Pink

Yizhuo doesn’t know why the fuck you’re dating that stupid bitch.

Like, seriously? Out of everyone, you’re in bed with her? The fucking pink-haired bitch with the most kissable Goddamn lips, thighs that could pass off as fucking earmuffs, and tits she could justsqueeze like lemo-

Okay, so maybe she sees what you see in the bitch, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it. And what the hell does the slut have that she doesn’t?

She’s got a pretty good pair of lips that she knows could take your soul away if she ever got the chance to go down on you—nine out of ten recommended—and while her tits aren’t as big as the bitch has it, Yizhuo still has quite the set that can most definitely wow you when you get a hold of them. Oh, and her ass, her fucking ass can honest to God choke you out if she ever decides to sit on your face.

Shit, she had pink hair too for like, two months, so why didn’t you try anything with her?

If she tried hard enough, she can be the cover girl for some fashion brand out there. She has class. Standards. Self-respect, dignity if she wants to push it, not like the bitch that everyone wants to bend over their desk.

Yizhuo’s smarter than the stupid idiot that can’t even do inferential statistics to save her life. She gets As on average, and she can talk your ass off about anything that wasn’t just about getting fucked on the daily.

She helped you understand what derivatives and limits are for calculus. And where was Barbie from Temu? Getting railed in the clinic, that’s where the hell she was.

Like, damn, she can cook real food. Not the instant noodle bullshit at the local convenience store or the quick sandwich that doesn’t even count. Yizhuo can cook the good shit. Hot pots, grilled pork, she can make salmon if you were into that. Food that’s made with love. Food you damn well deserve.

So what in the fuck is she missing?

Did she need to go back to dying her hair pink just so you can notice her? Did you like bigger tits? A fatter ass? Did Yizhuo need to make you lunch every damn day?

Was it because the free prostitute won the genetic lottery, because damn if the slut didn’t need makeup to look that fucking hot.

It was bullshit. She should be the one bragging all over campus, not the dumb bitch that stole you under her nose. Stupid whore doesn’t even treat you right, because if that wasn’t enough, she’s also a toxic piece of shit.

Yizhuo knows the rumors. About how the slut sleeps with practically everyone, from the math nerd, the volleyball star, the history professor, the fucking janitor. The campus mascot even got lucky, while wearing the fucking suit. She doesn’t know how the logistics of that would even work.

Yizhuo heard from Lia that a teacher caught Pinky and the Dean with the door open. Not closed, not locked. Open. Judging from the fact that nothing happened, she probably slept with the teacher too.

There’s even that one time where the dumbass set off the fire alarm in the middle of a quickie. How the hell does that even happen?

Speaking of alarms, Pinky’s a walking red flag, a red alert, a tactical nuke type of danger that screams typhoon siren sounds out of her ass, and she wears it like a medal. Why she’s proud of it, Yizhuo will never know. She gives props for confidence though.

And don’t even get Yizhuo started on all the exes that the bitch got bored of, or cheated on, or destroyed a perfectly happy relationship for a quick fling. Bitch is playing eenie-meenie-miney-mo at this point with how high her body count is. She’s a certified cum dumpster that’s free Twenty-Four-Seven.

She’s surprised that the slut hasn’t gotten a disease from the amount of people that’s gotten in and out of her.

You know all about it when she asked—totally not because she isn’t curious as to why you would try and date the walking condom—and all you had to say was-

“I don’t think she did all that.”

What the hell do you mean you don’t believe them, Yizhuo thinks, because everyone and their mother knows about what the hell the tramp’s done. Shit, the motherfucker has most likely fucked a mother too, if the rumor about her and the librarian was true; It probably is.

Was that it? Were you into bad bitches? Did you have that ‘I can fix her’ kink that always went wrong because this isn’t some movie that gives you those silly happy endings.

Then again, you were optimistic like that. So innocent, so sweet, Yizhuo could just pinch your cheeks because of how cute you are-

Hold on, does she need to do that too? Start wearing tight tops, start fucking everyone she sees in a five meter radius, holy fuck does she need to fuck the janitor?

She sure as shit wasn’t petty about it. Nope. Nada. No ma’am. She just doesn’t understand why you would look at someone like Pinky and not like her.

She’s been with you throughout everything, the highs and the lows, the in-betweens, the break ups—which, your relationship with that bitch will definitely end up on—yet, you don’t even see Yizhuo as something more.

She’s trying to be supportive about it like she always did, but that whore is really making it hard for her to root for the both of you. But as your best friend, your confidant, she would endure.

But if she sees you with that bitch one more damn time, she’s getting a flamer somewhere—she’ll make one herself if she has too—and turn this campus into a fire hazard.

Truth be told, it needs the cleansing after everything the human fleshlight has done on every surface imaginable. Desks, doors, public benches. She probably needs to burn the statue in the middle of the main hall too.

Okay, so maybe Yizhuo’s going off the deep end, but she swears that this is an extremely reasonable crashout, cause at this point, the campus wants to be burned. After everything its witnessed, she can consider it consensual arson, and she’s just there to get it started.

It would be so easy too. That Gauel chick from chemistry made some sort of homemade project last year, and she could probably make a copy-

“Hey!”

The shout made her snap her head so fast she got whiplash. Her mind’s still mentally noting all the things she needs before it registers who called her.

You. Standing there, all cute, that cheeky smile filling your face that makes her want to squeeze your face out because of how adorable you are.

Yizhuo has to dig her nails into her notebook to stop herself from just grabbing you and shoving her tongue down your throat.

And you don’t even know that you’re using that smile as a weapon because damn does that make her filthiest fantasies overwrite everything that she was thinking of from the last ten minutes. Shit, that smile’s enough to get her in the mood when her thighs unconsciously press together.

It would be so damn easy to just, like, take you right here, in the library where anyone can hear and everyone can look. Yizhuo sees the vision forming inside of her mind.

The way you’d wrap your lips around her pretty little fingers, throating two, no, three of them down and you’d fucking take it like the throat GOAT she imagines you are.

Then she would fuck your mouth with them while you’re on your knees, and you’d have your hands on her thighs, tears and spit spilling down your chest, messing up that snug little t-shirt you’re wearing.

God, Yizhou would suck the life out of you. First with your mouth after it’s been thoroughly used by her fingers. She’d explore every single inch of that mouth, and she’d get sloppy with it too. Nip at your plump fucking lips, lick the spit that’s dripping down your chin.

She’s getting wet at the thought of you moaning out her name.

She’d bend you over the table and spank that absolute dump truck of an ass you’ve got. Yizhuo wonders how much that juicy flesh would ripple every time she’d give each cheek a hard slap.

She would even get a handful of it, and she’d burn the feeling of that big, fat ass into her memory if she could.

She’d yank those jeans down your legs, give you another hard slap on that bare ass, and she’d go to town on you. But she’d go slow. Use her hands to get you all worked up, make you beg for her to use her pretty little mouth. And when she does, Yizhuo’s gonna savour the look on your face-

Wait. Since when did you have pink hair?

That threw her out of her daydreams, because last she checked, you had blonde hair. Now suddenly it’s this light pink that’s oddly similar to the slut you’re dating.

You’re still looking at her. Blinking, smiling, like you don’t have a fucking clue what was going on in Yizhuo’s mind, full of intrusive thoughts and debauchery all because of two completely different women.

“Eunha!” Yizhuo tucks a strand of hair back, giving you— her —a timid smile. “I…thought you had class.”

Jung Eunbi. Eunha, to those who know her. Yizhuo’s best friend. Also known as the love of her life.