#like i thought it was hormonal and shit but its not fucking going away
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vent in tags bbg
#okay so i have some irls on here but idk how often theyre on fucking tumblr but if you see this i love you very much and im not gonna kms#okay so literallly i got broken up w last night and im honestly really fucking relieved bc i loved him a lot but we were both so fucking#unstable as individuals that i knew it was never gonna last#but he broke up w me bc he fell out of love w me which bothers me#bc he needs help and hes starting to get it i just hope he doesnt fucking hurt another person#i really thought we were gonna fucking last forever bro#he talked abt fucking marriage#i am a minor#which says everything you need to know abt wanting to marry someone on the night you confess#im just#i just#i dont fucking know anymore#im so sad all the fucking time#like i thought it was hormonal and shit but its not fucking going away#and i told my parents and ive been on a waitlist for therapy but i need it now#i genuinely need help#im not suicidal at all tho i dont want to die i just need a break#when i finish fucking typing this i have to go do my hw. i want to die.#im kidding i just said i didnt#we're still friends though but we built so much together#i miss him a lot#but i couldnt get back together w him#he was really shitty to me tbh#but he was my first so many thing that its like#idk how to rebuild that trust w anyone to let them see me like that again just for them to fucking leave#and im still so young#im so young and emotional#i have so much time#to love others#idk
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THE WAY U WRITE THE OLD RED DEMON MAN IS JUST SO NEKEKDKEOWB
Might I just add onto the seemingly continuous alastor requests. I'd love to see Alastor x Reader where reader is in heat and Al finds it pathetic but takes pity on them and helps anyway bc like poor thing can't even get their own instincts in control they're obviously hopeless
warnings: 18+!!!NSFW
You thought when you died you would be rid of hormones.
Periods were a pain while living, but this is was worst.
When you were alive, your periods plagued you with mood swings, random cravings, and pain.
Now that you were dead, you didn’t experience the dreadful red flood and raging mood swings; no. Now all you felt was unbelievably horny and needy.
And you hated it.
You usually carried yourself with confidence and elegance.
You usually liked to help around the hotel and were generally friendly with everyone.
You grimaced as you woke up to feel just how drenched your panties were. I really need to stock up on new underwear you thought as you tossed the ruined panties into the hamper.
You usually spent your heats alone and could hide in a hole until you felt normal again. You usually could control yourself well enough til you had enough free time to ease the tension between your legs.
Or until you found a poor sinner.
Weeeeellll that was hard when you lived in a hotel with a ton of shit to do. You really didn’t want to hear Angel’s jabs as you dragged some unfortunate soul to endear your sex rage.
You sighed, hopefully you could get through the next few days without embarrassing yourself completely.
So far so good you thought as you went about your day doing whatever activity Charlie had you do with the group.
Every touch and scent didn’t send your cunt into a tingling frenzy; yes you had to change your panties a few times but nothing crazy.
That was until you were around Alastor.
Your body practically buzzed whenever the tall red demon was in your vicinity.
You first chalked it up to that it was because you did found him attractive and simply thought it would go away.
But your cunt begged a differ.
You squirmed a bit on the couch as Alastor took a seat beside you, clenching your thighs to ease the uncomfortable throbbing.
It didn’t help that he smelled amazing.
Alastor smelled like evergreens how y’all ever smelled Christmas pine??? That shit is delicious!!!!
And you didn’t realized you had took a deep inhale of him until he turned to you
”Is everything alright my dear?” He asked, eyebrows raised.
fuck how were you going to tell him you wanted to bury your nose into his neck and just SNIFF?
“O-oh I’m f-fine…i-its just you smelled nice?” You wanted to facepalm.
He blinked at you before letting out a laugh “OOooh why thank you my dear” that shit eating grin widened, voice dropping a slight octave“I must smell very enticing if you’re sniffing at me” his eyes narrowed slightly.
A shiver ran through your body and you swear you were leaking through onto the couch. You wanted to die of embarrassment.
“I-I just never noticed before that’s all” You said shrugging, trying to ignore the fact that his very voice was affecting you.
Charlie had ended whatever the hell you were doing and you quickly made your way to your room, causing some confusion.
You were usually a social butterfly with the gang. You never not chat away with Angel as he told the wild shit he did on set.
“Has got to be that time of the month” Angel commented as you almost sprinted out the room. Charlie and Vaggie gave confused looks ”what?” He sighed “You know…” nope not a clue.
”She was a human remember? Every so often her pussy basically shreds itself to bits”
Charlie gasped “So she’s hurt? Shouldn’t we do something?” Angel laughed,shaking his head “Nah we can’t help. But she'll be fine. Just give her a few days and she'll be normal again”
Alastor was in the background listening, the smile on his face sharpened, you weren’t hurt or bleeding, but there was definitely something that could be done.
You snarled as your vibrator died and tossed it. You groaned as your clit continued to throb. You had thought four orgasms would have did the trick but nope you still had the irritating itch.
You didn’t own a dildo because it was pointless.
it wasn’t the real thing.
You wanted to cry. This was your first heat while you’ve been at the hotel and you didn’t just want to drag a stranger here.
You had more control than that.
At least that’s what you thought.
You had locked yourself in your room as you tore your room to bits. The walls were shredded, pillows and sheets drenched in slick and your poor toy was in pieces.
Panting, you curled in a corner and tugged at your hair, squeezing your eyes tight as tears began to pool in your eyes.
You hated this.
You hated how it felt like you didn’t even feel like yourself.
Hated that you couldn’t even control your own damn bodily function.
Hated how your body desperately wanted to be filled.
You would give anything to make this horrid feat of yours go away.
“I would have never thought to see you in such a state my dear”
You froze at the voice and jerked your head to the source.
Alastor.
He was standing at the entrance of your bedroom, a smirk on his face as he took in the state of your room.
”I must say, it. Is rather entertaining to see your lack of control” he said as he approached your curled form.
He crouched down, feigning a concerned look before a clawed hand seized your hair and wrenched your face til your noses were bumping against each other.
”did you think I couldn’t smell you?” He growled “You smell just like a bitch in heat”
You whimpered as his lips ghosted over yours “I-I’m sorry”
His scent was surrounding you. It was a drug. Assaulting your every nerve with each breath you took.
He smelled so good
please
”Please” you whispered as your cunt buzzed, tingling from his clos proximity and in hopes he would have mercy on you.
Alastor sucked his teeth at you. What a pitiful thing you were…
With a deep breathe, he stood and walked over to your ruined bed and sat. You watched as he sat his mic down and removed his coat. Yanking at his tie, he unbuttoned his shirt and looked over at you with narrowed eyes “Well? Do you want to continue to ruin your furnishings or do you wish to satisfy that brazen desire of yours?”
He widened his legs and your eyes honed in on how he unbuckled his pants.
Your throat tightened and you found yourself crawling over to him, no regard that you were naked.
Kneeling between his legs, your hands soothed up his thighs as your rubbed your head against his crotch.
Alastor lifted your chin for your eyes to meet his. Your eyes were blown out and you winced as his grip tightened.
”I pity you my dear, reduced to wanton whore, but don’t fret…Ill help you through your heat” a thumb ran over your pouty lip.
Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words.
You damn near drooled as he adjusted himself to pull his cock free from its restraints.
It was big, in both length and girth. It slapped against your face, causing you to hum at the weight of it.
You nuzzled it, nose gliding along his length before softly pressing kissed along it. When you came to his mushroom tip, you didn’t hesitate to suck at it. Alastor sighed as you gave the head of his cock kitten licks.
Head clouded with desire, you slowly bobbed your head along his length, taking him whole as you gagged once you reached the hilt.
You eased him out your throat and with a sickening pop, you admired as his spit-covered cock shined. You opted to jerk him off slowly as you buried your nose in his ball, inhaling his scent.
Alastor’s hand found your hair and guided you away from his cock, bringing you to climb up his body, until your smoldering heat was rubbing against his cock as he pressed kisses to your shoulder and neck. A gasp tore from your throat as he nipped at your jaw.
”On fours my dear”
Clumsily, you scrambled to follow his instruction. You must not have been to his liking because he pressed your head til your cheek was flat to the bed, back in a deep low arch, thighs pressed to your stomach and spreaded wide with your ass and cunt exposed to the air.
You would have blushed in embarrassment if you weren’t so turned on.
A hand glided down your back, causing you to shiver and then jolt as a harsh slap was planted on your ass, before it soothed over the burning cheek.
Alastor kneaded your ass before sliding his fingers down to your cunt.
Your slit was swollen and your clit, puffy with need.
You were dripping.
He dipped a finger inside you, testing how wet you were.
Soppy.
He added a second, your cunt greedily welcomed his fingers with ease, giving into resistance.
He chuckled “What a greedy cunt, sucking in my fingers like a cock”
You whined when he took his fingers out, already missing the feel of something inside you.
Alastor took his cock and rubbed it against your cunt, coating himself in your slick.
”I am going to fuck you to your little sinful heart desires and you are going to be grateful of everything I give you. You are going to take every bit of my cum until it spills from this cunt and then again and again until I have bred you so thoroughly. Do you understand slut?”
You were breathing heavily, trembling in excitement.
With a single, sharp thrust he filled your cunt, earning a soft cry from you.
”Do you understand?”he hissed through clenched teeth.
”Y-Yes A-Alastor”. you whimpered, eyes clenched shut in pleasure.
”Good girl”
He drew back and thrusted into you again
And again
And again
He had set a slow, but rough pace. Thrusting his cock deep into the soft warmth of your cunt with each drag.
Soft moans filled the air as he buried his cock inside you.
It felt so good.
He reached depths your finger couldn’t quite reach.
And it was amazing.
”A-Ala-stor Aah! Aaah! Hah!” You pushed your hips against his, mewling loudly as he grinned his cock into you.
”Youre pathetic ” He laughed, eyes watching his cock disappeared inside you, giving you a hard thrust at his words.
”Nothing but pathetic slut who can’t control their own body”
His grip on your hips pulled you flushed against him, making you take him til his balls was nestled against your slit.
