#even though she's never done anything wrong ever in her life

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Corruption fic - First Preview

It’s me, ya girl, comin’ at ya with a little preview! No active warnings for this one ☺️

"That's it, I'm cuttin' you off for tonight," Husk said sternly, whisking away your unfinished glass of whiskey. You'd been at the bar for only an hour and you've already downed 5 full glasses.

"Noooo, Husk c'mon...I'm fffffiiiinnee," you babbled, trying to push your head from the countertop unsuccessfully.

It's been a few months since you arrived in Hell after an unfortunate accident that ended in your early demise. But being a devout believer, you were so sure that Heaven would be your final destination. How wrong you were. You woke up in the fiery pit confused and scared, your body had transformed into that of a demon; you had become something you had feared for your entire life. When you first heard about the Hazbin Hotel, you nearly jumped at the opportunity for redemption. If there was even the slightest hope of getting out of here, you were going to take it. But your situation was more than troublesome, considering how you led your life up on Earth. So most nights, you could easily be found sitting on a bar stool, trying desperately to drown your sorrows and distract yourself from the reality you'd found yourself in.

What's worse...not everyone here is evil. It was ingrained into you that everyone down here in Hell deserved to be, they had earned this punishment. But getting to know some of the other residents at the hotel, that couldn't have been further from the truth! Was everything you were taught just complete lie?! For Heaven's sake, Charlie, the literal princess of Hell, was the sweetest and kindest being you've ever had the pleasure of meeting! And Vaggie, a former angel, so devout to Charlie and her dream, you've never seen two people more in love. Angel, although a bit eccentric and over the top, cared deeply for his friends and was ready to fight for them at a moment's notice. It was all...not what you expected, and you had a very difficult time coping with everything that you had been thrust into.

"You're shit faced," Husk snapped back. "Look, I know you're havin' a hard time with all this. But drinking away your issues ain't gonna solve any of 'em. You need to sleep this off." He watched you stumble off the bar stool, your one foot catching the other, resulting in a rather pitiful fall onto the carpet. But you couldn't feel anything, the alcohol helped mask the pain you were sure to feel tomorrow. You couldn't help but giggle at your own clumsiness. "Oh, for fuck's sake..." Husk grumbled.

Before you could even attempt to pull yourself off the ground, you saw a pair of black boots approaching you in a rather hurried manner.

"Woah!" the voice exclaimed, "Are you alright? Here, let me help you!" In no time, your limp body went from lying on the lobby floor to being hoisted up and helped back onto the bar stool you fell from. You turned your head to see Lucifer's concerned face staring back at you. "Husk, what happened?"

"She's drunk," the cat demon explained, "I told her she was done drinkin' for the night and she ate shit trying to stand up. I was about to help her back to her room-"

All of a sudden, a shadowy presence started to form behind the bar. A static filled laugh was heard before Alastor had popped up, startling the bar tender. "Husker, my good man!," the radio demon bellowed, "it seems as though I am in need of your assistance."

"Fuck! Why can't you just walk in here like a normal fucking person?" Husk grumbled.

Alastor only responded with a light chuckle before fixing his attention on you. "My, my, what have we here?" Alastor taunted. You could have sworn you heard a low growl coming from Lucifer beside you. "I say, my dear, I've never seen you look worse than you do now. What a pity, all of those teachings really didn't help you in the long run, now did they?"

You felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes at Alastor's cruel words. If you were sober, you would have run the other direction as fast as you could. Alastor had been the other real soul you met who you knew with every fiber of your being belonged in this pit. But considering you had no inhibitions and clearly no chance of getting away, you picked your head up and slammed your fists on the table in righteous anger.

"Ohhh, eat shit youuuu *hic* smiling prick!" You tried to stand up once more, only for your legs to buckle underneath you. Luckily, Lucifer had caught you before your face had met with the carpet again. "I-I don't deserve this! 'Least I'm TRYING to redeem m'self!"

Alastor's malicious grin never faltered. "Oh, and what a fabulous job you're doing! I do wonder how a woman such as yourself has fallen so far from grace."

"Fuck off, radio freak," Lucifer snarled, barring his teeth and his eyes shifting to a deep crimson red and yellow.

“Oh, ho ho! Seems as though I’ve struck a nerve,” Alastor mocked. He made his way around the bar, now towering over you and the fallen angel. “Tell me, your highness, what is your fascination with this lost soul, hmm? I’m so utterly curious as to why you would give her the time of day when all she does is wallow in her self pity and-”

“I. SAID. FUCK. OFF.” the king spat, his eyes now changing into a solid red and his voice deepening to match his threat. Though your vision was hazy, you noticed his horns had bursted out from his temples. Whether it was the alcohol or something else entirely, your face suddenly felt very, very hot. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Despite the immense danger, Alastor could only muster a sly grin. “It’s very rude to ignore my question.”

“I don’t have to do anything for you! Or have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” The way Lucifer spoke sent a shiver down your spine. “The only reason that you’re not a mangled corpse on the ground right now is because of my daughter. So if you want to stay in one piece, I’d walk away right now if I were you…”

The two mens’ faces were just inches away from each other now. Alastor’s eye twitched as he glared back at Lucifer with pure distain. His eyes shifted to you only for a brief moment before standing up straight and smirking to himself.

“I suppose it really is no business of mine as to how you choose to mingle with the guests here,” the radio demon resolved. He turned around to walk away, but not before glancing at you once more over his shoulder. “They’re lost causes anyway. Come along, Husker!”

Lucifer’s demonic traits disappeared as Alastor finally left the parlor. “I hate that man.” He looked at Husk empathetically. “If I could break your arrangement with him, I would. I’m sorry. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” With that, Husk nodded and followed the radio demon down the hall, leaving you and Lucifer alone at the now empty bar.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #preview #my writing #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #everyone say hi to Alastor! He’s a bastard! Lol

[mieczyhale]

kaz supports women's rights, but he also supports women's wrongs. he's a big fan of women's wrongs

#specifically wrongs comitted by inej #even though she's never done anything wrong ever in her life #he knows this with his entire soulless husk and the cold dead heart within it and he loves her #kanej #kaz brekker #mygvposts #maison speaks

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Part I

1 2 3 4 5

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

''So you're just goin' to sit there and tell me that isn't my daughter.'' Simon says bluntly, tone even yet carrying a snark hidden that you came to listen so many times after working with him— never once directed at you until now.

''It's really none of your business, Ghost.'' You don't even spare a glance at him, simply looking at your little girl, fingers gently running through her short hair. She looks exactly like Simon, though that will never take away your love for her.

''You're not denyin' it.'' He hesitantly sits down next to you, secretly afraid you'll bite his head off. The glare you shoot his way is enough confirmation that you would if you could. You sigh softly, the air leaving your lungs before being sucked back in, not wanting to argue in front of your little girl despite her not understanding words yet.

''Well, what's it to you? Why do you need to know?'' I can't handle you leaving me again.

''Don't be like that.'' His tone is soft, almost pleading. It has been over a year since he broke up with you, yet that doesn't make the loss any easier, not now that he knows he has a daughter, no matter how much you tried to hide it from him.

''Why didn't you tell me?'' He asks gently, feeling like he's walking on eggshells. It's the first time ever he feels that way with you, and he doesn't blame you in the slightest. It takes a few seconds of you thinking before you answer.

''I was terrified of you choosing to walk away from her... to be a deadbeat. I didn't want to have that image of you, because that would have hurt more than the break up.'' Your voice is more calm, though for all the wrong reasons. The familiar tingling all over your nose is back, eyes stinging as you try to hold back tears, too prideful to cry in front of him again.

''That's what you think o' me?'' He replies in nothing but pure disbelief and slight disgust. He would never walk away from his child, no matter how much that would destroy all the walls he has been building for years, stones upon stones carefully piled on top of each other, so strong nothing could ever break through— until you came along.

''I was fucking scared, okay?'' You look away and wipe your eyes with one hand, the other one carefully supporting the neck of the baby on your lap. Simon sighs, his bare hand hesitantly reaching down to trace the features of the tiny girl, being careful with her as if she would break if he applied any pressure. He notices your eyes glued to his hand, eyebrows furrowed. He's about to move his hand away until you adjust the little girl so he can touch her face without the awkward angle.

''Give me one more chance. Please— please, let me be a father to her.'' Simon never begged for anything, not even when he was tortured for months to no end, drugged, beaten like a dog, yet here he is; begging his ex for a chance to keep the girl in his life. You don't reply.

''I'll do everything I can. What I should've done. I want to be here, please.'' He was so damn ready to get on his knees and beg if that's what it took for you to let him be involved in her life. He's not asking you to be together— he knows he doesn't deserve that chance.

''She's looking at you like she knows you.'' Your response is ominous to say the least. You want to deny him, to tell him he doesn't even deserve to be able to touch the little girl you birthed alone, that he doesn't deserve the chance at a family after he destroyed 4 years of a relationship because of the very same thing, but... your little girl is looking up at him with pure admiration and curiosity in her big brown eyes, her tiny hand struggling to hold one of his fingers. Growing up with a single parent yourself, you know she deserves better, and you're willing to put your pride and pain aside to make sure she gets the world.

''Okay.'' You reply after taking a deep breath, holding it into your lungs for what feels like forever, choosing to ignore the strong arms wrapping around you, bringing all three of you close. It feels... right.

[NEXT]

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #call of duty #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost x f!reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #ghost mw3 #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you

[tender-rosiey]

Hi hope you‘re doing well!!! I wanted to ask if you could write a scenario with Gojo and fem reader where she‘s lying on the bed reading and he wants her attention and she just grabs him and let‘s him cuddle her while she‘s reading I CAN‘T STOP THINKING ABT THIS

used to it — gojo satoru x gn!reader

despite all your complains, huffs, and eye rolls, you never truly found satoru’s affection bothersome. in fact, you found it very endearing and cute how he can be so openly infatuated with you.

in the beginning, you thought that perhaps his theatrics were blown out of proportion. that while yes he did want your attention, he surely didn’t want it that much.

but you were wrong, so very wrong.

you remember that one time you had left early to get some groceries, leaving satoru in the bed alone. in your defense, you were going as quickly as you could.

“I gotta go back before satoru realizes I am not in bed!”

you underestimated him. because the very moment he woke up, he looked around for you, under the bed, in the cupboards, and even in the chimney. his brows furrowed when there was no sign of you.

he whispered, eyes going through the room once again, but to no avail, “yn?”

his lips quickly formed into a pout and he whined—loudly, “y/n?!”

you instantly got a call from one very sad gojo satoru who was whining and complaining about how you left him all alone to fend for himself for hours and hours on end. you had checked the time right after that.

it had been 20 minutes.

anyways, you’re not new to gojo’s massive need for love and affection. you can also proudly say that you learned how to satiate him while not troubling yourself.

let’s take today as an example.

the new volume of your favorite book had finally dropped. so you sent a text to satoru telling him that you would be busy for tonight.

of course, that is unacceptable in his book so he told you that he would go to your house after he was done with his mission.

you were able to finish a couple of chapters before he finally burst through the door, exclaiming, “the world’s most eligible bachelor is here!”

you send a small smile his way and swiftly continue reading your book. he pouts, sulky about the lack of attention, “babe?”

“mhm?”

getting a mic out from god knows where, he clears his throat and delivers the best performance of his life, “I want your love and I want your revenge—“

silently, you pull him into your arms.

satoru tends to forget how strong you’re—especially because of all the things you go through as a sorcerer—,but he happily buries his face in the crook of your neck with a smile plastered on his pretty face, “you don’t want me to serenade you?”

you chuckle, “not really, and with bad romance out of everything?”

he gasps, offended, “I will have you know that lady gaga is an absolute icon!”

with a roll of your eyes, you continue silently reading while resting the book on his back—you doubt it weights anything to him though.

a few beats pass before satoru gazes up at your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “how was your day, pretty?”

“good,” you murmur then you kiss the top of his head and push it back to your chest. he welcomes it before he slightly turns his head and mumbles, “okay, so I should shut up?”

a giggle escapes your lips as you nod and start carding your fingers through his hair. he hums, murmuring a small ‘i love you’, before falling silent once again.

you assume that he is asleep. a soft sigh leaves your lips as you hug him a little tighter and gladly continue reading your book.

a grin breaks out on your face; you’re finally getting to the good part!

you quickly turn the page and your eyes dart to the beginning of the page in unbelievable speed. a gasp almost escapes your lips as you realize that the character has—

“y/n, how many chickens would it take to be able to kill a lion?”

the character has had enough of the husband and is about to murder him in his sleep.

“I mean like have you ever thought about—wait, babe, I am sorry, don’t hurt me—“

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk gojo x y/n #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fluff

[iznsfw]

Trouvaille

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 1 - Kwon Eunbi

IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

21,183 words

Categories | best friend!Eunbi, facefucking, cum swallowing, against the wall, anal

The most unrealistic thing about this, besides getting to fuck Eunbi, is that she has sex with glasses on.

“Two things. I need you to tell me two things before I kill you in front of everyone. And trust me, I’m very good with a gun.”

“Oh no,” you say grumpily, and a little more sarcastically, while you're gathering your things into the gray backpack you’ve used through its tatters. “How will I ever see the light of day again?”

Eunbi barely looks intimidating anyway in the toga that sags around her small body. The fabric’s a blackish-blue waterfall that drags on the ground. You’re surprised mud hasn’t done its wicked way with it. It began raining earlier, see, and now, except for the mud as evidence, it's as if it never happened. The heat has become too much.

Everything is too much.

“You won’t,” Eunbi says, tongue between her teeth, “but save yourself for once. Tell me what’s going on.”

Right above the garment, her long tresses fall over her shoulders. Earlier last year, she had it cut and everyone fell for her instantly. But you’ve always taken the speedy growth of her hair a victory for your side.

No victories right now though. It’s supposed to be a grand day—the scam that is college has finally run its course, and today you ought to celebrate and throw your cap in the air like everyone else. 

But you’re still completely, royally pissed off.

Turn your back. Clear answer, with other possible variations that basically say the same thing: I’m not telling you shit. Nope. Stop bugging me. Brat.

She follows, and she’s a shadow behind you who’s too pretty to be one. But you lengthen your steps. Hope she doesn’t pursue you, but she’s always done that. Since you were kids on the playground, she’s never let you deal with things on your own. It’s forever been Eunbi will help you, Eunbi will stay with you, Eunbi will talk for you. 

Why must that knowledge swirl a puzzling mix of emotions in you? She has not once left you alone, and yet here you are, forcing her to do so.

A pair of leather shoes and high platforms (which give way to the illusion that she’s barely shorter than you) pave through the cobblestone ground of the campus you’ll never dream of returning to. You say that yet you and Eunbi are the only other few graduates remaining on the premises. Why? It’s not like you have anything or anyone to be melancholic about.

She walks in the corner of your line of vision. Alright, maybe someone. 

You’ve tried to avoid eye contact but you turn to her anyway. She’s always been this easy on the eyes, even when you were high schoolers with wild hormones and sensitive young hearts. Sharp nose, intelligent brown eyes, and pretty smile—she could’ve been a real heartbreaker back then if she weren’t hanging out with you. She could’ve been everything, because this town is too simple, too small for a girl of her caliber. 

Turn your eyes away before she could notice. Broken out of your train of thought, you start to notice how your bag knocks your spine repeatedly. Painfully. With the way your notebooks from years and years ago are bumping around in there, you’d think you were carrying a luggage good enough to give you a week’s worth of supplies.

“Ugh.” Eunbi pinches her nose irritably, allows the sounds to continue for a good three seconds, then pulls the source off you. "Dumbass. Alright, now tell—”

“No. Become a nun. Live a good life. Go eat ice cream with Chaewon or something.”

“She likes mint chocolate, so no. I’m never eating that shit.”

“You’ll live.”

“Oh, I will”—she taps your bag, smiling evilly—”and I’ll take the bag with me.”

You sigh loudly. “Eunbi.” 

Oh no, don’t get it wrong: she’s always like this. It's not just today that she pushes your buttons, catty with her negotiations and even more so when you turn them down. She discreetly takes control with a sleight of hand, and you never see it coming. You wish luck to whoever smug kindergartner she’ll be an educator to in the future. She’ll quickly show him his place, just like she’s shown you yours.

“What?” she says with a derisive smirk. She pulls on the arms of the backpack to boost its weight up. “No tell, no bag.”

At this point—

“I don’t give a fuck, Eunbi,” you spit. "You have bigger things to worry about.” 

Pause. You briefly consider telling her how your grand day was shattered by your own self and thinking, but you don’t want to bother her. She's your best friend. You shouldn't be making her listen to your woes.

Close your mouth; you didn’t even realize it was hanging open for a while. 

You exhale through your nostrils. “Do yourself a favor and take care of something else.”

You walk away. That was supposed to be the end of the story. It's the hashtag at the end of an article, the death of the conversation. But wide strides can’t keep her from coercing an answer out of you. 

You know that because she’s suddenly pulled you by the wrist then so close to herself that even your cloaks can’t bar yourselves from each other. Her body presses below your chest. Her stern eyes hush you. You can quite literally feel her breathing.

“I think I can handle it,” she says, gaze steady and chin lifting, “much more if it’s you.”

Okay, so maybe you underestimated how intimidating she can get. 

She’s a small girl, lying her way into five foot three, but she’s surprisingly strong. You’re more than aware of that to avoid testing if her palm on your heart is sturdy. Her fierce glare, needling into your integrity, is something new. Frightening, too. Her jaw—(oh, and you can never give that perfectly cut line it’s incredibly lucky to possess a normal glance)—is tight with determination. 

For a moment, you think you know how to speak but just forgot to completely.

You get the hang of it after a few seconds when you crack a smile. “Can’t tell you anything if you got your hands on me, little raindrop.”

Eunbi squints her eyes, then folds her arms neatly. “A silver rain drop. And I’m not little, I’m one sixty flat.”

“Take that cap off and we’ll see.”

You’re not exactly a top student, but you’re smart enough to run away before she whacks you with her rolled diploma.

-

(It somehow lightens your mood, because if there’s anything you love more than your phone and street food, it’s Eunbi’s tiny, challenging self trying to one you up. Her light punches are like package peanuts trying to make a dent in you. And it’s just so adorable seeing her face turn dark as she aims for you, and fails.

Oh, and it’s all in good banter. It wouldn’t be a friendship if those jabs were spiteful. There are a lot of relationships out there, both platonic and not so, where insults are masked behind “jokes” and jokes behind insults—you’re glad that doesn’t count for you and her.

But even if we’re to say that Eunbi’s cornering you to the wall, suddenly having grown taller than you, and snarls, with a knife to your throat, “Say good night forever,” you’d kiss her and tell her: “I won’t let the bedbugs bite.”)

-

"Two, please. Thank you."

Slip the paper bills in the vendor's brown, rough hand and slap yours back on Eunbi's shoulder. You’re still surprised at the bareness you feel, then you remember she's since stuffed her toga in your backpack because of the heat. Now she’s wearing a sundress that flows around her like water. 

Look at her discreetly. You’re wondering how she managed to hide all… that. The fabric fits and compliments her figure too much to go unnoticed. You have to pretend to be curious about the boiling process of the eomuk again to avoid staring at her slim arms.

"I still don't get why you call me that," she says. She pulls the drooping strap of her dress back up her shoulder, and you swear you’re gonna lose it. 

Take deep breaths. You can do this. "Call you what?" 

"You know." She daintily taps away a bead of sweat from her forehead and looks up at you. "'Little raindrop.'"

You return her stare eye for an eye. You have to admit it was a feeble attempt. Whenever you look at her, you're overcome with the realization that she's just so beautiful. Her brows are naturally curved and shaded, and there’s just the tiniest dimple at the side of her mouth when she smiles hard. Who in the world just has a face like that? 

But you can't dwell on it. It's a dangerous premise, and you're a rightful coward.

"Ah." Your fingers tap comfortable rhythms on her skin. "Because… hm. Bi means rain, right? And you’re small, a.k.a little. So there you have it."

A crowd sifts through the streets and roads opposite your university, and occasionally daring motorists. Graduates fill the sidewalks to purchase street food. It's been this cramped since forever. You can't believe this is the last time you'd ever see this commotion: nameless faces that have matured through the years occupying every space, scentful smoke that wafts in the air, and, of course, the familiar sight of these stalls on wheels catering to young'uns like you short on cash.

Now that you think it over once more, perhaps you'll miss this place more than you thought you would.

"Well, would you say it, uh…” Eunbi taps her chin. “Hm, derogatively?"

"Oh, come on," you say, shaking your head emphatically, "I would never."

"Good, because I just lost your bag."

Your eyelids suddenly stop drooping. Realize only this second that you haven't felt torn fabric on the shoulder you’ve been caressing.

"Eunbi, what the—"

"Kidding, it's right here." Eunbi lifts it up in the air cheekily. "Gotcha."

"Oh, fuck off," you groan. Push her away, but not so much that she's out of arm's length. There are people whose intentions aren't so nice in this crowd. 

Eunbi's adorable, you have to admit. Every day that rises is April Fools Day for her. She loves pulling pranks on you and commits to the bit perfectly. It’s been like this since… forever. It’s like you were born knowing her. 

With all that fake innocence on her face when she tells you a white lie for her prank’s sake, she could be an actress. For a moment, you wonder what you'll do if she does become one, if she finds out that she's more than this place is worth. Would she leave you with no warning? Make a name for herself and never bother to reach out?

You gulp a little. That could happen even without the entertainer job. You've been friends with her for ages. One day, she'll grow tired of you and seek brighter horizons. Finer places. Better men.

"You alright there?" Eunbi asks. 

You envy her for a lot of things—her charm, her easy way of making new friends, those legs that she’s worked hard to tone. But right now, you’re jealous because she isn’t privy to all those things that run in your mind about wanting to do things to her. Stupid things like hold her hand, tell her something you shouldn’t, the works.

Jealousy won’t amount to anything, so you just nod. It's not like there's much to say that you won't be embarrassed of saying later.

"Well—"

Just in time, the kind vendor raises two eomuks from the bubbling broth. The delicious scent makes your mouth water.  "There you go," he says in his usual jolly way that always makes you laugh. "Congrats on the graduation!"

"Thanks!" Eunbi says, always the first to be grateful. She takes hers and the aforementioned dimple on her cheek shows itself again. Your chest squeezes.

"Don't forget me when you're rich." His jovial face almost looks sentimental. "One for the gentleman and one for his girlfriend."

Your smile fades into a nervous line. "She's not my girlfriend," you say carefully.

It's more embarrassing each time you have to say it. Are you too close with her? Probably; your arm is always around her and she's one of the few consistent friends you have. She's been by your side longer than anyone. People are gonna think something’s going on along the way.

The vendor nods mockingly, as if to say “yeah, sure,” and winks at Eunbi. She winks back, but fails to halfway—her left eye scrunches up.

"Don't listen to him," you tell her. You walk away from the crowd; it's suddenly begun to feel warmer than usual. "He likes to play around a lot. Even in first year he was like that.”

“Eh. It's not like he said anything bad.” She sinks her teeth into the skewered food and shrugs. 

"It's invasive."

"Invasive," she repeats thoughtfully, (chewing thoughtfully, too.) “Okay. But how?”

"Because… ‘cause…" Suddenly, you find there's no appropriate reason you could dream up to justify your uneasiness. "It's, you know, strange when people do that."

“I don’t mind, honestly.”

You find that you swallow on nothing rather than the delicious treat you’re holding.

The place becomes too much, with the heated smoke eventually making Eunbi hack a cough and the sweaty people surrounding you more than they should. So you squeeze between them with her and go on for a resolute walk down the road. Just a few blocks up ahead, you can see the sun setting. It reflects back and pours a hefty amount of light on your figures. Your shadows synchronize with your steps.

“You don’t?” you ask, just to make sure you heard her right. The possibility of her being so comfortable with you that she isn’t bothered to be called yours… it’s a lot to handle. She shouldn’t just place that on your shoulders and expect you not to buckle.

Try to keep your knees from folding at the idea as you walk down the familiar streets. The roads reside in a subdivision that's humbler than the others, hence the houses being small and more trees standing above you. But you don't mind—you need a break from the urban place anyway.

Your university stays a little near the border between them. That's why more street food stalls come up to view and a few thrift stores. Is this the last time you'll come here?

The last time you'll see her?

“No. Why would I? Alright, now that we’ve got things all nice and settled…” Eunbi takes your wrist. Tightly. She's not going anywhere, and neither are you. “Back to telling.”

“Telling you what?”

“You really wanna play dumb with me?” She presses the point of her skewer to your stomach, seizing you by the waist. “Get those words out. Now.”

"Hit me."

"Two things, right? So answer me." Eunbi's fingers wrap tighter around your flesh. "Why were you crying in the bathroom? What happened?"

Oh.

That.

You're quiet. You look only forward, not daring to meet Eunbi's eyes. If anything, the stick could dig into your guts and it would be infinitely better than having to admit you’re weak. You’ll have to tell her one day. You’ll have to admit that you’re not a better guy just because you’re the only one who has the balls to approach her—you’re just like the rest of them. Nothing special. Grades barely there. Average, probably not even so. Everything but nothing.

“I wasn’t crying,” you say. You can’t remember what happened anyway, but saying what you do leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

The eomuk stick drops to the ground with barely a click. “Are you lying?”

It’s rare that her voice gets solemn. It’s less rare that you rush behind words to cover yourself.

You fix the mortarboard on her head so that it doesn’t slip past her brows. The staff didn’t quite take her measurements properly, so you had to tip the cap backwards. Good enough. “Think you can figure that one out yourself, Eunbi.” 

You give her a look that tells her all that she needs to know. It’s not like you can explain properly with this state of mind. What else can you say? 

What else can she say?

Perhaps:

“Please.” 

Everything stops.

Eunbi takes your hand, which looks large in comparison to her pale one, and traces a finger along your knuckles. Look down at them—those are the days that’ll go by, the months that’ll lose themselves into the void of timeless time. It could never be the same if fate wills itself to change one of these days, and you wouldn’t even know it. Not even a warning. 

“It’s just me.” Her voice thins, and you figure out that she’s sort of like you, too: it’s not rare for her to hide behind words and wit. “I’m your friend. You can tell me anything. Please tell me what happened, okay? I hate seeing you get upset.”

You wish you could tell her that it’s the same on your end. Eunbi’s the girl you let climb in your lap after a thunderstorm provoked her, the girl you comforted after she had her heart broken by the man she was convinced was the one. Through it all, you tried to be strong for her, but there’s little foundation to build from. 

The side of your mouth twitches upward. “Do you now?” 

Eunbi’s shoulders descend as they release a tired little sigh. She nods, refusing to say anything until you take the lead.

“Well, if you want to hear the whole story,” you say as you ring an arm around her, “I was already having a pretty shit day to begin with.”

“Why?” She chews on her lip. Pink gets on her teeth.

“Didn’t feel like I deserved to graduate.”

See, there are a lot of justifications as to why you didn’t deserve to go on stage and receive your diploma. You aren’t worthy of this toga and hat when you’ve barely accomplished anything compared to the others. They’ve already scored internships and some even sealed some higher positions in well-off companies. You, on the other hand, haven’t got anything going on for you.

That rings true for as far back as first year. You cheated (rarely) but still barely passed. Studied but never got the answers right for the test. Kept a strong face but you’re still in pieces on the inside. Now that you’re graduating, you’re the same guy after all that time.

“I had a… very weird time in there trying to get myself together,” you say. “I did nothing to make mom proud. I just bullshit my way through college.” 

“Doesn’t everyone?” Eunbi hums quietly. Is that her side pressed to your hip? You suck in a breath.

“I mean, sure, but look at how far they got. I’m still in square one.”

“Different speeds for different people,” she says wisely, looking down at her shoes that begin their steps at the heel. “You don’t have to beat yourself up for going at your own pace.”

You chuckle deprecatingly. “When I’m a dumbass, I should.”

“You’re not.”

“You literally admitted you had a hunch I was stupid when I thought your name was Geumbi.”

“No, no, that was a long time ago. I was like, fourteen. It wasn’t my fault. And neither was it yours.”

She steals a bite from your food. A withdrawal from her as she finishes her robbery and yet you bring her back. Do it by stopping, then wiping away the broth on her lower lip with your thumb. Where did that come from? 

Eunbi’s frozen. For a moment, she says nothing. She pauses, then looks up at you. Just a simple look from her makes you weak. There are galaxies in her eyes.

“Actually,” says Eunbi, hand floating to your wrist—her voice is soft, “you’ve got to stop thinking everything’s your fault.”

Where should your touch go when all it yearns for is hers?

It's easier said than done, too. Therapy fills your brokenness yet it drains out anyway. All those methods and you can't stick to one. Everything bad that happens is your fault. It's like you're connected to them all.

“I’ll try." Your words barely pass audibility. Should you be ashamed? "I don’t like this either.” 

Eunbi presses her lips to the back of your hand then goes on strolling like she didn’t just save you from another spiral. Haughtiness rides her tone. Yep, she knows she’s your anchor. “You can start by carrying your own bag instead of me doing—” She pauses. All the sass is gone; just pure fear. “Shit.”

Your forehead creases and you look around. Nothing out of the normal, just the birds of seldomness and trees that sway with the wind. “What?”

“Don’t be mad at me.” Eunbi bites her lip anxiously. “Promise me. Please.”

“What is it?”

She tells you.

-

“Eunbi lost your backpack?” 

For the hundredth time: “Yes.”

"Like actually?"

"Yep."

“With the notes and sketches you had? What the hell?”

“God, you don’t have to rub it in like that.” You navigate through the streets and try to catch onto anyone perhaps holding a familiar satchel. Nobody fits the description. “We didn’t notice until we were alone.”

