#still trying to figure out if i want it to be a setup or just him fucking up

[roaringheat]

Try not to make my DND character Arthur Morgan challenge. Difficulty: impossible

#vark posts #gripping my pencil and snapping it in two #im mostly goofin but theres def similarities lol #criminal tough guy whos lived past his prime and is running from his past crimes #my character is still morally grey but they put up a big + cold front cause he's untrusting #i want them to be on the run from a some kind of crime gone wrong that ends up with him accidentally burning down half a town #still trying to figure out if i want it to be a setup or just him fucking up #but given hes middle aged i think a fuck up that big would seem off since hes supposed to be like experienced and shit #so maybe he gets set up by an old partner and thats why hes so distrusting of ppl #i got a little off topic from the og post lmao im fr fleshing this dude out in god damn tags

[ashfae]

The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.

As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.

Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.

The problem is a story is only a story.

Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.

But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.

And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.

Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.

Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?

Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.

Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.

The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.

Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)

The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.

Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.

The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.

Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.

But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.

But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.

The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.

And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.

Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.

But they'll get there. So will we.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #nina #maggie #nina and maggie #stories #romance #relationships #am I projecting here #of course I am isn't that the whole point? #pride and prejudice #elizabeth and darcy #quiet gentle romantic #good omens meta

[variousqueerthings]

the doctor being a part of the noble family has the energy of an addams family cousin -- imagines rose being in a school play and the doctor fixing up some gizmo to open up a tiny gap to some part of the universe where stars shine particularly brightly for midsummer night's dream, and accidentally almost levels the school by misjudging how close they are to this one very dense planet (people in the audience confusedly waving at aliens who are just as confusedly waving their tentacles back from a thousand years in the future a million light years away. everybody afterwards talks about the great special effects, but they're not sure what it has to do with the story)

people trying to figure out who this "the doctor" person is and why he's living with the nobles, and always trying to catch out that there's something going on, but the doctor's answers to all their inquiries are so lowkey bonkers as to bamboozle any further attempts (so where are you from again? oh just this place, well, I say place, planet, well, I say planet I don't actually know these days, but somewhere certainly... is Ipswich a place? how do you know mrs noble again? we travelled together for a bit, and then, well you know how it is when you get hit with a face full of radiation, ey *snort-laughs at his own joke* and what's your name again? doctor, the "the" is a pronoun, it can get confusing I know, but people on this planet choose their names all the time, you'll catch up)

just this house gremlin in a setup that nobody from the outside understands, toddling about, showing up at every event that rose has going for her, wearing little pride pins that might be partially for himself as well as for rose (gay??? one of those trans ones????), always seems to be talking about strange places that nobody has heard of but doesn't want to admit to, occasionally goes eerily still and unnerving around people who are cruel and mean, knows a lot about history, but peppers it with facts that can't possibly be true, gets on very well with shaun who always answers questions with "the doctor's part of the family, youknow?" they do not know, but at this point it's too rude to keep asking

#doctor who #dw #dw spoilers #doctor who spoilers #as someone who IS a resident house gremlin with my partner/her husband #i have had had some Reactions to our setup from places ranging from the bank to nosy neighbours #doctor who meta #the fourteenth doctor #the doctor #rose noble #donna noble #shaun noble

[g0niki]

camera's on ── y.jw p.js

pairing: bf!jungwon x afab!reader x classmate!jay

word count: 3.4k+

content: no protection (wrap it up 😓), oral (m&f receiving), light mxm (ooo they're both boys,,ooo and they're kissing), exhibitionism, jay is a little mean, jw is a little dumb, recording. i think that's it

a/n: another late-night banger, wrote this at like 4am and barely proofread it because i'm just a girl 🤷. lmk if anyone wants a part two!

“shit shit shit-“ won wasn’t giving you a single break, his hand rested on top of your head as he pushed your head down into the pillows. his hips repeatedly thrust in and out of you, knocking the air out of your lungs each time as you stare back at your reflection through his phone camera. 

the camera quality was shitty, blurry, and shaky, jumping any and every time won’s pelvis came in contact with your ass, but to won you looked angelic. he didn’t care how ‘bad’ it was, he could see your face red and stained with tears while also being able to see how good you took him. what he did not like was just how much the setup would come crashing down, like now. 

“wait wonnie-“ jungwon throws his head back in frustration, already knowing what words were going to come out of your mouth “it fell again...” won pulls out, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips as he crawls off the bed again to grab the small device, hand running through his hair in frustration. you sit up, pulling the blankets up to cover your figure. 

“we can try again another time…”  jungwon holds the phone in his hand now, his hand coming up to push your hair back and cup your face. he sees the slight pout on your face, knowing you haven’t gotten the chance to finish yet. he looks down at his erection, not as hard as it was before but still there. 

“let me finish you off baby,” tossing his phone to the side and tugging the blanket off of you. he grips your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the bed, kneeling between them and immediately getting to work. his tongue pressing flat against you and licking from top to bottom before inserting his muscle inside you and using his right hand to massage your clit. another failed attempt at completing one of his sex list goals, but that doesn’t mean he was going to leave his princess high and dry once again. 

jungwon continues to practically make out with your cunt. burying his face in your warmth and moving his fingers from your clit and to the outside of your entrance, gently pushing two of his digits inside and feeling around the space. you can hear the slurping sounds he makes, knowing it’s messy and that his face is coated in your essence yet unable to bring yourself up to look. too overcome with the feeling of ecstasy and throwing your head back as your back arches up. 

jungwon’s hips rutt against the edge of the bed, trying his best to match up with the pace of his fingers and trying to imagine the feeling of you clenching around his fingers being around his member instead.  

the feeling of his fingers curling up inside you finally sending you over the edge as won digs his hips into the mattress a couple more times, lapping at your cum to properly finish himself off. the warm cum oozing out and spreading against the bed sheets and his stomach. 

he might not have gotten the recording, but at least he still has you gasping for air in front of him. 

【☆】★【☆】

jungwon was in a bad mood and everyone on campus could tell. his hand gripped the strap of his backpack tightly, tight enough for the vein in his arm to pop out, his eyebrows pinched together in annoyance, and the inside of his right cheek was caught between his teeth. 

most of the time people would say hi and ask won how he was doing or stop him to exchange a couple of words, but anyone with working eyes could tell not to speak to the boy at that moment, let alone look at him. 

 jungwon tosses his bag onto the ground next to the table his friends are all studying at, all of them pausing their work to look up at him as if he had his head screwed on backward.

“who the hell spit in your coffee this morning?” sunoo scoffed, closing his book and setting his head on his palm to glare at jungwon. “that was unnecessary, interrupting our peace.” jungwon watched as sunoo rolled his eyes and sighs, jake nudging the sassy ginger. 

“cmon bro he’s clearly having a rough morning.” jake gives him a sympathetic smile, ruffling sunoo’s hair to get him off of jungwon’s back. “what’s got you like.. this?” the aussie looks jungwon up and down, taking in his messy look and the bags under his eyes, “you don’t even look this bad during finals.”

jungwon plops down onto the chair, rubbing his eyes and groaning out loud. “personal issues.” trying his best to keep the situation slightly vague. the answer wasn’t enough, sunoo and jake gave him a look that said ‘like???’

“recording issues,”

“recording… like a camera?” jungwon shoots sunoo a look, coming off harsher than he meant it to be, the ginger putting his hands up in response “jeez i’m just making sure, didn’t know you had a pole up your ass today.” 

“sorry hyung… it’s just really bothering me.”

“i was going to tell you to give you that junior jay’s number, but it seems like you don’t need my input.” sunoo looks away to check his nails,  not bothering to further explain himself. 

“who’s jay?”

“you know? the videography major from america.” jake ignores sunoo’s attitude and continues the conversation for him, filling in jungwon. “i’m sure he could help you with camera shit.” 

that’s how won found himself in front of the creative arts building. a sticky note in his hand with the room number 6-107 and the name of one of his seniors. the building being the polar opposite of his majors with a sleek and cool design, making him feel as if he stepped foot onto a completely different campus. 

after a couple of awkward interactions and asking people if they had seen this mysterious jay, jungwon was finally pointed towards a guy. his golden blondish hair sitting messily as he clicked away on his laptop, a nice looking camera sitting next to the device. 

park jay… or jongseong. he’s not sure which one he should be calling him but his legs are dragging him right over to the older boy. 

“i need your help.” jungwon stood over him, he’s eyes sharply looking at the blonde and waiting for him to look up.  jay’s head slowly looks jungwon up from bottom to top, making eye contact and raising his brow, licking the corner of his lip before speaking up. 

“do i know you?” jay minimizes his tabs, jungwon watching as the editing apps close one by one and the only thing left is jay’s camera roll, many thumbnails displayed on the screen in front of him. “and my services aren’t free.” 

despite jay having to look up at jungwon, won is still a bit intimidated. jay’s aura is suffocating, having him swallowing down the lump in his throat to continue the conversation. 

“yang jungwon. i just had a couple of questions about camera setup…” 

“i guess i could spare some tips, what camera are you using?” 

“my phone...”

“… do you have a tripod?”

“no…” jay blankly stares at jungwon, shutting his laptop and beginning to pack his things into his back. 

“you must take me for some kind of joke.”  grabbing his now-packed bag and slinging it over his shoulder done with the current conversation. 

“wait wait wait i’m serious i swear. i just… haven’t gotten my start.” jay sighs deeply, his eyes stabbing jungwon with a piercing glare. 

“do you have good lighting?” jungwon pauses for a second and thinks back to his room, he had some poorly strung-up led lights as well as an accent lamp in the corner of his bedroom.

“maybe…”

“you don’t have a camera, don’t have a proper setup, and you might have a lightbulb. what kind of project is this?” jay’s voice sounded flabbergasted, unable to understand jungwon’s vision from a videographer’s point of view, whatever the fuck jungwon was planning to record was going to be trash. 

“a personal project.”

“well, then what the fuck is in it for me?” 

“… not much.” 

jungwon had no idea how he managed to do it, but now jay was standing in his bedroom, analyzing the environment, walking around the bed, and looking at the room. turning around to stare at jungwon with a look of judgment. 

“are you trying to film a fucking porn?’ 

“whaaatt nah, nothing like that…” jungwon’s hand scratches the back of his neck, eyes avoiding the other boys.

“sure, what’s the focus point?”

“… the bed”

“alright, porn it is.” 

“it’s not porn. it’s wrestling!” jungwon winces at his bad cover-up, if it wasn’t already obvious (clearly it was) he had just blown his (non-existent) cover. 

“listen, every videographer has dabbled into pornography. there’s no shame, anyways i’d say this angle right here is best for a still shot.” 

“what about close-ups-“ and before won could finish his sentence the sound of the front door shutting could be heard through the small apartment and the sound of your voice shouting down the empty hallway to him. 

“baby, i’m home- oh we have guests??” jungwon doesn’t miss the way you quickly scan jay’s figure before leaning in to give won a peck on the lips, quickly pulling away and excusing yourself. “practice was long, i’m gonna go wash up.”

“she’s a dancer?” jungwon doesn’t fail to miss how jay keeps his eyes on you as you walk out, hands in his pockets before he resumes his conversation with won. “consultation fee is usually $100, but since you and your girlfriend are hot and you’re desperate, i could go for $75.” jay leans on the door frame, watching as you walk out of the bathroom in your shorts and sport-bra, grabbing the towel you seemed to have forgotten. 

“… great, i’ll pay you this weekend.” won also didn’t fail to watch you run across the hallway to grab your favorite fuzzy towel, and he certainly didn’t miss jay calling the two of you hot. 

“this weekend? you can’t be fucking serious.” jay pinches the space between his eyebrows, swearing he could feel his brain thumping against his temple dealing with the younger. 

“or, my girlfriend and i could give a different form of payment?” 

【☆】★【☆】

you weren’t expecting your boyfriend to sit you down on your bed after your shower, nothing but a towel wrapped around you while the guy you had briefly seen earlier set up a camera in the corner of your room. you weren’t put off though… the way his sharp eyes looked over and he adjusted the camera every few minutes was enough to have a puddle forming between your legs. 

“jay’s going to be helping us with that bucket list baby?” jungwon’s sickeningly sweet voice came from in front of you, his hands rubbing your thighs as he squatted in front of you, the now identified jay working behind him. “you’re already doing such a good job and being so pretty for the camera.”

“camera’s on, just start when you’re ready.” even his voice was enough to send shivers down your spine. 

“why don’t you take this off pretty?” jungwon tugs on the end of the towel, slipping it from around your form and dropping it onto the floor. his hands return to your thighs, dragging up to your waist as he raises himself to be leveled with your chest. kissing your left boob before taking your nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the hardened nub. 

“why don’t you make some noise for the camera, don’t make me feel like i’m wasting my time here.” jay’s harsh words paired with jungwon lightly biting down on your nipple has you letting out a high-pitched sound of satisfaction. “just like that.”

jungwon’s pushing you back and lifting your legs onto his shoulders, moving down to kiss your cunt. “put on a show for hyung? we want to make this worth it for him baby.” he marks the inside of your thighs up, leaving you to pull at your hair in frustration, the build-up not being nearly enough for you. 

“please wonnie, please i need more.” 

“i don’t think the camera is picking that up, say it louder pretty.”  jungwon laughs against your cunt, pulling back and looking over at jay, the obvious bulge between the blonde’s legs on display. “jay hyung, why don’t you bring the camera closer, she’s dripping like crazy.” 

jay moves the set-up, bringing the camera close as won moves out of the way, giving the perfect view of your cunt glistening and dripping down onto the bed. you can hear jay groan, looking up to see him straining against his slacks. 

seeing jungwon and jay stand next to each other and glare at you through the screen of the camera setting something off inside of you. 

“can i be the director for a moment…” you speak lowly, unsure of if the two of them would let you get your hands on the camera, but pleasantly surprised when jay hands the device over to you. jay and won continue to stand over you, watching you fumble with the camera and flip it around towards them, the visual of them looking down on you making you cower and turning you on all at once. 

“what do you want us to do angel?” jay smirks at you, chuckling lightly as he watches you fumble around with the camera.

“take off your shirts…”

“what do you say, angel?”

“…please?”

“good girl.” you watch as the two of them grab the backs of their shirts and tug them over their heads, the contrast in their skin tones complimenting each other nicely. 

“could you kiss too… please?”

“you remembered your manners, good job.” jay turns to face won, grabbing your boyfriend’s chin. you had never seen your boyfriend look so gone before, you usually had an idea of what he was thinking but with his empty eyes and jaw slightly dropped down you were sure you knew exactly what he was thinking. he wanted jay just as much as you did. 

“you okay with kissing me, pretty boy?” the way jungwon dumbly nods back at jay makes the older suck air through his teeth. “fuck, you two are making me so hard right now.” pushing his lips against your boyfriend’s roughly, you gasping behind the camera and pushing your knees together, trying your best to hold steady and keep the two of them in frame. 

without you having to give any further direction jay is pulling jungwon in by his waist, won raising his arms to tangle his hands in jay’s hair, messing up the strands that were once neatly styled. 

jay’s deep groans mixed with won’s whines drive you crazy, the two of them dragging their covered-up cocks together, the layers between them making them push against each other desperately.  

you put the camera down and reach for won’s belt trying your best to help only to feel a slap against your hands, jay’s hand roughly grabbing the hair on the back of your head and tilting your head up to look at him.

“what do you think you’re doing?” 

you freeze, lip slightly quivering as you struggle to respond. 

“i- i’m helping..” you hear jay tsk, shaking his head at you. 

“jungwon, she isn’t even recording. wasn’t that the whole point of this? I might as well pack my things up and leave.” 

“apologize y/n. you’re disappointing our guest.” the switch that flipped in won’s mind had you reeling. just a moment ago he was almost as out of it as you were, you couldn’t even begin to figure out how he could bounce back in a split second. his hand reached towards your face and pinched your cheek, slightly shaking your face in a teasing way. “what do you say to jay hyung?”

“i’m sorry. i’m really sorry jay.”

“how about i prop the camera up and then you can show me just how sorry you are? you’d like that yeah?” he massages the back of your head, soothing the spot he tugged on before picking up his camera and walking back over to the tripod. “help won out of those pants.”

you drop to your knees immediately getting to work, taking off won’s belt and dropping the pants to his ankle, massaging his achingly hard length through his thin boxers. you could see his member jump through the flimsy material, spit building up in your mouth at the thought of having it lay heavy on your tongue. 

you’re unable to stop yourself from leaning in and sucking on the tip, the soft material between your mouth and his skin doing very little to stop you, the spot growing darker as you suckle him. 

“nu uh, i need my payment first.” jay softly pushes jungwon out of the way and sits on the mattress, beckoning for the two of you to come over to him.

jay pulls his pants and underwear down, letting his irritated tip meet the cool air and slap up against his stomach. your eyes go wide, he’s thick and long. a prominent vein up the side that you’d kill to feel inside you.

“come on now, wrap those pretty lips around me.” jay spreads his legs and makes space for you between him, letting you settle between him before pulling your hair back into a loose ponytail. “say ‘ahh’” and the moment you do the most satisfying grown is leaving both jay and won’s mouths. your face flushes, proud of yourself for getting both of them to react in such a way. 

jay taps his member against your tongue before pushing in with no warning, enjoying the way you gag around him and your throat clenches around his tip. you struggle to take him properly, tears building up in your eyes as you look up to him and practically plead for him to let you up. 

jungwon groans beside jay, kissing up on his tan skin and marking up jay’s neck after every couple of kisses. you wanted so badly to join won and help, but the feeling of jay cock continuously thrumming against the back of your throat has you losing focus and your eyes rolling back. 

“she can’t even do it on her own, why don’t you help her out won?” you pull off for a quick moment, keeping only the tip in your mouth to suck on as you watch won bite down onto jay’s neck, the older boy hissing, his length twitching in your mouth as he does so. “come on she’s waiting for you.”

won uses his thumb to wipe the spit from his lower lip, wrapping both his hands around jay’s length and pumping the older boy, waiting for you to continue bobbing your head up and down. 

“fuck, i’m seeing stars right now.” 

your tongue comes out the trace the underside of his member, jay’s thighs clenching underneath your hands as you push yourself to take more, won’s hands getting everything you couldn’t reach. you watch as won slightly opens his hand, letting a glob of spit slip out of his mouth and drip down onto jay’s cock, adding more to the messy mixture of precum and your spit that’s already glazing jay’s member.

you couldn’t tell if the slick sounds were because of your mouth or jungwon’s slippery hands but you do know jay was loving every moment of it and you were going to have to watch back this tape later.

without any warning your throat was being coated with a warm release, jay tugging you off as jungwon milked the rest out of him, letting the last couple of streaks paint your lips and lashes. 

“show me my cum angel.” you open your mouth, one eye-opening as the other stays shut, trying to prevent the cum from getting in. jay spits into your mouth, watching as his clear liquid mixes with the pearly white one. 

“pretty, i want a taste too.” your boyfriend’s hand came around your next and pulled you up to him, lips meeting and his tongue scooping jay’s fluids into his mouth, groaning at the taste of both you and his senior.  swallowing down the bit of liquid he was able to get into his mouth. both you and won gulped it down before facing jay and showing him both your tongues, proof of it being all gone. 

“fuck i need this on tape-“

and then you hear three beeps from the corner of the room. 

“never mind, the camera just died...”

ᯓ★

@g0niki all rights reserved. do not translate or post my work anywhere without permission.

#rey's messy mind #g0niki #enha smut #jay smut #jongseong smut #jungwon smut #enhypen smut #enha scenarios #enha x reader #kpop smut #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enha recs #enha oneshots

[squoxle]

HIIEUSI WAS WHHEE HI SIS I WAS WONDERING U COULD DO ARCADE FF WITH HEESEUNG ?

Omg girl I haven’t had time to write a damn thing yet and my drafts are piling up. But moots take TOP priority and I try to respond to asks as fast as possible. Anywaysss here you go and I hope u enjoy 🩷

Ride Me ~ L.HS

pairing: Heeseung!bf x Reader!gf| wc: 1k | summary: Things take a steamy turn after your boyfriend shows you his new at-home arcade setup. | cw: 🔞MDNI!! unprotected sex, cumshots, fingering, clit stimulation, pet names [daddy, good girl, baby] <- 100% Heeseung coded [porn with a plot] Enjoy :)

“Well babe, what do you think?” Heeseung asked as he uncovered your eyes revealing the mass gaming setup. “I figured I’d use this more than the theater room,” he ruffled his hands through his hair, anxiously waiting for you to respond.