”You probably would have spreaded your legs for any poor sinner, just wanting to be fucked dumb” Your body rippled as his thrusts got harder.
Your cunt only got wetter.
He noticed as he seemed to sink even deeper into you, as if your cunt loosened to welcome him
”oh? I bet you would have liked that wouldn’t you? So out of sorts with need that you would have just anyone bred this cunt”
He growled at the squelching noises from your cunt, you shook your head in denial.
No. No you wouldn’t haven’t done something like that.
”N-no I-I wouldn’t-” You cried out as his finger ghosted over your swollen clit.
”You would have been happy to bend over and offer your cunt to anyone, as long as you had a cock fill you” Alastor continued before a cruel, deep laugh erupted from him
”But instead you sought me out. I had no intention in satisfying you, but what a gentleman would i had been if I ignored a lady in need?” You felt him lean over, hips never missing a beat as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.
”Oooh how fortunate you are my dear”
You were suddenly flipped onto your back. Hair sprawled around you like a halo, your chest heaving as he pushed your knees to your chin.
Your lidded eyes watching as he slide his cock between your pussy lips, bumping your clit. He grabbed your wrists, using them as leverage as he thrusted back into you, the new angle making your throw your head back with a broken cry
”FuuuuuUccckk Ah Ah AH!” His hips dug into the underside of your ass as he pounded your cunt.
Alastor hadn’t lost composure the entire time he fucked you.
He watched as you fell apart, your hips wiggling to accommodate to his harsh administrations.
Your cunt took him so good. A white, creamy ring formed at his base as he scraped against that sponges nerve inside you.
You welcomed him gratefully. Letting him wrench pleasurable sounds from your pretty lips.
Pushing your raised legs apart, he lowered his weight on you as he slammed his lips on yours, swallowing your moans. Your tongues danced as he rocked into your body.
The sounds of him ruining your cunt pushed him to fulfill your primal desire.
You felt that familiar blaze of heat take over your body as Alastor fucked short rapid thrusts into you.
Every brush of his abdomen against your clit had your cunt going haywire.
You were going to cum.
Alastor was going to make you cum.
You moaned at the thought
You were gonna cum on his cock
And he was gonna breed you
Breed your soppy cunt
and you were going to let him
”please….” You whined into his mouth
Fuck the very thought had your body buzzing.
”please what?” he purred
Your head was reeling, foggy with the need to be filled.
A hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing
“What are you begging me for slut? Hmm?” His strokes were hitting harder and deeper.
”You want me to breed your cunt? You want to me to fill you up so good that all you’ll ever think is how my cum belongs inside you? What do the little slut want?”
Yes you wanted all of it.
You wanted him to fuck you so good, you wouldn’t even think of wanting another cock from his.
You wanted him to fill your cunt to the brim and then fuck it back inside.
You wanted him to breed you like the little slut you were.
To breed you til he had his fill.
Your instincts had practically took over, fuck sanity.
”Mhmm! I want it. I want you to Ah! I want you to fill me with your cum! Please please breed me Alastor” You whined, feeling your belly clench as your orgasm hung over you, promising sweet relief.
The hand around your throat, tightened causing you to gasp as he spoke into your ear, voice deep and purring
”Youre gonna make yourself cum on my cock slut”
your hand flew to your clit to flick fast circles on the bud.
Alastor’s thrusts quickened, growls pouring from his lips
”Who’s a filthy little slut?”
”M-Me”
”Whos a pathetic slut that’s gonna take my cum?”
”Me!”
”Fucking slut gonna let be breed her dumb”
A sob tore from you as your orgasm washed over you, he fucked you as you milked him, hips angled to thrusts so deep you’re sure your cunt had molded into the shape of his cock
”hah hah aaah fuuucckk fuck fuck Al-Alastor!”
You saw white as your mouth opened in a silent scream only for him to swallow the whine in your throat.
”That’s it you pathetic slut take it. Take my cum. That’s a good girl. Let me breed this sweet cunt cher” your hips raised as he sunk into you and with a deep groan, he cummed into your spasming cunt, making sure to thrust deep enough he hit your cervix as he painted your walls white.
Whether conscious or by instinct, you gave him a ditzy smile, eyes glazed over as you slowly rubbed your clit, whimpering. Holding eye contact with him, a soft pout graced your lips
“Again”
You truly were a pathetic, needy little thing.
But don’t worry pretty Doe, Alastor’s going to make sure you
satisfied and stuffed to your heart’s content
It was going to be very interesting for the next 36 hours…
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Thinking about the freshly corrupted priest Gojo pumping his dick in the confession booth while the sinful vixen sitting in the other cabin went from confessing her sins of corrupting one of the local fathers and having him cream down her throat to giving him instructions on how to handle his throbbing cock lovingly
Go faster now, father- squeeze the tip just a little bit...yes that's a good boy...now spit on it, make a mess of yourself and give everyone a show, all their eyes are peering down and up on you.
And with that, good morning aali my love <3
-glasses anon
☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. confessional.
about. you confess your sins to father satoru, but with the lust bubbling between you both, things get a little carried away.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, sacrilege, religious imagery/references, guided masturbation, male masturbation, priest!gojo, fem!reader, wc: 1.6K.
what good is a priest who can’t follow his own teachings? one that succumbs to the slightest hint of femme fatale?
gojo thought himself a strong man. a good one. but once again, he’d found himself drinking from the devil’s cup offered up by a lost little angel who has strayed away from her path to light.
“and i really didn’t mean to. father toji— i mean fushiguro— seemed so stressed! like he needed a helping hand.” you whimper unevenly from your side of the confessional booth. guilt buzzes in satoru’s veins as he imagines you teary eyed and distraught on the other side of the wall. the mere idea of you crying sends pleasure and lustful hormones shooting through his bloodstream and right down to his erection — the tip flushing a shameful shade of bright red.
you continue relentlessly, each word a breathless whisper laid over the swell of your sinful lips.“s-so i offered some relief in the only way i know how. i let him use my body, let him use my throat. he said it was okay…” but i just feel so wrong for corrupting him like that under the watchful eye of the lord. is it wrong that i liked it, father ‘toru. having that man’s cum pour down my throat?”
you’ve strayed too far away from the light and you’re pulling him into the darkness with you.
“f-fuck.”
“is something wrong father toru, your voice sounds rather strained.” by the tone of your own, he can just tell that you have your head cocked to the side innocently. perhaps your lip is caught daringly between your teeth — eyes gleaming with mischief while you mask your amusement at the damage you’ve caused. the young priest’s dick throbs against his inner thigh, smearing white along his baby soft skin. satoru grabs at his girth, squeezing it as if to stave off the pleasure that he should be disgusted by.
clearing his throat, gojo internally curses as the words stick to its ridges — almost as if he doesn’t believe what comes out of his own mouth next. “i-i’m fine. have you prayed? i’m sure he would forgive you for your sins.”
“i’ve been on my knees every night.” you mumble through a pout that he can’t see — earning another hiss from the priest while his angry red cockhead starts to bleed more arousal, forming a dark stain that seep’s through the fabric of his black slacks. “if you don’t mind me asking… does it hurt, father toru?”
“does what hurt?” he exhales slowly, pearly white lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks. gojo, against his better judgments, pops the button of his pants to provide some relief to his aching cock. it doesn’t help at all.
“your cock. father fushiguro felt the same after i confessed what i’d done with father getou.”
shit. “yes… it does.”
“i maybe be able to help.” your voice somehow sounds closer — as if you’re in the booth with him. “can you touch it… touch yourself for me, please?”
when you ask him so sweetly, how can father satoru say no? he follows your instructions like a man charmed by a succubus from the deep depths of hell. his whole body shudders and his breath stutters when he finally takes his forth between his king and slender fingers, squeezing at the base as precum beads like a rare oyster’s pearl in the centre of his slit.
this is so wrong. “holy…holy shit,” but it already feels so good. gojo hisses, chest heaving as he instinctively bucks into his closed fist. it’s warm, sends shockwaves of pleasure down his spine to build in his pelvis while each vein that wraps prettily around his cock pulses with a new wave of lust laden blood. “what should i…?” he coughs shakily, hips slowly beginning to fuck upwards to chase the feeling of his palm. “what should i do now?”
“spit on it, father.” you command him gently, blessing him with your praise where the higher being above might condemn him. “get it nice and wet for me, like i would, okay? squeeze the tip when you do—“
father ‘toru easily follows your word as if it reads passages from the bible. carefully, he leans forward — letting hot, gooey trails of spit dribble over his blistering and bright cockchead. his entire body twitches at the new sensation, which is surprisingly cool in comparison to how hot his body feels. sweat tracks it’s way down his body, soiling his hood robes and freshly pressed clothes. it makes his pure white locks stick to his forehead, and gathers on his cupid’s bow and it really is all too much.
he feels like hell on earth.
there’s a dull thud that echoes from satoru’s side of the booth, his head knocking against the wooden walls when it falls back. in the same breath, a loud and borderline pornographic moan rips it’s way through satoru’s firm chest — it battles through his lips (caught between sets of perfect white teeth), and reverberates throughout the confessional booth, no doubt catching the attention of people passing by.
“ohmygod,” comes his pathetic whimper while he clenches around himself once again, throat bobbing as he swallows down his sinful sounds. “why does that feel so fucking good? g-god, please!”
satoru’s fall from grace makes a sick smile spread across your lips and you cock your head to the side. you can only imagine what he looks like if this is how he sounds, his clothes a sweaty mess, his eyes delirious and darkened with ungodly and immoral desire. all this while he begs for god, begs for forgiveness, begs for you.