You and Eunbi do the very thing characters in horror movies shouldn’t do: you split up. She returns to the food vendors to ask around. They’d cater better to a face like that. You’re left to do the hard work and follow random people to see if they’ve brought away a bag. You really should have reversed roles, but Eunbi’s gone now. You can’t call it off.

The crowds are starting to dissipate, but that doesn’t make your hunt for your bag easier. Whoever stole it must have thought it was his lucky day. That shit was thrifted off a store, but it could sell for thousands if refined just right. 

All those documents, lecture takeaways, pencils… 

It’s not like they matter anymore. You wouldn’t dream of going back to school, so they won’t have much use in the long run. But those things played a major part in your life, especially in college. Losing it feels like missing a piece of a puzzle you spent nights completing.

“That’s so damn irresponsible of her. Not like her, too. She's a fucking—”

“—adult. Like me. Yes. We’ve gone over this.”

You must look like a local pervert right now, peering at people’s lower sides in search of your treasure. You hope they don’t get you wrong. Women are already giving you dirty looks though. Shit, you’re going nowhere with this.

“You don’t have to defend her every time she does something,” mutters your friend Sakura from the other line. Her accent has lost its origins a long time ago. Now, it carries teasing scorn.

Where the fuck could your bag be? Turn your head to the right, then to the left. There you go, you’re a fucking bobblehead doll. Feel even more ridiculous. It’s all a little humiliating, exposing a vulnerability to people you don’t know. Hey, look at me! I can’t find something important! And I can’t ask you for help because that would mean I’m a shameless piece of shit with no dignity and I’m too childish to graduate and—

“I’m not defending her, Miyawaki,” you blurt out, a little louder than you’d like. More dirty and judgmental looks. Always the centerpiece, you, and for all the wrong reasons. “Go back to gaming, can you?”

“Ha. You’re the one who called me and said, ‘Oh no, I’m with Eunbi again and I’m so in love with her!’” Sakura lets out a smug little laugh. “Just ask her out, dumbass. That way you won’t have to play attorney all the time.”

“I’m not asking her out, dumbass. She's just a friend.”

“Ask her out or Hyewon will. Hyem’ll say shit like, ‘She can lose my bag anytime—“

“Hey.” Eunbi comes up empty-handed. Her words are heavier with each passing fragment. She doesn’t have to say them for you to know her search was fruitless, just like yours was. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see it. I asked around, too.”

Your hopes are dashed. “Call you back,” you whisper into the phone.

“Tell me how the date goes!” 

With a small beep, Sakura is gone, (thankfully.) (And so is her song about you and your best friend sitting in a tree doing something so lewd you could only spell it out.) It’s just you and Eunbi, in the gentle end-of-September sunset. 

“Now, would you look at that.” Eunbi laughs sarcastically. Sweat usually drips from the side of the face, right? Not the front? She throws her hands up and places them back down her sides anyway. “I guess I did lose the bag after all.”

Something’s wrong. What is it?

You stare at her, not knowing what to say. It is kind of ironic in a biting-you-back-in-the-ass way that Eunbi’s kidding threat about losing your stuff actually came true. 

“You sure you didn’t see it anywhere?” you ask. You’re starting to lose determination. And for what? You did say you didn’t give a damn about it earlier. How easily your words come to you when you only think of yourself.

“W-well—” 

Yep, there's definitely something wrong. Kwon Eunbi doesn’t stutter. Unless she’s mocking Minju, who’s almost always nervous, or does aegyo as a punishment, she doesn’t trip over her words. “What?”

“Fuck it, I’m sorry, okay?” 

Tears come too easily even to the gutsy Eunbi. It’s always been her Achilles’ heel. She’s a great and friendly leader, but one nice word that hits her right where it needs it or a bad day has her reduced to sobs. She smiles through them, wiping the teardrops with the end of her wrist. 

“And don’t tell me it’s fine just because I’m crying,” she says. The frustration gets to her and soon her sobs attract attention. “It was, a-a shitty thing to do on my end. I know it’s not okay, but I’m sorry.”

She’s a tearful painter of emotions under a night littered with starry skies.

She doesn’t have to hold the brush for the two of you all the time.

Take the brush from her just like how you take her into your arms. Eunbi says not to absolve her of her sin, but you’re a god whose mercy merges with bias. You like her too much. There’s something that pulls at your chest whenever she breaks down. 

The tension partially leaves her stiff shoulders. She sniffles, and it’s an attack straight to your heart. It’s so rare that she becomes so weak. 

“Eunbi—”

She shakes her head before you could go on. “Don’t say it. Please. Let me make it up to you.”

“I’ll say it anyway. It’s fine. I can’t use the stuff in there anyway.” 

“I said no. Hmph.” Her tears blot the front of your shirt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I would cry like this. Don't feel guilty, okay? Okay? I just don’t like giving you a hard time.”

“You never could.” You’d trade more than a backpack for Eunbi’s wellbeing.

Somehow, Eunbi cries more. Her hug circles your waist in almost a chokehold, and you realize that the Kwon Eunbi from years back—the one who made everyone call her Madison, the one who’s always glued to your side—is still here. She’s just older, a little braver, and prettier than you could ever imagine.

Emphasis on the last. Her lashes carry her tears in a biblically beautiful manner, like you ought to kneel and venerate her. The southward curl of her lips is so cute yet painful that you’d give anything to see them lift again.

“You don’t have to say I didn’t do anything wrong…” she tells you quietly. You could hear the guilt infecting her words, evident in the cracks of her voice.

“Well.” You touch your mouth on her hairline. “You have a way of making me say it.”

There’s no mourning for your bag. You suspect that there was none at all, perhaps just shock? Must be why you’re cradling her, like a child would to a doll at night, and letting her feel your touch. Maybe the way she’s closing herself into your embrace is platonic, because at the end of day, you’re still friends. But you don’t feel her breath on your skin for a while after you indirectly forgive her.

Eunbi lifts her face from the comfort of your front. Pouting, she then laughs a little. “What are you doing? You don’t have to be so sweet.”

“I could be sweeter,” you offer. She sighs loudly, tired of your mischief; you grin and pat the small of her back. “Come on, let’s go home.”

The night has downed the temperature, and now the breeze whips her small form back and forth. It’s too cold for her to be walking with no sleeves or at least trousers. So you lift your toga up and slip it around her. It’s bigger than the one she had and lost with your bag. Her hands barely fight their way out of being hidden under the long blue sleeves.

Her eyes reduce to suspicious slits while a smile pastes itself on her lips. “You’re a flirt, you know that?”

You shrug casually. “Born and raised.”

“That’s not how you use it,” Eunbi says, wiping the last of her tears. 

"Might as well go on. I opened the can of worms, now I'll lie in it."

"Jesus."

"What? I made my bed more than I could, now I'll eat it."

“Wow, it’s like you never listened to professor June.”

Wasn’t it just afternoon a few minutes ago? The sky has become a blueish black landscape. The only sources that provide illumination to the streets and alleys are the streetlights and moon, plus the twelve especially bright stars etched into the map of constellations.

“Okay, miss Oh My Gadnis,” you fire back. She gives you a dirty look. You immediately take it back.

She throws her head back and lets darkness take over her vision for a while. Gulp. The light welcomes itself back and she lets out a prolonged, wistful breath. Tiny sobs glaze it. “It’s Minju’s fault. She was always shouting that in the dorm. Makes me kind of miss her.”

In the last years of university, Eunbi made friends with eleven girls. She was the leader of their friend group, the one who made plans and provided solutions. But as graduation crept closer and eventually caught up with them, she won’t be seeing them much again. 

“I can always drive you to your meet-ups. Didn’t get a driver’s license for nothing.” 

“You don’t have to. I already fucked up your day.”

“You didn’t. It’s just a bag, little raindrop.”

The chilly atmosphere tracks your nighttime conversation with your best friend. What do the songbirds, sleeping yet eavesdropping, think of you and her? Does the moon brighten to increase your shadows? It’s like they’re listening in. 

She looks down at the edges of her shoes as they mark their path to home. “What brand was it? I’ll buy you a new one. I-I’ll send the notes to you.”

“No can do. Just do this one thing.”

And now, the night quiets.

When time has chipped away at the lack of lines on your faces and brought forth hell, you’ll be there. Together. You won’t go back here anymore, but there will be prettier places for you and her. It’s what you pray for though you’re not all that spiritual, but you know it’s what you want.

“Let’s… be friends until we’re old and miserable,” you ask of her. Even admitting that you want to be with her makes you shy, and you’re anything than that when you’re around her. So why is this happening? Why are you doing this? “Spend more time together. Doesn’t have to be something grand.”

Eunbi blinks at you. There are undertones to your words, some kind of hidden message a veteran film critic could pick apart if your life were a movie. You’re asking her to be with you, yet there’s depths to it, almost like you’re telling her another thing. 

“Sure,” she whispers, nodding. She can do that.

Again, a lot of subtext. But that’s for another night. 

“Oh,” you add, “and be my backpack since you lost it anyway. Get up.”

Eunbi flinches, but she’s smiling the second you lower yourself for her. 

“Come on. You’re tired, little raindrop. I’ll take you home.”

She sighs. She climbs on your back anyway. You support her legs with your forearms and boost her up. You pay your gratitude to the dark for hiding your flushed cheeks at the feeling of your friend’s body pressed so tight to yours.

“Please don’t do silly shit,” she begs, placing her face next to your neck and fearing the worst.

She’s right to be frightened. Lowering yourself nearly to the ground in preparation, you yell: “Here comes the rollercoaster!”

“No, no, no—ahhhh!”

You zoom Eunbi in the night, feet picking up speed and racing through the road. Her arms are rounded around your neck. She shrieks in delight, and while along the way your legs start to ache, you’re just glad to hear that laugh again. 

-

Gently push the door to your house open with the help of Eunbi's keys, which come with a keychain of a knitted rabbit. Darkness greets you, spreading itself around the house like water.

“Why is it so dark?” whispers Eunbi, looking around and twisting her arms around your neck tighter. 

“You’re such a baby," you chuckle. "It's nighttime, of course it's gonna be dark."

Eunbi whines and squeezes her legs around you. The feel of her fluffy thighs in the curve of your palms—it's… something. You can't think like that about her when she's your best friend, but she's so close, so perfect on top of you that your mind runs with ideas.

"Alright, fine. Turn on the light."

"Where?"

"You’ve slept over so many times and you don't know where it is?"

"Doesn't count when I can't see, genius."

"Right here." Twist your head to the wall, where a light switch stays. "Just near the door."

Eunbi reaches out her hand, and you're cohorts with the dark when you secretly inch the fluff of your sleeve against her fingers. She screeches, suddenly struggling, calling your name and whoever Fuck is. 

This is the way of your prank backfiring on you: her limbs are surprisingly strong that her feather-light weight becomes too much. Your legs start to shiver. Your hands weren’t made to suffer this much wildness.

"Something touched me!" Eunbi screams, kicking you in the spine. You try to hold on to her but her legs don't behave. "A mouse, a mouse, a—"

You start to laugh. She's like a proactive rabbit trying to beat you up. "Calm down, it was just—"

"My hand, it touched my hand! Disgusting piece of shit, get it off—"

"Eunbi!" 

She both clings onto you and pushes you away, scared of what lurks in the dark. You can't take it anymore and drop miserably to the floor. The tiles knock your back out. Eunbi won’t let go of you; her screams never stop.

"Help! My hand—"

"What's going on here?"

The light flickers on, letting you see what's happening. You're in the living room that connects portallessly to the dining room. The ceiling generates dizzy circles above you. And then there's Sakura, an unexpected presence, standing near you.

"Whoa there," she remarks, smug like she’s a journalist who caught a forbidden celebrity couple. "There's a time and place for this, right?"

For a moment, you wonder what she's talking about. You sit up and realize Eunbi's squeezed herself on your lap, with your arms tangled into hers during the mess. 

Flush red. Sakura will never let you hear the end of this: you cradling Eunbi on the floor, with her looking so comfortable snuggled up to your touch. “Something couple something something perfect for each other,” that's what Sakura would say.

"It was just a prank," you mumble to the girl on your lap. Pat her head. Show her the fluffy fabric cuff of your sleeve. "See? There's no mouse."

"What the hell? You're such an asshole!" Eunbi's blade-sharp gaze, it cuts through you. You want to keep bleeding, It's unfair how pretty she is even when she's angry.

"Hey, I can do pranks, too." Turn to Sakura, because the next thing you're wondering is how she's here. "How did you get in, Miyawaki?"

"I drove," she says, like it explains everything. "Should we eat? Your dad left some food in the microwave." 

Eunbi turns shy at Sakura's knowing look as she rises. She pulls you up. The veins in her forearm flex. 

Sakura leaves anyway to fetch the food. You can smell spring rolls and freshly-cooked rice. Your stomach churns—running with Eunbi on your back has burned all that eomuk and left you hungry. 

You look at Eunbi questioningly. "Do you know why she's in my house?"

"No.” She returns your curious expression. “I was hoping you would tell me."

“Christ, what's she doing here?" 

"I'm here," butts in the Japanese girl, bringing forth a plate of crispy rolls and utensils, "because I personally want to help Eunbi unnie in making it up to you.”

She takes the liberty of scooping chunks of rice onto your plates. You dig your fork through one of the spring rolls, place it on Eunbi’s small plate, then get one for yourself. The wooden image of Jesus on watches you closely. You’re suddenly aware of every little sin you’ve made.

“Listen,” says Sakura, and you do just that.

So here’s Sakura’s brilliant idea, funded by her and her friends (somehow, Eunbi doesn’t get to contribute a cut): a trip for Christmas. 

It’s out in Seoul, where it’s snowing at that time of the year, where you’ll get to roam the city and buy whatever you want—all on the house. There’s ice skating to do and restaurants to try, each new and exciting. You’ve never been to Seoul before, but the way Sakura narrates the whole plan makes you look forward to it.

She talks about how her new job is paying her great, and how the fact that the other girlfriends Eunbi has are chipping in makes it an all-in-all win. It’s a friend’s duty, she says, to stick up for when one of them is down, and since Eunbi made a mistake, she’ll gladly take the blame. You’re surprised at how dedicated the girls are. You’ve never seen a bond so deep that they’d pay thousands just for compensation. And for just a thrifted old bag, too.

It’s inevitable that you agree. You have nothing to lose. This is a chance of a lifetime, and you’d love to have a vacation anyway. 

Sakura only has one stipulation:

You have to go with Eunbi.

-

Now it’s not that Eunbi is hard to be around, but she kinda is. It’s not in the usual way—she’s your best friend, not any other girl, and she’s not overly dependent that you have to act as her father or something. She can take care of herself, which can’t be said about a lot of people. 

But this is what sets you off: you’ll be the only one with her in Seoul. A guy and a girl sharing a hotel room. Would it be awkward? Of course. How do you tell her that you won’t look when she dresses up? What do you tell her if you find her bra in your sheets?

Still, she’s your best friend. It shouldn’t be awkward around friends, especially when you’re on the journey of spending more time together. That’s the whole point of the relationship: to be free and careless around someone. It’s supposed to be like that until you see how pretty she actually is, with the flow of her long hair and the crinkle of her eyes.

That’s where it gets difficult. Really, really difficult.

“Hey,” she says, and that’s what breaks your reverie. Looking up at her, however, has you drowned in another.

Black-framed glasses sit on her nose, curling at the ends behind her ears. Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail, some fringes flying free from the band. It’s such a deadly attack. Then there’s the graphic shirt that hugs her too tight and the denim shorts that cut too close to the starts of her thighs. 

You gulp. When you thought Eunbi couldn’t get prettier, she proves you wrong.

“You like it?” she asks. She twirls around. “I got glasses.”

“I see that,” you reply. Why is your chest immoveable? 

Eunbi grins. “I couldn’t say that until I went to EO.”

You force out a laugh. You look at your phone, scrolling through your feed in search of a little reprieve from how pretty she is. At this point, it’s a constant run around your mine: Kwon Eunbi is so pretty. And she’s not just pretty, too. That’s what makes her so beautiful: the duo of feistiness and painful attractiveness. Can you say that? No. But that doesn’t mean you can’t think it.

The first thing Eunbi does when she takes the seat opposite you is swipe a finger through your ice cream. Glare at her. She beams at you. Your reprimand dissolves. 

“How’d you know where I was?”

“Lucky guess,” she says. She decorates the sides of her face with her palms as she looks at you curiously. “What you thinking about?”

You. “I’m still not sure about the whole trip thing.” 

"Come on," she says, and that pout knows how to break away at your attempts to ever hold her accountable for anything. "It's only weird if you make it weird."

Weird is fitting for October anyway. Should have ordered that Halloween special instead of this. 

You were a solo customer in the ice cream parlor until Eunbi came out of nowhere. She always knows where to find you. Telepathy? Power of friendship? Power of something more than that? 

You don't want to think about it.

"It's Sakura," you say, testily, as you shove another spoonful of double dutch in your mouth. The sweetness can't melt your anxiety. "It's always weird when it's Sakura."

Eunbi considers this. "What about when it’s me?"

“What?”

“I said: is it weird when it’s me?”

She’s clever at finding ways to make you stutter. “No,” you tell her quickly, “it’s not you, I promise. Just… it’s only us.”

You and Eunbi, alone in a hotel room. A straight man and woman in the same place, with nobody else around. You have fantasies about how it ends, but you know it'll never happen. But the thing is: you're stupid. You're going to do something you shouldn't, like watch her as she pulls long stockings over her legs. Think about more details than the shadow of her body on the glass shower panels let on. Want your best friend when it's everything you should never do.

“Is that so bad?” Eunbi sighs and looks around, thinking. As she takes in the jolly retro style of the parlor and the waitresses, she continues, “I mean, if you want to, I can find another way to, like, make things good. I can tell Sakura to call it off—”

“No!” 

She looks at you surprisedly. Always, you speak before you think. To be fair, there’s a single thought behind your too-fast outburst: you can’t let this opportunity pass by. But rather than the grand city lights and expensive restaurants, you think about her. 

You cover your mouth. Shit. You have no worries about fucking up in front of her. The worst thing she’d do is make a reference to it in future conversations or joke about it. But right now you’ve just revealed your true intentions. 

You’re lucky Eunbi never takes things to heart.

“Okay, fine, geez.” She chuckles lightly, shaking her head at you. “You really need a vacation, huh?”

The only thing you need is silver rain, but you somehow always wield an umbrella.

-

“Do you like it?”

It’s what Eunbi says, on her knees before she sucks your tip. Groan you must because that tongue is too talented. It’s a skill you could only make faint guesses where it originated. For that, you don’t care anyway—not when she’s slipping and wrapping those perfect lips around your cock, the intent suction making you reel into her face. Almost knocks her specs away, and you wouldn’t want that to happen, would you? Her appeal just goes to an all-time high with them.

“Fuck, yes, Eunbi,” you say. “I love—”

“No. Now that I think about it, you don’t actually get to speak.” She teases your testicles and nurses on one, her hand attending to your stiff erection. “Not until I have my way with you.”

And she does. She switches back to your cock then, like an expert, she bobs her little head up and down, taking you in her throat like it was nothing. The chest of her tight shirt is stained with precum, and some of the foretelling liquid is in her hair. But when has she cared about that? Never, not in the time continuum of this room. She only likes to keep the propriety of servicing you, no matter how red her knees are or how sore her jaw gets.

Eunbi teases her tongue on the lower side of your cock then brings her lips up. You hiss. Her throat welcomes you again, and, with a hand on your thigh, she makes it work. She’s choking, and yet the clever little thing is so diligent with her work. Through choke and sob, those teary eyes looking up at you for validation, she continues. Spit dots your cock and so does lipstick. It’s smudged at the side of her chin.

She licks your cockhead repeatedly. It’s swollen, and she takes advantage of it by licking. And sucking. Then licking it again so rapidly you start to shake.

There’s a greedy glimmer in her tears. “Gonna cum?” she asks. “Please? I want you to.”

Fingers wrapping around your base, she goes down again. Her nose touches your pubic area. You can feel her hot breath tickling your flesh when she rises for a brief and subtle breath. Then it repeats: Kwon Eunbi is forcing her head up and down, lips wet with saliva and precum. The texture of her tight throat and the welcoming pleasure of her mouth brings you too close. Too damn close—

Fill her throat with white so much that she squeals in surprise. A little adorable giggle, then some more hardworking sucking to work your cum out of you. You want to tell her that you’ve become too sensitive, that she shouldn’t continue. But then you never want it to stop.

“Fuck! Eunbi, Eunbi, Eunbi—”

That’s what you say when she continues despite her breaths getting lost. 

“Good girl. Good pretty girl.”

That’s what you say, with your hand on her ponytail, tugging it so she gets access to the oxygen she willingly deprived herself of. Her mouth’s filled with your semen. She’s gasping. Her chin’s lifted to the sky but her eyes gaze only at you. Your approval isn’t what she needs to get by solely, but god, does it make her think so.

“I love you.”

That’s what she says.

But like everything else—this blowjob that made you fail November’s challenge, the sweet talk, her on her knees, her actually liking you—

It could only ever be in your imagination.

-

December couldn’t come any sooner. Packing was an eventful occasion. You bunched up a lot of underwear in your carry-on like you had a habit of pissing yourself. It was only when you got to the airport that you realized that in all the rage to get clean underwear, you didn’t bring socks.

The twenty-third was a day you both dreaded and yearned for. But then you’re in the airplane, traveling through clouds you used to stare up at, and Eunbi’s beside you. Isn’t she always? She falls asleep a couple of times in the airport, head on your shoulder, and you pat her knee to slumber her. Her Sanrio neck pillow is of no use when you’re a better one. 

Why can't you stop staring? She's been a tear in your heart for a long time, making it pulse and ache, but now she's gotten so much prettier, so much more friendly that it isn't really unexpected that you fall for her. Is that your confession to yourself? Perhaps. You could only ever say it to your own heart. 

Picture this, (and, matching that of the many other scenes you’ve dreamed of her in, it would only be real for a while): Eunbi's wearing that shirt from the day she first sported glasses. On your lap. Looking at you with an aura any man with a heterosexual drawing could read. Hands on the edges of her knees. 

She's leaning over, and she's saying—

"That little witch,” she spits, shoving her carry-on, “I can't believe we fly at seven and we had to be here at two a.m., I'm gonna kill Sakura!"

Close enough?

"You got a mouth on you, huh?" you remark. Pull her wheeled suitcase to the mouth of the plane.

Seoul is a paradise. You could see the greatness even from above. A couple of times you have Eunbi wake up to look, and she does. Her evident happiness shines brighter than the city lights.

"It's beautiful," she murmurs excitedly. Even her eyes that are heavy with sleep appreciate the view.

"So it is."

But you could think of other things that are prettier. Other people.

It's autumn, and the golden leaves are starting to fall. They crumple beneath your feet and release crackles that bring a strange sense of satisfaction. Step on another one. And another one. Somehow all your troubles are gone. 

Look at her. 

She’s reading from a book, paging through leaves containing yellowed words. She looks like a nerdy girlfriend with the new look, which you still haven’t gotten over. In any case, she’s so beautiful, and again, your heart is sore.

Eunbi’s deep into the story woven with Shakespearean words, but she catches your prolonged stare. Blinking, she lifts her head. Smiles. Cocks her head sweetly to the side and you swear she can’t look any better than this: long dark hair swaying ‘round her face and glasses making her more adorable. Says, “What ya lookin’ at, handsome?”

Yeah, all gone.

Eunbi loves playing around with nicknames, and she must think you’re vain enough for her to use that when she wants to rile you up. (She does.) You roll your eyes, and she laughs at her own ridiculousness and your attempt to be dismissive.

“Someone who’s prettier than ever,” you reply. Raise your chin. “You know her?”

“You really love me, huh?” 

“Never said it was you.”

“Oh, darling.” Eunbi licks her lip. “I know it’s me.”

Well, shit.

Eunbi’s the only girl you know who could respond to your teasing. The only person, for that matter. Even the men start to back away. She’s the sole person who can handle you, and you yourself could barely handle her. Good friends don’t suddenly lose their breath when she gets near. Good friends don’t think of ever, ever crossing that borderline between platonicness and romance.

So it’s safe to say you’ve been a bad friend all along.

“Since you’re, like, so obsessed with me…” Eunbi rises and hands you her phone. The phone case is red—of course. “Take a picture of me, please?”

She rises from the bench, and you wince inside at how good she looks. It should seriously be prohibited to look that attractive. You've tried to keep your head clear of her, but then she stands up in those teeny tiny safety shorts, fucking hugging her thighs and that supple backside. Why did she choose to go in that? Not even a skirt to go with it, or dress pants? You’re not one to nitpick at what others wear, but you feel something stirring inside you when she dresses more freely.

And red—it just looks so good on her, doesn't it? That simple tight sweater has you begging for forgiveness. You'd go to a priest, confess your sinful yearning, and you don't think that he'd forgive you after how you describe it.

"Will do," you say, chewing on your lip. "Get to posing. We don't have all day."

"Not to burst your bubble," she tells you, " but we do. But I'm a good girl, so I'll do as you say."

Swallow. Why the fuck is she like this?

"You sure as shit aren't, little rain—"

She bends over. 

The question repeats in your head. She bends over, (forward anyway), but if any shameless man were to walk behind her, they'd get an eyeful of her butt. You want to tell her she shouldn't do this, especially when her bottoms grip her thighs as a sole factor. But she's holding her bag in the edges of her fingers and angling her head to the side, and you know you’re over.

"—drop."

Eunbi smirks, haughty and proud. "Cat got your tongue back there?"

"Not even close. Give me a smize."

Proud of yourself for recovering quickly, you snap a photo of Eunbi. The look she gives the camera (you?): relaxed brows, slight pout, the black eyewear being the cherry on top—it's not easy baggage to carry for a man like you.

You put the phone down. Take a breather; you always have to when you're with her. Kwon Eunbi, national heart player. Kwon Eunbi, number one prank puller. Kwon Eunbi—

—your friend. Your best friend. 

"What's wrong?" All that confidence evaporates from her as she walks up to you, concern taking its place. 

She can be really scary sometimes. How could she be a flirt one second then a sweetheart the next? You're kept guessing, and you're guilty for liking girls like that. But as you study her, look at Kwon Eunbi—her hair and the band that sits atop it, her lips, her face—you kind of figure out that there's no other girl like her. 

And that scares you.

"Nothing," you lie. "You wanna go get coffee or something?"

"Actually," she states seriously, rising, "I do wanna go get coffee or something."

-

The twenty-fourth. The malls are crowded with people buying last minute presents, so you and Eunbi sat on the bench outside. It might be Seoul, but you’re not fighting your way through a crowd. While you stayed there and waited for time to feel wrong, a rich woman mistook you for a beggar, pitied you, and gave you a coin. As you stared at the bust on the metal, Eunbi laughed so hard you were not totally uncertain that she was going to throw up.

"We should leave," Eunbi says, "before someone tries to bring you to a damn church basement."

And the scene repeats itself again: you talk with Eunbi, like you've done a million times, as you go to your home for this night and the next. You talk about everything, because conversations come so easily when it's her. Whether it's about stupid people or school or what happened that day, the words flow naturally. 

Eunbi bites her lip, hands on her hips. "It's getting late."

"That a problem for you?" 

"No. Nope. It's just that… I can't believe it's going to be Christmas tomorrow." 

Christmas lost its spark back when you got into college. You've graduated and still you find no solace in the stockings and evergreen trees. School—oh, its deadlines, its pressure, its it-won't-matter-in-five-years-but-I'll-make-you-think-it-will papers—really ruined things for you. Forever. 

She drags her vision around everything: the sky of stars, the roads that are just a bit cleaner than the ones at your home, the claw machine arcade just across the sidewalk. She goes there, and you follow. Don’t you always?

"It’s Christmas and we're here," she continues. She manages a snortle. "Doesn't your dad feel lonely? I know mine does."

"He likes you, Eunbi. He doesn't mind."

You pull out a bill and slip it into the old exchanger. Sure enough, tokens spill from the gap. Count them in your palm. Divide it between the two of you. You and Eunbi always share, no matter how hard you try to make it seem annoying. You only ask for one drink and one straw. You split rice balls from that trip in grade eleven when your parents forgot to give you allowance for lunch, up until college when the two of you were too broke to eat anything else. What’s yours is Eunbi’s, and what’s Eunbi’s is yours.

"What first?" She studies the old arcade. It's filled with machines that are either anciently old or freshly new. No owner patrols the areas, but instead, a CCTV does so mounted perfectly on the corner of the walls. It watches your every move, reminding you to behave.

"Wanna get a Piglet?" 

“A what?”

“A Piglet. You know, the one who looks like an armadillo.”

“What the fuck is an armadillo?” Eunbi says the English name with spite, almost spitting it into the ground. 

“Forget it. I mean like the cartoon pig people say looks like you?”

"Oh. Nah. A good ol’ vibrating egg for me." She thrusts a thumb into the glass of an 18+ claw machine, where it tempts the player with boxed sex toys and hentai copies.

Heat flares at your cheeks. Now it’s not that you’re thinking of it, but it’s Eunbi’s dirty jokes that make you think of stuff you shouldn’t. Her on her bed, legs spread wide open as the toy pulses on her clit, her throwing her head back and crying…

"Spend my money wisely, please?" you croak out. Slip a token into one machine and start to crank at the lever. 

"I'll be good." 

Your hand curls tighter around the ball of the lever. You hate how you picture double meanings with everything she says. She doesn't deserve that. And you don't either.

Eunbi prances over to the Piglet machine anyway. You want to snicker at her antics, but it gets broken when you see her bend down. The jeans could only hug her backside so much. Her shirt lifts and you could see her tummy—that flat, soft midriff that you’ve wrapped your hands around when you guide her back on the occasion she runs too fast. Or when she needs to move away. She doesn’t mind; she touches you more freely anyway. But you wonder if she’d let you come up behind her and place your hands all over it, not as friends but as something more.