“It looks great, but I’m gonna miss our little movie nights under the blankets,” you smiled as you walked up to one of the machines.

You clicked a few of the large buttons, anticipating a pixelated image to flash across the screen. “Umm, how do you turn this thing on?” You asked as nothing seemed to work.

Heeseung placed his hand on the edge beside you, trapping you beneath him as he reached down to flick a power switch. You felt his weight slightly press you against the machine as he did this.

“I must’ve forgotten to turn this one on,” he met your eyes through his shaggy hair. Something about that state felt off, but maybe it was just you so you brushed off the feeling and proceeded to look at the other games he had.

A zombie survival simulator that came with 4 guns.

A claw machine filled with plushes.

A retro fighting game.

And a two player motorcycle game.

Eager to try this one out, you climbed onto the bike.

“Of all the stuff you just saw, im surprised this is the one you wanted to play,” Heeseung tilted his head.

“Yeah, well, I like racing games. Stuff like MarioKart, y’know,” Heeseung watched as you struggled to reach the coin slot from your seat. The opening sat just out of your reach.

Your tits pressed up against the leather as your cheek meshed with cold material.

"Let me help you," Heeseung whispered in your ear as he reached over to insert the coin. You felt him pushing himself up against you from behind which sent butterflies through your stomach.

You went to the loading screen and customized your bike, "If you wanna play, there's another bike," you said as you noticed your boyfriend was still straddled on the bike behind you. His hands gripped the back of the seat as he sat there with his legs spread open.

You had a bad habit of staring at the print in his pants, didn't matter if he was hard or soft. You craved to feel him inside of you.

"I know, but I wanna see how you ride," he smirked as he grabbed your hips, quickly jerking your hips backward.

Feeling the heat rush to your face you continued to start up the game. You chose a Tokyo map because of the neon cityscape terrain at night time. Though you tried your best to stay focused you couldn't shake the feeling of Heeseung sitting behind you like this.

"San, ni, ichi...sutato," the automated female voice called out as tri-colored traffic lights flashed across the screen. The aggressive rumble from the bike startled you as it took off.

You felt as Heeseung squeezed your hips again before leaning against you. You nearly crashed as his touch caught you off guard.

"Be careful baby," he said before placing a kiss on your neck.

"I-I'm trying. But you keep distracting me," you stuttered.

"Am I really that distracting," he asked as he slipped his hands around your thighs, squeezing and pulling at the flesh.

"Ngh," you groaned. "Yes, you are."

"Oh, but you like it when I touch you like this. Don't you?" Heeseung grinded his hips against you.

"Mmm," you moaned as you felt his budge pressing into you. "H-heeseung," you said letting out a soft breath.

"Keep driving baby. If you come in first place, I'll give you a little treat," he hummed as he reached his fingers in between your folds. Your growing wetness slowly seeped through the fabric of your panties.

"Ngh!" you huffed as he massaged your clit through your shorts.

He continued to tease you as you struggled to finish the race, barely coming in first after finding a shortcut.

As the gold star shot across the screen, Heeseung hummed a raspy "Good girl," in your ear before helping you out of your shorts.

At this point, you were only wearing your hot pink thong--something you knew Heeseung loved to use. "Show me that pretty little pussy of yours," he bit his lip as you pulled the small fabric to the side, exposing your wet folds.

He smiled as he palmed himself before pulling his veiny cock out only to glide it between your slimy lips and tease your sensitive bead with his tip.

You whimpered as you began pushing yourself against his hard dick, eagerly trying to force it inside.

He halted your movements by gripping the inside of your thighs, spreading your legs more, before telling you to "ride Daddy's dick like the good girl I know you are."

Immediately after he said those words, he shoved his dick deep inside of you, causing you to let out a sharp groan. "Fuck," he winced. "You're still so fucking tight," he said slowly pumping his cock into you. "Ngh," he moaned before leaning forward to kiss your neck as your ragged breathing filled his ear. "You sound so fucking sexy when you're taking my dick like this," he pecked your cheek as you finally adjusted to his length.

You started to grind into your boyfriend, stuffing his cock deeper into you as he held you from your waist. "That's it, baby, just like that," his words encouraged you to pick up the speed as he pulled your lips into his, gripping your throat.

He turned you over and fucked you from the back as your tits pressed up against the leather. You clenched around him as he let out a groan. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he gritted through his teeth before 3 long, hard thrusts. You felt his warm seed spill into you and drip out as you came with him. Fortunately, your panties caught the majority of the spill.

Exhausted, you laid across the bike as Heeseung kissed your shoulders.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @hynjinnn1 @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfic #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #enhypen imagines #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #enhypen #lee heeseung #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfic #heeseung scenarios #enhypen lee heeseung smut #enhypen lee heeseung #request

[babymochibeargyu]

Drunk on Gyu

POV:drunk bf gyu trying to get your attention while you’re trying to complete your homework

genre:fluff

wc:~1.1k

Assignments were pilling up on your table and there was not a single spot left that was empty. That’s when you realized that you were spending too much time with your bf and neglecting your studies. 

I mean look at him, how could you ignore that cutie patootie face? But you decided that the next day you would finally start on your assignments, if not you wouldn’t be able to complete them by the deadline. 

But of course, nothing goes according to plan… 

Once class finished, you were trying to scurry off without your bf, but he was already waiting for you, outside your class to go back together to your place. 

To be fair, that was the daily routine for you guys. That you both would hang out at your place until the day ends. 

Gyu would usually stay over unless his parents wanted to have dinner with him. But that was not the case for today.

You didn’t even let him know that you were planning to focus on your assignments without any distractions so you couldn’t fault him at all. 

Yes, you weren’t happy to admit it, but this man distracted you very much without even trying that hard.

Once y'all got together he has never left your side unless he needed to(which was when he had to go home for dinner).

And you didn’t realize it until it happened. You’ve always thought that he came to your life to bring more light and happiness (which he had.)

All the times you’ve spent with him have been nothing but bliss and laughter which you appreciated.

And that when the time came, you would be able to revert to yourself being okay alone. 

But the more time you guys spent together, the more he stayed by your side, whenever it came to the time he had to leave you to go back home, the feeling of emptiness started to grow more and more and you realized that you did not want him to leave you alone in the house. 

But what could you do? It isn’t like you guys were planning to get married anytime soon. 

But for now, he is not going anywhere and he was happy about it. It was a Friday and that meant he could have you to himself for the next two days. Oh boy was he already planning to stay over. 

I think he was a little too over the moon because his parents weren’t around for the weekend and that meant that he wouldn’t need to leave your side. 

He had already come up with a game plan of spending the next few days together with you. 

Lunch 

Play video games 

Dinner 

And repeat for the next two days

But what he didn’t know was that after lunch you were not gonna indulge in his game plan, but put all your focus in completing your assignments. 

After you guys had finished lunch, you went to take a shower.

Gyu on the other hand, while you were showering, had already set up the gaming console and set it up in two-player mode, thinking that you would join him after your bath. 

However, when you were done, you didn’t join him on the floor in front of the gaming setup, but sat at your desk, trying to figure out where you should start. 

Gyu then stood up from where he was sitting and walked towards you. When he was beside you, you looked up from your assignment and saw that he was pouting and pointing to the gaming console.

“I would love to join you Gyu, but I’m behind on my assignments. I promise I’ll join you after I get at least 1/3 of it alright?” 

With that, he didn’t say anything but kissed you on the cheek for motivation and went to play the game by himself. 

2hrs passed and you were still not beside him playing the game. You were so focused on your assignment that you didn’t even realize Gyu had gone to the kitchen to get some beers because he was feeling restless waiting for you to be 1/3 done with your assignments. 

After a while, you came back to reality and heard no noise coming from Gyu. Usually, when he plays video games, it involves a lot of screaming. However, it was dead silent. 

You quickly turned around and saw Gyu, just lying on your bed looking lovingly at you. And then you saw the can of beers on the floor and you realized why he was silent. 

Gyu was such a cute drunk. Usually, when he is sober, he would be such a loud dork. But when he was drunk, it was like he was a whole other person. 

He would just stare at you silently. Looking at your beautiful features over and over again. Thinking to himself what did he do to deserve such a wonderful person like yourself? 

And that was what was happening. Even though he was drunk after a few cans of beer, he still held onto your promise that you would join him after you were done with 1/3 of your assignments. He didn’t walk up to you and pester you to hurry up but gave you the space and time you needed. And you loved that about him.

Even though you weren’t looking at him, he just continued to gaze in your direction, hoping that you would turn around soon. 

Which you did eventually because you were worried about the silence that should not be happening. And so when you locked eyes with Gyu, you folded so quickly. 

You dropped your pen and went to him. Giving Gyu a big hug and showering him with kisses because he waited for you so well. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think that it would take me that long to finish 1/3 of my assignments. It’s getting late we should order some dinner or we could eat some ramyeon.” you said to the cute drunk in your bed. 

He simply just nodded because he was too drunk to even form any sentences, hence you decided to order pizza for dinner instead because you thought that drunk Gyu would probably burn himself while eating ramyeon. 

Bonus~

Once you guys were done with dinner, you sat back in your chair wanting to get back to your assignments when suddenly Gyu walked up beside you. And it was the cutest thing ever. 

He had stuck a squishy toy that you had lying on your bedside table on his forehead. With that, you decided to stop with the assignments for today and gave your full attention to your drunk bf for the rest of the night. 

You guys ended up cuddling until you both fell asleep. 

masterlist

Ahh I really loved writing this. Wrote this after i saw the drunk gyu live and he was too adorable. This really gave me butterflies while i was writing because i feel that gyu would actually do this.

Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did!!(lmk your thoughts abt this one in the comments, would really love more interaction with you guys🫶🏻see yall in the next one🤍)

Edit: yall are insane its been 4 days since i published this and its at 280 notes now?🥹only started writing a few days ago, so happy that u guys enjoyed this as much as i did

© babymochibeargyu - all rights reserved. please do not copy/repost/translate

#babymochibeargyu #drunk on gyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu soft hours #txt beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #txt x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu imagines #choi beomgyu fluff #txt fluff #beomgyu x you #drunk gyu #drunk beomgyu

[zalayni]

🌆 LOVE U 3000┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pairing: earth 42!miles morales x reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: your life is always interesting now that you're dating the one and only miles morales.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ author's note: the discord server for atsv fans between 13-16 is still open so hmu if you wanna join 😝😝

he cups his hand under your mouth whenever he feeds you food so it won't fall on your clothes.

“here Mami try this” miles cupped his hand under her chin and gently blew in the soup that he had in a spoon so it wouldn't burn your mouth.

your his shadowboxing victim whenever his friends aren't around

he doesn't mind being his nerdy self around you

miles punched the air and faked dodge a nonexistent punch before turning towards you as you sat on his bed with your phone in your hand. “do you think I can defeat batman?” you rolled your eyes and chuckled at him. “Miles he's like twice your size.”

you two obviously play fight for fun. he never once hurt you for real

he gets too lazy to type out his messages sometimes so he resorts into sending you voicenotes instead

deadly ass side eye whenever you jokingly insult him

“that purple hoodie you have on makes you look like grimace” you said with a hand on your mouth to stop the laughter that was about to burst out of her. Miles stopped in his tracks slowly turning his eyes towards you, side eyeing your laughing figure. “you play too much.”

he has the receipt tucked into his wallet from your guy's first date which was at the arcade.

has his lockscreen and wallpaper saved as a picture of you two. he changes it atleast once a month because he adores taking pictures of you.

a bright flash disturbed you from doing your skin care routine. you turned your vanity chair towards the source only to find Miles smiling down at his phone. “did you just take a picture of me?” “um maybe."

you two love to post eachother on your instagrams

bro does not know how to swim 😭😭 if you're able to swim then he'll ask you to teach him but if you can't that still won't stop the two of you from going swimming especially when it's summer

stares at you whenever you're doing your makeup, hair, or even your skincare.

“Morales you're staring.” you joked seeing him stare at you from the corner of your eye. this made Miles scoff “so what?”

he wears a chain with your initial as the pendant and he wears matching bracelets with you.

whenever he sleeps with a bonnet on he wakes up with the end of it hiding one of his eyes.

“what are you laughing at?” he croaked still obviously half asleep. “did you turn emo miles?” you asked before pointing at his bonnet that slipped down, hiding his left eye.

really wanted to get his ears pierced and when he finally got them he was squeezing the blood out of your hands once they held the needle against his hear

you winced at how tight Miles's grip on your hand got. You saw him shut his eyes tightly when the needle went through making the hole for the piercing. Once it was all done he looked down at your hand noticing how red it is which made him laugh. “sorry Mami.”

“five more minutes” warrior. that man refuses to get up early even if you two need to be somewhere on time.

he has a habit of turning towards you with the "did you just see that?" look whenever he sees someone doing something embarrassing.

he'll ask you to come over just so you two can bake together. his mom thinks the two of you are adorable

he has a PC set up with a his gaming chair and right next to it is your set up and chair that he had bought so you two can play together

“do you like it?" Miles said while uncovering your eyes to show you his hard work on setting everything up. the whole setup was based on your favorite colors. “how much did this cost?” you asked making Miles shut you up with a kiss. “don't even worry about it.”

you two danced in the rain once thinking it was a good idea but the both of you ended up sick afterwards

he gifts you a promise ring since you two are too young to get married just yet

has a habit of turning his head so his lips could reach your hand whenever you cup his face

has a whole board filled with pictures of you two either from a polaroid or photobooths

over all gentleman towards you (and his mom ofc)

actually loves physical touch

you were standing up making yourself a sandwich for a late night snack until you felt someone snake their arms around your waist and rest their head against your shoulder. you didn't have to look over your shoulder to figure out who it was. “hey, you hungry?” miles hummed against your shoulder, tightening his grip on your waist. “yeah.”

when you two take the subway he has his arm wrapped around your waist while resting his hand on your hip as his free hand was holding onto one of the poles. he does this no creep comes your way and so you won't fall as the subway can be pretty rough at times.

pulls out his phone whenever you two aren't together in person.

“miss you :(”

“miles I literally just left like a couple minutes ago”

he knows whenever you feel down even if you don't say anything about it

“hermosa, look at me.” he lifted your chin with his hand making you stare up at him. “what's wrong? you're not your usual self.”

respects your boundaries and leaves you alone/drops the subject if you don't feel comfortable talking about it at the moment

“sorry, I just. I just don't wanna talk about it right now.” Miles smiled at you before kissing the top of your hand that he was holding. “it's okay mi niña hermosa, talk to me when you're ready."

#across the spiderverse #atsv #miles morales #atsv imagines #earth42 miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n

[capslocked]

PANACEA

male reader x sakura && kazuha

17k words

Sakura can't expect you to actually be down for this - the setup, the miscommunication, the endless drama, all that messy work, and for what, your girlfriend-in-eveything-but-name-only's peace of mind?

You lean in. "Declining. Politely. Please."

“C'mon, It’s foolproof. Have I ever steered you wrong?” she says with a click of her tongue. “We can fix her.”

(It isn’t foolproof. She has. And you can’t.)

-

If you’re going to get tangled up in origin stories, this is probably a good place to start: at this gaudy bar, on the gaudier side of Ginza, with the shops you can’t afford to shop at - whose clientele can’t afford to be seen with you. It’s not your first pick, and you can say this because it so very often is, that this one’s all Sakura’s idea.

To be specific, it starts when Sakura grabs you by the wrist - Kazuha pinched by the fabric of her dress - and shuffles you both into a coat closet, which is as empty as the frost-less days of spring might expect. It was probably a mistake, thinking she wasn’t serious, but it’s that uncanny talent of hers, to always find someplace or another to steal away.

And look, you’re not crazy about the bar scene. Not here. You never have been.

When you’re at home, when you’re alone - when it’s you and Sakura - it never takes long to fall into that sensual rhythm of give and take, but here, under the dim light of the closet, it’s no different. You can feel the corners of her wry, delighted smile beginning to quirk as she steals those little shudders at the end of each exhale.

Maybe it’s the abundance of time you’ve had to become familiar with how Sakura can set the stage: 

The soft press of her mouth on yours, the speed of her kisses, those little licks, to that less-than-gentle pull at your bottom lip. It’s like she is everywhere, all at once - the warmth of her breath ghosting along the cartilage of your ear, the curve of your throat, her teeth hovering above where your pulse thrums and your skin runs thin.

Nevertheless, something quite new, a touch of novelty. This girl in black - built like a gazelle, all legs - who you think might quietly prefer to be addressed by her full name. Kazuha Nakamura, who would rather not make a fuss over the fact you forgot it the first twenty times or so - but she does have that look about her, that, if she asked you to, you could imagine dropping everything, anything, just to be at her beck and call.

That if she were in your shoes, you could imagine her wanting to do the same.

And then she asks for the most mundane thing.

Kazuha looks at you, not the way she looks at Sakura, but there is a stilled softness, a sweetness, that has her asking for permission - like she isn’t asking to do what she’s about to do - and when Sakura gives her a little tug at her skirt, Kazuha slides onto her knees.

“What did I tell you,” says Sakura, right into the angle at your jaw, pulling tighter on the end of your tie. She wraps it once over her wrist into something she can make a real grip out of. “The girl’s head over heels.”

A touch at your thighs, touches hooked into the seam of your pants and furling elastic - noticeably different from the hand kneading circles into the nape of your neck and carding through your hair. You laugh when you realize Kazuha has your fly undone and her shallow breath is hot against you, anticipating. Part of you is shocked, though another part equally thrilled. She’s actually going to do it.

Which, imagine that.

“And just what is it we’re doing here?” You lift your mouth off Sakura’s several times, chins brushing, colliding, kisses coming together and falling apart again. Your hold on Sakura’s waist firms up, steadying her as you try to reason with her. “What do you figure happens if we bring her home?” “Oh, I have no clue,” Sakura admits. “We’ll probably fuck her, and then fuck each other again when we she leaves.” “Hm,” you start, shakily, coping with the tongue that’s begun licking up from the base of your cock. It’s agonizingly slow - fuck, it’s only the seal of Kazuha’s pouty lips cushioning themselves around you. Which feel perfect, but only so perfect to the extent that it makes you want so much more. Sakura’s looking at you like she knows you’ll take it if you have to. Like she knows Kazuha will let you.

“Well.” You’re pushing some of the dark, glossy hair that had fallen in front of Kazuha’s face out of the way, and you start to posture, “I’m not about to start complaining, but-”

Sakura shoots only the slightest smirk in your direction. She’s got that usual unrepentant expression, eyes wide and brilliant, framed by those long eyelashes that happen to land more or less exactly on what you’d describe as your type.

“You have to see how this could backfire.”

She blinks once, twice, a few times, her expression remaining all but even, studying your face. “It’s not going to backfire.”

Your lips part to voice some final concern, but if that isn’t a ship long sailed. Here you’ll be marooned, shipwrecked - something you’ll have to come to terms with later - because you’re left only with siren calls: the soft sounds of Sakura’s lips smacking, of Kazuha’s; left with only a gaspful of air when she finally steals you into the wet heat of her pretty little mouth.

See, these hookups, your dalliances and escapades - the truth is that none of this really comes to you as a surprise anymore. Because if anything, Sakura has always had that tendency, a real proclivity for it. She was mischievous right from the jump, from when you first met her, and she’s only grown bolder. But the thing that you’re having to learn anew, beyond the way Sakura gets her mouth onto yours, how she’ll make a mess of your hair and leave marks on your neck, how her tongue glides effortlessly past your teeth, is with a second set of lips - that blowjob Kazuha is now settling into, mouth inching further and further down your cock - there’s suddenly a little less surefire to your wit, to your raillery.  

(Because here, you’d anticipated for impressive, perhaps even overwhelming, but with these two - well, there’s a lot to unpack. There always will be.)

