreamy sigh, the knobbly curve of his thumb comes brushing down that pooling slick mess he was making on you.

Giggling - giggling, “Whoops.” He’s prodding over those webs of seed past your poutily puckered maw, purposefully gliding his fingerpad alllll the way down your wobbly bottom lip. “-missed a spot.”

You’re ogling with an ajar mouth once he glistens it over like some sultry lipgloss, you just looked so beautiful like this that Gojo feels his heart race. He feels his breath hitch, his wide length throbbing-

“Oh.” He hiccups, still sensitive with the shivering wracks of his high. And Gojo’s gaze hastily flickers behind him - to his second favorite pair of lips, after your mouth, of course. “Missed a spot there, too.”

Whatever shred of practicality left in him promises he’ll make it up to you later, he’ll take it slow and make mind-numbing love to you later. Much, much later, but for now: you’re being pushed against the bouncy mattress of your bed.

You gasp, “A-again? Toru you-” Faltering weakly for just the slightest second when Gojo corners you on the bedcoils and rids of his shirt. All pale, chiseled muscles and power for daaaays. Fuck, he was so hot. “-do you even hck! realize you teleported us?”

The only answer he gives you is a savage grin, voice dipping into just deepest territory as he muses. “No.”

He didn’t. He really, really didn’t even register it when his powers were thrusting you into the bed and making the bedroom lights flicker once he all but tears off those damn overlarge pants.

And then he gets closer.

Cornering you, a soft pant of shock lets off from you at the faint scars and cuts decorating those familiar muscles of his toned front. “W-wait, Satoru, are you feeling-”

“What? This?” With the click of his fingers, most of those bloodied injuries fade into obscurity. Leaving only a few scars and the remnants of reverse cursed tingling in the air. “Now ruin me, my wife.”

“Fuck…”

“Can’t think.” Gojo’s rasping voice wafts over your lips, making sure to draw out a wet sluuuurp when he suckles on your white-topped maw. Tasting you, tasting himself. His eyes flare madly wide, “-don’t want a-anything but you…”

You’re squirming sluttily at the faint bolts of lightning that decorate his creamy skin, flickering down from his eyes- down to where his ravaging cock was hanging low between his thighs. Slapping a wad of drooling precum on your inner thighs.

Gojo was so big and hard that you could count every ba-dump–! his ruby crown was thumping against your poor bloated folds. Squelch after squelch, you got the feeling that he was repeatedly rubbing his chubby tip just to drive you mad.

“Don’t have- condoms.” And Gojo could merely lift himself off to grab those familiar foil packets in that bedside drawer - hell, he could even teleport himself there.

But doing so meant that he had to be away from you and this cutely drooling cunt of yours. And though you didn’t mind if he went in purely raw, Gojo had another idea in mind.

Whimpering, “Then give it-” Gojo’s breath catches when you buck your hips impatiently, “Need you, Sato- fuck!”

He was never one to disappoint, of course.

Your eyelashes flap tearily at the sudden snagging streeeeeetch being pressured between your glued pussylips. Gasping, struggling to take a look and-

“S’gonna work.”

“I-it’s not.”

“It will.”

“Won’t- mmpf–!”

Pushing and pushing to try and fit the limitless-capped ends of his length into your tight hole. “Gonna-” He’s poking the reddish tip of his tongue between his teeth in a way that sends shivers down your spine, “-gonna work. Trust me- hck! Trust me, sweetheart.”

If you thought you’d ever gotten used to the maddening girth of your husband before, then you sure weren’t ready for right now.

For when he’s coating his near-ten inches, thick inches with a layer of crackling limitless. Forcin’ your poor entrance even more full, the pointed corner of his head slips once more between your sandwiching lips and Gojo growls.

“Fuck- fuck!” In both your carnally muddled minds, you’re barely registering the way something in the bedroom shatters. Sounding halfway through tears, “Not even the tip- Gotta fit- s’gotta. I have to.”

You’re whining with every rutting push, “Wh-why the hell are you so big, Satoru–?”

“Shhh m’gonna make it fit- gonna hah- make it.” He’s urgently soothing you with a big hand on your forehead - not just to caress your forehead, no. Gojo’s clawing your sweaty crown and pushing you down onto where his bulky length was pulsating. Desperate.

And the smooch of his boiling hot length was so wiiide that your vision is shattering into something bleary.

Pupils rolling until your eyes were only pure white, you almost don’t catch the rippling forearm being planted right in the middle of your line of sight. “Bite.” Gojo grits out, tension ticking. “Bite.”

So you do - hard enough to draw blood, and that’s exactly the way he wanted it.

“Yeah- yeahhh jus’ like that.” He’s groaning underneath his breath once you’re gnawing, letting off the prettiest noises when Gojo keeps pulling his hips back and forth. Like some animal, he’s dolloping out a slimy topping of pre on top of your cunt and rutting– “Take it.” Somehow easing in his ridiculous length, “All of it, like my g-good wife now. All-”

And he meant it.

Slamming his toned hips so hard into yours that sparks - literal, powerful sparks - are sent flying from his body. Pants raspy, maw slackening, “Where is it?” Roaming his eyes rapidly down your body, your skin prickles with atoms stood on edge. “Where- fuck! Where am I…ah. H-here.”

“Here?”

“Here.” A trembling, vibrating finger of Gojo’s comes drifting absent-mindedly up from the start to your folds. And the deeper this fat, vein-covered cock was bludgeoning in - the further his digit was drawing. “Here- m’riiiight here, sweetheart.”

It’s only then that your saccharine brain thinks to understand that he was using his Six Eyes, targeting the sight where his swollen cock was probin’ around your sweet insides.

“Watch me- watch me get deeper.”

You’re watching with an unfastened jaw as Gojo precisely draws where his bulbous tip was smearing out your walls to their maximum. Subconscious, short jabs back and forth back and forth baaack and forth.

Just to fit inside.

“S-shoooo deeeep–”

“Not deep enough.”

Stupidly prattling with every knock of his size. Gojo was so damn big that you didn’t even need his outlining digit, your goopy innards were already bulging with his size. A bumpy cylindrical outline that only went deeper, deeper-

“-deeper.” Gojo rests his woozy forehead on top of yours, just as ruined as you. So close now that his chiseled abs gliiiide down your front, “F-feels good, huh? My cock so ngh- deep- my limitless. So, so…deep.”

And it’s at that very second that once your husband bottoms out, that he breaks.

SLAM!

His sanity, his palm collapsing down to splinter the headboard, and limitless. All at the same time.

Hours and hours later, you’ll both be told that there was a suspicious spike of cursed energy in this area during this exact time. One so strong that it alerted almost every sorcerer in the territory.

But right now you’re too focused on the way that Gojo’s mushy, furiously leaking tip was crashing head-first into your sponged cervix. And suddenly it’s not just the airy feeling of his limitless, it’s the feeling of you.

Warm and wet. So so wet.

It’s then that Gojo gnaws down on his rosy, trembling lower lip and stalls. It’s then that he’s scrunching his eyes to stop the outpour of power. It’s then that he gasps–

“Didn’t work.”

Letting out a high, wild bout of laughter that makes you wonder just how high the kill count would be.

Confused, “Wh-what?”

Gojo only removes his hand from the bedframe to reveal a scalding handprint exactly in the shape of his, a few shards of wood falling onto the floor.

“Didn’t…work.” His voice was hard, rough. And there was a jagged tone to them that you hadn’t ever heard before- “It didn’t- work- fuck fuck fuck- didn’t work. Didn’t work didn’t work.” All that he could even think to bellow out in moans every time that Gojo rocked his hips thoroughly. “And I…you…”

Running out of the fucking syllables, he’s letting go of your scalp to fully throw both of your legs over his shoulder and buck. So soft.

“S-soft-?” You’re making out through your pressured eardrums, clinging onto Gojo’s broad shoulders for dear life. You almost - almost - miss the way that his mouth drops, shit- he said that out loud?

Well, now that he started - Gojo couldn’t stop.

Spitting out nonsense between every jackhammer- “Y’feel s-so…soft.” He’s continuing on in an airy tone, gripping a good handful of either side of your hips. So strong that it barely take even a fraction of his strength to jostle you hip n’ down to meet every thrust, “So…sweet- fuck! Even sw-sweeter without a ngh- condom.”

So fucking looooong that every jackhammer from the tip of his geysering divot to his hefty hilt felt like it took ages. Your toes curled helplessly every time he was stirrin’ your insides right up to your cervix, crazed.

“M’really hitting her-” His breath fans your face in steamy gusts that humidify your skin, “-really, really can feel her.” Peking you once, twice, thrice. “Kissing you- kissing her-” A slam to your cervix, “-there, too.”

You’re letting off mumbled whines of something that sounds like “yes!” and “Toru!” as Gojo slows his craving pace down just a tad to splash out a stringy drawing of a heart right at the bottom of your pussy.

Long, thorough digging drills that bruise his exact circumference size, “N’ m’seeing her- seeing her take me so welllll, oh…deserves a lil’ treat.”

Too nervous to think about what he would consider a ‘treat’, you’re shoving your face into the clammy crook of Gojo’s neck and biting. Leaving him just as rawly red and stinging as his cock was, the action was enough to make him nibble his bottom lip.

Babbling, “Yeah- yeah, a t-treat. A treat for my good girl- my wife.” You’re feeling it before you register it, that stickily sweet buzzzz–! of cursed energy coating Gojo’s fingertips.

He unabashedly drags it all the way across your hardened nipples - giving just a lil’ pinch - down your tummy, that bulging outline he was fucking into you, down.

Until Gojo had his sparking fingerpads locked around your throbbing fat clit and refused to let go- “You like that? Yeahh fuh-fucking like that-” Hiccuping, every new roll of his hips plapping against yours made him twist your perked nub just the way you liked. “-like seeing me like this? Th-the strongest fucking you like this?”

“Yes-” You’re sobbing out, your hip gyrating lewdly upwards in tandem with his. And it makes both you and the ancient bedsprings sing in unison when Gojo reaches so deep, “-like it, like it- ngh! Love it.”

Oh.

If you thought that Gojo had nothing left to lose at this point then you were wrong, because with a rummaging spank of skin-on-skin, he’s probin’ a kiss so deep into your g-spot that you can almost taste Gojo’s candied caramel flavor.

Swiveling his hips just right to maze his lustrously crowned head into that filthy, filthy target. Thumping veins bloated enough to circle your elastic walls and make you remember each lightning bolt pattern.

Pulse leaping through your mouth, your head bangs backwards into the plush pillows, “There- there, Toruu–!”

“I already know.” Fuck, did he know - and he almost wished you could see the way he could with his Six Eyes. Just how lecherously you glutinous walls were bending to gulp him up straight into your plush g-spot. Every whack thrashing dead-on into that bullseye, “There- there. M’right there- fucking you right there.”

He was pounding into you like he was crazed at this point, and with every white-hot star of pleasure bursting behind your eyes, you could feel yourself sinking further into the cushy bed.

“-the bed, huh?” If you were in any better state of mind, you’d have been wondering about the fact that your husband seemingly had the ability to read minds.

But even Gojo doesn’t seem to realize.

A simpering smile falling over his features as he hoists your boneless legs further up his shoulders - locking them with a simple curl of his cursed energy. Before bending down, down, down until you’re all folded in half like a lawnchair and helpless.

Completely at the mercy of his sloppy, spanking cadence, “S’what I k-kept thinking about- ngh- a-allll today.” At just the mere mention, Gojo’s throwing his head back with another wave of excess power.

“R-really?” You’re questioning cutely, and he’s forced to concentrate on a lil’ patch of limitless on top of his weepy crownhead to stop himself from fucking cumming right then, right there.

“Thought about you- ngh- your lips. Your smile.” That explained why he was so ravenous, biting back grunting whimpers at the throbbing clench of your melty walls - molding ‘round his barreling girth. “And your…pussy.”

“S-so filthy, Satoru.”

Your features crinkle with a tiny, blissful twitch - so faint that you almost don’t even register it.

But Gojo does.

Fuck- of course, he does. He’s slouching forwards until the drenched tufts of his stark white happy trail scratch your already-buzzing clit. Until his superhuman senses can distinctly make out every slurring mwah-! being pulled out from your soppy folds, nodding along as if in conversation.

“Yeah- mhmmm–” He’s tittering at your starstruck expression, kissing away the clumps of dumbfounded drool splattering from your lips. Gojo squeezes the bullet vibrators of his fingers harder ‘round your clit and lets his eyes glow once you squeal, “-knew it. You’re close, my sweetheart.”

“I-I am?”

“Mhmm—”

And his Six Eyes was never incorrect.

Within only a few more vulgar, touching strokes you could feel that familiar tightness at the bottom of your tummy. Gojo’s giving your cunt another good spank to keep your legs twitching, “C-close.”

“Yeah? Yeah?” Taking on that maddened tinge, “Gonna cum- gonna cum f’me.” He’s giggling into your open mouth, letting a few oodles of spit let slip. “Can tell- so close so lose that- ooooone—”

Your hips jiggle hysterically up into his feverish pace, chasing your high with every uncontrolled thrust. Every spark of power– “Two- two.”

“Twoooo–” He’s calling out after a confirming glance downwards with his Six Eyes, manhandling your restless body pliably. Spattered specks of sweat hit your chest when he’s aligning his tip for once last crash into your tenderest spots. One. last- “Thr- fuck–!”

Right on time. And it wasn’t just you crashing into your high, it was Gojo, too.

Every bedroom light shattering, loose furniture hovering copious inches.

Gojo was like a monster, his skin decorating with sparks of blue lightning after every long, aching bout of overstimulated euphoria that make the strongest’s famed eyes blur with big, fat goblets of tears.

Whimpering - whimpering - in muffled noises as he fucks you full with a roped, creamy sap. It knocks around your deepest insides and pushes up in fat wads against your cervix, that little puddle swashing around to and fro with every pump. “Milk me- yeah yeah milk me.”

He’s fucking and fucking you until his rock-hard cock rubs red n’ raw.

Your own high simply zapping tingles by now from the arched curls of your toes up to your sweltering head, Gojo slides his puffy veins just past your g-spot and your legs go weak.

“P-pleeeease–” You’re mumbling through streaky cries of your own, the feeling so filthy that you didn’t know whether you wanted more or to crawl away.

Before a splat! of something wet and viscid on your shoulder jolts you out of you reverie - and only then do you realize that Gojo fucking Satoru was drooling.

“Don’t you fucking run.” Before you know it, both Gojo’s handless cursed energy and his own right hand curl around your throat to draaaag you back into his ruthless hips.

His shivering thighs against yours, the stony ridge of his v-line grinding into your stinging ass cheeks just so. Gojo’s pounding you so full of his seed that you feel oh-so-sluggish, “But- but Tooooruuuu–” You could already feel every ounce of blood in his body rush to make his cock twitch, dangerously. Oh. “-a-again? More?”

It’s like the very word is enough to make him jolt. “More?”

“Will it even ngh- fit?” Your lower lip juts out into a pout, feeling the gluey mess of syrup sticking your thighs together. A few gumdrops of pearly cum already pouring out of your sheened hole and dripping right down onto his base.

“Well…” Gojo’s peripherals were so very hazy now, and they take their languid time falling to the cumflated bulge he’d jackhammered into you. Chuckling - pitched high, he’s plugging those escaping ribbons back into your milky pussy and licking off the excess. “-how many?”

“Wh-what?” You’re gasping as he leverages the hold at your throat to spit the mess right back onto your tongue.

“How many kids d’you want, hmmm-?” Gojo purrs right back, nuzzling the sweat-stuck side of your face. He’s whispering into your ear, “Because my Six Eyes tells me it h-hasn’t taken-” One thrust, and just about millions of angels and stars flashing behind your lids. “-yet.”

Reversed curse technique was just seeping out of Gojo, and for a second you wonder what time it was. What day- sore arms wrapping around his neck, you’re muttering your answer.

And he only chuckles– “B-because- limitless void, my wife.” And there’s a soft breeze of cracking energy washing over you - soft, loving, and so Gojo. Twinkling eyes drifting meaningfully to your humming cunt, “-m’gonna make you my ngh- cum…dump.”

He…did he just- your eyes widen, he did. Abusing that limitless void on your bawling pussy…oh, how it made you clench with need.

Power having him crazed.

The bedroom air prickles with a gush of energy so thick it makes your skin burn slightly, and makes Gojo throw his head back with a whine. A whine.

Eyes ablaze until only its faint bolts and the dusky sun were your sources of light right now - yet, little did you know that none of Tokyo had power, either. None of its wards. None of Japan.

The surge of power so ridiculously high that your comfy bed was sagging on one end, furniture unruly, the flowers of the estate’s gardens blooming.

He’s letting go of your skin with a faintly steaming handprint, breath catching at the mark- Gojo similarly guides his own zapping fingers to brand your own steaming initials on his v-line. Electric. Twitching.

“N’ who knows…” Giving you a probin’ dig of his swollen, ravaged cock, your husband grins. “-maybe I'll summon my haaaa- clones for this next round.”

A/N. Also I know most of y’all probably don’t celebrate but happy Sinhala and Tamil new year! Smooching all you lovelies <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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mechazushi · 6 months ago

Text

My brain took a few days to cook this up for you.

"I swear, I could do this routine backwards by now." Kafka complained as he reclined back against the ledge of the building they were stationed on.

The first division was running team training tactics in the practice grounds today. Him, Narumi and Kikrou were placed in a superior location on top of a building overlooking their team's flag. While Kikoru was peering down her division issued scope she placed in a wide crack in the building's roof ledge, Kafka was right next to her, watching Narumi make a fool of himself flailing his arms around in a stupid TokTik dance.

Narumi had made an account a while ago as a joke, mainly to fuel all of his crazier fans saying they wanted fresh material for thirst traps. After his account blew up, he found out that Soshiro had made one too, and was gaining followers a lot faster than he was. The two of them were now engaged in a bitter, unspoken battle for the most followers. Well, Narumi was anyway. Soshiro just kept up appearances mainly to antagonize Narumi more.

"Just leave him be. He'll drop it soon enough." Kikoru responded, more focused at what was happening at the other end of her cross hairs.

"Not with Vice Cap being effortlessly better at it than he is." Kafka snorted.

"Don't let him hear you say that." Kikoru smirked as she sniped an intruder from across the map.

The two of them listened to the music repeat a few more times, with Narumi's grunts of irritation getting louder with every pass. It was starting to look like he was having a problem getting the timing right.

"Every time he repeats that damn song, it makes me want to photo bomb him 'till he gives up." Kafka grumbled as he shifted his arms to his chest.

Kikoru pulled back from her gun from a moment as her eyebrows flexed in thought, "We could do something a lot more interesting than just photo bombing him." she said as she turned to him.

She leaned over more as Kafka matched her position, making sure her words were safely traveling into his ear. His eyes widened as he listened to her devious plan.

"We can't do that! I don't wanna hurt him." Kafka whispered harshly, but couldn't hide the smile creeping onto his face.

"Come on! His shield hasn't seen any use this fight. If you aim right, you could land him at the enemy flag and force him to participate." Kikoru giggled quietly.

The two of them looked over at Narumi, who was still oblivious to their machinations. They briefly looked back at each other and nodded in unison, silently agreeing to the plan. With a quick check with the scope to make sure this wouldn't cost them, the two of them slowly got to their feet and carefully crept up behind Narumi. Right about where the song changed to the most important part to dance to, Kafka dove down and grabbed Narumi by the leg and waist, shifting his weight through the stance and quickly threw their commander's limp body over and far away from where they were stationed. Not missing a beat, the two of them jumped into action, swaying and popping their limbs to the beat. When the song got to a good stopping point, they held the last pose for a second. Kikoru broke away first and giggled manically as she bolted for the phone, pressing the "Stop Recording" button.

"Quick! Post it before he gets back!" Kafka yelled as he went back to the building's edge to watch for signs their prank might end too soon.

"I'm trying! I'm trying!" Kikoru answered back.

Needless to say, when Narumi got a hold of them, they were heavily reprimanded using his mountainous backlog of unfinished paperwork.

▼△▼△▼△▼△

Narumi angrily munched on a lobster flavored potato chip as the short video replayed on his phone screen. It had only been a day since the training video incident, but Hoshina had seemed to have come up with a way to take it and bruise his ego even more. Somehow, he had come up with a compilation of taped moments of Kafka appearing in the background of some videos from his and other people's and made a thirst trap out of them. Hoshina then paired it to the part where they had interrupted his own short and layered it with some obnoxiously high quality editing.

The worst part of it all wasn't the fact that it was now Hoshina's highest liked video, but all the accounts in the comment section he recognized were devout followers of his account. They were now commenting about how amazing it was that they finally found out some information about that "Hot DILF" that showed up in the background sometimes. Narumi understood that people could have more than one preference, but they could at least have the decency to use an alternate account? Don't they understand how damning this was to his mental state?

Just as the part where Kafka lifted the hem of is shirt to wipe his face during that one time when he was training in the gym, the man of the hour walked into the break room Narumi holed himself up in. He aggressively glared at Kafka over the top of his phone, staring so hard it could shatter glass as he made a cup of instant noodles. He even felt the familiar itching that arose when his eyes flexed and flowed into a higher state of sight, like it wanted to break the offending kaiju-man down to his most basic parts and incinerate them.

The video on his phone caught his attention again as he saw that it had started over from the beginning. Flicking his gaze between the two forms of the traitor, a half-baked plan started to form in his mind. Clicking a few buttons, Narumi linked the video he was watching to the one he was making.

"Yeah, so... it's safe to say that, uh... the vice-" he put a lot of unnecessary emphasis on that word, " captain's video about an old subordinate of his hasn't, umm, gone unnoticed. I checked a few of the comments and I saw how -fucking- many of you wanted to know more about the guy." He tried to hide his irritation about the issue, he really did, but anyone that knows about Narumi for at least over a minute could tell he was fraying at the seams over this.

"So, without further adieu, I thought I could be nice and answer some of the recurring questions I have found in the comments section." he said with a deep breath.

"First off, for those of you that can't read the fucking description, his name is Kafka Hibino." It was at this point that Kafka threw a glance over his shoulder once he heard his name. He didn't make any move to investigate further, but Narumi was sure he at least had his attention.

"His basic ASL information is that he's currently under my supervision at Division One and currently, he's my subordinate. That means if you want him, you gotta go through me first." he said with a fake, flirtatious wink.

"His sex is male, and as far as I've heard through the work grapevine, possibly somewhere on the rainbow. If you catch my drift." This time, he pointed a finger-gun to the camera. Kafka was now fully aware of what was being said and had abandoned his mid-paperwork snack to watch Narumi with wary interest.

"And uh, his age?" Narumi asked himself as he got up from his seat and casually strode over to Kafka, " His age... is THIRTY-TWO. Ya'll are thirsting over a THIRTY-TWO YEAR OLD MAN." Narumi slung his arm over Kafka's shoulder forcefully so he could be dragged into the camera's frame, " This old bastard is literally the oldest man in any division. I actually can't think of any division that has anyone older in their ranks. And this is the guy you crown as Fuckable material?"

"Now, hold on just a second-" Kafka said as he wrestled himself out of the weak arm lock, "I am not the oldest! Literally every department head is much older than I am! And why the fuck should my age have any problem with whether or not people find me attractive?"

Narumi angled the camera so that it fully faced Kafka and made his voice sound muffled as it came from behind the phone, "I meant, like, foot soldier level. No other division has a person in the ground division that's as old as you are. And it doesn't change the fact that you're so old and-well, I'm assuming romantically inexperienced, to the point that it gave you fucking superpowers. Which, on its own, is pretty depressing."

Kafka gave Narumi the dirtiest sneer he could as he picked up a coke bottle from the counter, "Listen here, Sir. I don't know what kind of game it is you're trying to play here, but I don't take kindly to you trying to spread wrong information. Because for starters, You're a Captain and that is both wrong and illegal. Second, that's not what gave me powers and you know it. And third, does this look romantically inexperienced to you?"

Kafka then brought the unopened coke bottle close to his mouth and stuck out his tongue. It became very obvious very quickly that the length of his tongue was unnatural, especially when its needle-point tip wrapped itself around the plastic bottle lid. With very little effort, the tongue cracked the lid off and almost teasingly spun it off the bottle. Still using the tip, Kafka took the cap off and brought it into his mouth before spitting the cap across the room directly into an open trash can. The camera quickly spun around to face a very pale and shocked Narumi, leaving the phone slightly shaking in his hand for a few seconds.

"So, uhh..umm. You-you're not s-supposed to show off your powers-uhm... live? On camera." Narumi said quietly as he nervously licked his lips.

"Is... Is that not a recording?" Kafka asked nervously.

"Well, I mean, technically? It's more of a... I-I'm live streaming..." Narumi stuttered back with the camera still facing him. There was a tense pause before anyone responded.

"WELL, GUESS WHO'S FUCKING PROBLEM THAT IS?" Kafka shouted as he launched the open bottle of coke at his captain, drenching his head in the sticky drink.

A series of events when by quickly. First, Hoshina paired together the clip of Kafka opening the drink and its immediate aftermath with a nearly minute-thirty long recording of him laughing so hard he fell to the floor. Second, Narumi and Kafka were both stuck in separate meetings about cyber security and steps to take to prevent this from happening again. And finally, a massive outpouring of desperate women (and some men) all commenting and reacting to the video. All of them fell in to the same line of questioning; That being-

"Can I have his number?"

Well I call it a Saturday well spent.

Who need errands anyway.

#okay so not COMPLETELY related to the post at hand.#But I have been DESPERATE for content about Kafka's Kaiju powers hitting the internet and it generating a LOT of unnecessary attention.#And for someone to unexpectedly drop the concept of monster fuckers on him.#Like- if this is supposed to take in a nearly one-to-one recreation of OUR world-just with Kaiju attacks-#then there has to be a fucked up community of people that want to “ride” the kaijus #and become positively FERAL at the notion that one walks among them.#This might also be in direct... Honor? Retaliation? Parody? of my country's TikTok ban. (The whole thing is stupid and I'm staying out)#But yeah #Narumi and Hoshina having dueling TokTik thirst trap accounts only for Kafka to step in and take all the attention just 'cuz he's a Kaiju.#might have also been partially inspired by sanjispussyindulgance's tag about Kafka's new hourglass waist.#and I just felt like there's not enough content about Kafka and Kikoru having silly Father/Daughter time.#cranked this out in under a day WHOOO!#back to the thing I'm supposed to be working on...#Edit: I just realized I put down Division Three instead of One.#I'm so used to implying that he's at Three so it's weird to think that he actually had a stint at One.#He's probably going back to Division One after this current fight is over now that I think about it and that's even weirder...

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miedei · 6 days ago

Text

bringing you back to earth

a stressful day has you running to clark, and he knows just how to set you straight.

a/n: more superman hehe i have so much motivation all of a sudden

cw: clark kent x fem!reader, established relationship, smut mdni, comforting, thigh riding, praise, pronebone <3, finger sucking, putting r in a headlock, he's soooo nice and soooo horny

wc: 2.3k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Bang.

The door shuts harder than you intended, but you can barely bring yourself to wince. Feet aching, you kick off your heels, shoving them haphazardly into the shoe rack by the door. Roughly hanging up your coat and bag, you shuffle into the living room in socked feet.