Because for a friend, she sure does take up a lot of your mind.

Put your focus on this keychain. Yes, this one. This keychain is cute. Would be nice to bring something home to your father. You guide the claw to the nearest one and slam the button. To your surprise, the metal actually hinges around the keychain. You could feel your soul lift up to your throat.  It just needs to make it all the way to the hole—

“Shit!” you curse as the claw lets go. That can’t be fair, right? It was doing so well, then it just spread open again. What a waste of time and money.

“Loser,” giggles Eunbi. She shows off a Piglet stuffie, pink and simpering. 

“Wow, really needed to hear that. Thanks, Eunbi.”

She lifts her shoulders. “Hey, for what it’s worth: I just got lucky.”

Tokens become nothing to you. You try again and again for a prize to make it your money’s worth, only to end up with nothing. Eunbi scores a candy from the kids’ section, and you could see her consider trying out the 18+ ones. The appeal of the Playboy magazines and the Japanese girls looking back lewdly at her with barely no underwear on is beguiling.

“Do you think I should try to get a dildo or something?” Eunbi asks, running her knuckles along the markered glass. 

“You don’t even know if it’s clean.” You’re leaning against the outside exchanger, staring into nothingness. But you always manage a little response for Eunbi, as absurd as her questions are and as wild your thoughts are about her. “You might get an STD or some shit.”

Her face squeezes up in disgust. “Ew, right. Forget it.” 

You feel her warm body press into your side later. You’re still surprised even though the girl never leaves you alone. Then her head is on your shoulder, just like in the airport, and your heart surges. How do you deal with her? Pet her arm, and somehow she finds a way to sink deeper in your touch. She looks up at you and offers you a kind smile.

“I got you the keychain,” she says. She drops the Seoul keychain on the hand she forced you to open and looks away modestly. “Saw you sweating over it.”

“Thanks.” You look down at it on your palm and feel warm inside. She really is so sweet. “Appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” Eunbi replies quietly. “It’s the least I could do.”

She purses her lips tightly and exhales through her nostrils. Guilt floats in her face like a dark shadow. 

“If it’s about the bag, I already told you it’s okay. I mean, it’s just a bag.”

“So? It means a lot to you.”

Your thoughts race with your words and win, forcing them out. “You do, too.” 

Is she blushing? No. No, can’t be. But she’s stroking your palm with the keychain on it, a little tilt at the edge of her lips. That’s kind of close to that. Friends do this, right? 

Her touch feels both foreign and familiar. You want to reel back and apologize for something you didn’t do, but then you want to hold her. Make her happy. Is that alright?

“Speaking of which,” she says pensively, staring into nothingness like you are, “what do you think happened to it?”

“The bag? I dunno.” Bring back her attention—eyes on me—by actually holding her hand. Sometimes you could be so brave. Toy with it, swinging your joined hands in the air then pressing them to your chest. You laugh at the suspicion clear on her face. “Probably in some lost-and-found counter. Or someone actually stole it and was like, ‘yep, hit the jackpot.’”

“Like trouvaille,” she says.

“What?”

“Trouvaille,” Eunbi repeats. She breaks her gaze from the space on the road and looks down at her sneakers. “A lucky find.”

A lucky find.

Staring at her is your pastime at this point. Your focus glazes over her once more, and you drink her all up. Two locks of her hair are pulled and tied at the back, making her look absolutely gorgeous. You’re lost in her eyes, like they’re an ocean and you’re on a raft floating on its waves. And of course, those glasses—you’re convinced they were made to make you want to do sinful things to her.

But the urge to sweep her in your arms takes over, and it outweighs your lust. Or are they equal? She looks so beautiful, yet so handsome. So pure and sweet, yet such a bombshell.

“Forgive me, but I must reiterate.” She tilts her head with a silly little grin. “What ya looking at?”

You’ve figured it all out. You wonder why you were ever worried.

"Well," you lead a runaway lock of dark hair back behind her earlobe, "guess I’m just lucky to have found you. Even if you're a nuisance."

Her eyes crease up into half-moons. "And I'm lucky to have met you."

"Even… ?"

"Nothing after. Just that: I'm lucky to have met you."

You never meant to actually do it. But it’s become too silent, like the world is leaving the cards on your table to play. And there’s her certain hold on your fingers, like she wants you to do it. There’s the birds tweeting as they gather into the trees for the night, waiting for the show of a lifetime. The stars, too, are bright tonight.

So who could blame you for nailing her to the claw machine and finally, finally kissing her? Her lips are as soft as they look, and you’re melting in them. You’re still holding her hand, keeping it pinned up to her side. Your tongues come out to play and it’s so much better than you imagined, so much better than your stupid little fantasies. Your eyelids shut, too, because this is an experience you never want to end.

That collarbone will be the end of you. It peeks from the neckline of her shirt, and you suddenly have all the courage to seal your lips on it. If only you could have mustered the same courage back in college to socialize, but you’re glad you saved it all up for this moment. Eunbi’s moan is sharp, and it almost makes you falter, almost makes you stop. Nope, can’t do that. When she’s letting out all these other little sounds as you have your way with her, there’s no way you’d let up.

“Hmmm…” Eunbi twists her head to the side and cries out. It unintentionally grants you access to her flawless neck. You leave some flaws: purple bruises she whines at, harsh open-mouthed kisses that trail saliva all over that pale skin. “I need to tell you something.”

You brush your mouth behind her ear. You can smell her faint perfume. “And that is?”

“I lied about wanting to get a drink.” She scoffs at her desperation, then sighs. She gives in either way. “I fucking hate coffee. Hate it. Hate it like a mother hates her firstborn. Or something. Just hate it, hate it, hate it.”

You shake your head. What an unfitting time to say that. Cradle her anyway. “Then why did you get some with me?” you ask.

“I-I don’t know. Guess I just wanted to be with you.”

Wait, so what about all those times you invited her for a study session at the cafe? She had always ordered a latte. Has she been hiding that silly secret each second, just for a chance to hang out with you? To have your company?

You didn’t know coffee would flatter you this much.

You pause. Does she like you? As much as you like her? You don’t know. You’re momentarily flustered. Step back and scratch the back of your neck, similar to a boy having been caught doing something wrong. Kissing your best friend is something wrong. 

You shouldn’t be doing this. A friendship between two heterosexual people of the opposite gender could stray to lengths that are both painful as they are excruciating if someone dared to touch the other. So, if you kissed Eunbi, who could predict the consequences? Chances are you’ve ruined your friendship forever.

Then she grabs your waist and pulls you close. Kisses your chin ‘cause that’s all she can reach and she can barely reach it at all. But it sends shivers down your knees.

“Come on,” she whispers breathily. “Don’t be shy. Touch me.”

Foolish to stop and think. Your immediate yet hesitant reaction is to give her jawline one final kiss and slip your hands under her shirt. 

“Oh!” 

Alright, you’re a lot more confident now. You pull the cups of her bra down and start to squeeze. It’s no secret that she’s got a blessed bust, and now you get to feel it. Her nipples are hard in your palms and the flesh in your hold is just so soft. You could never get enough.

Eunbi laughs. Sort of; it’s kind of a moan, too. She lifts her chin to the sky as you knead and knead and knead. “H-how long… have you been waiting to do that?”

It’s an achievement making her stutter. More stammering breaths leave her lips when you thumb her nipples. Press, thumb, pinch, repeat. It’s how you find out she’s just so damn sensitive, and of course you’re abusing that fact.

“You don’t want to know,” you reply, brushing your lips over hers. 

She gasps. “Again.”

“Huh?”

Eunbi kisses you. “Kiss me. Like this. Again.”

Is anyone aware, by the way, that you are completely incapable of refusing her?

You kiss her, like she asked. She sighs happily, her tongue suddenly coming out to play. More sensations of softness are at hand, and now you’re battling for the upper hand with your tongue responding to her gestures. 

Two can play this game. You slip your tongue through her lips and she sucks it, almost like she’s aware of who’d be controlling who. You force her up to the claw machine glass (plastic? It’s pretty sturdy) so hard that your kissing isn’t gentle by any means. It’s leaving her breathless.

“You’re… you’re good,” she hums, when you finally reward her with a break. “I wanted to be the first girl you did that to.”

The revelation definitely isn’t linked to how hard you’re nibbling on her jawline. Her shuddering breaths are everything.

“Actually,” adds Eunbi, “I wanted to be the first everything for you. First kiss, first love, first time. But you just had to date Hyewon, huh?”

“Jealous?”

“Nope. Never. Just, oh, don’t stop–” Eunbi winces, ribbons her fingers through your own more. “Oh…” 

Your tongue swirls on her neck. Meanwhile, your hands are busier. You squeeze Eunbi’s fantastic breasts so that her leg pulls you close. Your obvious erection pushes against her center. Her hips start to move, bringing herself closer to your rod and getting off on the feeling. Her little whines increase.

Then you remember something.

“Have to.” You retrieve your fingers from under her shirt. Regretfully. Fix her bra back on her.

She’s near tears. “No…” 

“There’s a CCTV, little raindrop. You wanna get arrested?”

You’re out of breath. You pull the ends of her shirt down to hide evidence of the crime, though there’s the camera witness to it, and try to lead her outside. She refuses to budge. Her glare is clear.

“If that means you get to fuck me till I’m begging and drooling,” she says solidly, “then take me to court.”

-

You take her home instead.

She looks frail waiting at the glass doors as you purchase some contraceptives from the convenience store, almost whining when you take too long. How the fuck do they have lube, too? You buy that and all the contraceptives they have, because if you want to have Eunbi, you gotta do it fast and safe.

She manages to wait on the elevator, hand wrapped tightly around your palm. Then, when you get to the room, she pushes you down the bed as if she were actually taller and stronger. She truly is an actress—wasn’t she just squirming impatiently not less than five minutes ago? Directors would look at her for sure, a face to remember among plain ones, and say, “Oh, this is our trouvaille. This is what’ll make us billions.” 

But now, she’s all yours. Your little trouvaille.

There’s pride in that.

“Fuck. Can’t wait to have someone like you.” She kisses you. Again. Another one to your chest. She’s a little greedy with the way she devours you. But you’ll spoil her as much as she wants; curve your body up so her cushiony lips could have more. Your back is buried into the white sheets. “Someone who is you.”

Grasp the small of her neck—her kisses are surprisingly passionate. "Wait,” you say, “you're not a virgin?" 

It doesn’t bother you; just surprises you. Eunbi’s had a fair amount of suitors and boyfriends, and plenty looked too frail to even hold her hand. 

"Virgin? Hell no," she replies, like it’s the most unbelievable thing she’s ever heard. The center of her jeans grinds against the mountain in yours. She bites her lip. "Mmm. You think with all this hotness a dude would go, 'Oh, I only want to take care of her'?"

"I do want to take care of you," you murmur, caressing her waist.

"Oh?" A grin stretches on her face. Her teeth still trap her lower lip, and it makes your stomach tighten. Your jeans, too. "Tell me more."

“For one,” you sit up and play with the belt loops on her pants, “I’d like to help you out of your clothes.”

“Typical,” she mutters amusedly. “But I’m not complaining.”

Eunbi continues grinding for long seconds that already feel like a taste of heaven, then rises. Her legs are jelly. You can’t imagine how wet she must be, and to think you’d finally see exactly how. She undoes your zipper, and you in turn pull down hers. Your pants are a whirlpool on the floor. It’s only when you roll on the condom and help her out of the shirt that you realize what she’s wearing:

Calvin Klein, from bust to bottom. Her navel sits above the band of the underwear. Her midriff looks even more perfect bare. Flatness travels through its front until it swells largely at her breasts, which look heavy behind the gray bra. Her hair falls messily over her shoulders, a sea of wildness, and her smile is dorkier with those glasses.

“Fuck.” Your Adam’s apple bobs. “Eunbi...”��

“Will you?” she challenges.

You stand up and grab her ass to usher her closer, then kiss her. She smirks; she expected that to happen. Of course, the little devil, always getting her way. But you can’t help but give and give and give; you turn your positions around, push her gently so that she lands on the bed, and continue to kiss her.

Silky legs curl around you. Behind the fabric, you could already feel how wet she is. Drive your hips up because the friction is too good. The wet spot of arousal on her underwear prods your clothed erection. 

Eunbi screams loudly. Chastise her with a squeeze on her butt cheek. She yelps, and your lips land on her again. “Easy there.”

“I hate you,” she groans, slapping your arm impatiently. She whines when you poke her cheek. “Give it to me.”

“Give it to me what?”

Eunbi huffs. “You want me to call you daddy on the first day? Really? I mean, that’s fine, I can do that. But can’t we dial it back?”

“You watch so much porn that you forget basic politeness.”

“Wow, hypocrite. Fuck you—”

“Baby.” 

That shuts her up. Your thumb caressing teasing rhythms on her face plays a big role, too. Her ears are pink at the ends and she genuinely looks shocked. No, not shocked. Can’t be just that anyway. But that tiny pout pulling south at the ends and the tiniest of pants escaping it tell you what you have to know. You and Eunbi can communicate with just a look, and this one she gives writes to you a message of want. 

“You alright? It’s okay, Eunbi. Baby.” Proud to have ruined all her feistiness, you tip her chin up. “I want you to say it.”

Wait, patiently. It’ll take time and you’re not one to rush. When she starts to talk again, her voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Please.” She nods and nods, like she was doing it just in case you started to doubt. “Please fuck me.”

“Good girl,” you tell her. You’ve always wanted to. You can tell it’s the same for her.

You ease her out of her underwear and find her pussy prettily shaven, glistening wet. Light stickiness lines the insides of her thighs. Her lips down here are just as beautiful up there. You glide your fingers up and down between them, a choreography you’ll never get tired of performing again. Your touch is light yet you manage to put your hand on and in all the right places.

Oh, well, barely in. But that’s the fun of it; teasing Eunbi is a newfound hobby. In little time, it’s become your most favorite. Your touch is so light that when you edge the tips of your fingers inside, it’s already a lot to take. She lets out a humbled little growl, shoulders straightening. Mouth slacking. Thighs shuddering.

“No, no, why does it feel so—” Her voice breaks. Her face squeezes up and she’s crying out in strained, tiny sounds. 

Your digits gently curl on the entrance of her pussy, touching her sore clit and making it throb with the stimulation. Eunbi’s lost count of the times she’s done the exact same thing to herself: lying in her bed screaming out silently with only her hand to turn to. And now she’s here, with you doing it for her. 

Slip one finger inside, and even with that she’s already so tight. You start to pump her, each driving her nearer and nearer to the headboard. She’s whining, like no, no, oh, please don’t stop. You add another to hear it more.

“You prick,” she squeals out, palm to her mouth. “If you stop, I’m gonna kill you. I swear, I swear, don’t play around with me.”

“You’re in no place to be making threats, Eunbi.” 

This is her punishment: a speed her little pussy can’t take. She’s so tight that you’re already struggling. Trust that she is, too. She’s thrashing around on the bed, disheveling the sheets the staff oh-so-carefully fitted back. Hold her down so she gets to feel the force of your pace. 

How did she manage to peek in your mind, collect all your fantasies about her, and act them out? She’s there, in her Calvin Klein underwear, shaking at your fingerfucking and flashing you the most needy looks from behind those glasses. That’s gotta come from somewhere. Watch the float of her tummy when you jam your fingers harder; the quiver in her arms when you part her legs more. Now you’re certain.

Because see, it’s how it’s all so frightening: Eunbi’s Eunbi, your best friend and someone you’ve fallen in love with, and it’s the fact that you shouldn’t be crossing the line. You shouldn’t be fingering her with a madness of thousands when she’s your friend. You shouldn’t be touching and leading her on when she’s your friend. You shouldn’t be—

But oh, you are. 

You’re doing it with the courage of someone who knows damn well what they’re doing is wrong, and with no regrets. 

“In me.” It’s not a suggestion. It’s a command, veiled under a breathy tone. “Now.”

You pull your fingers out of her and lick them. You don’t know if she’s tangy or sweet or bitter, but you do know she’s fucking delicious. “Whatever you say,” is your reply, because you’re always spoiling her.

Eunbi separates her thighs from one another. Your protected cockhead bumps against her clit when you approach. She flinches, but scurries herself near. She can’t stop staring at you, your cock, your stomach. Everywhere. It makes you possess a kind of narcissistic theory that perhaps she’s just as obsessed with you as you are with her.

You’ve never hoped this hard for a conspiracy to become true.

"Please." Eunbi's breath shortens, and she closes her eyes. She’s suddenly quiet, letting go of her harsh neediness. "Please rub your cock on me. On my clit. Without the condom."

Look at her throbbing nub and catch your breath. Barely. You run your fingers below the sensitive pearl. Then, on it. Under it, too, with little weight in order for the heat to circle around. "I don't know if we should, little raindrop."

"You can put it back on after, i-if you want." Her begging is borderline desperate. No wonder she isn’t sassing you. "I’m on the pill. Should have told you, I’m sorry. But I just want to know what it feels like. Please?"

“Are you sure?” 

She nods. Not that you need it to know what she wants.

You unroll the condom. Her mouth waters, even more when you do as she says. She’s right to be curious—it feels so fucking good that you’re afraid you have to put it on before you cum all over her. She whimpers quietly, the heat gathering in her clit and her legs suddenly tensing.

“Gah—” Eunbi sobs and catches the side of her fist in her mouth. “Oh god, please.”

“Seriously, you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”

“Shut up,” she gasps. “Just put it in me.”

Sure you will, but you can’t resist flicking your cock between her lips. Your tip teases her entrance and slaps her clit. Eunbi lets out a lengthy groan. It transforms into a girlish cry, and you kiss it all away. What you don’t know is the moment you push yourself inside, no amount of petting would get her to quiet down.

So you do.

“You are so—” Eunbi’s legs stretch out. They require an anchor, and you’re glad to act as one. You place your hands firmly on her thighs and start to push yourself inside the delicious tightness. Every time you try to push past the limits, her pussy only closes more around you. She’s all wet and aroused yet she remains so goddamned tight.

She’s slippery but firm in holding your cock inside that warm, wet hole. She has to stop tensing her stomach so that she won’t deprive you of her. It’s hard to push, but one powerful thrust drives you all the way in, making it worth it after everything. She spreads her thighs more which gives you the chance to feel them, and you’re right for grabbing the opportunity. Grabbing her thighs, to be specific.

Each thrust helps spread her out. You’re pushing her apart and forcing her limits to be taken down. Her pussy sleeves your shaft so well, so tight yet so perfect. You slam harder. Take in the beautiful imagery of Eunbi’s small cunt taking more than it could. Its hold is so enclosed that you’re required to guide her legs up to welcome your dick deeper.

“I’m seriously so angry at you,” she hisses out. She bears every drill with a pleasured face and a fist that chokes the sheets to material death. “How did you not dick me down… all those years ago, huh? What a fucking tease, fuck—”

Make up for it by choosing a rocky pace. She won’t relax, and it’s straining you. You’re so deep inside her yet you can tell there’s more to excavate—her tensed body just won’t let up. It’s like every time you roll your hips, her velvety walls close more around you.

“Well, I didn’t know you were so tight,” you say, kissing her collarbone. Tiny nibbles here and there before you give it a lick. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Oh, you’re sorry? Then fuck me harder.”

You’re terrible at apologies, but you’re sure she’ll forgive you this time. Your core releases a mighty strength in shoving between her open legs. Even that sexy Calvin Klein bra can’t stop her godly tits from bouncing. Her glasses are lopsided while her vision goes loopy behind them.

Her cheeks inflate in labor as her lower body rises to greet you. She’s so adorable; it pinches your heart and leads your mouth down so you can kiss her shoulder and clavicle. See, you’re a good multitasker after all; you can destroy the heat in her center while worshiping her body. It’s good practice. Question is: would there be more times to exercise it?

“That’s it, yes,” Eunbi breathes out. Her hums of affirmation stutter even without her lips opening. “You know what I’ve always imagined? It’s this, it’s always this. When I’m supposed to be studying, I just think of how good you’d pound me. How you’d make me scream. Do what you want to me, okay? Hnnn, so big.”

Plenty of similarities between you and your best friend: your quickness to speak before taking the time to contemplate it, the clothes you accidentally mix and match, your ages. But what you didn’t know is when you sit down at your laptop plagued by thoughts of her, she’s somewhere in her own place being overwhelmed by ones of you. The heat somehow multiplies. Fills the room like a verse.

Therefore, you must hold her in place, give her a false reassurance that you’re going to take her slow. Do so, but then your thrusts become unmeasured and rapid. One hand on the side of that flawless waist, you lead the other to her bra. Harshly pull it down and let her boobs spill out of it. You start to squeeze them hard. Her chest is so bountiful that even the width of your hand can’t map it fully. So you squeeze, forcing it to fit in your fingers, and start to pinch. Her nipple is sore with arousal.

“Oh—oh—oh, shit.” She’s sobbing. But unlike the other times you’ve seen her cry, this one is out of pure bliss. “Just like that. Such a good dick, such a good boy, thank you.”

Your ears heat up. “You’re a pretty good girl, too, Eunbi.” 

“You’re terrible at this.”

She mewls helplessly when you suddenly ramp up the pace. You’re doing her like you’re determined to make her pregnant. It’s the last thing you want to happen, but the grinds make it look otherwise. Along the expedition of your cock, it rubs her needy cunt and makes her drench your cock with more wetness. Enjoy the tightness, enjoy the squeeze of her hole. She’s so warm and wet that you don’t think you could live having only done this once with her. There’s gotta be more, right?

“What about now?” you ask, unable to resist smirking at how she’s now completely broken apart. Then, mirror her words from some days back that drove and still drive you crazy, as ridiculous as they are: “Cat got your tongue back there?”

She chokes up and is rendered even more lost for breath when you start to lose control of your own moans. They harmonize in an erotic chorus with hers and soon you’re muffling them with another torrid liplock.

“You’re a bully,” she says, the words mashing with your teeth and lips. “A heartbreaking, flirty, mean bully.”

Your noses nuzzle against each other. “You like me that way.”

“I’m not commenting… on, t-that.”

“Good. Because you know what you need to do? Cum for me. You’re shaking, Eunbi. Bet you wanna cry and get there so bad.”

“Y-yes!” Eunbi curses with that adorable lisp. She starts to stammer at the thumb floating and frisking on her clit, and she gives you this watery-eyed needy look that tells you, along with her stiff nubs and desperate gasping, she’s close.

You start to swipe at her clit and fit yourself lower in her. Eunbi gasps. She sits up though her forearms barely could handle the weight of what you’re doing, and stares down at your handiwork. She feels hot all over. You’re not helping calm her down. But you are aiding her orgasm, (which, by the way, is so near she can taste it.)

“What are you doing, you’re making me lose it—gonna—”

No need for her to continue for you to understand when she’s creaming all over you. Your rapid rubs on her clit don’t cease and neither do your thrusts. Eunbi’s yelling so hard that you’re afraid that even the well-built four walls of your hotel room won’t contain her noises. However, at the same time, you want them to hear her. That girl you always have your arm around on? Yep, she’s yours. That girl who always steals your socks and shirts? Just the same.

Eunbi’s mouth pinches up before sighing loudly, followed by a series of other gaspy breaths. You could hear a venerating one the moment the tightness becomes too much for you to handle and thus milks you of cum. You fill her so much that it drips off her lips. Your gentle thrusts guide the mixture of her cum and yours back inside her.

“That good enough for you?” you ask, pulling out.

Gently close her mouth and wipe the saliva that dribbles down it. When you lead it back to her mouth, she sucks on your aiding thumb. You take the liberty of running your finger along the soft pillows of her lips.

Add: “You’re incredibly demanding when you’re being fucked.”

Anyone could have guessed that it would be that way if they saw how she’s sitting there giving you teary puppy eyes.

“Of course. You know why?” She gives you a tired yet satisfied look, a triumphant one, too. “I know you would give me more if I asked.”

Fix her glasses back on the bridge of her nose. “You give yourself too much credit.”

“Okay. Fine.” 

Eunbi stands up. She steals your attention from her heaving, heavy breasts when she gets on her knees. She squirms her thighs together, letting your creampie leave visible evidence. She massages your thighs, and it makes you even more turned on. 

“Tell me,” she says, another challenge, “that you won’t give me your cum. Tell me I’m such a bad girl that I don’t deserve all of it on my face. Hell, tell me you won’t even dare give me a nice, hot load down my throat as a reward for taking you well.”

You’re speechless. How do you react to this? She’s on her knees, riling you up and about to get to sucking you off. It’s another dream come true. And you hate how she’s right to death. She always is.

“Tell me all of that,” she concludes, “and I’d know you’re a fucking liar.”

Your tongue can’t form a fragment. Not even a stutter is born in your throat. Eunbi stares up at you, her hands neatly folded on her lap. She’s waiting, and you want to tell her it’s fruitless. You can’t tell her anything because it would prove her point. Plus, she’s gorgeous, so what now?

She clicks her tongue. Hums out a contained, satisfied laugh. “Thought so.”

Here’s how it starts: she licks at your tip repeatedly, keeping in mind how sensitive it is after having just cum inside her. Sparks of heat knot there. Then she leads it between her lips, and you’re on your toes again. She just slides those full, pink lips over you so perfectly. From the base to the head she goes with barely a complaining mouth. To you, it’s everything already. But to her—oh no, don’t get it twisted: this is just the beginning of it. A teaser to what will happen.

Her tongue laps side to side while she takes you in her mouth. You let out a stilted breath.

“Damn, you really, really like that, huh?” She pauses momentarily to lick your balls, then travels her tongue to the sides of your rod. With one lick, there’s another ball of heat tightening in you. And another; you’re moaning. 

“Y-yeah.”

“I see.” (She doesn’t; she’s closed her eyes while nursing your sore cock. Okay, now she does.) “What’s something you really wanted to do to me?”

You exhale. It’s the only laugh you can manage to create. “Ah. Where do I even begin?” 

Eunbi brushes your cockhead over her pouted lips. Your toes curl. “Tell me? Please?” she says.

Talking to Eunbi is easy. You can tell her anything and she’d be there, listening patiently and adding a joke sometimes. But when you’re asked to narrate all the things you’ve wanted to do to her, it’s a difficult task.

How do you say you’ve wanted to bend her over a desk while you finish between her legs?

How do you say you’ve strained for the opportunity to ask her out, with the first date being consummated by steamy, romantic sex by the moon?

How do you say you’ve wished for everything, from romantically cheesy to filthily rough, when it comes to her?

“I—I’ve thought about cumming in your throat,” you admit. That’s the first step. You run your fingers through her hair. Take care not to mess the braids. “Making you swallow all of it.”

Eunbi looks smug. “Sure, I can do that,” she chirps. “I mean, I’m me, right?”

“You’re a brat.”

“So make me shut up. Stuff this fat cock down my throat. Make me gag with your load. You always wanted to, right?”

Eunbi’s a challenging girl. She pushes you to go the extra mile, makes you do things you never thought you could. Tonight is no different.

You don’t care to keep the aesthetics of her hairdo anymore. You bunch her hair up in one tight ponytail then shove yourself inside. No gentleness in your body, you feed her wet and waiting mouth.

What bests the other in terms of tightness: her pussy or her throat? You don’t know. Can’t choose properly either. Observe anyway: this orifice provides the perfect wetness and a tongue that services you with glides and licks. Then you have that tight hole when you push yourself deep. You can feel her breaths being blocked by your girth.

Start to thrust away. In the beginning, she still has it in her to suck. You can feel the strength of it doing away at your length. But now, she can barely breathe to even do it. You’re just pushing her face into your stomach and her nose to your navel. You’re using her, which you’ve sworn you never would do. But she’s asking for it. Can’t you break your oath just once? Or at least, whenever she asks for it?

“Can I say how pretty you look like this?” 

The blush on her cheeks adds to the aura of it all. Her eyes are glowing with tears as they blink at you, and she’s started to salivate all over you. She can’t take it all, yet she’s so determined to that you want to stop and praise her. As you fuck her face sloppily, the thought that she’s beautiful still hasn’t left your head. Even when you’re ruining her, you’re still starstruck.

You’re a little flustered yourself. She’s so gorgeous that it sometimes makes you want to go call every visual storm in a rainforest ugly. She’s the prettiest little raindrop, and you stand by that.

“You’ll be good, won’t you? You’ll take all that I’ve got for you?”

She nods so innocently you wouldn’t think that she was having her face used.

She’s promised you to swallow all of your cum, and Kwon Eunbi? She never breaks promises.

Twist the ponytail you’ve bunched together to push her head firm to your stomach. She chokes, her throat constricting. Just what you wanted. You limit the movement of your hips so that you could shove that pretty face into you and make her put that mouth to good use. She’s good at that; even with her gags that somehow sound more heavenly than concerning, she takes and takes and takes your length. 

Pounding away, you bask in the squeeze of her throat, her hold on your thighs, her eyes tearing up. Her glasses are lopsided, and this time you don’t fix them. You caress her cheek then tilt her chin up. Her mouth’s an easy place to access in this position. The imprint of your cock bobs in her thin neck.

“Oh!” she gasps for air once you retreat. 

She sucks sloppily on you when you rub yourself on the inside of her cheek to lead you to a climax. After you’re certain it’s right around the corner, you start to jerk off in front of her face. As much as you’d love to completely release her, you want to see Eunbi fill her mouth with your semen.

Eunbi’s a good girl, so you found out. She doesn’t need instructions for her to cleverly part her lips and wait for it. Her heavy breaths fan your penis.

“Almost there, little raindrop,” you say, “just be good and wait.”

She sticks her tongue out and you aim for it. Eunbi closes in and fills the top of her tongue with your thick release. It pools in her mouth so satisfyingly that you almost wish you could keep cumming forever—not for the pleasure of it but to see her keep that desperate face on.

“Swallow.”