The plan is - or at least it was -  to catch an Uber back to Sakura’s apartment. All three of you piling into the backseat, acting casual and pretending like you weren’t just trying to engineer how to share a kiss between three people. How’s that for logistics? Though that was moments before Sakura dropped a doting kiss into Kazuha’s hair and helped ease her down onto the carpet of the coat closet. And when you consider letting out the moan that festers in your chest, the one growing ever more unruly each time Kazuha’s tongue slowly curls around the head of your cock, you hesitate, swallowing down on nothing. 

“Fuck,” you say quietly into Sakura’s mouth. You’re not in public, technically speaking, which is not at all the reassurement Sakura insists it is. 

Sakura twists her fingers into your hair a little bit, just enough to sting, and asks, “does that feel good? Kazuha’s perfect mouth on your cock?”

“Yeah,” you admit, slightly annoyed - slightly under duress. The pressure of Sakura’s thumb a little harder into the soft muscle of your neck can usually coax out whatever it is she wants to hear. “Of course it feels good, Sakura.”

“I’m glad, it should.” Sakura nods. “And look, she’s just a natural, isn’t she?”

Oh, Kazuha - the poster child for a debate on innate talent and hard work, because as she works more of you into her mouth, you realize she’s both, a total package, an all in one. You’re not easy to take, and she presses her lips down, and draws you deeper like she’s done it a thousand times.

Though it pains you to ever admit Sakura’s right, about anything.

“How about we dial it back,” you say to Sakura, and for the first time, you look down at the mess of midnight hair in front of your waist. It’s glossy, even here in the dim glow of a dusty closet, and it’s just as silky to the touch. As you pilfer more of it through your fingers, you watch the glistening length of your cock vanish between the pouty pucker of Kazuha’s lips - bowed perfectly into this red elegant arch. 

“Are you sure? You seem like she’s just about killing you,” Sakura says. It’s the wince here and there. That slight quiver in your lip. All dead giveaways.

“Listen-” 

“Shh-shh,” Sakura soothes you gently, and starts to ease your jacket off your shoulders until it lands in a puddle of fabric at your feet. “Why don’t you just let her take care of you, huh?”

Sakura has her hand fit under your jaw again, urging you down to kiss her, but you’ve not quite finished taking in the sight of everything - of Kazuha, kneeling and bobbing her head back and forth - really settling into this hasty tempo. She takes more of your cock each time, and when you can feel her mouth tighten around you, to where her throat narrows and offers you a truly filthy sensation, you watch her eyes open, with lashes fluttering away stray tears and looking straight up at you. Pupils blown, dark as the dead of night, and every bit as sinful. It’s hard to even start to believe, that the girl who was paranoid a few weeks ago that she looked nothing like the fake ID Chaewon had given her is here on her fucking knees, slobbering on your cock.

“What’s the matter?” Sakura asks, pouting ever-so-slightly as she realizes you’re not going to lean into her again, and settles with a hot, open-mouthed kiss into the side of your neck.

“I don’t think it’s unreasonable,” you start, kind of sharply. It’s the way her black mini dress hugs her body - this masterwork of genetics, of countless hours in the gym, a miracle in the flesh. It’s the way one of its flimsy straps is falling down her shoulder and she’s so busy sucking your cock that she can’t be bothered to pull it back up. You don’t look away. You can’t. And jesus, your voice is coming out more broken, more graveled than you expect. “I should - if she’s going to swallow my cum, I think I should get to watch.”

“You hear that?” Sakura asks, and Kazuha chokes on you, just a little. There’s spit at the corner of her mouth when she pulls herself back, runs her tongue over the head of your cock, and tries again. Sakura’s laugh comes out rather amused. Her two favorite people in the world, finally getting what they deserve. “You’re so perfect, Kazuha, you’re going to make him cum.”

Kazuha lets you slip from her lips, and for the first time since she last said anything at all - muttering, please, please, I want to suck his cock - she pulls a stray hair out of her mouth, looks up at you and says: “On my face. I want it on my face.”

“Jesus,” you murmur, gripping Sakura’s waist harder into you. A sort of reflexive response. Because, fuck, if that isn’t well within your wheelhouse. If she’s asking - if you can oblige -

Kazuha lifts her gaze toward Sakura, eyes beaming. “Can I? With your boyfriend’s cock?”

“Kazuha, sweetie, he’s not my boyfriend.” And you can almost hear Kazuha trying not to roll her eyes. It’s just not a technicality she’s ever been interested in - you’re not taken, but you’re definitely not single, and that’s the part that’s only ever mattered to her. Sakura lets her hand fall to the base of your cock, angles it up for Kazuha to instinctively start licking its sensitive underbelly, fingers threading through your balls and fuck, the little kisses she saves for those are going to fucking end you. “You have to ask him.”

Kazuha’s got her brown, bambi eyes fixed back on you when she does. And it’s just a litany of nonsense, as she tries to look you square on, asking you politely to cum on her face. "Please, can I have it? Please, please. Cum on my face. Cum on my pretty face. I want it so bad, please. Please, I need it."

She’s a self-starter at some things, but the profanity, the dirty talk, these simple methods of seduction, you’ll ease her into them. You figure you’ll ease her into a lot.

Because you’re taking note of how her soft lips pucker as you cup her face. Fucking hell, she’s breathtaking.

“I’ll try not to get it in your hair,” you tell her. In a tone that makes it feel like a compromise. Something just shy of completely corrupting, though heavens knows you want to. This want - to get your hands in her hair later, bordering on something near abusive - otherwise, it comes across as this gentle dominance radiant with authority. Something she quickly melts into, eyes twinkling up at you, and you can’t resist digging a little deeper, asking, “that always been a fantasy of yours, sweetheart?” 

“She watches porn with Yunjin.” Sakura leans into your ear. “Like, a lot.” Like, it’s borderline concerning, she explains.

The shade of crimson burning across the bridge of Kazuha’s nose is as beautiful as she is, and you’re piecing together some of the puzzle. “I see,” you say, more serious. 

For the girl who Sakura described as naive but enthusiastic, you’ve become rather lost, maybe a little too quickly, somewhere deep in the pull of it. Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quicker, painfully slow. The draw of Kazuha’s soft lips back and forth along your cock. Every now and again, you can feel her tease the head of your cock against the back of her throat, just short of dragging you past her palate and holding her nose nearly flush to your groin. 

She pumps a fist around your shaft harshly, delivering an indiscriminate pleasure. You can hear her steady her breath, and almost without missing a beat, she lets her spit drool onto your cock and familiarize itself with her fingers, corkscrewing around you faster. Tighter. 

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Sakura starts hot and close, breath fanning over your cheek, and yielding her idea a moment to the sound of Kazuha’s hand sliding up and down your shaft. It’s such a filthy noise, lathering spit and precum between her slender fingers, the obnoxious squelch of it when she grips firmer and starts to pump you in earnest.

“When we get home,” she continues, “I think you should get that dangerous mouth of yours-”

Okay, fuck. Fuck. You’re spitting the word out, groaning as your eyes snap shut - the moment Kazuha gets her lips back around you, hollows her cheeks, she inhales sharply.

“-oh?” Sakura teases, flirting her lips about the edge of your ear. Her breath is hot, close, closer. “Maybe your mouth isn’t the one I need to be worried about.”

In an instant, you’re nuzzled deep into Kazuha’s mouth, seeking damp, seeking heat. With the flat of her tongue, she has you reeling from base to tip, and oh, god, the teeth. Just the slightest, sharp scrape of her teeth as she works her mouth on you faster, sloppier - without caring for so much as a concern about the tears cornering in her long dark lashes, or the makeup smudging beneath her eyes. It’s electrifying, and it has you bucking forward into Kazuha’s little mouth, until you’re swallowed nearly in full.

But behind that, it’s silent. Behind the smacking sound of Sakura’s lips pulling harshly at yours, behind the half-chokes punctuating how hard Kazuha’s lips are trying, it’s just breaths. Sakura’s, relaxed. Kazuha’s, careful and measured. And yours, panting, desperate.

It didn’t matter what image Kazuha had in her head before, beyond the generic appeal of your smile or how you’d rub the back of your neck when you laughed, or the way your forearms looked when you rolled your sleeves up. The silence Sakura creates when she seals her mouth over yours, kisses drowning those slight shuddering whines, it reveals to Kazuha the more present truth: you’re not just perfect. No, you’re perfect for her, and with the right touches here - of which Sakura is eager to demonstrate - ever so wonderfully brittle.

“Mnpph.” Kazuha simply hums, sucks up and down, over and over. 

“Come on,” Sakura breathes against you, barely above a whisper, then says it once more as she twines her fingers with yours and makes silky knots of Kazuha’s hair for you to hold onto.

“Fuck her pretty mouth,” she tells you, and you do.

With two greedy handfuls of Kazuha’s hair, with Sakura’s hand sliding down the buttons at the front of your shirt until she’s replacing Kazuha’s at the base of your cock, you rock your hips forward, experimental. Kazuha makes a strained sound, but nothing like the protest you were listening for - and so you do it again.

And again.

It’s unreal how she doesn’t react at all, just splaying her fingers out along your thighs, ready to brace herself as your thrusts into her mouth start to quicken. Given how things started - coupled with the fact that she looks so satisfied and serene - she’s doing outstanding. And if the air dragging through your teeth isn’t enough to make that clear, Sakura’s sure to guarantee you’re all on the same page:

“Just like that,” she tells her. “You look so pretty taking his cock, love. You’re doing so good, keep going, just a little more, and he’s going to cum for you.” 

So then, there Kazuha is, bruising her knees and yielding her lips, her mouth, her throat to you - with the girl she idolizes giving her the praise she’s always craved, these sickly-sweet affirmations, a petal-blossom of assurances. They ignite something laid deep within her, something that makes her work that perfect mouth onto you just a little harder, a little deeper, a little more slacked.

She wants you to cum so badly. 

You can feel her tongue flatten again, and without hesitation, while you fuck unabashedly between her wet, messy lips, she delves, she massages, she laves. 

For god’s sake, she worships.

Sakura is grinning, because she knows. She can feel the familiar way you’ve begun to throb, how the pulse in your neck is racing and blotchy and hot - she recognizes instinctually that all the damage your teeth have now done to your bottom lip could only mean one thing - you’re spiraling. You’re cracking under pressure, and so, so quickly. And then, nonchalant as ever, she just teases, “going to cum?”

You laugh, dryly. You are. You’re forcing the mundane into your thoughts: rainwater sliding down a pane glass window, paint swatches, the sound of your alarm clock, ringing, ringing, sucking - slurping, choking and spitting and gagging and fuck, Kazuha’s making a god damn meal out of you. You’ll let her.

“I’m pretty fucking close,” you finally admit to Sakura, holding Kazuha’s face firm. It’s not a warning. It’s an admission of guilt: you’re fucking ruining her makeup. There’s mascara dark as india ink, as dark as her jet black hair, streaking down her cheeks, and you’re imagining her glassy, tear-filled eyes, the ones that are currently screwed shut, impossibly tight. But she doesn’t wince, she doesn’t whine - and aside from the choking sound her throat makes when your cockhead stains pre-cum onto the back of her throat - she keeps her lips sealed tight, totally demure. Perfectly submissive.

“In her mouth,” Sakura orders dryly. 

You still can’t look away from the place where you and Kazuha are joined together, cum and spit and lipstick clinging to your shaft, her mouth, her chin. You’re simply stuck imagining the amusement stretching across Sakura’s face when she tells you again, voice resolute - fuck your load into her mouth.

It’s nothing that might ever take a lot of convincing, but you’re being gracious, being polite, trying to take Kazuha’s side. “We both heard her. She said she wanted-”

“Unh-uh, no,” Sakura tuts, rubbing a knuckle into the base of your spine. “Not here, you can make whatever mess you want when we get home.”

You thrust again, loosening one grip, tightening another. Vaulting toward the edge.

A mess, mess, mess, mess; a proper one, of her, crying and clamoring, shaking and stuttering, you know we will, you know it’s what she wants, Sakura’s explaining. Trying to explain. Fuck, it’s hard to pay attention to anything beyond your cock sheathed deep in Kazuha’s throat, but Sakura’s voice carries that usual gentle quiver, like she isn’t describing the filthiest assortment of ways you’ll get Kazuha off, how you’ll both get off. Going to fucking take her apart - she’s murmuring, kissing into your neck - until she’s sobbing for it. 

It’s not difficult to imagine. There are these images taking shape in your mind’s eye, photographically vivid, near pornographic, and god, Kazuha’s body is magnificent: how it curves, how it flexes, how it bends. You’re so close to unloading in her throat when you can practically hear Sakura’s posh, practiced smile flirting her voice into your ear. “If you’re worried she won’t swallow it, I will.”

For once, you don’t manage to say, no, not yet.

“Mnnph.” Kazuha strains, sinking deeper into the floor, hands falling to her knees. Nothing short of full surrender.

And it’s all over in a flash, before you can even register it.

Though in fact, you’ve seen it. You know it. There’s the warmth, the wet, the tightness of the seal that Kazuha makes around your cock, and the way she just fucking stays there, her mouth unmoving as you spill down the back of her throat. You try to catch yourself on the doorframe, and there are a thousand and one things you want to say to her - tell her, ask her, beg her, please, sweetheart, please, fuck, fuck, baby, I can't-

But you don't.

Instead, your teeth are grit and your jaw is tense and your hand is knotted into a fistful of her hair and you can hear yourself barely manage to get out each sinful consonant: “I'm cumming,” and then nothing else.

In the silence, you can see the lumps roll down the column of her throat, of her swallowing, and it doesn’t end. It doesn’t stop. Kazuha’s lips stayed locked around you, and she sucks, she swallows, and sucks and sucks. Like she doesn’t even know you’re reeling.

“Oh…” Sakura says, over a tiny laugh, the kind that’s dripping with mirth. She traces a line with her finger, from your jaw over your chest and down to your hip.

Realistically, the relatively innocent touch shouldn’t make you crazier than her hand gently wringing out your cock, or the way Kazuha’s chest rises and falls with a heavy, satisfied breath, or -

The look she has, staring up at you with her heavy-lidded, sated eyes:

It’s the sort of look that’ll be stitched into your thoughts and haunt your dreams for months.

(It’s the sort of look that leaves an impression, one that cuts deep and engraves:

Adoration. Arousal. Awe.)

Sakura starts to pull her fingers through Kazuha’s hair, smoothing down the parts that were mussed, and she leans down, planting a kiss at her temple. And then another. And another. She whispers something into her ear - a request, a command - something more, until Kazuha finally lets you slip from her mouth.

It’s a disaster.

There’s a translucent thread of spit hanging from her chin, and her tongue runs a semi-circle over her lower lip to collect the last bits of cum clinging to her skin. It should be criminal, how she looks up at you through those long eyelashes, a mess of black makeup and glassy eyes; how her cheeks are rosy, and her lips swollen and parted.

How she can smile through it all and still manage to look like this is what she was made to do. Like she can go a second round, like she could go several - you can practically hear her saying it: let me get your cock back in my mouth. I can do better. I can be better.

But she never gets the opportunity. You crack the veneer of that unearthly silence first.

"Sakura."

"Yeah?"

"I have a question," you say steadily, and Kazuha makes a wounded expression as you pull up the zipper on your pants.

"What's that?" Sakura asks.

“How close is that car?”

“Should we wait outside?” Kazuha starts to say, but it's a garbled mess. She’s still wiping her lips when Sakura reaches into her clutch and pulls out her phone. There's the saliva, the spit, the cum. You can't help but think you've ruined her voice. That it might not sound the same, even a week from now.

“Yeah.” Sakura brings her fingers to Kazuha's chin, tilts it up towards her, and then she kisses her. “We probably should.”

-

This is where it gets kind of complicated, because you know Sakura, know her better than most. 

She’d been enrolled in one of your elective courses way back when. Had been the kind of girl that immediately stood out, the kind that left a mark. You were likely the more studious one, by comparison. Grounded. Whereas she had her dreams, a dream of a life, a dream of the world - and the two of you just had this way of keeping each other level-headed. When you think back to it, and for as long as you can remember: it was one, the other, a constant pendulum, always swinging back. You know what keeps her steady, what makes her tick, and she knows you just as well.

Though about this thing you share, the thread between you, it’s not something you pretend to understand.

"Maybe we could define it," you suggested, once.

"No." That was her answer. "I don't know. We're just doing what we do, right? We're just having fun."

"Okay, sure," you said. "I get it. But you know how these things are. They’ve got a tendency to go belly up."

“Oh absolutely,” she remarked, casually, leading you to believe that she both understood the peril and was somehow totally unfussed by it - she probably always had the upper hand. See, she’s gorgeous, but also there’s just that pinch of cute in the mix that makes you believe she’d never hurt you. Makes you believe that she never could. 

And that was before it metastasized into where you’re at now: 

She’s got a toothbrush on your bathroom counter. There’s a pair of shoes too, at the front door. Shirts in your closet, a jacket of hers that’s managed to claim its own hook. She’ll throw her underwear into your wash while you’re measuring detergent and give you these gentle eyes that make all these silent demands, look the other way, please, just ignore me.

There’s the coffee already in the brewer, light roast, the one she likes. There’s her side of the bed, it’s neatly made. Always. She's neat like that. And it’s all a bit much, if you’re being honest.

Because, yeah, it's not exactly conventional. What the two of you are doing is this total, unmitigated disaster. 

So the fact that Sakura wanted to invite Kazuha out -

The fact that Kazuha actually showed up -

The fact that Sakura is now helping her out of her dress in the entryway of her apartment and is kissing her neck and her shoulders and telling her, sweetie, come on, let’s go, let's get you in the shower -

Yeah, this is the part that is sort of fucking complicated.

It's a lot, even for someone like you.

- So - of fucking course it backfires.

You’re hesitant to say I told you so, but Sakura can read the sentiment right off your face. You don’t need to say anything.

Though that’s a realization that only catches up with you once a week goes by and the progress you’ve made in regards to the whole Kazuha situation is categorically negative.

Because, here it is: her lipgloss on the rim of your water glass.

The lid of her moisturizer sitting on the kitchen counter.

According to Sakura, it’s not supposed to go like this, though a lot of people, if asked, would suggest you should probably not be playing with this girl’s heart in the first place, and then there’s the issue that yours is starting to look more and more precarious, like a house of cards. Forget it, they’d probably suggest - move on, be done with it. You haven’t thought so far, in days, hell, even hours, to decide that it might be good for you. You’re usually rather decisive. But, Kazuha? Yeah. Deciding to not think about her was never going to happen.

In the sense, anyway, when the surprise cold of a winter-in-spring day still has you wearing your sandals where there's a blizzard - memorable in how there are flecks of melting white everywhere, like frozen lace, and a sensation lingering at the tip of your fingers, numb and insensate, which -

Or maybe the same is true of frostbite - or, better, hollowness: how it lingers and persists, that faint sting.

"Kazuha." You sigh, closing a book shut. It falls onto the coffee table and slides to rest, and there’s more: her perfume bottle on the side table, the socks on the couch, her favorite shirt balled into the crease of the cushions, and the sweater that she’s apparently keeping draped over one of the kitchen chairs.

You think you’re starting to understand her perspective, if at least a little.

-

It’s only a handful of days later, when Sakura wakes up to a long, bumbling text from Kazuha. She’s still in bed, holding the edge of your comforter up over her breasts like you haven’t seen her naked a million times before, and she’s twisting her lips, tapping away at her phone screen. 

The text is long, you realize as Sakura’s reading it out to you. 

Its message is a bit disjointed but legible nonetheless, more or less asking, hey, can i come over?

-

Hand to god, this was never about the fucking. Well, not exactly.

The truth is you really did want to get to know Kazuha - in whatever ways, under any circumstances - in a less...messy setting.

Not just to get her off, or to hear her make sounds she never even knew she was capable of; to have the luxury of seeing how she lets a stray moan echo in the back of her throat when she tries not to get too carried away; how she bites at the raw cushion of her cheek when Sakura works a hand beneath her shorts - like she's always desperate to shut herself up, lest someone call her out on it - because, the whole point to this, it's never really been about the fucking.

But, never you - and certainly never Sakura - were going to be able to keep your hands off her.