Your head’s killing you, a hand drifting up to rub at your temple. It’s like you have no awareness of anything around you, exhaustion narrowing your focus until all you can think about is this no-good, shitty day.

Clark looks up from his spot on the sofa, and the weight on your chest lifts for a moment, but everything still suffocates. He can tell immediately, of course he does, lifting an arm to beckon you over as he puts away his book.

You pad over without preamble, collapsing like a pile of limbs in his lap. A soft sigh leaves him, chest rumbling against yours as he rearranges you, biceps bulging as he lifts you into straddling his thighs, pulling your arms over his shoulders.

There’s silence for a few seconds, Clark gazing into your eyes as you look off into the middle distance, mind stuck on everything but this moment.

He squeezes your waist lightly.

“What is it, baby?”

It takes a beat, but the words slowly come.

“I don’t— I don’t know why I’m all… like this, but…”

He rubs an encouraging hand up your back, bringing stinging to your eyes.

“I just had a shitty day. That presentation to the board was all messed up, the projector didn’t work and then I think they all got an email because they weren’t paying attention, then my manager gave me so much to do in like, less than a week, and—”

The all-consuming pressure starts up again, and the words dry up.

Clark’s hands have migrated up, cupping either side of your face with a tenderness that makes you want to melt into him, if you could. His large thumbs swipe away the tears that drop to the apples of your cheeks, bringing a soothing heat with them.

“Oh, honey…”

He’s more than experienced with all of your moods, but this one has only come up a couple of times in your relationship. When you get like this, stuck too far in your brain to be able to crawl out alone, you can be coaxed in different ways.

“What do you need? I’ll give it to you, anything.”

He lowers his forehead to press it against yours.

You might need slow comfort, a bath with his searing-hot chest against your back. Or you could want to stay still, listen to his breathing until your quickened breaths slow to match his. Otherwise…

“Can you… Can you fuck me? Please?”

The plaintive request is followed by a heartbreaking sniffle, and he all but liquefies for you.

Right. Sometimes you need to be overwhelmed by him, so much so that no other thought can even penetrate your mind. You need him to take the reins for once, to let you ride it out until even the notion of stress evaporates.

He can’t lie, he relishes when you let him take care of you like this.

“Yeah, baby. Of course I will.”

Just the assent seems to relax you a little, your shoulders dropping just a little from where they were nearly touching your ears.

A rush of pride runs through him. Knowing that he can have such an effect on you is a heady, intoxicating feeling.

With a kiss to your temple, you feel his hands slip down to your thighs, wrapping your legs securely around his middle. With a soft grunt, he maneuvers up off the sofa, fingers tightening indulgently on the plush of your ass over your slacks as he guides you both into the bedroom.

For a moment, all you feel is the warmth of his hands on your body, his hips against your pelvis. Once he lays you back on the sheets, you’re yearning for him, for him to get you better.

“Please, Clark, want you to fix it.”

He nods down at you, laying his body over yours with careful precision. You love the feeling of his weight pressing against the length of your body, but you know he’s being cautious, making sure enough of him is braced on his elbow and knee so he won’t crush you.

“I will, just gotta be patient. Can you do that for me?”

His words have slowed, the enunciation much more pronounced. It causes your back to straighten subconsciously, your body reacting to his implicit command without a thought.

The room quiets until all you can hear is the drone of downtown Metropolis outside, and Clark’s slow, measured breaths. His hands have started to wander, broad, sweeping strokes up and down your side until his deft fingers meet your waistband.

“Taking off your pants, sweetheart.”

You nod automatically, hips raising so he can pull off your slacks and panties in one go. His mouth has lowered to your jaw, lips brushing over the sensitive skin, making you shudder.

“Want your shirt on or off?”

It’s muttered against your jaw, teeth scraping softly against you after his question. You need a few seconds to process it, but your answer comes quickly.

“Off, please.”

He nods his assent, fingers slipping under your shirt and pushing the fabric up your chest. Raising your arms before he can ask, you allow him to shuck off both the shirt and bra, leaving you bare below him.

His hands get to work immediately, greedily grabbing handfuls of flesh wherever he can. Groping at your chest, your stomach, your thighs, your thoughts follow him, reacquainting yourself with your body.

His mouth has returned to your jaw, travelling the expanse of your neck to settle on your collarbone.

“My smart girl, aren’t you? Always working so hard.”

He bites your skin softly, as if punctuating his statement. It prompts you to arch your back, pressing your body to him as hard as you can. You want him to get to it.

“I know, I know. Be good, I’ll give you what you want.”

You’re expecting him to shift so his hand can snake down to the apex of your thighs, but he grips your waist firmly instead. In a sudden movement, he flips your positions on the bed, rearranging you so he’s the one settled against the many pillows, your legs spread to accommodate the bulk of his thighs under you.

“Clark?”

Without responding to your question, he shifts you again, so your bare cunt is angled over one mouthwateringly wide thigh.

“I want you to get yourself there like this, baby. Can you do that for me?”

You’re a bit caught off guard, having expected him to lay you down and do the work for you, like he always does. But you can’t lie, his thigh does feel good pressed up against you, and you trust him.

“I… Yeah. Yeah, I can.”

He shows his appreciation with a firm squeeze to your ass, lips curling up into a smile against your neck.

You begin slowly, dragging your hips against the rough texture of denim over muscle. You’d expect it to be harsh, but every shift sends sparks up your spine, pleasure tinged with pain slowly bringing you back down to Earth.

Clark doesn’t part from you, his large hands helping you move along his leg, mouth practically glued to any inch of skin he can access.

It’s like you’ve fallen into a trance, tunnelvision until all you can think about is his thigh under you and his hands on you.

“Clark, Clark, I—”

He soothes you with a soft cooing sound, lips travelling up to your forehead.

“I know, baby. Feels good, huh? That’s good!”

His hands spur you on further, hips bucking wildly against him. There must be a wet patch on his jeans by now, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“You deserve to feel good, deserve— You deserve everything.”

His voice is ragged, as if he’s the one getting off right now. Judging by the size of the tent in his pants, you suppose he is.

You’re single-minded now, your only goal being getting yourself there. That just-out-of-reach, intangible climax that you’ll do anything to get. Clark seems to understand, his hands forcing you down further in his lap, grinding his thigh up until you cry out.

He’s hit a perfect angle, pressing deliciously against your clit while giving you enough friction to want to hump him like a bunny. You’re damn near doing that anyway, hips moving incessantly against him.

You’re cresting, getting higher and higher until, all at once, the wave comes rushing towards you, and you crash. Pleasure continues to arc up your spine, and you realise Clark was right.

Your mind’s returned to you, and you feel more yourself than you did half an hour ago. It’s frankly overwhelming, and you choose to bury your face in his chest.

Clark laughs breathlessly, a hand coming up to pet your hair affectionately.

“Yeah? Feeling better?”

It takes some time before you’re recovered enough to come out, peering up at him with your chin pillowed on his chest.

“Yeah…”

Your thought’s unfinished, though, and he knows it. He waits patiently for you to pipe up again.

“But Clark?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Can we still fuck?”

He can’t help but laugh, chuckles vibrating his chest until you join him in his mirth. It takes him a moment until he can sober up, but you know he won’t deny you.

“Of course, baby. I’m never going to say no to that.”

With that, he surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing, filthy kiss that puts you in a haze.

Even within that haze, you’re eagerly moving, knowing exactly what you want.

He watches you get off his lap, watches as you stretch your legs out with a languid moan, and watches as you settle on your stomach on the sheets next to him, looking up with a cheeky grin.

“This okay?”

Your Cheshire-cat grin only widens when you see him scramble to tear off his clothes, feeling him settle on his knees between your parted legs.

You know he loves to have you like this, lying prone under him as he gets to overwhelm you with everything he’s got. But this is also for you. The feeling of him laying all his weight on you from behind never fails to ground you, and this will do wonders for bringing that last bit of you out from the cold.

He lays his body over yours gingerly, pelvis pressing to your ass as he makes sure his weight is distributed evenly over you. It pushes a satisfied sigh from your lips, feeling rooted to the spot in the most wonderful way.

It doesn’t hurt that you can feel the fervent heat of his cock, nestled between your thighs. You can feel that one vein of his pressed up against your slit, shuddering with anticipation as you recall how it feels inside you.

One arm is laid on the bed next to your head, forearm so close that you could bite it. His other arm moves down, down, until he can grab himself, lining him up with your dripping entrance.

With a tender kiss to the nape of your neck, Clark pushes forward.

The burning stretch is blissful, the weight of his body on top of yours even more so. The gasps and moans leave your mouth unbidden by you, unable to resist the allure of his slow, solid thrusts.

The vein is nudging perfectly against your walls, and the near-suffocating feeling gets your head right.

“Good— God, you feel good. You good, baby?”

“Y-yeah, feels so good, Clark,”

You can’t finish your sentence, a particularly dirty grind of his hips against yours robbing you of the ability to speak. Each knock of his pelvis against you leaves you openmouthed, craving just a little more.

His hand is right there, by your face, if you could just…

It’s like he can hear your thoughts, moving his left hand so he can cup your jaw a little.

“What is it, babe? Y’want something… Oh.”

You don’t bother asking, craning your neck so you can envelop two fingers with your lips.

The rough pads of his fingers brush against your tongue, and you feel sated, finally. He smells exactly like he should, soap, sweat, and something uniquely him that has you humming around his digits.

A deep, guttural groan looses itself from his throat as he feels you suck on his fingers, sending yet another shiver down your spine. As if possessed, his free hand moves up to your neck, the length of his arm carefully wrapping around your most vulnerable area.

He’s put you in a headlock, and you’ve been sent to heaven.

Crowding you even further into the sheets, Clark lets loose, drunk on the sight of you. Gone are the slow, soft movements. Instead, he’s rutting feverishly into you, chasing the high that you’re approaching as well.

With the cumulative pressure of his fingers on your tongue, his bicep digging into your throat, and the sounds of his moans, it’s no surprise that you’re falling apart nearly immediately. Tremors run through the length of your body, and you know your leg would be shaking if he didn’t have you pinned down.

Clark, ever the giver, reaches his peak at the first sight of yours. His hips stutter once, twice, against you, until he pushes in as deep as possible, as if to ensure you’ll stay right there.

You have no reason to leave, not when the stress that weighed you down has been lifted off your shoulders with his careful hands.

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 3 months ago

Text

you'd never let me fall ・b.c

—Bangchan who carries you home while your a little drunk and your feet a lot a bit hurt

paring・bangchan x gn!reader // genres・fluff, established relationships // words・900 // warnings・drunkenness, if you don't like rambles or tooth-rotting fluff than you won't like this

a/n・i needed something soft and fluffy after a pretty big fight with my dad and i found this also @sunnysdiary istg i dont know what i would do without you ilysm. p.s. lowkey proud of myself for finally just writing (i only edited once for like an hour :))

You were exactly two blocks away from your apartment when the handful of shots you had thrown back earlier really started to hit you. The sun had died hours ago, the sky now sparkling with stars that seemed to dance and tangle with the streetlights in your vision.

Wow.

You were really fucked up.

You sigh, leaning deeper into the crook of Chan's neck, his hand pressed protectively against your back as he holds you up. His breathing is soft and calming when the world begins to shift again, sharp pain shooting up your legs thanks to the stupidest decision you made all night—wearing high-heels.

The only thing that could be heard over the harsh click of your foot-shaped-death-traps is your pained groan as you loll your head against Chan's shoulder and stumble over the sidewalk mindlessly.

"I'm tired, carry me home," you slur, a slight whine in your voice. He simply smiles, looking down at your dizzy gaze with tender eyes before effortlessly scooping you up bridal style.

The moon grins with you.

Your heartbeats intertwine as you squeal, lovesick giggles pouring from your lips as you hide your face in his sweat-coated neck.

There was no way he was real.

You pull away, blinking up at his sharp jaw and shiny lips, and you swore if you looked just long enough you could find the stars hung on his lashes. There was something about him, something that spread warmth underneath your ribs. You could never quite place it—the feeling bursting within you before settling down like sweet rose perfume fading off your shirt as your nose acclimates to the scent.

Perhaps it was the alcohol that made you so sentimental, or how in a rush of emotion you remember days when you used to assess others by their expressions, the tone of their voice, and the heaviness of their footsteps. You had gotten so used to living on the edge of disaster the thought of certainty deemed to be an impossible feat—that was until you met Chan. He was something special, he loved you softly, with gentle fingers and adoring gazes. He wasn't loud, not with his words or his actions, and sometimes from the outside, society might have deemed he didn't love you at all, but you knew better than that.

Just because it was subtle didn't mean it wasn't there—it just meant it was safe.

The notion alone is enough to bring tears to your eyes, drunkenly choking out: "Thank you for always carrying me."

His gaze softens before he faintly tilts his lips, muttering, "Thank you for letting me carry you."

You were almost to the house when, mindlessly, half-asleep, you mumble, "You'd never let me fall," before going limp in the comfort of Chan's strong arms.

If you weren't so drunk, you might have noticed the shift in his stride, how a shy blush falls over his cheeks and he fights the urge to spread a smile so bright across his face it would put the sun to shame.

But you were far too gone to notice. And he was so focused on keeping you safe that he didn't sense how deeply in love with him you were right then.

You were correct; down to his very last days, he would never let you fall.

You hadn't realized how close you were to the apartment before he steps through the unlocked door, your vision blurring into the darkness of your shared home. It was the silky sheets you felt first, the warmth of his hand leaving you only before he gently pulled the covers over your body and right underneath your chin.

He kisses your forehead, lips lingering there before, hesitantly, he whispers, "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't get to carry you."

He brushes a stray lock of hair from your eyes as you crack them open only to smile, lopsided and silly. "I guess we'll never know."

Bangchan stares at you for hours after that, admiring you in all your tranquility. He knows he should stop, but he also knows he can’t. It had bottled inside him for so long, and it felt as though the rug had been ripped out from under him, and suddenly his feelings flooded out of him all at once. This wasn't what average love felt like—it was pure, gentle, and, best of all, entirely absolute.

In the novels, love is described as something maddening, profound, and disorienting. And while there are moments where it felt as though the galaxy had been sewn into your fingertips, it was more than that. Chan quickly came to find that love lived in silence—the intimate moments where words didn't matter. There was no pressure or unrealistic expectations when he was with you, no anxiety about being perfect all the time. Being with you made his world feel... lighter.

He breathes, brushing a lock of hair out of your face. You shift, instinctively leaning into his touch. A small smile tugs at his lips when the moonlight catches your face just right; you were peaceful, angelic like spring flowers fluttering in the breeze.

There are very few things in this world that are truly poetic. Some may say the stars, the sea, humanity, and the very depth of our emotions. And while Chan could agree with all of those, his love for you outweighed them all.

please don't forget to reblog with tags or comment what you think your feedback makes my day 😁

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invoncible · 4 months ago

Note

HII!!! YOU HAVE SUCH AN UNIQUE STYLE OF WRITING, I LOVE IT!!! :D

Could you perhaps.... write some jealous Invincible Variants scenarios???? :3

MARK GRAYSON (& VARIANTS) being jealous ✧˚. ft. og!mark, mohawk!mark, nogoggles!mark, viltrumite!mark, sinister!mark w/ gn!reader cw. canon typical violence

— oh yes anon. yes. come here lemme kiss ur brain. — yippeeeee one more variant added to the roster!

OG!MARK

out of all the marks, he's the most boyfriend out of them all. if that even makes sense.

he's just happy to be by your side.

he knows you attract attention—why wouldn't you? you're smart, funny, and gorgeous. but he's secure in your relationship.

when mark is jealous, it's like.... he just doesn't understand why people would make moves on you when they know you're taken. if they try something in front of him he'll straight up ask, "...why?"

like he genuinely cannot comprehend the notion of going for someone who is so clearly in a relationship??

and he makes your relationship pretty clear so he knows there's no excuse

sometimes he just gets so pissed off he does things impulsively. punching someone, for example.

"i have a boyfriend." you denied the guy in front of you, sharing a look with mark.

"who's standing right here." mark added, hand possessively squeezing your waist. "for the third time," he muttered under his breath.

"okay, but if things fall through, though." the guy pressed, offering his phone to you. "you might like—"

the guy couldn't even extend his arm all the way before mark snatched the device from his hand and chucked it to... who knows where.

the guy spluttered angrily, grabbing his head as he watched his phone drift away into the blue sky. mark smiled as he watched it get smaller, and smaller, and even smaller... ah, justice was sweet.

"that was my phone?!"

"this is my partner?!" mark mocked his incredulous tone, rolling his eyes before, nudging you. "come on."

he shoved past your unwanted suitor, perhaps using a bit more force than needed.

"mark." you couldn't hide your smile.

"what?" he said, suddenly the picture of innocence. but that glint in his eye told you he knew better. you just shook your head and pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he preened under your attention.

MOHAWK!MARK

this man is sooo problematic. i don't know if you've seen that comic panel of him and his entourage of scantily-clad girls, but yeah. he can be a flirt but you can't.

anyone who tries anything with you is getting killed! dead and buried.

he likes to play with his food first, though.

"i'm gonna take that one home before the night ends," he heard someone hiccup, drunk on booze as their wobbly finger pointed you out in the crowd.

mark raised his eyebrow, his calculating eyes drifting between you and the guy who was trying to put moves on you. he smiled to himself as he walked up to him.

"cute, huh?" mark's eyes were intensely trained on you, watching you over the rim of his glass.

the guy lazily acknowledged him. "huh? oh, yeah. real cute."

"did you know they're taken?" he chirped happily, his voice and face betraying the bubbling annoyance he felt inside.

"wha—"

"did you know," mark repeated, snatching the cup of alcohol from the guy and pushing himself into his space menacingly. "they're taken?"

"i—"

"i—i—i—" mark taunted, twisting up his face as he ridiculed the guy. "yeah. taken. by me, dumbass. get the fuck out of my place."

the guy scrambled past him to run out the exit, suddenly aware enough to realize who he was hitting on and who they belonged to.

mark watched him scramble across the shiny floors like a deer on ice, chuckling to himself before flying towards him, grabbing him by the back of his shirt. he soared higher and higher before he just... let go.

the guy's screams were music to his hears all the way down. mark returned to his party, giddy.

"where did you go?" you pouted as you walked up to him. he took you in his arms, squeezing you tight to his chest. he rested his cheek on the top of your head, rubbing your back.

"nowhere."

"i just saw you."

"shh, pretty girl, i'm back now, aren't i?" he tilted your head upwards and pressed a kiss on your pursed lips. "come dance with me, seems we gotta remind people that you're mine."

NOGOGGLES!MARK

they're also dead. LMAO don't try anything with this one. he's the definition of loose cannon

he'd be insulted if the person trying to hit on you was weaker than him, because... why do they think they have a chance 🤨

"aw, come on. on your feet." mark swiped at his nose, a deep frown on his lips.

"who are you talking to?" you sighed, arms crossed over your chest as you stared at the body on the ground. "you punched his brains out."

"nah, he's got some fight left in him." mark bent over and hoisted the guy back up by his shirt, trying to get him to balance on his own two feet. "oh, shit."

the second he let go, the unfortunate person who tried to hit on you wobbled back onto the floor.

mark kicked the guy's head like a football, sending his body crashing into a nearby wall. "fuck, that was lame."

you rolled your eyes and pulled him away from the pool of blood on the ground. "one normal date. just one, that's all i ask for."

he grinned at you, pulling you close, uncaring of his bloodied hands. "he had no chance, huh?"

"no chance." you agreed, smiling when he peppered your face with kisses. "mark—!" you giggled.

"you know i'd do anything for you, right?" he hummed, holding you tight and pressing a big fat kiss to your cheek. "i'd kill for you."

"i know," you answered. yes, you knew very well.

VILTRUMITE!MARK

this one isn't popping a sweat in some elaborate fight with someone that dared to push themselves between you.

everyone else was wrong for you. he was the only one deserving to be by your side and he's gonna let people know

i.e. he's gonna let people know exactly how and why they're beneath him and thus, undeserving of your affection

"maybe i could... i dunno, maybe we could go out sometime." the guy across from you shrugged.

you raised your eyebrow, barely sparing him a glance over your book. "no."

"not even gonna give it a try?" he pressed, scooting closer to you. "hmm?"

you grimaced and shifted away from him. "i have a boyfriend."

"he's not here, is he? we can have a little affair going on, it'd be exciting."

you scoffed, half-laughing at the audacity. "you think i'd cheat with you? have you seen my boyfriend? in what world would i ever leave him for you?"

the guy huffed a short breath, brows furrowing in offense. "how fucking dare you. here i am, being nice and the first thing you do is insult me? your man is probably just as chopped as you are—"

"ermmm, no, i would not say that." you rolled your eyes, uncaring if you antagonized him further.

"—yeah well, i am saying that, so—"

"what's going on here?" mark floated from above, a bewildered look on his face. he grabbed the guy by his throat and squeezed, lifting him off the floor and enjoying the way he gasped and choked for air.

"was he bothering you, love?" mark asked you softly. sweetly, even.

you smiled and nodded. "bugging me for a date."

mark turned his attention back to the red-faced guy squirming in his hand. he clicked his tongue in disappointment as he scanned the man's figure. "this... this unsightly specimen thought they had a chance with you?"

"looks that way." you hummed, turning a page in your book.

mark scoffed to himself, dropping the guy to the ground. he gracefully lowered himself as well, staring down the unwanted suitor. "unbelievable. weak and whiny." mark shook his head, bringing his foot down on the guy's chest to prevent him from squirming away. “pathetic.”

mark studied the guy as he begged and begged, crying tears and apologies before he finished the job with a sickening crrrrack.

mark sighed and dropped into the seat next to you. he leaned over and rested his head in your lap without another word, eyes fluttering shut as you threaded your fingers through his hair.

SINISTER!MARK

that unlucky bitch is getting their ass ate. in the bad way. simple as that. mark might even try to serve them to you for dinner.

#invincible #invincible show #mark grayson #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible season 3 #mohawk mark #sinister mark #mohawk mark x reader #viltrumite mark #no goggles mark #invincible variants x reader #invincible variants #invincible x gn reader

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retiredteabag · 6 months ago

Text

The eyes of the beholder

my masterlist

Sukuna genuinely does not understand the concept of physical insecurity.

He has pride unrivaled by any, his assurity never wavers, and despite his unique appearance, he does not consider himself strange.

Additionally, Sukuna has a hard time putting himself in the shoes of others. He deems himself perfect. You are his favored one, so he attributes the same to you.

He sees you as the height of beauty and never entertains a different notion. It would never come to his mind.

What? You think he's wrong when he says your beauty is unparalleled? You think him a liar? You don't trust his judgment? Truly, he does not comprehend insecurity.

"Not everything is about you, Kuna." You spin around in one of the estate's halls of mirrors and run you hands over the subtle stretch marks that appear on your hips.

You had been trying on formal attire for one of the estate's events, something both you and Sukuna hated. He could likely feel any unhappy emotion that permeated your space.

You never enjoyed having to critique whether or not something was flattering on your body and Sukuna was no help as he wouldn’t allowed criticism of you.

He thought it was a waste of time because to him, it all looked appealing.

That, and you both hated events. Balls, Galas, Auctions, the whole gambit. None of it suited your interests, and The King thought them a disturbance.

You finally pulled on your original clothing, ruffling it this way and that so it would fall just right, and stepped out from behind the hall's flowing curtains.

"You wound me when you say things like that." Sukuna had his head leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed.

"I'll let everyone know just how well I can wound their King." You scoff and roll you eyes.

"Heavens, don’t they know?” He sits up. All four of his red eyes glower at you as if you've cast some kind of spell his way. "Why does this upset you so? Haven't I said that flaws hold no residence within you?"

Your lips are pulled into a frown. You know he couldn’t possibly understand, at first, it felt somewhat invalidating. His mindset was so far from yours, of course he would think it skewed.

"Don't you just think that because I have unfortunately found favor with you?" You begin to fold the options that the seamstresses had brought you as he huffs at your choice of words. "You were sculpted perfectly as you know, you and I are different."

He grumbles, having heard your complaints before. But you continue before he can take issue with it.

"My skin has these markings, and my thighs touch when I stand, my frame is far from ideal-" You turn to him now, "-and I cannot always love how things fit me as you do."

It's not that you're actually upset, just somewhat flummoxed by The King of Curses mindset.

Sukuna had sat up as you spoke, and now his posture bends toward you. He wears the silliest face you have ever possibly seen him produce and it almost makes you laugh.

His mouth is slightly open, lip arched, his eyes are wide but his brows are pulled together at your words and you could guess that he has never been so confused.

"What?" You almost giggle.

"By God, you care entirely too much."

You have to take a deep breath before he continues, "Your skin? What is it wrong with your skin? I quite like your skin. Would you rather I find you a furry pelt you can wear?"

It's moments like these that remind you of how silly this man is. You shake your head, but he continues, slowly, bewildered.

"Your... thighs touch? I see not how that could be an issue. Do not my thighs touch as well? How is it you are able to invent these things to be bothered by?"

Although you had been frustrated a moment before, you know he has a point. He had lived through many more centuries, it very well might have seemed strange to worry over such things.

Sukuna stands, coming closer without pause, and tugs on the draping of your garb. "What formula are you using to decide what looks good and what does not?" His hands find your body and squeeze over you in an almost ticklish way.

It was not sexual, it was not uncomfortable either. He was simply feeling you. He loved your being, whatever shell you presented in. Eventually, his palm came up and engulfed the top of your head, his fingers dangled by your eyes. "Hmmm, I cannot understand. Anything would be flattering if it was put on you."

A part of you wanted to murmur, "That's just what you're saying." But you knew Sukuna, and you knew he meant it. The concept that you might hold his same mindset was an impossibility at that moment in the hall of mirrors.

But you had many other moments to share with your King and believe me when I say, that man could be convincing.

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5sospenguinqueen · 8 months ago

Text

The Wrong Bull | Mark Webber x Interviewer! Reader

Summary: Mark was enjoying a private relationship with his favourite F1 interviewer. Until the internet started shipping you with his biggest rival

Warnings: Malaysia 2013. A lot of fabrication ie made up insta names. Swearing. Suggestive content. Indulgent blurb because who doesn’t like the idea of needy/possessive Mark.

Requested: No

F1 Masterlist

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its_yn just posted

liked by markwebber, f1 and others

its_yn happy malaysia grand prix weekend! i’m very happy to be in the paddock this weekend bringing you the insight on how our eleven teams are doing

6,622 comments

danielricciardo can’t wait to see you. always bring me the most interesting questions

→ its_yn and you always bring me the most random answers

user1 my fave interviewer. i love the way she lovingly bullies the drivers. they’re always so engaging with her

jensonbutton now that’s a handsome man

→ its_yn thank you, i try

→ danielricciardo but i’m the one with random answers?

user2 i’m so happy you’re in the paddock. you have the best rapport with the drivers and always have the best interviews with them

skysportsf1 when all the drivers beg for you to be there, we can’t say no

→ its_yn aw, you guys. i knew you loved me really

→ sebastianvettel of course. the prettiest interviewer we have

→ user3 oh, well then, get in there vettel

→ user4 sebastian making his move

user5 vettel winning on and off the track

user6 no way he bagged the hot sky sports presenter

user7 okay but the way she was smiling at him

→ user8 and the way he looked at her? talk about heart eyes

user9 if they need a third or a dog, i can bark

user10 ngl i thought jenson button was going to win her over

user11 okay, let’s chill a second guys. they just entered the paddock together

→ user12 we might be seeing the beginning of their relationship! how can any of us be calm. used to pray for times like these

→ user13 yes but we don’t want to scare them off before we get confirmation

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Back resting against the wall of Mark's driver room, legs curled beneath you, you flipped through your notebooks. Going through your notes, you occasionally jotted something down, deeming it worthy of potentially mentioning during any interviews later. The sound of the lock turning had your head snapping up in time to see Mark's tall stature fill the doorframe. His eyes landed on you instantly, and he wriggled through the small gap he had created, blocking you from view of whoever was on the other side. A few short sentences later, Mark had managed to provide an adequate excuse to be alone. The door shut with a quiet click and Mark assured you it was locked.