Eunbi shows off the plentiful evidence of your orgasm puddling in her mouth, then does so. After she gulps, she pants. Laughs a little, too. She has a way of finding humor in the most absurd situations. For example: your professor’s voice cracking in the middle of a rant. Your dad calling her “a very well-mannered young lady.” Having her face fucked.

“Do you know you’re, ah, shaking?” she asks, fixing her exposed bosom back in her bra. 

(You are.)

(But, to be fair, she’s made a mess on the carpeted hotel room floor. That’s kinda worse. The saliva can’t be differentiated from her girl cum. But at least yours can.)

“Thanks for letting me know,” you say anyway.

“Anytime.”

Amazing how things could grow awkward after you just abused her throat. You’re like two strangers trying to make conversation, and you’re everything but that, aren’t you? 

“How ‘bout this: d’you know that you glow after being fucked?”

“Shouldn’t you do it again?” She climbs onto the bed you’ve collapsed on. She places your hand on her thigh. “Keep me pretty?”

There’s nothing that could make her look unflattering. The messy hair is wild but she’s still a princess. But if that’s what she wants… well, she’s the last person you’d want to say no to.

“You’re insatiable.” Nevertheless, you let her bring your hand to her used core. You love how she stiffens when you start to rub circles around her clit.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t, too.” Eunbi presses her mound close to the heel of your hand. For a moment, she’s frozen. Then, her lips are next to your ear, telling you of a tale older than her lust. “I want you to do everything you want with me, everything.”

You’ve lost count of all the things you want to do to her. From things as sweet as tucking her in after a bad day to the filthiest like defiling that ass since that day she wore cycling shorts alone, your mind just runs with ideas. You can’t choose.

“You’ve kept me waiting,” she whines out. Her sighs grow sporadic. “So give it all to me.”

“Like I said: incredibly demanding.”

“You asshole.” She chokes this out as you start to roughly prod her nub. “You fucking… gatekeeper of dick.”

“Well, it’s my cock. I think I get to decide what happens with it.”

“You’re selfish.” Her voice gets higher. Her winces grow often, and Eunbi’s starting to babble out these little words of biteless barks. “You’re so, so cruel. You don’t know what I’d do, I will—I will—”

Before it happens, you place your hand on the back of her neck. She doesn’t even get to glare at you because it all happens so fast. You don’t know how you did it. Not just this, but everything else: how you managed to befriend her, how you managed to lay her. 

How you managed to push her not too gently to the wall, her chest pressing its solidness. How you managed to perfectly time it so that her head is tilted to the side so you could still catch a glimpse of that face. How you managed to pull up her bra and free those tits.

How you managed to say: “Do you know what I would do to you?”

Because there’s a million things you could do to Kwon Eunbi—the girl you’ve got pinned beneath you who’s absolutely tense with want. Your little kisses melt the freeze of her shoulders; you can hear her soft moans again.

Her lashes flutter over the undersides of her eyes. “Please,” she squeaks out, “do tell.”

“I’d rather show.”

Eunbi hums strainedly. You pierce through her again, It’s the second time and her velvety pussy still barely budges at your contradictingly welcome visit. Press your stomach into her back till you’re buried deep inside her. As a result, she’s shoved harder into the wall. Then you retrieve yourself handlessly from her, then put yourself in again.

She pants heavily, matching those of yours. She’s shaking, the only leverage to stay upright is your body on hers. Your rhythm is not too different from earlier and Eunbi still finds herself seeing it as something so new. She still spasms and quakes around you. Anything you give to her, she takes gladly. Each thrust pushes out a feeble cry from her throat and from within.

Her arms stretch to support her stance to the painted wall. You adore them, like you do to every other part of her. But these—these beautiful, strong arms whose minimal bulges hint of well-trained muscles—they do a number on you. You run your hands all along them, not making it easier for her. Everywhere you touch delivers a quiver running through her body. 

Although you touch first from the sides, her chest already feels big. You caress her curves before placing your hands right on her breasts. They’re your guilty pleasure, the kind that makes you pray for forgiveness because you don’t even know if you’re worthy of stealing glances at them. Maybe you are, because you’re getting to hold them. It’s a divine sign, if you do say so yourself.

Clutch them. Use them to plunge to places left unnavigated in her cunt. She’s dripping all over you, and it somehow plays the role of lubricant. It lets you thrust easily and keep her wet enough for more.

Any touch you trace on her beautiful body makes her quake. You brush your fingertips lightly over her clit, and the squeeze of her hole strengthens. You massage her fantastic hips and waist and you’re rewarded with a feral cry. Kissing her does no good in helping her calm down because, if anything, she gets more worked up.

“Oh, look at that, Eunbi.” You continue thrusting in her, pushing her limits far from the bounds, and she’s got her hands on her face, tears on her palms. “You’re so desperate. You squeeze so tight around me.”

Standing is something she’ll soon be incapable of doing for her legs are beaten down by your movements. “Not exactly my fault,” she says. “You know who’s to blame? You. You and that smug face and smug everything. You—” 

How is it possible that you  can make her garble but lose her words as well? Eunbi’s excessive whining comes to a halt as you plummet said cock deeper. Silent screams escape her open mouth and she’s clinging to the surface in front of her like she’d slip if she didn’t. There’s a possibility that that’s true—when you let go of her hip, she almost falls.

“You—” If you didn’t know Eunbi, you’d think her voice had contempt in it.

“What about me? Can you tell me?” You know that’ll annoy her.

It does, for she says: “W-wow, big ego.” She whimpers quietly at the soft kisses you place on her neck. The circumstances don’t allow her insult to hit properly. It just swells your pride.

“I know another thing from me and mine that's big.”

Eunbi growls. “Then put it to good—fucking—use.”

She has a point. Why are you fucking her rough when you could be even more so? Your touch climbs from her waist, tiny, to her boobs that can be described as every adjective in the thesaurus except for that. Afterwards, you carry out a brutal pace which drives her so into the wall that you’re not sure how she hasn’t made a dent in it yet. Her only protection from its hardness is your hands on her bust. 

Nothing can protect her from your hardness, however. It’s almost cruel how pink that milky white skin is, culprit of the defilement being your core that slams and slams into it. But you know she likes it this way. So why stop? Of course, there’s no reason to.

“God, please– you’re—” Her expression changes. Pleasure becomes bliss as bliss becomes paradise. “Oh no, I think I’m close.”

No quote from philosophers and learned individuals could inspire you like that simple statement. Yes, she’s close to cumming. And it’s because of you, she just confirmed it. So you tweak her hard nipples and tilt your moves up. You must have hit a certain spot because a simple “oh” turns to a scream. Several of them actually, each increasing the smacks of your hips on her butt and your lips’ ravages on that delicate, vulnerable swan’s neck.

“Hngh, I can’t! I can’t, I can’t, harder, please!” she yells, falling back to the wall and shaking. 

Your moves become frequent and rough. Your hands join in with the roughness; they begin to harshly pinch and grab her boobs until she unravels. 

Eunbi suppresses her scream into a whiny cry and falls into you, unable to keep her balance anymore. The flood rages in her core and overflows. Your cum slides out of her pussy as she tightens and loosens. She frantically pushes her ass back into you to keep the climax on a high, coupled with sharp shrieks of affirmation.

“Keep fucking me,” she rasps, “keep ruining me.”

Her voice ranges between low and sexy to high and needy. Both sides, however, are draining you. It’s the way the sweat sticks to her gasping face and how her legs are practically limp. She’s completely under your control, and you… like it? Is that how it’s supposed to work?

“Yes, yes—don’t stop.” Her nails scratch the paint. “Don’t, wait, not inside me. Okay? You can’t.”

You manage to successfully quiet your groan of disappointment. You pull out reluctantly. Tell yourself you already ejaculated in her moments ago, so it’s only fair for it to be once. However, your cock’s still rock hard. What do you do about it? You’ve already done more than you should with her. It was all supposed to be just one kiss. How did you get here?

She turns around and places her hands on your shoulders. Her palms are sweaty in spite of the air-conditioner breezing in the room. The exhaustion on her face from sex is there, and so is this little serious look. 

“I want you to cum,” she says, “in my ass.”

Thoughts. Too many of those, none pure. Thoughts of Eunbi that didn’t stay as fantasies because look at them bleeding into reality. Silence, too—you’re not saying they speak louder than words, but of course you can tell she’s serious with those watery bunny eyes.

“What?”

And of course you gotta act like a prude. What the hell? You? A prude? That’s a fucking lie. You’ve pleasured yourself countless times to the thought of her and that body, so why are you backtracking? As Eunbi would say, right after you made fun of lazy students while never studying much yourself, “Hypocrite.”

“What?” Eunbi drags your hands down that supple ass and makes you squeeze its full cheeks. “I want you to get your money’s worth from that expensive lube and pound me. And don’t you even think of stopping.”

You glance at the plastic-wrapped bottle on the bedside table, then back at her. It just doesn’t make sense. You—you and your awkwardness and spontaneous bursts of overconfidence—getting to cross the line? Everyone has probably doubted their worth one way or another, in stories written the same as yours, but is she serious? Does she really, really plan on letting you do it?

You look down at your bare feet. She sighs loudly, obviously and slightly irritated at your hesitation. Only an idiot would pass up that opportunity. But maybe you want to be an idiot—because fucking her would mean wanting her. You’ve already done both. You’ve made her cum twice and always wanted to do so, always desired her. To you, it just makes you worse than the rest of the men who vied and strived for her.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Eunbi,” you tell her quietly. Let them rage at your words as if your life were a movie and they were a judgmental audience, but it’s true. You can’t violate more unwritten rules. 

She lifts her head, her face parallel to your own. “What if I want you to?”

-

You blackmailed everyone into reading your story, you’ll say it straight up. This isn’t a love story or tragedy, or whatever. This is a tale about you being too generous. You’re always giving Eunbi what she wants. Every key point’s been triggered by her wishes—from her bailing answers out of you right up to this passionate Christmas Eve. You’re the genie who keeps giving her extra. Oh, you’re a pretty girl, you see, you’d say, blue hand stroking her hair, so of course you can ask for more. It’s all on me, beautiful. All on me.

You keep granting. And granting. And granting. 

“Spread those legs.”

Because it’s all written on paper, in the law of nature: she’ll be the one who calls you names and drags you around. But here? Nothing remotely close to that. She’s the girl who sits on the counter of the kitchen table, and opens her legs. Why? Because you told her to. You’ve already fucked all the sass out of that sharp-tongued mouth. There’s little left.

In this wealth-stealing coup of a hotel room, she’s the one who does what you want. She’d slacken her mouth to have you give her a throatpie. She’d ride you like she would a pillow if you asked her. But in a way, behind the scenes, it’s her screenwriting it all. She’s got it predicted from front to base—you’ll fuck her here. And there. You’ll do what she wants and do what you want. Make it meet in the middle.

Because, you think as you slick her asshole and your cock with the lubricant, that’s what friends do.

The edges of Eunbi’s palms are on the counter. You can see them struggle to keep her body upright. You can’t really say you blame the girl when the two of you have done too many things to fit into one night. Anal is another you’re trying to squeeze into a tight schedule.

But that’s what she wants. And, (heads up—skip if you don’t like spoilers): you just so happen to have a habit of being too easily swayed by pretty women.

“Open more.”

“There’s enough already,” she whines, words pitched and tiny. 

“I know, Eunbi. Baby.” You’re clinging on that high of seeing the color rose her cheeks. In every way, red (can’t be pink when it’s that dark) looks good on her. 

Eunbi’s breath skips a pattern. Her ass retreats at your touch yet goes back every time for you to hold. “You’re too good at this,” she says, speaking as if the words were a foreign language. Which is to say: cute. It’s like when she speaks English; it comes out sounding like fresh, pretty talk.

“Glad you’ve come to terms with that.”

“Wow.” Can’t tell if she said that at your cock pressing to her anal hole or at your quickness to speak. “Okay.”

“I mean, I’m serious. I only called you baby. How does that make me good?”

Eunbi coos when you touch the side of her face. Hold its jawline over the line your palm calls its own. Glimmering sweat and exhaustion and lust, she still has ways to make you go crazy. Your hand comforting her shudders nearly makes her forget you just want her to admit that you’re cut from the rest.

Both of you know what’s true anyway. 

“I just…” Eunbi kisses the space between your index and thumb. “I just fall in love too fast.”

“How fast are we talking?”

“I won’t tell you, it’s been crystal clear since the time I met you. But for this?” She taps your hip impatiently. “As fast as you can.”

Her voice deepens, a stretch from her cheerful pitch. Where did that come from? She smirks at the change in your face, but she can’t hide the desperation in hers. 

Her hole and your cock are shiny with the lubrication. Turns out the lube was a good buy; getting the tip inside her proves to be easy. However, it can’t help your job in hilting the entirety inside her. Thighs that glisten with wetness and lube wrap around you. Her midriff tenses, and so does her hole. So do her hands on your arms.

There’s already her cum and yours wetting her ass, as well as the lube you bought that was crazy expensive. So why is she still so tight? Her squeals thin and her face makes clear the labor. You’re spreading her apart in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.

She’s straining, too. Eunbi’s using every method in the book to allow your width to enter more: breathing deeply, relaxing her body, spreading her legs. But they don’t seem to work for her when her ass is only focused on closing around the little you’ve put inside her.

“Why do you have to be so big?” she whines. She pushes her cheeks to your stomach, inching you south and into her. “Why does it have to feel so good? Don’t just stand there. Fuck me. Split me open, I need it.”

Her wish is your command. That’s three wishes she’s making there and you’ll grant all of them. In a hard moment of pure will, you pull yourself out and slam yourself harshly into her tight body. Your attempt is successful; your whole girth is snugly hugged by her round butt. The enclosed walls of her anal ring are so overwhelming that you’re close to blowing your load already.

If you’re a genie, Eunbi’s the taker of wishes. She takes and takes and takes, even with your cock prodding past the hurting limits of her little asshole, and she does it oh so well. She’s probably seeing ghosts or the stars they’ve become with the way she’s not even looking at you anymore. No, her body is slanted up to allow you to give what you can. And by what you can, you mean your all.

Eunbi sobs and hugs you close. For comfort? Assurance? Speed? You’ll give her all three. That’s six wishes there, but with her, there’s no limit. You hold her as you find a perfect pace, one that makes her thighs squish on the ledge of the table and has her mouth gaping while you’re making another orifice of hers do the same.

When did pain feel this good? Eunbi doesn’t know. But she loves and accepts it. She’s reciprocating your thrusts with her own ones. It feels too good, so good that the sounds coming out of her are difficult to comprehend. She’s moaning, yet crying, too. Crying yet gasping in delight. Gasping in delight yet panting as if it were too much.

There’s one thing you’re certain of, though: she’s enjoying it. Wetness drools from her cunt and onto your shaft. It’s only a tiny bit of help, but it already aids in fucking her ass open sloppily. Her breaths are warm gushes of wind on your skin, and soon in the air as she throws her head back. Have to place a hand behind her neck to prevent her from bumping onto the all-too-near cupboard.

“So good, so big, can feel you t-throbbing,” she mumbles. Her lips purse before releasing a sharp moan. You’ve just placed your mouth on one of her breasts. “Know you wanted to do this. Saw you, hnn, staring at my ass.”

“Who can blame me?” You lightly slap her backside. “This thing is the best.”

“You got me so...” Eunbi’s gasp becomes a little lost ghost when you start to suck on her brown nipple. “I wore them, those ridiculous shorts, just for you. Wanted you to make me feel good, make me hurt, oh, I want it so bad—”

Her words pierce and break. Their propriety becomes worse yet the willpower they induce becomes stronger. Rapidity becomes a pastime when you’re pumping her. Of course, that’s already a given when the girl’s absolutely incapable of keeping quiet. Anything you do to her she reacts to. She’s still the same girl in the sheets as she is when she’s out and about, and it makes this sinful act—anally ruining her—seem like something so endearing.

Your thumb starts to rub her clit again. You’ve done this plenty of times in this hotel room right after the heat started, yet it still gauges the same reaction from her. She can’t stay still. She wants to stay in one place to receive you better but there’s the pleasurable pain in her ass, your mouth on her bosom, your hand feeling her up. She can’t take it, and you can’t either. She’s a combination of wetness and tightness and loudness and shrillness—you’re both too much for the other.

A lit match to a flamed lighter.

“Oh, god, no.” Eunbi’s teeth dig into your shoulder before retracting. Signs of her sobs linger and roll down her perfect face that wields an expression you admit to have fantasized often on her. “You’re gonna make me cum again. You're gonna make me cum again, I can’t handle it. Please—fffu—”

You stuff your fingers inside her. Match the pace with how you’re fucking her into the kitchen wall. She clenches around you and doesn’t let go. The wet squelching sounds compels you to be harsher with her. Fuck her like it doesn’t mean anything, just like she wants you to.

“Mmm!” Eunbi shrieks at the harsh intrusions she thought would be over. 

“Not over yet.” You kiss her. “Still gotta cream this perfect ass.”

The promise of that makes her blush. Red and sweaty, she exercises those toned arms by using them in fucking herself on your cock. The pleasure is addicting, and she’s still keeping you to that oath to cum inside her a second time. 

She’s so wet that it’s almost unbelievable. Your fingers curl, spread, jam themselves in her, and each time they pull out they’re soaked to the knuckles. Her clit twitches and you get your touch on there again. A little leak of cum wrinkles your hand from it.

“You really want it, huh?” Hiss at how she bounces that jiggling rear onto you. “Just a little more, baby. You’re gonna have to do much better than that.”

Since when did Eunbi do what you say? Since when did she do it with this much enthusiasm? Despite your shaft wrecking her insides and rearranging her guts, along with the orgasm she’s had, she perseveres. She rolls her body, a snake’s dance, and takes you in further. You admire how much you’ve spread her. Hold her backside to guide her. 

You pity the housekeeper who’d have to clean up evidence of your sin. There’s her wetness on the kitchen table, the smell of carnal need in the air, sheets torn by the little power Eunbi’s fingernails have. But there’s no regrets, you think, for this one:

An explosion. The kind that doesn’t kill but brings her to life. Its origin is the base of your cock and birth inside her tight little ass. Hold her close. Slam inside her as if you were mad at her, while she lets out gasped repetitions of “oh, oh, oh.” Now you pull out your digits and resort to furiously rubbing her nub, effectively making her even tighter.

“That’s it, fuck, such a good girl,” you groan. Grip her ass so tightly that it draws a yelp out of her. After it’s all done, you pull out. 

“You,” she drawls when you pull out. She spreads her legs and stares at the semen dripping out of her holes. At the mess you’ve made on the floor, the bed, the table, everything. “You…”

She doesn’t continue what she’s saying, but you’re pretty sure you got the gist of it. It was you who fucked her. It was you who made her climax so many times in one night. It was you, her best friend, who did her in.

“Yeah,” you say, laughing. 

Somehow, the whole experience is making you guilty. You feel like the richest man in the world, the luckiest, too. So why do you feel you did something wrong? 

Eunbi narrows her eyes. She knows you too well. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

You don’t.

“Now kiss me.” Her words fan your chin, a haunting love spell. “Again.”

You do.

-

Christmas comes, and by then you've flown home. You’re at Sakura’s house to celebrate. Green and red are all over the place: red cupcakes on a baking tray, old books leaning against each other, the rug beneath you and her friends. There’s a giant statue of Santa Claus, overweight and jolly, at the corner next to the Christmas tree. What used to be under the plant were gifts Eunbi specifically said not to touch until 12 a.m midnight. No sleeping in now that you’re well aware that the man himself isn’t real.

Sakura’s undoing the ribbon on her gift, but her eyes are on you and Eunbi. “There’s something really weird going on with you two,” she says. 

The girls nod and hum choruses of agreement: yes, he and the bunny leader are acting odd lately. No, they don’t know why. Is it because of the vacation? Seasonal depression (but with Christmas lights!)? They’re gonna find out for sure.

You and Eunbi look at each other. Your faces hold an unreadable expression, until you take an interest in one evergreen branch and her in the collar of her ugly Christmas sweater.

“Nah,” you say.

“Nothing much,” she echoes, drinking her hot chocolate.

Yena groans, tired of your pretentiousness. “You fucked, didn’t you?” 

A liquid spray of sugar lands on the rug, courtesy of Eunbi. The girls begin cackling, slapping their hands on their thighs and on each other. You look away to manage your laughter. Unfortunately, it’s as loud as Eunbi’s scheming little members.

“That means yes!” Yujin shouts gleefully. Her dimples are printed on her cheeks.  “You owe me ten thou, Yena unnie!”

Christmas spirit truly is in the air. They’re jumping up and down, laughing and cheering, while you two are mortified. You’re the Grinches of the holidays, but even that can’t sour their happiness. 

“It worked!”

“I can’t believe it worked!”

“They’re so obvious about it, too!”

“No wonder Eunbi unnie was limping when they came home!”

The whole thing was a setup. It’s all dawning in on you. Why else would eleven girls pool ridiculous amounts of money for a two-person trip? You’ve given them the best Christmas present of their lives unknowingly. 

But with how much Eunbi loves them, she’s okay with that. 

You are, too.

-

“Hey.”

You lift yourself up from the comfort of the pillows and sheets. Eunbi’s standing at your bedpost. She still has on the sweater, courtesy of your mother, and her ears are still pink. That’s one of the cutest things about her: when she gets shy or humiliated, it’s pretty obvious.

How do you go about this? It’s been awkward and silent ever since you had sex. It’s so unlike your dynamics, and it’s scaring you. You don’t want to lose her. Is that the same on her end?

At the end of the day, though, she remains your best friend. You’ll always reserve a place for her with you.

“Hi.” You pat your bedclothes, and she sits.

She looks away as she pushes a paper shopping bag in your arms. “Merry Christmas.”

You wonder how you didn’t see it peeking from her tiny back. The bag isn’t too heavy, but it obviously is something large with how much you can feel whatever is inside it. Quickly stapled and taped, it’s a last-minute present for sure. Did she forget you? Of course, your heart squeezes with the idea of it.

“Way to time your—”

“Don’t be stubborn and just open it. Please?”

Do so. 

It’s a bag. Not just any bag—it’s a brand new original of the backpack she lost you all those months ago. She’s got it down to the same color (gray), design (two pockets, with black zippers and one for a bottle) and size (medium). The only thing that sets it apart from your first one is the unavailability of shreds and tatters on the bottom side.

Stare at it, dumbfounded. How did she track it down? It’s sure to be expensive, seeing as it isn’t thrifted and is wrapped in the branded plastic of an overseas branch. “Eunbi,” you say.

“It was shipped later than expected.” She shrugs, trying to play it off. Still, you can hear her laughing shyly. “Hope you like it.”

“I told you to save yourself the trouble.”

You lift the bag up and stare at it. The transparent plastic allows you to marvel at its beauty. The faint scent of newness fills your nostrils. 

But the real beauty is the one who sits on your bed late on Christmas night, with her hands folded neatly on her lap like a Catholic schoolgirl. A few locks of her hair are braided with red ribbons to go with the season of giving. Her brows are as dark as her glasses, her cheeks as red as her ugly sweater.

“I like it when you trouble me.”

As always, her statements hold more meaning than they should. And, like you could through her eyewear, you can see right through them. Knowing what she tried to say causes you to inch closer to her. The sides of your thighs press against each other.

“Makes me want to trouble you more,” you reply. 

She lifts her head. Already the light cockiness she so often brings with her pours back into her face, and you couldn’t be more relieved to see it again. “So do it.”

Things have a way of coming back to you. Your bag, the thrill of meeting her again, Eunbi. Not everything will return, but then it’s probably just a sign that things aren’t gonna be bad forever. There will be days you’ll get to have a vacation with her again, the promise of December’s Christmasses, being with her and her friends you’ve grown to love. There will be days for new beginnings, like this one. This is a fresh start with her. There will also always be days you’ll do whatever she wants, which somehow align with what you want too.

Refer to this:

You kiss her, your little trouvaille.

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfiction #fanfiction #kpop fanfic #fanfic #girl group smut #female idol smut #soloist smut #idol smut #izone smut #kwon eunbi smut #eunbi smut #izone eunbi smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #idol x male reader #idol x reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #pov smut #iz days of christmas #iz days of christmas 2023 #iz days of christmas 2023 day 1 #kofimission #commission

[zombiefiilm]

Next to You

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: sharing a room with the person in the bau that hates you the most makes you go through more emotions than you thought possible

warnings: kind of enemies to lovers, arguing, crying, no use of y/n, smut, nsfw - 18+ only, apology sex, soft sex, fem oral, protected p in v, praise, typical criminal minds death and unsub mentions

word count: 2.7k

Last minute cases in desolate towns in the midwest often meant that there was nowhere for the team to stay. It wasn't uncommon for you to have to pair or group up with other team members in dodgy motel rooms.

The most recent investigation had brought you all to the middle of nowhere in Nebraska, a long day ending with a drive to an motel that housed 7 rooms in total.

You, Reid and Rossi were the last to arrive so when Prentiss handed you a room key and told you that you would be sharing with Reid, it was already too late to complain.

"It's for your own good" she she grinned, picking her go-bag off the floor beside her.

"I hate you" you sighed.

"Sure you do" she was already walking off. You've been face to face with serial killers regularly, and this was just surviving a few nights in the same room as Spencer Reid, you could do this.

You walked back outside to find Reid standing in the dark by the car, right hand in this pocket and his left leaning against the black SUV.

"Looks like you're with me, Reid" you announced and the way that his face instantly dropped almost knocked you over. It was almost like you'd told him you were about to kill him.

"Come on" you began walking down to room 4, Spencer following shortly behind as you unlocked the door.

Being met with just one double bed though was enough to bring tears to your eyes. The couch looked like it had been through the war and there was no way on earth you were even touching it. And the sigh that Spencer let out made you want to rip your own hair out.

"I'm gonna sleep in the car" you quickly turned around to walk out of the door.

"You're not sleeping outside with a killer targeting women the exact same age as you on the loose" he stopped you in your tracks. He was right. "I can take the couch".

You were a little surprised at the chivalry but thankful none the less. "Are you sure?"

He didn't answer, instead dropping himself onto the couch.

Feeling content with his actions, you dropped your own bag on the floor beside the bed and told him you were going to use the bathroom before cleaning yourself up and changing into the oversized t-shirt you were using as pyjamas.

Coming out of the bathroom again, you were going to tell Reid that he was free to use the bathroom now but he simply glared at you.

It was as if he wanted to make your life hell. He always scowled at you, made snarky comments on little details about you, gloated whenever you got anything wrong. He always drove you up the walls, since you first started at the BAU, and you never knew why.

It's not like you had done anything to him, from what you knew at least. You smiled and shook his hand when you met him and even thought he was cute, you treated him just like you did with everyone else on the team, but you quickly noticed how differently he treated you.

You gave him plenty of time to warm up to you before you let yourself develop any solid opinions on him. You were warned about how he took to knew people, and you were understanding at first. But after you were several months in, and now years, and he still treated you like an outsider, you were no longer shy to expressing your dislike for him.

Other people on the team noticed it too, you, JJ, Garcia and Emily often discussing it with each other, but if one of them ever mentioned Spencer's attitude to himself, he'd deny everything and brush it off.

You really tried to not let it get to you, especially with the support from others, But man, did it upset you.

Spencer eventually got himself ready in the bathroom and came back out, silently setting himself up on the couch as you sat in the bed and did some research. There was a nice silence for a while, and then:

"Could you stop turning the pages so loud" he sounded irritated already and you hadn't even spoken to each other in the past 30 minutes.

"What?" you matched his tone, was he really trying to start a fight with you right now?

"I can't even think with how much noise you're making"

"I'm not making any noise, Reid, what's wrong with you?"

"You're flicking the pages, I can't pay attention to anything else"

"Oh so the sound of paper is able to stop boy genius in his tracks?" you mocked, pissed off at what he was choosing to do do.

He glared at you in response, he looked like he was about to blow a fuse.

"I don't know how to help you here, Reid, I'm trying to work on the case"

"Yeah, trying, it's not like you've ever actually done anything important for one" his voice had raised slightly.

"What?"

"You're practically incompetent, how you got recruited to the bureau, I'll never know" you hadn't even noticed him standing up, but it suddenly made you feel uncomfortable so you got out of the bed too, standing on the opposite side of the room.

"Excuse me?" you were completely shocked now, how had he gotten so far.

"You heard me. You have no place on this team. All you do is mess things up, you can't figure anything out and then you go and let our unsubs go"

Oh

You knew exactly what he was talking about. During one of your first cases, you had unintentionally informed an unsub that the FBI were searching for him during an interview with his wife and he got away. He was dangerous and you had never forgiven yourself for the people who had died before he was finally caught.

You just broke down in tears after that. It felt like he'd re-opened the wound right there and then.

"Fuck you" you spat through tears. You couldn't even look at him now, turning your back to him to sit on the bed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry" it was like he had suddenly snapped out of the unexplained rage he was just experiencing.

You felt the bed dip as he sat down behind you, and then a hand rest on your shoulder.

You were edging on losing the ability to breathe. It wasn't even just remembering the worst experience you had on the job, it was the fact that Spencer had used it against you just to get a reaction out of you. You wouldn't have even expected that from him.

He just sat behind you as you attempted to regain some sense of composure, not saying anything else. Was he finally feeling some sense of remorse for how horribly he had been treating you?

Once he noticed that your breathing had slowed, he called out your last name, your work name. It felt so impersonal in that moment. Not that you'd ever been on a first name basis with him, but you gave no reaction to him.

He tried again, squeezing your shoulder this time. You gave him nothing.

But then he whispered your name. Your first name. It was quiet, apologetic.. desperate.

You sniffled, wiping the tears from under your eyes before you turned around to look at him. He was sitting right behind you in the bed now, his big brown eyes practically burning a hole in your head. You knew you probably looked like a mess now, face red and wet, eyes puffy, and hair mangled.