It isn’t totally your fault either. It can’t be. Kazuha’s at your front door, and she’s wearing the smallest dress imaginable. The tiny little piece barely qualifies as a sundress, and she knows it. Some sort of pattern recognition - she’s putting two and two together - the type of bodice that clings tightly to the gentlest curve of her chest, the skirt hem that stops right at the tops of her thighs, and you think, fuck, she’s just too damn beautiful for her own good.

Then it’s the other thing: she’s so nervous that her hand is nearly trembling around the strap of the duffel bag slung over her shoulder. It's not your fault she's so pretty. So shy. So easy.

The moment she steps inside, you can see it in her face, that same neediness, the same hunger from yesterday, the day before, from last week - at the bar, when she was kneeling in front of your cock, looking at you like you’d just offered her the world.

(And in so many ways, you did.)

“An overnight bag?” Sakura sounds moderately amused. "Correct me if I’m wrong Kazuha, but I thought you said you just needed to drop by," she continues, not in any grandstanding manner - just factually, straightforward. "How long are you planning on staying?"

You watch her bite her lip, and you’re trying not to react, but there’s a noticeable twitch in your brow. You start by puzzling out the weight of the duffel bag as you help it off her shoulder. “Feels like a couple of nights."

Kazuha nods, sheepishly. “Yeah.”

And she should be ashamed, you think. She knows exactly what she's doing, probably wearing those little lace panties if you had to guess - or maybe nothing at all - the pair of black heels, and her hair is down and wavy, and her lips are full and painted pink, and she smells like the best kind of trouble, and if she isn’t trying to get fucked -

"I'm sure we can figure something out," you tell her.

She smiles at you, and there's that fluttery, flirty kind of a gesture, the kind of coy, coy shyness that could just make anyone's heart swell.

"Want to help me find a spot for this in the bedroom?" you ask.

She nods again, and the blush coloring her cheeks is this soft, subtle shade of crimson.

"Yeah," she breathes, "yes, please."

-

Let the record show, Sakura kisses her first.

You watch her hands thread into the silkiness of Kazuha's hair, the way they firm up and hold her steady, how she draws her body into her own. It's the kind of kiss you see in a movie, the one that should happen in a rainstorm, with an orchestra swelling, the camera panning, a fade-to-black. You're watching the way their lips meet, how she holds Kazuha close, the ease in her shoulders when she feels Sakura smile against her. How it all just seems to click.

It's the sort of thing where you could watch forever.

And, honestly, Sakura is gentle with her - maybe as an overcompensation, a correction for the fact that she’ll get her mouth between her legs later and make her scream - but here she is, tender, warm, touching her delicately like otherwise she might break. The same as she was in the backseat of the car, the first time, the same every time after that. But she doesn't let the opportunity slip through her fingers either. Kazuha's body ends up pressed back into the mattress, and the sound of her breathing is slightly haggard, just like the rise and fall of her chest, as Sakura's pulling up the hem of her dress.

“Hey,” Sakura starts, with a kiss at the corner of Kazuha’s mouth, and then the other. And then a few more, until Kazuha is blushing, smiling, and she asks her, "do you want this off?"

Kazuha sits up and leans into her, and they both laugh softly, because, god, Sakura is fumbling with the zipper on the back of her dress. She tells her to hold still, and gets it down in a second. It's just the slightest sound - a little shuffle, the swish of fabric pooling on the floor, and then Kazuha is in nothing but a set of lingerie, the heels that make her legs look so long you start to ache, and and with only a moment’s hesitation, the two of them are kissing again.

"Kazuha…" she says, "you know, I didn't take you for someone who owned lingerie. This is nice."

And it is.

There's the dainty fabric hugging Kazuha's body, the way her chest looks, the bra, the lace, how her nipples are just barely peeking through the thin material, and how she's just letting her fingers trail along the top of her panties, this tiny triangle of satin and lace.

"What," Kazuha says, "you don't think it's me?"

"It's very cute," Sakura agrees, running her thumb over Kazuha's lower lip, and as you settle in next to her, skirting touches first at her bare knee, tracing up to where her skin is softest on her thighs, she adds, “but you don’t need to dress up for him.”

"I don't mind," you murmur through busy lips - dragging kisses up her leg. "I think it’s hot."

"Then I suppose she should keep the shoes on," Sakura suggests and lifts her own shirt over her head, heaping it somewhere near the laundry bin. Her hands come up to her tits, holding them in place, and as she lets go - lets them bounce back into place - the smile she gives Kazuha’s is so, so soft. 

This genuine flash of affection.

You get lost in them both a little. For a minute. Two. The three you all tangled up, bodies folded into one, arms coiled over each other, lips crushed, until finally, there is a need.

Something frantic, burning, clawing. Something insurmountable.

Kissing and kissing.

And kissing - and kissing - and -

Then you’re kneeling at the side of the bed, between Kazuha’s legs, sucking at her hip. Her skin. Pressing your mouth to every place it can reach. Up and down her thighs - running hot over the stitches and marks and stains from where your lips have dragged, peppered, blotched and bruised. Where you will, more.

In the past week, this image has hardly left your mind, sticky and unmoving. Kazuha in your bed, on your sofa, in the bath, over the cool countertop of the kitchen island - wanting to be touched, wanting to be used - chasing every possible high - you had her begging to cum on your fingers, on your mouth, on your cock. In every possible way.

That probably should have been enough. 

But after Sakura strips down to nothing, wrestling her feet from her shorts, panties hanging loose from the edge of her ankle, she mounts Kazuha, straddling her waist, bringing her hips right atop hers - rolling them down, further, inching closer and closer -

It isn’t. Oh, it isn’t, it won’t be. It never would be.

“How many times are we going to make you cum,” Sakura wonders aloud, a single finger making a slow circle around the outline of Kazuha's bra. "Huh. Two?" She’s smirking now, you can hear it. "Three? I could probably convince him to go for four."

Sakura kisses hard into her neck, and it’s reflex that sends Kazuha spinning, coiling - closing her legs around you. Or at least she attempts to, but you get your hand slipped between her thighs first, and you’re leaning forward, leaning in, pressing these tantalizing kisses to the side of her knee, drawing your thumb under the arch of her foot. You can just see it, the dark blush she's starting to get between her legs: this lovely, sweet, rose-colored flush. Radiant with heat, with want, with need.

You could have your way with the two of them, you realize, take and take and take; they could put on a show, all for you. And it's not just about the pretty picture they make in bed together, Sakura and Kazuha, who are both the type to belong on covers of magazines, on billboards. Sakura's a deceptive panoply of curves, and Kazuha’s all toned muscle - her built-like-a-trackstar physique looking amazing above you, underneath you, on all fours -

But Sakura, well. There are those things that get her going.

You slide your thumb across her pussy, and you can hear the moment her breath catches, somewhere downstream of all those sweet nothings she’s saving for Kazuha, the kisses into her jaw, her neck, crashing fast against her lips. Those nothings, filthy and sweet, obscene and tender.

“Fuck, Kazuha, I didn’t realize how bad I needed this,” Sakura is saying, telling her. Promising. Her hand is brushing through her hair, making sure she doesn’t flinch away, and god, they’re so close. Sakura’s toned stomach at the dip of Kazuha’s ribcage, laid flat - the way Sakura’s breasts press into Kazuha’s chest has them spilling out ever so slightly at the sides, and Kazuha has her hands all over the ridges of Sakura’s back, dug tight into her shoulders. 

“He’s going to fuck us again. Until we can’t take it anymore,” she adds, almost reverent, and you are, you will, your fingers catch the elastic of Kazuha’s panties, drag them to the crease of her thigh and -

It’s fucking perfect, how they’re both so impossibly wet. 

Sakura turns back to give you one last look. She tends to be bossy, she likes to feel like she’s in control, and maybe that’s why she can’t get over how Kazuha melts beneath her, but it’s not enough. She’s snapping at you, “I need you to eat me out. Right now.”

You arch an eyebrow, acting surprised. “Right now?”

“Right now,” she repeats, shifting her hips pointedly.

“This very second?” You’re teasing, you’re a little irritating when you want to be, you’re well, you’re a lot of things, but you’re also working at the button of your pants, rubbing a thumb over the fabric of your underwear where it’s stiffening, tightening, all at the sight of these two in front of you.

“I swear to god,” she practically growls at you, the sound catching in her throat.

“So demanding.” You laugh. You have to. And your breath fans right over the folds of her pussy. She hates that. She loves that.

“If you don’t start now-”

But the thought never finishes.

Because you're leaning forward, and your hands are gripping tight, pulling you into her, and -

Fuck, it's not fair, she tastes fucking fantastic. With your mouth at Sakura’s pussy, licking past her heat, she spreads her knees just a little further apart. 

Then there’s your hand, ghosting across where Kazuha needs you most, and you let the pad of your index finger roll, circle, drag and drift everywhere else. She shudders, gasping into Sakura’s mouth; you lick up, tongue through the perfect squeeze of Sakura’s lips - perniciously lapping, licking - and she’s returning to Kazuha the very same.

It's indulgent. Not that you hadn’t known it would be.

But Sakura - god, she grinds her hips down, down, down, against you, against Kazuha, and you can just hear the pair of them kissing. It’s messy, hard, hungry. There’s wet sounds, sloppy ones, and tongues, lips, teeth - Kazuha is moaning, Sakura is sighing - fuck, you could settle in here, like this, for days.

Because here’s the first truth: you’re an expert at eating Sakura out. Possibly the best.

You’re not being boastful here, it's just a fact. You know how she tastes, how to get her off - and Kazuha learns this firsthand.

And just like that, the best part about it is, when you flick your tongue flat against Sakura's clit, when she breaks her kiss enough to spit out some curse or another, Kazuha can feel it.

When you push two fingers into Kazuha - deep into her - curl them, massage, crook, tug -

Well, Kazuha can feel that too. Made certain by the way she croons into Sakura, how she holds on tight, grips hard. How Sakura does the same, rolls her hips - there’s so much to digest, just in how Kazuha breathes out your name, and by the way Sakura sighs, by the way she chokes back these whiny, winded moans. You’re afraid to miss any of it. Any single second.

And so it goes like this: your tongue working Sakura over; Kazuha writhing on your fingers; her hips shifting, squirming; Sakura rocking herself back onto your face, onto Kazuha’s cunt, onto the sharp edge of her hips - all while you’re sucking and kissing and licking - until you have one dripping down your chin. The other ruining the sheets.

Until you have Sakura practically unraveled, frayed and falling apart, that thread nearly unwound from its spool, messy and inarticulate.

Until you have Kazuha whimpering, and Sakura’s voice hushed into a whisper, speaking these words you can barely make out: 

“You’re doing perfect, Kazuha, baby, keeping your legs open for him, for me, for us-” 

It’s just the right amount of praise, of adoration, all of it cracking, splintering, breaking apart - Kazuha laboriously tries to kiss her quiet, breathing her in - and when you use the hand that isn’t mercilessly fucking two, three fingers into Kazuha’s little cunt to grab at that perfectly-sculpted ass, Sakura starts to lose it. She falls apart.

Loudly. 

“Oh god,” she sputters, again, and again, and again. Because you grab more. A handful. Your entire fist. Spreading Sakura open so that your tongue can reach further, licking in, in, in.  It starts at her thighs, a tremble, this quaking - Kazuha not far behind her: swallowing these desperate, useless sounds, gulping down air like it’s in short supply.

The room is filled, flooded, drowning, with just their voices, the pair of them moaning nearly in tandem. With the sound of your fingers fluttering, blurring, making the wettest mess between Kazuha’s legs.

Until -

Sakura cums first. And she cums hard. 

It crashes over her like the kind of thing you read about in a magazine: a flash, a spark, an explosion. It rolls up through her spine, over her ribs. You can hear her try to catch her breath and come up short, Kazuha drinking every ounce of it. How she collapses, folding - Sakura resting her face in the crook of Kazuha’s shoulder; your tongue doesn’t stop. 

Sakura doesn't ask it to, she can’t. And you keep on, keep going, making her cum and cum and cum. There’s something so satisfying about it, so inexplicably filthy - you, with Sakura’s cum all over your mouth, and Kazuha, this hot, wet flustering tangle of limbs. When you finally rise to your feet, you can tell she’s so near her own finish that the tension in her muscles is winding up, running hot over the skin of her neck. She looks so good getting fucked like this.

"Fuck," Kazuha's sighing, panting. "I can't, I need-"

Her hands are everywhere: up in her hair, down her neck, gripping the sheets, fisting at the bedspread. If it wasn’t for how Sakura had crumpled into a heap on top of her, mewling softly into her shoulder, she’d be rubbing fast circles at her own clit. 

"You want my cock," you ask her - well it’s not really all that much of question, but the look on her face tells you, yes, yes, fuck, yes.

You say it to her, and Sakura says it too, with a kiss at the side of her jaw. So good, look at you - she’s murmuring, not even coherent - so fucking good.

“Here, Kazuha, just hold on for me,” you tell her, stepping out of your shorts, and, to be honest, you’ve never seen anything so desperate. So ragged and needy. It inspires the worst kind of half-truths, these wicked assurances that slip from your lips as your palm drags the length of your cock. I’ll be good, I’ll go slow, I’ll go easy, I’ll do anything for you - oh, she’s putty in your hands, and she’s not going to fuss over the technicalities; how you’re hooking under her thighs and sliding her forward on the mattress, settling her into that angle that’ll let you absolutely ruin her cunt. 

You could tease her - you have, and you would, in a second - but the fucking noise you earn out of her when draw the shape of your cock over her wet lips is like music: a broken moan, the kind you could bottle up, save forever, the kind that has you thinking aloud, “what a good little slut, Kazuha, fuck, aren’t you just perfect. I’m going to fuck your pussy now, okay?” 

And you mean it, when you say it, when you push your hips forward, when you watch her take it. There’s the head of your cock, the way her pristine little pussy seems to open - to suck you in.

“I need - you need to fuck me.” She's barely able to say your name, begging - please, need it, hurry - it’s like Kazuha’s ticking off, minutes to midnight, gasping out: "please, please, please."

You slip inside her. Even when you’ve come to expect it, you’re still left next to speechless, because, fuck - how she can stretch. 

It’s hot, it’s heaven, it’s hopeless, and as you sink further, bottoming out, there’s all this heat - the wetness - she had to have been just made just for you. Which is wild, you think, considering you’ve done nothing to deserve it, but her gorgeous little cunt is right there, quivering, hugging every inch of you while she throws her arms around Sakura’s neck. 

You start to pull back, and then, thrust, once, twice. Just to let her know, to feel how tight she is. 

“Shh,” Sakura’s soothing her and kissing her to silence as Kazuha holds on so, so tightly. You watch the pointed ends of Kazuha’s acrylics, faux set of french nails, dig deeper into Sakura’s shoulder blades, the fine edges of bones, the muscles and the tendons - it’s all so visceral, and so quickly - her eyes screw shut, and she’s biting the inside of her cheek so hard you can see the indent. Only letting it go when you snap your hips back into her, deeper, faster - (There's something almost instinctual about it, in all the most upsetting ways.

So, here’s your new angle: it’s not usually like you, or it shouldn’t be. With you fucking fast into her sopping cunt and making her sob with it, like you need her at the furthest point, you want it the tightest possible, when she has her ankles hooked together around your waist, until she’s crying and cock-addled, all fucked-out and satisfied - with a load of cum buried so deep in her, she’ll be thinking about it for weeks.)

Sakura lets the kiss go with a loud smack. And when she turns those brilliant eyes over her shoulder, she's got that dreamy, lop-sided kind of smile of a girl who'd just been sent to the moon and seen stars.

 "Okay, look," she chides, voice uneven, but entirely the usual sound. Her arm reaches back until her fingers splay out across your hip. “You’re going to break her in half, you know, if you fuck her like that-”

"No," Kazuha whispers. Or rather, chokes. "Harder," she’s urging you, wanting you, needing you. "Please. Don't stop."

Your pace has gone reckless, rough, relentless, but this isn’t even all on you. She’s shaking. The building, the crescendo, you’d already taken the time, with two fingers, taken more with three, slowly winding her clockwork tight, tighter, tightest - like she hasn't quite yet realized: you might never stop fucking her.

There aren’t words really, and there haven't been, it's nothing but nonsense. Guttural moans, high whines, your hips fuck into her and you’re choking off an expletive here, another there. But still, she’s an open book, and you’re reading every page. You know each of those transient thoughts in her head, every single word, even if she fails to give a voice to any of them.

Cumming - Kazuha’s trying to mouth out, the silent shape of each syllable falling off her lip - I’m going to fucking cum. And you see - 

she is,

so fucked.

It just hits her: suddenly, impossibly fast, rolling her in like a tide.

Sakura is there to hold her down as she washes up. She gives her succor, she tells her not to worry, whispering this gentle hush, hush, shh - pressing a kiss to the side of her cheek as your cock dives deep and makes an audible mess of her pussy. Makes a mess of the blankets, the bedding, and you think, if she’ll be here all weekend, you’ll be in and out of the laundry, load after load. 

“I’d be willing to bet you'd take anything he gave you,” Sakura says. She’s laughing, recovered mostly, and somewhere in the doting affection and tenderness is the indistinct bite of a sneer. “Wouldn't you, you little, little fucktoy. Look how good your cunt stretches for him, for his big cock. You’re just so easy, aren’t you? Oh, Kazu, you are just so - so good for us."

Kazuha’s gasping in incoherence. "I can't - oh god, I can't - please, please-"

In the moments before, it's like every toned muscle, every taut nerve in her body had braced against one another. She takes your cock like the perfect little thing she is, and then - the twinge, the twist, the fucking release - it’s too much. She can barely make a noise out of that pretty mouth of hers, wrenched open in delighted agony, but her body is screaming. 

Here you could spill into her in a fucking heartbeat, so it feels almost wrong when you pull yourself from her cunt, teetering there instead. 

“Kazuha,” you say, slapping your cockhead against her sore clit, and it’s so sensitive that it makes her keen. “Do you think you can take it, if I fuck your cunt a few more times. Is that what you need? This pretty thing full of cum?"

It’s cute, her commitment to the bit - the bashful, the blushing, the biting into the edge of her hand. You can’t help but find the kind of innocence in direct contradiction to the sight of her: legs thrown wide, cunt absolutely fucked raw and dripping, painted in the glow of an orgasm that ripped her voice to shreds.

“Nope. Sorry sweetheart. Too slow.” Sakura’s lifting herself, shifting her hips, and she quickly has a hand reaching back to your cock. Her slender fingers encircling your shaft. Holding it, stroking it.

Like it needs any help.

"Do you have even the slightest idea?" she continues, talking out both sides of her mouth - this time at you. “How fucked you both are? I don’t think she’s going to let you off the hook until she’s got your cum inside her.” Kazuha whimpers into her hand, merely at the thought. “It’s a little cruel I imagine, to keep her waiting too long, but trust me: when we’re finished, I’m going to ride your cock - not going to stop until you fucking cum again, and then maybe, Kazuha should too.”

Probably by virtue of proximity and time, you know Sakura could go on like that forever, and it's true: when the moment is right, she's going to take what she wants, going to slide herself onto your cock like it’s hers. Right after you let Kazuha sit on your face - letting her rub herself off, however she likes it - then maybe even have her mouth. Your cock between her lips, watching those pouty things flush hard all over again.

The throuple, the three of you, this plurality you’re still not entirely sure you’re used to - not so sure you should be getting used to - there's time you figure, for Kazuha. There has to be. And Sakura again after.

But in terms of the here and now, you’ve got a set fingerprints burning into Sakura’s impossibly narrow waist, a fist around your cock, brushing Kazuha’s slick right into the wet between her lips - just a matter of alignment - and - and -

“I don’t think you should be drawing this out.” A course correction. Sakura slides lower, hips up higher, proffering, and she’s drawing back at the soft, supple skin across her thigh, letting you take her all in. Her face is flush against Kazuha’s, combing a finger through her hair, telling both of you, “our little girl looks like she can’t wait another second.”

"Hm," you're starting to say. “I suppose you’re right.” The least you could do was add the one-two of another suggestion, but then your cock is lined up perfectly with the tight muscle of her ass, and, well.

It’s like you said, you know Sakura.

There’s a sharp draw of air sucked in through her teeth as you get her started. And fuck, she’s tight, so delectably tight - with each bit, the barest touch of your tip at her rim at first, before your hand finds leverage in the curve of her back, easing her onto your cock like she’s some obscene piece of artwork. 