"What are you doing here?" Mark questioned, the soft smile on his face assuring he wasn't opposed to the sight of you in his room. "Shouldn't you be out bothering more important people?"

"More important than you?" You shot back. "I've been put in charge of the post-race interviews today so I've got a bit of a break."

Mark took note of your jacket hanging on the back of his door, and your shoes at the foot of his massage table. His things surrounded by your things. And he was warmed by how comfortable you were here. In an endeavour to find some peace admit the chaos of the paddock, you took refuge in his room. The notion stoked the little fire of possessiveness within him.

"So, you're just going to hide out here until the race?"

Your pile of snacks, the circle of papers around you, and his jumper hanging from your frame told him all he needed to know. He just wanted - no, needed - to hear you say it. Especially after he'd overheard some of the drivers teasing Vettel during the Parade. About you, and the internet's speculations. And how if the German ended up on the podium, then how could the "pretty interviewer" say no to a date. So, regardless of the fact that it was his name and number splashed across your body, he still needed to hear you say it. To confirm that you were his and his alone.

"Until I'm needed, then yes," you smiled, watching as he slowly approached.

The white fireproof clinging to his muscular arms flexed as he placed them on either side of you. His race suit was wrapped around his waist precariously, looking ready to fall apart with a slight tug.

He angled his head down towards you, cheeks dimpling when he grinned. "And if I say you're needed right now?"

Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him down to close the small gap he had left between you. "What exactly am I needed for, Mr Webber?"

His eyes darted down to your mouth, watching as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. Before you could register that he'd moved, his mouth was on yours, moving against you and swallowing your surprised squeak. His arms wound themselves around your midsection, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body pressed into you instantly, and you melted into his touch.

Sliding your hands into his hair, you tugged at the short strands so as to pull him off you in order to catch your breath. As he didn't need oxygen more than he needed you, Mark's lips continued moving. His lips moved across your jaw, under your ear and down to the fluttering pulse in your neck, leaving a fiery path as he moved. A whimper was pulled from you when he sucked gently, your back arching into him. Paper crinkled beneath you when he lowered you onto the bed.

"Mark," you moaned, "you don't have time."

"Shh," he whispered against your skin, crawling atop you, trapping you between his body and the massage table. It gave a groan of protest but he paid it no mind.

Not when your hands slid under his fireproofs, stroking the heated skin of his abdomen before trailing lower. With one pull, the knot of his race gave way, removing the cushioning that had prevented his hard length from pressing into you. A throaty groan escaped him when you rolled your hips against him.

Mark chuckled at your sudden eagerness. "What happened to not having enough time?"

"You shouldn't be so tempting."

Knowing that you craved him as much as he did you had Mark reconnecting your lips, moving with more fervour. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. His hips jerked against you when you pulled his bottom lip into your mouth, sucking gently. Mark's hands slid down your hips, reaching around to palm your ass and pull you flush against him. The throbbing in his underwear intensified.

Two sharp raps on the door made your eyes snap open, fear flitting across your face when the door handle rattled. Mark pressed closer to you once more; not in lust but worry that someone would see you in the dishevelled state he had created. That was a sight for his eyes only.

Another knock came before a deep voice called out for the driver. "Christian wants to see you for a pre-race chat."

"What, now?"

"Yeah."

Mark groaned before looking down at you. Lipstick smeared, cheeks flushed and blotches darkening on your neck. He wasn't sure he could go outside. The image of you like this would stay with him, making him strain against the fabric of his suit.

"Go, my love," you whispered, tying his suit back around his waist, ensuring the arms carefully concealed the problem you had created. "And try not to collide with your teammate."

Well, the mention of his biggest rival this year was one way to soften him.

"You'll still be here when I get back? Before I jump in the car?" He pleaded.

He knew the answer. Of course he did. The routine had been the same for the past two years but, as before, he needed the verbal reassurance.

"And why would I do that?" You teased, snickering when the 6'1 man in front of you started to pout.

"Because how else would I get my pre-race kiss?"

"You could always ask Vettel."

The look on Mark's face turned from faux sadness to something much darker. You yelped when his teeth sunk into your neck before he pressed a soothing kiss on the mark he'd left (yes, I laughed at that). Shooting you a wink, he dashed out the door, and you were left alone once more.

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

user1 seb really turned on the charm with this one

→ user2 he got away with defying team orders, won the race, and decided to win the girl

user3 they would make such a cute couple though

user4 idk how yn managed to keep her calm, interviewer face on because if 3x wdc winner sebastian vettel spoke to me like that, i’d be giggling and twirling my hair fr

user5 okay i wasn’t a fan of the sebastian/yn train earlier but this interview may have convinced me

user6 i love how she’s trying to stay unbiased but you can see that she’s impressed with vettel’s racing today

→ user7 i actually thought she was a bit short with him for a change

→ user8 no i agree. her energy felt off. usually she laughs when they’re flirting

user9 did anyone else see webber watching them in the background?

→ user10 vettel needs to sleep with one eye open

user11 everyone talking about sebyn but i swear she kept looking behind him at mark

→ user12 mark defo smiled at her when they made eye contact

→ user13 bfr, she’s clearly into seb here

f1 just posted

liked by its_yn, redbullracing and others

f1 and it’s a 1-2 for red bull! oh, sorry, was that meant to say 2-1?

9,222 comments

redbullracing that’s our bulls

→ user1 i didn’t realise we celebrated defying team orders

→ user2 oh please. sebastian was faster. mark needs to just accept that

its_yn well done, team red bull

→ user3 it’s okay, sis. you can say well done to the love of your life for winning

→ user4 vettel getting a celebration better than a champagne shower later

user5 f1 is foul for this lmao

→ user6 love how they used the pics where mark looks the most pissed off

sebastianvettel very good race. well done, team

→ user7 he sounds so polite like he’s not a certified track terror

user8 i’m in love with admin today. they knew what they were doing with this caption

jensonbutton has anyone heard from mark since the podium?

→ fernandoalonso he’s yapping my ear off until all the conferences are done

user9 poor mark. he looked ready to throttle seb when they were doing interviews

→ user10 omg was that the one where seb was flirting with yn??

→ user9 yes! webber was stood behind him looking murderous. so hot

user11 not to be one of those but i saw yn comforting mark after the race

→ user12 before or after her flirty interview with seb?

→ user13 not fans trying to push yn and webber based on their 3 interactions when all this seb and yn content is right there

user1 sorry but no one can convince me that she didn’t just have a celebration romp with vettel

→ user2 yes! got to celebrate his win properly haha

→ user3 when he asked if she had plans later knowing she’d end up in his driver’s room

user4 dishevelled clothes, messy hair and her red lipstick from the morning gone? did someone say driver’s room sex

user5 she really does look like she got dicked down good

user6 it’s the fact that almost everyone from the garage has left and she still got caught, bless her

user7 no because imagine angry sex with mark webber after that race

→ user8 oof, i never saw mark that way before but his face on that podium has me feeling some kind of way

→ user9 i love how everyone is thinking of seb and your magnificent brain thought of mark

→ user7 i’m just saying, if i had to pick between the blonde twink or the angry, tall aussie, i know who i’m going with

user10 okay but imagine it was mark’s room she snuck out from. seb stole his win so mark stole his crush

→ user11 revenge, hate sex

user12 did anyone else see the two marks on her neck during the interviews earlier though? i don't think post-race was the first taste miss thing got today

user13 damn, i always thought vettel would be good but he looks like he did a number on her

markwebber just posted

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and others

markwebber please can you stop "shipping" her with the wrong bull. she’s mine

7,012 comments

its_yn and has happily been yours for two wonderful years

→ user1 they’ve been together for two years?!

→ user2 excuse me, two years and they kept it from everyone?!

fernandoalonso does this mean i lose elite status as the only one who knows?

→ jensonbutton you knew!

→ lewishamilton of course he knew. although i feel a little blindsided

user3 no because i was fighting in the trenches for mark and yn whilst y’all were pushing the sebyn agenda

user4 who taught him to take the most romantic photos ever

→ markwebber yn did

→ its_yn i trained him good, ladies, so back off

redbullracing members of the garage have asked that you keep any noise in the driver’s room to a minimum. please and thanks

→ user5 so she did get her back blown out after the race by angry mark

→ user6 living my dream

→ its_yn i see you. he’s not for you anymore

jensonbutton genuinely did not see this coming. ngl, i was convinced yn was with seb

→ redbullracing so did we. we got sucked into all the twitter theories. they made a convincing case

→ its_yn @/redbullracing we had to disclose our relationship to you?

→ redbullracing i know. that’s how convincing they were

→ markwebber @/christianhorner how do i file a complaint about admin

user7 the height difference between them 🥰

→ user8 the height difference between them 🥵

danielricciardo well, there go my chances

→ markwebber you’re too young for her, mate

→ danielricciardo yes but clearly she has a thing for aussies

→ its_yn just the one ;)

user9 no wonder he was angry. seb stole his win and then poor mark had to watch him flirt with his girl

→ user10 and watch as the entire internet shipped his girlfriend of two years with that win-stealing man

sebastianvettel oh

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests are open. i promise your requests are on the way. i'm just slow haha

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

2K notes · View notes

todorokies · 8 days ago

Text

far from a couple (of besties) ! - satoru gojo

꒰ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ──── contents: fluff, gn reader, friends to potential lovers, reader is a teacher at jujutsu tech, banter, grumpy x sunshine combo with a small side of yearning

“how come you never want to hold my hand in public?”

you take a long sip of your lemonade refresher, feeling your thirst automatically quenched by the cold drink. the ice cubes clinked against the glass and the warm summer breeze gently whistles, filling the small momentary silence.

as you reach the end of your drink, you prolong the activity as long as possible by intentionally slurping on the straw rather slowly and swishing around the remainder of the drink in your mouth before gulping down.

the glass hits the table with a light thud, "not this again," you sigh with irritation, leaning back against your seat with your arms crossed over your chest.

"yes, this again!" satoru exclaims with a small whine in his tone. he leans forward on the patio table with his hands flat on the surface.

grabbing lunch with satoru had its ups and downs. while you appreciated his generosity of inviting you out to eat with him —even offering to pay for the joint meals— and his vast knowledge of different cuisines and restaurants, moments like these really damper the mood.

his knack for constantly talking about anything and everything instead of enjoying the meal and your company in silence soured the activity for you.

the days where he personally ventured out for you after his lessons with his students were arguably the worse; looking high and low in different locations of the establishment just to link arms with you and swiftly drag you away from whatever you were occupied with at the moment.

today was one of those days.

he shifts idly in his seat, "i just don't get it— i mean, it's not like a little hand holding is gonna hurt anyone~" a small grin tugs at the corners of his mouth due to the scowl that was present on your face.

you scoff, "i don't even hold your hand in private, why would i want to hold it in public?" you lean forward against the table, coming face to face with satoru as he sat across from you.

you attempted to flick his forehead but he quickly puts up his infinity before you could get the chance, making your planned attack useless.

satoru has been pretty adamant on this oddly specific subject. saying how if you two were to "platonically hold hands", it'll strengthen your friendship with each other. even going on about how him, shoko and nanami did it and now they're the “closest” they've ever been.

however, you inquired to shoko about the accuracy of this statement and she looked at you dumbfounded. which told you everything you already knew.

he evades your question and gasps. "don't tell you're afraid of physical touch, that might be a problem for future partner," he quips. he takes a small slip at his water and hums, "gosh, don't you just love h2o. it's the best, right?"

you can feel a vein in your forehead become more prominent as the scowl on your face deepens. "sure. i'm a big fan," you deadpanned.

you tilt your head and raise an eyebrow, "how does my love life correlate to me not wanting to hold your hand?" you can see him attempt and fail to contain his piqued interest.

you're finally asking him the right questions.

"i'm so glad you asked!" he stabs his fork into his desert —a strawberry covered cheesecake— and silently notions the fork towards you, offering a bite. you decline by shaking your head and he shrugs, taking the bite instead.

"if you can't even hold hands with a friend how do you expect to get all touchy with your significant other, hm?"

he stumps you a bit with the question. there's a thin line between a friend and a romantic partner, but with having a significant other also comes with a gained friendship. while you're not touchy with most of your friends, you still hold respect for them and put enough effort to maintain those bonds.

physical touch has never been a problem for you. it's something you don't really mind but would pick another love language over it in a heartbeat, if given the opportunity.

before you could answer him, he speaks up. "all i'm saying is that i would make good practice so when your knight in shining amour comes around, you already know what to do." he lowers his head as he peeks at you from above the small cracks of his sunglasses.

the gears shift rapidly in your head, noticing inconsistency. you narrow your eyes at him, "but wait, i thought you said us holding hands would "strengthen our bond?" where's all this other stuff coming from?"

satoru freezes his movements. fork in mid air nearing his opened mouth. he slowly takes a bite and swallows nervously, he clears his throat, "let's just say we'd be killing two birds with one stone, yeah?”

"sureee." suspicious laced in your voice, "but that won't be necessary. we're adults, practicing stuff like that, like we're middle schoolers, is strange to say the least.”

satoru frowns at your words. "you're never too young or old to learn and practice new things."

you huff, "true but holding hands isn't a new concept to me, satoru."

the waitress soon comes into view at your table and asks if you'd like to close your tab. before satoru can answer with an expected no, you interject, asking for a takeout container for his cheesecake and the bill.

you let out an agitated huff while gathering your items, "we're running late for training again. almost every time we eat out, we spend way longer than expected."

he snickers and takes his wallet out of his pocket, "yet you don't show too much resistance when i bring you out." he smugly bites at his lip.

"that's because you force me out, i don't have much of a choice." you kick his foot under the table in annoyance and your blow presumably lands as you hear a small stifled grunt from him.

"oh please. you would've been eating away at those stale donuts in the staff room everyday if it weren't for me." he pays for both of your meals and the two of you venture back to the school.

the walk back is surprisingly silent. something you longed for the whole day, however, it became unnerving after a few long minutes. you speak up, breaking the silence first.

"by the way, i'm choosing the restaurant next time."

satoru sarcastically chuckles, "oh? there'll be a next time? lucky me i guess. and here i thought you didn't enjoy my company."

"oh my god, will you shut the hell up." you roll your eyes biting the inside of your cheek to hide away a forming smile.

reblogs and feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

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jupiterpilgrim · 9 months ago

Text

Sex Cage: Fame, Fun and Fire

Kwon Eunbi x Yujin x Male Reader

word count: 8.5K

part 1//part 2

You and Eunbi are seated side by side at the mall food court, each of you carrying a look of shared anxiety. Around you, the crowd is a tangled mess of shopping bags, kids running around, and people who’ve clearly never heard of headphones. But the noise outside is nothing compared to the storm within.

"So... are you nervous?" Eunbi nudges you, a teasing smile on her lips, trying to ease both your tension and her own.

"Just a little," you admit.

"Look, babe, you need to get used to this stuff. She’s just a girl."

"Not just any girl," you retort, frowning. "It's Yujin."

Eunbi shrugs, as casual as if meeting one of the biggest content creators of the moment were just another ordinary day. "So, she’s famous—big deal. She still puts on her pants one leg at a time, just like us." She looks at you, something warm and affectionate in her eyes. "Seriously, love, when she gets here, you’ll see. It'll be like talking to anyone else."

As if the universe had a particularly cynical sense of humor, a voice chimes in from behind you.

"Found you!"

You both turn your heads so fast you might win an Olympic medal in synchronized movements. And there she is—Yujin, in person, flesh and blood. Taller than you imagined, with an aura that seems to light up the entire food court. She’s dressed casually, a loose black knit sweater with a basic white tank barely visible underneath, and frayed denim shorts that add a laid-back vibe, matched with a studded belt. Sunglasses complete the look.

The brightness of her smile shatters any notion of “just a girl” into tiny, irrelevant pieces.

“Hi... hi!” Eunbi finally stands, throwing herself into a hug with Yujin, desperately trying to keep her composure. You’re still stuck on the bench, trying to convince yourself she didn’t just step out of a fashion editorial.

Yujin steps back from Eunbi and looks at you, a smile that, if you weren’t petrified, you’d swear had a hint of complicity. "And you, aren’t you coming?" She opens her arms, waiting.

You stand, trying not to look like a complete idiot, and she pulls you into a casual hug that, in your head, lasts an eternity. “I was super excited to meet you both,” she says, pulling away and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Eunbi, trying her hardest to act natural, replies, “We were too. You’re even prettier in person, honestly.”

Yujin lets out a lighthearted laugh. “Oh, thanks, but look who’s talking. You’re so much more stunning in real life, too.”

Eunbi glances away, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks. “Well, I... thank you,” she stammers, unable to hold back a smile.

Yujin removes her sunglasses and glances at you, a curious expression on her face. “And you, honey, are cute too,” she says with a hint of amusement, “but you look a bit tense. Nervous?”

"I... it’s just... it’s my first time doing this," you admit, trying to play it cool. You laugh, but it’s that kind of laugh that gives away every attempt at looking natural.

"Relax. Soon enough, we’ll all be close. Want a decent coffee? I think we have a long day ahead."

Yujin leads the way to a quieter café, and you and Eunbi exchange a look—a mix of awe and satisfaction—as you follow her.

After all, it’s just another day.

Except it's not.

—

The café is an unlikely refuge in the middle of the mall chaos. Unlike the food court, the lighting here is softer, as if the designers decided people spend more if they feel mysteriously cozy. Yujin, of course, looks perfectly at ease.

You place your orders at the counter—a cappuccino for her, an extravagant frappuccino for Eunbi, and a black coffee for you, because someone here had to add a touch of seriousness. With drinks in hand, the three of you find a table by the window, where you can watch the hurried tide of shoppers on the other side of the glass, as if observing a documentary on human behavior in its natural habitat.

Once you’re settled, Yujin turns to you both, firing off, “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you’d accept the offer. It took you a while to reply.”

You and Eunbi share one of those telepathic glances that only develop after years together. “We were... going through some stuff at the time,” Eunbi answers, a bit awkwardly, as if trying to give a short answer to a question that deserves a thesis.

“Ah, I get it,” Yujin says, with a smile that makes it clear she really does. “Relationships, huh? They always have their ups and downs.”

For a brief second, you and Eunbi glance at each other again, like two students caught off guard by a question in the middle of class. Explaining that, back in the anonymous video days, you were just friends feels like an odyssey no one wants to start. So you simply say nothing. Silence, after all, is one of the most efficient forms of communication.

Unfazed, Yujin continues, as if she has the supernatural gift of skipping over the complicated parts. “So how’s it been, now that you’re not anonymous anymore?”

“Funny,” Eunbi begins. “The first few weeks were... strange. I was afraid to go out, like, what if someone recognized me? But then I realized the world out there is a lot bigger than the view count on my screen.”

“Oh, the ego hates this part,” Yujin comments, with a smile you’d classify as experienced. “But don’t worry. The worst that can happen is someone asking for a photo.”

She tilts her head, her eyes roaming over the two of you. “And your families? How did they react?”

You clear your throat, searching for the words. “Well, only my family knows. Eunbi’s parents... haven’t found out yet, apparently. In fact, not even our friends found out. You know, it's not something you reveal with much enthusiasm. But eventually they'll get to the truth."

“Really? Well, I hope everything goes well when they find out,” Yujin says.

“My family didn’t take it too well at first, and maybe the fact that I revealed this to them when I was drunk contributed to that,” you admit, exhaling like you’re shedding a weight. “We ended up taking a... break for a while, you know? But eventually, they called, and we were able to talk without drama. In the end, they came around.”

Yujin lets out a laugh, this time a bit more bitter. “Parents, huh? Mine didn’t accept it at all. But honestly? I was never a big fan of them anyway. These days, we kind of... don’t talk anymore.” She shrugs, as if it were a small thing and not a complete family break. “Sad, isn’t it? But that’s life.”

And then, right on cue, the drinks arrive. The waitress sets the cups down with clockwork precision, and Yujin holds her cappuccino as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to keep discussing family breakdowns while savoring milk foam.

You stare at the foam on your black coffee, maybe as a symbolic attempt to glimpse into the future. “And you... do you regret this choice?”

“Me?” Yujin raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Not at all. Today, I have my own life, I live super well, and freedom is priceless. By the way, what about you two? Any regrets?”

Eunbi shrugs, leaning over to grab her frappuccino. “Not yet,” she answers, looking at you for a moment as if seeking confirmation.

“Same here,” you add. “So far, nothing’s really gone wrong. I quit my old job and now I have more free time to spend with my girlfriend, helping her with her business. But I confess that sometimes I find myself having some doubts about the future."

“Don’t overthink it. As long as you two have each other, you’ll get through any challenge.” She says it like someone who’s navigated a fair share of rough waters and lived to tell the tale.

You and Eunbi share another look, and this time the smile you exchange feels like a silent pact, an okay, we can do this.

Yujin continues with a casual prophecy. “Oh, and one more thing. This will also become your new normal. In five years, you might not even remember what the old life was like.”

Eunbi tilts her head, pretending innocence. “And is that a good thing?”

“Oh, it’s very good,” Yujin replies, with a smile half genuine, half enigmatic. She takes a sip of her cappuccino, seeming to savor every drop, as if drinking directly from a magic potion. “Freedom can be a little... lonely at times. But honestly? It’s the best thing there is.”

You and Eunbi absorb this in silence, but it’s not a silence that lasts long, as the café door almost trembles when a group of girls enter, spotting Yujin. In an instant, the carefully cultivated tranquility of the café goes right out the window.

“OH MY GOD, YUJIN!” one of them yells with the intensity of someone spotting Beyoncé. The entire café turns to look as you and Eunbi shrink in surprise. But Yujin only flashes that smile she’s probably practiced in the mirror just for moments like this.

She gives a small wave, like a queen in her royal chamber, and the girls rush over, each with eyes sparkling with admiration and a genuine urgency, as if they’re reporters interviewing a celebrity on the red carpet.

“I’m your biggest fan!” exclaims the first one, staring at Yujin like she’s the last source of water in a desert. “I watch all your streams on Twitch. I mean, EVERY one. Even that stream that crashed because of your cat. That part was iconic.”

Yujin laughs, nodding. “Ah, yes. He always thinks the keyboard is the best bed in the house.”

The second girl practically jumps with excitement. “You’re like my fashion muse! I copied that blue hair you had a few months ago, you know? But the blue washed out after like three washes. Any tricks?”

“Sure. First, get a good toner. Then say a couple of Hail Marys. Works every time.”

The third seems almost breathless with adrenaline, as if she’s been preparing her whole life for this moment. “Seriously, you’re everything to me! I even follow your playlist on Spotify. Like, I’m OBSESSED with your workout playlist.”

Yujin, now visibly flattered, raises an eyebrow. “Ah, the workout playlist… a classic.” She turns to you and Eunbi, as if wanting to share a private joke. “It has a certain vibe, you know? Who knew ‘Dancing Queen’ could be so motivating for leg presses?”

Then one of the girls pulls out her phone, eyes alight with hope. “Can we take a picture with you, Yujin? And maybe you could say ‘hi’ on Stories? Just to prove this surreal moment actually happened.”

Yujin nods like a patient teacher. “Of course, let’s do it! Who wants to be first?”

It’s chaos.

Each of them takes a selfie from a carefully studied angle, as if taking an X-ray, and Yujin smiles serenely in all of them, saintly calm. She says a quick “hi, everyone, I’m here at the café with these beauties!” on one girl’s Stories, while the girl herself looks ready to faint from sheer emotion.

Between selfies, one fan glances over at Eunbi, her eyes widening. “Wait… aren’t you Rubydden? Oh my God, I've seen some of your photos on Instagram! You’re so beautiful, seriously!”

Eunbi gives a bashful yet proud smile. “Oh, yeah, that’s me. And this is my boyfriend…”

“Is he also an influencer?”

“Well, in a way... yes,” Eunbi replies.

Another one elbows her friend, not-so-quietly whispering, “Hey guys, now there are three famous influencers here! This café’s getting a five-star Google upgrade today!”

Yujin, clearly amused, wraps up the photos and casually comments, “You girls are amazing. Really. But now let me drink my cappuccino before it turns into iced coffee.”

The girls laugh, enchanted by how Yujin effortlessly combines a hint of farewell without losing any charm. They gradually back away, waving and sending another wave of compliments, promises to keep following everything she does, and even a lone “I love you” from the back of the group.

Once they’re gone, Eunbi turns to Yujin, looking fascinated, almost incredulous. “Does… does this happen to you a lot?”

“Depends on the day,” Yujin replies, picking up her cup and taking a casual sip, as if fans were a weather phenomenon she’s learned to predict. “But lately, I’ve been seeing more girls following me. Ever since I started making content beyond, you know, just porn.”

Eunbi snaps her fingers, like she’s had an idea. “Hey, Yujin… do you think I should start streaming on Twitch too?”

Yujin looks at her over the rim of her cup, like she’s evaluating a new piece of furniture. “Should you? Eunbi, that’s not even a question. It’s practically your duty! And I say that with no pressure, of course.” She smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that makes it clear the decision is practically made.

“Besides, you already have everything. You’re charming, fun, and just mysterious enough to keep the audience hooked.”

Eunbi laughs, but you can see the idea starting to appeal to her. She turns to you. “Do you think I should try it?”

“Definitely,” you reply. “And if you need, I can handle all the tech stuff. I can even set up notifications that scream ‘let’s fucking go’ every time someone subscribes.”

Yujin laughs, nodding, and takes another sip of her coffee. “That’s it! People love that kind of silly stuff! Oh, and another thing, Eunbi: Twitch could be a gateway to other types of content. You can show you’re a whole person, you know? Talk about whatever you want. Books, music, I don’t know, the best kind of tea—anything that makes people see you’re more than a pretty face and a name. It’s marketing, it’s fun, and honestly, it’ll protect you a bit from objectification. They won’t just see ‘Eunbi, the hot girl from OnlyFans,’ but ‘Eunbi, the one who chats about everything for an hour and makes it interesting.’”

Eunbi blinks, surprised. “Does that actually work?”

“More than you think,” Yujin responds with a mysterious smile. “And, over time, you won’t even need to explain you’re more than what they see. They’ll already know.”

“So… that’s it,” Eunbi says, looking at you with an expression that’s part excitement, part slight fear. “Get ready, you’ll have a lot of work helping me set things up.”

Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s going to be great, sweetheart. And we’ll definitely do some streams together. We’ll break the platform.”

You look at Yujin, a thought bubbling up in your mind. “So, Yujin,” you start, as if about to ask the secret of the universe, “since we’re talking about this spotlight thing… Who’s the most famous adult content creator you’ve ever met?”

Yujin doesn’t hesitate for a second. Her eyes light up, and her smile widens like someone about to recount a legend.

“Karina.”

The word comes out with an almost tangible reverence, and both you and Eunbi lean in slightly closer, as if pulled by a collective magnet of admiration.

“Karina?” Eunbi repeats, curiosity shimmering in every syllable.

Yujin nods, with that distant look of someone who’s seen the Mona Lisa or the Taj Mahal up close on a sunny afternoon. “Karina isn’t just famous. She’s, like... an entity. Tall, graceful, perfect hair and skin, a flawless body, and a sense of style that could make anyone feel like a shabby peasant just by existing in the same room.”

“Hmm, I see. So… she’s pretty?” you ask, choosing the simplest word so it’s not too obvious that you already know who she is.

Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “Pretty? Honey, pretty doesn’t even come close. She’s stunning. Impeccable. The kind of person you look at and think, ‘Will my mom forgive me if I drop everything to devote myself to this woman?’”

Eunbi lets out a small laugh, but it’s clear she’s just as fascinated. “And she’s actually nice to talk to and all?”

“Oh, absolutely. You’d expect someone like her to be arrogant, right? But Karina is sweet, kind. When she speaks, it feels like she’s dedicating all her attention to you. She makes you feel like the most interesting person in the world.” Yujin sighs, as if reliving a pleasant dream. “She’s polite with everyone, never makes anyone feel uncomfortable. It’s almost surreal.”

“Wow, she sounds like a myth.” Eunbi sighs.

“Almost, yeah,” Yujin admits, leaning back. “She’s a woman of class, you know? If I were to describe her... She’s like an old Hollywood movie star, but... updated for the internet age.”

Eunbi’s gaze slowly slides over to you, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And you, babe, have you heard of this goddess?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep your composure, but your mind feels like it’s racing to avoid the tricky questions that are clearly coming. “Well... maybe I’ve heard of her... once or twice... around... on the internet.”

Eunbi raises an eyebrow, a smile beginning to form. “Once or twice, huh?”

Yujin doesn’t miss a beat, her gaze sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m sure he knows exactly who I’m talking about!”

“I really don’t know if I know her,” you reply, with the conviction of someone trying to dodge an unfair accusation.

Yujin laughs out loud, shaking her head. “Oh, come on. Everyone’s seen at least one of her videos. She’s practically a cultural landmark. Like... like watching The Godfather or something.”

“I’m not ‘everyone,’” you insist, trying to maintain some dignity.

But Eunbi and Yujin exchange glances and burst into a shared laugh, clearly amused at your expense. “Of course not,” Eunbi says, pretending an exaggerated innocence, while Yujin nods as if fully agreeing.

“Right,” Yujin says, with a wink. “You’re totally immune to that sort of thing, for sure.”

“Okay, okay, but does she only do videos or... anything else?” you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

“Well,” Yujin begins, “She’s also an escort. And, well... they say her rates are higher than the national debt of a small country. But she’s worth every cent—at least, that’s what those who’ve paid say.”

Eunbi scrunches her nose, as if trying to imagine the price and eventually giving up on the math. “So, basically, she’s perfect. Like... the adult version of Barbie?”

“An adult Barbie mixed with the Mona Lisa and a dash of Cleopatra,” Yujin says, gesturing dramatically, as if her hands could illustrate such divinity. “But seriously, I loved chatting with her. Really. We met at a party in Dubai, it was an incredible night, I even got nervous when I saw her, but she was so sweet and patient with me that I almost felt like her close friend.”

Eunbi and you look at each other, sharing a mixture of disbelief and fascination.

“She sounds almost unreal,” you finally say, still trying to process the idea.

Yujin laughs, shaking her head. “She is. And the best part? She knows it. But unlike many, she doesn’t put on a show. She just... exists. And somehow, that’s more impressive than anything she could try to be.”

—

The apartment is bathed in the radiant light of early afternoon as you and Eunbi enter with Yujin, trying—unsuccessfully—to hide your nervousness under a casual façade. Yujin glances around, inspecting the space.

“Wow, what a cozy place,” she remarks. “Seems perfect for a young couple. But who knows, maybe you’ll, say, be able to expand things in the future, huh?”

Eunbi, smiling with a mixture of pride and discomfort, says, “Make yourself at home,” not quite sure what "at home" might mean for someone like Yujin.

“Oh, I will,” Yujin responds, her tone so suggestive that you and Eunbi exchange a shared, nervous glance, caught between laughter and cold sweats. Yujin then casts an investigative look around the room before dropping the question. “Can I see where you two film?”

“Of course!” Eunbi replies, excited. You both lead her down the hallway to Eunbi’s former room, still decorated with vibrant trinkets and stuffed animals. Eunbi explains with a shy smile, “Since we started dating, I moved into his room—it’s bigger. So this one became the studio.”

"You guys were living together before you were dating? That's wild!"

"We were actually roommates and best friends," Eunbi says.

"Oh, I get it! In that case, it's a really cute thing." Yujin examines the space with curiosity, nodding in approval. “Ah, the room I see in the videos,” she says, as if she’s stumbled upon the place where the Great Mystery unfolds. After a moment, she looks at Eunbi with a playful smile. “By the way, can I borrow one of your lingerie sets, princess?”

You blink, confused, and the question slips out before you can think: “Are… we filming now?”

Yujin raises an eyebrow and laughs, as if she’s dealing with a child asking why the sky is blue. “Yes, darling. I have a flight later for a podcast appearance,” she says, patient, as if this were a common part of anyone’s day.

You’re still processing the suddenness of it all when you manage to ask, “What podcast?”

“Sana’s podcast. You haven’t been on it yet, right?”

You and Eunbi look at each other, both trying to imagine the possibility, but Eunbi shakes her head, amused. “Not yet.”

“Oh, but I’ll make a recommendation,” Yujin replies with a wink, like a mischievous fairy godmother ready to pull a few invisible strings. “Sana is amazing. Hilarious, and she was one of the first to give us, adult creators, a place to speak, to give our opinions and combat insults. You guys should go. So many girls only got their break thanks to her support. She’s going to love you, I’m sure.”

Eunbi, now more excited than ever, responds, “Wow, it’d be amazing to do an episode with her.”

Yujin smiles like she’s just made a promise to fate itself. “I’ll make it happen,” she says, giving Eunbi a look. Then, with a casual gesture, she motions to you, as if giving a gentle hint.

“Now, sweetheart… could you give us a moment to get ready?” Yujin asks, more informing you than really asking, with a hint of gentle dismissal.

You feel your face warm, realizing this is your cue to step out. “Oh, sure. I… I’ll wait in the living room,” you reply, trying to seem more confident than you feel.

She closes the door with a cheerful “See you in a minute!” and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

—

Inside the bedroom-turned-improvised studio, Eunbi and Yujin glance at each other in the mirror, half-studying, half-laughing like two friends conspiring over some obscure secret—or in their case, a rather peculiar shoot. Eunbi gestures toward the closet with a kind of solemnity, inviting Yujin. “Go on, pick a lingerie set. There’s lots of colors. And styles,” she says, almost like she’s offering a valuable gem.

Yujin, without hesitation, slips off her bra and underwear, moving around the room with the confidence of someone, well, perfectly at ease with their own body. She picks up a blue lingerie set and holds it up, examining it with an almost scientific gaze. “Think it’ll look good?”

“It’ll look gorgeous,” Eunbi replies, already picking a pink set and undressing, letting her clothes drop casually to the floor. It’s funny how the situation feels both natural and tinged with a certain strangeness.

As she slides the lingerie on, Yujin glances at Eunbi from the corner of her eye. “You’re lucky, you know? Having a boyfriend who supports you in this kind of work… that’s rare.”

Eunbi nods, adjusting the strap of her bra. “He’s really supportive. He’s part of everything with me,” she says, smiling a little bashfully, which Yujin notices.

“A rare man,” Yujin remarks, looking at Eunbi for a moment, now that they’re both in just lingerie. “Most guys panic at the idea of their girlfriend doing this sort of thing.”

She pauses, her gaze quickly tracing over Eunbi. “By the way, let me just say—you look stunning like this, you know?”

Eunbi, surprised and a little shy, laughs and murmurs a “thank you,” adjusting her lingerie with a slight blush. Then, curious, she asks, “Have you ever dated anyone since you started creating adult content?”

Yujin lets out a sound that’s almost a laugh, tinged with a bit of irony. “I tried.I've met a few guys who seemed promising at first, but none of them were looking for a committed relationship. Not with me, at least. My last boyfriend broke up with me when I started filming porn videos. Preferred a life without, well, international popularity.”

“Oh…” Eunbi makes a sympathetic face. “And you were okay with that?”

“Better this way,” Yujin shrugs, almost indifferent. “These days, I sleep with lots of amazing guys and girls. Life goes on just fine, thanks.” She adjusts her lingerie, looking in the mirror with a critical yet satisfied gaze. “Oh, help me with the clasp back here?”

Eunbi steps closer to fix the clasp, still laughing at the comment, then asks with genuine curiosity, “Do you ever think about stopping one day?”

Yujin gives a conspiratorial wink. “When I’m a millionaire, absolutely.”

Eunbi raises her eyebrows. “Really? And is that close to happening?”

Yujin looks at her in the mirror, a smile spreading. “Closer than you’d think, darling.”

She finishes adjusting the lingerie and checks herself in the mirror, turning slightly to see how it fits. “So, how does it look?”

“Beautiful. Sensational. Sexy, even,” Eunbi replies, with a sincerity that’s almost playful.

The compliment comes back quickly: “And you look like a goddess, darling. God, I’d give anything to have those glorious breasts,” she sighs, with a dramatic touch of envy. “But, now, a serious question,” Yujin continues, looking directly at Eunbi. “Are you sure you’re not going to feel jealous during the filming?”

The question makes Eunbi give a nervous laugh, hesitating before answering. “No, no… it’s fine. We know it’s just work.”

But Yujin looks at her intently, as if she wants to be sure Eunbi really understands. “This is purely professional, Eunbi. He’s your boyfriend. Nothing’s going to change. When the camera’s off, everything goes back to normal, I promise.”

Eunbi sighs and admits, laughing a little. “Well… maybe part of me will feel a bit jealous, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Trust me, after the first time, you’ll get used to it,” she says, moving closer, looking at Eunbi with that same piercing gaze. Then, in a softer tone, she says, “You know what’ll help?”

“What?”

Yujin pauses for dramatic effect.

“Kiss me.”

Eunbi freezes, eyes wide as Yujin leans in slowly, a half-smile playing on her lips, savoring Eunbi’s surprise. “Relax, it’s just a kiss,” Yujin murmurs, her tone a mix of tease and tenderness. She waits for a response, but Eunbi just stays there, eyes fixed on Yujin’s lips, the gloss catching the light in a temptation too hard to resist.

Then, as if her body decides before her mind, Eunbi closes her eyes and lets herself be drawn in. Yujin’s lips touch hers softly, making her exhale as if the air suddenly got heavier. At first, it’s a tentative kiss, almost testing boundaries—a gentle brush, the taste of sweet strawberry filling Eunbi’s senses. But soon Yujin becomes firmer, tilting her head to deepen the kiss with a confidence only someone assured could manage.

Eunbi feels a hand slide slowly to her neck, fingers weaving into her hair, pulling her closer, and Yujin’s whole body aligns, pressing against her. “Breathe,” Yujin whispers against her lips, not pulling away, as if she’s guiding Eunbi to let go, to let control slip through her fingertips.

Eunbi releases a small sigh, something caught between nervousness and pure desire, her fingers trembling slightly as she holds Yujin by the waist, clutching there as if grounding herself. The taste of gloss, the soft scent of Yujin’s perfume, now so near, surround her, melding together and holding Eunbi captive, like a slow melody.

Yujin pulls away slowly, but not far, their faces still close enough for Eunbi to feel her warm breath. With that same mix of playful and affectionate smile, Yujin looks directly into Eunbi’s eyes, her fingers resting gently on the back of her neck. “See?” she murmurs, voice low and firm, almost like a secret. “The ice is broken now.”

Her thumb drifts to the corner of Eunbi’s mouth, where the gloss still glistens, brushing as if she’s wiping away the last trace of the kiss, and lets out a soft, satisfied chuckle. “No more tension, no more nerves. Now you know you can trust me.”

Eunbi just smiles back, heart racing, “I do trust you,” she replies, “and I’m ready to start.”

—

You’re stretched out on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone when a gentle voice breaks the quiet. You look up to find Eunbi and Yujin standing side by side, hands intertwined. They’re draped in fine lingerie that highlights each curve, every detail crafted to allure. Eunbi’s pink lace against Yujin’s cool blue creates a sight so captivating you’re left speechless.

Eunbi tilts her head with a small, teasing smile. “Well, we’re ready. Just waiting on you.” She winks.

Yujin leans closer, one brow raised, a grin on her lips. “Are you going to sit there all night or join us?” she teases, her tone light but authoritative. Turning to Eunbi, she wraps her arms around her neck, and they exchange a conspiratorial glance before laughing softly together.

You get up, trying to keep your cool as you follow them to the bedroom. Every detail set, an intimate little scene for just the three of you.

Inside the room, Yujin doesn’t waste a second. She watches you intently, her gaze that of a seasoned expert, and then commands, “Alright, just strip down.”

You hesitate, glancing at Eunbi for reassurance. She nods calmly, a soft encouragement. “Come on, babe. Just another video,” she murmurs, voice gentle but filled with affection.

One by one, you peel off each piece, stopping at your underwear. At this point, Yujin decides to break the mounting tension. She lets out a soft laugh, looks at Eunbi, and says, “Let’s just cut to the chase.”

Turning to you with a bold gleam in her eye, she says, “Excuse me, but I’m going to kiss your boyfriend.”

The air thickens, feeling both heavier and lighter, like some invisible barrier is about to come down. As it should. Yujin steps toward you, each movement filled with confidence, her eyes trailing over you, taking in every detail with a gleam that’s both professional and undeniably challenging.

She stops just inches away, her eyes glinting with intensity, a look that combines business with something raw and thrilling. “Are you ready, or do we need to spend all night convincing you?” Her head tilts, a smirk tugging at her lips, as she lifts a hand to your side, guiding it slowly to her waist.

Just a few steps away, Eunbi adjusts the camera on its tripod, trying to hide the flush in her cheeks as she focuses the lens, aligning the angle carefully. “Just so you know, I’m finding this hilarious,” she says with a smile, though her tone carries an undercurrent of affection and maybe a touch of possessiveness. She leans over to check the focus, her gaze briefly meeting yours before she looks back at the screen. “Better enjoy it… before I change my mind.” Her playful tone barely masks the blush spreading across her face.

Yujin chuckles, seeming to catch her drift. “Don’t worry, Eunbi—I’ll take good care of your boyfriend,” she says, her gaze never leaving yours. And without another word, she slides her hands to your neck, pulling you closer. Her lips meet yours, the kiss starting soft, giving you a moment to settle into the feeling, the sensation, before her fingers dive deeper, slipping along the nape of your neck, as though pulling you even closer.

Your hand moves almost on its own, resting on her waist, where the soft skin meets the lace. Your fingers drift up her back, and the kiss grows bolder, both of you falling into an easy rhythm. There’s a charged energy there, a delicate balance of nerves and a shared sense of release.

In one smooth movement, Yujin’s hand slides down your side to your waistband. She presses against the fabric, feeling the hardness beneath, a playful smile curling on her lips as she kisses you. She applies a bit more pressure, gauging your reaction. You feel warmth spread over every muscle, a pulse of nerves mixed with expectation.

“Oh, so this is how you respond,” she whispers, her lips brushing yours, voice barely more than a breath. Her hand tightens, confidence clear in her touch.

Eunbi, now finished setting up the camera (it's new, now your recordings will be in 4k), watches from a short distance, arms crossed, feigning impatience. “Alright, Yujin, I think that’s enough.”

Yujin steals one last kiss before pulling back, smirking. “Alright, Miss Eunbi, all done here.”

“Perfect,” Eunbi responds. “Now, boxers off, and sit down on the bed, babe. Let’s get started.”

Trying to look composed, you strip off your boxers and take a seat at the bed’s edge. Eunbi hands you the camera, which distracts your mind—focusing on capturing every moment makes it a bit easier.

Holding the equipment steady, you watch as Eunbi and Yujin kneel between your legs, each settling into position with a practiced balance of intimacy and poise. You adjust the camera, aiming to capture every detail as they lean in close. Through the lens, you see Yujin’s confident experience alongside Eunbi’s eager, intense sincerity.

“Alright, let’s begin,” you say, “One, two, three… rolling!”

Yujin moves first, her hand wrapping around your cock with steady ease, her tongue tracing slowly over every inch, savoring each part while her gaze locks onto yours with a playful glint. “Mmm, you taste so good,” she murmurs, tone teasing, confident.

Eunbi watches, her eyes tracing Yujin’s every move, soaking up each gesture and touch. When she can’t wait any longer, she leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the base, her gaze intense, filled with adoration and hunger, like she’s taking in every sensation, every detail.

"Like that, Eunbi, slow—make him feel every second," Yujin whispers, a subtle smile on her face, watching as Eunbi tries to match her pace. Eunbi gives a barely perceptible nod, determined yet completely surrendered, as if there were nowhere else in the world she'd rather be. She drags her tongue along the base while Yujin takes the tip, alternating pressure, surrounding you with an intensity that’s almost overwhelming.

"Are you enjoying this, love?" Eunbi asks, her voice soft, thick with desire. She meets your gaze, searching for the answer in your eyes. Her lips brush over your skin with a tenderness that contrasts with the heat of the moment, each kiss like a silent promise.

"More than you could imagine," you rasp, struggling to keep your focus on the camera.

Yujin laughs softly, pleased by the effect they both have on you. Without warning, she takes you deeper, her lips sliding firmly, rhythmically. Her tongue circles the tip, drawing slow, teasing loops before she pulls you in, creating a pressure that sends waves of tension up your spine. "I'm going to make you lose control, and Eunbi will help," she says, a teasing tone underlying her words, her eyes alight with purpose.

Driven by her own desire, Eunbi switches between soft kisses and playful licks, exploring every inch with quiet determination.

"Yes, just like that, but firmer," Yujin instructs, holding the base as Eunbi joins her, their faces close enough that their hair nearly tangles. The combination of Yujin's precise skill and Eunbi's gentle touch is mind-blowing.

They work in tandem, Yujin taking the head as Eunbi trails her tongue along the base, each motion coordinated, each touch a new peak of pleasure. At one point, Yujin lets a hand slip down to your balls, massaging with delicate care as her mouth moves with increased intensity. "Let’s get this cock dripping wet," Yujin whispers, her gaze never leaving yours, heat flooding your body.

Emboldened by the rhythm and intensity, Eunbi lowers further, kissing along your thighs, each touch warm and light, as though she’s claiming the space. "You’re so hot, baby," she murmurs, running her tongue over your balls, alternating licks and soft kisses, every motion like a declaration of her desire.

The camera catches every detail—the looks, the touches, the mouths moving in perfect sync as Yujin and Eunbi work together, drawing you closer to the edge. Yujin’s eyes hold that knowing, wicked gleam, while Eunbi, lost in her own admiration and passion, gains confidence with each passing second.

They switch off, Yujin licking her way up your length as Eunbi focuses on the head, each pouring all their attention into every touch. In one moment of pure synchronicity, they glance at each other, smiling, and begin sucking together, Yujin lower, Eunbi at the top, her tongue teasing with playful swirls.

"Look at him," Yujin whispers to Eunbi, fingers brushing along Eunbi’s thigh for encouragement. "Show your naughty boyfriend how much you want this."

Eunbi follows her lead, lifting her gaze to meet yours, her eyes warm and inviting. She holds you firmly, her mouth hot and soft around you, sending a flush through your body.

"Now let’s play with your tits, princess," Yujin suggests.

Eunbi pulls away from your cock, her pink lips gleaming with saliva. Keeping her eyes on you, she reaches back and, with a graceful, deliberate motion, unhooks her bra. The fabric slips away, baring her firm, full breasts, her nipples already hard. She smiles, confidence and desire radiating from her every move.

Yujin watches intently, her gaze hungry. "I think we’ll need a little extra help with this, don’t you?" she murmurs, smiling with intent. Leaning toward Eunbi, the two share a conspiratorial look before each one lets a thin line of saliva drip down onto Eunbi’s breasts, warming the already flushed skin.

Eunbi bites her lip, her body reacting, and Yujin slides her hands over Eunbi’s chest, spreading the moisture slowly, her fingers caressing and squeezing. "This will feel even better for you," she murmurs, looking over at the camera, her voice low and sultry.

Eunbi shifts closer, pressing her breasts softly around your cock. The way they are—the skin glistening with saliva, the hard, pink nipples, the slow, careful movements—is perfection. Yujin smiles at you, dimples showing, her confidence somehow heightening the intensity of the moment.

Eunbi presses her breasts tighter around you, surrounding you in her warm softness. She begins to move in a measured rhythm as Yujin helps guide her motions, both of them keeping their eyes on you, capturing every reaction.

"Do you like it like this, love?" Eunbi asks, her voice low, full of affection and lust. She quickens the pace, alternating between sultry glances your way and shared smiles with Yujin.

You can barely respond, caught up in the sight—the gentle, devoted touch of Eunbi contrasting with the predatory gleam in Yujin’s eyes as she takes in each detail, enjoying every moment.

Yujin catches the look on your face, a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "Oh, I think he’s loving it," she murmurs. Then she moves closer to Eunbi, licking her own lips before leaning in to kiss her.

Eunbi sighs against Yujin’s lips, her chest still pressed against you, her breasts soft and warm as she continues moving. "He loves watching us like this," Yujin whispers to Eunbi, a slow, wicked smile curving her lips. "Look how he’s reacting."

She turns her gaze back to you, eyes full of intent, and murmurs, "I love making you feel good, baby."

Yujin pulls Eunbi in for another kiss, deeper and more urgent. She whispers something in Eunbi’s ear, something you can’t hear but that makes Eunbi smile and press even closer, her energy insatiable.

Her hands grip tighter, intensifying the rhythm, each stroke a heated slide against your skin. Beside her, Yujin slides a hand under her own panties, barely containing her own need as she watches, fingers getting wet as she slides them into her pussy, her eyes fixed on the two of you.

"You look so damn good between her tits," Yujin purrs, a wicked smile on her lips. She pulls her hand from her panties, fingers shining, bringing them to her mouth, licking them clean while keeping her gaze locked on the scene before her. "My panties are soaked just watching," she murmurs, a laugh escaping as she bites her lip.

Spurred by Yujin’s words, Eunbi picks up the pace, her breasts squeezing tighter around you, her mouth teasing as her tongue flicks over your tip. Each time she moves down, she presses closer, feeling every throb. "God, this feels so good," you groan, "I'm so fucking turned on, babe."

Yujin lets out a moan of her own, fingers circling faster against herself. "Oh, Eunbi, you're making your boyfriend feel so good… just look at him," she taunts, licking her fingers again before slipping them back between her thighs, her wetness echoing as she loses herself to her need.

Seeing the look of heated anticipation in Yujin’s eyes, Eunbi leans in closer, pressing her breasts around you in a tighter, more intense rhythm, her mouth quirking into a teasing smile. "You want him to fuck that wet little pussy of yours, don’t you, Yujin?" she murmurs, voice low and provocative.

Yujin moans, biting her lip, her fingers digging into her own skin. "Yes… I want him. I want to feel him… all the way inside me," she whispers, her voice trembling with pure need, her eyes ravenous as they fix on you.

Eunbi chuckles softly, not missing a beat as she continues, pressing you even more firmly as she commands, "Then beg, Yujin! Beg my boyfriend, ask him to fuck you just like you want, you little slut." Her voice rings with a possessive edge that only intensifies her allure.

Yujin doesn’t hesitate. She moans louder, fingers sinking deeper as her eyes meet yours, burning with desire. "Please, baby… fuck me," she pleads, voice nearly a whimper, her face an open invitation. "I need that thick, hard cock stretching me, filling me. Please, make me yours. I want every inch of you," she begs, her words broken by gasps as she keeps touching herself, her hips moving in rhythm, fully surrendered to you.

Watching them, the desire inside you grows with each word, each desperate movement. "I'm going to give you exactly what you want, Yujin," you murmur, voice promising, sending a shiver through her. "I'm gonna wreck that pussy."

“Then do it, baby,” Eunbi urges, pulling her breasts away from your cock. “Ruin this little slut’s pussy.”

The tension in the room reaches a boiling point.

Yujin slips off her soaked panties, kicking them aside as she lies back, legs open, body utterly exposed and eager. Her eyes glint with anticipation as you position yourself between her thighs. Holding your cock firmly, you tease her entrance, just enough to feel her warmth but without fully entering. That light touch alone makes Yujin moan, her body arching, begging silently.

She glances over to Eunbi, eyes playful. “And you? Just going to stand there?” She smiles, taunting, face pure lust. “I want you here, Eunbi... want to feel you on my tongue.”

Eunbi chuckles, her laugh sultry and wicked, and without hesitation, she slips off her own panties, moving to Yujin. Smiling, she positions herself over Yujin's face, thighs spread, lowering herself just enough so Yujin can taste her as she wants. “Then make it good, Yujin,” Eunbi orders, voice low and powerful. “I want to feel every lick.”

Yujin doesn’t need another word. Gripping Eunbi's thighs, she pulls her closer, her tongue diving eagerly between her folds, sucking with a nearly desperate intensity, her muffled moans vibrating against Eunbi's body.

Meanwhile, you press a little harder against Yujin's entrance, still teasing, letting her feel each inch but still not giving in. She arches, pressing herself up to meet you, pleading silently. “Please… put it in,” she whispers, voice dripping with need as her mouth never leaves Eunbi, each lick growing more ravenous.

With a knowing smirk, you oblige.

Yujin writhes beneath you, adjusting her hips to take you fully. “Oh god! Oh- Fuck yes! This is what I wanted!” she gasps, her voice thick with desire.

Eunbi, perched over her, grips her own breasts, fingers teasing her sensitive nipples. “Yes, Yujin… keep eating me out,” she moans, voice trembling as Yujin's tongue circles, exploring every part, making Eunbi shiver on top of her. She meets your gaze, cheeks flushed, and grins wickedly. “You like watching Yujin eat me out while you fuck her, don’t you?”

“Yeah… fuck, I love it, you’re both so fucking hot,” you breathe, voice barely more than a whisper.

Yujin squirms under Eunbi’s weight, moaning into her wet pussy, the sound muffled but enough to stoke your own arousal. “Harder,” Yujin murmurs between licks, “make me feel every inch, don’t stop… I want you to fuck this tight little pussy deep.”

You pick up the pace, your hips slamming against her with more force, feeling the pressure building around you. One hand finds Yujin's clit, rubbing in slow circles, and she bucks against you, a louder moan escaping her.