"God, I'm sorry" his hand reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek "I'm such an idiot, I can't believe I said that".

You flinched at his touch, not saying anything back to him.

"If I could take that back I would, I did not mean it. It was just in the moment" he tried to hold your face in his hand but you avoided his touch.

"In the moment?" you repeated "What even was that moment. It's like you wanted to have an argument with me for fun".

"I don't want to argue with you, I just.."

"You just hate me" you finished.

"No! I don't hate you, I'm just stupid and don't know how to deal with how I feel about you"

You looked directly into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. "How you feel about me?"

You managed to catch his gaze as it briefly flicked down to your lips. It felt like something was drawing you closer as you moved towards him.

"Please, let me make it up to you".

"No. Are you saying you've treated me like this because you can't figure out what to do about your feelings for me? What are you? Twelve? You've made my life miserable."

The tears spilled out again, what was he even saying?

"Please, just let me show you how sorry I am"

His voice was laced in what could only be described as desperation, it was making you want to hear him out, forgive him, and you didn't quite know why.

"Please" his voice was on the verge of breaking.

Your walls were crumbling down, it was like he'd cast a spell on you

"please"

You only nodded, allowing him to to lean in closer to you, finally cupping your head in his hands and softly pressing his lips against yours.

It was like he was purposefully avoiding any roughness as he gently kissed, from your lips down your jaw and then down your neck. He looked at you then, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question. And you nodded.

He loosely grabbed the hem of your shirt, and you let him lift it up over your head.

He didn't touch you yet, kissing your lips again as he began to slide your underwear down. You manoeuvred enough for him to take them off you completely. He was so gentle that you didn't even think of feeling self-conscious being completely undressed in front of him.

He urged you to spread your legs and quickly laid down on his stomach in between them.

You barely had time to blink before his lips were on you, kissing up the inside of your thigh. as his hands wrapped around you, holding you down.

Then, he was softly licking up your cunt, softly moaning to himself as he tasted you. He avoided your clit, dragging his tongue everywhere except where you needed him most.

"Spence" the nickname drove him crazy, he finally felt like maybe you could be his.

He finally flicked his tongue over your clit and you couldn't help but push your hips against his face, a whine slipping from your lips.

He only egged you on, using your legs to pull closer to his mouth. He kept circling your clit, increasing the amount of pressure he used as your squirmed under him.

Every few moments, he'd bring his tongue down again, dipping into your hole gently, gathering your slick, before suckling at your clit again.

Slurs of his name, swears and a few 'oh my gods' were the only coherent sounds that could leave your mouth. He had gotten you incredibly sensitive and you felt like you could tip over the edge at any moment.

Spencer himself couldn't stop himself from moaning at your taste, your sounds, how your skin felt under his hands. The vibrations pushing you further.

He suddenly sucked a bit harsher, almost nipping your clit before going back to his previously gentle movements.

The contrast between the rare harsher movements and his gentle attention had you bucking into his face, only to be stopped by his hands pushing you down.

All of a sudden, you felt your release. You moaned much to loud as you writhed under Spencer's mouth, him carrying you through your orgasm.

Just as you felt yourself come down, you went to pull yourself away from Spencer, but he refused to let you, keeping you pinned down to the bed as he let himself taste your release.

"Spencer, please" you were so incredibly sensitive at this point, your body jolting at every small movement. You had to bite the side of your hand to stop yourself from yelling out from the pleasure.

He suddenly pulled off of you with a soft *pop* ad sat up, quickly kicking his trousers and boxers off as you reached forward and loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

Now that he too was undressed, you felt more equal, it was almost metaphorical as if he was agreeing to end the weird tension between the both of you.

He sat between your legs again, lifting your legs around his hips. You hadn't noticed the condom he had taken out from his pocket until you heard the crinkle of the foil as he opened it.

He quickly rolled it down his shaft as you finally got the chance to look at him. You felt yourself clench in anticipation.

He finally lined himself up and you were subconsciously pushing your hips down towards him.

"Please, Reid" you practically begged as he leaned forward but he stopped at your words.

You looked into his eyes, pleading for him to fill you up, but he didn't.

"Spencer" you whined, and he quickly rutted his hips into you.

"Thats it, good girl" he praised as the air was knocked from your lungs.

He started slow, using one hand to prop himself up and the other to finally caress your skin. It was like he was trying to memorise the curves of your body with one hand. He grabbed at your hips, held your waist, squeezed your breasts, as he slowly picked up his pace.

He couldn't get enough of feeling your body as he pinched your nipple, marvelling at the way it hardened further.

"God, you're so beautiful" his hand finally fell down to your clit, rubbing small circles in time with his thrusts.

You couldn't even get a single word out at this point, too tired and desperate to say anything.

"I'm so sorry baby" if he didn't have your attention before, the name had definitely gotten it now. "I'll be so good for you from now on" you could tell he was close from the waver in his voice, but you too felt your 2nd release approaching.

"You're so perfect" his rambling was interrupted by groans, "never want to leave your side ever again" his thrusts had last there rhythm as he circled your clit quicker, desperate to get you to cum before him.

It didn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap, vision blurring as he continued his thrusts. Not much after, he plunged into you one last time. You could feel him coming inside as he filled up the condom, his chest now flush against yours.

You both laid there for a few moments, enjoying the hot, sticky embrace as you caught your breathe.

Silently, Spencer pulled out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling his boxers on. He then got you cleaned up, helping you put on your own underwear afterwards, before you got into the bed.

He tried to walk over to the couch but you were not letting that happen. “Get in here Reid" you muttered, laughing quietly as he practically jumped in beside you.

As he faced you in the bed, he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "I'll make it up to you, I'm sorry, about everything" he kissed you once more, it would take more time for you to forgive him, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x you smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x y/n smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencerreid #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid fluff

[snowfll]

Hi! Can you write one about Tom Blyth and actress!reader where after filming a movie they grew closer and closer until finally one day Tom or reader or both confess their feelings for one another? Or maybe it can be them both being oblivious and everyone basically knows they’re in love until one of their costars helps them finally confess to one another? Thank you!

Baby, You're Perfect; Tom Blyth

pairing - Tom Blyth x actress!reader summary - its easy to fall for Tom on screen and even easier to fall for him in real life words - 1.31k warning - js fluff! Tom's a cutie note - I tried my best! I hope you like it :3 idk why but the pictures aren't working. trying to fix it asap

"You two are awfully close."

Although neither of you answered the question, the interviewer could sense the unspoken truth lingering in the air, revealed by the way both of you were flustered.

Working alongside Tom on a romance film created a bond that extended beyond the scripted lines. Having played his love interest on screen, the chemistry between the two of you was through the roof.

From the moment you sat down in your designated seat at the table, he caught your eye. You were curious to see how the chemistry read would play out. It turns out you two got along extremely well.

“Well, yes, seeing him every day has that effect; he’s such a sweetheart,” you confessed during the interview, a smile playing on your lips.

“Oh, don’t listen to her; she’s over-exaggerating," Tom interjected with a playful grin, emphasizing the chemistry within your off-screen dynamic.

He is a known gentleman, bringing you flowers every week on set—a thoughtful act born from the understanding of your love for them. The cast playfully teased him for it, drawing parallels from his on-screen character, who loved giving gifts to his girl. You adored his actions; no one had ever brought you flowers before.

As filming wrapped up, a sense of melancholy settled in, originating from the reluctance to part ways—you enjoyed your time on set. The days were a blend of shooting scenes or relaxing with Tom wherever you were, no matter what you were with him at all times.

Now that you were on the press tour for your film, you and Tom were closer than ever. The days were a whirlwind, going from interview to interview and then straight to the hotel to catch up on rest. The limited days off were cherished, offering you both a break from the spotlight.

Walking through different cities with Tom by your side became a treasured routine, despite the presence of paparazzi trailing your every move. Cameras flashed every time you went out with your hands intertwined, capturing moments that fueled rumors and speculations.

“Tom! Are you and Ms. Jones matching shoes on purpose?” A paparazzo called out, drawing attention to the coordinated footwear chosen during your shopping spree.

“Ms. Jones, do you have anything to comment on the dating rumors between you and Mr. Blyth?” another inquired. That is what most of them ask nowadays. Could they sense the feelings you had for your co-star? Ignoring the persistent questions, Tom guided you away from the crowd of cameras, seeking refuge in the waiting car.

“That was a lot,” he remarked after a few minutes of silence, his tone carrying exhaustion.

“It was. I can’t wait to get back to my hotel room.” He sensed something was off as you muttered your response. You were always able to hold a conversation with him; there was never a dull moment between you two. Though he knew you were tired from the day’s activities, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had done anything wrong.

As the car pulled up to the hotel, you hastily exited and rushed up to your room, leaving him behind. Guilt gnawed at you, but facing him after the intrusion of the paparazzi was a challenge you weren’t ready to tackle.

A few hours later, a soft knock at your door interrupted the solitude. You welcomed him in before crawling under the covers once again; there was no reason to ignore him.

“What’s going on, sweetie?” He looked at you with concern filling his eyes as he sat down next to you on the bed. “I know it's not because you’re tired; you’ve been napping for a while. Please talk to me." His genuine concern cut through the unspoken tension.

Once you didn’t answer, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of bed. The two of you made your way to the door, where he handed you your shoes.

“Where are we going?” You questioned while standing back up, to which he replied by telling you your destination is someplace you would enjoy.

He dragged you all the way to the car and closed your door as you got in the passenger seat, like a true gentleman. The two of you drove around with the windows down, screaming along to your shared playlist.

“Are you feeling better, now?” He turned down the music, waiting to hear your answer. “I am, thank you. Would you like me to explain?" Communication was very important to you, and unable to deceive him, you felt compelled to reveal the truth.

“In all honesty, the paparazzi got too overwhelming. Especially with all the dating questions.” You admitted, your gaze fixed on a point in the car, avoiding direct eye contact.

Tom’s expression softened, a mixture of understanding and empathy in his eyes. He parked the car in an empty parking lot before reaching out for your hand and placing it in his lap. “Hey, you don’t have to face this alone. And, for the record, I hate how they invade our personal lives as well.”

A smile appeared on your lips, appreciating his supportive words. “It’s just... the questions about us and whether we are dating. I didn’t know how to handle it,” you confessed, vulnerability filling the open air.

He nodded, his thumb gently rubbing against your hand. “I understand; it's okay to feel overwhelmed. But you don’t have to worry about handling it alone. We can get through this together.”

The sincerity in his words reassured you and provided comfort in his presence. “Thank you, Tom. This means a lot more than you realize,” you replied, your voice genuine.

"Anytime, sweetie, we’re a team, on and off-screen.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You couldn’t help but notice a shift in the air—a subtle change in the dynamic between you two. The unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface were now begging to be let out.

Silence soon enveloped the car; the only thing playing was the music set to a low volume. The weight of the implicit emotions hung in the air, yet there was a shared understanding that needed no words.

You debated breaking the silence, but fortunately, Tom spoke up before you could. “You know, I’ve been thinking about it more and more recently... Maybe it’s time we addressed the dating rumors.”

Your eyebrows were raised in surprise. “Agreed, but how do we go about it?"

“Let’s be honest with them,” he paused, thinking of how he should continue. “We were going to have to talk about it one day, so why not tell them the truth now?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and the idea of him actually liking you echoed in your mind. “The truth?”

He nodded, honesty in his eyes. “What if we tell them that the chemistry they see on screen is more than just acting?"

You caught your breath, the unspoken truth finally swimming to the surface. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I like you, not just as a co-star; everything we do together is what I've always dreamed about. Baby, you’re perfect.”

A rush of emotion swept over you, and a genuine smile graced your face. “Tom, I like you too, more than I ever thought I would.”

His smile mirrored yours as he stared into your eyes. “Then let’s tell them the truth. We like each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

As you shared a lingering look, he slowly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Your surroundings seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that moment of equal vulnerability.

Breaking the kiss, Tom grinned, his eyes filled with love and affection. “Ready to face the world?” he paused, waiting for some kind of response, continuing once he saw you nod.

"So, let’s start right now.”

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #oneshot #fluff #tom blyth x you #confession #late night drives

[verstappen-cult]

# THE BOYS MEETING YOUR PARENTS

INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher. logan sargeant.

Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬. you don’t know how much i missed doing these f1 grid headcanons! thanks to the anon who sent the request in the first place. i use a few different prompts for this, if you wanna check them out: one, two and three. <333

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

You’re waiting for your parents at the restaurant, Lando by your side looking like he’s about to meet his death. You notice that his leg is jumping anxiously beneath the table. In another situation you’d make fun of him but not this time, so you grab his hand and squeeze slightly, pulling him out of his head. You reassure him that everything will be okay, that “you’re going to be fine. They will love you just like I love you.” and Lando tries to smile, he really tries but he’s nervous. He’s meeting your parents, the most important people in your life, and he wants to make a good impression. You make small talk, trying to give him a few tips, what he can say to your father or how to compliment your mother’s dress. In the end, he didn’t have any reason to worry. Because after the initial greeting Lando is already in a deep conversation with your father about cars while your mother looks softly between you two. They leave with the promise of having dinner at their house next week. Lando can’t stop ranting about how interesting your father is and “do you think they would like to go to the next race? I can arrange that immediately. I’m sure your dad would love it.”

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

Charles is about to have a panic attack or at least that’s what you think as you watch him pace around the living room. “You don’t understand. Like I need them to love me because you love them, and if they don’t love me I’ll just, I don’t know, kill myself.” And you can’t help but laugh because you’ve never seen him that nervous, not even on your first date he acted like this. He is a complete gentleman when your parents arrive at your house. Your father hasn’t even parked yet but he’s already waiting at the door with the most bright smile you’ve ever seen. Your mother loves him immediately, but your dad makes things a little hard, teasing him and making him so flustered you think Charles will pass out from how embarrassed he is. However, your mother has your back because she teases him back, engaging in some playful banter. Your heart starts hammering in your chest when Charles leans in and whispers “that will be us one day.”

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

You were nervous when, in reality, you shouldn’t have been. Oscar was natural, he was the one reassuring you that everything was going to be fine while you tried very hard to make him turn around and go back home. He had to park somewhere halfway to your parent’s house to calm you. If his kisses had anything to do with you finally relaxing nobody doesn’t need to know that. But he was right, as always, because dinner went smoothly. You have finished eating, your parents are laughing at something Oscar has said and you feel like you couldn’t be more in love. You are wrong because when your mother stands up to clean the table, Oscar is up in a second telling her to “sit down, I’ll take care of that. Anyone want coffee?” and you fall a little more in love. Oscar disappears into the kitchen and you get up to help him when your mother grabs your hand and softly whispers “He’s a keeper.”

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

Max insisted on buying the most grand bouquet of flowers, the most expensive wine and taking the Ferrari once you revealed just how much your dad loves cars and, especially, Ferrari. You couldn’t laugh even though you found it funny and over the top, but no one has ever done something like that for you. It shows how important you are to him. Your parents love him immediately, your mother is more than happy when she sees her favorite flowers while your dad looks like a fish out of water, unable to close his mouth as he admires the Ferrari parked outside their house. Max makes the mistake of asking him if he would like to take a ride and they leave for thirty minutes. He makes conversation with your parents during dinner, they humiliate you a bit and bond over how spoiled you are. When it’s time to go, your mother hugs him so tightly and says “thank you for taking such good care of her.” 

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

You’re coming out of a store when you see your mother across the street and before you can turn around and pretend you didn’t see them, she’s calling your name. Alex is surprised and doesn’t know what to do, choosing to stay a few feet behind because “I’m not ready! I need to mentally prepare myself to meet her and I’m wearing fucking shorts and a shirt, I can’t meet her like this.” but your mother sees him and her face lights up. “Is this the young man you’ve been hiding from us?” and Alex can do nothing more than accept your mother’s hug and the kiss on the cheek. When you laugh he sends you a death glare and you know you’ll be hearing about it all the way home. She invites you to have dinner because “dad misses you and he will be so happy to meet Alex.” and you were gonna decline her offer, really. But Alex beats you and accepts instead, telling her that “we would love to! But come to our house, we will cook for you.” 

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

The first thing your mom says when she opens the door is “have you eaten? I made this delicious tiramisu, come on!” as she grabs Daniel’s arm and drags him to the kitchen, leaving you behind with your bags and the bottle of wine you insisted on buying. You don’t take too long closing the door and following them, but once you enter the kitchen Daniel is already sitting on a stool with a big plate of tiramisu in front of him. He sees you and smiles with his mouth full, and it would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so offended. Your mother washes the dishes and makes small talk with Daniel, asking him random things about himself to get to know him better and he’s more than happy to answer all of them. When ten minutes go by without your own mother acknowledging you, you decide to speak because “you’re not gonna ask if I want a plate too, mother? Your own daughter?” which she takes as a good opportunity to tell a story about your childhood and humiliate you in front of your boyfriend. 

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

You weren’t supposed to find them, that’s what Mick tells you when you ask him “baby, are these… flashcards?” surprised when you start reading them and is all the information you gave him about your family during the week. He is embarrassed and it takes a lot of convincing and kisses to make him look at you. “I want to be prepared, okay? I want to make a good impression and this is my way to achieve that.” And, well, he is right. Because when the day comes, Mick fits so well. He asks your little brother about university and gives him a few tips, he asks your mother about work and your dad about horses, he even sits down with your little sister to play with her dolls. Everyone loves him. If you have to listen to your family tell embarrassing stories about you, you will endure it if it means you’ll keep seeing Mick’s bright smile. 

★ — LOGAN SARGEANT (2)

Logan wants to run. Yes, it was his idea to invite your family to a baseball game but “I still can get out of here and you can tell them that I’m sick. Or you can tell them that you don’t want me to meet them and we can run away to the Maldives or som—” you cup his face and shut him up with a kiss before he can keep talking nonsense. “You need to breathe.” It takes a while but he regulates his breathing eventually and doesn’t feel like passing out anymore. Logan still thinks that is best if he doesn’t attend the game and is actually about to make his escape when your brother yells your name. Before you can join them at the entrance, you hold Logan’s hand and whisper how much you love him. Logan forgets all about his anxiety once you are inside the stadium and he has a beer on his hand. Your dad makes sure to make him feel welcomed, including him in his and your brother's conversation. When you are home that night, getting ready for bed, Logan tells you that “I’m going fishing with your dad tomorrow.” And honestly, what the hell?

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc fluff #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x you #alex albon x reader #mick schumacher x you #daniel ricciardo fluff #logan sargeant x reader #f1 fanfic

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest V

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 7,790 (you love me)

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: 18+ content, mentions of bruised skin, idiots in love, feels, a little crying, a little angst, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (don't do that), multiple orgasms. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part so far and no condolences to the jealous (iykyk) i love and appreciate you guys with my whole heart. also i suck at smut so please pretend to be aroused as you wait for the next part, thank you. please enjoy xx💜💜

~

She wiped her tears away, remembering Bucky’s words as she tried to calm down.

She bit her lip as her chest tightened at the pain she had heard in his voice, deeply regretting her part of the fight.

Did he really think she thought he was without feelings?

She might have seen him as a monster before, but that was in the very beginning when she didn’t know him at all, and she soon came to realize that she was wrong. Very wrong.

Her orc wasn’t a monster by any means. Not even close. If anything, it was the complete opposite. She saw him as a resilient soldier and admired the way he never lost the good things about him at war. To her, Bucky was a warrior; a hero.

Human or not, of course she treasured and cared about his feelings!

Bucky took care of her, brought her gifts without her ever asking, made her feel seen and heard and most of all liked. Loved even. He made her feel like she was some awesome friend worth laughing with and talking to.

She wanted to make sure that she made him feel the same way too. She couldn’t let him continue to believe the words he had said to her.

She opened the door of the cottage and looked outside, but Bucky was nowhere to be found. She sighed, shutting the door again and pressing her back to it as she thought about her next steps.

Life with Bucky was what she wanted, and she wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that truth.

She fetched the cloth she had tossed away before moving back to the kitchen.

She had only known real happiness alongside Bucky and she was going to let him know that. She was going to whip the cream for that cake even if they had to do without berries.

~

She was almost done smoothing the whipped cream over the cake when she heard the door to the cottage open and close.

She quickly rinsed her hands, ready to go out and make things right.

When she stepped out of the kitchen, however, she was met by the most endearing view she could have ever been met with and it rendered her speechless.

Her large snow orc was standing before her with a blush on his cheeks and a tiny fruit basket between his giant arms.

It was full of mixed berries.

She couldn’t hide her happy surprise as she stared at the sight before her, her mouth opening and closing a few times.

“Bucky?” She finally whispered his name, breaking the silence, her voice soft and laced with love.

Damn, that orc could steal hearts.

“I—  uhh—  borrowed the basket from Sarah,” Bucky muttered, pushing the basket forward for her to take as he avoided eye contact.

He really sucked at this and he knew it, but he was trying. He desperately wanted to make everything better. He knew he couldn’t take the yelling or the bruising back, but he badly needed to fix what he had so stupidly ruined, and the berries were his best bet.

She appreciatively took the basket out of his hand, hugging it to her chest.

“I’m sorry if they’re not as good as the ones you picked. It’s— it’s my first time uhm— picking berries,” Bucky admitted lowly, gesturing with his hands as his eyes wandered anywhere but on her, afraid of meeting her eyes and finding them disappointed or fearful still.

It was true. It was his first time doing any of this. Bucky was a rough orc. He did hunting, not foraging.

“They’re perfect,” she replied without even looking at the fruits, the gesture itself enough for her as she realized that under all this beef, her orc had hid a heart of gold and a softness to die for.

Bucky only nodded awkwardly, still unable to meet her eyes. He didn’t know how to act or what to say.

He was a soldier. He used to give orders and expect results, he didn’t do apologies or pluck raspberries as gently as possible in order not to squish them between his huge fingers.

She silently took the basket to the kitchen, a smile covering her face as her heart jumped.

Bucky walked in after her, leaning on the door frame and watching as she emptied the berries in a bowl and washed them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their earlier argument hanging heavy in the air.

“How’s your arm?” Bucky asked softly, swallowing in the fear of having left some serious damage on her.

Her smile faltered for a second when she remembered the way he had so harshly grabbed and held her, “it’s gonna be okay. Just a tiny bruise.” She reassured still, not wanting him to feel bad anymore.

Bucky’s fingers trembled as he ran a rough hand through his unkempt hair, the weight of his actions weighing heavily on his conscience.

“I hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with remorse. “I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. I really am sorry, little human.” Bucky sincerely apologized again.

Before she could reply, he stepped closer, taking hold of her hand before lowering his lips to her forearm.

The feeling of Bucky’s tusks ever so softly digging into her skin as Bucky left tender kisses all over the abused area made her shiver.

“I’m sorry; I’m a fool,” Bucky said into her skin as he pressed another kiss, “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.” He pressed one final kiss before letting her arm go, “I will never doubt you again, sweet thing. Please forgive me.”

He stood there with the bluest puppy eyes, silently begging for her clemency as his hands hugged hers.

“I forgive you, Bucky.” She nodded with a shy smile, her own guilt gnawing at her insides as the fire that had rose on her skin in the wake of Bucky’s lips dissipated.

“It scared me when I came home and didn’t find you. I— I thought you were leaving me again.” He confessed lowly, “I didn’t know what to think.”

“I know. I should’ve at least left a note,” she thought out loud, her head down in regret, “I thought I would be home before you arrived so I didn’t feel the need to write one. I’m sorry, Bucky.” She gave his hand a desperate squeeze, “I really didn’t mean to scare you or make you feel like I was running away.”

“It’s okay.” Bucky smiled softly, regretting how poorly he had reacted as he brought her hand to his lips.

She was amazing. His night’s firefly.

“I don’t think of you as someone who doesn’t have feelings, Bucky,” she blurted out, her voice quivering with sincerity. “The kindness you show me... it's unlike anything I've ever known from humans. It's genuine, and real, and it's the reason I wanna be with you.”

Bucky listened in silence, an appreciative smile breaking on his handsome face.

“I care about you, Bucky, and I respect your feelings more than you know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t.”

“I didn’t want to keep you when you didn’t want to stay, but it still hurt every time you left,” Bucky finally voiced his thoughts, sharing a part of his feelings and fears with her.

“Who—” She stopped to clear her throat, “who said I don’t wanna stay?”

“So you wanna be here for good? With me?” Bucky’s eyes lit up with hope as he intently watched her.

“Well, I made a cake, didn’t I?” She wouldn’t let her eyes meet his as she placed the berries on top of the smooth cake, her heart drumming in her chest.

“Let me hear it, sweet thing,” Bucky begged, unable to believe what he was hearing from her despite everything that has happened.

“I thought I’ve said it before,” she tried to tease, “and I’m wearing your ring, Bucky,” she chuckled shyly, her face hot.

Bucky kept waiting, wordlessly pleading her to tell him the words he so badly needed to hear.

She looked at him and saw passion drawn all over his face and she could only imagine she looked the same.

“I… wanna be here… with you, Bucky, for good,” she said before biting her lip, her own admittance sending a shudder down the back of her hot neck.

The simple sentence hit Bucky like a warm cup of cocoa on a stormy evening as he smiled.

He grabbed her hand and gave the palm of it a long kiss, getting berry residue on his cheek.

Thankfully, she didn’t take her hand away, giggling softly as her orc got his skin stained.

She smiled timidly when he pulled away, wiping his cheek clean with her other thumb.

“I know I haven’t made it easy for you, Bucky, but you’ve got to trust me. I don’t wanna leave you, not now, not ever.”

Bucky nodded, his heart soaring at the reassurance, “I trust you, little human.”

“Let’s eat our cake?” She asked, biting her lip.

Our. It was the first time she has ever used that word.

Bucky nodded with a grateful smile of his own, carefully carrying the cake out to the table outside.

She grabbed plates, forks and a knife and followed him.

Her heart was beating like crazy, yet it was the most relieved it had ever been now that they have made up.

She handed Bucky the knife and he cut through the cake.

She took the chance that he was busy and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, her lips lingering against his warm skin for a fleeting moment, “welcome home”.

Bucky could feel his chest burning up with the love it held for her.

For years, he had believed himself unworthy of love, of kindness, of anything resembling happiness. But in that short second with her lips on his cheek, he felt a twinkle of hope ignite within him, dispersing the darkness that had cloaked his heart for years.

The commotion that happened earlier had made him forget all about his kiss, but she didn’t.

She kissed him and with a smile too.

Bucky was love-sick, her gentle features stirring unparalleled emotions inside of him, softening his rough edges without even trying.

With a hesitant hand, he reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against the smooth skin in a silent promise of devotion. And as she leaned into his touch, cupping his hand with her tiny one, Bucky took an oath to cherish her, to protect her, and to love her with every fiber of his being for as long as he lived.

“Is there anyone around left from your tribe that I can meet?” She asked after Bucky had filled their plates with cake, interested to know more about her husband’s life as she handed him his fork.

She couldn’t help her curiosity anymore. She cared about Bucky and she needed to know why he was out here on his own. Where was his clan? Did he even have one? Do they know about her?

“No, just the two very close human friends,” Bucky sighed his answer before slipping a raspberry in his mouth, his thoughts running to his clan; the clan that had rejected and abandoned him years ago.

Okay, but where were the orcs? Now she was more curious and confused.

“What about your family?”

“You’re my family,” Bucky answered without hesitancy and she felt her heart flood with love as she speechlessly stared at his face.

“Where did you see me?” She wondered aloud, her tone hushed as she ached to know how and when he got to choose her.

“At the orphanage,” he started, a smile already spreading on his face as he recalled the memory, “me and Sam were delivering chairs and a few beds for the new rooms they had built.”

She listened, knowing exactly what he was talking about. She was part of the group that was instructed to clean the new building.

“I had just taken a bed down from the truck when I felt something drop on my head and before I knew it, it was raining. I was wiping the raindrops off my forehead.” Bucky’s fork played around with the berries on his plate before he looked up and into her eyes, “and I let my arm down and there you were, breathtaking as a daydream, laughing with another girl as you both ran inside before the rain could catch you.”

“How did I not see you?” She whispered, eyes welling up at the adoration she could see in his gaze.

“You were too busy being scared of the rain,” Bucky teased, “but I saw you.” Bucky’s thumb stroke drown her cheek, “I saw you and I knew I just had to see you again.”

“So that was when you asked the manager if I could be your wife?” She bit her lip, the thought now flattering to her rather than appalling as it used to be.

“No, that was when I intentionally slammed a chair down on the concrete and broke it to pieces so we could be one chair short and I could come again and hopefully sneak another peek at you.” Bucky laughed, remembering Sam’s reaction as he watched the chair he had so carefully put together get smashed down, “Sam wasn’t so happy about me destroying his work”.

“Oh my gods,” she laughed with him, feeling bad for poor Sam.

“Yeah, he didn’t believe me when I said I dropped it, swore he wasn’t coming with me that next time and everything. It was a whole thing.” Bucky shook his head as his laughter faded into a soft smile.

“Can’t blame him.” She shrugged with a grin.

“He was fine.” Bucky waved his hand in the air, “I honestly only cared that I’d secured myself a chance to come back.” He admitted unapologetically.

“And did you see me when you came back?” She asked, her elbow on the table and her cheek resting on her hand, cake long forgotten.

“Yeah, I had to sneak to the back to see you, but I did. You were even more beautiful that day,” Bucky told her, making her blush under his affectionate gaze, “you had a messy flower crown on top of your head and you were taking laundry down from the clothesline. You were so focused as you tried to pull the clothes down without getting on your tiptoes,” he chuckled, recalling how cute she was as she struggled to reach the peg clips.

“Hey! They hung that clothesline way too high! No one could reach it!” She shook her head.

“Yeah, I’m sure they couldn’t,” Bucky teased, laughing at her defensive reply.