Even then, getting slowly fucked open, she has the capacity for these thinly veiled barbs: 

“This, Kazuha, like this - that’s the way you deserve to get fucked. Your perfect little cunt, your ass-”

You should probably be familiar with it, about how she is always, always plotting, always scheming - in control of things that should be well beyond her grasp - this is all on her own.

So as your cock stretches, inches, spreads her out - it isn't at your mercy. Though not quite at hers, either.

“Oh, fuck,” You have to steady a breath, because it feels better on you, you think, it must. Because Sakura has you squeezing past the ring, and oh, you can only imagine how it feels on her, taking it inch by inch. How full Kazuha would feel. God, imagine what you could do with a girl like her, it would ruin her. Ruin her in the best way. 

“Sakura,” Kazuha says, faintly.

You can hear Sakura biting down on nothing when she answers, “Kazu, yeah.”

“Is he… are you...”

Her sentence never really finishes. Kazuha’s holding onto Sakura with both hands, one under her jaw, another in her hair. Her eyes are trailing along, studying the serene lines of her face, how they wobble ever-so-slightly when you pull your hips back and sink into Sakura’s ass again. And again. Until you can tell your cock is starting to settle, to hit this particular angle, that perfect sort of spot - that makes her body start to grow soft, shiver, and spill over.

Sakura tries to shake the hair out from in front of her face, and you get to watch Kazuha. Watch as she delicately brushes it back behind her ears, and they lean in. They kiss. And it's nothing like before.

“Words, sweetie,” Sakura tells her, hot against her lips, “say what you want to say.” Kazuha bites at her lip, and when Sakura draws her into another kiss - an open-mouthed one, a long, lingering one - their tongues push together, meet together, dance together, the words leaving her throat with hardly any sound at all: 

“I want, him, I want - to be fucked, I want him - I want…”

Sakura interrupts her, and in the exact same lilting cadence, that same smug tone, she says, “you want him to fuck your ass, Kazuha, right baby?” Kazuha starts to blush profuse - bright pink up the sides of her neck and in her chest, this roseate smolder seared into her cheeks. Some part of you is disappointed she can’t see the whole picture, because for you, it’s all in frame: you spread a hand across the full round of Sakura's ass, squeezing as you pull out, sliding it along to press your thumb into the base of her spine as you push yourself inside her again. “Come on, of course you do,” she goads, the obvious edge in her voice looking for a reaction. And she can have an audible one from you, because Sakura looks like an absolute dream, the outline of her back flexing, muscles moving like machinery under her skin. Her legs strain against the mattress as she starts to fuck back. Taking control of it, of you, of her. You know her game, you’ll play along.

Your gaze flickers, first to Kazuha, back to where your cock is fucking Sakura open. Until it vanishes in between those two faultless curves. Buried to its base. Until the rhythm gets there. Until it takes you. There are certain things that, at this stage, are just inevitable - this momentum, or call it the weight of desire - and suddenly, Sakura’s fingers wind tightly around one of your wrists, guiding you, trying to show you: deeper is good, harder, more, rough, rougher - trying to tell you to wrap her up and fuck her - truly fuck her. “With this beautiful fucking cock?” Sakura is saying, somehow unrushed and harried at the same time, in her half-there, half-catching-her-breath kind of way. “Oh Kazuha, you just want to be an awful mess - an utter fucked-out mess. Under him and on him and filled; tell me it isn’t that you want your perfect asshole getting fucked raw and hard by his big thick dick-” As she sinks down onto your length, leaning backwards - which, god, she's probably fucking gaping - you bring an open palm down hard onto the taut, creamy skin of her bare ass, and she yelps. “Maybe we should just show her.” You pull Sakura's little frame up into you so you can say it right into the shell of her ear, and your thumb smooths a line from the bony edge of her hip, up to her navel, with your fingers splayed out over the concave flatness of her tummy. “It would be so much easier, for all of us.”

She squirms into your shoulder, agitated, but with another snap of your hips into her slick, puckered hole - with a satin-like kiss onto her lips - she bends to you, surrenders to you. She has to. Kazuha can’t look away. Pushing her fingers into her cunt. She’s watching you fuck Sakura and hold her tight. Watching closely how you’re going to take her apart. The way it all comes down, the beginning of the end, it starts with a kiss. Another.

A series of them, quick. Crushing your mouth onto hers. Sakura hums this meek sound into your mouth the moment your hands are up on her perfect tits, cupping them, squeezing, kneading, listening to her pitchy little whines when you roll your fingers around her nipples. 

Kazuha. Sakura.

Circling fingers, mussed up hair.

Folded knees, rippling skin.

There's no shortage of imagery for either one.

Lewdness, vulgarity, the truly depraved - the dark places the brain goes, the deepest recesses: the buried fantasies. You are fucking her harder and harder and faster and faster and - god, Sakura loves it, she wants it, her tiny body clinging to you - pulling you back every time your cock threatens to drag free from the confines of her tight ass - pulling you back every time your mouth leaves a spot, a smear, an unbearable, unendurable mark into the line of her shoulder. “Please, you need, it's, god, it's just, you feel so perfect,” is what you’re shaking out of her, broken, breathy. 

The screws of the bed are just about wailing with it, her chest is in full motion, the picture perfect arch of her neck is red, pink, raw. And how her skin glows, you have no idea, but her eyelids are fluttering open, closed. Open, closed - all the while using the hand that isn’t pinned behind her back to tease at her swollen little clit. “Oh,” you say, grinning, “what happened to using my fucking cock for exactly what I'm made for, hmm?”

"Don't - don’t get all funny," she huffs at you, face too stricken with your cock throbbing in her asshole to scowl. Then her body relaxes, and it seems to work. That, and the quick circles she's rubbing over her cunt, the one soaking down onto Kazuha’s legs, into the mattress, the sheets, everything. You fuck her harder. She rolls her shoulders back. And somewhere beneath, lost in the fold of the sheets, the pooling sweat, there's something so unguarded - this sick little voice in the back of your thoughts, thinking - mine, mine, mine, mine - and it’s so incredibly territorial. It doesn’t get any quieter when you look down either; Kazuha’s eyes, heavy and hazy. They have to be. She has two fingers sunk inside her. And they look like they're doing the work for you, because it's like she's been waiting for ages, ever since you sank the length of your cock into Sakura's ass. She hasn't stopped rubbing figure-eights and circles over her cunt. She hasn’t stopped, and you don’t think she ever will. “Cum, please, I want you to cum,” Sakura is frantic at you, breathless, a little miserable, and you think you could, with your own hand and just from the way Kazuha is moaning and panting and getting herself off. "Just, fuck, get that cock in her, cum, fuck, don't-"

You could lose your mind here, and it's what they’d both want.

(That is, until Kazuha calls out: fuck me, please fuck me.)

Which makes you aware. Reminds you: not even yet - you’re fucking Sakura so hard, so fast, you’re ready to burst -

“Fuck,” you spit, with your cock sliding out of Sakura’s ass and watching her recoil. 

Actually, it’s almost too late. You’re almost too slow on the draw. And for a few seconds, all you have are your senses: there’s the wet, failing noise, your skin is fevering hot as liquid fire, and the smell, blossoming saccharine sweet, turgent like gasoline.

Actually, you can’t keep your eyes open, not for a moment. You’re cumming everywhere.

On the inside of Sakura’s thigh, into the bedding, and when you get your cock into your fist and point it at Kazuha’s cunt, you spill a puddle of cum right onto her puffy, reddened lips - pumping, jerking - there’s more on the flawless plane of her stomach, hot white streaks across her body like you’re debasing a masterwork, a canvas beholden to the perfected female form. Now tarnished, and sloppy and slutty -

But, you’re fucked. You’re spent. Kazuha sees the pale in your face. You can read the wordless worry there, but what she does with it is obscene.

Just the tips of two fingers, and she traces a line down from her chest, picks a lazy path through the splatter on her skin to rub it into her pretty, soaked pussy. You watch as she pushes it all in, like it could be - where it’s supposed to be - all filthy, the fucking definition.

There’s a listless groan, and a shake of Sakura’s head. She’s running her hand over her brow, through her messy fringe and flipping it away. “Jesus, Kazuha, gross, if you want it inside - put his cock in there, seriously. Go sit on it, ride him till he can't help himself.”

(Always the smooth-talker, Sakura.)

"Wait, wait," Kazuha says, scuffing her feet against the comforter, knocking her head back as far as her shoulders will let her. "I’m close," you're barely able to catch the words, paper-thin and shivering, "just need..."

Sakura shimmies off of Kazuha and lands on her feet, gait looking kind of silly.

“Oh, Kazuha,” she says, with the kind of dejected little sigh that you’re used to hearing when you say something disappointing or objectionable and Sakura has to set it right.

She shoves you off with a gentle push from her fingertips and moves until the two of them are reshaping themselves into this soft, cozy pile. By the time they finish, she's got her fingers hooked around Kazuha's thighs and her face buried between her legs.

“There, there,” Sakura’s whispering as she laps and circles her tongue around Kazuha’s cunt, the needy tragedy of a shape that it’s in. She makes a long lick up and through the glisten between her legs before pushing her finger in, just a knuckle, curling - then two. You feel it. You’re half-hard and aching, maybe ready to go. You feel those familiar phantoms of rising pressure, in your thighs, your hips, your chest. The familiarity of how Sakura soothes her into it, inches closer to her, you never knew it looked like this.

“Fuck, Sakura, you-” Kazuha’s eyes are widening and the bones of her neck are straining, her lips parted into a perfect, pleading little bow. The duvet spills through her fingers as she searches blindly for somewhere, anywhere - she needs, and needs, and needs - needs to stay, to find an anchor, to come up for air -

She is gasping. It’s fucked: the friction, the fever-dream.

Because Sakura has her nose on her clit, mouth fucking her fast and senseless, precise, eager to please, and the way her fingers flutter in and out of her cunt looks nothing short of amazing.

It looks even better when her orgasm hits, or when it vanishes, as the case may be, because for her none of it manages to last that long; there's just this crazy moment where Kazuha goes white all over - it starts in her face, spreading across her torso, and her back snaps forward in a cresting wave before she falls. Flat and alluring and inviting.

It makes Sakura almost laugh, right into her skin. “That’s our good girl.” Kazuha is laying there, fucked-out, sodden in her own slick, destroyed. She has a hand over her face, one between her legs, feeling over her skin and what it's turned into now. Her beautiful, blemishless skin, just…smeared with you. Smothered. 

It's impossible. How could anybody function at even half their normal rate when it all just ends up here?

“Okay, alright.” Sakura crawls back on her hands, peering back. Her chin glistens and she kisses the taste off of her lips before sucking a couple fingers into her mouth to clean up. Then she lifts her arm, looking at you with a steely expression, and points to the chair in the corner of the room. 

Her smile kicks back up into the corner of her mouth, elastic, and she just says, “A promise is a promise, yeah?”

(Of course. Of course she does.)

-

It’s hours later, when a foot sharply jabbed into your rib wakes you in the middle of the night.

You have the wherewithal to take inventory, to tally it up: Sakura, Kazuha sprawled out across the sheets, the night sky flashing and splintering into iridescent sparks of darkness outside the bay window - rainfall now slowly pelting across its pane.

At the sound of a snore - a novel one, one that must be Kazuha’s - Sakura turns and drapes the sheets up to her waist. She’s half-asleep. The softness in her eyes obscured by the short, drowsy blinks of her lashes.

“What time is it?” she asks, trying to will herself back to sleep.

You tell her: “Don’t matter.”

-

The "full disclosure" here isn't of a whole lot of use. Not really. But it's all there, at least, this surface-level pretense of an explanation. 

It’s late August, a summer ago, and you can still picture the unbothered look on Sakura’s face when she brings it up.

“So, like,” Sakura starts to say. She’s inspecting a pair of stilettos, weighing them carefully in one hand. They would look lovely on her and the price tag isn’t anywhere near enough to dissuade her. “What’s your take on Kazuha?”

“Um.” You’re there, beside her, shuffling out the way so a mother and her squalling child can pass. “Is that a name I’m supposed to recognize?”

There are several people in line behind you and not a single one of them are pleased, judging from what you can infer from the grumblings in their pockets and the anger bristling amongst their expressionless faces.

You could ask: please be patient with us, it has been a long few months - I can tell by how Sakura has this irritated look in her eye and hasn't called me by my pet name since we woke up from a midday nap, or how she's barely said anything other than oh and yeah or umm or sure since. That said, there have been bigger, larger-scale concerns, so forgive us, please, we love each other, or something like that.

Instead, you lean against a wall, by a clothing boutique display full of eye-searingly-bright polo shirts, and pull out your phone.

“Seriously?” Sakura asks. “You’ve met her like, twenty times.”

You don’t look up from the screen. "Well, when you give me some kind of clue, I'll see what I can do."

This gets a tight-lipped frown. She leans in on her toes, whispering it into your ear: "The one I said is a little crazy about you."

“Ah.” It clicks. Kazuha, that one. “She was the one with Chaewon the other night right? Dark hair, yea-high? At the gala - helping Minju look for her boyfriend. Did you ever hear about where they found him? By one of the bathrooms on the second floor, with an arm around Eunbi and-”

Sakura creases an eyebrow.

(And what a glare, really. It makes her face look like the backdrop of a brick wall in some mediocre, early-2000s film noir.)

“Another quarter in the gossip jar.”

“Oh, but asking me some loaded question about a girl I hardly know is let-me-guess: perfectly kosher.”

“Loaded?” Sakura huffs, tugging at her sleeve. She pauses, though, her expression almost flounders because she can never truly ever explain why the rules don’t apply to her. “Is that the word?”

“My answer,” you tell her, “is unchanged. She’s sweet and nice and a sort of, conventionally attractive.”

"Really; nothing about her does it for you?"

A loaded question gets a loaded answer, so: “No, not particularly.”

"And what happens if the question becomes less 'what do you think' and more 'I want her to rail me,'" she says, somewhat chilly. “You know, as a hypothetical.”

She wants you to look up at that, and well you are, because you realize it now. “Oh my god. Sakura, you still haven’t told her about us.”

Sakura just makes a face, of a type of: puzzled and concerned quality, and it’s kind of cute actually. She’s perfected the look.

Although, really, she shouldn’t have to explain anything - why you sleep over some times, stay the whole night. Or several. Nothing has to be answered after. It’s you, Sakura, and it always has been. But it’s a problem. Each morning, Kazuha’s eyes get a little sadder, and that kernel of shame inside Sakura grows ever larger.

“Sakura,” you insist.

“I know, I know, I know.” She bites her lip, thinking, and hums under her breath. “Lying about it obviously isn’t helping, but being straight with her sounds…” Sakura’s expression dips. “You know she just has that - that disposition, those never-been-hurt-once kind of eyes. Disappointing her is like choking out the little mermaid with a bike chain.”

“You could set her up.”

“Trust me: Chaewon and I have tried.”

“And it doesn’t take."

Sakura shrugs. “She gets nervous easily, or something. Didn’t get enough attention from boys while in ballet school I suppose - and then here you come along and smile at her like you don’t know what it does to people. Which, careless by the way.”

“Well, it explains the legs.”

Sakura scoffs. “Conventionally attractive, huh, seems like you’ve cast a wide net.”

It earns her this pinched look, your mouth set in a tight line, and Sakura smiles - all smug-like. By this time, she’s narrowed it down, a pair of shoes in each hand, and she holds them out to you, sighing.

"Which ones."

You point at the heels Sakura has in her left: a sleek pair of green pumps with a thin gold buckle across the ankle strap.

"Hmm. Kazuha likes the color green, by the way. A lot."

"That's nice. I'm a fan of neutrals."

Sakura clicks her tongue. “You really don't have anything to say about her."

"Nothing comes to mind." You hold a tote bag out in front of you, waiting for her to plop the shoes in. "Although, she's tall - taller than you - hey, with the heels maybe you could finally kiss her."

“Ha, funny,” she says, and then, pursing her lips, you see the lightbulb go off: Sakura is struck with an idea.

You don’t go out of your way to hate her ideas. She has so many of them. It’s just that they have this tendency to be pretty damn awful.

“Can I, politely decline?” you ask, once Sakura finishes whispering into your ear, and sinks back to the soles of her feet.

Sakura blinks, innocently. (She can be so obnoxious when she wants to be.)

"No, I'm serious," you tell her. Sakura can't expect that you're actually down for this - the setup, the miscommunication, the endless drama, all that messy work, and for what, your girlfriend-in-eveything-but-name-only's peace of mind? "Declining. Politely. Please."

"C'mon, hear me out. It'll be fun."

You tip your head, onto some more dismissive angle or another, but Sakura takes it to be a whole different type of signal: that you're actually warming up to the idea.

(You're not.)

"Fun," you repeat.

“Well,” she says, cracking a grin. And that’s when you know - that her mind is set, immovable - like she’s laid the foundation, poured the concrete and is now standing in it, knee deep, spitefully triumphant. "It sure as shit ain’t going to be boring."

-

It was supposed to be like dominos, falling sequentially, until at last, the final one is knocked down and all three of you can move on with your lives.

This is how things tend to work out: Sakura, a bit of a schemer, and you - well, you a bit of something else.

-

It’s begun raining biblically by the time the three of you’ve gotten dressed, eaten and had something that even remotely resembles a functional, human interaction.

It’s over a cup of tea and a modest stack of papers - Sakura's sitting at the dining room table with her knees tucked into her chest and has taken to typing something on her laptop. It’s a whole thing, she refuses to write by hand like you. And Kazuha feels it’s within reason to start playing twenty questions. Starting simple, mundane: how did the two of you even meet? How have you not told me this story? How did it become, whatever the fuck this is?

Sakura rolls her eyes, thinking, please, how juvenile, and opens her mouth to explain, then pauses, unsure. She thinks it through - the simplest iteration, the most plausible interpretation, or at least something that makes the two of you seem a little less unhinged - but when those gears grind to a halt, Sakura's teeth click together and the words fail to make any headway at all.

You lean forward in the quiet, and end up telling Kazuha the usual story, how it kind of went down, telling her that neither of you "are looking for any sort of commitment."

(That's, by the way, exactly the turn of phrase Sakura once told you when she explained she didn't want a "monogamous, committed relationship," once upon a time, in fact - just a wayward daydream - a hazy, silly memory.)

Kazuha laughs, softly. "Cool." She does a bit of nodding, biting into a slice of toast, the crunch singular and resolute. She seems to understand.

Then she cocks her head, a frown shadowing in on one side of her mouth. "Okay, um, you're not...doing that with anybody else though right?"

"Doing what?" Sakura asks, seeming kind of amused.

"Dating - fooling around, that kinda stuff."

You let go of the ballpoint pen in your hand and take a deep breath.

"Kazu," Sakura says, clamshelling her laptop emphatically. “We are not going to (1) have a threesome with anybody we’re not absolutely candid about and then (2) fucking lie about it after.”

“Cool.” Kazuha bobs her head again. “Cool, cool, cool.”

-

So actually, maybe it’s not a total disaster, you think. It’s all with a bit of luck, and a whole lot of foolishness, but it’s however those sayings tend to go. You can’t take life too seriously, or you’ll never make it out alive.

-

Here's what tips you off: Sakura is deep into a game of Bloons on her phone when you cum on Kazuha's face.

Well - after your load spits a long stripe onto her tongue - and once the heady taste of it makes her recoil on instinct, but then she sinks a little further onto her knees and settles, with her mouth open wide, and her tongue out like she’s being baptized. She simply lets the rest of it happen. And let’s be perfectly clear, she wants it to.

She’s jerking you with her fingers, smearing it all over her. On her cheek, her forehead, across the bridge of her nose, the luscious swell of her pink lips; every gorgeous and perverse spot and stain becomes something Kazuha has earned.

Sakura’s laying totally horizontal on the couch and has yet to lift a single one of her eyes from the screen, humming approvingly, "is she letting you jizz on her face?"

You look up at Sakura's even expression, catching how she's peeking from beneath heavy eyelids, with two thumbs swirling over the face of her phone.

"Guess she is," you reply, turning a smirk into your shoulder, rolling a thumb along Kazuha's temple as a viscous glob of cum dribbles over the edge of her brow and into her lashes. "Fucking filthy little cumslut."

