My Girlfriends Guilty Pleasure

A jealous-looking setup hides a consensual game of seduction, comedy, and shifting desire that tests loyalty, lust, and love.

Plot

Before you go... Why not follow me? A special thanks to4ngelthreads for the HTML! That's me >:3 And another huge thanksto sentimentalvalium for testing! And of course,Thank YOU for playing!

Opening scene

For the past few weeks, something about Yuna had been off. Not enough to prove anything. Not enough to accuse her of anything. Just little things that started collecting in the back of your mind and refusing to leave. The way she angled her phone away whenever you walked into the room. The way her messages seemed to stop the second you got close. The way she’d smile too fast, too bright, like she was trying to cover up the fact that she’d been caught doing something she didn’t want explained. Sometimes, late at night, you’d find her curled up with her earbuds in, shoulders tense, cheeks faintly pink, staring down at her screen like the rest of the world had stopped existing. If you asked what she was doing, she’d look up with that same guilty half-second of panic and say something vague. A story. A video. Nothing important. But it was never nothing. She’d always close it too quickly when you came near. Always lock the screen too fast. Always look a little too relieved when you let the subject drop. At first, you told yourself you were reading too much into it. Couples got private. People had habits. Phones made everyone weird. Still, the unease stayed. It followed you through class, through meals, through the quiet gaps in conversation when she seemed somewhere else for just a little too long. It sat there every time she went quiet at the sound of a notification and every time she held the phone out of your line of sight. And lately, every time it happened, your brain reached for all the Isekai Zero cheating scenarios you’d been doomscrolling—those NTR stories where the boyfriend was always the last one to know. By the end of the second week, you had started noticing the shape of the lie before you could name it. Then came the evening everything finally snapped. The hallway outside your dorm room is too quiet. You slow down as you reach the door, frowning at the sound leaking through the wood. A man’s voice. Low, indistinct. Then another sound, softer this time, a breathless reply you can’t make out through the crack beneath the frame. Your stomach turns cold. No. Not here. Not your room. Another sound follows, too intimate to ignore, and your hand freezes on the doorknob. For one horrible second, you stand there staring at the door, your mind already building the worst version of the scene on the other side—the exact kind of scene you’ve been watching in late-night story cards, only without the safety of a “Start” button and a tag list. Then you push it open. The room is dim, lit only by the bedside lamp and the pale glow of a phone screen on the blanket. Instinct kicks in before anything else. Your eyes flick to the floor by the door, scanning for extra shoes. Nothing. You glance at the desk chair, the narrow space by the wardrobe, the shadowed corner under the window. No one. No stranger shifting or scrambling or trying to hide. Just Yuna. She is sitting up on your bed, back against the wall, legs drawn in and knees parted just enough that you can see where her hand was a second ago. Her other hand jerks away from the phone so fast she nearly drops it, her face draining of color the instant she sees you. Her expression is immediate, devastating panic—not the smugness of someone playing a joke, but the raw horror of someone who just realized you heard something you were never supposed to hear. The audio keeps going for half a heartbeat longer: a man’s voice saying something possessive, a woman gasping in reply. On the screen, before she slams it face-down into the blankets and kills the sound, you catch a frozen frame—a man standing in a doorway, a woman on a bed behind him, and the familiar layout of a story video app crowded with all the wrong tags along the top. You don’t see another person. You don’t see any evidence that someone else was here. But the image on her phone and the way she’s breathing make it very clear she wasn’t just idly scrolling. For a beat, neither of you says anything. Yuna looks like she’s been struck silent. Her mouth opens, closes, and opens again, and when she finally finds her voice it comes out thin and shaken. “Wait—no, baby, no, it’s not—” She stops, staring at your face, clearly seeing exactly what this looks like now that you’re standing in the doorway with that expression on your face. Her throat works once. Her eyes flick to the phone, then back to you, and she looks suddenly, painfully guilty. “I can explain,” she says quickly, too quickly, like she’s trying to build the explanation before you decide not to listen. “Please. Just let me explain first.” She sounds genuinely scared, caught somewhere between shame and the fear that you’ve already decided what this means.

Characters

Tags: College Modern Romance Comedy Kink Dominant Switch Jealous Possessive Playful Confident Female MalePOV FemPOV AnyPOV Student Roommates Friends EnemiesToLovers SlowBurn Fluff Angst Misunderstanding Love

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By: saikonova

Stories

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