Eunbi watches, biting her lip, her body tensing as Yujin devours her. “Yes, baby… keep going, fuck her deeper,” she encourages, grinding down, forcing Yujin’s mouth to work harder.

Your hand moves expertly, fingers tracing circles over Yujin’s clit while you thrust, feeling each tight pulse around your cock. With each thrust, her body arches, her face buried between Eunbi’s thighs, making her moan louder with each lick, every touch more intense.

Eunbi smiles at you, a mix of pleasure and taunt, biting her lower lip. “Go on, babe… fuck her good,” she whispers between moans, “I want to hear her scream for you.” Her words push you over, and you increase your rhythm, pounding her, Yujin’s body responding to each deep stroke. Her legs quiver, fingers gripping the sheets, nails digging in as her mouth stays busy between Eunbi’s legs.

Yujin, overwhelmed by the pleasure, lets out muffled moans, each sound vibrating against Eunbi, making her grind down, moaning even louder. “Yes… don’t stop, don’t stop,” Yujin pants, her voice broken with pleasure as her body tightens around you, breath coming in gasps.

Eunbi looks at you, her voice soft, almost a whisper, full of encouragement. “That’s it, babe… keep going… give her everything! Make her come, make her feel your cock in every inch of her,” she teases, her eyes bright as she presses down harder on Yujin’s mouth, lost in the sensation of her tongue.

You lean forward, increasing the pressure on Yujin's clit as you thrust deeper, your fingers moving faster, more insistent, the camera shaking in your other hand (you’ll thank the image stabilizer later). Yujin’s moans grow frantic, her body arching again, every muscle tense. “Yes… I’m gonna come…” she cries, her voice breaking as her body shudders in climax, while Eunbi lets out a cry of her own, lost in the rhythm of Yujin’s tongue.

Yujin’s entire body shakes, muscles tight as she surrenders completely, her voice hoarse, almost shouting. “Ah… don’t… don’t stop… it’s so good, so… ahhh, yes! Harder… more… I…!”

Your fingers press down harder on her clit, stroking in time with each thrust as you sink deeper, feeling every pulse of her tight little pussy. Yujin bites her lip, a choked scream escaping as her hands grip the sheets, eyes squeezing shut, lost in ecstasy. “Oh… my… god… I’m… ahhh, I’m coming, don’t stop, please!”

Eunbi, still perched over Yujin, watches, eyes bright with arousal, her own moans heightening as she sees Yujin’s state. She urges you on, her voice soft but fervent. “Yes, babe! Make this slut come on your cock… make her lose control!”

Then, Yujin’s body seizes, a sharp cry tearing from her throat as she squirts over your thighs and onto the sheets. “Ahhhh! Yes… yes… ahhh! I’m- Oh God! Mmm, I’m coming…!” Yujin practically sobs, her body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through her, surrendering fully to the overwhelming intensity.

Eunbi lifts herself, lips parted, watching Yujin with awe. “My god, Yujin… look what he’s done to you,” she murmurs, barely holding back her own desire.

Still flushed and breathing heavily, Yujin laughs quietly, her cheeks pink, eyes half-lidded as she looks up at you, body still tingling from the aftermath. “Fuck… that cock… made me come so good,” she whispers with a smile, gaze locked on you.

Eunbi, eyes alight with a mix of possessiveness and lust, gives you a provocative smile, biting her lower lip. “So… now you’re going to fuck your girlfriend, aren’t you?” Her voice is laced with challenge and excitement. She positions herself at the edge of the bed, on all fours, ass lifted toward you, offering you the perfect view, while Yujin moves up, legs spread wide in front of your girlfriend.

With a mischievous glint, she spreads her wet folds with her fingers, beckoning Eunbi’s face closer. “Come, Eunbi… lick me while he fucks you,” she whispers, her hand gripping Eunbi’s hair, guiding her closer. “Yes, give me that tongue… show me how well you can eat pussy,” Yujin continues, moaning as Eunbi’s mouth begins to work on her.

Standing behind, you position your cock and slide slowly into Eunbi, feeling her hot, tight walls surround you. A groan escapes your lips as you sink deeper into her, each inch pulling you in. “Fuck, Eunbi… you’re so wet… so good,” you whisper, lost in the intense pleasure.

Eunbi, gasping between licks on Yujin, pants. “Yes, babe… fuck me… deeper… I want to feel you filling me.” She moves back against you, hips circling, each thrust pulling you in further, her ass trembling with each motion, every deep stroke drawing fresh moans from her.

Yujin, delirious from the feel of Eunbi’s tongue against her dripping cunt, grabs her hair, pulling just a little to savor every lick even deeper. “Ahhh, Eunbi, just like that… keep going… Mmm, you're such a slut!” she breathes, her words slipping between moans, eyes squeezed shut as each brush of that soft, wet tongue over her sensitive folds drives her wild.

The tension surges as you thrust deeper, your hands gripping Eunbi’s hips tightly, each push pulling louder, needier sounds from her. “Fuck… so tight,” you murmur, feeling her wetness, her warmth, tightening around every inch as you plunge in. Eunbi can barely keep up as she sucks Yujin, her own body trembling, pressing back against you, every move inviting you to go harder, deeper.

Yujin watches, her lips parted, a throaty moan escaping as she locks eyes with the sight of you taking your girlfriend. “Mmm, fuck,” she chuckles between moans, “You two are so fucking hot!”

Your grip on Eunbi’s waist tightens, her slick cunt clenching around you, and you lean close to her ear. “I’m taking that sweet ass next, babe.” She shivers, biting her lip, and breathes a shaky response. “Yeah, do it… fuck my ass… I want it,” she whimpers, her voice thick with excitement and anticipation.

You guide yourself, pressing the head of your cock slowly against her tight little opening, watching her stretch to take you in. Bit by bit, you slide forward, filling her.

“Ahhh… so tight,” you murmur, your breaths ragged as you film every inch with the new camera, capturing in 4K the way her snug ass opens around you. Eunbi lets out a loud moan, her head thrown back. “Yes, take it… let him wreck that ass,” Yujin whispers to her, reaching down to touch herself as she watches.

“Yes… yes, fuck my ass… fill me, go deeper…,” Eunbi moans, her voice quivering, her whole body alight as you sink in.

Holding her hip firmly, you draw her back, your cock fitting fully inside her tight hole, feeling each part of her yielding to your slow, deliberate rhythm. She lets out a long, low groan, head thrown back, face twisted in a blend of pain and pleasure as she adjusts to the intense stretch.

“Ohh, yeah… keep going… fill me up, I can take it,” she moans, eyes half-lidded, biting her lip, face flushed in pure ecstasy. Each thrust is a new adjustment, feeling her intense tightness, each slide bringing a fresh wave of sensation. “You love this, don’t you, you little slut?” you taunt, voice gravelly, pushing deeper.

Eunbi squirms, her body trembling with each thrust. “Mmm, Yes! Fuck, I love feeling you wreck me… Keep using me, babe, keep- Oh! Like that, baby! Yeah!” she responds, voice shaky, cut off by erratic moans, completely surrendered. With each thrust, the wet, filthy sounds fill the room, bodies colliding in raw, unrestrained passion.

Yujin, still watching close by, runs a hand down her own dripping pussy, eyes fixed on the scene, filled with lust. “God, look at her… you’re destroying her ass,” she whispers, her voice loaded with excitement.

Your firm grip on Eunbi’s hips pulls her back, every inch sinking deep into her tight little ass, feeling her muscles surrender to the slow, deliberate rhythm. She lets out a long, low moan, her head thrown back, her face mixing pain and pleasure as she adjusts to the intense stretch.

"Fuck, babe, watching you eat her pussy gets me so fucking hot," you growl, voice rough, thrusting even deeper. Your hand rises, landing a hard slap on her ass.

“Ow, babe! Yes, slap me! Don’t stop, wreck my little ass, fuck me good!”

Eunbi's moans fill the room, blending with the sound of your hips colliding with her body. Each movement is met with a sharp smack that leaves her skin tingling. “Ahhh, harder… fuck, go deeper… break me,” she begs, her voice hoarse, totally lost in the intense pleasure as you keep pounding, every slap drawing a new moan, louder and dripping with lust.

Yujin, lying on the bed with her legs spread, holds Eunbi’s face firmly, guiding her back to keep licking. “You two are going to make me cum just watching… keep sucking, baby… Mmm, yeah! Just like that! I’m so close, don’t stop!” Yujin moans, her voice trembling as her body arches, writhing with pleasure under Eunbi’s relentless tongue work. Eunbi’s mouth moves faster, sucking with fervor.

“Yeah, Yujin, cum all over her mouth… let my girl taste you,” you say, watching the wild scene unfolding, slowing your thrusts to let Eunbi focus on making Yujin climax. Your girlfriend responds with a muffled moan, intensifying her movements, eyes shut tight in pure concentration, determined to bring Yujin to the edge.

Eunbi feels Yujin’s body tense under her tongue, each shudder racing through her like a live current, her moans rising until they turn into raw, guttural cries. “Ahhh… yes, Eunbi… right there… make me cum, don’t stop!” Yujin practically screams, her nails digging into the sheets, back arching, utterly lost in the moment. Her breaths come fast, each gasp a wave, as Eunbi continues licking with unwavering devotion, her tongue tracing and exploring every wet, trembling inch.

Eunbi, lips and mouth fully devoted to Yujin’s pleasure, mutters through a mouth full of desire, “Cum for me, you dirty slut.” She grips Yujin’s thighs, pulling her closer, not letting any motion escape, savoring every drop. Yujin, utterly spent, sinks her head into the pillows, moaning as the waves of an overwhelming orgasm crash over her.

“Fuck, Eunbi… ahhhh… I’m cumming… cumming in your mouth…!” Yujin gasps, lost in breathless moans and broken cries.

Eunbi’s tongue laps eagerly, drinking in every drop of the hot release that spills from Yujin. She swallows it all, low moans vibrating as she savors the rich taste. With her face still glistening, Eunbi leans back, enough to release a heavy sigh, feeling you sliding your cock in and out, slow and deliberate. “Ahh… I’m close too… almost there,” she whispers, voice thick with need. Yujin, still basking in the glow, laughs softly, a wicked gleam in her eye, as she slowly rises, hand reaching out to take the camera from you with a playful grin. “Let me handle this now… it’s time to make this sexy girl lose it.”

You pull slowly out of Eunbi’s ass, watching her shiver from the sudden emptiness. Now with the camera in Yujin’s hands, the heat in the room rises even more. “I’m capturing everything from this angle… from below, catching every detail.” She asks Eunbi to stand up, guiding you both to place a leg on the bed, opening up to the camera’s raw, unfiltered view.

The two of you follow, adjusting your legs as Yujin instructed, exposing your bodies fully to the camera’s keen eye. Breathing heavily, Eunbi steadies herself, half-closed eyes watching as you position yourself behind her, ready to continue. Yujin kneels just beneath her, angling the camera from the floor so it perfectly captures your cock lined up to press back into Eunbi’s ass, her face already anticipating the pleasure. “Go on, honey… I want to see you ruin her ass.” Yujin murmurs, her voice thick with desire.

With a firm grip on Eunbi’s hips, you press against her tight entrance once more, pushing slowly until you’re fully inside. Eunbi cries out, her head tilting back as Yujin looks up, licking her lips. “That’s it, fill her up… I want to hear her moaning for you.” As the camera rolls, Yujin leans closer to Eunbi’s wet pussy, diving in hungrily, tongue exploring every part while the lens captures every second in vivid detail.

You clutch Eunbi’s hips tightly, thrusting deep into her tight ass, each stroke pulling raw, almost pleading moans from her. “This is what you want, isn’t it? To be fucked on every side like a dirty little slut,” you whisper, watching her face twist in pleasure, that wild glint in her eyes.

“Mmm, yes… yes!” Eunbi cries, barely able to form words as Yujin, still on her knees between Eunbi’s parted thighs, eats her out with hungry intent, focusing especially on her swollen, sensitive clit, licking and pulsing rapidly. “You love this, don’t you?” Yujin murmurs against her wet skin, voice tinged with mischief. “Having your man destroy your ass while I lick your wet pussy!”

“Mmm, Yeah! I love this so much, I feel so slutty.… don’t stop… fuck my ass harder, baby!” Eunbi begs, clutching her own breasts, every word punctuated by broken moans, Yujin’s fingers digging into her thighs, holding them wide open. You pick up speed, thrusting deeper, feeling her body tighten, her ass squeezing around your big cock as she surrenders completely, every inch of her body pulsing with ecstasy.

“She’s almost there, honey,” Yujin says, looking up at you with a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Make her scream, baby, make sure she knows who’s in charge.”

Eunbi writhes, half-closed eyes and face fully given over to pleasure, as you pound into her tight ass harder with each thrust. Her body quivers with each plunge, tense muscles, guttural moans spilling from her lips. Yujin, eyes fixed on Eunbi’s delirious expression, slips two fingers deep into her creamy pussy, moving with steady, firm thrusts, filling the room with the obscene, wet sounds of her every movement.

“Ah… yes… yes!” Eunbi nearly screams, the sound choked by your relentless pace. Yujin leans down again, mouth capturing her sensitive clit, making a lewd sucking sound, her fingers sliding in and out of that creamy, soaking pussy, her hand slick with the hot juices flowing in response. Eunbi’s body arches, utterly surrendered to both of you, every nerve alive with intense, violent pleasure.

Then suddenly, she can’t hold back—the climax hits her like a tidal wave. Eunbi’s eyes roll back, seized by an orgasm that takes control of her, body twisting, clenching in spasms as she cries out, a release that nearly takes her breath away. Her pussy tightens hard around Yujin’s fingers, releasing waves of hot juice as her ass contracts around your cock, like she’s trying to keep you inside, each pulsing contraction showing just how intensely she feels it.

“That’s it, baby… cum for us,” you murmur, Yujin’s fingers still working quickly, every motion drawing more aftershocks until Eunbi nearly collapses, trembling uncontrollably.

You hold Eunbi close against you, feeling each spasm slowly easing, her soft tremors still rippling through her body as the final waves of her orgasm fade. Her sweaty, flushed face rests on your shoulder, eyes closed, a look of pure satisfaction on her lips as she feels you slipping out of her, inch by inch.

Yujin rises slowly, her gaze smoldering as she looks at both of you, her mouth still glistening with Eunbi's essence. She finally unhooks her bra, tossing it aside, and without a word, pulls you in for a deep kiss. Her tongue slides into your mouth, unashamedly sharing the salty, tangy taste of your girlfriend’s pussy, still hot on her lips. It's a slow, wet kiss, where she delights in teasing you, her mouth moving with a firmness that leaves you tense, craving more.

Eunbi, still catching her breath, practically purrs with desire, her half-lidded eyes watching the two of you devour each other. “I want some too,” she murmurs, her voice husky, almost a moan. Yujin smiles against your lips, then pulls Eunbi close, bringing the three of you together in a kiss dripping with lust.

Your tongues meet, sliding against each other in a hot, chaotic frenzy, the taste of Eunbi mingling between you all. The three of you breathe harder, each of you more ravenous than the last, devouring one another with no reservations. Yujin whispers something between kisses, her voice a mischievous murmur. “You two drive me crazy... so delicious,” she says, her hand slipping to the nape of Eunbi’s neck, holding her firmly as she deepens the kiss, tongues tangling and teasing with each motion.

Eunbi moans softly against both your mouths, eyes closed, her fingers tracing along your thigh, slowly rising, each touch light and tempting. “You and her made me cum so good, I’ve never felt anything like that before,” she whispers, her face so close you feel the heat of her words. “But now, I want to see you cum for us…”

Yujin joins her, “Yes, baby, cover our faces with that hot cum.” The perverted tone in her voice only intensifies the heat pooling in your body.

“If that’s what you want, then both of you, get on your knees.”

Without hesitation, they sink down slowly, their eyes locked on yours, each movement a show of submission and desire. Eunbi kneels on your right, Yujin to your left, the two of them exchanging knowing looks and smiling, as if they already know what’s coming. Both of their faces glow with anticipation, mouths slightly parted, hungry gazes that don’t waver for a second.

You lean down, picking up the camera and angling it to capture every detail from above. The image on the screen shows Eunbi and Yujin looking up, lascivious smiles on their lips, eyes alight with excitement as they wait eagerly. “Look at you two,” you murmur, your voice thick with admiration and provocation. “My girls, so beautiful and submissive, ready to take my load.”

Yujin starts first, gripping firmly as her tongue slides over the tip, already slick with pre-cum. “Mmm... love your taste,” she murmurs, before opening her mouth and taking in the head, sucking slowly, feeling you throb against her tongue.

Eunbi watches, biting her lip, and soon joins in, leaning in to press soft kisses along the base while her hands caress your thighs and stomach, nails skimming your skin, leaving a trail of shivers. “Give us that hot load, baby,” she whispers with a voice full of desire, before licking slowly from the base to the middle of your shaft, leaving a wet trail as her eyes meet yours.

They take turns as if rehearsed, Yujin licking the frenulum with precision that makes you moan low, the tip of her tongue making slow, firm circles. Eunbi kisses along the length, making every inch wet and slick, creating a mix of warmth and moisture that leaves you harder than ever. “It’s so big… feels so good in my mouth,” she says, her hands stroking you as she looks up, that naughty smile on her face.

Yujin pulls Eunbi closer and murmurs, “Let’s show him how well we take care of him…” Together, they begin running their tongues along the length of your cock, one on each side, meeting at the tip, exchanging a glance before diving back in, Yujin sucking the head while Eunbi gently sucks on your balls, her lips wrapping around them softly, alternating between kisses and gentle sucks.

“You’re both going to make me cum like this…” you groan, unable to hold back the rising pleasure. Yujin looks up, her lips still wrapped around you, and mutters in a husky voice, “Then cum… we want every drop…”

They both intensify, Eunbi now holding the base firmly while Yujin begins to stroke you.

You feel control slipping away and warn, “I’m close…,” your voice hoarse, each second bringing you closer to the edge. Yujin keeps sucking the tip, her lips pressing against the frenulum with calculated precision.

The pleasure builds, your whole body tense as Yujin and Eunbi wait, kneeling and ravenous, their beautiful faces filled with anticipation. Yujin’s grip tightens, her hand moving faster and firmer as she watches you, her gaze fixed on your face, studying every reaction with visible satisfaction. “That’s it, keep going... let us feel everything,” she whispers, and increases the rhythm, sliding her hand with steady, relentless strokes, pushing you over the limit.

Eunbi watches each moment, licking her lips and sharing a provocative look with Yujin. “Go ahead, baby, don’t hold back,” she murmurs, her voice soft but urgent, her fingers moving slowly over your balls, pressing lightly, matching the pace of Yujin’s strokes, both of them fully focused on taking you to the peak.

Feeling the imminent release, you give a low warning, “I’m... I’m gonna cum…” They both smile, faces eager and hungry, leaning in closer, offering their faces as canvases ready to receive every drop. The first spurt erupts powerfully, thick and hot, hitting Yujin squarely, dribbling down her cheek to her parted lips. She moans low, an expression of absolute pleasure as the cum slides down, licking the edge of her lips, savoring it slowly,”Mmm, so fucking good!” she sighs, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Cum more, baby, please!”

The second spurt lands on Eunbi, splashing across her forehead and dripping down her face. She moans loudly, closing her eyes and leaning forward for more, letting the cum glide down her skin with a satisfied smile. “God... you came so much, baby,” she murmurs, licking her upper lip, tasting your release.

You’re not done yet, the accumulated pleasure so intense that the third burst shoots out forcefully, landing right between the two of them. They look at each other, faces messy and glistening with your cum, eyes sparking with desire as each lets her tongue slide slowly, teasingly, toward the spot where the last drop fell. You hold the camera steady, capturing every detail: the hungry gaze they share, the tips of their tongues meeting right in the center of that thick, warm mixture.

Yujin is the first to lean in, her tongue moving slowly across Eunbi’s cheek, licking a trail of your cum dripping down her face, savoring every inch with deliberate care. “Mmm, so good… hot and thick, just like I imagined,” she whispers, looking at you with a wicked smile before turning back to Eunbi.

Eunbi lets out a low moan, leaning in toward Yujin, her tongue finding drops at the corner of her friend’s mouth, and then her tongue slides a little further, sucking Yujin's chin, where there is a good portion of your cum accumulated. “Your cum tastes so good, baby,” Eunbi murmurs.

With the camera close, you capture the moment they start rubbing their tongues against each other, every movement intense, almost primal. Yujin chuckles softly, her hand caressing Eunbi’s face as she pulls her closer, lifting her own face slightly to spit onto Eunbi’s tongue, who receives it without hesitation. Yujin’s own tongue slides into Eunbi’s mouth with torturous slowness, mixing more of your cum with the taste of each other, low sounds of satisfaction echoing through the room.

Their mouths meet in a final, deep, wet, filthy kiss, licking and sucking everything away. The camera captures the final image: both of them with faces painted in your cum, eyes shining, wicked and satisfied.

You bring the camera closer, capturing every detail of their faces, smeared and glistening with the remnants of your pleasure. With a satisfied smile, you murmur, “Fuck, you two look absolutely gorgeous like this, my perfect cumsluts…” They look at each other and burst into laughter, a sweet, shared laugh, with that glint of someone who’s gone all the way and loved every second of it.

Yujin, wiping a last drop off Eunbi’s brow with her thumb, looks straight into the camera and, with a playful grin, asks, “So… did you enjoy this delicious experience? Was it worth it?”

You smile, nodding as the camera remains focused on their expressions. “It was perfect. Better than I could have imagined.” Eunbi, still catching her breath with cheeks flushed, admits with a satisfied sigh, “I… had no idea it would feel this good. You two… it was indescribable.”

Yujin wraps an arm around Eunbi and says warmly, “I knew you’d love it! Thank you for trusting me and diving in. You were both incredible.”

“Now… how about a little farewell for our audience?” you suggest, your tone playful. The two exchange a glance, and without hesitation, they press their cheeks together, bringing their hands up in a cute little wave, blowing kisses toward the camera. “Thank you for watching… see you next time!” they say in unison, an adorable tone that contrasts with what just happened, laughing softly as they say goodbye with their faces close, sharing light, carefree giggles.

You capture the final frame—two beautiful women, utterly relaxed, eyes still sparkling with excitement, completely caught up in the moment. With a final sigh, you end the recording, knowing you're one lucky fucking man.

—

You step out of the shower feeling like a conqueror of the world—or at least of your own little, unexpected corner of it. The coolness of the water still seems to dance over your skin, every muscle relaxed, every thought light, as if all the effort of the day had evaporated away. You throw on a T-shirt and loose pants and head into the living room, where the stars of the day—Eunbi and Yujin—are already settled in, looking comfortable, like veterans of many such adventures (and maybe, in Yujin’s case, that’s not far from the truth).

Eunbi is curled up in a hoodie three sizes too big, looking perfectly cozy, while Yujin’s wrapped in one of Eunbi’s borrowed robes, savoring a generous spoonful of ice cream.

“So, how are you two feeling?” you ask, the excitement in your voice almost dancing by itself.

The two exchange a knowing smile. “Relaxed,” Eunbi answers with a soft smile, her eyes still sparkling.

“Alive,” Yujin adds, pausing only to take another spoonful of ice cream. Then she turns to Eunbi with a casual look and a curious smile. “And the jealousy, honey? How’d you hold up?”

Eunbi blushes, but she doesn’t look away, accepting the question as a challenge. “You know… at first, yeah. It was hard seeing him… connecting with someone else. But as I watched how much he was enjoying it… I don’t know, I think I started enjoying it, too.”

Yujin laughs softly, clearly pleased. “Now that’s the spirit. And can I just say? For your first time with a girl, you were amazing.” She regards Eunbi with playful admiration. “And I’m not just talking about technique, you know? It was more… your enthusiasm.”

Eunbi blushes even more but doesn’t lose her smile. “Well… you made it easy.”

Yujin turns to you with that look of someone sharing the world’s most obvious secret, adding, “And you… I have to say, those guys who seem quiet and reserved… they always end up being the best. Must be something to do with… attention to detail.”

You chuckle awkwardly, trying to hide the satisfaction that still shows. “Look, I never… really imagined I’d be… with two incredible women like this.” You try, but words don’t seem to be enough.

“Oh, and getting paid for it, no less! How do you manage it?”

“The money and the adventures are great,” you begin, feeling a sudden inspiration, “but seeing my girl happy is what really matters to me. I’m just in this for her, and for as far as she wants to go.”

Yujin gives a playful look between you and Eunbi. “See? You two have something special. Most couples wouldn’t even consider this, but you? You’re here, having fun, creating intimate and unique memories, just embracing it all. No bullshit.”

Eunbi, still smiling with a mix of pride and tenderness, sighs. “Yeah… but honestly? I think what makes it work is that we… talk. Like, really talk.”

“Yes,” Yujin adds, “that’s rarer than it sounds. And don’t get me wrong, sometimes just the… physical part is great, you know? But having someone who understands and supports you? That’s the hard part to find.” She gives a soft, almost sentimental smile before diving back into her ice cream as if it were the last of its kind.

“So, is it time for your podcast with Sana now?” Eunbi asks.

Yujin nods eagerly. “Yep, straight from a hot session with you two to the spotlight.”

You laugh lightly. “Can’t believe we have a celebrity in our apartment. How do you handle all these commitments?”

She leans in with an exaggerated expression of importance, pretending to adjust an invisible crown. “Oh, darlings, you’re in the presence of a businesswoman. Important, in-demand, and… completely devoted to this fantastic ice cream!”

Eunbi smiles, her eyes shining with admiration. “I’m going to watch the episode! Bet you’ll steal the show!”

“You… err… You two are just so sweet, you know?” Yujin murmurs, but her voice breaks, a sudden, unexpected emotion making her words stumble. Tears start forming silently in her eyes as she tries, comically, to keep devouring the ice cream as if nothing’s happening. She laughs, a clumsy sob escaping as tears fall without ceremony. “Sorry, it’s just… you know, it’s so good. This ice cream… is emotionally very intense, I guess. It just caught me off guard.”

Eunbi, a bit alarmed, asks softly, “Yujin, are you okay?”

“Of course!” Yujin laughs again, still mixing her shaky voice with humor to brush it off. “It’s just… it’s like everything hit me all at once, you know? Just… tired. But nothing serious.” She wipes her tears with the back of her hand, smiling. “It’s not depression or anything, okay? Just a bit of burnout. Something light. Normal.”

You watch the tension unwind from her face, layer by layer, and feel something more than curiosity—real concern, that uncomfortable feeling of seeing someone who seemed unbreakable finally give way. You sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her with almost reverent care.

“Yujin,” you say, your voice low and steady. “If you need anything, anything at all…”

Yujin looks up, a little surprised, then smiles. It’s almost a painful smile, one that won’t quite admit that maybe, just maybe, she really does need that offer of help. She shakes her head. “No, really, you two are sweethearts. It’s just… you know, sometimes it’s all a bit too much. And then I forget. Forget to breathe. Forget to… I don’t know… take care of myself a little.”

Eunbi watches her closely, as if trying to decipher every word, every nuance. “It’s okay, you know? If you want to cancel the podcast… Sana will understand. It’s just one episode.”