“you’re doing so well for me, ‘toru. can you go a little faster for me? now that it’s nice and wet.” the way his name falls gently from your tongue is like thick honey running through satoru’s ears — you drag a veil of lust over his mind and once again he follows your orders. he pumps himself faster, harder, precum slinging over the edge of his knuckles as they turn as white as his hair from the grip he has on himself.
he can’t help but let his mind stray and wander off into damned territory — chasing the vision that his clouded mind creates for him. would your cunt feel as good as this? wrap around him as tightly? a stream of unfiltered and colourful curses pour from gojo’s mouth in a similar manner to the arousal from his mushroomed tip, dripping a searing hot trail down to his throbbing balls.
lewd squelches slip through the cracks of the confessional booth and filter right through to you. satoru has no idea how pleased you are to have ruined him, how much you’ve longed to hear him mewl and sigh from touching himself against the will of god. “you sound so messy, ‘toru,” you moan out just to mock him a little — listening out for his strained and strangled whines, gargling down the saliva that pools on his tongue. “think you can make an even bigger mess for me, father? one that everyone will see. those above….” you purr, the tail end of your words harmonising with gojo’s hiccups. “and those below.”
satoru is no better than a sinner come to spill their truths to him. sitting there with his painfully hard dick in his hands, fisting it to oblivion as opaque white stains his hands and his fingers and his knuckles. there’s so much of it, so much lust and precum and he hasn’t even reached his peak yet. everything is so fucking hot, his dick slick between his sticky thighs and all-too-tight robes.
“almost there, satoru. i need you to let go for me.”
your goading voice through the thick oak wall pushes satoru’s hips to canter up higher and higher. he wants to please you so bad that it hurts and makes him cry. he whispers your name into the buzzing air like it’s a prayer, chanting it over and over again until it becomes the only word he knows.
“fuck… i can’t—“ gojo sighs airily, his thighs shuddering as the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. “christ… I feel like ‘m gonna burst!” angelic blue eyes roll deep back into the man’s skull, disappearing from the world to hide from the atrocities he’s committed.
“then let go, let it all out. you’ve done so well.” you say sweetly over the sound of gojo languidly jacking himself off. one, two and three more pumps before he’s releasing thick white ropes of cum over his robe and his chest — seeping into his clothes.
gojo’s so fucking dizzy, cumming so hard that he sees bright lights and swears that he’s landed at the gates of heaven — though he’s sure his actions today would stop him from getting in. there’s a ringing in his ear as he comes back down but all of his limbs feel heavy, he’s too weak to move.
“f-father satoru?” you whisper innocently, as if your very voice didn’t lead the man to death. “i think our time is up.”
“yeah?” he mumbles in response, the words slipping around on his tongue. “i think… you did good today. you’ll have to come back again next week, to make another confession.”
if only he could see your sick little smile, one might have thought you were the devil. who knows what’ll happen if you’re alone together in a confined space. “if that’s what you need from me, father.” you giggle slyly. “see you next week.”
“see you next week.” gojo repeats.
and just like that, you’ve dragged the poor priest into the corrupted depths of hell.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#satoru gojo smut#jjk smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#angelshubnetwork#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki#✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification#ʚ glasses anon anon’ ɞ
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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
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A Simple (Mis) Understanding
Chapter Two: Numbness & Pain
Daisy
I always used to think it was an exaggeration of how pregnancy is a constant state of exhaustion. But it was a lot of work growing a tiny human. Add in the fact that I'm still working 40 + hours a week and, of course, something is always causing some sort of discomfort or pain.
Swollen feet, back pain, nausea; I can't even find any solace in sleep. The 32 week mark felt so close, yet still so far. Another eight or so weeks of this seems like a drop in the bucket compared to how far along I am, but still. That still another two months. So far away when you want to be done, but still too short compared to everything I still have yet to do.
Another two months to set up a crib and wash her new clothes. Another two months to figure out a name and make decisions that I always envisioned making with a partner. Another two months of struggling to do things like picking up shit off the floor or staying on my feet long enough to make a decent meal.
But right now, I wasn't worried about the two months ahead of me and all the things I still have to do. Right now, I was looking forward to a three day undisturbed weekend. The pain in my feet and sciatica was becoming so bad, I had taken Friday off to see a doctor and spend the rest of the weekend doing nothing, but sitting in my modest little house and watching mind rotting television. I might even indulge in some spicy reading. Heaven knows its been too long.
Or at least, it hasn't been since them. That day in the office, but... that really didn't count. I often wrestled with myself about it. That one time erased any feelings I had for any of them. But I felt a bit pathetic how it now tainted every good memory I had with them. Kyle bringing me something to snack on when he realized I hadn't gone to the mess hall. Price always having a cup of earl grey tea cooling for me first thing in the morning. Two packs of zero calorie sweetner and a bit of honey.
Sweet like you.
I couldn't stand the smell of it now. I blamed it on the hormones. A lot of things made me queasy, but something about the smell of the bergamot, made me sick in a completely different way. A feeling not of nausea, but of... fear. Like the same way a pentagram could summon demons, earl grey could summon mine. As if John Price was somehow there any time the scent lingered in the air.
But he wasn't. None of them were. Fuck. Why did my thoughts always go back to them at some point? No. This was going to be a relaxing weekend god dammit. Fuck them.
Almost angrily, I hit the garage key fob, shutting the door and engulfing me into darkness; a thin line of light leaking through the bottom of the garage door. When I had opened my door, I could at least see a path to my mudroom. I grabbed my purse, ready to go in, when I felt it.
Hundreds of needles. Stabbing and digging into my feet. Not just the soles, but the entire fucking foot the moment I bared any weight on them. I pulled off my flats and it was then I noticed how angry they looked. Red and swollen and all but screaming at me to sit my fat ass back down. I wiggled my toes, trying to get some blood flow. Fuck. Why didn't they hurt while I was driving?
I manage to get onto my feet, using the car door as support. Steading myself until I was ready to take the first step. By the time I had managed to all but crawl inside, ten minutes had passed since my initial arrival time. I got off at 5:00, but usually didn't log off until almost 6:00. Granted, I work from home, but I had run out of a few essentials. Essentials now that were in the boot of my car.
Fuck.
10 minutes won't hurt. Not like there is any thing frozen. Speaking of which, I forgot my ice cream... dammit. I really need to start keeping a list on the fridge. It's hard to remember when pregnancy brain (or stomach) takes over and I slam a container in a single sitting.
Grabbing a pillow from the couch, I went to the kitchen. Which considering the town house, or terraced housing I suppose now, was perfect for a single and expecting Omega it was cozy. Not like the base where going from the common area to the chow hall was about a three minute stroll.
I get down and lay on my back. Carefully maneuvering so my ass rests against the cabinets before I hook the back of my heels unto the counter top so I could rest my feet a bit. Not the most sanitary, but it wasn't like I had guests. It was just me. For now.
It took a few moments to adjust. My back ached against the hardwood, but I could already feel the relief from my feet and legs. It wasn't all that shocking that I was having a hard time with them. I had gained a considerable amount of weight during my pregnancy. When I had brought it up to the OBGYN about possibly cutting back on food, her suggestion was to simply not weigh myself at home. Now when I went in for a visit they made me turn around before taking my weight.
It was hard. I've always had a problem with how I looked and now adding pregnancy then taking away the option to diet and exercise didn't exactly help.
I pulled out my phone and was preparing to open my kindle app when I saw a tiny red bar in the top right corner of my phone. Of course. I get nice and settled and my phone is on 2 fucking percent. Whatever. I tell
Alexa to set an a timer for fifteen minutes and take a little nap. Maybe meditate.
A knock on the door quickly brings any possibility of relaxation to a pause. Margaret next door was dropping off Winnie off early to go to her book club. Margaret was a widow and a recent empty nester. She had spent her life as a mother and a homemaker. When I got custody of Winnie two months ago, she had quickly stepped up in helping me with everything from child rearing to managing my pregnancy.
"Hello, Maggie!" I greeted from the floor. "Hello, Winnie Darling." Winnie had the same sand colored hair as me and bright green eyes. Her face was a shade of red and I could smell her from the entryway. Someone would need a bath today. Fantastic.
"Oh, Dear!" Maggie fussed, setting Winnie down on her feet before coming over to me. "Are you alright?" Winnie didn't bother stopping to hug me like she normally would before making a beeline toward the potty. She usually was a creature of habit, but nature calls I suppose.
"Feet are a bit swollen." I waved off. "Just resting them a bit."
"I don't have to go tonight." She set her bag down. A deep green corduroy shoulder bag that always had just what you needed in it. A wet wipe, hand sanitizer, a spare tissue and even a stain pen when a spill happened at the most inconvenient time. "I'll stay and-"
"Maggie." I said, trying my best to sound at firm, but it was hard with her. No one told Maggie 'no'. "It's alright. Just a bit of water retention. Nothing to fret over." And it wasn't. I could already feel the pain from earlier subside.
"Really, it's no bother." She argued, bending over to unstrap one of her shoes. "It's a bloody stupid book anyway. I just go for the gossip really."
"Maggie." I tried again. "Really." "It's getting close to the due date and I don't want to burn out on me just yet." It was a lie. Even with her greying hair, a deepened laugh line, Maggie didn't burn out. She was one of the few Omegas I had met in my life and she could run circles around any of them, myself included.
The sound of flushing sounded from the bathroom followed by the faucet. She huffed before slipping her shoe back on. "If you insist."
"I do." I encouraged. As much as I loved having Maggie's help, I hated feeling like a burden. She had raised her children. It was time for her to do things for herself. "Besides, we'll see you tomorrow after my appointment tomorrow." The bathroom door clicked open, revealing my little Win with the front of her smock covered in water. Fantastic.
"Hi, Mommy." Winnie finally greeted. Her freshly washed hands dripping water droplets onto the hardwood. "What are you doing?"
"My feet hurt so I'm just letting them rest." I explained, looking up at her. Winnie was rambunctious as most four-year-olds without a sense of self preservation are, but when I explained to her how careful she had to be now that I had her sister in my belly, her nature had become more gentle.
It worried me as much as it warmed my heart.
"Why don't you sit on the couch?" She asked. Her head tilting to the side, face etched as if she were trying to figure out my reasoning.
"Because it helps when you lift your feet up high in the sky, Winnie Pooh." Maggie explained before looking back at me. "Well if you're sure-"
"I am. Go." I urged. "We'll see you tomorrow. Lunch around noon?" Spending time with Maggie didn't make me feel like such a parasite when I knew she enjoyed the company. Her children had all moved away, only one staying in the UK. She wasn't so alone, but neither was I.