“They couldn’t, I swear! Not just me!”

“I believe you,” Bucky said with a provocative smile.

“You’re annoying.” She pouted, digging her fork in her cake slice.

“Nah, you’re just too little, little human.” Bucky teased again and she couldn’t help her smile.

It was all making sense now as she admired his gorgeous grin: the yearning for Bucky’s touch when he wasn’t there, the longing for his presence that had replaced her previous fear or repulsion, and the way she so desperately looked forward to the weekends so they could hold hands as they walked and talked could only mean one thing.

She was in love. She was in love with Bucky and she didn’t want to run from that feeling.

“I— I think I’m in love with you,” she admitted in a tiny whisper.

A smile lit Bucky’s face up before he gave her forehead a long kiss, trying to convey his adoration for her as he held her close to him, “I know I’m in love with you, little human.” He sighed in her hair.

He couldn’t believe she said it and he couldn’t believe she said it first. He couldn’t believe how far they have come and how beautiful life could be.

But he knew now and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Bucky finally had someone who loved him and cared about him; someone he could trust and surrender his heart to.

She stood on her tiptoes, making him chuckle as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him so close that he could feel her heartbeat.

“They renounced me a long time ago,” Bucky whispered in her hair, feeling brave enough to open up to her about his past.

Her heart sank at the gut-wrenching piece of information.

“What?” She pulled away in shock, “why?”

Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around the idea of a clan having Bucky and willingly letting him go.

“My mother was a human; wanted to name me James, but she died during my birth, heart condition,” he started, closing his eyes to stop his tears from forming, “they eventually did name me James, but I think I never liked it. My grandma gave me the name Bucky, from my middle name ‘Buchanan’. She was the one who raised me because me and my father weren’t close. He could never forgive me for taking my mother away from him, I guess.” Bucky shrugged, swallowing his emotions.

She listened silently, her own tears brimming. What kind of father does that? Bucky had already lost his mother and instead of being there for him, his father made him lose him too?!

“Before I knew it, I’m a teenager and my father had passed away and my grandma before him… I had no one left and my cousins weren’t about to let the half-orc with the human mother become chief.” Bucky sighed as he recalled the events of his youth.

She stayed in his arms, hands on his chest as she listened closely, her heart breaking at the expression on her orc’s face.

“And when I started ‘working with the humans’, they found the perfect reason to kick me out of the clan for good.” He finished with a sad smile, shaking his head as if to shake the memories away.

“That was when you started fighting for the kingdom?” She asked, softly running the back of her fingers down Bucky’s cheek as a tear rolled down her own.

“Had nowhere else to go.” Bucky shrugged with a teary smile, trying to pull himself together.

“But that was where you met Sam, right?” She reminded with a tender smile, her thumb tracing his stubbly chin.

Bucky nodded with a chuckle, “yeah, used to drive me crazy at first, but he was a good soldier; an even better friend.”

“And then you opened your shop.” She tilted her head, her fingers catching the tips of Bucky’s soft hair by his shoulder.

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, reminiscing at how things have turned out.

“And you started making beautiful furniture that you needed to deliver to the orphanage, where you saw me.” She grinned fondly, a fingertip tracing the orc’s nose.

“Yes.” Bucky sighed, his love pouring out of his dewy eyes as he enjoyed the light touches.

“And now I’m here with you, in our home,” she brought both palms to Bucky’s cheeks, “and I will never leave you, Bucky,” she told him seriously before getting on her tiptoes to hug him again, “I’m your family and you’re mine.” She whispered into his neck.

“I love you,” Bucky whispered into her shoulder, his arm squeezing her to him as if he wanted to meld himself to her.

“Copycat,” she joked, instantly feeling her orcs chest vibrate with a chuckle, “I love you too, Bucky.”

With her in his arms, hers wrapped around him as tight as she could, Bucky could then understand the meaning of safety, of love and family.

And she finally came to realize that she and Bucky weren’t all that different after all. They had both been abandoned by the ones who were supposed to have their backs before and more than anyone. But they have got each other now. She wasn’t going to let Bucky go and she trusted him not to let her go either.

~

As she leaned in to give Bucky his goodnight kiss that night, a different thought occupied her mind.

Sitting up against the pillows, she crossed her legs, her heart pounding with anticipation as Bucky looked at her with a quizzical tilt of his head.

She slowly got closer to his face, locking eyes with him to gain more courage, but it only made her more nervous.

She took a deep breath and when she pressed her lips, she pressed them to her orc’s mouth instead of his cheek, ever so tentatively getting a much needed taste of his full lips. They were so soft, so perfect.

She had no idea if she was doing this right, but she didn’t care.

Bucky's eyes widened in disbelief, wondering if he was dreaming.

She pulled away after a short second, scared that she might have crossed a line, “I’m sorry. Do orcs not do that—”

Before she could apologize or question her actions further, Bucky silenced her with a kiss of his own, swiftly bringing her down to lay on her back as he hovered over her, his kisses eager and desperate as he tried his best to watch his tusks.

“I don’t care what orcs do. We’re doing it,” he mumbled against her sweet lips.

Bucky allowed her one loud laugh before devouring her lips again, stealing her heart and breath with another tender, yet deep kiss.

In that very moment, time seemed to stand still for Bucky. All he could feel was the warmth of her cheek against his palm, all he could taste was the sweetness of her lips mingled with the faint flavor of berries, and he never wanted it to end.

As she allowed his tongue to gently explore her mouth, a promise of eternity passed between them in a moan, sealing their bond with a promise of a lifetime of love and devotion.

She has never had a real friendship. Rarely had anything to say. She would rather stay silent if she thought she didn’t have anything to contribute to the conversation. She was always afraid that others might find her boring, and was even more afraid that that may be her truth. So she always hid. She hid from others, from herself and her feelings. She hid from problems and fights. She hid from anything that could get her hurt.

But with Bucky it was different.

She didn’t have to hide anymore, didn’t have to be scared because in Bucky she had everything. She had a true friend, a loyal lover and a great husband.

And as she let herself drown in the feeling of his lips, she couldn’t be more grateful for the gods above for drawing her fate exactly how it was.

It felt so good to belong to Bucky and she could all but want more.

She let her instincts run wild, her body hot with need as she hesitantly slipped her hands under Bucky’s sweater, eager to feel his scarred skin under her fingers.

Bucky pulled away from her lips to look her in the eyes, his breath stuttering at her tender touch, “what are you doing, sweet thing?”

“I’m sorry. Was that too far?” She hurriedly tried to pull her hands out of his clothes, but Bucky was faster as he sat back and held his hands on top of hers, keeping them inside his sweater, right on his ribs.

“I’m your husband,” Bucky reminded with a sweet smile.

“I know— I just— I’ve never—” She struggled with her words as heat rose to her face, “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable… but I think I wanna do this.” She confessed shyly, her indexes caressing up and down his abdomen.

“This this?” Bucky tilted his head suggestively, already feeling his cock jump at the thought alone.

“This this.” She smiled, biting her lip shyly as she gave a nod.

“Little human, you better not be playing right now.” Bucky warned, his eyes growing the slightest bit darker.

“I’m not—”

“Because if I start, I won’t be able to stop myself, sweet thing.”

“Then don’t.”

Her newfound courage took over as she brought Bucky back to her with her hands tangled in his pullover.

Bucky kissed her with fervor, savoring the angelic sounds she was making as his tongue tasted hers.

He carefully ran a large hand up her hip, exploring as his lips trailed down her cheek and to her neck.

He could feel her pulse again and was about to stop, déjà vu from their wedding night attacking him, but then she said his name in the softest, sexiest and neediest tone as she squirmed underneath him, his covered cock fitting just right between her legs.

Bucky could all but put his lips back on her, his tusks grazing the sensitive skin as he nibbled on it.

“Can I see you?” He breathed, his eyes on hers as his fingers found way under the skirt of her dress.

She nodded, her face and neck flushed as she sat up and gave the orc her back.

Bucky wasted no time working the zipper down, revealing the back of her bralette to his hungry eyes.

She twisted herself back, seeking Bucky’s blue orbs for reassurance as she pushed her dress down her shoulders. Her heart pounded in her chest when she saw Bucky literally lick his lips at the sight of her.

It felt like it was the first time Bucky was seeing her naked to both of them.

He saw her hesitate with pushing the dress down further and so with a smile, Bucky pulled his own pullover up and off his head, “I got you.” He promised.

She bit her lower lip, pushing the dress down her thighs.

Bucky pulled the piece of clothing all the way down, throwing it behind his back with his discarded sweater. He kept his calloused palms on her shins, caressing the smooth skin while he watched her hands go behind her back to unhook her bralette.

She let it fall from her body, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths as she watched Bucky’s gaze switch from admiration to sheer desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, gently bringing her on her back, taking the bralette all the way down her arms as he pressed his mouth to hers again.

Bucky’s lips traced down the hot skin of her throat in open-mouthed kisses, moving to her collarbones, “can I touch you, sweet thing?”

“Yes.” She nodded and goosebumps instantly rose on her skin as Bucky’s palms cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing her hardening nipples.

“Bucky,” she moaned, her back involuntarily curving as she pushed herself further into her orc’s touch.

“Oh, you sensitive on here, little human?” Bucky asked, biting back his smirk as his calloused flesh thumb rubbed over her nipple again, “’s my touch making your little nipples hard?”

“Bucky,” she whined at the dirty talk, her hands coming up to cover her hot face in embarrassment.

“Hey.” Bucky gently took her hands away from her face, “don’t hide from me, sweet thing. I love that your body is reacting to me.”

Before she could whine again, her husband was bringing her right hand down and between his legs, pressing her open palm to his hard cock, “this is my body reacting to you, my love.”

She gasped, the feeling foreign to her as she felt how big and hard Bucky was.

“This is what you do to me, little human.” Bucky wrapped her smaller hand around his clothed cock, giving himself a squeeze, making wetness pool in her panties at the sound that left him afterwards.

Knowing that she wasn’t the only one whose body was on fire, made her the tiniest bit more confident and she found herself giving Bucky’s cock another squeeze, making his head drop to her shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, you tryna kill me, sweet thing?” Bucky breathed a chuckle on her neck.

“Did— did I hurt you?” She asked insecurely, wanting to remove her hand and bury herself under the bed.

“Gods, you’re an angel.” Bucky shook his head and she didn’t understand until he said, “you have no idea how much your touch drives me mad, do you?”

She shook her head innocently and Bucky only smiled, moving his mouth to her chest, his tusks softly grazing everywhere his lips went.

“It’s something like this.”

“Ohhhh, Bucky!” She arched her back again as her orc wrapped one of her nipples in his lips, softly suckling at the tender nub, making her hand give a tighter pump to his cock.

She really was sensitive there.

Bucky groaned, moving to her other nipple, the vibration driving her crazy, making her squirm harder as her hand massaged around his cock, sliding up his back to unconsciously wrap in his long hair as she pushed her breast into his mouth.

She could feel herself clenching like crazy down there, her whole body aflame with lust from all the new sensations Bucky was introducing her to.

The way the tip of his tongue flicked against her nipples made her crave more.

Bucky’s kisses trailed down her ribs to her abdomen, worshipping every inch until they settled on top of her pubic bone, dark blue eyes looking up at her for permission to go further.

She nodded, aching for her orc’s touch to provide any kind of relief.

A little nervous about not finding her wet once again, Bucky moved closer to her center.

Bucky let his lips kiss her on top of her underwear first, inhaling the saturated fabric as he pressed a long kiss to her clothed core. He swallowed hard, her scent filling his nostrils and making him dizzy with desire.

She smelled so good.

“Bucky, please,” she pleaded before she could stop herself, desperate for him to do anything to help the throbbing between her legs.

“I got you, sweet thing,” Bucky told her again, quickly pushing the tiny underwear down her legs and getting himself comfortable between her legs.

He took a second to look at her, all naked and all his, writhing from and for his touch and his touch alone.

“Wh— what are you gonna do?” She asked uncertainly, not really getting why Bucky was bringing himself lower between her open thighs, eye to eye with her pussy, the position making her cheeks burn up.

“I’m gonna get a taste, little human. Would you let me? Can I get a taste of you, sweet thing?” Bucky asked as he pressed loving kisses to the delicate flesh of her inner thigh.

“You’re… gonna put your mouth there?” She whispered her question shyly, the thought making her want to close her legs and hide.

Bucky just smiled lovingly at her innocence; his untouched, pure little human, “if you let me.”

“Is it gonna feel good?” She asked curiously.

Bucky nodded, relieved she wasn’t scared of his tusks coming close to where she was the most sensitive, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Y—yes. Okay.” She nodded, swallowing her nervousness as she laid her head back.

Bucky knew what he was doing and she trusted him to take care of her.

Her permission was all Bucky needed to put his mouth on her, pressing a longing kiss to her lower lips, glad to find her soaking wet, making her gasp above him. The feeling of his blunt tusks framing her pussy set her heart racing.

He then locked eyes with her as he let his tongue out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe up from her dripping hole to her pulsing clit before wrapping his full lips around it and she couldn’t help the tiny squeal that escaped her as her head fell back on the pillow, her hips pushing down against him

Bucky smirked on her heat before moaning himself. She tasted so good, better than anything he has ever put his mouth on.

He had fucked humans before and he knew exactly what to do, but she was different. Every breath she released, every moan, was making Bucky wild with desire. He has never cared about making someone feel good as he did in that moment with her thighs around his head.

Her delicate hands flew to her orc’s hair and she tugged hard, losing herself in the feeling of Bucky’s mouth on her pussy as she arched her back and pushed herself closer to his lips. Her orc’s touch was reducing her to a moaning, babbling mess in mere seconds.

Bucky decided to test the waters a little, slipping his tongue inside her hole a few times, tasting her sweetness from the source before bringing his flesh finger between her legs. He gently prodded the tip of his thick finger at her entrance, feeling her tense above him with a gasp.

“It’s okay, sweet thing, I got you. Just relax for me.” He reassured and she tried her best to relax her muscles, allowing Bucky to ease the tip of his finger insider of her.

Fuck, she was so tight; the tightest he has ever felt and it made him rut into the mattress when he thought about how tight she was going to feel around his cock.

Her mouth hung open as Bucky worked the thick digit into her pussy knuckle by knuckle, his lips sucking on her clit.

“I gotta open you up for my cock, little human.” Bucky couldn’t help but tease her, smirking when she whined, getting wetter on his finger.

Bucky started moving his finger in and out of her, his movements slow and deep as he tried to explore as much of her as his finger would go.

Her body was feverish with arousal and her mind was drunk on the feeling of being filled for the first time in her life as sighs and whimpers slipped from her lips without her permission.

It was just one finger pushing in and out of her cunt and she was feeling full already, clenching hard with her juices drenching her thighs and the sheets. She clenched harder around Bucky’s thick finger at the thought of how big his cock would feel and how full it would make her feel, the way he was suckling on her clit making a knot tighten in her lower stomach.

She has never felt anything like this before and was starting to panic at the sensation spreading from her pussy to the rest of her.

“Bucky, I— I feel weird,” she whined, yet ground harder on her orc’s thick finger.

“Are you in pain, little human?” Bucky asked worriedly, taking his touch and mouth away from her at once.

“No, no, no, why would you stop?” She whined louder, her glossy eyes opening and pleading him to give her her pleasure back.

“Oh.” Bucky smirked when he looked from her eyes to her pussy and saw her clamp around nothing, “oh, sweet thing, you were gonna cum?” He asked lowly, his index rubbing up and down her sopping hole without going in.

“I— I don’t know.” She writhed, her hips pushing down as she tried to take Bucky’s finger back inside her, “Bucky, please.” She begged despite not really knowing what she was begging for.

But Bucky knew. He knew and he was going to give it to her.

“I got you,” Bucky said as he pushed his finger back into her pussy with ease, “you think you can take another one, little human?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her answer breathy and desperate as she automatically opened her thighs wider.

“Gods, you’re perfect. So good for me, sweet thing.” Bucky took his index out before coupling it with his middle and pushing both fingers into her, stretching her once more.

She whimpered at the careful intrusion, her hand bringing Bucky’s face to her pulsing clit, making him smirk proudly at how needy she was being for him.

If she thought she felt full before, this made her realize she was wrong.

Bucky’s fingers were so thick, so skilled as they massaged and curled against her upper walls, making her squeal when they nudged a specific spot deep inside her.

“Oh, there you go,” Bucky groaned into her clit, knowing exactly what he was doing to her as he kept curling his fingers inside of her, harshly stimulating the spot that was making her thrash.

He could feel her walls contracting harder around his fingers and he wanted to watch as he brought her to her first orgasm ever.

Keeping his eyes on her blissed out face, Bucky replaced his mouth with the heel of his left hand, circling her clit tightly with his cooler palm.

She wailed at the new stimulation, the pressure from Bucky’s hand strong enough to rub both her clit and her lower abdomen.

Her loud whimpers were making Bucky’s cock leak in his pants as her fingers dug into his shoulders.

“I got you, sweet thing. Give it to me, my love. Shake on your orc’s fingers.”

Bucky’s words did it for her.

She felt the knot in her tummy tighten once more and before she could tell him about it this time, her toes were curling and her body was trembling as her pussy clenched and pulsated around the orc’s beefy digits.

Bucky watched with an open mouth, his lips shimmering with the remnants of her arousal as he almost finished in his pants like a teenager at the mere sight of her losing it on his fingers, “there you go, my love. Good job, sweet thing.”

He slowed down the curling of his fingers but kept his palm circling her clit, wanting to keep her convulsing for as long as he could before she gently tried pushing his touch off.

“Sensitive,” she panted and Bucky decided to have mercy on her.

She laid down on the bed, her tired body limp despite the ongoing throbbing of her pussy, trying to catch her breath.

A smile automatically formed on her lips as she felt Bucky climb up the bed again, mapping his way up her body in wet kisses.

“Hi,” she whispered, opening her eyes when she felt him kissing the corner of her lips.

“Hi.” Bucky smiled, more than satisfied with himself at the state he had managed to bring her to as he kissed her lips, making her taste herself on his tongue, “did you like that, sweet thing?”

She nodded coyly, “can I… make you feel like that too? With my mouth?” Her face was flushed, heat spreading on her skin as if she hadn’t just come on Bucky’s fingers.

The orc could barely hold his orgasm back at the innocence in her voice as she asked if she could suck his cock in the purest way possible. He wasn’t about to cum untouched during his first time with his human. Get it together dammit.

“Later, sweet thing. Right now, I need to be inside your pussy or I think I might die.”

“Bucky,” she whined shyly, covering her face with her hands.

He laughed at her bashfulness before removing the rest of his clothes, “look at me, little human.” Bucky urged gently, his touch soft as his thumb stroked her lower belly.

She removed her hands, eyes instantly landing on his huge cock as it stood proudly, leaking pearls of pre-cum down his length.

“Are you ready, little human?” Bucky asked, wanting to make sure she wanted this.

She remained wordless for a second, taking in Bucky’s cock with an open mouth, wondering if it was going to fit.

“You can say no, sweet thing. We don’t have to do it tonigh—”

“Yes,” she interrupted with a nod, “make me yours, Bucky.”

Bucky bit his lip, stifling a groan, trying to stop himself from sliding home and pounding her into the mattress.

“I thought you were already mine, little human.” He growled lowly, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down her soaking cunt, tapping her clit teasingly just to see her shiver.

“I am. But I wanna be yours like this too.” She mumbled, her eyes mesmerized as she watched Bucky lube his cock up in her wetness, “wanna be yours in every way possible.”

“Can’t say no to that,” Bucky growled before carefully popping the tip of his fat cock inside her aching pussy.

Her breaths were coming out in short pants, cunt already clenching around him and he almost doubled over, his knees weak as pleasure engulfed his senses, “fuck, sweet thing, you’re so tight. Pussy’s tryna kill me.” He moaned, unintentionally making her clench down harder.

She looked like she had already been fucked stupid when Bucky proceeded to push half of his fat cock inside her, letting out tiny mewls and whines as she felt every ridge and vein on her orc’s cock, holding onto his arms for dear life.

“Oh, you feel so good, my love. So wet for me,” Bucky sighed as he kept fucking her with half of his cock, wanting her to get used to the stretch before he could give her all of him, “so tight”.

“Please, Bucky,” she moaned, her heart and pussy simultaneously fluttering at Bucky calling her his love yet again, “I can take it.” She promised, opening her thighs as far as they would go for him.

Bucky could all but snarl hungrily as he leaned forward, burying his face in her soft neck before gradually pushing the rest of his cock inside her tight throbbing cunt inch by inch until he had bottomed out.

He took a second to calm himself down, not wanting to burst so fast. Then he was pulling out just enough for his bulbous tip alone to remain inside of her before sliding back into her cunt, gasping into her neck at the sensation of being totally wrapped up in her snug warmth.

She couldn’t help but cry out at the pleasure as he orc fucked her deeply, reaching places inside of her she never knew existed.

She thought it would take longer for her body to get used to Bucky’s girth, but it was like she was made for him, her pussy effortlessly accepting him every time he pressed back home.

The tip of Bucky’s cock easily found her special spot, ramming into it over and over every time he drove himself back into her heat.

“Oh, Bucky!” She squealed, her back already bowing once more as her vision got blurrier and Bucky knew he wasn’t going to last much longer when her nails dug into his skin again.

His breath was labored when he raised his head, wanting a taste of her lips as his thrusts became faster, more desperate. He swallowed her loud moans, leaving the only sound in the empty cottage to be the sound of skin slapping against skin as he fucked her faster.

“Bucky, it’s gonna happen again,” she whined and Bucky brought his hand down to her clit at once, wanting to see and feel her crumble on his cock.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my fat cock, little human?”

She nodded frantically, her legs wrapping around Bucky’s waist.

“Cum for me, sweet thing. Let me feel your tight little pussy cum on my cock.”

Bucky’s dirty whispers in her ear, his deep thrusts and his frantic rubbing on her sensitive clit were making her lose control; making her lightheaded with desire as she let herself go again, full body tensing before shaking in her orc’s arms.

Bucky could no longer hold back, his guttural growl making her clench hard. He gave a few more thrusts before pushing his cock as deep as it would go inside her quivering pussy, keeping his assault on her clit going to keep her clenching around him. He felt his cock twitch as he emptied his balls inside her. His cock wouldn’t stop throbbing as he filled his little human up with his hot cum.

Before any of them could comprehend it, she was cumming again just at the feeling of Bucky cumming inside of her, making him groan as her walls squeezed his cock, milking him for all that he was worth.

He let himself collapse on top of her for just a minute before feeling the need to pull out because she wouldn’t stop pulsating and shuddering around his sensitive cock.

Bucky didn’t think he had ever cum so hard in his entire life.

A smile spread on his lips as he flipped on his side, watching her chest rise and fall with her slowing breaths.

He trailed a finger up her still slightly trembling thigh, making her open her tired eyes to look at him.

She gave him a sweet smile, biting her lip as she squirmed, timidly closing her thighs and Bucky could see the exact moment she realized that his cum was leaking out of her abused hole, smirking at how bashful she got straightaway.

“Are you okay, little human?” Bucky asked, his finger tracing up her abdomen, around the curve of her breast and up under her chin, keeping her gaze on his.

She nodded, her expression cock-drunk despite the shyness, “when— when can we do that again?”

Her question pulled an astonished laugh out of Bucky as he wrapped a hair strand around his finger, “any time you want, my love.” He brought her forehead to his lips, kissing her adoringly.

Gods, he was so in love that his heart felt like it would burst.

She smiled bigger, satisfied with the answer as she moved closer, settling on her orc’s broad chest and snuggling close to his warmth, “I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, sweet thing.” Bucky gave her lips a deep kiss.

“So orcs do do that.” She mumbled with a sleepy smile against his lips, making him laugh into her mouth.

She giggled a little before pushing her nose further into Bucky’s neck, gracefully falling asleep to his scent.

As she laid in his arms, vulnerable and exposed, Bucky felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him as he pulled the heavy blanket up her naked form, holding her closer to him.

He pressed a gentle kiss to her hairline, vowing to always be there for her. She was his, and he was hers, destined together through a love that defied all odds.

And as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, Bucky knew that he had found his home, his safe haven, in the embrace of this one girl who had so easily stolen his heart.

Part VI

~

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[oneofthetorturedpoets]

Keep on pretending pretty girl.

based on pretty girls by Renee Rapp.

Regina George x Reader

You wouldn't say that you were popular but you were definitely well known, mainly for the fact that you were openly gay and stood up for yourself if anyone had something to say.

You knew how Regina George ran the school, but you never had to interact with her, fortunately for you. Though because of your clashing personalities everyone anticipated a fight between you too, knowing you wouldn't back down, even from the top plastic.

-

You held your lunch tray out in front of you as you were walking towards your table, as you were walking a jock slapped your food out of your hands.

"What's up, lesbo?" He says, you stand still, shocked at the situation. No one has ever tried to be violent with you, it was mainly just name calling.

You look up towards the guy, who you found to be Shane Omen "What the fuck dude?"

He chuckles, mockingly. "Aw, I'm sorry, were you going to eat that?"

You shake your head, deciding to just ignore him and leave. As you went to do that, he pushed you, causing you to stumble. You grab the table to save yourself.

"Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you, dyke." You whip around, before he could even react to you facing him now, you swing your fist, hooking him right in the jaw. His head flew to the side, his hand immediately going up to try and soothe his mouth.

All the way across the gym, Regina George is watching the interaction, heat shooting straight through her body as she watches you sock her ex boyfriend in the face-

Wait did she think that was hot? No, she's not gay.

-

After the so called fight in the gym, your day was fine. You tried to ignore the shooting pain in your knuckles as you fixed your hair in the mirror. You see the door open and Regina walks through. She smirks at you.

She stands next to you, starting to adjust her her lipstick. "What's up, loser?"

You look over at her. "Uh, nothing much. what about you?" The sentence coming off more awkward than you wanted.

"I'm having a party this weekend, I want you there." Her tone makes your heart skip a beat.

"Just tell me when and where, I'll be there."

-

The weekend came sooner than you thought, leaving you rummaging through your closet. You finally find an outfit that is still your style but you're sure Regina would approve.

You walk through Regina's front door, the lights are dimmed and music is blaring. You weave through the people who were either drinking, dancing or eating each other's faces.

You find the drink table, grabbing a drink for yourself. You felt a hand on your arm, looking over to see Regina. "You came."

"Well you did invite me." You say, jokingly.

She snickers. "I wasn't sure you would show, this doesn't seem like your thing."

You shake your head. "It's not, but I figured I should try it before I have real life responsibilities."

"Well, I hope my party lives up to all of your expectations." As soon as she says that, she's wondering back into the crowd of people.

-

You find yourself sitting in a corner, the party really wasn't your thing. None of your friends were invited, so there was no one you could talk to, except for the occasional Regina.

She was sweeter than you thought she would be. Maybe it's because you haven't done anything wrong, but then again she snaps at people for just looking at her.

Speaking of her, she walks over to you, a sway in her walk. "Hey, loser."

"Hey, Regina" She slides into the spot next to you.

The smell of alcohol and expensive perfume invading your nose. You feel her turn to face you, you follow the action. "So, you're gay, aren't you?"

Ohh so this is the part where Regina finds something to tease you over and throws you out of the party? "Yeah, I like girls."

"That's cool." She says, the tension builds. "Is there any girl you have your eye on?" Her tone sounds almost like she wanting a specific answer.

"Not really, I don't talk to many people" She nods along with your statement.

She plays with her fingers. "You know... if I were gay, you would probably be my type." She inches close towards you.

You've heard that before, so many times. All of the straight girls who wanted to experiment. Why was this time different? Why did butterflies swarm your stomach? Why were you leaning in?

Before you knew it, your lips collide. A spark that makes your skin irrupt into a blush. Her hands get lost in your hair, trying to pull you closer. Your hand squeezes her thigh. You pull away, finally coming to your senses.

"What about Aaron?" Your hands remain in the same spot.

"Don't worry, he won't mind." You try to leave the situation, do the right thing and leave, but when she staring at you with her dilated pupils and kiss-swollen lips. you pull her in for another kiss, all coherent thoughts fly out of your mind, except for one that kept circling.

How can Regina be so mean if her lips are this sweet?

"Regina- oh my god" Gretchen screams.

You go to pull away but Regina holds you in place for another second, savoring the moment. "What Gretchen?" Regina was more annoyed than you thought. was she really that into the kiss?

"Aaron was looking for you, but I see that you're... busy" Gretchen looked you up and down.

Regina could tell Gretchen was judging you. "Yeah, I am actually. Tell him I left." Before Gretchen could even turn around, Regina pulls you in for a deep kiss. The action causing you to melt into her.

-

"Everyone is gone, Regina." You mutter against her lips, she slowly pulls away.

She sighs. "God, I can't get enough of you." Her sentence caused you to blush. "You know, we barely get to talk but you've always been my favorite. I think it's because you're not scared of me? I don't know but I've been watching you and I think you're cool." She plays with your hand, seeming nervous.

You smile at her. "I must be cool if I could do this." You pull her in for another kiss, she moans. You pull away, sooner than Regina wanted. she tries to follow you but eventually you break apart.

"I absolutely love what we got goin' on here but I think I should go home." She rolls her eyes, glancing over to the clock on her wall, it reads '3:00 AM'. She realizes how long you two have been there.

"Oh shit, you're right" Regina gets up, adjusting her outfit. “This was fun, baby” She pecks your lips one last time before leaving the room.

-

As you walk into the school, you’re nervous to see Regina. You’re not sure why, she said she had fun last night.

You see her passing by. "Hey Regina!" She ignores you, pushing right pass you.

What the fuck?

You brush it off, deciding to continue on with your day. You walk into your first period, the only open seat was next to Regina. You walk over there, she turns away from you as much as she can. Visibly avoiding you.