Kazuha lets your cock slip out from her lips. Manages still, a pretty little smile.

It’s not just that she likes it when you degrade her a little, which, honestly, you wouldn’t have ever pegged, but Kazuha likes being made to wear her sin so that it never leaves her alone. Here she is, now realizing that dirty, divine truth: getting called names, used and treated like a cumrag. 

Now, she can’t get enough.

The grip you’d woven into Kazuha’s dark silky hair to fuck your cock into her lips is the same you use to rein her in, walking her from the unassuming doorway where she’d gotten herself down on her knees for you and reached her fingers into the waist of your pants - over toward the couch where Sakura’s lounging in the world's smallest pair of shorts and a tank top.

Sakura’s still going on about this level she can’t figure out when you bend Kazuha over the arm of the sofa. “It’s this fucking chimps stage,” she says, blowing her bangs out of the way. “It’s the only intermediate one I haven’t full cleared-”

Kazuha gasps - and the sound comes out near reverent - when you pull her underwear down her thighs and slip your cock into her cunt.

Fuck, she feels incredible. You’ve claimed two greedy handfuls of her ass, watching her head drop between her shoulders as she steadies the air that rattles out of her, and you just keep sliding into her - deeper and deeper until your cock is fucking her apart, spreading her open, so very full.

“Have you tried, not spamming plantations?” you ask Sakura, the syllables slowing, making room for the rough cadence of your breathing, as you drive your hips in. “Since they, you know, don’t actually pop anything.”

“Hey.” Sakura’s lip quivers like it’s about to pout, but never does. “It’s rude to backseat.”

You’re fucking Kazuha slow, but you’re also tilting your hips down, going for the deep, sharp angle that you’ve found she likes - the kind of stroke that get’ll her sobbing if you really lean into it. You don’t miss the soft moans that drift out of her either, or the way her pussy throbs and grasps and swallows every inch of you.

“And see, that’s a common misconception,” Sakura continues to drawl, squinting up at the screen, “this game isn’t actually about popping the bloons. It’s about making as much money as humanly-”

She looks up. Sees, finally. 

You press your hips right down to the curve of Kazuha's ass and bottom out inside her. Confirming what you already knew: the way it feels to fuck this needy, insatiable, incomparable body. Sopping wet. So hot, too. So tight, snug around your cock. It's unlike anything, and seeing Kazuha like this, folded over and racked with a shudder - when it all comes down to it, it's just that simple.

It's this fucking little pussy. That fucking curve of her ass, peerless in nearly every conceivable way. It urges you to move, irresistible. To push past that tight, snug grip and pound her relentlessly.

However she wants it.

“You look pretty today, Kazuha,” Sakura tells her as she leans forward, nonchalantly and holding back a smirk, and she starts to inspect the damages: the red that taints her ears, the blush creeping in, the face you're drawing a few curls of her hair aside for Sakura to stare at.

There is, of course, the more obvious - the most obvious - all the cum still painted onto her pretty face. You find beneath your fingertips that it’s sticky all over her cheeks, the kind of sticky that is quickly drying, almost tacky.

"I always look pretty," Kazuha gathers the composure to say back at her, like her arms aren’t trembling with the effort to hold up her lithe frame.

Sakura laughs, the sound coming like a plucked chord.

And it is true, that beneath a few splatters and streaks of your cum, Kazuha looks pretty, is pretty. She's pretty because of what she is, with what she was born with, born without - and if she's sinking her teeth into her lip, covered in cum, biting down on this moan, the next, the one that shivers through her whole body when your hips snap reckless into hers, that is more proof of her flawless disposition. That is something special one could be lucky to witness: her panting and squeaking and pressing her palms into the leather beneath her so you can slam the cock inside her to its very hilt - then fucking her, razing her like a blaze, spreading her apart until she's writhing and clawing at the sofa with every strike of your cock to that sweet, spot within her.

"You just look so particularly, um," Sakura does a bit of tilting her chin, thinking, "fucked."

Kazuha smiles despite herself. Maybe there was this vision of her before - prim, polite - demure, reserved; with the role now filled out, it couldn’t have fit less.

Sakura lets her phone fall between the cushions, and leans forward, dragging her thumb along Kazuha’s jaw - smearing more of you into her skin - dipping it just barely into her mouth so that Kazuha can suck on the tip.

“So,” Sakura starts, tipping Kazuha’s chin up on a fingertip and studying how each motion urges forward a tiny, punched-out breath. “Are you two planning on doing anything else today besides fucking each other senseless?”

It’s a hard sell. Not with your hands on her narrow, wrought little waist, and certainly not when her cunt keeps rippling around you, pulsating, spilling over - dripping like she can't take it any longer. Kazuha's a bit out of sorts, has been for more than a few moments, but this one, especially. With the stilted way she's saying, "could, we go again, if, ah," then sucking a hard breath, "if, we," and "if you think," and "please, please, please."

“Just to be clear,” Sakura runs her tongue between her lips before her gaze tracks up to meet yours. “This is on you; she wasn’t like this.”

“What, you mean cumdrunk?”

Sakura runs her hand through Kazuha’s hair “Something like that.”

All the while, she is sliding one of her hands under the cotton of Kazuha's shirt, bringing another one up the sensitive expanse of her leg, thumb stroking just inches from where your cock is gliding in out of Kazuha’s aching cunt. You almost find it a shame that Sakura's never in any rush to actually fuck Kazuha, taking her apart piece by piece first, not allowing for an ounce of hurry.

Not to mention the effect she has on her - something intense, something almost electric - and there are sparks, when she leans in and silences Kazuha’s moan with a soft kiss, somewhere between their lips, as Kazuha melts -

And dissolves -

And opens her mouth -

Your hand finds the jut of Kazuha's hips, squeezing gently, using her body to pull her into you. Pumping, thrusting. Then back and in, again, and again. Kazuha goes a little boneless; this soft, quivering mess. There's one final teary squeak - and she just, takes it.

"God," you whisper out, in an almost perplexed admiration; her cunt looks so good like that. Taken. Fucked. In use.

It’s like some wild and wonderful thing - the absolute fucking wreck she is now - her bottom lip sticking out, Kazuha sighing, "m-more."

Sakura peers over her, eyes sharp, head held high. “Better not keep her waiting.”

As it were. It all goes on and on and on.

-

So,

Here’s what people usually fail to consider about “fucking each other senseless” when they’re discussing definitive day plans:

In general, it goes off the rails - like when your hand closes around the column of Kazuha's throat and the bathroom is abruptly fogged in sex-infused haze as you're fucking your cock between her legs. The tip nudging just past the smooth of her folds, slipping along the ridges and curves of her thighs, or when it all builds up to something else and the head of your cock is a sloppy mess against the little dip of her asshole and you fuck her there, too.

Sometimes, it gets very silly. When Sakura pouts at you and pulls your fingers from Kazuha's cunt to have her lick at them and there's an instant jolt that hits at the look in her eye - dilated and black, smirking, hungry. 

Then, maybe Sakura slips a hand down Kazuha's pants, gives her a little, "good girl, huh? Little fuckin' cumslut. And you can do it with your mouth full, too, hmm?"

She’ll do this thing so practiced, you’d think she’d done it a thousand times. She’ll slow the roll of her hips down on your cock, for a rare respiteful second, and press a sharp bite to the shell of Kazuha's ear. You get that gleam off her canines when Kazuha lets the words drop, mumbling with Sakura's fingers on her jaw and yours buried three knuckles-deep inside her mouth. "Yes ma’am, yes I can."

And there's when things get very serious. Maybe, in particular, a time, a moment -

(Let's call this moment one of many, but just to use it as something of an example.)

-a phone, going off and ringing, ringing, ringing.

You haven't seen the numbers - you're kind of too busy with your cock in Kazuha's cunt and her riding the edge, circling her hips on the line of your thigh, rolling into it and soaking your skin. Until she freezes, going rigid.

(Yeah,

No shit, she's the one getting Yunjin on the other line. A few days out of town, she has this text - call ASAP. ASAP means: she is now in this awkward spot, of pulling her own soaked underwear off of your wrist, trying to compose herself, not moan or writhe. You're trying to act natural, as Kazuha hastily arranges you both - nudging you onto the bed, letting Sakura wrench your shirt off from behind.)

By the time Kazuha's listening to Yunjin retell some story - no, yeah, she went out and got a new car. Then this funny thing, so she came across the scrapyard, and this other thing - did you know it costs a dollar fifty? She's got a shovel in the back, still can't believe it! - your hand is closed around your cock, trying to, gently, in vain, get some sort of handle on it.

But everything else happens way too fast: Sakura's foot falls across the meat of your inner thigh, and her expression is all, please. Don't you want to put me in my place? Please, for her - it'd mean so much to, just to, ride that massive, fat fucking cock-

Fuck, she's a bad influence, your best friend. Your lover, in all senses.

Anyways - your tongue in her mouth -

Your arm around her waist -

Kazuha gets it figured out. Yunjin's good to talk for a couple of minutes, and while your head is thrown back on a pillow, hearing Kazuha work out all this small talk about her shiny new volkswagen, your brain is somewhere between exploding, overstimulation, overload - Sakura's mouth, her tits, her pussy - whatever, wherever - just, fuck, she's -

You're just…fucking her. Truly fucking her. She's grinding, rolling her clit, making these choked noises. She’s not as flexible as Kazuha, who’d let you turn her into a pretzel or force her into the splits and pound away until there’s a load leaking from her pussy - until there’s several - but there’s something else about Sakura’s tight, grasping cunt, how you it quivers and milks you, a soft, soft silk that wants to tug at you, consume you -

Kazuha’s on the phone, wrapping up, telling Yunjin, “okay, I love you, bye, I love you, yes, okay, I love you, bye, I’ll talk to you later, soon, I love you. Yes, I’ll get to it. First thing tomorrow.”

Sakura’s on a sort of different thread, leaning into you and telling you to put a hot load into her cunt, your pretty girl, please - her mouth toying with the soft lobe of your ear, working in the angle of her hips on top of you and dragging her cunt against all the right parts of your cock in tandem, then asking: "is this little pussy gonna get filled up like hers? Make a mess and ruin me?"

And, there’s you -

Going fast, faster - you want more of her, she wants more of you - her tiny frame shaking with need, your hips slamming into hers and pushing her up the mattress and making a fucking mess of her perfect cunt. Your fingers are clasped over her mouth. Hers are probably clasped around your very soul, because you think:

This girl.

This girl -

Fuck, it isn’t complicated at all.

-

(As it is most years, the full bloom lasts about a week. There’s a cherry tree outside the window, one, three floors down from your apartment; its flowers are in their final days. A warm breeze whispers a cascade of petals to the earth below, and from this distance, they look almost dream-like, like snow falling soft.

You lie to yourself: maybe, if it could stay just like that, maybe forever.)

-

For weeks, Kazuha comes and goes. More of her belongings enter than ever leave the apartment - shoes, laundry, hair ties, the occasional purse or two. Her books take up the most space, overflowing to the point where the stack is spilling off the kitchen table.

It all serves to solidify the unspoken agreement among the three of you, that this isn’t going away any time soon.

At present, she’s currently in a moment of going. 

You and Sakura watch from the fire escape as her figure on the street below climbs into a cab and heads off in a vaguely-western direction.

With your backside to the railing and your elbows looped over the iron bars, the cigarette smoldering between your fingertips curls up a single smoky tendril. Beside you, Sakura has her sunglasses shielding her eyes from an early-evening summer sun. Her lips, just the subtlest pink shade of coral - pink, rose - start to pick up the colors of fleeting daylight. You watch her focus flit between you and the horizon, unreadable, inscrutable and turn back on the asphalt.

There's this wind that fills out her skirt and reveals a sliver of her thighs, a space in time where her legs aren’t painted red and her hair looks a bit lighter.

Sakura points the fronts of her sneakers down as though to really study the pavement below. "What's with that face?"

"No face," you say.

"Yes face," Sakura insists, tipping her head.

A strand of her bangs swings along the line of her cheekbone to where she tucks it, delicate, behind her ear. And then:

"Y'know."

You tap off a line of ash. "Do I?"

She rolls her eyes and replies, simply, "us."

-

Some mornings, there's coffee.

Some evenings, another show gets binged, or a movie.

Some nights are always reserved for bed, a three-person scrum at the very center and warm bodies laced over one another.

This one - tonight - is always the hardest to predict.

There was no denying the thud. There were no stifling the sounds - the cries and pleas, the streams of  no, please don't stop, which you think must’ve been coming from Kazuha. There were other voices too, fainter - they slipped right out your head, unabashed.

Another came from behind, Sakura moaning out a hoarse "there you go baby, just like that. Take that little cunt of hers." And on, on and on: Kazuha whimpering and mewling out an obscene pitch - fucked over and out, full and satisfied.

With that, you can't even tell which is better. Looking down, the lovely sight of your cock filling Kazuha's pussy - spreading her wide open for you - so indecent, and hot, and, really, there's that fantasy that she has that can play out on repeat. Laid out on a mattress and used, exactly as she's always wanted to be. Fucked, again, again, again - full of cum.

Only somewhere along the way it all slows down. To the basics, the essentials.

See, there’s a place by the tidal river that you and Sakura like to go, sometimes, just to take a break. It’s a clearing in the trees that by mid-summer will be swarming with bugs, but is for now, mostly okay. And if you’re going to get tangled up in origin stories, this is probably the best place to start:

"What about that one?" Kazuha asks, pointing up at another ambiguous point on the vast dark canvas overhead. Her head is in your lap, and she's tearing up the grass with her other hand.

Sakura squints. "Hmm. Let's see. That one over there is Gemini, I think." She moves her finger, dragging Kazuha's gaze across the heavens. "That star cluster right there. I call it The Bee. But if you want the real name, you can call it Messier 35. The French got to that one first, I guess."

Kazuha seems to ignore her, the brief aside, to stare, to dream.

“Sakura, hey,” she says in a half-whisper, its sound trailing into the dull drone of cicadas, the croaking cadence of bullfrogs, like a will o’ wisp into the night sky. “Where’d you learn all this stuff?”

“She didn’t,” you tell her. “She makes it up as she goes along.” 

Kazuha twists around to level her with this pout, half-crooked, almost grinning. Sakura just shrugs, blameless. There’s grass falling off her sweatshirt and speckling her knees. Her ponytail is crooked, her smile bright and beaming and contagious - you find it a wonder how you ever manage anyway.

“What about that one, you think?” she asks Kazuha, gesturing vaguely to a cluster of three bright flecks, glistening against the gradient, and Kazuha’s head tilts to follow Sakura’s index finger.

(And it’s totally worth pointing out the sort of cosmic irony here being that if any of you knew a lick about anything, you could say oh that? That’s Orion’s belt, binding together the great hunter himself - to his quiver, and to the bowstring, his pride, and to his most prized possession: his arrow, gleaming, eternally shining in the midnight glow of faraway planets and twinkling, blinking stars.

None of you are astronomers after all. Not you. Sakura, maybe, if you ask Kazuha. But for the time being, you'd never know.)

“Dunno,” Kazuha says, "but it must mean something."

You and Sakura share a long breath.

The three of you staring up into the infinite blue.

#sakura smut #kazuha smut #le sserafim smut #izone smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #izone sakura smut #le sserafim kazuha smut #le sserafim sakura smut

[tending-the-hearth]

favorite "chalice of the gods" moments, in no particular order

spoilers below!!!

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percy and annabeth having the same setup for iris messaging, and having cute little sign-offs when they say goodbye to each other

grover going to percy's swim meets 😭😭😭

annabeth and sally's relationship, they adore each other so much

PAUL AND ANNABETH'S RELATIONSHIP LIKE YES GIVE THAT GIRL A SUPPORTIVE AND PRESENT FATHER FIGURE

just... annabeth being a jackson-blofis even before percy proposes

annabeth not making and blue desserts because it's percy and sally's thing and she sees that as something sacred!!!

percy being bitter about the recommendation letters!! let him be a bit of a bitch!!!

percy, annabeth, and grover having a regular smoothie place that they go to 😭 they're best friends your honor

i kind of wish we got more of the trio as eight-year-olds, like those are babies and i need to see more of grover trying to play-fight with percy

grover admitting that he's scared of percy and annabeth going to california!! he doesn't want to lose them!! y'all mind if i sob?????

50% of percy's internal monologue being about how cool and amazing annabeth is

the way the trio just trusts and supports one another???

annabeth hanging out with juniper, idk why, i like thinking about the two couples going on double date picnics <3

percy embracing old age 😭😭😭😭 and seeing himself growing old with his two best friends 😭😭😭 the way i was bawling my eyes out

annabeth being worried about percy's reaction to sally being pregnant because of her own bad experiences with her half-brothers and her dad and percy knowing exactly where her mind was going like YES PLEASE give me more percabeth reading each other's minds

percy talking about how he could never see himself with anyone other than annabeth because they've known each other for so long but also because they're bonded in a way no one else understands 😭

annabeth never saying luke's name after the Titan War and the trio still struggling to talk about him, my beloveds 😭 give them therapy please

the mention of jason talking about wanting to have kids with piper and grow old with her... how dare?????

the sheer amount of percy and grover moments... i missed them so much... they're platonic soulmates!!!!

idk i said it before but the way this book just felt like "the lightning thief"? the trio being all sarcastic with each other, joking and teasing one another, being comfortable with each other in a way no one else understands?

ALSO PERCY CANONICALLY CONFIRMED AS THE AUTHOR OF THE BOOKS IN-UNIVERSE THANK YOUUUUUU

in conclusion i love this book so very very much

#cotg spoilers #chalice of the gods #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #percabeth

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 1

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes

masterlist / next

The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.

“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 

You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.

“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.

Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 

“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”

You promptly obeyed.

“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”

“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 

“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 

You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”

Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 

Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents’ home. 

That’s it then.

You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 

Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.

Does he even know you exist?

Will you be able to survive this?

Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.

“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”

“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”

Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”

“I’ll get the booze.”

“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.

“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”

You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 

Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”

“What if he doesn’t give that up?”

You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”

Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”

Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”

Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 

“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”

“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”

You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”

You weren’t technically late. 

While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 

Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 

You felt tired.

Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 

Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.

Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”

“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”

You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”

“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 

You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 

As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 

Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 

Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”

At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 

Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”

A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.

It seems he didn’t remember you after all.

The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 

He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 

Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 

“Hey, you.”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 

“Hey, snot-face.”

You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”

You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 

Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 

Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.

masterlist / next

#yoongi #yoongi fic #bts yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts fic recs #yoongi x you #bangtan #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan x reader #bangtan fic #bts fic #bts smut #bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts x you #min yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfic #myg x reader #myg fic #myg smut #myg #myg angst #asingledaffodil

[permanentswaps]

Breaking Eric’s Trust Pt. 2

Read Part 1, written by vice versa swaps, here.

Will:

After the swap, we walked back through the parking lot and Bryce drove me back to my new home. My new body was much leaner than I was used to, making me feel a bit disoriented as I walked through the door. But I couldn't deny the appeal of Bryce’s youthful a physique – even if it was very different from the heavy muscles I'd worked for decades to build on my own body.

Entering Bryce’s room, I took in the surroundings and decided to try my hand at some sketches.

"Let’s see if this really improves my art skills," I thought to myself.

I quickly found myself engrossed in the creative process, a feeling I'd been craving to get back to. As the sketches took shape, I couldn't help but admire the dexterity of my new hands.

Distracted, I gently traced my fingertips along the veins of my opposite hand. Slowly I traced up my forearm and to my bicep, which I flexed. I then moved my hand over to my muscular chest and grazing my new sensitive nipples. I raised my arm to flex in the mirror and thought to myself “This body may not be as strong as mine, but it’s hot as fuck. Why would Bryce ever want to give this up.”

Hot and bothered, I retreated to the bathroom where I stepped into the hot shower. Felling the hot water falling across my back, I lowered my right hand to my cock while feeling my muscles with my left.

“I’m so fucking sexy. I’m so fucking sexy.” I growled to myself, before eventually cumming across the shower wall. As I came down from climax, I shook off the thought, reminding myself I’m only borrowing this body.