"Wouldn't miss it." She gave a soft smile. The laugh lines around her face deepening. "See you tomorrow, Dearies." She said, retreating back outside. The soft sound of the door clicking behind her.
Winnie had laid down beside me. Yep. Definitely going to need a bath tonight. "How was school today?" Winnie went to a pre-school that was luckily covered under my insurance. Perks of being an Omega. I'll take it where and when I can.
She talked about going to the playground and painting. All the usual bits. Who she played with and new things she learned. Then came the question. A question she had asked before in passing. A subject I changed with ease before. 'Have you brushed your teeth? How about another episode of Bluey? Put on your trainers (because we can't just say tennis shoes anymore) and we'll go for a walk to the park. I had skirted around the question with ease.
"Why don't you have a mate if you have a baby?" Winnie was too young to get the answers to a lot of life's difficult questions. Why did Tiffany not like us? Why didn't she get to see her daddy anymore? Why did that man look at you weird on the train, mommy? I wish she would just stay this little. That she never needed or want to know the harsh truths about me, us.
"I..." I wracked my brain for an answer and just came up short. I couldn't think of a way to sugarcoat it. We almost had a mate. Mates. We almost had a pack that would have walked you to school on the mornings my feet were too sore or I was already running late. They would have loved you. "It... it's complicated, Darling." Is what I chose instead. The other worrisome fact is that Winnie was too young to understand the concept about mates. I had never broached the subject which only means she probably heard it from some little shithead at school.
Wonderful.
"I'll explain it when you're older." I promise, closing my eyes and letting her snuggle into the crook of my arm. "Do you wanna rest your eyes with me?"
"Like when I'm five?" She asks putting one of her hands underneath my shirt onto my belly. It had become a thing she had started since I told her about the baby.
"Maybe six." I said, looking down at her. She gave a yawn before closing her eyes.
"I think five is better."
"Okay, Win." I said. "When you're five we'll talk about it." It was a promise I hoped she would forget. But I didn't want to negotiate with a four-year-old about something future me could deal with. I wanted just 15 minutes of this. I order Alexa to set a timer to make sure we haven't dozed too far off. Winnie still needed to shower and eat. I still needed to get the groceries out of the car. But I could spare another 15 minutes.
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Cure. | N. Romanoff
Natasha Romanoff x Younger!Reader
MINORS DNI!!! (18+!)
Summary: You got infected with the sex pollen and a red haired ..acquaintance offers to help you.
warnings: Age gap (N=32 | r= 20), Masturbation, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), strap on (r receiving)
Word count: 2,1k
A/N: Here's part from my ongoing fic ( I hate you! ) that I'm continuing and wanted to share!! :v Please have in mind that English is not my first language <33
As usual, you were lost in thoughts and again didn't notice where your head was taking you. Until you stood in front of Bruce's lab. You were about to go on, when something grabbed you. So you look around and finally go inside.
It was large and very plain. Also, of course white..what does that color always have to do with it? "Hey, Y/N, can I help you with something?" Bruce's voice startled you "No..Just curious." Bruce smiled and continued to play with a device in his hand. As he went back to his work, you continue to look around. You have to admit Bruce is pretty darn organizational and everything has a label, its own container and so on. Except...this one certain piece. It had a sort of orange glow to it and yes that only attracted curious people like you, "Hey Bruce what's this?" You touch it and when you see Bruce face, "O-Oh, don't!" a pulling stench came from the jar, and you drop it and with your luck you stand right in the cloud of the smell. You cough a few times and step aside, "What the hell is that!" Bruce slowly walked up to you, "Oh god..Uhm..How are you..feeling?"
How should you be feeling? You stink to no end now, "Other than the smell, fine. Why?" Bruce holds his hand over his mouth, and you see him thinking. "Bruce, what's going on? What is that thing I inhaled!" Are you going to die? Is that how you're going to die?! He kept coming at you, "I'm so sorry. I-"
"Now tell me what's going on, Bruce, or I'll..."
"You've been infected with sex pollen!" he interrupted you, looking deep into your eyes. However, you only understood the word sex and infected, "W-WHAT?! What does that mean, infected? With what, a-and how long is this going to last now?" You should have stayed in bed...
And you were now. Just with a bit of a shocked face. Bruce explained to you exactly what it means to be infected with it and your head stopped. You asked how you could get rid of it, and Bruce had to stifle a laugh. And now here you are...sweaty, hot and...horny. You had been trying for several minutes, but you couldn't get it off. Is it hormones, or why could you start crying at any time? You're so damn needy, you couldn't think straight,
"My door is always open for that... to talk, I mean, for other things, too."
Your eyes widened. Hell no. No, no, no..She's the last person you would ask for something like that! Bruce must have made a mistake, this will go away on its own..So you lay down on your side and try to sleep. But after many hours, from turning over, to throwing the pillow away, you couldn't. You look at your air conditioner and whimper as you see it set to max. Eventually you give up on it and get up to go to the kitchen. You need ice cubes, liters of water, and Natasha.
Wait what?
When you get to the kitchen, you see how she also just made herself something to eat. You curse inside and go to the fridge anyway, "Hey..." Fuck, now your body is going into high gear again. "H-Hi..." What the fuck was that!!! Why do you sound so- "Are you okay?"
Just getting the water, just getting the water!
"You're really bad at lying, that needs to be mentioned." She calmly continues eating her food, "So what's the deal." Why does her voice have so much inpact on your body? You're thinking desperately, and you just couldn't take it anymore, "Bruce has some sex pollen in his fucking lab for fuck's sake and I inhaled that shit, okay?!" Don't be embarrassed. She's a woman, and you're a woman, so what could go wrong?
"I can help you with that if you want..." If you had drunk your water, it would be on the floor now, "What?" You misheard. Natasha set her bowl aside and leaned forward further, "Believe me when I tell you that it will only go away if a second person helps you with it. I speak from experience..." She tries to smile slightly, but knew how that must sound, "W-Who helped you?"
"It doesn't matter, so?"
You blink several times, "N-No..No! That- We can't do that! I'll do it-"
"I don't want to force you Y/n, but you're just getting started. You don't want to get to the end of the line, really." You keep looking at her. She really means it..No!
You grab your stuff and walk past her. Once in the room, you walked a bit, but the more you thought about it, the worse it got. Your tingling in your stomach is killing you and the heat even further down..Your fingers moved back down, started rubbing your clit. Your other hand reached for your breast, and you start stimulating your nipple as well. "F-Fuck..." You rub your knuckles more against your clit, circular motions sending you into spasms. Your legs start twitching, and you keep trying to concentrate until all the sensation disappeared. You start whimpering and trying to fight it, but it was no use. You were back to zero.
You had tried two more times, but instead of it getting better, it got so much worse that you couldn't take it anymore. So you get up and go over to the one who gave you the offer. You knock and a little later she opened up and grinned at you, "told you."
"Shut up and now help me, please..." She opens the door further and you go inside. You look around and then turn to her, "So..How do-"
Natasha was on you like a gazelle. She attacked your neck immediately, and you had to laugh. She can definitely save the foreplay, "Please fuck me now!" She continued a few more kisses on your neck until she looked at you, "Wow, where do you get words like that, huh, little girl? But before. I need you to answer one thing for me,“ The look she had and how she looked down at you gave your confirmation again that it wasn't a mistake to come here, fuck you could already feel it... "Is this your first time?" You were already expecting that, "No." She looks deeply at you to check for a lie, but when she found nothing, "Don't worry about your problem," She put a hand on your chest and pushes you backwards to her bed. As you lay on it, she climbs over you, "Besides..the best part are not finished in a hurry." She goes back to your neck and helps you take off your shirt. When that was finally on the floor, she wandered down,
Your shoulder, your chest, your belly, everything she touched with her mouth and the heat you already had got worse and worse, "P-Please, do something..." You had waited enough today..She kept looking at you until finally She squatted in front of where you needed Her the most. Between your legs.
She didn't hesitate long and directly started making circular movements with her tongue. The sensation made you spasm right away, and you comply with her movements, "You're doing great..." Fuck, who is doing the best here?! Sex with dirty talk? 10/10! That Natasha was strong, you already knew, but when she turned you completely around in one movement was new. Or your head was already so fucked that you could no longer think. Now that you were lying on your stomach, Natasha had a much better angle and didn't take long to fill you with her fingers.
You couldn't help but moan into the pillow beneath you. This must have triggered something in Natasha as she suddenly climbed onto the bed, reached under your belly and leaned into you, "Don't hide those beautiful noises from me... "A-Ah! F-fuck!" It was too much at once, and you try to hold on somewhere, but you found nothing but her arm. Natasha grunt as she felt your nails in her wrist and that propelled her forward. She went in deeper and managed to put her thumb on your clit as well.
The only thing that held you now was Natasha. That was also the only thing you could think about, "I feel it getting tighter..." The way she whispered that in your ear made you finish and let out everything you had. She helped you ride out the orgasm and then gently laid you down on the pillows. You were trying to catch your breath when you noticed Natasha getting up and leaving. You were already getting ready to leave, but a little later she came back with a strap in her hand, "Is that okay if I take you with this?" You look at her blurry, "Fuck..hell yes.."
She clicked her tongue and pulled out to put the strap on. When She was done, She came over you again. To your surprise, She took your face and turned it towards Her to give you a kiss. She probably took that as a distraction, since she was filling you with her cock at the same time. You moaned into her, and she swallowed most of your sounds, but when she hit a certain spot, you throw your head back. "Found it, hmm?" You were afraid she would stop, so you started nodding vigorously, "Yes, Yes! Right there, please!" Natasha leaned up and turned you around again, holding your hips to get a better grip. She then rammed into you like an animal and the bed started pounding against the wall,
"Th-This..Feels, Ahh!" All that could be heard in the room was your moans and the thud of your skin, and Natasha couldn't get enough. She turned you again and bent your whole body towards her, making you see stars, "So deep~“
"Yeah? Am I making you feel good, huh?" She grabbed one of your breasts and started massaging your nipples, making you twitch, "W-Wait, that's too-" you were cut off as Natasha gave you a certain thrust and ramming into you faster. She was about to finish and so were you, "I-I will!!!"