Yujin takes a deep breath and shakes her head, this time with a determined look. “Oh, no… Sana is… Sana is one of the good ones. I want to go. It’ll be fun, I just need a little… I don’t know, pep talk, maybe?” She gives a short laugh, but sadness lingers there, lurking, and her hand still trembles slightly as she sets her ice cream bowl on the coffee table.

Eunbi, however, doesn’t give up. She holds Yujin’s hand between hers, firm and warm, grounding her, and says with a soft but resolute voice, “Yujin, no matter what happens… we’re here. For anything you need, really.”

For the first time, Yujin looks at you both without any of her usual masks, and you see a glimmer of something vulnerable, almost fragile. She opens her mouth, and for a moment, you think she might say something heavy, something real. But instead, she lets out a dry, melancholy laugh.

“Look at me,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “Here I am, getting all emotional, babbling a bunch of nonsense. God, I can be so ridiculous sometimes! But now that's enough, no more crying here! And I'm sorry about this, guys."

She gives you and Eunbi a look full of tenderness, as if she wants to capture this moment, this presence, this support that maybe, she hadn’t expected. She jokes, her voice still a bit shaky: “You know what? What if the three of us just formed a throuple, huh? A modern fairytale, all ours.”

You all laugh, the tension finally melting away. She wipes the tears from her eyes, standing up with a renewed energy. “Just kidding, of course. You two are wonderful together. If I joined this story, I’d probably just ruin the magic.” She shrugs, adjusting her borrowed robe. “Besides, I like having the bed all to myself. You know, no fighting over the blanket.”

—

Later, in the dark bedroom, you're completely out, already dreaming about absurdly nonsensical things. But Eunbi is nowhere near sleep. She’s lying there, shifting restlessly, as if waiting for you to wake up and ask what's wrong; finally, she loses patience and nudges your shoulder. Once, twice, three times, until you make some indistinct noise halfway between a snore and a "huh?"

“Are you awake, babe?” she asks, like the repeated pokes hadn’t already given her the answer.

“Now I am,” you mumble, still keeping your eyes closed. “Not like I wanted to sleep or anything.”

“Stop being silly,” she says, but her voice is soft, almost hesitant. There’s something in it that makes you crack one eye open. “I’m worried about Yujin.”

You turn to look at her, blinking in the dark to focus. “Hmm, Yujin? The same Yujin who posted stories just a few hours ago, smiling on the plane? The same Yujin who left our apartment on the phone about a sponsorship offer from a... vibrator brand?”

Eunbi sighs. “Yes, I know. But still… that doesn’t mean she’s actually okay.”

You let out a tired sigh, remembering how Yujin was—laughing, having fun, brimming with an energy that seemed unbreakable. Until, of course, she randomly started crying. “Yeah, that was… weird. But you’ve done that too, you know? I’ve seen you start crying out of nowhere sometimes.”

“That’s when I’m on my period, you dummy,” she mutters, resting a light but ‘threatening’ hand on your shoulder and giving you a gentle smack. “Totally different.”

You laugh, pulling her a little closer. “Alright, alright. But seriously, babe, Yujin’s an adult, you know? I’m sure this isn’t the first time she’s had a moment like that.”

“I know, but… should I have insisted that she rest?”

“You did more than enough,” you say softly. “She knows we were there for her. And I’m sure she’s grateful for that, you know? Just because she projects that ‘I’m indestructible’ vibe doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate the support. If she needs anything, she’ll text you or some other friend. She’s fine, don’t worry.”

Eunbi sighs again, but there’s a bit more ease in it this time. “Maybe you’re right…”

“Of course I am,” you say, pulling her in even closer. “And besides, we’re gonna see her again, remember? We’re gonna film more stuff together. We’ll get used to her freaking out, laughing, crying… it’s all part of the package.”

Eunbi raises an eyebrow, feigning a jealous look. “Oh, yeah? Who says we’re filming with her again? Did you like her that much?”

You chuckle, catching her playful tone. “Obviously. All for your success, babe. It’s just strategic thinking, you know?”

She laughs, giving your chest a light smack. “Alright, strategist. I'm just kidding. It was really fun, the whole… experience.”

“Good. Now, go to sleep,” you say, exhausted.

“Yes, Daddy,” she replies, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Oh, I like that,” you joke.

She rolls her eyes in the dark and replies, “Don’t even start.”

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hivemuthur · 4 months ago

Text

Hi Anons! Happy Freakday! Taking this amazing opportunity to mingle two into one:

Lips Where Lips Were

viktorxfemale!reader explicit. What's in here? Perverted yearning, panty theft and face sitting :v I'm sure the day was stressful for him :< Never lose sight of your laundry, folks!

word count: 3K

author’s note: I listened to Smoke City Underwater Love. @rennethen beta-read and she was sick doing it so double thank-yous! And as per schedule, I name Fridays Freakdays, and on most of those you can expect some Freaktor action.

—

It wasn’t planned at all when you stepped into the laundry room with a basket full of clothes. Pure coincidence—or call it fate, if Viktor dared to entertain such grand notions when it came to something so utterly embarrassing.

He had just been loading the washing machine, half full with his meagre three white shirts and a few undershirts, when the door swung open. You entered backwards, nudging it open with your ass, your face obscured by the tall basket cradled in your arms. But he recognised you instantly—by the back of your head, the curve of your neck, your ankles. Again, utterly embarrassing.

“Oh my God, are you washing whites? Please tell me you are washing whites,” you asked, not bothering with a hello.

Viktor eyed the laundry in your arms, picking up what you were putting down, but simply replied, “Yes, I’m washing whites.”

"Mind if I invade?" you asked, already shifting your weight forward, basket pressing into your stomach. "I’ve mostly got darks, but I’m running out of underwear."

Viktor swallowed, considering. Having your underwear washed with his—pretty good. You having no underwear to wear? Significantly better. Being unable to come up with explanation to denying you, he forced a nod, stepping back from his machine as if giving you space might help untangle the sudden knot in his throat.

"Be my guest," he said, voice steady despite the way his pulse stuttered.

You wasted no time, setting your basket down and beginning to sort through your clothes. Viktor watched as you moved, as your hands fished out a bundle of whites and dropped them in beside his. Then, with the ease of someone used to efficiency, you loaded a second machine with your darker clothes.

It should have been a nothing moment—mundane, forgettable. But when you leaned forward, he caught sight of a bra slipping from the heap in your arms, a delicate thing edged with lace, straps tangled. His mouth went dry.

A thought, insistent and utterly filthy, flashed across his mind—quick, scorching, and impossible to ignore. He almost turned away, almost shut the machine door to spare himself from his own treacherous imagination. But then, right there, in the tangle of fabric, were your knickers.

White as snow. Thin as paper. A tiny, pretty bow crowning the hem.

His fingers twitched. Good with his hands as he was, before he could think better of it, before his brain could catch up to his body, he snagged them—swift, seamless, a movement so smooth it almost convinced him it hadn’t happened at all. But the fabric in his pocket was real as day whenever he reached to check if it’s still there.

And now, Viktor has a problem.

He’s thought about returning them—washing them by hand and slipping them in with the rest of your white clothes. He’s also considered getting rid of them: throwing them away, tossing them out the window, burning them—anything that might make him stop. But whenever he comes close, he falters.

At first, just the thought of having a piece of fabric that was so intimately close to you is enough. Clutching onto the last ounces of self-respect he has, Viktor does nothing beyond tucking the knickers into his chest pocket, carrying them close to his heart whenever he feels like it.

The idea nearly backfires when Jayce asks him for a pen—the little metal loop catches on the fabric, almost pulling them out and exposing him for the depraved pervert he is.

From that point forward, Viktor says goodbye to your underwear every time he leaves his dorm. They lay splayed flat on his bed when he returns, and his mind instantly drifts to which parts of you they clung to. The curve of your ass, hugged tightly as you pulled them on. The waistband, with its little bow resting just beneath your belly button. And his favourite part—the delicate pouch fabric kissed by your sweet lips.

Then it happens again that his body overrides his mind’s restraint, compulsive in its betrayal. It’s a compulsion, yes, when his fingers unbuckle the belt, his hand palming his aching cock. It’s compulsive yet again when he undoes his fly, rubbing himself through his boxers, thinking of you. It’s compulsive when he pulls himself out and smears the precum pearling at the tip, pretending it’s your gentle fingers touching his heated skin.

And it’s utterly deranged when he reaches for your panties and brings them to his face. If he could snort it all up, he would. Instead, he holds it against his nose, inhaling deeply, greedily. It’s dizzying—the smell of you, sweet and intimate, proof that this was yours.

His fingers tease the head first, gliding over the aching spot just beneath, and he twitches in his own hand. His mind, corrupt and rotten, throws him the worst of images for this occasion—or the best, depending on how he looks at it. You, bending over, the seam of your underwear glaring at him from beneath your skirt. Your mouth, speaking his name. Then moaning his name as his hand is buried between your thighs.

His grip tightens around his cock. At first, slow, as he breathes in the remnants of you. He strokes himself languidly, knees bent over the bed’s edge, feet pressing hard into the floor. His hips thrust up, chasing more—more of anything to quell the ache inside him, the iron grip that coils low in his belly.

Your name spills from his mouth, ragged and desperate. He imagines you here, above him, thighs caging his head as you press down onto his waiting tongue. The thought alone has his cock twitching in his hand again, and he lets out a filthy groan, gripping himself harder.

And even though shame still lingers somewhere in the periphery of his thoughts, he cannot help himself. He splays the fabric over his face and licks where your lips have been cradled. And kisses there. And takes it into his mouth, sucking on it—the poor substitute for your soft pussy.

“Ah—fuck—” His breath stutters, muscles winding tight as he fucks into his own hand now. Fast and hard. His imagination runs wild—your taste on his tongue, your fingers tugging his hair, the way you’d roll your hips to use his mouth like you need it. He lets himself drown in the fantasy, slutty moans spilling from his mouth so loud he doesn’t hear the knocking. Or the door to his dorm room creaking open. Or the soft sound of feet shuffling on the floor.

You do knock. And you do call out, until you mistake a noise coming from his bedroom for one of pain. You rush in, clutching a shirt he mistakenly gave you with your batch of white laundry to your chest. And then you freeze by the door, when you hear the sound of your own name stumbling from Viktor’s lips in the filthiest, most sultry tone you’ve ever heard from him. Oh—the door is ajar.

Not that you haven’t imagined him doing it. Many times, possibly too many to count. But to imagine it and to hear it—raw and real, seeping into your ears so sweetly—is a completely different thing.

For a moment, you squeeze your eyes shut before holding your breath and stepping in carefully. Viktor is writhing on the bed, unaware, unseeing, his trousers slipped down his thighs, and his face covered with—oh. One hand pushes the fabric into his nose and mouth, and the mere sight has your thighs clenching under your skirt as you step closer, transfixed.

Heat floods your cheeks when your gaze drops to his other hand, to his cock—hard and flushed at the tip, sliding in and out of his grip as his hips thrust helplessly. He looks so absolutely, utterly hot like this, you almost want to let him finish—just to see the vulgar act of him cumming all over his stomach. Until, again—oh. You notice it—the panties are yours.

"Viktor," you whisper, bewildered.

He freezes. "Fuck!" The curse rips from him, loud and raw as he throws the underwear away from him like it burned, rolling onto his stomach with light speed. "Fuck." Again, muffled against the mattress. Then your name, a plea. "I'm so... so sorry."

You step closer, gaze flicking to where the discarded fabric landed. Slowly, you bend down and pick it up between two fingers, holding it up as you muse, "I thought I was missing a pair."

Viktor drops his forehead to the mattress and groans, frustration and shame bleeding into the sound. "I can't believe this is happening, I—"

"For how long have you had them?" you ask. There’s no accusation, only curiosity.

He says nothing. You bite your lower lip, eyes drawn helplessly to the curve of his bare ass, the tension in his shoulders, the way his entire body seems locked in mortification.

"Viktor," you try again, softer this time. "Look at me. Turn over."

"I beg you, spare me," he rasps. "I promise I will apologize properly, but please, please, leave."

But you don’t. You see it now—clearly, undeniably. Viktor has been pining for you as much as you’ve pined for him. And so you dare, your mind stunted with the sight conjuring ideas beyond the realm of reason, as you crawl onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath your weight and you settle beside him, sitting on the balls of your feet. Viktor presses his face harder into the sheets, as if willing either himself or you to disappear. "Please," he mutters, your name a breathless sigh, "this is mortifying."

You reach out, running a hand up his leg, fingertips tracing along the muscle, up to the swell of his ass in a gentle caress. Where you touch goosebumps prickle on his skin and you really, really have to resist the urge to bite on his pale cheek. "Viktor," you murmur, voice coaxing, "please look at me. I beg you."

He sighs into the bed, then slowly turns his head to face you, though he avoids your eyes. His face flushed all the way up to his cheeks, shame bleeding into skin. Swallowing hard, he says, “I am so sorry. I wasn’t… This is not—”

"Hey," you say softly, brushing the hair off his forehead. His eyes squeeze shut at the touch. You shift closer, lying on your belly beside him, and blow gently on his face. A breathy chuckle forces its way out of him, and finally—finally—he opens his eyes.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Hi yourself," Viktor murmurs, calmer now.

"I, uh—" you start, then bite your lip. "Can I… see you?" The words come out shyly, your breath held as you wait for his reaction.

"W-what?" Viktor turns, startled—only his torso, though. His hips remain stubbornly pressed to the mattress, much to your disappointment. His brows knit together as he waits for an explanation.

But you have no idea what to say, so you let your body speak for you. You exhale, closing the last bit of distance between you, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your forehead to his. "Please," you whisper, "you looked so… hot."

Your cheeks scald as you wait for his reaction, but disappointment and fear flee the moment Viktor's tongue swipes over his lips and—oh—he rolls over, revealing his pretty cock to you. It had been trapped in the crease of his thigh, held there by the dampness of his skin, still achingly hard.

You reach for him slowly, and he moans—his brows knitting—before you even touch him. Your fingers, palm facing down, trace over his balls before gliding up, the heel of your hand pressing along his length, your thumb circling beneath the head.

“Your cock is so pretty,” you whisper a quiet praise, and he shudders, pressing his nose into your cheek, his lips brushing yours, mouths hanging open. As your hand moves in tender strokes, Viktor can’t help himself, it’s invitation enough. His fingers tangle into your hair, and he presses his tongue between your lips, kissing you sloppily, desperately. "Oh God, yes," he mutters into your mouth.

The sound alone makes you moan, spurring you to move with more intent. In no time, you have him so worked up that the neglected dampness between your legs almost doesn’t bother you—but then Viktor’s tongue grows more insistent, his hands roam your body, and your hips buck involuntarily. He clocks it immediately, rasping into your mouth, “Sit on my face. Please.”

You choke on a sound between a gasp and a moan, barely having time to process his words before Viktor’s hands find your hips, guiding you forward. He shifts beneath you, pressing his back flat against the mattress, and tugs at you again, insistent and needy. His breath is hot against your skin as he urges, “Come here, please.”

Your legs tremble as you move, suddenly all shy and hesitant. You come to straddle his chest first, but oh, Viktor’s shame has melted into impatience once encouraged—his hands slide up, gripping your thighs to pull you the rest of the way until you hover above his face. His parted lips are so close that you can feel the ghost of his breath and it’s so unbearably warm you barely resist the urge to sink into him.

What’s in front of you, is his cock, still flushed and leaking, laying thick on his navel. Swallowing your nerves, you lean forward, bracing your hands on his sharp hips as you lower your mouth to him, wrapping your fingers around the base. Viktor groans beneath you, the vibration rippling against your skin and you can feel yourself leaking obscenely when he whines out his famous last words—“Fuck, you are so wet,” and his hot mouth meets your sex.

It's a sinful swipe, that first one. Has you gasping and gripping his cock tighter, before you remember what is it that you are holding. Your eyes widen, mouth huffing warm air over his length as you try to regain your bearings. But Viktor is relentless, thorough, as if he’s intent on devouring the very essence of you, memorising every crevice. His hands tighten on your thighs, pulling you down, grinding you against his mouth, burying himself in you.

It’s a thousand times better than a mouthful of your underwear—no comparison, really. Not that Viktor can think straight enough to measure the difference, not when his tongue finds its rhythm, plunging in and out of your hole. His head wrenches back into the mattress, chin teasing your clit, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. And then—he groans, a loud, wrecked sound, because your mouth has just wrapped itself around his cock.

Your lips part around the head, tongue flicking over the slit as your hand works the base, thumb pressing along the thick vein running underneath. He twitches so beautifully under your touch that you pause, pulling off with a quiet pop. Watching him glisten in your palm, this time it’s you who can’t help yourself—you glue your torso to his stomach, bury your face against his cock, and inhale long and deep through your mouth and nose.

Viktor shudders beneath you, a deep, broken groan muffled against your cunt. As if this were a conversation, you moan back, the vibration sending a shudder rolling through his muscles. Emboldened, he buries himself deeper, rubbing his chin against your sweet spot, fucking you with his tongue until your hips begin to move on their own, grinding down onto his face. And you—oh, you take him back into the warmth of your mouth, sinking down past the barrier of your throat. Drool spills down his length, slicking the ridges with every bob of your head.

What was merely an ember when you walked in on him now burns bright and hot in his loins. He snorts up whatever air you grant him between your movements, bracing himself for the blinding twist in his stomach that he knows is imminent. His muscles flex under your hands, and for a moment, he loses rhythm, parts his lips from you—and then he cums with a throat-wrenching moan, hard and heavy, spilling thick white into your mouth. You lick it all up, gulp on it, letting him make as many sounds as he likes, lifting your hips just enough so that your clit stays pressed against his chin.

When his cock begins to border on overstimulated, his hand finds your hair, and he tugs you gently, guiding you back to where you were—pressing you down onto his tongue. And you are so, so close. You straighten, brace yourself on his chest, and rut against him without restraint, dragging yourself over the flat of his tongue.

Viktor groans into you, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you where he wants you, letting you use him, consume him. Heat gathers and pools over in waves, tipping you beyond that edge—your body seizing as a raw, broken moan tears from your throat. With the sight of his pretty softening cock in front of you, his name spills from your lips, over and over, as you tremble and grind against his mouth. He holds you through it, drinking in every last shudder and cry until you finally collapse against him, spent and trembling.

Your ass slides off his face, splayed in front of his very eyes and Viktor suddenly realises something—all this time you’ve had no knickers on. “Why are you not wearing any underwear?” he asks, voice hoarse.

“Hmm, I thought I miscalculated, but turns out you took my last pair,” you smirk against his hip where your cheek is cradled. You place a soft kiss there to the peak of his bone and whisper, “You can keep it.”

#my writing #viktor arcane #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader #viktor x reader smut #viktor smut #viktor x f!reader #viktor x oc #arcane #arcane fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor nation #requests

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maxlarens · 11 months ago

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Driver!reader and oscar starting the race from p1&p2 and before they put their helmets and stuff they kiss one last time on the grid and people go like "awwwww" because it was somehow filmed

i feel like u sent this in to be like a concept or something but I HAD to write it. i’ve been writing for lando so much lately i’ve very much been missing oscar + driver!reader. plus i’ve not ever written them in an established relationship before!

It’s not like you and Oscar are a secret.

It might have been easier that way, to keep your relationship from the public’s prying eyes, but it’s not really your style. It’s not Oscar’s either.

Being public comes with its problems— questions from the media, awkward interviews, your respective PR teams going a little buck wild, extra contracts and NDAs to sign— but it also has its benefits.

You like be able to talk about him, like being able to call him your boyfriend. ‘Oscar Piastri, the driver for McLaren? Yeah, that’s my boyfriend’. You like hearing him say things about you, praise your driving skills, talk about you as a rival and as his girlfriend. It’s all you can do to stop grinning like a madwoman whenever you’re in his vicinity. You equally like that the press can’t comment meaningfully on it, can’t speculate wildly about the nature of your relationship when you’ve made it clear.

Some people hate it. They think you’re a silly little girl with her head full of romantic notions. No room for skill, for ruthlessness. Which is funny, given that Oscar receives only praise for “bagging you”. You think they’re just jealous; if not of the fact that Oscar’s dating you and not them, then of your duality. The way you can love Oscar wholeheartedly and also race Oscar wholeheartedly.

They’re not mutually exclusive in your experience.

Naturally, there’s a massive buzz about you and Oscar being P1-P2 on the starting grid.

You’re not particularly surprised. The MCL’s had been performing well all through practice, just as you and Lewis had. You pull out pole in quail, fastest Q1 and Q2, with Oscar hot on your tail. There’s a barrage of bizarre questions in the media pen,

Do you think Oscar’s grid position will impact your performance during the race? Why would it?

Will this affect your relationship with Oscar? No.

What happens if one of you wins and the other doesn’t? The same thing that happens every time anyone wins ever?

You’re confused by it. Bordering on snarky and sarcastic the fifth time someone asks if you and Oscar might break up over this. Rolling your eyes, thinking your true feelings are obvious, you tell some Italian journalist that yeah no we might break up if he doesn’t let me win.

It’s funny, objectively it’s hilarious. You and Oscar laugh over it later that afternoon. Send the clip to a group chat you’re in with a few drivers closer to your age. And so what if it’s still funny when clickbait articles and gossip sites start saying that the two of you have broken up.

There’s even more buzz about it by the morning of the race. Journalists you’ve already talked to have suddenly become convinced that you and Oscar are on the rocks. You can’t help but play into it a bit— partially for the benefit of your PR team— arriving separately, forgoing the couple snap that you usually grace Kym Illman with, giving vague no-comment answers when the media accost you.

Maybe it’s a little childish, a little dramatic. But it serves them right for jumping to conclusions.

You avoid any presenters on the grid walk, sinking into the protective circle made by your engineers. Staying behind the roped off areas until about 10 minutes to race start when you finally hop over the MCL in P2.

Oscar’s drinking water, looking smug when you push through McLaren engineers, so used to your continued presence that they let you in with ease.

“Hey,” you greet, reaching out to smooth the collar of his fireproofs, “How’s it goin’?”

“Mm,” he hums, cutting a glance behind you, which you take to mean that there are cameras trained on the two of you, a reporter trying to get your attention maybe, “I’d be better if I was on pole.”

You hiss mockingly, “Yeah, too bad. You gonna break up with me about it?”

He raises an eyebrow, lashes brushing his cheekbones as he looks down at you, “I didn’t know you read F1 gossip sites?”

You shrug in response, “Don’t need to. The media make enough noise about it.”

He hums again, smile pulling at his mouth while someone from Mercedes shouts at you to get back. Rachel probably. You should go, you really should. But Oscar’s so close and so cute in those black fireproofs.

“Good luck,” you say,

leaning forward to kiss him, hand on the back of his head. A slip of tongue, not so much to be publicly obscene, but enough to leave him wanting,

“You’ll need it.”

You hear the sweet sound of him laughing as you slip away, back to where your car is sitting on pole. Ignoring the reporter dogging at your heels for a comment you don’t really need to give.

like maybe unrealistic. who cares!

#oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #formula one fanfic #f1 fanfic #💫drabbles #drabbles:op81 #driver!reader #mercedes!reader

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coolwyous · 5 months ago

Text

┈─★ 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ when an unexpected breakup leaves you without a date to your sister’s wedding, it’s perfect, confident lara raj, the goalie for your university's hockey team, who jumps in to your rescue and volunteers to keep up a charade until your family is off your back. but as your friendship deepens, the lines begin to blur between what’s real and what’s for show.

ˎˊ˗ ❄️ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🔓୭˚. ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

➴ pairing: hockey player! lara raj x physical therapy major!f!reader

➴ genre + wc: 12k, college au, FAKE DATING!, mutual pining, extremely slow burn, friends to lovers, denial of feelings, charming hockey jock lara, super domestic and slice of life-y, reader is a chronic overthinker and people pleaser...., just more fluff idk

➴ you might want to tune in...: bubble gum - newjeans.

┈─★ a/n: goalie lara anyone? the hockey au expands w our favorite team mommy <33 this fic is set overlapping the events of ditto, so if you're waiting for ditto pt 2, this gives a tiny behind the scenes. i am so in love w writing the dynamics in this verse, i hope everyone enjoys! dani's upcoming fic will complete the trio and prob be the longest of the three. also should clarify: megan + ditto!y/n are freshmen; hlbwfil!y/n, lara and dani are sophomores; sophia and manon are juniors.

cw:// mentions of recreational drug use, some suggestiveness? also reader BRIEFLY dates a man...

[*set overlapping the events of ditto-- read first here if you don't want spoilers!]

a new semester, same routine. it’s your second year as the women’s hockey team’s resident physical therapist in training. kinesiology isn’t an easy major, but you love it with your whole heart, and the girls all make it worth it.

“i’m just saying, matching tattoos would look sick,” daniela says as the golden trio approaches the physio room after their showers.

“yeah, but not of each other’s faces,” megan grimaces. you laugh at the notion that dani would even suggest it.

“oh my god, the world’s most beautiful girl,” lara smiles, dropping down onto the cushioned bench in front of you.

“oh my god, i must be a mirror,” you grin back.

you won’t talk about your soft spot for the trio. you love all of the girls on the team, but there’s a special bond you built with the three musketeers. megan, the baby of the team, who opened up to you about how much she misses her mom as you walk her through some stretches for her back strain. dani, the chaotic team captain with no boundaries, who beams every time you compliment her after she makes it through her ice bath without flinching.

and lara raj. you especially won’t talk about your soft spot for lara, the confident, secure goalie who you’ve grown especially close with.

you know lara makes it a habit to be this nice to everybody. it comes with the territory. you know lara comes from money without flaunting it, always offering to cover meals for the girls with that insanely heavy black credit card with her dad’s name on it. she’s told you a little bit about how good she’s had it, the perfect parents, a super nice older sister, solid grades and of course, a talent for making sure a puck never flies past her.

it’s easy to love lara— perfect, confident, generous lara.

(so maybe you let yourself love her, just a little too much, but that’s for you to keep to yourself.)

lara’s compliments can sometimes come off as a bit much, but that’s the thing you’ve realized with her. while megan is usually too nervous to choke out anything, and dani says whatever is on her mind with no filter, lara finds the perfect balance. lara is observant and attentive, and she sees people for what they care about and finds a way to make them feel seen for it.

well, you don’t exactly prioritize being beautiful, but it’s a bonus that lara likes to call her loved ones pretty.

“can i talk to you about something?” she asks as you put stabilizing tape on her shoulder. your supervisor is in the office coming up with treatment plans for that week for the rest of the team.

despite daniela being the one that boasts the giant “c” on her jersey, lara is the de facto team mom. while dani is the one screaming in coach’s face about his unfair treatment of a player, lara the one constantly waving you down when someone tries to hide an injury or fake feeling better, making sure they get the attention they need instead of toughing it out. their dynamic is polar opposite, the defender and the caretaker but the two best friends complete each other.

“what’s up?” you hum, watching as the strips of KT tape start to make a mesmerizing pattern against lara’s soft skin.

“i’m worried about meg’s grade in our english class.” she whispers, ensuring the girl can’t hear you guys from outside the door. “dani chat gpt’s it all and gets away with it, i feel fine, but we’re struggling to help her keep up.”

“you told her not to take intro to british lit with you,” you remind her.