Just as I finished up in the bathroom, my phone rang – it was Eric, asking to hang out. When Eric arrived, I greeted him with a smile, trying to act casual.

"Hey, Eric! What's up, man?" I, now in Bryce's body, said, attempting to sound as natural as possible.

"Not much, man! Just figured I'd swing by and see what you're up to," Eric replied.

I chuckled, "Oh, not much. Wanna play some Call of Duty?"

The two of us settled into the gaming setup, controllers in hand. As we played, I couldn't help but marvel at the experience of hanging out with my son from a different perspective.

In the midst of the gaming session, I saw this as my opportunity to ask about things I wouldn’t normally know about.

"How are you feeling about going away to school?" I asked, trying to keep the question casual.

"A bit nervous, but I’m mostly excited and ready to get out of the house – date some hot girls. I am worried about my dad though; it's gonna be tough for him to be alone like this, I think," Eric replied.

I felt a twinge of sadness at Eric's response but turned my focus back to the game.

Changing the topic, Eric asked, "How about you, how are you feeling about the gap year?"

I hesitated for a moment, then replied, "I'm not sure if it was the right choice, to be honest."

"Well, at least in a year, you'll still be off to college. Then, we’ll be able to hang all the time and you'll have your pick of all the guys there," Eric said with a playful grin.

I smirked to myself, "Yeah, that'll be great," before indulging in a brief fantasy about what it would be like to live Bryce’s life in college instead of just here at home.

Bryce

A week had passed since we visited the lab, and Mr. Sullivan and I had gotten surprisingly good at mimicking each other's mannerisms and habits. As we were packing up the car to move Eric up to campus, he casually asked, “Would it be alright if Bryce came with us to drop me off?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I responded, happy to not let Mr. Sullivan miss out on this big moment.

The three of us drove up to campus together, joking and listening to music the whole way. We grabbed a quick bite to eat before walking around the campus and bidding an emotional farewell. Mr. Sullivan, in my body, teared up a bit, to which Eric laughed and said, "Don't worry, dude. I'll FaceTime you all the time," before playfully punching his shoulder.

As we climbed back into the car to drive home, I realized this was the first time Mr. Sullivan and I had been alone together since the swap.

"How are you doing?" I asked, glancing at him.

"Alright, I guess. I'm just really going to miss him," Mr. Sullivan responded, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "The other night we were hanging out, and he told me he was worried about me, or you now, I guess. He thought I’d be lonely without him, and damn, I think he’s right."

"Oh, really? I'm sorry to hear that. But at least you know he cares," I said, attempting to offer some consolation.

"Yeah, I guess," he sighed.

"And hey, you've still got me," I added playfully, reaching over to place my thick, callused hand on his thigh. I gripped the steering wheel with the other hand, feeling the warmth radiating from him. It was clear he was blushing, and I couldn't help but smirk.

We pull into the driveway and stumble into the house. I pinned him up against the wall in multiple spots, and we shredded our clothes as we went. I was enjoying the virility of this body – I was strong before, but never like this.

Tossing my former body onto the bed, I asked, “What do you want me to do to you.”

Looking up and biting his lip submissively, Mr. Sullivan asked, “You know the other day at the lab when I said, ‘you can do whatever you want with my body when you’re in it.’” I nodded. “I really meant anything,” he said.

After loosening him up with my fingers, I rolled on a condom and began to slide myself into my former body’s tight hole. It had been a while since I had taken anything this big, and I could feel the tightness around my new cock. Yet, something wasn’t cutting it.

After a few minutes of fucking, I growled “Daddy wants to feel all of you, I hope you like it raw,” growled before taking off the condom and sliding back in. The ecstasy was almost too much to handle and we climaxed together shortly thereafter.

The next morning, I woke up in bed, feeling the warmth of sunlight filtering through the blinds. Stretching and yawning, I rubbed my face, the rough texture of a beard grazing my palms. Glancing to the other side of the bed, I saw Mr. Sullivan in my body still peacefully asleep.

As great as last night was, a slight twinge of remorse tugged at my emotions. The idea of betraying Eric's trust weighed heavily on my conscience.

Deciding to focus on the present, I smiled softly before leaning over and gently kissing Mr. Sullivan on the cheek just like he had done at the swap labs before we had exchanged bodies. As Mr. Sullivan stirred awake, I greeted Mr. Sullivan with a warm smile.

"Good morning," I said, still getting used to a deeper voice. "Sleep well?"

Mr. Sullivan rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Yeah, surprisingly well. This body of yours is quite comfortable."

I chuckled, "Glad to hear it,” before diving back in to start round two.

A few months later

Over the course of the fall, Bryce (we’d begun to refer to each other using our former names) and I navigated the complexities of each other's. I was pretty successful in fighting my lonely streak, having met a lot of new friends at the gym and through my new local softball league.

Meanwhile Bryce was also working out like crazy and had flourished in his artistic pursuits, getting admitted to an art fellowship program that he could do for the rest of his gap year.

Hidden from prying eyes, our secret relationship also continued to thrive. Even though we didn’t tell Eric, he still clocked the positive change. A few weeks ago, during a Facetime call after a particularly enjoyable afternoon session with Bryce, he teased, "Wow, Dad, you're looking great. Honestly glowing... what … or who … have you been getting up to?" I laughed it off in the moment, but as time dragged on the weight of lying to Eric grew heavier on my conscience.

Finally, it was now the day before Thanksgiving break, meaning that Eric will be home tomorrow for the first time since we dropped him off. While Bryce had been up to visit him a couple of times, I still hadn’t seen him in person for months.

I invited Bryce over to the house, ready to figure out what to do. We laid together on the bed. I sat leaning against the headboard and some pillows and his head rested gently on my bare chest.  

"I gotta level with you, Bryce. I'm feeling really guilty,” I said, using my thick fingers to stroke Bryce’s torso through his halfway unbuttoned shirt. “I'm not sure I can keep up this lie to Eric much longer," I confessed.

Will, his expression thoughtful, suggested, "Well what if we just came clean to him now?"

"No, if we did that, I don't think he'd ever trust either of us ever again," I replied.

"We could swap back now," he proposed tentatively, a look of disappointment flickering across his face.

Pulling his lean body in closer to mine, I smirked. Nibbling on ear I said in a raspy whisper, "You wear that ass way better than I ever did, no way in hell am I going to make you give it up."

He looked at me, blushing, and I continued, "No, as much as it kills me, I think we need to end our relationship."

Will nodded, another look of disappointment flashing across his face before he replied, “Alright Will, if that’s what you really think is best.”

“But before we do, I need to feel my tight ass one last time,” I growled.

I got up and moved to his side before finishing unbuttoning his shirt. Then, gently running my hands from his torso around to his lower back, I motioned to take of his pants and briefs.

As I ate out his ass, I could feel my beard scratching against his smooth cheeks. Once he was loose, I got on my knees, raised his legs over my shoulders, and slid my raw cock into his tight hole.

After what feels like hours of fucking in every position imaginable, he’s finally riding on top.

Throwing his head back in ecstasy at me he moans to himself, “Oh fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. This body is so fucking hot.” Feeling himself up, he continues, “This is all mine. I deserve this. I am such a fucking hot hunk.”

I look up at him, a twinge of nostalgic regret washes over me. But as quickly as that feeling arrives, Bryce looks down at me and says, “Oh yeah, and it’s all thanks to you Will.” A naughty smirk crossing his face he continues, “Tell me how much you want me.”

Picking up the pace of my upward strokes I grunt, “Fuck yeah Bryce, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Fuck right I am, say my name again” he yells back.

“Unghhh Bryyyyceeeee,” I moan. “Take that dick, Bryce,” I grunt, grabbing his cock.

He leans over moaning, “Oh fuck yeah Daddy, I’m cumming” before kissing me and gently stroking my sensitive nipples.

That is enough to send me over the edge, coating his insides with my seed as we cum simultaneously.

Basking in the afterglow, I feel my meat still throbbing deep inside him.  “Well even if we can’t be together, I still hope we can do that every once in a while,” he said, continuing to feel up my sweaty, muscular torso.

Biting my lip, I reply, “I don’t see why not.”

[theminecraftbee]

situation ask game: joe hills for 16?

16. Meeting past/future self

"Howdy!" Joe Hills says.

"Howdy!" Joe Hills says back. "This seems to be quite the predicament."

"Oh god, there are two of them," whispers Doc. He'd just wanted to check on the log shop, man. Joe had said something about fixing some redstone (inherently terrifying to hear), and he'd just wanted to come check on it and inevitably fix the fixed redstone, and now there are two of them.

"I have to say," the first Joe Hills--presumably, the original one, given that he's insisting on saying everything through that stupid hand puppet he made this season, although Doc couldn't tell you--says. "I'm fairly certain seeing my own ghostly visage is normally considered a bad sign in most literature. Luckily, this isn't literature, so I can ignore the ill portent."

"Alas, I am, in fact, a bad omen," the second Joe Hills says, all too cheerfully. The second Joe Hills does not have a hand puppet and appears by all measures to be a ghost. Doc would generally agree that's a bad sign too, except for the fact that the Joe he knows is a ghost about fifty percent of the time, and oh no, he's already confused. There are two of them and he's already confused.

Maybe he should go get some coffee. The cafe Cleo set up is supposed to be good, and if he's this confused, maybe he'll manage to get himself to walk past the cats before he remembers he's supposed to be scared.

"Oh no," Doc's Joe says. "I don't have time for bad omens. For one, I'm not any good at killing pillagers. For another thing, I'm busy. See I was trying to help and I accidentally broke Doc's redstone and I feel bad because I think he's like, actually for-real mad about it, not fake mad, and we're supposed to be business partners, right, so I thought I'd come here and fix the redstone. Except then when I was hanging out with Mumbo at the end of our setup confessional Mumbo mentioned something and I just now remembered it and I think I fixed it wrong, so I'm here to try to figure that out, and that means I really don't have time for a bad omen."

"We never do," the ghost Joe says, shaking his head.

Doc, weirdly, feels touched.

"So if you could go away and give me dire warnings later--"

"Sorry, I don't have time to be put off for later! If you put this off for future Joe, you're putting this off to me! Then I'll have to do this all over again, and it'll be a closed time loop. Or, I guess mostly closed, because I don't remember this. But maybe you hit your head and forget everything! I don't know! I don't know how time travel works, but closed time loops were always the really confusing ones because they try to make sense. If we don't try to make sense you might still be able to change things."

"Oh no. What if this is a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

"I hadn't considered that," the ghost Joe says.

"I mean, everything I've ever read says that in trying to avert catastrophe, I am likely to accidentally cause it!" Doc's Joe says.

"Maybe the solution is for you to not believe my warnings?" the ghost Joe says. "No, that always ends badly too. That means there's dramatic irony!"

"Right, right. Maybe you just have to be as clear as possible, so I can't misinterpret your words?"

"No, I think the solution is to be vague," the ghost Joe says. "Good prophecies are normally vague that way. I mean, I'm mostly just here to tell you how to avert the nasty end of the world that kills everyone super dead, not anything too complicated! If I put too many details in, I'll leave in a dramatically appropriate loophole by accident, and then you'll never manage it."

"True, but Cleo says that I should always be given exact instructions, or I'll do the wrong thing on purpose," Doc's Joe says.

"We do that even more with exact instructions."

"That is true! And I guess it's harder to remember exact instructions?"

"Maybe the solution, given that I am going to vanish back to the past in five minutes," the ghost Joe says, "is that I should simply write down my instructions. That will make them harder to misremember or misinterpret."

"I will lose those too! This is too much responsibility!"

"I know! That's what I said!" ghost Joe says. "I said, why are you asking me. I mean I know the ghost thing is the only reason I can do this, but I don't want this kind of responsibility! I am not trustworthy! You all have known this since, like, day one, stop putting this kind of stressful responsibility on me! I do weird things when I'm stressed! I mean, I'm always stressed--"

"That's true, we are," Doc's Joe interjects.

"--but this is even more stressful than that! If I thought anyone else could do it, I would have said no! And now I don't know how to--"

"Man, if the world is going to end and kill all of us, stop worrying and just say how," Doc says, stepping out of his hiding place and throwing up his hands. "You're wasting time!"

"Oh, you're right," ghost Joe says. "So, the world will end when--"

He vanishes.

Doc and Doc's Joe stare after ghost Joe into the distance. Finally, Joe, with the world's most betrayed expression, turns to Doc.

"You scared me off!" he says. "If you hadn't shown up I'm sure I would have explained eventually."

"WHAT," Doc says as calmly as possible back. It does not appear to appease the Joe he's left with at all.

#answered #boonbeenblade #ask game #a bee fic #joe hills #docm77 #hermitcraft #hermitfic #two joes would form the world's dumbest feedback loop is what i'm saying.

[azaleaniath]

could you do a Ao’nung x Fem! sully reader? The idea is that the fem reader has some type of rough personality especially towards Ao’nung. But Ao’nung knows she’s secretly the softest person ever. Also aged up smut with Top Ao’nung? :)

I’m sorry if this sounded bad it’s my first request ever 😭

Hello anon! Thanks for the request 💙 didn't wanna go all in on nsfw but it's still spicyyy And no this wasn't bad at all! 😊

~ AO'NUNG X FEM! SULLY! READER ~

Tough lover

includes: teasing, fingering, denial, touching, cursing, insulting, enemies to lovers, flirting, aged up to 18 for legal reasons

NSFW, MINORS DNI, 18+

1.7k words

______________________

Ao'nung watched as you practiced your swimming skills in a secluded bay not too far from the village. He didn't even try to hide his stare at all. Of course you felt his eyes on your back constantly and it lead your stomach to develop a weird feeling. No matter how hard you tried to focus, knowing that Ao'nung watched every movement and every breath twisted your mind completely.

You tried to calm your senses to try to dive again, but as soon as you were submerged below the surface your arms completely lost track of themselves and you immediately kicked your way back up.

It was frustrating, even more because Ao'nung watched. You glared over to where he stood but he was nowhere to be seen anymore. 'Finally' you thought to yourself and exhaled in relief. Before you could take another breath you felt something wrap around your ankle and pull you under the water surface again.

Shrieking in surprise and panic you quickly returned to the surface all shivering as you tried to free yourself from the grip.

Soon, Ao'nung rose out of the water right next to you, chuckling at the face you made after you coughed out the water in your throat.

"You're still making no progress, huh, forest girl?" he grinned, immediately earning a punch against his chest from you.

"One day I'll feed you to my ikran and watch it slowly devouring you, fish lip."

Ao'nung only chuckled at your threat, knowing that your tough facade was nothing but a setup. He just knew that you had a soft core behind all these platings you had caved yourself into.

"Still feisty, are you, y/n?"

"At least I'm not ugly."

"That makes two of us." Ao'nung teased with his brows arching at his own words.

"What do you want?" you groaned annoyed, rolling your eyes at the sight of his visage.

Before he answered he grabbed you by your waist and and pulled you closer, guiding you into the deeper water. His touch made your heart flutter, but you only frowned at the touch.

"I'm only helping you."

You tried to free yourself from his touch to get back to the shore.

"I don't need your help!"

He wasn't surprised at your harsh voice, as if he wasn't used to that already. Over the last few months he had figured out he didn't hate you. No, quite the opposite. Ao'nung liked you. A lot.

But showing his love meant teasing, teasing and more teasing. Not just you, but all of your siblings suffered from this.

He wasn't someone to pick you pretty flowers or take you out to eat with him, he showed his feelings by trying to break through your wall, and damn it, was he eager to do so.

With squinted eyes you protested against him. "Fuck off! Let me go you little shit! Get your disgusting fish fins off me, i don't want you to touch me! Neteyam will beat the shit out of you when I tell him--"

"y/n?" he asked with his sly grin. His voice so close to your ear made you shiver.

"Open your eyes."

For some odd reason you did what he asked of you and caught your own arms tightly wrapped around his neck because you still couldn't swim properly. His hands floated in the water and held you and him over the surface with slow circling motions. You hadn't even noticed how you wrapped your own legs around his hips and he had let go of your body.

You blushed heavily as you realized how tight you wrapped your limbs around this man, but he simply chuckled at your reaction.

"Getting touchy after all, forest girl?"

"Shut up and bring me back right now!"

Ao'nung patted your head with one hand, guiding it up to look at him, and you did. There was a certain gleam in his eyes, making him seem somewhat unpredictable. His face was only a few inches away from yours.

"And what if I don't?" he teased, resting his hand on your thigh. You hiccuped at his touch, turning your face away. He was not meant to see how embarrassed you were.

"Come on, stop pretending you hate me. I know you don't."

You didn't answer.

"Shall I prove it to you?"

"Ao'nung get me back-" your voice fell silent as you felt his warm lips against your neck, trailing down to your collarbone.

Unintentionally whimpering you bit your lower lip, hoping he hadn't heard, but his chuckle said something else.

You were melting under his touch, unable to maintain your hateful expression. Physical contact between you two was nothing new, but it usually consisted of much more unpleasant punches, bites, kicks and hair or tail pulling.

Your legs shaked as his lips captured the soft skin of your neck before passionately dragging his tongue over the few marks he had left.

Without even intending to do so, your legs wrapped around his hips tighter while you bit onto your lower lip.

It was as if he took control of your body.

Both of his hands traveled from your thighs up to your hips, shivering at the touch.

"Let me go!" you protested again, even if you were aware of the fact that he did not hold you at all.

He withdrew his hands for a while and his grin only grew bigger.

"You're the one clinging onto me."

Ashamed of your own actions you tried to hide your face, pushing it against his shoulder. A deep chuckle rumbled through his body, you could feel the bass of his voice sending vibrations through you as well.

"You know", he started, resting his hands on your thighs again, "I think I like having you so close. Without you punching me and all of that. And I'm sure if you're honest to yourself, you do too."

"How would you know?!" you hissed, to which he only clicked his tongue in amusement. Ao'nungs thumbs caressed your inner thighs, forcing a few more whimpers out of you.

"You should hear yourself. These sweet noises that you make, as if your body is begging for me to touch you. You can stop playing though now, let me explore your weak side."

His hand slowly but surely found its way in between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed core.

With wide eyes you opened your mouth, telling him to stop, not to touch you, to leave you alone, but nothing came out. Your breath hitched while he massaged your most sensitive area, irregularly inhaling and exhaling.

"See? You're not even stopping me. I knew that deep down you're not as cold-hearted as you'd like to be. You like me, don't you?"

You felt ashamed. He could just make your thick walls crumble in seconds. How was that even possible? Usually you'd be the toughest in his presence specifically, but all of that was gone now.

Since you did not protest he pushed the fabric of your loincloth aside and kept stroking your folds. He could sense your arousal. Hear it, smell it, but also feel it.

Your teeth met his skin as he slipped a finger between your folds, teasingly circling over the bundle of nerves thst made you whine against his shoulder.

He lifted your chin from his shoulder to watch your expression twist in pleasure as his middle finger teased your opening to relax, and as much as you fought against it internally, you soon did.

"Oh, you should see your pretty face when I" he paused, only to push his middle finger into you while his thumb continued to cirle over your clit, "do this."

In shame you breathed out his name, bucking your hips against his hand.

He hummed, carefully observing your visage while his finger curled inside of you.

"Have you ever touched yourself like this? You feel amazing around my fingers." He mumbled, eyes focused on yours as they rolled back.

"I wonder if that pretty little face of yours could look any sweeter." You couldn't look into his eyes. You were too ashamed. All this time you had made sure to keep your guard up, not expecting he could actually break it down that simple.

Another finger was soon inserted inside of your tight core, making you squirm at his touch.

"You're so cute when you look like this."

His other hand easily slipped under the loosely woven top that covered your chest barely and in no time he found your nipples, twisting them between two fingers.

It was too much. His pumping fingers inside of you while he stimulated your clit and your breasts, you couldn't take it for too long and he could feel it. Your walls squeezed his fingers as if your body wished for them to stay in there. Your head fell forward against his shoulders as you clawed your arms around him, hips bucking against his touch. Ao'nung enjoyed these lust filled moans that spilled out of your mouth over and over again, motivating him to put some more pressure onto your clit.

It was the last bit that you needed to cum around his fingers, grinding your hips against his hand until all of his movements came to an end. He slowly pulled out of your hot core and brought both hands to your waist.