"Come on..Fuck, go ahead.." Natasha's thrusts became more uncontrolled, and she just rammed into you out of desperation until it clicked, and you moaned her name. This also brought Natasha into her orgasm and she collapsed all over you. She held herself up on her shoulders to look at you and shit, does she love that look you have on your face. "Wow, you really needed that..“Her tone was soft, and you close your eyes to keep that serene feeling, "You have..yeah..no idea..thanks..."
"Wait here." She rolled to the side to get up from the bed. You just thought to yourself 'I have nowhere to go right now anyway' but you let it stick. She was gone for a while until she came back with a fresh towel and a glass of water. She sat down at the edge and gave you the water. You thanked her and took it,
"So..." Natasha was the first to say anything again after a few minutes of silence, "Are you feeling better?" You knew she was asking it to get the mood back up. You couldn't hide the grin anymore, "Yeah..thanks again..I'll owe you."
"No you don't." Even Natasha noticed that this statement came way too fast. She continues to look at you and stands up again. You thought that was it and that it was the sign to go, but as you were about to get up as well, she came back with bedding, "Where are you going?" You were confused, "Um..I thought I was supposed to go?" Natasha rolled her eyes and put the bed stuff on her bed, "Ever heard of aftercare? And I hardly think you can walk two feet in this condition..." She's right...again.
#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha smut#natasha romanov x reader#nat x reader#natasha romanov smut#dom!natasha x reader#natasha romonova#the avengers#natasha
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Ruin [Marc Spector x fem!Reader] (Moon Knight)
It surely wasn't like him to invite someone over to his place, especially someone he barely even knew. It was dumb and reckless and-
Word count: 840
Warnings: sex is heavily implied and anticipation and sexual tension are through the roof. no real smut tho sorry it’s just a tiny lil’ scene. rare occurrence of me using third person (i dont vibe w it but this is kinda like marc’s pov so)
Marc felt like a hormonal teenager as he tried to unlock the door to the apartment with some fair difficulty, which could be blamed on his eagerness. Or his nervousness. Probably both.
His hand was slightly trembling and for fucks sake, if it weren't the only key Steven carried with him, he would have swore it was the wrong one.
He closed his eyes and inhaled, a stupid attempt to calm himself down.
How pathetic. What an embarrassment.
"Shit, sorry.”
She laughed at his frustration, but not the kind of laugh that silently calls you pathetic. Not a laugh that was aimed at him, Marc, the person, but at the situation.
"Are you sure this is your place?" She questioned, humor obvious in her words.
"Very funny." He finally managed to insert the key right, twisting it and successfully unlocking the door. "See?"
She put her hands up in surrender, and Marc found himself smiling at the action. How cut- pathetic. What the fuck was even going on with him tonight?
It's been a while. That's probably it.
He pushed the doorknob and opened the door to the place, turning the lights on before entering. She followed suit, closing the door behind her.
She stared at him for a bit, trying to think of what to do or say now that they were there. "Um so-“
"Are you nervous?" Marc asked. What he lacked in actual confidence he made up for by faking it.
"What? No I'm not." She was. He could feel it.
"You look nervous."
"I'm not," she insisted.
"Okay." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Then what is it you wanted to do?"
"Me? Last time I checked you're the one who wanted to bring me home."
"I can think of some things I wanna do."
She bit the inside of her cheek, debating with herself over where to go with this. The answer seemed to be ‘fuck it’. “Show me, then."
A glint of mischief made its way to Marc's eyes. He was enjoying this. Shit, they hadn't even done anything yet.
It surely wasn't like him to invite someone over to his place, especially someone he barely even knew. It was dumb and reckless and-
"So?" She challenged him when he didn't make any advances, too lost in thought.
"Shit," He murmured, suddenly too turned on by her attitude to care. He took his time taking a step forward and making the space between them impossibly small.
She actually grinned at him, a determined look on her features. Now that's just fucking begging him to touch her. And then he was sure he was done for. She didn't move, still leaving it for him to do so. Challenging him to.
And so he did.
Marc leaned forward, tilting his head a bit to the side and grabbing each side of her jaw with his hands, pulling her into such a feral kiss that it left her stunned.
"Wow. Okay," she exclaimed quietly after Marc pulled away for a second, both out of breath.
"That okay?"
"Are you serious?" She asked, because, holy shit, it was more than fucking okay. Before he could say anything in reply, she was pulling him down by the collar of his red button up and kissing him again, with the same eagerness as before.
He smirked into the kiss, content with the reaction he received, her hands still firmly holding a fistful of his shirt while his went to her waist, squeezing slightly.
She released his shirt in favor of running her right hand slowly over his chest.
Marc pulled away again, and she didn't even have time to utter a word before he was grabbing her hand. "Come ‘ere.”
She followed him to the desk in the middle of the place. If she got asked how many books you thought there were on it, she would have probably guessed about a million. That sounded about right.
Marc seemed to be pondering something as he looked at them. 'Aw, Steven will survive.'
With that thought, he didn't waste a single second more before clearing the desk, throwing everything that was on it to the floor in a swift motion.
"You didn't have to do that-" she began telling him, knowing that would be a pain in the ass to organize later.
"But I really wanted to."
"Shit." Shit, indeed.
With that, she let him help her up on the desk, occupying the space the books once did, her legs hanging in the air.
Marc's hands traveled to her thighs, the feeling of it making her shiver. He parted her legs slowly, situating his own body between them.
Things stayed like that for a few moments: Marc's hands heavy on her thighs, her hands on his biceps, eye contact unbroken, hungry looks in their eyes.
Marc made then and there a silent promise to himself to try his best to stay awake. He wanted to be there to see her ruined in the morning.
He failed.
A/N: don’t hate me for how short and uneventful it is it’s the opening scene from a fic im abandoning lol I’ll do some actual smut for them another time
#moon knight x reader#moon knight imagine#moon knight#marvel moon knight#marc spector x reader#marc spector imagine#marc spector#Steven grant#mars writes#marvel#marvel imagine
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Bachelors + The Farmer is their Bisexual Awakening
Alex
-- He's not antigay but he's not very Aware of things, i don't think he's ever put much thought into men being attracted to men
-- So when the Farmer moves to town and Alex keeps looking for him while he's outside, its because the guy likes throwing the ball around and Alex hasn't had anyone to pal around with like this in ages
-- Of course he thinks the Farmer is handsome objectively, that's just common sense. That doesn't mean anything
-- It finally strikes him that he's not entirely into girls in the summer, when the Farmer plays ball with him but gets overheated and takes his shirt off and suddenly Alex doesn't know how to catch for shit. He can't pull his eyes away and finally understands why girls got so giggly talking to him after practice.
-- Slowly he realizes he likes talking to the Farmer, too, not just paling around. He doesn't mind him learning personal stuff, and likes learning about him, too.
-- One night they're sitting by the beach just talking, and the Farmer smiles and Alex realizes he wants to kiss him
-- He talks to Haley about it the next day, confused as hell. She's exasperated it somehow comes down to her, but tells him he's fine and it's alright to be attracted to the Farmer. There may or may not be Feelings about that, but he isn't weird or anything for how he's feeling towards a dude.
-- Alex tries to put it away. He's happy enough as friends. But one day they end up play wrestling, and the Farmer's face is right there, and he's blushing so much but can't stop staring at his lips. The Farmer stops wrestling and looks at him softly and asks if it's okay to kiss him
-- The next day Alex gives him a bouquet, made with help from Grannie Evelyn. His grandparents, particularly Evelyn, were very happy for the development. They want Alex to be happy. And he is very, very happy with the Farmer.
Elliott
-- There's no way this man hasn't kissed other men before, he simply has. In college, at parties, whathaveyou. He's kissed men. But he's never dated them. They were always just lips to kiss when he was drunk and feeling extra loving.
-- But then the Farmer comes to town. He thinks nothing of it at first, but the more time the Farmer spends with him, the more fascinated with him he is.
-- it isn't long until he looks forward to the Farmer's visits, anticipating seeing his smiling face and hearing about how the farm is going. The Farmer becomes is main source of inspiration, and he wants to know everything about him.
-- When the Farmer lets slip that he does things specifically for Elliott, like planting a pomegranate tree or putting out crab pots, he feels his heart race and his face grow red.
-- When the Farmer mentions he saw bouquets at Pierre's, it's the sudden panic Elliott feels that makes him realize how deep he's fallen. He's worried the Farmer is going to offer his affections to someone else, and his heart aches at the thought.
-- Leah laughs at him when he tells her later, because his crush has been obvious for a while, but so has the Farmer's. Elliott refuses to believe it, but the next day the Farmer shows up with flowers and sweetly asks if Elliott might be interested in dating
-- Elliott fucking swoons. He preserves the flowers. He is deeply flattered that the Farmer feels the same.
-- The amount of poetry he writes about the Farmer is off the charts. It only increases when he develops romantic feelings. It becomes a whole book when they get together.
Sam
-- He's had fleeting infatuations on a couple of guys, usually dudes in bigger bands, but nothing serious. He figures it's more of a hormone thing than anything.
-- Then he plays a demo for the Farmer and they're so excited about it, hype it up so much. His heart starts beating so fast when the Farmer says he thinks Sam is so cool.
-- He's never felt cool in his life. Girls have thought he was cute, but Sebastian always had that dark and broody thing so he caught more attention. The compliment lives in his head forever after that.
-- He wants to keep the Farmer thinking he's cool, so he starts trying to do skateboarding tricks in front of him and tries harder at pool, rewarded with bright grins and smiles that he can't get enough of.
-- He isn't sure when he realizes he likes the Farmer as more than a friend, but one Friday night at the Saloon Farmer is laughing at one of his jokes until he snorts and Sam wants to kiss him senseless. He wants to hear that laugh forever
-- Abigail and Sebastian bully the crap out of him over taking so long to realize his feelings but also wingman for him so hard.