“i know, but i don’t think it’ll help to rub it in right now,” she sighs. “it’s so much reading."

you feel your brow furrow as you remember your assistant coach whispering something about academic probation to your head coach once last week, when they were doing their monthly grade assessment. the season is going so well, and megan’s been absolutely killing her position as center to the point that she’s the starter, so you can imagine how bad the team would suffer if she gets temporarily barred from playing.

you see the look in her eyes. lara’s worried about what it’ll do to megan if she gets dinged for her grades and has to stop playing, even for a short amount of time.

“when yunjin got diagnosed with adhd, she was able to talk to the university resource center to ask for more time during tests,” you remember, wracking your brain for a solution. the defenseman had told you about it at the very beginning of the semester, as if it was a hack.

“okay, period. we have a plan a,” lara beams. “you and that big brain, y/n.”

you feel your ears redden and shake your head. “what’s our plan b in case my big brain fails?”

“i will seduce her professor and change the grade myself,” she decides. you laugh but quickly feel yourself furrow as she winces at the you bend her shoulder. she tries to keep you away from changing the topic. “i’ll take one for the team. maybe that should be plan a, actually.”

“hey, no,” you press gently, concerned. she had told you the shoulder was pain free. “is your rotator cuff still bothering you?”

“it’s sore when i don’t stretch it, but that’s just me getting old,” lara waves you off.

“what do you think i’m going to say to you next?” you ask her.

“oh my god, y/n, always so non-confrontational. like my little conscience in my ear, asking me questions until the guilt eats me alive,” lara laughs, shoving you away from her. “it’s so annoying how good at that you are, you pacifist.”

you smile and put your supplies away, but lara’s words are nothing but the truth. you’re so painfully fearful of confrontation, it’s almost a joke that the career you’ve picked is with a full contact sport.

you open your mouth to say something, to ask further about the injury, when your phone ringing catches your attention. you feel yourself tense as you see the contact photo.

but lara, perfect, attentive lara, never misses anything with you.

“boyfriend again?”

she gives you a questioning look. she knows everything about you, including how rocky things have been with your less than attentive boyfriend lately.

“distance isn’t easy on anyone,” you say simply, but her look says enough. she gets up and offers you a reassuring hug.

“you’re not just anyone, so don’t let him treat you like you are.” how the hell does she always manage to sound straight out of a soap opera? you nod, blinking back the rising heat in your chest at the nerves

“it’s complicated,” you remind her, but she’s already giving you that look. you hate how you guys can communicate so much with so little.

you flag your supervisor to come check your work and step outside to take the call. you can feel lara’s eyes on you the whole time.

“hi felix…”

a week passes by, and so do two more phone calls that go the exact same way. all ending with a knot in your stomach at his words. you’re silently grateful that your roommate dropped out in the second week of school. a solo dorm all to yourself is a luxury you don’t take for granted when you’re so constantly fighting on the phone with someone into the late hours of the night.

“he’s mad about me not calling him when he got out of class again,” you sigh over facetime with daniela, as you flop onto your bed after a particularly boring history lecture. “i have explained so many times that i go straight from class to go work on you guys after practice.”

“go cheat on him or something,” daniela says simply. “he’s an annoying little bitch.”

“dani,” you sigh exasperatedly. you love her, but it’s easy to see why coach blames her for his going bald. she can be extremely difficult and give zero fucks about it.

you’ve always kept an extremely small circle. but lara’s in class, megan has never been in a relationship, yunjin is out with her girlfriend, and you’d rather die than talk to your sister about your boyfriend issues.

which leaves daniela, whose brash, calloused responses remind you just how perfect and emotionally in-tune with you lara is.

however, what daniela lacks in tact she makes up for in passion and pure heart, so you can always read between the lines and see her intentions are good.

“dude, come get fucked up with me and the kappa theta girls this weekend and you will literally never want to talk to that limp dick loser again.”

okay. mostly good intentions.

you remain silent as you assess the lack of food in your minifridge. usually, the silent treatment works wonders to get dani back on track, and this time is no exception.

“well, either way, you’ve always got lara who’d drop anything to marry you in a heartbeat.”

you laugh. that’d what you needed, the thing the three musketeers are so good at– saying the stupidest things.

“i’m ready when she is,” you tell her jokingly, tossing an old box of leftovers into the trash.

“been ready. break up with your soggy bitch and i’ll take y’all to the courthouse tomorrow.” you hear her laugh, but then you hear something like water bubbling, followed by a long exhale.

“don’t you have a press conference tomorrow?” you laugh, realizing exactly what the noise was.

“why do you think i’m getting baked out of my mind right now instead of in the morning? for a smart girl you’re kinda dumb sometimes, y/n,” she teases.

“don’t flirt with me too loud now, my dorm’s gonna end up burnt down by one of your crazy stalkers,” you deadpan dryly, realizing you need to go get something to eat.

“when you decide you’re done with that fucking joke of a man, i know a girl who’s lined up waiting for you,” she tells you between coughs, “and unfortunately for you, it isn’t me.”

“thanking god that i’m the one girl on earth who won’t take a ride on the avanzini train,” you laugh. daniela has always been respectfully inappropriate, and she’s one of the few people you feel comfortable enough to tease. “your ride’s probably messed up anyways.”

“100% satisfaction rate, lots of insistent repeat customers actually,” she defends herself passionately. “i wouldn’t be so bold, y/n, your shit is probably whack if it’s got your man tweaking so bad.”

“and the convo ends nee-ow,” you sigh, shaking your head, but your heart feels a little less heavy after dani’s nonsense. “thanks for cheering me up, captain.”

“thanks for patching us up all the time. we love you, y/n. keep your head up.”

the line dies out, and you go to lace up your sneakers. as much as dani loves to say shit to get a rise out of people, you think back over her words. lara.

perfect, confident lara has always been honest about how much she adores you. at first, you used to think it was just her way of making you feel comfortable around all of them. the hockey team is close, freakishly close, and she was always so warm and thoughtful enough to invite you to all their outings and make you feel included. she never had to– you’re only with them through next year, and then senior year you’ll be at the university medical center working in a real physical therapy clinic for your clinical rotation. your end goal is sports medicine, and you’d love to get hired by the hockey team once you graduate, but you need to keep your options open and be prepared for anything.

plus, you and felix are supposed to look for jobs in the same city once you graduate, move in together, build a life…

that beautiful, melodic voice enters your head as you hunt down your wallet. lara loved to bat her eyes at you whenever you mentioned not knowing what comes after graduation: “aw y/n, don’t you wanna take care of me forever?”

in the early days, you used to think she and dani were the same breed of college athlete. cocky, arrogant, flirtatious. the flirting rang true for the both of them, but you started to see where lara differed. she was tender, caring, and empathetic at times you had least expected.

the first time she ever told you she’d liked you, you thought it was another one of her mindless flirtations. you had learned to let them roll off your shoulder by that point. but even after you had laughed, she stood there, brows arched, and reiterated it. “y/n, i’m serious. i really am into you.”

you feel your spine tingle at the memory. what are you supposed to do with that? you and felix had just hit a year. a rocky, bumpy year, but you had met just after high school and you figured you owed it your best shot. lara was quickly one of your closest friends, and you had confided everything in her.

she never defined it as a crush, nor did she ever make you feel guilty for it. her transparency was equal parts confusing and refreshing. it made your friendship stronger, if anything. never crossing the line of touching too close or flirting too passionately. you two existed in a weird limbo– lara raj was somehow in love with you, openly so, and yet was so damn perfect she never made it big enough to affect your friendship.

(this is the part where you try to stop thinking about it before your head has a hard time making sense of it all… but… don’t you love her too?)

you step out of your dorm and spot an unfamiliar girl letting herself into your neighbor’s dorm. your neighbor, baby megan skiendiel’s dorm. you feel a rise of suspicion. chronically bitchless megan, as the trio calls her? maybe you’ll give her roomie danielle a heads up?

meg’s got someone over. she’s reaaaallly pretty

i appreciate you! ;-; best neighbour ever!

ofc <333

i think she mentioned something about a study partner?

you smile and step out of the building into the chilly night air. lara made it happen. you know megan would have been too nervous to ask for the support on her own, so it must have been with the guidance of the older girls that–

your phone buzzes. felix, again.

“i just barely got home and headed to dinner, like the second you called me,” you tell him quickly as you pick up, wanting to avoid another fight. you can feel yourself already breathless and anxious.

“why do you always talk to me like that? like i’m an idiot. i’m not an idiot, y/n. did it ever occur to you that your standards are just too unrealistic?” his voice is so cold, making your stomach turn as you keep walking towards the dining hall, trying to avoid letting your eyes water before you see someone you may know.

“i don’t think it’s that ridiculous. we’re long distance. we don’t have the easy things to fall back on,” you furrow your eyebrows, nearly disgusted.

but then he pauses, and you can hear him suck in a breath. your stomach drops at the way his tone changes.

“maybe we should think about that. if the distance is too hard.”

“what the fuck, felix?” you try not to make it a habit to swear, but the tears are already pricking at the corners of your eyes. you want to scream but everything stays trapped in your chest.

“you gave up forever ago,” he accuses you.

“you think so?” is all you can manage to ask. it’s moments like this where you admire someone as unhinged as daniela, who you’re sure could easily give him a piece of her mind, or yunjin, who won’t stand for even a whiff of disrespect.

or lara, you think, who’d know her worth enough to just hang up and move right on along.

you lose yourself in silence as felix unleashes a rant that feels much too pre-prepared to be brought on by simply missing his call. you feel your chest ache at the thought of everything changing for you. you don’t know how much time has passed before he realizes you haven’t said anything. you’ve always hated that about him. you’re naturally reserved, and it’s almost like he just assumes you have nothing to say.

he ends the call when he’s ready, with a “sorry it had to be like this, y/n,” and you’re too drained to fight him on it. you stop and sit on a nearby bench to wipe your face clean and send a quick rescue text to the only person you really want to talk to in that moment.

lara’s calling you less than 30 seconds after you hit send.

“lar, you’re in class, you didn’t have to call me,” you chastise her gently, but you know there’s no point.

“i know you said call you after class, but that’s such an sos, you never need anything so i know this has got to be the real deal,” she tells you.

“i just needed to get out of my head.”

“everything okay?” she asks tenderly.

“um, no. not really.” you take a deep breath and look up, trying to avoid the well of tears coming back up. “i think felix and i just broke up.”

“oh, fuck that guy. never liked him. i’m coming to get you in 5.”

perfect, always-knows-what-to-say lara raj does exactly that, tracking you by your location just a few minutes later, and insists you two go out to eat and tell her everything. it stings, but lara’s presence makes everything more bearable. maybe this isn’t the worst thing that could have come out of today.

you wake up in your dorm and feel the dull, anxious buzz in your stomach as you remember yesterday’s call. but spending the rest of the night with one of your favorite people had made it practically melt away, and by the time she had dropped you off, felix was far out of your mind.

you’re taking the breakup better than most would expect, but then again, you’ve also been called “the statue” by coach by how non-reactive you are.

what’s the point in losing your cool and letting others get the best of you? sure, your sister grew up walking all over you, but most of the time, it wasn’t worth it to get into it with her. you’ve been like this since you were little– you hoard your emotions, stoic through all hardships, too afraid to let people see you struggle and think any less of you. your dad’s always been such a worry wart, your step-mom is insanely judgemental, and your sister jordan gets everything she wants, never once having understood what it’s like to feel like a burden.

your sister, who you haven’t thought of all night. why would you? this breakup is about–

oh god. your very demanding, very aggressive, very engaged-to-be-married-in-two-weeks, sister.

your jaw nearly drops as you realize the extra layer of what your breakup means for you. your hands shake in panic.

breakfast with lara. you feel it anchor you, ever so slightly. there’s an idea that pops into your head that you barely let yourself contemplate before realizing if there’s anyone who could come to your rescue, it might be perfect, angel lara.

“you know i’d never ask anything of you, ever, right?” you start as the two of you sit down, setting your trays onto the table.

“yes, you’re too proud and too hardworking,” lara nods, grinning as you smack her shoulder.

“okay,” you breathe nervously, “well i am extremely embarrassed to ask you this, but my psychopath of a sister is getting married in two weeks and i already told her i was in a relationship, so if i show up alone, she’s never going to let me hear the end of it, ‘cause she planned for a specific seating arrangement and—”

oh my god, you realize you’re rambling. you try to pivot to what the bigger issue is.

“damn, okay, well let me just say that my my stepmom will be weird, my dad is gonna overreact and make me come back home, i won’t get to finish my program–”

oh my god, again you gasp at yourself. this is why the hell you don’t let yourself panic. you crack.

there’s a pause as you see lara digest all of it.

“parents love me,” lara finally grins. you let out the breath that had been stuck in your throat. you feel an immense gratitude that she isn’t pushing you to say it.

how could you possibly mutter the words out loud? will you be my fake date to this real wedding?

“i’m so sure yours did,” you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but laugh. she’s got the confidence of a child who was never told no.

“all parents,” she pushes back, poking you in the ribs.

“don’t get too cocky. it was between you, daniela, and meg, but meg gets nervous when someone even breathes next to her and dani is-”

“oh my god,” lara covers her mouth with her hand at the image in her head. “she’d be forcing your family members to drink shots out of her mouth and harassing the dj.”

you hold three fingers up, and fold them down as you go through the lineup of your options. “our infant daughter who can barely remember her own name, hot-headed attention whore with no boundaries, or charming and slightly overconfident sweetheart.”

“i’m going to pretend my competition wasn’t those two idiots and just tell myself i was the clear winner from the start.”

“i’ll owe you everything,” you tell her gently.

“i’m happy to do it.” she shakes her head, before a beaming grin. “you know it’s inevitable that we fall in love though, right?”

you laugh, but she reaches out to you, and your hands meet over the table. what a massive reassurance.

“lara i can’t stress enough how thankful i am, and how anxious over all of it i am.”

“i got this,” she reassures you, confident nod. “i’ve got you.”

“thank you,” you breathe quietly once more, and you feel your heart stir. you do trust her, with your whole heart actually, to make this work.

you’re supposed to be sleeping in when the blare of your phone ringing shocks you awake. again, grateful to live alone.

“ugh, jordy, it’s 6 in the damn morning,” you groan as you bring the phone to your ear. your sister has her own special ringtone, love by keyshia cole, her stupid go to karaoke song.

“y/n,” jordan drawls, and you roll your eyes as you remember she simply does not care about inconveniencing you. “my friend wants to know if you’ll let her third wheel you at the table. i’ve never met your boyfriend so i want to know he won’t be weird with her.”

you almost don’t remember what she’s talking about, until you feel your body tense. the damn wedding looming over your head.

the good thing about being notoriously private, you realize, is that you had kept your relationship entirely between the two of you. felix had hated how you never posted him, never let him tag you in anything, never let him meet your family or friends, simply told them “i’m seeing someone” once you had hit six months. you bite your tongue. maybe you could see why he’d be so frustrated… but you’ve always wanted to keep your business to yourself, and having someone associated to you for people to judge you off of would be entirely unfair to you.

“girlfriend,” you correct her quietly. as soon as the word comes out, you can’t hide from it any more. you and lara are committing to the charade.

“girlfriend?” she sounds surprised, but not annoyed. “okay, but she needs to wear my colors or i’ll kill her.”

you breathe a quiet laugh. at least jordan can always make things about herself. “i’ll make sure she knows.”

“anyways, my friend, she’s so cute, says she’s in your research methods class,” she pivots back to her initial ask. “i’ll tell her she can link up with you whenever. i’ll give her your instagram.”

before you can say anything, jordan hangs up unceremoniously. you furiously get dressed and brush your teeth, trying to rush to lara as soon as physically possible. this adds a kink to your plan.

you make it to her dorm in a few and punch in her keycode, letting yourself into her room quietly. you poke around to see if her roommates are home and if you’ll wake her, but luckily, the only person you see in the bed is her.

your heart thuds. perfect, sweet lara raj, slumbering like an angel, her lips parted slightly and her brows furrowed in her sleep.

“lar,” you gently hum, approaching with caution. “lar, it’s y/n.”

you had let yourself into her dorm after her insistence before, and as she stirs awake, a smile takes to her lips. “i was hoping it’d be you when i heard the door.”

“um, so, issue.” you whisper, kneeling by her bed as you play with her hair to help her wake up. “my sister basically wants a friend of her’s to hang out with us so she’s not uncomfortable at the wedding, but i have no clue who the friend is.”

lara rubs at her eyes sleepily, reaching for her phone as she looks up at you. “which means…”

“i’m really sorry.” the weight of this isn’t lost upon you. “is there any way we can be like, pretend exclusive for the next week and a half? if this girl sees you out with someone and texts my sister then it’s all pointless.”

“oh, so like, fully off the market?” lara arches an eyebrow.

“i know it’s a huge ask.”

there’s a heavy pause, and you wish the earth would open up and swallow you alive. what an embarrassing situation to force lara into. you’d fully understand if she’d push back.

but perfect, helpful lara raj simply grins up at you and shows you her phone, finger hovering over her dating apps folder as she deletes them one by one in front of you.

“i’ll delete my tinder right now.” she says easily. “not about to blow your cover.”

you let out a deep breath and swarm her in a hug. “lara, you’re a godsend.”

“not my first time hearing that,” she beams back at you.

you get a dm in that moment from a random photography instagram that had followed you later that morning. the profile picture is of a tree, giving you no hints about this girl’s identity.

peanutbutterlover02: hey <3 jordan said i could come crash you guys! are you busy today? maybe we can do dinner together?

you breathe shakily. your first test as a fake couple.

“let’s do it,” lara says confidently, and you realize she’s reading over your shoulder.

“if my asks ever get too weird, please, please say something.” you tell her firmly. “i don’t ever want you uncomfortable just to help me out. we can scale it back any time if the lines get blurry.”

“y/n, this is like a dream come true for me,” lara teases. “i’ll speak up if i need to, but don’t worry too much about me, okay?”

“thank you,” you breathe shakily, and send a reply to this girl with a time and place.

you’re getting ready for the hang out after practice when lara texts you.

meg and dani found out we’re going to the makers market and want to come... maybe a small group will make her more comfortable?

our first exposure is a group thing?

if that’s okay?

won’t they be weird about us acting like that?

do you trust them to keep a secret?

you’re heading out the dorm but pause in your tracks. one massive factor you didn’t consider— the girl with no filter.

oh my god daniela

and that big mouth

i will beg her

no don’t do that, pretty girl. i’ll talk to her. she’ll always do it for the team.

lara always manages to find a way. you feel your chest loosen and keep walking, shooting a message to jordan’s friend before jumping back to lara.

my hero

;) we’ll be there in like 5

you spot the girl on the bench in front of the library, exactly where you agreed to meet up.

“hi!” she greets, pulling you in for a hug. “you’re jordy’s sister. i’m manon.”

“how do you know each other?” you ask curiously. jordan is a bitch, in every sense, and manon seems so… normal?

“jordy is my hair girl.” she smiles and taps at the intricate patterns along her scalp. “cleanest parts i have ever seen.”

“i’m y/n,” you smile, and let out a small breath before you commit fully to the act. no turning back now. “my girlfriend and her friends will be here super soon.”

as if on cue, you hear old justin bieber rnb blaring from an approaching vehicle, and recognize lara’s car right away.

“hi ladies,” lara beams from the window as she pulls up to the curb. you see the ginger hair and blonde curls in the back. “your uber is here.”

manon squeezes into the back, and you take the passengers seat. you suck in a breath. maybe you and lara should have practiced how to be, what to do, how to navigate this, especially in front of two of your closest friends. lara makes easy work of chatting up manon and keeping the conversation flowing until you guys get to the makers market, a bustling farmers market for art where they block off a whole street for vendors.

you’re too busy overthinking to notice megan and daniela’s widened eyes as lara snakes an arm around your waist as you all start walking. your skin tenses at the contact.

lara, confident, unshakable lara, does it as if you’ve been hers for years. this might not be a mission destined for failure after all.

manon is extremely sweet and undeniably hilarious. the evening goes on without a hitch (maybe besides dani trying to race megan to see who can eat their korean corn dog faster causing both of them to choke) but even the small hiccups are nothing compared to how natural lara is at making this so convincing. she’s touching you at every opportunity, taking pictures of you each time you turn back to look at her, buying every thing you even look at. you know it’s all for show, but you can’t help but think of how easy she makes it seem. if felix was this competent, he’d be the one you’d want here right now, but lara does all the things you begged him to do, without having to be asked.

you guys are back on campus before 9pm, but you’re having too much fun. you spend a lot of time buried in anatomy textbooks or watching orthopedic surgeries, and tonight, you just want to enjoy it with your friends.

“we can go back to my room,” you offer to the group as you guys wander out of the parking garage. “i have a single.”

the group agrees, and the five of you make it to your dorm in just a few minutes walking. lara’s hand snakes into yours, and you feel your spine tingle.

“do you guys smoke?” manon raises her brows hopefully, holding up her bag. you guide them all up the stairs of the building and into your room, plugging in your twinkle lights.

“fuck yeah,” dani beams.

“aren’t we getting drug tested this week?” megan asks worriedly.

“next week, kiddo,” lara rubs the top of her head playfully. “and we’ll just skip you. no pressure.”

manon takes a pre-roll out of the hand-painted altoid tin in her purse and you head over to crack the window. in just a few minutes, you’re all laughing on the floor of your room, nodding along to music playing from your speaker, passing the joint around amongst the group.

“why didn’t they give you captain?” you ask lara. “you’re such a good role model. minus the recreational drug use and flirting with everyone you know.”

“they wanted to, actually. did you know that?” megan says, a bright grin on her lips.

“you said no?” you ask in surprise. lara is staring at the ground, thumb rubbing along the bottom of your braids.

“i didn’t want it.” she shrugs calmly, taking another inhale. “i like hockey, i just like other things too. can’t make it my whole life, duh.”

“plus, she doesn’t have the same face i do for interviews,” dani butts in, flexing dramatically. “cameras love the curls + dimple combo.”

manon snorts, and you and lara exchange smiles. you won’t talk about how comfortable it feels to have lara leaning against your shoulder, playing with your hair, the proximity of her washing a wave of comfort over you.

“hey do you guys think i have negative aura just ‘cause i didn’t smoke?” megan asks, nose wrinkling as she watches you guys hand the joint amongst yourselves.

“no. you’re bitchless because you’re scared of your own shadow,” daniela quickly answers, and megan’s face drops.

“bro, i can totally pull.”

“i see no bitches,” dani claps back. “all you do is text that tutor of yours. get her to at least show you a titty or something, come on.”

the four of you laugh in tandem as megan glares at the blonde.

“don’t talk about my tutor like that.”

“a boundary, from the baby?” lara all but cries, beaming so brightly you feel like she might fall over. “baby’s first boundary! get the camera!”

megan rolls her eyes and waves her off. you guys talk and talk into a random hour of the night, enjoying the calm of getting to know someone new and change up the routine just a bit. this yap session is a welcome change of pace, and you’ve never enjoyed yourself more than listening to dani debate with anyone who disagrees with her, watching megan push back weakly, manon simply laugh at everything, and lara reel it in when it gets too crazy while still adding fuel to the fire. you could stay like this forever, you think to yourself.

“it’s so late,” you realize as you finally look at your phone for the first time all night. “you guys can stay so you don’t have to walk back when it’s so dark.”

“i live next door,” megan tells manon, excusing herself. “this was fun.”

“we should totally do it again, thank you guys for being so fun,” manon smiles, before assessing your room. you have your bed, the extra bed, and a wide space between the two beds in the middle of the dorm. “if it’s okay to stay, i can totally sleep on the floor with no issue.”

“no way, you’re the guest,” you insist, reaching under your bed to locate your extra blankets. manon and dani start cleaning up the ash tray and trying to air out your room.

your brain runs through the possible combinations. manon on the floor, jordan finds out and kills you. dani on the floor, she’ll complain all night. you guys could figure out sharing beds, manon and dani could—

your eyes widen, and as if she’s thinking about the exact same combination, lara’s panicked gaze meets you at the exact same time.

“no fucking chance,” lara whispers. “the animal needs her own bed."

the only viable solution makes itself painfully clear as you shrug and whisper back to lara. “we could sleep on the floor.”

“perfect. always with the plans,” she beams back happily. lara directs the two, gesturing to the separate beds. “you’ll be here, and you’ll be here.”

“i can’t do that to you,” manon frowns, seeing you set up the pillow and blanket on the carpeted floor.

“it’s too small for us to both fit. we’re happier like this anyways,” lara insists, and it’s enough for manon to offer a smile of gratitude. everyone gets into their assigned spots, the smell of incense and the buzz of your fan lulling you into drowsiness after lara turns off your lights.

“good night manon, thanks for hanging out with us,” you tell her, happy to have made a new friend.

“say good night to me,” daniela pouts.

“you’re the reason we can’t make normal friends,” lara snips back.

manon laughs. “i love you guys already.”

“good night,” lara whispers in your ear as she arranges herself besides you, pressing a kiss into your hair. the feeling is so foreign coming from her, and yet you feel your body seek her out as you press back into her hug.

you close your eyes and let her pull you close. you know there’s an end in sight, but maybe you’ll let yourself pretend it could be longer.

the next morning, everyone disperses to their own dorms before the day starts. you make it through your classes though it’s a struggle with the lack of sleep. by the time you come out of your final class of the day, ready to head towards the ice rink to prepare for the girls’ practice, a familiar figure is standing outside your classroom, leaning against the wall. her eyes light up as she spots you.

“what are you doing?” you ask, seeing her practice bag slung over her shoulder.

“we date, so i walk you to practice,” she says simply, reaching out for you. “duh.”

you remember that her last class of the day ended over an hour ago, meaning she must have waited for you. you shake your head in surprise. “your class is closer to the stadium.”

“i’d rather walk with you,” she says back easily. perfect, charming lara raj, always ready to push back against your excuses.

“there’s no need to be that public,” you respond. ugh, why can’t you just accept the gesture. she wants to make your life so easy and yet something in you can’t accept the generosity.

“what if manon sees us and is wondering why we don’t seem loved up?” lara challenges you. “i’d hate to have her tell your sister we’re fighting.”

“more people might ask questions,” you whisper nervously.

“let them.” she smiles, forever a beacon of confidence. “not their business.”

you’re running out of reasons to push her away. “coach?”

“we can tell him it’s new. who’s he gonna tell?”

she takes your hand in hers, and you let her, wishing you had let her a long, long time ago.

it becomes way too easy to go through these motions with lara. when you’re alone, she’s respectful, never needing to make any advances that don’t suit the moment, allowing your friendship to still be anchored in some normalcy. the touches are intimate but never suggestive, the compliments are tender but never too intense, and she’s only ever kissed you on the head or on the hand.

but you start to struggle when you’re alone, craving her closeness but confused as to why you’d want that if it’s just the two of you. you think about the timeline of this insanely busy week. tomorrow, the pre-game party. day after, the championship game, and the day after that, you fly in the morning to make it to the wedding by the evening. your facade is coming to an end, and you know you guys should figure out what the story will be as to why you’ll inevitably “break up,” but each time you guys hang out late at night with manon, all you can focus on is immersing yourself in the experience.

you’re all laying on the floor of your dorm, smoking dani’s weed this time (megan as the exception, too nervous to risk it the week of such an important game) and chatting mindlessly. manon won’t be able to make it to tomorrow’s party, so you guys all make it a point to have another of your yap sessions in your room.