Half way through the period, you try and talk to her. "Regina, if you're mad-"

She cuts you off immediately. "Why are you talking to me? We never talked before. What changed?"

You scoff. "You know exactly what changed, but if we're going to play that game, let's do it."

Regina looks at you, slightly shocked.

-

The next time you see regina that day is in fifth period, right before lunch. She's sitting in the seat you always sit at.

"You're in my seat." You stare down at her.

She smirks. "It doesn't have your name on it."

"It actually does, I carved it in to the desk when I was bored. So get out." She looks down, seeing your name faintly carved into the plastic.

You tap your foot, getting impatient. "That doesn't make it yours. I've decided I want to sit here today."

You shake your head. "I preferred it when you didn't talk to me." You turn around, storming off to a different desk.

-

The period finally ended, after what felt like forever. You packed your notebook in your backpack, quickly leaving the class, as you were walking down the hall, a hand pulled you into the janitors closet.

"What the hell-" You were interrupted by lips crashing into yours. You quickly pull away, relieved to see Regina, but also extremely confused. "Regina-" She cut you off again. Kissing you passionately, not letting you think about anything else except for her. You kiss her back, her taste too intoxicating to not. When air became a problem, she pulled away.

"God, I hate you" She whispers against your lips.

Your brows crinkle in confusion. "Why?"

She kisses you lightly. "I think you've brought out the part of me I've been trying to keep away all these years."

"Maybe instead of hating me, you should be thanking me." She smirks.

"I think I'm showing you enough gratitude." Your lips meet again, passion overflowing.

#fanfic #regina george x reader #regina george #mean girls #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #regina george x you #mean girls the musical #mean girls 2024 #regina george is a lesbian #wlw fiction #regina george icons

[astrophileblogs07]

Astro Observations pt.21

Back with some very random Astro observations 😁

⚫ Saturn aspecting the 7th house actually can dislike 9 to 5 jobs or corporate office jobs. They are better with freelancing. Its coz they can't take orders. Sorry not sorry. 💀(Ig that's a Saturn 7H thing 😆)

⚫ An interesting thing I observed: Among two siblings, the elder one has Leo rising which means Scorpio 4H and the younger one has Scorpio moon. And their Mom is a Scorpio moon too. She's a nice lady though but is such a control freak. (I know I am one too, but like when I met her the second time that "controlling" vibe just hit me like a big yellow school bus 🚌😭😭). That was so funny lol😂. -All the more her birthdate is a single digit 1.(these people are the alpha type, always lead and never follow and hence are dominating, one to have the last say) which is cherry on top. -She is fiercely protective of her kids. Can't emphasize enough on "fierce" part. Very strict. Rules are to be followed very religiously. {She can't stand any one of them doing anything without her knowledge. She even monitors whom they interact with what they do on their mobiles etc.(from what I suspect)} (obv Scorpio moon mom traits) (sometimes Leo moon moms too){nothing unhealthy here, just Mom's way of showing they care 😂}

⚫Saturn and Workout: -Workout 🏋️‍♀️requires CONSISTENCY. Saturn LOVES consistency. -In fact the best remedy for Saturn is sweating. JUST SWEAT by hard work. No matter what it maybe: workout, walking, jobs, cardio, sports etc. 🤸‍♀️🚴‍♀️🏋️‍♀️

⚫ Whilst on the topic of Saturn, people who follow a time table for literally everything the planet doesn't harm them much during its Dasha (even if its your worst one). I mean obviously you played by the rules 🤷‍♀️

⚫ Magha is the only nakshatra for which you don't need in depth compatibility match. They get along with everyone.

⚫Scorpio Venuses/8H Venuses are paranoid. They notice and suspect everything (sometimes things which are not there/imaginary). (For eg, me, who thinks that someone is peeping thru my curtains even when nobody is there and all my curtains cover my windows properly. 🤣).

⚫Also as a basic Scorpio Venus behavior: while writing chats/texting, I always think- "what if someone else reads it?"..so I just don't give much details in texts. (Gosh, sometimes I think somethings wrong with me 😭😭)

⚫The proven way to hurt a Leo moon: compare them with any other person and tell them that the person is wayy better in a certain thing esp if it's a triat that the Leo is proud of. 🤣 (P.S don't do that, its mean and the Leo will hunt you, which you don't want 😀.)

⚫Why do Aries moon men have a bunch of good friends for life and Aries moon women struggle with having at least one good genuine female friend for life? (I'm jealous)

⚫ Maybe its becoz they get along more with guys than gals so the girls are jealous of them...so hence no good female friends. 😢🤡 Aries moons are the best-est people for friendships you'll ever get.

⚫ People born on a Saturday look melancholic.

⚫ You can NEVER mislead a Leo rising. They study litreally everything: what you say what you do, and why you do so. Similar to Scorpios

⚫If you see a person having graceful and "royal" way of walking or behaving, they're are sure shot to have a Magha Ascendant.

⚫Connecting the dots here: as I said in one of my previous posts that Maghas get framed even when they have done nothing, what I interpreted is that Maghas are actually the definition of royalty. They literally have that ✨grace✨, that kinda magnanimous personality and similar struggles to a monarch. Totally King/Queen typa energy here. So with that, the usual consequences in a Kingdom is conspiracy against the king, which the Maghas face. (Enough with Maghas ig, started observing them recently so..✌🏻💀)

That's it for today, until next time! (like,comment and reblog loveliesss❤❤😘)

#astro observations #astro notes #astroblr #astrology #astrology community #astrology tumblr #astrology observations #astrology notes #natal chart #astro community

[percyluvr]

hi! i loved u recent pjo angst fic, n maybe (if ur willing to write pt2!) (a bit of a back story (for the prompt) before i rq, reader & percy have always met up like every 2 weeks in a spot, n he usually forgets so reader stops coming.) reader gradually gets over him. and one evening percy & annabeth have like... an argument (on the today he and reader used to hang out on) so he goes there expecting to find her there but instead it's her n another character? (probably grover since he's also percy's best-friend, it can be another character if you wish!) n he gets kind of jealous cs their getting along more n like giggling teasing stuff and percy gets kind of jealous? (it can still be angst or fluff if you prefer.) tyty

percy jackson x reader, jason grace x reader summary: when percy's relationship ends, he goes to you hoping to get a second chance to be with you, but finds you happy and in love with someone else wc: 1714 pt 1

When Percy, whom you considered to be the love of your life, got with Annabeth, you thought your heart had shattered beyond repair. Watching them be happy, while you were completely alone, ignored by the one person that you thought understood you, had completely broken you. You found yourself at a new low, thinking of how they were probably hanging out and kissing, while you were sat at the place you and percy used to hang out, alone for the nth time. You couldn't blame Percy for forgetting, or purposefully ignoring your planned hangouts together when he had her, his dream girl. 

Eventually, you realized that your and his friendship was most likely beyond repair, and you stopped coming to the spot, I mean, it wasn't like he would notice, right? But you were wrong, he did notice. He didn't start going again, but he did realize when you were with the rest of the campers at the time the two of you would usually go to the spot to hang out, and it made him realize what he had done to your friendship. Though he now knew it was him that ruined the friendship, he tried his best to put it at the back of his mind and focus on his relationship with Annabeth.

Meanwhile, you had met Jason, or rather, began hanging out with him more. It's not like the two of you had never met before, but you'd never really clicked or anything, so the most you two did was give each other a little smile when you crossed paths, but now, it was different. You thought that this friendship was even better than what you had with Percy. Jason really understood you, he knew what it was like to lose someone that you cared so deeply about at one point in your life and have to watch them be happy with someone else, while you sit alone, thinking about all the great memories the two of you had shared.

At first, you thought you would never be able to get over Percy, even if you met someone else. 

"Jason, have you ever loved someone so deeply that you thought you would never in a million years be able to get over them?" You asked him one sunny day, as the two of you sat at the spot near the river that you and percy used to hangout all the time.

"Yeah, a few times. Only one of them was in a romantic way, though. I really thought I would never be able to get over her, but here I am now," he said, a small smile gracing his face, which was quite handsome you realized. The thought came as a surprise because you'd never really found anyone attractive when you had been completely infatuated with percy. 

"Do you think you've completely gotten over her?"

"Yeah, I think so. She's still my friend, so if she's happy, then I am, too," he says, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Do you think there's any chance for me to get over Percy completely?" You inquire.

There was a long moment of silence before he finally spoke again, "Yes, I do. and I think you know it, too."

And you realized he was right. You hadn't thought about percy in days.

The two of you continued talking, and you realized that you really were getting over Percy. It was all happening excruciatingly slowly, but it was happening nonetheless, and the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you were beginning to develop a crush on Jason.

While it was nothing in comparison to how you had once felt about Percy, you thought that maybe, just maybe, this could be good for you. Contrary to how you once felt when Percy looked at you and you saw nothing but platonic love for you in his eyes, when you looked into Jason's eyes, you definitely saw something else. Not quite love, but he was definitely interested in you, and that made you feel better than you had ever felt in your life. for once, you felt adequate about yourself. 

As you and Jason continued to hang out, you slowly realized you were falling in love, and you desperately hoped that he was too. Every lingering gaze, every lingering touch, and every word on the tip of his tongue that was left unsaid had you praying every night that he truly felt the same way about you that you felt about him.

"Hey, has anyone ever told you that you're gorgeous?" He asks you randomly one day, causing you to move your head from its place on his broad shoulder.

"No, actually. Why?" 

"Because," he takes a deep breath. "You are gorgeous, and I just thought that if no one had told you, I would want to be the one to make you realize that you are," he finally says, his hand softly running up and down your arm.

"Really? I mean, you're not just saying that, right?" You ask, turning your head down in a failed attempt to hide your flustered state.

"Of course not, I don't say things I don't mean. You are pretty and you should know that. anyone that doesn't see that is just plain stupid," he states matter-of-factly, making you smile.

"Thanks sparky," you playfully say. "If it means anything, I think you're very handsome too."

This statement, and the endearing nickname, causes all the blood to rush to his face, and you hear the way his heartbeat speeds up immediately after you say it.

You felt that this moment was what marked the start of a romance for the history books between you and Jason. And while yours and Jason's romantic journey was just beginning, Percy and Annabeth's may be ending. 

At first, their fight wasn't anything serious, but it quickly escalated as Annabeth slowly got more and more annoyed by how incompetent Percy had been acting lately. Deep down, she knew that something was up with him, and that something had to do with you, and she was almost 100% sure of that. She knew something was up, she just didn't know what.

It had started when she noticed Percy staring at you and Jason whenever you two were in view, and continued from there. Annabeth felt that he wasn't paying as much attention to their relationship, or literally anything but you and Jason for that matter, and she had enough of it, telling him to fix his priorities and quick if he didn't want to lose her.

This argument led to many others of the same variety, all of which were contributors to the inevitable breakup. He saw it coming, but didn't do anything to stop it. All he could think of was how he ruined a beautiful friendship by not being able to balance a relationship and a friendship, and now the two of you were more distant than ever. He knew that you and Jason were getting close, he just didn't know how close, and now he was experiencing the insecurity and inadequacy about himself that you did while watching him and Annabeth fall in love. 

Watching you and Jason was probably the most painful experience Percy had ever gone through in his life, which anyone would find insane if he ever told them, because really, he had been through so many things that he should consider to be more painful, but he somehow didn't.

Now, Percy wasn't a stalker or anything, but he couldn't help but notice the small things that you had once noticed about him and Annabeth when they were falling in love.

He noticed the way the two of you shyly looked at each other, you giggling and something Jason had said, which probably wasn't even that funny, Percy thought.

To say he was jealous was an understatement. The once happy and sarcastic boy was now a heartbroken, jealous, and bitter boy. He wasn't sure if he was heartbroken over his breakup with Annabeth, seeing you with Jason, or a strange combination of both, but he did know that no matter what, his heart was so shattered that he would probably never feel happy again.

This point was pushed even further when he saw the two of you happily cuddling at the campfire one night. He saw the way you were looking up at Jason, body completely leaning on him, and whispering things that must've been flirtatious judging by how Jason's face went up in flames. You two acted like you didn't care who or if anyone saw you. if it was even possible, Percy's heart broke even more.

The universe seemed to be playing a cruel joke on Percy, as your positions had now switched. He'd been going back to your hangout spot on the days you two would've hung out, and was severely disappointed each and every time when you didn't show up. 

That was, until the time you finally were there, but to his dismay, you were not alone. He didn't want to be weird, but he couldn't help it when he acted on his thoughts and hid behind a tree, intently watching the two of you interact. When he saw the two of you share a sweet kiss, he wished that he hadn't been watching, and he wished that he hadn't even come at all. He didn't know why he expected you to be there alone, not when you weren't there any of the other times. He didn't know why his heart broke more in this moment than it did when he broke up with Annabeth.

Until he did. He realized that he was in love with you, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, because you looked at Jason like he was the only person in the world, and Jason looked at you like you personally created every good thing on earth, and there was nothing Percy could do to get in between this love, not when you finally looked happy with yourself. Not when you were happier than he had ever seen you in the 10 years he’d known you.

Not when you were more in love with Jason than you had ever been with Percy.

a/n: i went a littleee crazy with this & ik it wasn't exactly what u req but i hope u'll like this idea too!

#pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #pjo series #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson fic #percy jackson imagine #pjo x you #percy jackson angst #book percy jackson #jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #heroes of olympus #hoo #the heroes of olympus #jason grace imagine #jason grace fluff

[heliads]

Can I pretty please request Carlos Sainz x reader where she’s rly shy and gets worried that maybe he wants someone more outgoing but he tells her he loves her any way she is? Your writing is amazing 🫶🏻

anon i love you wholeheartedly please let me speak on carlos

masterlist

You are not who you are supposed to be. There are qualifications for being the girlfriend of a Formula One driver, you’re sure of it, probably even a style guide somewhere if you only bothered to look it up. Perfect hair. Clean makeup. Pretty, but doesn’t try too hard. Willing to give up their whole life to follow one man on mad jaunts across the planet. Wherever your guidebook is, though, you must have lost it long ago, because you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and worst of all, it’s starting to show.

You never should have gotten into this position in the first place. That isn’t to say that you hate it, far from it; dating Carlos Sainz is the best thing that ever happened to you, making you the happiest wrong person at the right time to ever exist. In every other universe, he’s probably seeing models or actresses, but here, he has you, and you’re willing to fight off every multiversal version of you just to keep everything as it is right now.

Your butterfly effect was quite stunning, actually. You ended up getting tickets to a Grand Prix through last minute cancellations. They were great, came with paddock passes and all that, and while you were lingering through Ferrari hospitality, Carlos happened to drop by to visit a friend and he noticed you while you were in line to get some water. He’s got the confidence of, well, a world class athlete, an adrenaline junkie, a professional race car driver, and so he introduced himself.

Sometimes, it’s just as easy as that. A father’s cousin’s roommate buys two tickets to a Grand Prix, then a stranger’s roommate’s brother gets sick, and suddenly you’re touching down off a plane overseas and walking through the door of paddock hospitality. You wear red, and you are seen. Just like that.

It took one more weekend before either of you knew that you wanted what you had to last for good. He texted you, followed you on Instagram and blew his cover of seeming cool by accidentally liking a post of yours from six years ago. And, when he saw you again, he knew that he wanted the spark between you to be something more, something like a bonfire.

Coincidence may have supported you thus far, but you don’t trust it not to abandon you. At the end of the day, you are you, you are Y/N L/N, and you are so far removed from Carlos’ world that it stuns you to think that you were even in his orbit so long as to meet him. If there are powers that be somewhere in the universe, they’re either playing a cruel joke or messing around to give you a helping hand. 

Hopefully, it’ll be the latter, but truly who knows at this point. As if it wasn’t surreal enough to introduce Carlos to your friends and family as Carlos Sainz, Formula One driver. As if it doesn’t blow your minds that people have started making Instagram accounts just dedicated to posting photos of you and your boyfriend whenever you’re seen out together.

The problem lies in the insanity of it all. You are not from this sort of life, you weren’t born into a silver spoon dynasty and you barely know how to interact with any of them now. You get along with the other WAGs as best you can; Heidi’s lovely, sure, and you were friendly with Charlotte until she disappeared, but sometimes it feels like it’s just you and your boyfriend against the world. Of any ally to pick, Carlos would be your top choice each and every time, but still. The fact remains that he will go out and race and leave you to your own devices, and you lack the extroverted impulses to social climb with everyone else.

This, then, is the main concern. You can pick out whatever designer clothes you want, goodness knows Carlos has offered to buy you anything already, and you can get your nails and hair done before each and every race, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, at your core, are never going to enjoy the paparazzi circus whenever you have to brave it.

It’s just not your scene, that’s all. You’re on the quieter side, happy to spend time with a few key friends but increasingly nervous in large crowds. Formula One is all large crowds, as you’ve discovered; thousands of fans, hundreds of engineers and team members, plus drivers and girlfriends and best friends. So many eyes, all on you. So many voices all shouting over each other.

You love Carlos, though, and you love him wholeheartedly, so you gather up your courage and go to race weekends when you can. Every time Carlos sees you in the crowd, he smiles so widely his friends tease him for weeks, and he runs to you first after every podium and strong finish. You want to be there for your boyfriend, truly you do, you just wonder if all of this should come easier to you than it does.

Also, you wonder if Carlos wishes the same thing. He has been nothing but perfect to you, so the spirals of guilt currently tangling their way through your insides are purely of your own creation, but what if he truly does think like that? Carlos must see the other WAGs, how they shine and sparkle with attention instead of feeling the urge to run. Wouldn’t he want that? Wouldn’t he get frustrated that you can’t be like the rest?

Thousands of girls in the world, and he picks you. You don’t know if it’s sweet or genuinely frightening. He wanted you out of everyone, yes, but he could replace you in a snap, swapping you out like some useless part on his car. There is nothing about you that cannot be replicated in any other girl. Even Charles did it, in a way, got himself a new girlfriend that’s a dead ringer for Charlotte. Carlos has no reason to keep you except for something he knows and you don’t.

The guessing will drive you mad, maybe, but you’ll lose your sanity long before that just trying to keep up with everything in his fast-paced life. You’ve been to prior F1 races, obviously, it’s how you met Carlos in the first place and it’s also how you kept him, but this upcoming weekend is different, this is Barcelona. Carlos is the center of attention at his home race, and every step he takes, a new storm of people is flooding in to ask him for autographs, selfies, anything to remind them that he’s real and right before their eyes.

Carlos doesn’t ask for a whole lot, and he certainly didn’t force you to come to this race, but you saw the hope in his dark eyes when he brought it up oh-so-casually at a dinner last week. You had assured him that you would go there to cheer him on along with the rest of his home crowd, and Carlos had been delighted for the rest of the evening.

You are happy to go, truly, but it’s taking everything in you to keep your smile up in front of the reporters and crowds and fans, and it’s just the first day. All you’re handling right now is qualifying, not even the actual race. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers that it’s only going to get worse from here on out, but when Carlos looks back at you as you wind through the paddock, you just smile and tell him you’re glad to be there with him. You’re here for him, after all, and Carlos is busy enough with race stuff that he won’t want to hear your complaints.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself throughout the entirety of that day. Carlos qualifies well and is properly pleased about it, as he should be. The possibility of a podium or perhaps even a win for his home race has been one of his top goals for the season, and he’s as close as he can get to it right now. He earnestly talks about it the whole drive back to your hotel, but once you’re back in the safety and peace of the room, the conversation abruptly switches back to you.

Carlos sheds his jacket at the door, watches you flop down onto the bed with a smile on his face, then asks you pointedly, “And how are you doing, amor?”

You smile back at him, the expression trained to perfection after being tested so many times today. “Great! Glad that everything’s going so well for you. I’ll be cheering for P1 tomorrow.”

In truth, you’re tired more than anything. People kept coming up to you all day, assuming that taking a selfie with Carlos’ girlfriend was at least half as good as getting to see him. They gave you all manner of gifts and things to give to him, extracting promises that you’d tell him dozens of different people wished him well. You knew you’d get a lot more attention when you started dating Carlos, but the lack of personal space and privacy at the races is truly unlike anything you’d experienced before.

Carlos has been dating you long enough to pick up on this, apparently, because he furrows his brow and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “I’ll be glad to see you tomorrow, but do you want to tell me what is really on your mind? Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know you, no?”

You sigh, covering your face with one of your arms. Carlos deflects from this attempt to hide by gently pulling your arm away, pressing a kiss to your forehead to make up for it. “Talk to me, cariño.”

You look sorrowfully at him, but when it becomes clear that Carlos won’t let you go until you confess, you give in. “It’s just a lot, I guess. The people and the cameras and everything.”

Carlos frowns. “I can get them to go away, you know that. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You look away. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear it. All of the other girlfriends have no problem with it, just me. I thought you’d want me to be more outgoing, so I tried, I really did, it’s just hard for me, I don’t know why.”

When you dare to risk a glance up at Carlos, you’re surprised to notice that he looks genuinely hurt. “Sweetheart, you didn’t think that I would actually be unhappy about that? I just want you to be happy. Don’t think about me.”

You let out a low breath. “I know, it’s just– I want to be like the rest, really. I don’t want this to be a reason–”

You cut yourself off, distracted by Carlos’ hands still wrapped around yours. Carlos picks up on the obviously dropped subject, though, and looks at you with fresh concern. “You don’t want it to be a reason for what?”

“That you would break up with me,” you whisper.

That’s it, then. That’s the truth. If you can’t live with Carlos’ lifestyle, why wouldn’t he leave you for someone who could? It makes perfect sense to you, but judging by Carlos’ expression, that logic couldn’t be further from his mind.

“No, Y/N,” he says, “That’s not right at all. I don’t want to break up with you, like, ever. Not because of this. I don’t want someone else, I want you. I love you, querida. I love the girl who showed up out of nowhere and made me forget about every other woman in the world. I love the girl who shows up to my home race even though it stresses her out because she wants to be there for me. I love you, Y/N. No one else. Just you.”

And, well, in the face of such passionate declarations, who could stand firm in their own self-pity? Certainly not you. You smile and let him kiss you again and again until you can’t see straight, and after that it is better, it is all better. Hearing it straight from Carlos is better than trying to guess at it. It lets your worries finally sink off into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just what he wants. Just what you want.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #f1 carlos #f1 carlos imagines #f1 carlos x reader #f1 carlos oneshot

[atlabeth]

price of dreaming

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: luke's spiral and the part you play in it.

a/n: this is so sad i'm sorry. like it's just a couple thousand words of luke being sad with a cute little flashback and a percy mention to make it all more sad. i don't know what's wrong with me why did i start writing this series

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): pretty severe angst bc this takes place after hurricane's death and goes up to mid tlt. death ideation, minor descriptions of injuries, luke isn't the best person, just a whole lot of sadness.

Luke returns to camp two weeks after your death, nothing more than a shell of himself.                      

Half of his time was spent sitting in an interrogation room in a Boston police station, mumbling his way through questions he doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not every day that a teenage girl is found nearly ripped apart in the middle of a city with her boyfriend completely broken next to her. Two EMTs had to literally drag him away from you—at least, that’s what they tell Luke. Everything after your heartbeat stopped is a blur for him. He doesn’t really even know how he got to the station.

And that’s how it is for a while. He talks to detectives who don’t believe him, he stares at the wall and wishes you were here, he goes home with your mom. She’s being asked just as many questions, and she refuses to leave him out on the street or take him back to camp. She doesn’t understand that Luke’s done it all before. 

Eventually, the officers settle on a freak animal attack. It didn’t make sense for an animal capable of doing that to be in the city, but mortals see what they want to see. Luke is just thankful to be out of it. 

But he doesn’t know what to do next. There’s a huge gaping hole in his chest and in his life without you, and he doesn’t know how to live without you. Every time Luke closes his eyes he sees your face, and he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since it happened. He only really manages to stay out when his body practically shuts down from exhaustion. 

Your mom treats Luke like a second son while he’s living with her, and it pains him more than anything. She asks him if he wants to stay with her, try and finish out the semester. He was surprised she still wanted anything to do with him. 

Luke declined. He loved your mom, but being in that apartment without you—walking past your room and knowing you would never be there again, seeing a space you carved out for yourself knowing the most integral part was missing—was just too much for him. The full reality of you being gone still hadn’t sunk in yet. 

He’s soured on the city of Boston as a whole. He’s felt your blood on his hands since the moment it stained his fingers, and for as long as Luke lives he will never forget the look on your mother’s face when she showed up at the police station. 

Your mom offers to drive him back to camp, and though he wants to say no to that as well, he doesn’t. Luke can tell that she needs a distraction, and he doesn’t really know how else he’s gonna get back to camp. They don’t talk very much on the way there, but neither of them burst into tears, so he considers it a victory. 

She parks at the bottom of the hill and hugs him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he welcomes any kind of feeling. 

“Stay safe, Luke,” she says, her hands on his shoulders. “And if you ever need a place to stay—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “And I’ll try.”

She nods a few times, and she blinks back tears as she looks up at him. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. For all those years that you kept her safe.”

It clearly wasn’t enough, Luke wants to say. If it was, he wouldn’t have lost you back then, and he wouldn’t have lost you now. But that wouldn’t help anyone, so he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his throat still dry as a desert. 

“Always.”  

“I know how much you meant to each other,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, Luke.” 

He holds back his emotions. “So am I.” 

Your mom nods again and they say their goodbyes once more, hugging one last time. When Luke reaches the top of the hill, he looks back to see her still standing there. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain, but he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own. 

Luke stops at Thalia’s tree, and he already feels that lump in his throat. 

“I hope you’re together in Elysium,” he murmurs. “I always thought you would like each other.” 

The beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head like it’ll help silence the millions of thoughts scattered around his brain. If Thalia lives on like this, he hopes your spirit is still around somewhere.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry I failed both of you.”

Nobody at camp knows. How could they? 

Luke wasn’t expected back until the summer, though, so his presence at the top of the hill is telling in of itself. Especially alone. 

He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him and gets to the Big House to break the news to Chiron. Thankfully, when he dissolves into tears, it’s behind closed doors. Chiron takes it in a saddened stride, and Luke wonders how many heroes have died in his lifetime. 

You have no siblings to make a burial shroud, so the Athena cabin takes up the responsibility. Annabeth invites him to take part, but he can hardly stomach the thought. 

It’s beautiful. They emulate the ocean through embroidery and Annabeth even gets a little Red Sox patch in. They let Luke burn it, and he’s amazed he even makes it through the ceremony. But the entire camp shows up, and there isn’t a single dry eye. He hopes you at least know how many people care about you. 

Chris takes over as counselor for the indefinite future, which is probably a good thing when Luke can barely muster the strength to get out of bed most days. He picks at his food when he’s able to make it to meals, and his prayers to Hermes have never felt emptier. He used to do one for Poseidon every so often, especially when you were at school, but the thought makes him sick. His eyes never stop trailing over to Cabin Three’s table. 

The Poseidon cabin is empty again. 

Luke doesn’t fully realize the path he’s taken until he’s standing in the doorway and the scent of salty air hits him. He’s so used to hanging out with you after dinner that he just went there automatically. 

It feels unfinished. It is unfinished. You had a whole box of things back in Boston that you wanted to bring back to camp to decorate. 

Your posters still hang on the walls—Blondie, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette. Fairy lights are falling down in the corner, and they’re unplugged. Luke had to remind you to unplug them before you left for the school year. 

You should be standing next to him, smiling and laughing and dragging him in behind you as you rant about capture the flag or the canoe race you definitely didn’t cheat in. He blinks away the tears building in his eyes and he takes a step back. 

You should be here. You’re not. 

(How many more times is he going to end up here chasing ghosts?) 

There are some things a person just can’t get over. 

And that’s how his days go. He barely manages to get out of bed, picks at meals that taste like sand, musters what little strength he has to lead sword lessons, endures pitiful looks and sympathetic speeches. 

Luke gets lost in the past more than he should, oftentimes sitting on the beach talking to you as he watches the waves roll in or sneaking out to the dock in the middle of the night to be in the company of the only person he can stand. 

By the time summer comes back around, Luke is sure of three things. 

He isn’t ever going to be the same again. 

You should still be alive. 

He won’t rest until he’s torn Olympus down brick by brick. 

-

“It’s quiet here,” Luke said.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have any siblings,” you murmured. 

His eyes trailed over to the door and you nudged him with your shoulder. “What do you keep looking over there for? Scared someone’s gonna catch us?” 

He shrugged. “We’re technically not allowed to be in here together.” 

“They can’t say anything,” you said. “We’re both counselors. And no one’s in this place anyways. Besides,” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “we’ve earned all the time in the world.” 

Luke smiled and snaked an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “You think so?” 

“We lost two years together,” you said, laying your head on his chest. “Far as I’m concerned, no one can say a damn thing to us.” 

“It always feels like we talk about the past,” he said. “What about the future?” 

“All I know is I want you in it,” you mused. You always loved resting on his chest because you could hear his heartbeat, could feel the slight rise and fall from his breathing. It meant he was alive, and after what you’d been through, that was more valuable than anything. 

“Obviously,” Luke said coyly. “I want you in mine too. But what about the details?” 

“We gotta finish high school first,” you said. “Have you thought about what I said?” 

“...Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve left camp. Going back to school seems rough for someone who hasn’t been in classes since elementary school.” 

You shook your head. “Which is exactly why my school would be perfect for you. We left at the same age, remember?” You took his hand and began to trace the lines of his palm. “It took some getting used to, but I made it. If I can, so can you—and I’ll help you every step of the way.” 

Luke chuckled softly. “I’m a little worried about leaving Annabeth.” 

“Annabeth of all people would support you going for your education,” you said. “And it’s not like she’ll be on her own—everyone likes her here.” 

“...Talk me through it,” Luke decided. “Say we both go back for the school year. What does a sophomore year for the two of us back in Boston look like?” 