-- He surprises the Farmer with a bouquet, and asks if its okay for him to feel the way he does about him. The Farmer accepts by kissing his cheek, which makes Sam's brain stop working for a few seconds
Sebastian
-- His crushes on guys have mostly been on fictional characters, so he isn't prepared for a crush on a real guy. He's barely had crushes at all.
-- It's such a slow burn. He isn't ready to fall in love with anyone. He doesn't particularly want to. He wants to head out to the city, not settle down
-- But the Farmer worms his way in. He times his visits so he doesn't interrupt his work, brings him little things he likes. Just makes him feel respected and seen.
-- and sure, Sebastian notices he's handsome early on, but it doesn't mean anything at first.
-- but the soft look the Farmer gives him when he opens up a little bit about his past, the looks the Farmer gives him so often. He likes being looked at that way, like he's something special to treasure.
-- at some point he's working on the bike and finds that he doesn't want to run away anymore. Somehow, the Valley feels like home again. And when the Farmer comes up to see what he's doing, his heart leaps to his throat. He gets that special look and knows the Farmer is his feeling of home.
-- he still wont admit to it for a while. Male or female, he isn't very good at expressing his feelings, and he's scared. What if the Farmer doesn't feel the same way? And what does it mean that he's ready to give up on the city, just for this guy?
-- he gets a little distant after he realizes he's caught more feelings than he meant to. He's always reacted to things he wants by pushing them away, and this is no different.
-- it isn't until he realizes the Farmer's hurt by his distance that he realizes he can't keep doing that. He has to face his feelings.
-- He finally admits to the Farmer that he's important to him, and he never wants to let him go. That he wants to have the Farmer in his life every day, and wants to make the Farmer happy in turn.
-- He finally relaxes when the Farmer wraps him in a tight hold, and knows he wont give him up for anything.
Harvey
-- He doesn't have much interest in the Farmer at first. Not in that way. He thinks the Farmer is nice and all, but he doesn't feel any way about it.
-- After a while, though, he starts to take notice. The townsfolk talk about the Farmer's kindness. That's what initially gets his attention. How much the Farmer does for everyone, meeting every request and giving out their crops to everyone.
-- Pretty soon, the Farmer is stopping by a couple of times a week, bringing him fresh brewed coffee or a new batch of pickles. He's excited to try the new flavors and vegetables the Farmer tries out.
-- He starts getting worried every time the Farmer is admitted to the Clinic, even if it's never very serious.
-- During the Farmer's check up, his heart beat is very high. Harvey is concerned until he really looks at his face, his pink cheeks and inability to meet Harvey's eye, his shy smile as he says he's nervous.
-- ohnohescute.exe
-- The thought that the Farmer could be flustered over him makes HIM flustered. The Farmer is gorgeous! How could he be flustered over the likes of Harvey.
-- He can't stop noticing him after that, how bright his eyes are when someone likes his gift, his big smile as he listens to Maru talk about her projects.
-- When the Farmer watches the plane fly by that Harvey had just managed to speak to, he's hyperaware of his body. How warm he is, and how easy it would be to take a hold of his hand.
--Harvey is shy, but he finds he wants to take the leap. If he's going to go for it, he wants to be romantic and sweet. So he orders the hot air balloon, deciding to conquer his fear of heights and rejection at the same time
-- When the Farmer holds him close, he knows he's fully in love. He never pictures that it would be with another man, but he's in love either way.
Shane
-- He's checked out dudes before, but never thought he would be another dude's type. So he's never really had romantic feelings towards another guy.
--The Farmer just annoys him at first. Sure, he's pretty, but who cares. He wants to be left in misery alone.
-- The Farmer doesn't give up on him, though. He sticks to Shane's side like a bramble and refuses to give up on him.
-- It's just close friendship at first. He doesn't expect to have his heart in his throat the first time he sees the Farmer shirtless out on the beach. His mouth is dry and he can't stop staring. It isn't the first time he realizes the Farmer is attractive, but it IS the first time he realizes he's attracted to the farmer.
-- But it isn't until he's sobered up that the feelings go deeper.
-- Part of him figured the Farmer was helping him as some sort of project, that once he was doing well, the Farmer would go find someone better to hang out with all the time. Someone to date.
-- He doesn't like the jealous feeling he gets when he sees the Farmer smiling with other people. It's something he works on. He wants the Farmer to have other friends! It's just... maybe he doesn't want the Farmer to get snapped up by someone else. Clearly, everyone has to know how great the guy is. How he wasn't already locked down was a mystery
-- Still, even though he's starting to have feelings, he doesn't expect the Farmer to think of him as anything more than a friend. So he invites him to the gridball game as friends.
-- He gets too excited though, that's why he kisses the Farmer when the Tunnelers win. He tries to walk it back and save face, but now the Farmer is the one kissing him. He never thought Shane would be into the likes of him
-- its idiots in love, your honor
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Crossing the Line | Part 2
For Eddie Munson, it started with a tweet. A random little tweet in his mentions that ignited his incredibly hard to control impulsive curiosity. One of his long-time followers and his best friends little brother, a boy with a love of DnD who only begrudgingly followed him after he recorded one of his campaign sessions and posted it to YouTube, pinged him a mention with a single link in it to Instagram captioned “roast him he’s ruined Crazy Train!”
Michael Wheeler you little shit. He’d get Nancy on that one, Mike’s obsession with roasting people was getting mildly out of hand.
But Eddie was a curious soul and someone had apparently ruined an Ozzy masterpiece, so of course he followed that link, he didn’t even hesitate, even let out a cute little “boop” out loud as he clicked it.
Now. Eddie Munson, could have probably been classed as a bit of a music snob. He wouldn’t go too far with his snobbery, but for some people... it was just an unwritten rule that some people deserved the snobbery to the max. They deserved the shit storm that came with Eddie’s brutal honesty and lack of verbal filter.
And Nepo-babies with nothing better to do than *fix* legendary metal tracks with their top 10 bubblegum bitch bullshittery were 100% deserving of the roasting his bitchiest of little sheep had called for.
Did he go a little overboard over the following week while bored shitless in between customers at his shitty non-chain coffee shop gig? Absolutely. Did he feel bad? Absolutely not. It’d taken him all of five minutes to decide Steve Harrington was the worst.
Even if the nepo baby thing wasn’t enough, he was spotted with a different piece of arm candy every month, he had girls and guys falling all over themselves to get a glimpse from him in their general direction, like, there were articles about fights breaking out in the audience of his shows because fans couldn’t decide which one of them he looked at. He lived in some fancy ass house if his insta photos were anything to go by which no doubt his parents bought for him, he did way too many PR stunts to make it seem like he was a good guy, and while his voice was… okay, it wasn’t bad… passable, it was passable…
It sure as fuck needed to stay in its own goddamn lane.
So, the boredom in between the rare rush thanks to the Starbucks down the street was filled with what could only be described as obsessive online bullying, his ADHD hyper fixated so hard, but no way was he even going to notice it, so Eddie didn’t even feel bad about it. The guy had so many people falling all over themselves in hopes he’d notice them that his measly little insults would probably wind up just buried in the sea of hormones and the occasional desperate “COME TO BRAZIL” hashtag Brazilian flag and several thousand heart emojis.
And just as a fun little topper on the ice cream sundae that was his weeklong bitchfit into the void, a lovely little cherry on top, he covered Crazy Train on his channel. Not just the guitar bits, but he made chords and tabs for the lyrics too, letting his sweetheart sing for him, he never sang on his channel, vocals were just for the band gigs, his channel was primarily game music covers but this one, this one he declared “This is what it’s supposed to sound like” in the intro then rocked it.
Eddie was all about freedom of musical expression, but Steve Harrington could go suck a fat one if he thought he was getting away with ruining a masterpiece with his croony bullshit.
“So” The week after he’d finally put his one sided feud to rest, found one Nancy Wheeler, the instigators older sister sidling up to the counter mid-way through the most boring Sunday shift Eddie had ever worked in his life.
“Wheeleeerr, my sister from the most boring of misters, what can I get you babydoll?” He didn’t even need to ask, and she didn’t actually need to say it, he was already halfway through making her fancy little favourite, a cinnamon hazelnut latte with soy milk knowing she probably only had five minutes before she’d have to bolt again.
“Eddie… why have you spent the better part of a week harassing a celebrity on Instagram?”
“I think you mean an entire week, your little brother released the dogs of war. Aaaand the ADHD told me to do it.” He grabbed one of the little honey buns from the treats display and popped it onto a plate for her “forgive me honey bun?” A pet name AND a treat combined. She rolled her eyes fondly before accepting the free treat. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” There was absolutely a reason, but… honestly he brought whatever was coming to him upon himself. Sort of. She'd stand in his corner if shit got real. “I’ll handle Mike, don’t harass celebrities until you’re actually a celebrity, and even then, don’t harass celebrities.”
“It’s not like he’d notice, let’s be honest he has more fans than there are stars in the sky, all of them, and I do mean all of them, fully up for bearing his children.” Seahorse dads in the house! But also, mpreg too, ass babies unite. “It’s not like some rando having a questionably obsessive and lowkey aggressive meltdown over his ‘I’m bored as shit’ experiment would ever grace his radar.”
“I’m just saying Eddie, you never know who you’re going to reach with your online nonsense, if you ever want to get out of this place, you’re going to have to play nice with people from all walks of life, including nepotism babies.” The bark of laughter that erupted from Eddie Munson would have probably insulted most people, but Nancy had known him for years. He was listening, he was, there were just layers upon layers of automatic reactions to get through before he’d visibly take in what you were saying. “He could be nice, you never know.”
“Oh yeah, his royal highness seems lovely. Did you know people used to call him King Steve?” Seemed like the worst person on the planet masquerading as a semi-decent guy. Eddie wasn’t fooled in the slightest. “Your drink, mademoiselle!” He presented her with a large to-go cup filled with her favourite beverage.
“Don’t you have some odd little moniker on your youtube channel?” She asked behind the lip of her cup, before taking a sip and humming in appreciation. Even if he was a little shit, Eddie could make a mean latte.