“with the exception of the obvious happy couple,” manon starts her question, staring up at the ceiling. “have you guys ever been in love before?”

“no.” megan’s nose wrinkles. “i just barely started kissing people.”

“a few times,” lara confesses, calmly. she had mentioned a few of her relationships back when you guys were just friends, a few flings you noticed her get caught up in. you never minded, lara was never ever supposed to hold back just because she had admitted to liking you, but you couldn’t help but wonder about these girls every time you noticed her get into something new. “maybe three. i’m not in the business of denying my feelings.”

“which one was the deepest?” manon asks curiously.

lara pauses, contemplating. you don’t expect anything from her. in 48 hours, she won’t owe you anything. but yet, perfect, angelic lara, always manages to catch you off guard.

“this one,” she says, and you can’t tear your eyes away from her. her confession rattles through your chest. “it’s like a dream, but i know it’s a dream, and i’m trying to enjoy it as much as i could before i have to wake up.”

you feel your pulse in your neck. manon and megan both turn to look at you. any other time, you’d avoid the question and leave it there– sure, you had liked felix, enough to stay with him all that time, but there was never anything about him that rattled you, that unnerved you and comforted you all at once. had you ever even really liked him in the first place? had you admired, respected, felt seen by him?

(had you ever once loved him, even half as much as you love lara raj?)

you let out a shaky breath. maybe you can be brave enough to say it out loud, just this time, let yourself pretend before it’s all over.

“once,” you finally admit. lara’s eyes come to meet yours.

“yeah?”

“perfect girl is easy to love,” you tell her simply. your chest warms and she brings her nose to rest against the tip of yours.

“once, for me too,” dani says, staring blankly at the ceiling. the admission surprises you, and you can tell lara and megan seem just as caught off guard. daniela lets out a quiet breath. “just once.”

“what happened?” you pry gently.

daniela laughs, and it’s the first time in the two years you’ve known her that you’ve ever heard her with a hint of something more in her voice. “it fucking hurt. i didn’t ever want to go through that again.”

“should i be scared?” megan asks, brows furrowing in concern.

“no,” daniela says quickly, waving her off. “i’m a lightning strike. being in love is so, so beautiful.”

“how do you know when it happens?” the ginger asks, voice gentle.

“you just know,” manon says simply.

megan pauses for a beat, before letting out a quiet breath. “i want to change my answer.”

“oh?” you ask.

“tutor girl?” lara arches a brow, turning away from you to peer over at the youngest girl.

“she’s so easy to like. she’s so, so smart, and so nice to me, even when she’s being playful, she’s doing it to make me laugh. she believes in me, through everything. every time i’m around her i just feel like i don’t have to be anyone but myself, whoever i am that day. i’ll call her when i’m on the road, and it makes me feel better.” megan doesn’t usually have this much to say about anything, and it warms you to hear her go on and on like this. she looks down at her hands, playing with her fingernails. “i invited her to the party tomorrow, and it sucks ‘cause i know i’ve got no fucking chance.”

“i think you’re really brave for letting yourself dive in. sometimes it just feels to say it out loud, even if nothing comes from it,” manon tells her, smiling in encouragement.

“i think i’m in love,” megan whispers quietly.

gentle snores are heard from the corner. you all peek over to see dani peacefully slumbering from her spot on the floor.

“leave her there,” lara laughs. “we’ll deal with her complaints in the morning.”

“can i stay here tonight?” megan asks, grimacing. “i can’t tell if my stomach hurts because of the party, the game, or the fact that i’m super down bad.”

“always,” you offer a nod of reassurance.

manon and megan shuffle in to fit into the other bed, and lara joins you in yours. dani’s quiet snores are somehow extremely comforting.

“thanks for letting me talk about it, guys,” megan thanks you quietly. manon smiles and the two turn back-to-back in the bed.

lara’s eyes are warm, still fixed on yours as you face each other in the tight squeeze into your twin bed. you close your eyes and curl up, lara resting her chin on the top of your head as she hugs you from the front. you feel your entire body melt into her.

her voice is gentle, and infinitely tender as she murmurs into your hair.

“y/n y/ln, i’m in love with you.”

“ugh. i want that,” manon groans from the bed.

you don’t open your eyes. lara’s voice lingers in your ears. what a beautiful song to fall asleep to.

the party the next day is 10x as insane as the girls initially told you it would be. bodies everywhere, volume threatening to split your eardrums. jordan has tried to call you at least twice to make final arrangements before her wedding in two days, but each time you try to find an empty room, you’ve found either yunjin and her girlfriend making out, a random group snorting something off a table, or a screaming couple in the middle of a fight. you make your way back downstairs and decide your sister can wait.

besides, it’s one of your last times getting to play house with lara. perfect and confident lara, who lights up as soon as she spots you coming back downstairs, handing you back the drink she had so dutifully been watching over.

“watch watch watch,” lara pulls you in, motioning over to the corner. “i think the baby is trying to make a move.”

you see your favorite awkward ginger and a cute little sorority girl in the corner of the room, trying to speak over the pounding loud music. you instantly recognize the body language between the two of them.

“uh, wrong. that girl is trying to make a move, and megan is in fight or flight.” you laugh, taking a sip from your drink. “except she’s doing neither, and instead she’s freezing.”

“okay, whatever, no more national geographic. let’s go get drunk,” lara grins devilishly, snaking an arm around your waist before she pulls you over towards a circle where daniela is holding some frat boy friend of hers hostage and getting him to drive the boat as she screams in laughter.

you’re still worried about baby megan though, until you see the familiar figure of her tutor slipping out the door, the ginger following soon after. you give them a few moments but they don’t come back in together. either megan will have a lot to share tomorrow morning, or you’ll have a lot for lara to ask about.

daniela comes around to everyone in the circle, pouring shots out into each of their mouths from the bottle of hennessy she’s got gripped. you laugh at the antics of the team captain. lara pulls you closer and you’re transfixed by the smell of her perfume, the softness of her hair on your bare shoulders as she anchors you close to her to dance.

you don’t mind getting lost in her, maybe this once.

you’re not sure how much time has passed of you two dancing, locked in your own little world, before dani is pouring shots out again, clearly trying to get rid of whatever of the bottle is left.

“where’s the baby?” dani asks as she gets to lara, pouring the shot and assessing the room around her.

“i saw her going outside like a half hour ago. hasn’t come back,” you inform her.

lara swallows down the shot and makes quick work of pulling out her phone, never once letting go of your waist. “it looks like she’s walking back from campus.”

you do the math. 20 minute walk to campus, she left 30 mins ago and is already heading back to you guys. 10 minutes with tutor girl? maybe you won’t ask her about what she got up to tonight or why she was gone. you guys chat a little longer before the ginger in question pops back in through the door, making her way to you guys with a frazzled expression.

“hi puppy dog,” lara welcomes her back, teasing grin on her face. “how was it?”

megan shakes her head, clearly disoriented. “i don’t even know any more.”

“i know how to fix it,” daniela reassures her, before dragging out a table in the middle of the circle you guys are in and dragging a few randoms to surround it. she lifts up the empty hennessy bottle before placing it on its side flat on the table. she cheers, stealing a cup from the girl next to her and downing its contents in one easy go. “spin that fuckin’ bottle, baby!”

lara laughs and holds her cup up to yours. your buzz has already set in, and you want to be coherent to get you all home that night, but one quick knock back won’t kill you. you grimace as you tap cups with her but swallow it down. daniela grins and cheers' her own cup against megan’s forehead (much to the younger girl’s displeasure) before screaming loudly about how the game is about to start.

lara is laughing along with you at dani’s antics. “she gives the hockey players such a bad fucking rep.”

for a split second, you second guess not inviting daniela to the wedding– if all went south, dani would know exactly how to create an incredible distraction as you ran away.

but instead, you have to be brave and face it head on.

with lara, you remember, and your chest loosens at the thought. you’re grateful it gets to be with her at your side.

“hanni pham, meet baby megs,” daniela beams, and you realize the bottle is pointing directly at your adopted ginger daughter. lara can’t stop laughing, and you get it– megan looks like she’s about to shit herself.

hanni, a cheerleader who you met in your communications class, seems to love the hollering of the circle as she struts over and plants a quick peck on the corner of megan’s mouth. dani is screaming at the top of her lungs for her to do more, but megan’s strong hands keep a polite placement on her shoulders to distance the two of them.

“thank you, um for that, but i’m good for the night,” the ginger wrinkles her nose sheepishly. “gonna go wait in the car.”

“another boundary,” lara emphasizes, turning to you, and the both of you laugh.

“our baby girl is so, so grown up,” you fake-cry, slipping a hand into the furthest pocket of her jacket. she pulls you in closer and the two of you realize each time you say something to each other, you miss what happens in the outside world. how beautiful to get to disappear away from it all with just a look.

the group is staring expectantly at you as you realize daniela’s on the couch, the swedish exchange student from your calculus class perched comfortably on her lap, the two of them oblivious to the world through their frenzied make out. you were next in line, thus it now being your turn.

you comply nervously, terrified to get paired with some gross stranger, but lara, perfect, confident lara, off one too many shots, reaches down to stop it with her thumb, causing it to land on her. you hear some groans, but a majority of the people in the group cheer you on, chanting your name as lara turns to face you, not once letting go of her grip on you.

your throat goes dry at the look she gives you. her dark eyes twinkling, her beautiful rich skin, shining from the heat of the party and the alcohol running through both of your veins.

“come here baby,” she beckons, smiling widely at you, bringing the hand not on your waist up to your neck. your skin tingles at the contact. “been wanting to kiss you all night, you’re so pretty.”

you have two choices: push back and make an excuse, or commit. and with all the bravery in the world, the bravery that perfect lara raj gives you, you’re able to push past the what-if’s and let yourself crash into her.

the kiss, tasting softly of lara’s gum and the drinks you’ve shared, is electrifying. you’ve never once allowed yourself to wander that far into imagining what kissing lara would be like, and you’re almost grateful. nothing could compare to how perfect kissing perfect, incredible lara raj would be. she’s confident and assertive, letting her tongue brush against your lower lip, your mind going absolutely blank as she tightens her grip on your waist.

“how was that?” she asks with a grin, and the rest of the world is lost to you guys once more.

“how do you think it was?” you ask back breathlessly, unable to form words beyond that.

“perfect,” she whispers, the smile she has threatening to split her mouth.

“okay,” you breathe. you can still feel the tingle of her lips on yours.

you don’t mention it once the hour is late and megan is dragging a half-slumped daniela into the car with you guys while lara offers a ride to meg’s crush’s little roommates. you don’t say a word about it as lara drops belle and minji off, then presses a kiss to your temple when she drops you and megan off at your building, insisting she can keep daniela in her room to keep an eye on her. you fall back into your bed after a quick shower, the feeling still lingering.

the end is near, and you know it. you decide you won’t think about it, and fall asleep.

you wake up to a knock on the door. you rise with a slight headache, letting out a quiet groan, before you peek out the peephole and recognize a flash of bright orange hair.

“can you help me?” megan asks fervently as you let her in. she holds up various materials: paper, pens, an envelope, and a bright red ticket. “i want to make something for someone, but i feel so fucking lost as to where to start.”

“you want to invite her to the game tonight?” you ask, connecting the dots.

“yes,” her eyes light up. “i’m giving her my spare ticket. front row, so she can see us.”

“the one you think you’re in love with?” you smile, loving the enthusiasm.

“i think i want to say something, or at least try.” megan nods, confidently for the first time since you’ve known her, and drops her voice into a sigh. “you don’t know how special it is to feel seen for yourself.”

“oh, i do,” you breathe, memories of the past two weeks taking over your head. you rub a reassuring circle into her back as she parks herself at your desk. you head over to the bathroom to take down your hair and start your morning routine. “say what you feel. i’ll stay with you if you’re nervous.”

“your sister’s wedding is tomorrow, right?” megan clarifies, looking up from the desk. “what happens after that? between you and lar.”

you feel a pang in your stomach. 24 hours left in your little charade, and now, you don’t know how to untangle everything you’ve intertwined with her. you feel your smile threaten to fall, but you try to put on a brave front for the concerned younger girl. “don’t worry about that. focus on you.”

“i don’t think you should end it so fast,” she responds, her eyes softening. you hate the way her puppy dog eyes pierce straight into your heart. “you guys have something really amazing there.”

“it’s not real,” you remind her.

“looks pretty real to me,” she tells you back simply, and it lingers with you. you shake it off and approach her to start braiding her hair for the game.

lara has to do follow-up interviews with dani and the team following their championship win, and she promises to make it on the first flight out to your hometown. you’re kind of grateful she misses the rehearsal dinner, since manon does nothing but gush about how beautifully in love you and lara is and how she’s certain you guys will be doing this in no time. jordan, suspicious of you until manon opens her mouth, simply presses a kiss into your temple.

“happy you’re happy, sis. maybe the quiet ones do win every once in a while.”

lara stays at a hotel instead of with you and your parents in order to give you guys somewhere to drop the act. you find it increasingly difficult to remember what it used to be like before the touches, before the embraces, before falling asleep together every night.

she looks so beautiful in her incredible dress and your dad can’t stop gushing over what a peach she is. your step-mom, who never approves of anything you do, doesn’t look completely unimpressed by the gorgeous date you’re seated with. you’ll take it as a win.

the ceremony goes off without a hitch, and you make it to the reception dinner in one piece. halfway through the night without incident is a huge win. and lara, perfect, charming lara, is making friends with every person she introduces herself to, a cheeky compliment for every aunt of yours in their sunday best or every cousin asking suspiciously if you’re actually together. she finds the perfect balance of affection, not too much to be overdoing it, but just enough to keep you feeling calmed throughout the night.

“you play hockey with y/n?” your stepmom asks as she and your dad join you at the table with lara and manon as you all eat. you bite back a groan, considering you’ve explained a million times that you don’t play, just help treat the players.

“i play goalie, yes,” lara smiles good-naturedly. “y/n basically is there to patch us up after every game. contact sports can take quite the toll on the body.”

“what do you want to do with hockey?” your dad asks curiously. you can see your sister and your new brother-in-law dancing like idiots behind him on the dancefloor and let out a content sigh. somehow, lara is carrying herself without a single bit of help needed, and it soothes your anxious nerves.

“reminisce about it fondly when i’m old and grey,” lara laughs. “i just finished this sophomore season, so i’ve got two more seasons playing collegiate, and that’s it for me and hockey. after i graduate, i’m going to do a fellowship with a clinic.”

“physical therapy, like y/n?” manon asks curiously.

“marriage and family therapy. i want to be a therapist. i would love to work with student athletes.”

“no way,” you breathe quietly. how has lara never mentioned this? she had started school as a business major.

“my friends have a hard time balancing school and sports and some of them are really hurting over it. i’ve always been lucky enough to have good grades.”

“nobody should ever have to pick something they love over their wellbeing,” your step-mom says to no-one in particular, and you swear there’s something like approval in her eyes.

“lara is an extremely nurturing person,” you tell your dad in particular. “i think she’ll make a huge impact in whatever she does.”

“well, miss raj, i hope y/n doesn’t hide you away from us any more. i’d love to see you around more often,” he smiles, and you two exchange a glance.

“that’s up to y/n, isn’t it?” she asks, something twinkling in her eyes.

“i’m certainly thinking about it,” you smile back. the night is won.

you come back with her to her hotel room so you can celebrate the victory in peace, without worrying about your family overhearing.

“did i kill it, or did i destroy it?” she beams excitedly, kicking her heels off as she swipes one of the shots from the minibar in the fridge. “that went so fucking smooth.”

“you were perfect.” you could cry. perfect, angelic lara raj, making the impossible happen. a weight is lifted off your shoulders.

“i told you parents really like me,” she beams brightly, swooping you up in both arms to snake her arms around your waist and pull you in to a hug.

“everyone really likes you,” you laugh, pushing her back, but her arms stay locked around you. you could push again, but you don’t want to.

she’s never held you like this, behind closed doors. you don’t know what possesses you to let her. memories of your kiss from spin the bottle race through your mind. you feel your mouth go dry as you realize what your body is seeking– it wants to kiss her again.

“all that matters is what you think about me,” she tells you.

you simply hum in response, feeling her hands trace lower on your hips.

“hey, y/n,” she whispers into your ear, the warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “remember how when this all started, you wanted me to tell you if things ever got too blurry?”

you nod, your words caught in your throat. you barely manage to get anything out. “it’s over now, don’t worry.”

“that’s the issue. it’s supposed to be over, but…” she trails off, her fingers tracing circles into your back. she looks away, but you feel a sudden wave of bravery take over you, and you reach around her neck to trace gentle lines into her nape. her eyes come back to you, dark and hooded.

“tell me,” you press gently, and the room feels like it might collapse in on you both.

“lines are a little blurry,” lara breathes.

“i think i’m okay with that, if you are,” you whisper back.

“you already know what i think,” lara says, almost as an accusation. but then she’s reaching for the zipper on the back of your dress, eyes flickering to you as if to ask for permission.

you push past your own thoughts and let yourself capture her lips with your own, an answer to her question. you won’t overthink it, not this time.

you wake to an empty bed, the smell of lara’s skin still lingering on the sheets. you inhale deeply as you try to hear for the shower in the bathroom, maybe her voice if she’s in the hallway on the phone. but as you hear nothing, you sit up, and realize lara’s belongings are all completely gone. she left without letting you know? after all that? you can’t wrap your head around a viable explanation, so you reach for your phone. among the texts from your friends and family, you see lara’s contact, a text from 30 minutes ago.

changed my flight. i added late check out so don’t worry about overstaying. we can talk when you’re back on campus. be safe.

you see the next notification.

6 missed calls.

all from felix.

you feel your heart sink. lara has always been a light sleeper, first to rise at the slightest noise. you can only imagine what she must’ve felt seeing his contact pop up over and over, so insistently, as if he’s even entitled to your attention any more. your heart aches at the thought of lara’s confusion.

(that’s not to even touch on your own confusion– where does all this leave the two of you?)

you call her immediately.

“lara,” you say, and it’s like a warning and a question all in one. “i haven’t talked to him since the breakup. i don’t know what he wants, and i don’t care.”

the line is silent for a moment, and you’re caught off guard. you can hear the airport PA system from behind her, but you’re more surprised at how quiet she is. lara, confident and forward, always has something thoughtful and ready to say, forever the model of composure. she finally lets something out, and you feel your heart break all over again.

“i know you, y/n, and i wasn’t ready to hear you tell me it was over.” she confesses, and her voice sounds so, so painful over the phone. you wish you could wrap her in your arms then and there. “i got lost in it, i know i did, maybe it was selfish because you just got out of something serious, and i wanted you to myself.”

“lar, i’m sorry. what are you thinking right now?” you ask, but you quickly realize it’s the wrong question. her tone changes quickly, faster now, almost insistent.

“no, y/n, please stop. you do this thing, where you won’t give a clear answer. you’ll just ask questions and put all the options out on the table and let people draw their own conclusions.”

“here’s my clear answer,” lara continues. “you are my favorite person on this planet, and i’m so serious about that. so i want to hear it from your mouth. i want to hear what you pick, no bullshit, no yielding to let me make the final choice. with a super clear head, i want you to pick me, or not pick me, knowing all the facts and hearing me say it first. you need to have the final say in something for your life.”

you’re in complete shock, staring into the mirror as she presses forward, her voice firm over the hum of the phone.

“i won’t hate you, if you don’t pick me,” she tells you, voice softening, always the reassuring one. “but i wanted to make sure you knew that i’d pick you if it came down to it, and i’ll be waiting patiently for you to pick me. just how i always have.”

“lar…”

“think about it,” is all she says, before the line goes dead, and you’re left alone with your thoughts.

the airport makes you sick to your stomach and all you want to do is just talk to lara, but you know she deserves more thought than just your anxious impulse. a clear head, and no hesitation. you owe it to lara.

a day of traveling later, and you’ve dragged your bags with you to the hockey rink. megan, yunjin, and dani are all there, taking practice shots into the net even though the season won’t start up again until the fall time.

you see lara’s gear on the bench, but she’s nowhere on the ice to be seen. you hunt a little further to see her in the very top nosebleed seats of the stadium, watching the three practice intensely. you don’t hesitate before racing up the seats, and your stomach drops as she locks eyes on you. her eyes are distant, cold even, but you can’t blame her. she deserves answers.

“i need to tell you something,” you press, sitting down in the seat next to her.

she lets out a quiet breath and turns to face you. you reach out, holding her face in your hands, and your heart aches. she is so impossibly perfect. the truth, as much as it terrifies you, is the least she deserves.

“that night, our kiss, the past two weeks, it meant everything to me,” you admit, your voice shaky. “maybe i’m worried that i’ll lose you as a friend, if we take this leap, but we tried on these hats and it was honestly the most perfect experience ever. and you are so, so perfect, it would be impossible to not want to be with you, and i’m sorry i was such a coward about what i asked of you without acknowledging what it meant for us. it was unfair and it was confusing.”

her eyes warm, but you drop your hands. you have something more to add, the part she truly does deserve, and the part you’ve been too afraid to confront. you continue, your heart threatening to leap out of your chest.

“i need to choose myself, for just a little bit. i’m not going to ask if that’s okay, because i know you’d tell me it is even if it isn’t,” you tell her, and she laughs quietly in response. you take it as the encouragement you need to keep going. “i'm going to be alone for a little bit, i won’t go back to my ex, i won’t find someone new, i just need to be alone to figure some things out, and i’m going to tell you to go do your thing and not wait up for me. if we can be friends through it, that would be amazing, but if not, i won’t hate you either.”

you drop your head slightly to meet her gaze. she’s looking up at you with something in between heartache and pride, and you know exactly how she feels. there’s something painfully bittersweet about the moment.

“i need just a little time to learn how to be a better me, and then it’ll be my turn to come ask you to pick me,” you whisper, tracing your finger across her lips, your favorite lips, before resting your hand on her cheek once more. “and i’ll be okay if you don’t pick me, or if by then you’ve picked someone else.”

“i’m proud of you for this,” she says simply, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into a hug.

you feel hot tears pricking at your eyes, but you manage to smile at her anyways. the end of one chapter, the start of another, you can only hope.

your dad has asked about lara every single time you call for the past few months, and you simply navigate around the question with expert precision. you can’t tell him everything, but you can tell him parts of the truth.

we get to see each other every day. we’re still the team moms. daniela still conspires to make us get married. we’re going to see each other over the summer once the semester ends.

you won’t tell him about how your sleepovers have stopped, and you guys haven’t been alone together in a room since the day after the wedding. she’s still so, so nice to you, but there’s a boundary now.

it’s not awkward, as much as you know things could have ended in disaster. perfect, generous lara raj, who’s always put your friendship ahead of whatever feelings have come up for her, doesn’t flirt with you any more, but still makes an effort to make you feel seen.

manon, who you got so close to that she moved in as your dorm roommate, is shockingly understanding as you come clean and tell her everything. nobody makes the dissolution of your fake relationship weird, and your family is none the wiser. you come out relatively unscathed from the whole thing, the only casualty being you and lara. your friendship is different, you guys aren’t as close, but that’s okay, because she’s still in your life, and that in itself is more than enough.

except for tonight, two weeks before finals, where you decide it’s the night to put into practice all the growing you’ve done to stop being so scared of the what-if’s. it’s your turn to be confident and brave, and let the potential win outweigh the risks.

you feel your stomach lurch as you call her, the starting part of your plan. you guys don’t do this any more, the late night phone calls, so you’re half expecting to have to pivot to a plan b, but she answers by the second ring.

“y/n,” she says simply, and you feel your stomach flip at how genuinely excited she sounds. what an angel.

“hi,” you breathe. “um, just curious about your plans tonight.”

“what’s up?” she asks, half-curious, half-suspicious in her tone.

“are you free?” you ask again.

“for you?” she asks, and you half-expect her to turn you down then and there. but she doesn’t and her soft tone makes your heart thud. “always.”

“no, don’t start,” you wrinkle your nose. “i’m supposed to be the one trying to charm you.”

“charm me? why?” she asks, and you can practically hear the smirk on her lips. ugh, it was almost easier when you guys were back to being just friends. you wouldn’t get this flustered this easily.

“i want to see you when i say it.” you shake your head, feeling the familiar flush that lara leaves you with. “damn, you’re throwing me off. ugh, lara, okay just, come to your car.”

“my car?”

“i have your keys, before you freak out. dani helped me. so just come to the car and be patient.”

you hang up, and you wait eagerly. grand gestures aren’t your thing, but they’re lara’s, so you figure she deserves something that reflects how well you know her.

she arrives, and you can’t suppress your smile as she takes it all in. her car, filled to the brim with pink balloons, three different bouquets of flowers in the passenger’s seat. you’ve decorated it with pictures of the two of you from your years of friendship, including countless of candids taken by the girls of the two of you together. on the dashboard, you have a giant, handwritten sign with pictures of lara’s face, and in big bold letters: #17, GO OUT WITH ME?

her eyes are wide, and you wonder if you’ve maybe gone too far with everything. in the months since the wedding, you guys have stayed friends, sure, but maybe you misread her? maybe this wasn’t the grand gesture you thought it would be?

“y/n…” lara starts, before offering you an apologetic furrow of her brows. “i have a girlfriend.”

you feel your stomach sink. you’ve deleted your instagram since all this happened, and you and lara don’t talk about those kinds of things any more, plus megan was so heartbroken about you guys not ending up together, it’s super possible she didn’t want to mention the new relationship to you. plus plus, daniela’s terrible with secrets, so why would she help you with this whole thing in the first place, but she can absolutely show up when she needs to– damn. your shot disappears in front of your very eyes.

“oh my god, lar, i’m so sorry. i um–” you stammer.

she’s staring at you with those dark eyes, before a stupid grin takes over her stern features. “hah! see, told you you should have jumped on me sooner.”

you feel your eyes nearly bug out of your head. oh my god.

“what do you think i’m going to say to you right now?” you nearly growl, your heart still pounding at the near miss.

lara screams laughing, nearly doubling over as she pokes a finger into your cheek. your skin jumps at the contact. “hopefully you’ll say, kiss me and be mine, no more waiting.”

you sigh and take her face in both hands, emboldened by your new outlook on life. no more being afraid.

“lara raj, i’m sorry for making you wait. thank you for being so, so perfect, and letting me be ready for you. i’d like to love you for a really long time, if that’s–” you pause, realizing you were about to ask for her permission.

you clear your throat and look her directly in the eyes. “you better let me love you until the earth blows up.”

“i like that so much better than what i thought you’d up with,” she beams brightly, opening the door to he car and sitting in the drivers seat, motioning for you to come towards her.

“i bet you do,” you laugh, letting her pull you into her lap.

“told you we’d fall in love eventually,” she grins cheekily.

you sigh and press a fingertip against her nose. “actually, i was in love with you way before all this. just needed to figure some things out.”

for the first time since you’ve known her, lara raj is speechless.

“got your fine ass,” you grin, before you lean in. “now that you’ve shut up, i’m going to kiss you.”

“you were so, so worth the wait,” she whispers, and you let yourself believe her. the girl of your dreams, perfect and confident lara raj, and she’s finally yours.

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