“Well, we’d be living together. We have an extra room in our apartment, and I’m sure I can convince my mom to let you take it.” You let out a sigh as you shifted, moving closer into Luke’s side. “We’d take the T together to school, but you don’t have to worry because I can show you around everywhere.” 

He chuckled. "I could use a refresher on Boston. Don't have the fondest memories there."

"We'll just make some new ones," you promised. “I’m on the soccer team, too. I was JV this year, but I’m gonna make varsity next fall—mark my words.” 

Luke rubbed your shoulder as he hummed. “And I’d come to every game.” 

“You better.” You glanced up at him with a smile. “You could try out for something too. I think you’d make a killing in basketball.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember all those pick-up games we played when we were younger and bored? I was gods-awful.” 

“This’ll be different,” you insisted. “You’ll actually be sleeping on a bed every night, and eating consistently. I think that makes you a better athlete. Plus, you’re not three feet tall anymore.” 

Luke laughed as he intertwined your fingers together. “The star soccer player and the mediocre basketball player. We make quite a couple.” 

“You’d be better than mediocre,” you said. “Anyways—we’d play our sports and kill it, I’d introduce you to all the friends I made last year, I’d show you all around Boston, and I’d get you hooked on the Red Sox.” 

He leaned back against the headboard with a chuckle. “You’re really never gonna let this go, are you?” 

“It’s my sovereign duty to put you onto the Red Sox,” you said, “especially surrounded by all these Yankees. I’m gonna get you to a game one of these days. And after we kill sophomore year, we’ll kill junior and senior year.” You tapped on his chest for each year with your free hand, and his smile grew. “Then we’ll graduate high school together. With honors, and monster-free.” 

“You have such high standards,” Luke said wryly. “I’ve always thought I’d be lucky to pass with C’s.” 

“You haven’t always had me,” you mused. “And when we’re together, we can’t lose.” 

Luke smiled as he looked at your intertwined hands. “Y’know, I think your plan sounds pretty good. I’m pretty sure I could put up with school if it meant more time with you.” 

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Luke moved his hand to keep you there, and when you pulled away, a delicate blush painted his cheeks and pure love danced in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. 

You were the luckiest girl in the world. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

Luke offered a sideways grin. “For what?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

“Thank you, then,” he said. 

“For what?” 

“For sticking with me,” Luke said. “Through everything.” 

“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” you murmured. 

-

The second year isn’t any easier. 

Luke is back to being year-round. There’s no point in going home—not when Connecticut hasn’t welcomed him in years. Not when he would just be another problem for your mother in the midst of her grief. 

So he stays at camp. Endures the pitiful looks from everyone, lies his way through attempted therapy with Chiron, trains more than ever before. No one seems to know how to treat him, because he goes from completely alone to swarmed with sympathy to completely alone again. It takes two months before his friends are acting like he’s a normal person again, and even then it still feels like they’re walking on glass. 

Luke can’t find enough inside of him to care. 

He practices with his sword until he feels like his arms might fall off, only narrowly avoiding the harpies each night. His siblings ask how he does it, why he does it, and he just says he wants to get better. 

But Luke refuses to let it happen again—not when his surrogate sister is all he has left. Not when he sees you every time he closes his eyes. 

His birthday comes and goes, but seventeen is empty without you. He replays your past conversations in his head, about traveling together and graduating together and maybe even going to college together. Demigods aren’t meant to think about the future, but he dared to dream with you. 

And the worst part was that you were right. You made varsity. You were in the middle of killing sophomore year, despite Luke struggling his way through with C’s and the occasional D—you had always been smarter than him. You got him out to a Red Sox game, and gods forbid, he actually enjoyed it. 

You were living the life you deserved, a life of happiness and success and with Luke, and you didn’t even make it past sophomore year. You were meant for so much more, and every day he questions why it was taken from you. Every day, he questions why you’re gone and he’s not. 

The year chugs on in all its misery, and for the first time since he all but rejected him as his son, Hermes appears to Luke. 

His father gives him a quest, and he takes it despite the inherent insult of it. Maybe some part of him hopes he’ll die out there and finally get to see you again. 

(Another part wonders if he’s even worth Elysium. Luke lost you once, then he lost Thalia, and now he’s lost you again. Some kind of hero he is.) 

He goes it alone. It takes him back to the first couple of months before he met you, and when the thought hits him, it almost overwhelms him. Everything makes Luke think of you, but it makes sense. He’s only living half a life—he’s missing the other half of his soul. 

Luke fails his quest. He manages to get a claw and he manages to nearly lose an eye. There’s no glory in a repeated quest, but there might be even less glory in this. 

And once more, Luke staggers back to camp as a victim rather than a hero. Someone only worthy of pity, someone so weak that Chiron bans quests unless they’re absolutely necessary. It takes weeks for the scars on his body to heal, and the mark on his face even longer. He becomes well-acquainted with the cycle of Apollo kids that take shifts in the infirmary.  

He feels nothing but disgust every time he looks in the mirror. After all, the claw marks ripping their way through his body match yours. Sometimes he wishes Ladon finished the job. 

It doesn’t make sense why, after everything, he’s still here. 

Luke can hardly stand to be at camp, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He gets better at hiding his emotions, better at acting like he’s gotten through it. New demigods show up and he’s not the bereaved counselor anymore—he’s not introduced with his grief. He hides it away.  

No one wants to deal with all the problems he’s racked up. His mom, his dad, Thalia, you.    He’s a demigod. Demigods are resilient. So he plays the part—he’s been through a lot, but he’s past it. He promises he’s not a burden anymore. He’s just a normal kid. 

And for a while, Luke is almost able to believe it himself. He’s never going to be over you, but he starts feeling like a person again rather than a ghost of one. He’s fully taken over the mantle of counselor again, and he’s actually present during sword-fighting lessons. He even manages to get a six-month-long capture the flag winning streak going on. 

And then Kronos appears in his dreams. 

Luke knows Greek mythology. It’s hard not to pick up a couple things when you’re fighting stuff from the history books, but they teach some lessons at camp. It’s nice to know what you’re up against before you die a brutal death. 

Kronos killed his father. He ate his children. Every wicked deed was done for power, and power is what he offers Luke. 

And maybe there’s something wrong with him, because it’s the first time he’s felt hope since he left Boston. 

Luke finally has an answer to something. He’s been silently cursing the gods for years, trying to figure out a way to tear everything down without getting himself immediately killed, and he’s got one. 

Kronos speaks to him most nights. He remembers the dreams you shared with him in your final year, all the restless hours spent sitting together on the fire escape as he soothed you. You thought Kronos was the reason for it, but he couldn’t have been. His dreams were nothing like yours. 

But still, Luke wonders every day what you would say if you were here, if you knew the treacherous path he’d embarked on. Kronos promised power, freedom, an end to Olympus and the reign of the gods. 

He doesn’t care about power. He just wants to hold you again. He wants to hear your laugh again. He wants to see your smile in more than pictures. 

But he can’t. And he wants to destroy everyone responsible for it. 

So he does everything the Titan Lord asks of him. He hones his skills even further, he lays low, and when the time is right, he steals Zeus’s bolt and Hades’ helm. Luke even nearly beats Ares when he’s caught, but Kronos doesn’t lead him astray—he speaks of divine war, and he gets out of it. 

He continues to see you. Kronos doesn’t lead him astray, but he punishes him for such a close call. Luke wakes in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving with labored breaths, and he feels your blood on his hands all over again. He sees you die over and over again and he can do nothing to stop it.  

You always told each other about your nightmares. 

That’s the hardest part of it all. You’ve always been so closely intertwined with Luke’s life since the moment he saved you in that aquarium years ago, and he can’t see any way to let go of you. He can’t—even though you’re gone, you’re still a part of him. His first instinct in any situation is to tell you, and it kills him that he can’t. 

And maybe things would have turned out different for Luke if you were still around. He’s never going to forgive himself for your death, and he’s certainly never going to forgive the gods. Thalia pushed him to the edge, but you were the breaking point. Luke is only nineteen and he’s loved and lost more than most.

Maybe things would be different if you were here. But you’re not, and they aren’t. So when a new demigod shows up, covered in monster dust and nearly dead on camp’s doorstep with Grover in tow, Luke doesn’t hesitate. 

He killed the Minotaur, and his mom is dead. Skilled enough to take on a quest, desperate enough to ignore a couple warning signs. Percy Jackson is the boy Kronos told him about. 

So Luke takes him under his wing. Shows him around camp, welcomes him to the Hermes cabin, trains with him one-on-one. 

Something about his spirit reminds him of you. It’s the grit, he thinks. The determination. The refusal to back down even when it’s the smartest option. When he asks about you that night in the Hermes cabin, Luke’s heart stutters. The kid is too sharp for his liking. 

It doesn’t take long before Luke manages to cement himself as one of his friends, maybe only third to Annabeth and Grover. He’s a lost kid that’s been thrust into a world he doesn’t understand, and Luke is the closest thing to a rock most campers have got. 

It’s supposed to just be a guise, but sometimes, he forgets himself. He likes Percy too much—he just feels too much like a younger brother, and that’s not really good for the already growing guilt in his chest. 

Maybe it’s because Luke sees himself in Percy. Someone playing a part he’s not aware of, an unfortunate pawn with no choice in the matter. Luke tries to push it away. Kronos wouldn’t lead him astray—this was the path he had to take if he wanted anything to change. 

But it’s not like that makes it easier. Because gods, Percy has never looked more like a kid than when he’s suited up in armor for capture the flag. It almost makes Luke regret the plan he has to enact. 

Almost. 

Annabeth has a plan as usual, and thankfully Percy plays the part of bait. Luke tunes out of everything else and lets his battle senses take over—things have already been set into play, and now all Luke can do is hide in plain sight. Soon enough he’s got the red team’s flag past the boundary line, and he’s hoisted up onto his teammates shoulders. Luke is almost able to forget what he’s done. 

…Almost. 

A howl rips through the forest, and the hellhound Luke summoned after the start of the game launches itself at Percy. He’s on the ground before he knows it, the flag forgotten in his hand as he rushes over with the rest of the campers. 

For some ungodly reason, Annabeth tries to step in front of him, but she’s thankfully too slow. The monster swipes at Percy and its claws shred through his armor. For a split second, Luke is back in Boston and his chest stills.

Chiron solves the problem with a cluster of arrows, but the camp is in immediate disarray. Clarisse instantly accuses Percy, Annabeth is trying to make sure Percy doesn’t die, and Luke just hopes his shock is believable enough to hide his annoyance. He’s just a scrawny kid—how the hell is he still alive? But then the unthinkable happens.

Annabeth tells Percy to step back in the lake. The instant he’s in the water, what should have been a fatal wound starts to heal. 

And then a glowing blue trident appears above Percy Jackson’s head. 

Luke feels sick as he lowers himself to one knee with the rest of camp. As the hellhound he summoned melts into the shadows, as he stares at the sacrificial lamb of a demigod meant to unknowingly enact his plan. 

“Poseidon,” Chiron says. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

Your brother. 

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #daughter of poseidon #child of poseidon #sadie writes

[avwfcstan]

Heart Stopper | Leah Williamson

A/N: this was rushed and probs sucks boooo, will probably do a follow up part too (also not proofread lol)

There were many things that gave you a nervous fluttering in your chest; waking up on your birthday, receiving awards, doing interviews and even meeting fans.

But there was also a few things that made that feeling a hundred times more intense. Playing for your country, and whenever Leah looked at you.

It was cliché, but the two of you were completely head over heels for each other. Leah's gaze was the most beautiful thing you ever had the pleasure of catching, but it would always make your heart race a little faster in your chest. Your fiancée often teased you about how nervous you got when you made eye contact especially considering the four years you had been together, but you just couldn't explain it.

Leah looked at you with so much love and affection, a genuine feeling behind her eyes that made you question what you had done to deserve love like hers. Her eyes never failed to make you smile, and appreciate what you had. She was your world, more important than anything in your life; including your career.

You could think of a thousand different examples of times Leah had made you nervous, when you met, when you finally plucked up the courage to ask her out, when you met her family, winning the Euros with her. But nothing would beat how her eyes brimmed with happy tears when you got down on one knee that night in Athens, during a holiday just after England's victory in the summer.

There was a lot of things that made your heart race, beat against your chest as though it was ready to burst, but Leah would always be at the top of your list.

Today was no different, except you had plenty more reasons to be jittery.

Not too long ago, you were called up to represent England at the World Cup and before you knew it, the time was here. Unfortunately, your soon-to-be-wife had sustained an injury to her ACL a few months prior, and it had left her out of the squad indefinitely due to her recovery period. It was tough time for Leah, but you had remained by her side throughout, and she would be forever thankful that you were.

You had played at your best, as well of the rest of the team and it earned you a spot in the semi-finals against France. It was going to be a very tough game, but you had made it this far, and nobody planned on going home early.

No matter how many times you played for your country, it was still scary. Even though you had played well so far, you were so worried it could all go wrong. That feeling in your chest could be a spiteful bastard, and sometimes turn sour at the worst times. It would become a tight feeling, painful and hard to ignore. But in your line of work, it was something that had to be ignored.

"How you feeling, speedy?" A voice had quickly snapped you out of your thoughts. Turning your head to see Millie Bright taking a seat beside you in the changing room that was already full of eager Lionesses prepping for kick off (and listening to ABBA).

You cleared your throat slightly, feeling that familiar twinge in your chest that threatened to turn unpleasant.

"Good." The lie slipped past your lips, not backed up by the fact that your leg was bouncing so quickly against the floor that it could've created a hole.

Millie chuckled beside you before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

"We're gonna kill 'em, save that energy for the pitch kid."

You offered her a quick smile before she patted your back and moved off to have a conversation with Rachel. It was odd, you hadn't quite had this feeling so intense before, but you had figured that the further you got in the competition, the worse it might be. But Millie was right, conserve your energy and let it out when it mattered.

It wouldn't be long before you were due to line up and head out for kick off, and so despite the rules, you pulled out your phone to text Leah. She had managed to convince the physios at Arsenal that she would be fine to fly out for the end of the tournament, promising to cheer you all on from wherever she was sat. She had texted you with the general area, and you told her you'd look for her when you came out.

Putting your phone away, you rose to your feet and followed the team out.

The feeling was ever present in your chest, but it didn't die down. Shaking your head and balling your hands in fists by your sides, it was game time. Win first, worry later.

<><><>

The whistle was blown, and the game kicked off. It was a hard fought battle between both sides. Equal opportunity, but neither could make a real dent in the score line. At the 46th minute, your chest had begun to tighten and your head beginning to hurt, and not in a way you had felt before.

Something was wrong.

An anxiety attack perhaps? Migraine? You had no idea but there was no way in hell you were subbing off this early, not when you were making runs up the wing and crosses into the box that had France's defence all over the place.

One misplaced pass from a French midfielder allowed Lucy to intercept, who passed it promptly to Stanway, sending it you on the left wing where you were already setting up to make the run. Rachel Daly was at the striking position, and after hours of drills, it was about to pay off as an opportunity to score presented itself. By the time the long ball reached your feet, you were off and running it up the line, leaving a stumbling French right back tailing after you. As the end of the pitch appeared, you halted quickly, stopping the ball with you and throwing off the defender for a mere moment.

But that was all you needed.

A sly pass through the legs of said defender allowed you to chip the ball into the rapidly crowding box, but Rachel was there ready to header it in. England, France, the whole stadium held their breath as Daly made contact and sent the shot flying into the top corner. It was though everything was happening in slow motion to you.

Unfortunately, the incredible shot rattled off the woodwork, allowing a defender to clear the ball from the French box, sending both teams back down the pitch.

"France clear the dangerous attempt from England, making safe passes between their back line in order to gain some ground." The commentators were keeping a close eye on this tight-knit game. Their eyes followed every kick of the ball. "-makes a clear pass past Walsh and into the England half, but it appears that Y/L/N has yet to even catch up with her teammates!"

Leah was hyper-focused, prepped for a nasty French counter-attack. With her lower lip between her teeth, she was watching every kick of the ball, hands clenched in hope that the Lioness defence would come through. It was clear that it was neck and neck, and not a single second could be wasted. A French player was closing in on the England box, and Millie was ready to make the tackle, until she noticed a commotion on the pitch.

"France are set on returning the attacking gesture, making good ground- Oh!" The commentator cut himself off. "Is Y/L/N injured? She seems to be stumbling."

The blonde defender's eyes flickered away out the sound of a whistle, the French player halting her attack. Millie's head turned to the sound of the whistle, as did the rest of the players.

There was Rachel, kneeling down beside a body of white kit. Keira stood waving her arms to the side lines, a clear sign of calling for medical aid. The referee had also dropped to her knees, and Leah's heart sank as realisation settled in.

From her position, she was close enough to see that you were lying down on the ground. Still. Unmoving. She didn't see you get tackled, let alone go down. Her throat filled with anxiety, fear. What do I do? Leah couldn't exactly run onto the pitch, but that was her fucking fiancée down there for Christ sake.

"Leah..." Her brother managed out beside her, already knowing. Her brother had come to like you quite a lot, but you were basically part of the family. It was clear the worry was mutual.

The blonde woman heard ringing, her brother's attempts at consoling her falling on deaf ears. She watched as medics ran onto the pitch, and not just team medics, but paramedics. It was clear something was seriously wrong as the ref beckoned them over quickly after her initial examination.

Leah wasn't quite able to process what was going on. Tears pricked in her eyes, and that tight feeling in her own chest had turn into outright panic. Her breathing was staggered, but she was unable to move. She wasn't close enough to hear or see clearly, but she knew.

The English squad all shared a solemn and worrisome look on their faces. Lucy Bronze had her hands on the shoulders of Keira Walsh, seemingly attempting to calm her down. The two of you were close, and seeing you like this was hard. Especially since no-one quite knew what was going on. Lucy pulled Keira away, as the rest of the team quickly stood in a protective circle around yourself and the paramedics, shielding you away from prying eyes in such a vulnerable moment. The French players also joined to fill in the gaps, showing nothing but solidarity for a fellow player.

Your fiancée was only stirred from her panic as her brother grabbed her hand, leading her down from their seats and back inside the stadium. Leah had obviously gained a sort of VIP privilege to watch the match, meaning they had a private area inside before and during the game. As her eyes were torn away from you, her body kicked back into auto drive, ignoring her brother and immediately began searching for someone that could help her.

"Excuse me!" Leah had found what looked like a security guard further down the corridor, just outside the room. "My girlfriend's just been injured and I need to see her!"

The man didn't respond initially, as it seemed he was listening to something being said in his earpiece. "Madam I can't let anyone down there."

Meanwhile, outside the stadium had fallen silent. You were being rushed off the pitch and referee had called a slightly early half-time, sending both teams back to the changing rooms. The Lionesses wasted no time, Sarina was going to have to deliver a game plan at the same time as making sure the rest of the team were okay.

There was a lot of chatter in the changing room.

"Fuck, man!" Lucy stressfully placed her hands on her head. "What the fuck was it?" She asked out loud, hoping for an answer.

"Mate I dunno, she just collapsed." Rachel responded from her seat in her cubby.

Keira just sighed. "It's bad, it's really bad." Emotions threatened to spill over. "She just dropped and she was shaking."

"I heard the paramedics. She was unconscious." Georgia admitted shakily, and the atmosphere in the room changed. But before anyone could say more, Sarina walked in the room alongside some assistant coaching staff.

The girls all shuffled back into their seats, and then Sarina spoke;

"I've been told that Y/N suffered a seizure." The silence in the room was heavy. "We do not know why, but she's on the way to the hospital."

No one knew what to say. Not really.

"Is she going to be okay?" Jess asked what everyone was thinking. The obvious question.

Sarina's gaze dropped.

"I don't know at this time, but it seems that way." Sighs of relief were audible.

Millie then spoke; "Has anyone told Leah?" Heads turned to look at her. "She's here, there's no way she hasn't seen."

"I've sent someone up to grab her, they'll take her to Y/N." The England coach informed her team. "Look ladies, I know you are all gravely concerned about your teammate, and the support and care you showed at their proved it. But Y/N would want you all to go back out there and give it your best."

It was true, the girls all knew how much the game meant to you, and that you were the type of person to never quit. You expected the same thing from everyone else. In truth, it was a part of what made the team so special.

But their hearts also ached for Leah. Watching the person you love have something so horrible happen to them was hard.

So they would go back out there, and win it for you. You and Leah.

<><><>

The match was over. England won 2-1.

Leah couldn't quite bring herself to care, though. For a rare occasion, something in her life had taken precedence over the game.

She was sat alone in a waiting room, in some Australian hospital, waiting to hear anything from you. She had been there for two hours. Before Leah could rip off that security guard's head, an England staff member had grabbed her, telling her everything he knew before helping her get to the hospital. She thanked him profusely, and went inside, trying to find out what was going on with you.

The England captain was told to wait, and that was what she had been doing ever since. Her brother had come in and out, busy making phone calls to his and Leah's mum.

"Leah Y/L/N?" Her head snapped up at that. She had forgotten she had lied about her name, telling them you were married already in fear they wouldn't let her see you. Leah bolted up and headed to the nurse who had called her name, indicating for the woman to follow her.

She pulled out her phone and text her brother that she was going to see you before she was brought outside a door. The nurse opened it and ushered her in, stating she would give some privacy before the nurse came over.

For the first time ever, Leah's gaze on you was one filled with heartache.

Hooked up to wires, pale as anything. Sitting in a bed you had no purpose being in. You didn't look like you.

"Y/N..." The tears that the defender had desperately tried to hold back had breached her eyes once again, flowing freely. You were awake, and the sudden noise had you looking over at your lover.

"Leah." You sighed, seeming a lot more awake than she had been expecting. The girl rushed over and grabbed your hand, before you pulled her into a hug, immediately wrapping your arms around hers. "I'm okay, c'mon, I'm okay."

You attempted to soothe her hurt, ironically. But Leah pulled away, sobbing.

"But you're not! Oh my God, you aren't okay!" Leah hated the word hysterical, she thought it had sexist undertones, but she felt a little hysterical right now.

"Hey! I'm alive! I'm breathing! I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?" You quipped, smiling at her. You still looked pale, slow moving. But still, that was you. "It was a seizure. Stress, they said. They need to do more tests but, I'm all good."

Leah knew you were okay, the evidence was right in front of her. But it didn't make this any less scary.

She didn't even have to say anything, her lip just quivering. You pulled her back into you, mindful of the wires connected to your body. "I know, baby. I'm right here." You ran a soothing hand up and down her back.

"I should be comforting you right now." She mumbled into your neck, making you chuckle.

"Ha, I'm sound." That made her giggle.

"You collapsed." She deadpanned, pulling away slightly again.

"I know."

"You're going to be okay?" She asked, those beautiful eyes finding yours again. "You're going to be okay."

"I know." You repeated, and your fiancée kissed your cheek.

She spent the next minutes asking you how you felt, and you explained how you felt just before you went down and how you remembered nothing whilst you were unconscious.

"I didn't even know I had a fit till I got in the ambulance. I just felt so...tired. Exhausted." Recounting your trip to the hospital, Leah was constantly stroking your hair, looking you in the eyes to make sure you were really there. "But I'm good. I'll be good."

Leah didn't say anything, she just leaned in and kissed you softly on the lips. The two of you shared a sweet embrace until a short beep on your monitor made you both pull away. Leah turned her head and saw your heart rate monitor, and that your BPM had spiked slightly.

Your face went red with realisation, and Leah just bit her lower lip bashfully.

"Do I make you nervous or something?" She teased, and you just sighed at her antics.

"Shut up!" You flopped back into the bed, letting yourself lean against the mattress.

There was a beat of silence.

"I didn't make anything stressful for you, right? I know the last few months have been hard-" You cut Leah's rambling off quickly before she could spiral, knowing what she was like.

"Nope! None of that please. Leah, I've always been shit with dealing with stress. It's my own fault for bottling it up. I'm gonna start seeing someone when we get back, manage my emotions better. Promise." You reassured her, and you meant what you said. You knew Leah had some of the toughest months of her life the past year. Coming off the highs of captaining the team to the Euros win, to being injured and missing out on the biggest tournament in the world was so hard. But you didn't regret helping her through a single minute of that, and no matter how tough it was really, you would never let her take the blame because there was simply none to place on her shoulders.

The two of you were interrupted by a doctor entering the room, apologising for the intrusion.

"Ah, I see your wife found you then, Mrs Y/L/N?" He smiled, walking over to your other side and checking a few machines.

You turned your head sheepishly to Leah.

"Wife, huh?"

She just hummed in response.

"A couple of months, give or take."

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso #woso one shot #engwnt #lionesses #woso community #lionesses x reader #awfc

[rayshippouuchiha]

MHA Au where Izuku’s quirk let’s him see spirits/monsters but instead of befriending them like usual, he becomes a whole ass monster hunter. I’m talking full on spn salt and burns, illegal fire arms in his backpack, monster journals, etc.

Hmm gonna switch it up a bit but:

Izuku's neighbor is a monster.

Hands fisted tightly in the length of his Mama's skirt, Izuku watches, wide-eyed and trembling, as his Mama chats softly with the thing in the elevator with them.

"Say goodbye to Akuhara-san, Izu-kun," Mama prompts gently.

But all Izuku can do is clutch tighter to her and whimper.

"I-I'm sorry," Mama frets softly as she ushers him out of the elevator. "He's not normally this shy."

"Adorable little thing," the thing called Akuhara croons, voice whispery and soft in a way that makes the hair on the back of Izuku's neck stand on end. "Could just ,,, eat him up."

When Izuku manages to peek around his Mama's leg and look Akuhara-san grins at him with too many teeth, one spindly hand raising to wiggle long gnarled fingers in Izuku's direction.

Izuku squeaks and hides his face again.

But even after he's back in the safety of the apartment he can't help but wonder just how someone with antlers as big as that thing's had been could fit inside the elevator.

~~~ Later, when it's time for bed, Izuku tries to tell his Mama about what he saw.

"Scary," Izuku manages to whimper, remembered terror tracing down his spine.

"Izuku!" Mama gasps, one hand coming up to press against her chest. "What a rude thing to say, young man! I don't want to hear anything like that out of you again, you hear me?"

"Y-Yes," Izuku whispers, unsure of what, exactly, he's done wrong.

The kiss Mama presses to his forehead is a bit shorter than normal.

Sleep is a long time coming for him that night.

~~~

He tries again though, after another run in with the monster.

Tries to tell her about how wrong Akuhara really is.

How that thing, whatever it is, is dangerous.

But ,,,

It doesn't go well.

~~~

Izuku looks at Akuhara and he sees something more than a man, something twisted and wrong, staring back at him.

But the problem is ,,,

Izuku's not the only one looking.

~~~

"I see you, little morsel," Akuhara whispers to Izuku, mouth split wide in a vicious grin as a long, black tongue slides out to flick almost teasingly in Izuku's direction.

Izuku can't help it ,,,

He screams.

~~~

"-ever been more humiliated in my life!" Mama says, hand tight around Izuku's wrist as she drags him into the apartment.

Izuku cowers just a bit when she finally releases him, shoulders hunched and head bowed.

Mama is never really angry with him, not like everyone else, so for Izuku this is just ,,,

Bad.

So much worse than Kacchan or the sensei at school being mean to him. So much worse than anything and everything the other kids have ever said or done to him.

"You will apologize to Akuhara-san," Mama finally huffs, hands planted on her hips and face flushed.

And Izuku ,,,

"No," It's a whisper but in the tense silence of the apartment, it might as well have been a shout.

"What did you say?" Mama blinks, obviously shocked.

He just can't anymore.

He's tried so hard to tell her, to make her see, and she still won't ,,,

"I-I'm not saying s-sorry to that, that thing," Izuku manages to shove the words out. "It's a m-monster. It's ugly and scary and you shouldn-"

The slap catches him off guard.

He yelps, hands flying up to clutch at the familiar throb of his cheek.

He's been hit before, gets hit often really these days, but never here, never at home where he's always been safe, and never by her.

"Y-You can't say things like that," Mama whispers, expression stricken as she clutches the hand she'd hit him with to her chest. "Y-You, Izuku, you can't just," she heaves in a shuddering breath, "just because you don't have a quirk doesn't mean you can say things like that about people who do."

Izuku's hands fall down to his sides as he stares up at her in horror.

And then he turns on his heel and runs to his bedroom.

Inko doesn't follow.

~~~

That night, with the bedroom door locked, his cheek still throbbing, and his chest heaving from the force of his sobs, Izuku tucks himself down in the darkest corner of his closet and cries himself almost sick.

~~~

It's not a quirk.

Izuku knows that.

Whatever it is about Akuhara-san that sets Izuku off so deeply isn't a quirk.

Izuku might only be nine years old and he might be quirkless but he knows quirks.

Whatever Akuhara-san is?

It's not natural.

~~~

Except, as Izuku learns through hours of research, hours of study and computer time when his Mama isn't home, maybe it is.

Maybe whatever it is that's pretending to be a regular man named Akuhara-san is actually very very natural.

And maybe that's not a good thing at all.

~~~

Izuku kills his first monster at 9 years old.

He comes out of the encounter bruised and bloody but alive and satisfied.

Come to find out, no matter how big a Jubokko's branches, not antlers as he'd first thought, are they're still vulnerable to salt and fire just like any other tree.

Inko never looks at him the same, never actually asks the questions Izuku can see lingering in her mouth but, well, she's alive and well and really that's all Izuku wanted in the first place.

~~~

Teeth gritted against the pain and careful of his bandaged arm, Izuku pulls a black-covered notebook from his desk and grabs a fresh pen.

Monster Analysis Vol 1 he scrawls across the front cover before he flips it open.

Akuhara-san might be gone but Izuku refuses to be caught unaware and vulnerable ever again.

#Wayward Son AU #BnHA #MHA #RayRambles