“That’s a persona, it’s an online personality! People calling me Kas is different, people just called him that cause of how much ass he got. It’s weird, I bet he started it himself and paid his cronies to use it until it caught on.” That was good, maybe he’d pick his feud back up just to lay that one on him. “Seems very nepo baby of him, y’know? Can’t get a good nickname circling so he’s gotta buy one.”
“Wouldn’t his parents have bought it for him?”
“Ohhhh Wheeler good one! Nice nickname, did your daddy buy it for you? Babe, sugar plum, I love you. Imma write that one down for later.”
“Please don’t.” He was already off, and she caught sight of her smartwatch beeping about some meeting she was close to being late for. “Shoot! Gotta run, no more harassing celebrities!”
“I promise nothing!” Ah well, it probably wasn’t that big of a deal that Steve Harrington’s best friend had DM’d her, probably not a big deal at all, probably meant nothing... probably.
Part 4
#PirateWrites#Ficlet#Steddie#Crossing the Line#Stranger Things AU#WE HAVE A TITLE NOW#best friends Eddie and Nancy whee#i tried doing a tag list it didn't work sorry :(#hope it reaches you those who wanted to be tagged!!
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Or 3 and 7 with our perfect Cold Iceman… can’t choose Shark 🥹
Why choose when I could add both? Sorry for the long wait, I hope you'll like it my sweet little Fox. 💚
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✨Take My Breath Away✨
Summary: Valentine's prompt Flowers (3) and Dancing (7) -- Iceman x Reader
Words: 1.7k
Tags: pure fluff !! Ice being super awkward with feelings. No proof reading.
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From the beginning of your training as the first female pilot to today, hiding your weakness had become a habit. Feeling sick or tired? You would double your efforts and work even more than on a normal day. Feeling depressed? You would reply to the constant teasing with a sharp and confident smile as if you were ready to eat them alive. Especially Hollywood, who you could not put up with. Even when your period cramps were tearing your uterus and the hormones would rattle your nerves, you kept working hard, your face was always hidden behind a mask of total indifference. Maverick and Goose often joked about your frozen demeanor, comparing you to Iceman when it came to expressing emotions. But contrary to Kazansky, no one had given you the choice. The slightest weakness shown could be used against you by the pack of ferocious and macho pilots, whose only wish was to see you fall.
The black tea you had let cool down on the coffee table had stopped smoking. An unpleasant chill ran down your spine, which made you snuggle a bit more in the heavy and warm blanket you wrapped yourself with when you came back to your bedroom. Your fingers reached for the cup’s handle and brought the tea to your lips. The first sip warmed your whole soul. You felt like you had just swallowed a little fragment of sun, which lit up you from the inside. A sigh of relief escaped from your mouth, soon followed by your eyelids slowly closing. Finally, you thought, you could finally rest and forget about Valentine’s. A hot tea, a blanket, and music coming from your radio were all you needed. The sights of pilots gifting flowers and chocolate to girlfriends almost made you sick. Men… They were all the same. You did not always hate Valentine’s Day though. There was a time you could not wait for your boyfriend to come home with the cliché but oh-so-romantic box of chocolates et flowers. Cheesy, but absolutely heartening. You remembered how your expression would suddenly become cheerful at the sight of the handsome soldier with gifts in his hands, waiting for you in the middle of the door’s frame. There were Valentine’s Days with John and now, those without him. You clenched your jaw at such bittersweet memories: you had loved him so much… Until you found him in bed with another woman.
Another sip of tea, another wave of warmth coating your frozen heart with its delicious aroma. It was not particularly late but you decided to go to sleep, after all, it was not like you had a date or something. You had barely got up from the couch when you heard someone knocking at your door. Your brows furrowed for you were not expecting visits. At first, you hesitated: what If you just didn’t answer? Your social battery was so empty that the last thing you wished for was to hold a conversation. Nevertheless, you still dragged your exhausted body to the door and opened it.
“Listen, I’m fucking tired and—“ You cut mid-sentence.
“And?” A calm and cold voice retorted.
You looked up and your eyes were met with freezing blue irises. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was standing fiercely at your door, hands crossed behind his back and his whole posture screaming military discipline. You had expected anyone knocking at your door, anyone except Iceman. The corner of his mouth moved in a quick and faint smirk, betraying his emotions: he was amused by how you reacted to his presence. While you could easily make men shit themselves, Kazansky was the only one who would face you at the slightest inconvenience. He was harsh, he was scary, but he also was the only one who never made inappropriate comments about you. He was difficult to prove, consequently you never knew if he liked you or hated you — or if your presence was just insignificant to him. Coming back to your senses, you took a step back and crossed your arms on your chest.
“What do you want, Kazansky” Your tone was suddenly less impetuous now that Ice was towering over you. He remained silent for a little while, his cerulean eyes observing each trait of your face as if the answer to all his worries was hidden somewhere on your skin. He finally blinked, realizing that he was probably staring at you for too long and that it was awkward.
“Take.” Stern tone. No extra words. Ice was the kind of man who liked going straight to the point. Maybe that was why he handed you the charming bouquet of red roses he had hidden behind his back without utterly the slightest explanation. You opened your eyes wide: he took your breath away as if he had just thrown you a punch right in the guts. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was standing at your door, roses in his hand and they were for you. Blood rushed to your face.
“Are you gonna take them or not?” The tall blonde pilot said, raising an eyebrow. His jaws were moving for he was chewing gum — he always did since he quit smoking.
“Oh, yes!” You shook your head, his attractive voice snatching you from your thoughts, “Yes!” You repeated before taking the flowers from his hands and burying your nose in their delicate petals to sniff at their pleasant scent. It was the first time Ice saw a genuine smile flattering your juicy lips and, to be true, it made him melt. Even though he did not let it show.
“Thank you Ice, this is very nice.” You said, nose still hidden among the red roses.
“Well,” He cleared his throat, not really sure what to do now. Slider told him to take off his shirt and show his abs, but he was not sure about it. Bradshaw and Mitchell would have sung you a ridiculous love song, but doing so was absolutely out of question. And concerning the florist, she only told him to offer the bouquet and wait for his lover to make the first step — but you were not having any peculiar reaction. What did he do wrong?
“See you tomorrow, I guess.”
“Ice?” Raising your face from the bouquet, you offer him a shy smile with glimmering eyes. Your face was dressed in a look you had never given to a pilot since you broke up with John.
“Yes?”
“Come in.” You winked and let him come into your bedroom. Then, you put the red roses in a little flower pot you had brought from your mom’s house. As you took care of the bouquet, the blonde pilot stopped in the middle of the room and looked all around him. To be honest, He believed that a bedroom could tell a lot about someone. For example, his was neat, clean, and completely impersonal. No family pictures, no letters, no plushies, nothing. Sometimes you wondered if Tom Kazansky could be anything else than Iceman. You could not picture him being a father, nor a son, nor a casual man. He was just… Ice.
Yet, a small grin stretched the corner of his lips. He had just spotted the adorable family picture you had on your nightstand, displaying a little Y/N piggybacked by your father. Behind you was standing an impressive Biplane straight from World War I. He knew you came from a family of pilots, but he did not expect your father to own such an incredible machine.
"You look so happy." Ice stated, his voice softer than usual.
"I was. My dad would often take me with him when he flew the Fokker. I think there are my favorite memories of him. He would tell me that, one day, I'll be ready to fly it by myself."
When Iceman noticed the tint of melancholy in your voice, he could not help but gently bring his hesitant fingers to one of your shoulders. He, who was always confident, felt like a shy kid. Even though he already had relationships, they were all one night stands. Which did not help him to understand the mysteries behind social interactions. The unexpected physical contact sent a shiver down your spine -- You never realized how eager you were for him to touch you until today. You both remained silent for a while, Ice gently caressing your shoulder with his thumb as the first notes of Take My Breath Away by Berlin echoed in the room. The blonde pilot took a deep breath and glanced at you, his frost eyes enjoying the sight of your delightful silhouette.
"Hey."
Surprised when he broke the silence, you turned to him with a questioning look on your adorable face. Ice's smile grew bigger, showcasing his perfect white teeth in a surprisingly tender grin. His blue eyes left yours only to fall on your lips, which immediately made your whole body heat up. Why the hell were you reacting like that? Of course, you had always thought Kazansky was a handsome man but not a handsome potential boyfriend. At least, that was the case until he smiled.
"I really love this song." He said, always uttering a sufficient amount of words. Gathering his courage, he wrapped your waist with his strong arms with an indescribable softness. Then, he brought you closer.
"Ice--" You locked yours around his neck, not really knowing what you were doing.
"Shhhh." The way your expression shift when you were surprised sent a jolt of arousal through his body. He let out a long exhale through his nostrils and, with small and slow steps, he pulled you in a slow dance. Your whole being faltered at his touch as well as at his freezing eyes diving into yours. The first hesitant movements were soon swept away by more confidence.
Watching, I keep waiting, still anticipating love
Never hesitating to become the fated ones
Turning and returning to some secret place to hide
Watching in slow motion as you turn to me and sayMy love, take my breath away
You closed your eyes, your head now gently resting on his chest while you were still slowly swirling on the song's rhythm. As the soft melody of his beating heart lulled your broken soul, you finally found peace.
There had been Valentine's days with John and those without. But the more important ones were those you spent with Iceman. Because since winter 86', he would keep bringing you red roses and still make you slow dance with him in the living room each Valentine's Day.
Even after you became Mrs. Y/N Kazansky.
#tom kazansky x reader#tom iceman kazansky#iceman x reader#ice x reader#Top gun fanfic#top gun fic#top gun x reader#iceman x female reader#tom kazansky x female reader#iceman top gun#tom kazansky imagine#iceman kazansky#top gun 86#val kilmer
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Please Do Not Touch
Idol(s): Gaeul [IVE]
Word Count: 4.3k+ words
Content Advisory: Mommy kink, Femdom, Degradation, C-Ring Use
A/N: Add BNS to the list of writers who have returned in the first week of 2023 😀
“Say it. Say my name.”