"who could have guessed? The tough forest freak, sounding so sweet and lovely" the chief's son teased, snaking both arms around your waist to that you could let go of him and rest in his arms, still shivering. A good while passed like this. It was just you and him out there, all pressed against one another. How could you ever look into his eyes again now that he knew that you had a weakness for him?

"I'll hold you, y/n." he whispered into your ear gently, wanting you to relax your limbs. His voice seemed do gentle and pure right now. Your legs slowly let go of him just like your arms. They only held onto his neck lightly anymore while you floated in his embrace.

"I don't rememeber us ever being this close without trying to kill each other" Ao'nung huffed. For the first time in a long while you finally managed to get some words out as well.

"Your chances of me killing you are higher than ever. I swear I'll feed you to my ikran." But instead of fighting against him, something deep in your stomach told you to just snuggle against him and trust him with holding you over the water surface.

"I love you too, my sweet little forest girl."

Taglist: @luvlykrispy @zatarias-pandora @vviolaswrld @yeosxxx @lilgurlbeoncrack @philiasoul @itszzmoon @simp4ff @itsnotme02 @et-j-art

#aonung headcanons #aonung x you #aonung imagine #aonung x reader #atwow ao'nung #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung #aonung #aonung smut #ao'nung smut #avatar x reader #avatar smut #aonung fanfiction #ao'nung fic #ao'nung fanfiction #Atwow

[sepublic]

The Owl House Pilot Leak!!!

            Oh my titan.

            The Owl House’s original pilot episode (basically a bunch of voiced-over storyboards) just got leaked and OMT. Watching it felt like experiencing the original magic of the show all over again… Reminding me what it was like to fall in love the first time!!! The hype and rush, the excitement to type down my thoughts after a new episode, analyzing and gushing over both big and small moments, the details!!! The pilot has reiterated all over to me again why I love these characters, from Luz's powerful earnestness, to Eda's chaotic demeanor! It’s like having the whole show open ahead of me, the possibilities endless when knowing this is just the beginning and we could go anywhere from here!

            What’s interesting is that Luz’s conflict with Camila doesn’t really exist here; In fact Camila isn’t present or mentioned at all! What brings Luz to the isles is Amity, who’s been learning in the human world, under the guise of being a human by disguising her ears! It’s alluded to that Odalia and Alador made her do it, though we don’t know why…

            But WOW that must’ve been so meta, doing S3 with Amity stuck in the human world with Luz, hiding her ears! It must’ve been a fun way to bring back the older concepts in new form! And indeed, we see a couple of stuff we’ve already gotten glimpses of, such as the storyboards of Luz offering her friendship art to Amity! I love that we get to see the actual scenario of how Amity accidentally defended Luz in the first place, since we heard that but didn’t get to see how it turned out.

            It’s interesting that Lumity is basically the inciting incident of the story, though I can see why the final version opted instead to emphasize Luz’s conflict with her mother. Especially with how she chooses to stay in the isles in the final draft, which leads to guilt over lying to her mom, having her ‘coming out’ moment that eventually occurs in Yesterday’s Lie, etc. So more agency when it comes to Luz losing her access to the human world. Plus in the pilot, there isn't the same emphasis on Luz trying to live out her dreams of being a witch, and her obsession with stories that ties back to Manny and forms the basis for a lot of other themes and arcs.

            That said, I also appreciate what this alternate take offers, and how Lumity helps tie everything together, it really is the queerness that is such a foundational part of the ‘weirdness’ theme that the show is about, and it’s intertwined with the pilot! God Luz being heartbroken when Amity dismisses the drawing… And then crying when Eda compliments it without realizing who it’s about! Or maybe she did, she could’ve recognized Luz there and figured out a way to stealthily make Luz feel better…!

            I love Luz routinely lock-picking her locker because she presumably forgot the combination! And it’s interesting that we have a setup of there being multiple dimensions that the Boiling Isles has access to, and not just the human world and Demon Realm. That plays a role in the climax, more on that later. Given we have what is basically an airport for different dimensions, I wonder if we would’ve seen Luz find her way back home much earlier on, under much less intense circumstances, in a S1A episode?

            The ‘Emperor’ is also alluded to in the pilot, which we didn’t get actual mention of until the fifth episode in the final show. He apparently dislikes humans and wants Luz brought over to him, is this still operating off of the ‘Pupa’ version of the character who claimed to speak on behalf of the true ruler, trapped in their metamorphosis by him? So maybe he wasn’t always human, or maybe this is Belos’ hypocritical way of ‘protecting’ humans by keeping them away and in blissful ignorance of the demon realm.

            We also establish Hexside much earlier! IIRC Hexside was always part of the show, but executives pushed for it to have more emphasis, which the crew continued to follow through on in S2 onwards because that had already been set up. Lilith is the principal, and I recognize the storyboards of her, including her bat transformation! We get a Tinella Nosa cameo, we see Amity, and there’s also a brief cameo of Willow too! Nice way to set her up before her proper debut.

            The ‘barrier’ containing King’s crown turns out to just be a regular human locker, which makes me wonder if the writers updated the final draft to make it a force field that only allows humans through, because of the whole Belos twist. Which makes me wonder if in this draft, Belos is Pupa, who never was human, or maybe they realized the opportunity to insert foreshadowing into a big twist regarding the main villain. Makes me wonder if the house we see Amity enter in the pilot, which is on sale, would've had any significance like in the final show. Love how Tinella Nosa is a student at Hexside, and also Dana having to occasionally insert lines for Wendie Malick and others was great.

            Lilith is a lot more openly adversarial, which is different compared to how her actual debut provides a softer side to her; I imagine this would’ve been apparent in a later episode of the ‘Pilot AU’, and her transformation has me curious; Was she originally the one with the curse, but then the writers changed it to Eda? Or did they both have a curse? Eda also has an owl form she can summon and control at Will, maybe all Clawthornes have a beast mode that’s less of a curse and more of a talent. Lilith ends up trapped in another dimension, which makes me wonder if she’d have a temporary replacement –possibly Pilot Bump- or if she’d return offscreen. We see the portal key get destroyed under much more casual circumstances, though it’s less as big of a deal for this and the established ‘dimension port’ we saw before.

            (Also, Amity recognizing Luz in the hallway… Everything to me!!!)

            Warden Wrath doesn’t exist and neither does the Conformatorium, it’s Lilith and Hexside. With her as principal and Amity as student, I wonder if we would’ve gotten more of their relationship in the pilot AU, if Covention was a way of carrying over that former connection since Amity would be a teacher’s pet in either version of the story. And speaking of ties to Covention, it’s interesting is that Eda’s chest gem seems to be linked to the Emperor’s Coven, as ‘Pilot Kikimora’ uses it to control her. Curiously, we have a scene at the end mirroring what we got with Lilith in the final draft of the show!

            I feel it implies that Eda DID join the Emperor’s Coven with Lilith, if only for a brief moment, but then defected; But the chest gem is basically the pilot version of the Emperor’s sigil, except with the explicit function of being a shock collar. I find it interesting that Eda still has the mirror to contact the EC with, instead of just getting rid of the thing. Is she a rogue agent who hasn’t totally cut ties, because she can’t? Won’t?

And the fact that Pilot Kikimora can just shock Eda at will makes me wonder if the Emperor is low-key just letting Eda roam around, which makes me wonder if he’s aware of the familial connection, is using Eda to find Luz, already knows about her doing that because of the time loop, etc. We’d of course have gotten an episode where Luz finds out about Eda’s connection and helps her deal with the gem… I realize now that Luz learning Eda also wanted to join the EC with Lilith is a carryover of this idea.

I can see the ups and downs between both versions; The final draft sets up Luz’s conflict with Camila and the reality camp, which is foundational to her character arc throughout the whole show. Her pain over being ‘sent away’ is just so vital that I appreciate its inclusion in the first episode. But I also like the inclusion of Lumity and the earnest desire to be friends with someone who showed her, unwittingly, any kindness at all! We get explicit bullying from Luz’s peers in the pilot, but in the final draft we also get her thoughtlessness that plays a big part in her S1 arc. And Luz’s arrival in the isles is more intertwined with Eda and King in the final version, which also feels right; The show is about these three in particular!

All in all, this was wonderful to watch! The magic was experienced all over again, not just in watching an episode, but also commentating on one that was just ‘released’ as well? I thought the last time I’d do anything like this was with the series finale Watching and Dreaming… But as Luz said, it really comes full circle with watching the first episode all over again! So maybe we have other stuff to still look forward to after all… At the very least, we have an eternal anticipation with an unexplored universe ahead of us, that will never reach completion; So it's like our ever-lasting final gift from TOH, and a good last one. So until next time: BBBBBYYYYYEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #lumity #eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #analysis

[twignotstick]

Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)

Part 2 💙 | <- Part 1 🧡

Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I wrote this as my love letter to the story and the characters. Especially April :)

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Leo & April, NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, recovery (i have a sneaking suspicion that will apply to the whole fic,,), talking it out because we're adults, movies, comics, they're becoming friends

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): Mention of violence (its one sentence, but figure I should still put it here :P)

Words: 1,588 (there's less setup this time)

Summary: April was able to figure out her first brother easily. Now, she gets three more, with a couple more issues to worry about.

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

As soon as she even saw Leo for the first time, she knew he wouldn't be as easy to get along with as Mikey was. Mikey was always so open, so bright, so bouncy. Leo, in comparison, was still, dull, and closed off. He had just come from a terrible ninja clan, beaten by his own master. It was kind of warranted.

Any time April would enter the medbay where they were keeping Leo, he would silently stare a hole in her soul. His face had hardly loosened from the scowl he had adopted, and any time April would get near, it would just harden more. Even so, April kept trying to get close. Despite Raph's concerns for her physical health. (And with Mikey's encouragement, because he was happy to enable the potentially dangerous behavior.)

One afternoon, she decided to bring a ton of her Jupiter Jim comics to read. The boys needed a break from watching their somewhat-volatile-yet-severely-wounded brother, and April knew he wouldn't talk to her. So, once she settled down in her chair a few feet away from the bed where Leo was scowling, she pulled out the comic she'd left off on: Jupiter Jim Breaks Newton's Fourth Law, Volume 8.

After a few minutes of reading, April couldn't help but notice a change in Leo out of her peripheral vision. He wasn't staring at her anymore, but at her comic. This glare wasn't full of discontent and uncertainty. Instead, it was filled with emotions he was trying (and failing) to hide- curiosity and excitement.

“You read Jupiter Jim?”

Leo was surprised by the sudden question and whipped his gaze away, a slight flush coming to his cheeks. “No.”

April's journalism senses were kicking in. There was a story here. “Why not?”

“Things like that are…” Leo's posture tightened, almost as if the thing he was about to say wasn't what he believed, “useless distractions.”

“I don't think so,” April said, shifting her chair a little closer to the bed. “I think it's important to have distractions sometimes. Y'know, during finals, when you're sick, when you've got a broken arm…” Subtly, April started slipping the comic in her hands to the bed. “You can read it, if you want.”

“No. I can't.”

Leo looked surprisingly aggressive when he responded. He seemed to catch his unwarranted anger and mumbled, “I still haven't read 6 or 7.”

“Oh!” April sat up straight and grabbed her bag from the floor. “I've got the whole arc up to 9 in here, I thiiink-” Once she had fished out the comics she was looking for, she placed them on the corner of the bed by Leo's feet.

The slider stared at the comics like they'd offended him.

“...well?”

“I-I can't. I can't hold them with my arm-”

“I can hold it for you!” April said. “I can turn the pages whenever you need.”

Leo finally looked back at April with that trademark scowl he always had. “What's your game, woman?”

April smiled. “No games, just trying to make you feel comfortable in your new home.”

Leo huffed. “This isn't my home.”

“It's where your family is, isn't it? Isn't that what matters?” April asked genuinely.

Leo looked back down at the comics. His eyes softened while the rest of his expression remained, and he picked Volume 6 up with his good arm. He opened it and silently began to read.

They both sat and read for a while. April noticed Leo struggling to turn pages sometimes, but she didn't dare try to help him. She thought he might bite her hand if she did. He was still scowling at the comic as he read, but it looked less like a scowl of anger and more one of concentration.

When he got done with Volume 6, April spoke. “So, who's your favorite character?”

“...JJ, obviously.” Leo slowly reached out and grabbed the next volume.

“Seriously? That's so basic.”

Leo scoffed. “Really? Then who's your favorite character?”

“Atomic Lass, obvi,” April said, flipping her hair for emphasis.

“Atomic Lass?! Her personality is literally just ‘woman’.”

“Uh, yeah, and that's the point?! Atomic Lad is just ‘man’. Haven't you watched Jupiter Jim on the Atomic Sub-Moon?”

Leo's shoulders lowered. “...watched?”

April sprung up and put her arms on the bed, looking down at Leo in shock. “YOU'VE NEVER WATCHED A JUPITER JIM MOVIE?!”

“NO?! THEY MAKE THOSE?!”

“THAT'S IT!” April grabbed her bag from the floor and moved it over to the side of Leo's bed. “You, keep reading. I'll get one of the boys to watch you. I need to head home and get my box set. We are having a movie night. Understand?!”

“Y-yes ma'am!”

“We can start with Last Trip to the Moon 1, but then we are watching Atomic Sub-Moon, I DO NOT care if the context is lost, you'll figure it out.”

“O-okay?!”

“RAPH!”

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

“So… the real Atomic Lad and Atomic Lass are dead?!”

“Yes! And the Atomic Lad and Lass we know are-”

“People carrying on the legacy, who the Atomic people believe are still the originals?!”

“YES! That's why they never use their real names, that's why-”

“Why they act like Barbie and Ken for space…”

“Now you get it!” April leaned back into her bean bag and put her arms behind her head. The movie night had gone way better than expected. They had to set up the best pillow pile they could, since they didn't have a sofa big enough for everybody. In the end, April and Leo stayed in bean bags and watched the movies while the others went about their day. It took a minute for Leo to get into it, but once the moon buggy showed up, he was hooked. For the first time, April saw a child in Leo. 

“So, have I won you over with an emotional, heart breaking backstory?” April asked slyly.

“Uh, no.”

April's eyes snapped to the slider. “WHAT?! What do you meeean?! I don't get how you like JJ more than Atomic Lass!”

“Well, he's the main character for a reason, for one.” Leo took another bite of the pizza slice he had been eating. “And second, he's the one who always gets everyone out of the bad stuff. He's the hero, and he isn't scared to sacrifice for his crew.”

“But, consider this, Atomic Lass has a giant rocket powered hammer, Leo.”

“JJ doesn't need a weapon. He's got the nerve pinch technique.”

“They never use the nerve pinch technique, though!” April whined.

“That doesn't mean he doesn't have it!”

“I never thought someone could be as dorky as April,” Raph said from where he stood a few feet away from the bean bag setup. “And yet, here we are.”

“Wh- dorky?!” Leo scoffed, looking at Raph incredulously.

“Yeah, dorky!” Mikey popped out from behind Raph's shoulder. “Y'know, nerdy? Geeky? Criiinge?”

Leo's face flushed and he curled in on himself, stammering.

“Hey, y'all are just jealous that we're bonding,” April defended. “If you gave JJ a chance, you'd like it too.”

Raph and Mikey both shut up quick. April waved them off, and they hurried out to the kitchen again, saying they were “getting more snacks”.

Now that they were alone, April looked over at Leo again. “They're stupid. Can't appreciate good media.”

“Good media?” Leo asked. “You mean B-Movies and old comics?”

“Yeah, man.” April grabbed a blanket and tossed it over at Leo, making him fumble to keep it off his face with his good arm. “It makes you feel good, doesn't it?”

Leo looked down and contemplated. “I mean… yeah. But I-”

“Shouldn't?”

Leo took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“You don't have to worry about what you should or shouldn't do here, Leo,” April said, sitting more upright to look at Leo better. “You do what you want. What makes you feel good. That's all you should worry about when you're home. Doing what you want and feeling good.”

Leo turned away, looking at the TV, paused at the end of the credits.

“If it means anything, this really made me feel good,” April said. “It's cool to have somebody to talk about ‘nerd stuff’ with. And I'm glad you liked the movies. Atomic Sub-Moon is one of my favorites. Not as good as Pluto Vacation 4, but good.”

“There's more?” Leo asked timidly.

“Oh, there's loads more!” April grinned. “There's like a jillion Last Trip to the Moons, there's Jupiter Jim and the Overly Complicated Magic System, Jupiter Jim Squared Minus One, Jupiter Jim Breaks into Federal Prison, there's tons! We can have more movie nights, if you want.”

Leo looked at the blanket laying over him, grabbing it and rubbing it between his fingers. “I think… I think I want that.”

April pumped her fist. “Sweet! This means I've still got time to win you over to the Atomic Side.”

Leo let a single laugh escape his lips. “Yeah, not happening. Jim is the best, I don't care what you say. Even Red Fox is better than Atomic Lass.”

“AH! HOW DARE YOU?!” April stood up and looked down at Leo. “Just you wait, nonbeliever. Just wait until I show you the Atomic Lass spinoff comic. Or the Atomic Lass movies. You will change.”

“I wouldn't bet on it.”

“Oh YEAH?! I will bet on it. I'll bet on it so hard, you can call me Troy Bolton.”

Leo's eyes nervously shifted from side to side, centering back on April. “...who?”

“...YOU'VE NEVER SEEN HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL?!”

“NO?!?”

“RAPH!”

○●○●○●○

Yippee! Part 2! Part 3 is giving me more... issues... so it might take a minute to come out. But its coming! 🟪🐢

I really leaned into Leo's inner dorkiness here. I just thought him and April bonding over their obsession with an insane astronaut man was so cute. <3 (This is also why I'm so excited for the rest of Leo's arc in the actual comic! GAH!!!)

Congrats to everyone who won the first round of @tmntaucompetition voting! Very excited for the next round coming up :)

Part 3 -> 💜

#tmnt #tmnt au #rottmnt #tmnt fanfiction #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt au propaganda #tmnt separated au #separated au #tmnt leo #tmnt april #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #twig writes

[suzukiblu]

Five headcanons from the obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU for Paradox. Decided to spend these on a bit of a “word of god” peek into Kon’s current state of mind post-museum/dinner/planetarium, haha. 

Kon is pan and has known this about himself for at least a few months now. Was his gay awakening in any way related to any weird situations involving any princely beastmen who adopted him as a pet while he was a feral amnesiac (no I’m not in romantic love with that specific story arc, why do you ask?)? No comment. Ever. He is not publicly out due to feeling like the conversation would just be too awkward. Specifically the conversation with SUPERMAN would be too awkward. “Hey Kal, so how about that whole concept of sexuality being, uh, genetic . . . ?” Nope. No. No way. That conversation is NOT happening. 

Buuuuut Kon was also not even SLIGHTLY concerned about Tim outing him when he got weird over Tim making the joke about not being able to explain him to his dad, he was just self-consciously assuming that Tim meant he didn’t WANT to explain him to his dad. “Self-esteem”?? What is this “self-esteem” of which you speak???? 

I cannot exaggerate how Not Used to being pursued Kon is. He has never been the pursued one. Ever. Flirting/dating is a contest and a chase and a test and he is ALWAYS the one who’s supposed to be proving himself to someone. That is just how it is supposed to–wait what do you mean you wanna ask HIM out, attractive person?? WIthout him even really DOING anything first?? Does not compute. Does not compute whatsoever. 

Kon is, however, still MUCH more comfortable with the idea of being pursued as a datemate than being pursued as a friend. Like, there’s a script for that he can figure out, and a transactional setup he can follow. The friend idea, though? Nooooot so much, no. Not at all. The friend idea is confusing as fuck, especially when it’s not just CASUAL as fuck. It makes much more sense to him that someone wants into his pants than just wants to hang OUT with him. Just SO much more. 

. . . wait Tim didn’t try to get them a motel room or anything for after their museum/dinner date? Like, he just planned ANOTHER activity to do together that he thought Kon would like? Like–he went to all this trouble to take him somewhere nice and then DIDN’T try to fuck him as an ingrained part of that “nice”? Like, that was just not in his plan, somehow? What the fuck?!?? THIS IS THE WRONG KIND OF TRANSACTIONAL.

#paradox #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon #meta ecetera