She’s got you by the balls. That’s her other hand on your throat, constricting. She’s a killer, that one, standing on a step stool to meet your line of sight just so she can enjoy you begging for it. It’s almost hard to take that naked little thing seriously. Oh, but you’ll take her seriously, alright, especially when she’s clamping down just a little tighter with both hands.
She’s got this look in her eyes, fresh, uninitiated, like she’s about to taste blood for the first time. It’s scary how much excitement is in those eyes. There’s a fire burning down that house. Little machinations running rampant like those little piece-of-shit children she swore she’d let you seed her with when she finally walks away from the idol life. Her body will still be nice and tight then is the only thought running through your mind. You’ll blame the oxygen deprivation for such lewd thoughts, but her pert petite breasts pressing against your bare chest surely doesn’t help.
It’s not that hard, really. She only wants one thing, only wants to hear her name. You can give her that much, at the very least. Of course, it’s not what she really wants, but you’ll amuse her just to see how far she’ll go.
“Gaeul.”
That hand she’s got on your balls doesn’t let up. She twists, and you swear if she goes any further, you won’t be able to breed her properly later. But it’s oddly satisfying. The kind of satisfying that’s making your cock just a little harder. It’s all part of the experience, but you didn’t expect it to get this far.
“No. You know my name. Do it right this time, little bitch.”
You’ve created a monster. This isn’t Gaeul. Not anymore. Not while she has you wrapped between her fingers. This isn’t a role she thought she’d play, but she puts in the effort because she’ll do anything to please her man.
She’s got that hand on your throat tightening just ever so slightly again. “Say my name.”
Pride will be the death of you if Gaeul doesn’t kill you first. That’s fine. She’s got you right where she wants. You’ll hold out a little longer because she loves it—the chase, the capture, the kill, everything. And then right as the room turns white, just before you meet your maker, you let her have it.
“Mommy.”
Gaeul finally lets go. She’s stepping down from her stool, she’s getting back on the bed, and she’s watching you, stiff against the wall she had you pinned against. Gaeul’s got her legs crossed, hiding that view that’s already dripping in pleasure. One hand props her upright against the bed while the other flips through her frazzled hair.
“Now was that so hard?” It’s a game to Gaeul. She’s a neophyte but acts like she’s been there countless times before. Knows the rules, knows the limits of your body. It’s as easy as learning choreography for her. “Do you think my naughty boy deserves mommy’s wet pussy?”
Whether or not you deserve it isn’t the question—mommy’s going to get whatever she wants. She’ll get that pussy filled like a jelly donut oozing its contents all over the floor sooner or later. It’s rather a question of how long she’ll drag this out. You’ll play that game, sure, but damn, does she look fine in her birthday suit.
“I said, ‘Do you think my naughty boy deserves mommy’s wet pussy?’”
Gaeul has to repeat herself because you’re too busy breathing her in, letting the oxygen she deprived you of back into your system. This time, she’s slapping that slit, flecks of her fluid visibly jumping onto her thighs. Gaeul knows how much you love it when she makes a show of how wet she is.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” you answer. That’s the hormones finally kicking in. You make a move toward the bed, but she’s got this look again. It’s that I-didn’t-tell-you-to-fucking-move look. It’s that you’re-gonna-have-to work-for-it look. You retreat back to the wall, and she’s expecting you to explain yourself. “Sorry. Yes, mommy.”
Gaeul owns you. She’s got you trained, domesticated, ruled. You’re nothing but a pet to her, a meatbag she uses for sex and nothing else. If not for your cock making her pussy feel things, you’d be out naked in the cold with a sign that reads, “Will fuck for food”. Even then, you wouldn’t put that past Gaeul: she’d do that anyway just because she could.
“Now listen,” Gaeul says. She’s getting off the bed, she’s making her way back toward you, and now she’s tugging at your cock. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Gaeul’s laughing. Without restraint. Without pretense. God, does she know how to make it hurt. You’re in this semi-solid state, good enough to get sucked, but definitely not hard enough to ram Gaeul’s pussy into some higher state of being. So of course mommy Gaeul is laughing: you’re useless to her right now. There’s no way she’s giving you a blowjob. No, that’d be too easy. Besides, Gaeul doesn’t give out mouthfucks, thinks she’s above getting down on her knees and choking on some cock. She’ll give you some lame excuse, like I can’t stand the taste, or you know it messes with my throat and I have to sound good tomorrow. So now she’s leaving you wondering just how much more embarrassment she’ll put you through before she even lets you touch her.
“You think I need a little cock like yours to get off? I’m gonna need more than that.” She lets go and returns back to bed, legs spread, one foot on the mattress and the other dangling over the edge. “You’re gonna stand there and watch me finger myself until you get your cock hard for me. And if I even see you touching yourself, no sex for you tonight. Nod if you understand.”
“But how—”
“Nod if you understand.” It’s only natural to nod. Whatever it takes to slip between Gaeul’s legs later.
It starts with Gaeul licking her petite fingers, the ones she’s decided are going inside her. She doesn’t need to make a show out of it, but she does it anyway for you. Could be because she’s a benevolent mommy or because she loves watching you squirm. Either way, you’re not turning down the free show.
Gaeul’s a pro by now, of course. Been pleasuring herself well before that dick of yours even came into the picture. Like riding a bike for her. She’s got her left hand spreading those lips. There’s that juicy pink inside, rare, already as wet as the Amazon. Had a big heaping helping of her dildo earlier but it’s clear by the way her body shivers at her own touch that she’s definitely up for seconds. She’s got that thumb pressing gently against her clit, rubbing herself in a rhythmic circular motion. She could easily get off with just the clitoral stimulation alone, but she’s got other plans.
Gaeul’s still got those fingers, wet, ready to penetrate. She tickles the exposed pink flesh with the pads of her fingertips, running from the bottom of her slit and working their way up. She’s exploring herself, testing her arousal, waiting for that perfect moment to strike. Not yet. She traces her slit again, down and back up. And again. Keeps repeating it like she’s a maestro orchestrating her fingers in an endless da capo al fine on her pussy, until that tiny hole you’re well-acquainted with finally puckers.
There it is.
You’re watching Gaeul sink her middle finger into her pussy. Then the ring finger disappears as well. She lets out a faint moan, lets herself sink into the bed while she’s fucking herself and lets you enjoy the one-woman performance.
For a second, she pulls her fingers out and brings it to her mouth for a taste, letting it marinate before pulling them out with a gentle pop. “Mmmm,” she moans. It’s no KFC but she swears it’s finger-fucking good. Gaeul drags her fingers down her neck, through her breasts, down her abs, until she finds her way back into her pussy, leaving a trail of saliva behind. She starts pumping again.
Gaeul’s got this nice in and out motion going now, wet squelches with every penetration that’s displacing the fluids dripping out of that well-pleasured pussy. Her chest heaves with every breath she sucks in through gritted teeth.
“This could be you, y’know, fucking mommy’s pussy. But you’re too big of a bitch to even get hard for mommy.”
She’s absolutely going to town on herself now. Gaeul shuts her eyes. She has her back arched, hips swaying to and fro like she’s riding a mechanical bull, those tiny mounds on her chest swaying along with each thrust of her pelvis that she’s throwing into the air.
“Holy shit, you feel so fucking good in me,” she cries out. “Fuck, this body is yours, only yours! Such a good fuck! You fuck me like none of the naughty boys ever could!”
It really is a cruel joke, the way she’s playing with you, teasing you. There’s Gaeul’s naked body in front of you, bucking the same way she does when you’re normally owning that pussy. She knows just how badly you wanna penetrate her, and here she is toying with you, acting like she’s actually getting fucked. You look down and see your cock throbbing just a little harder. It’s still not enough. You just need that little motivation to get rock hard for Gaeul, so you try to grab your cock to stroke along with her while she’s preoccupied with her own pleasure.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” she says with more venom than a king cobra.
It’s eerie the instinct and awareness Gaeul has even with her eyes closed. You’d push further to see if you could get away with it, but she’s already said no to sex this entire week and there’s no way you wanna test her. She can replace you, have another you delivered to her doorstep faster than you can get a finger on your cock right now. Of course she can, she’s an idol. You’re just another guy with a cock that her pussy likes, coming to the immutable conclusion that you need that pussy more than she needs your cock. It’s frustrating. You let out a sigh and ball your hands into tightly clenched fists trying to endure the rush of hormones being wasted on just watching her.
“You want this body? Beg for it,” Gaeul says.
“Please, mommy.”
“What do you want? Use your words, baby boy.” Gaeul slows down, opens her eyes and sees how much harder you are. She’s intrigued, as is evident from that smirk on her face, the way she won’t stop staring at your cock while she’s rubbing herself.
“I wanna fuck you so bad, wanna dump a huge hot load of my cum into your needy little pussy. Please mommy, let me fuck you.”
Gaeul stops pleasuring herself. Here she comes again. You’re not really sure what she’ll do this time, whether she’ll drag you to the bed and let you fuck her mindlessly or kick you out of her room without getting what you came for. She hides her cards behind that Mona Lisa smile so well. Gaeul presses her body against yours. She doesn’t use the stool this time, so she’s looking up at you, her wetness pressing against your thigh, dripping.
“So, my baby boy wants to fuck mommy, is that what you want?” Your hands reach around Gaeul’s waist, hoping to grab those bouncy ass cheeks. It’s automatic for you. You can’t get enough of the way her cheeks sound when you slap them, the way she moans, the way her cheeks jiggle in your grasp before settling in your cradling palms.
She catches you, slaps your hands away before you even have a chance to make contact.
“Uh-uh,” she teases, “no touching. Good boys respect women: no touching unless I give you permission. If you can do that, I’ll let you cum in me. Am I clear?”
“Yes, mommy. No touching.”
“Good.” Gaeul smiles with the satisfactory answer. “As a reward, I’ll let you have a taste,” she says, bringing those two fingers she used on herself to your mouth, slowly shoving them between your lips the same way she did between hers. Your needy tongue tickles her digits, licking off your prize for being so obedient until there’s nothing left to savor. It really is finger-fucking good.
Gaeul pulls out her fingers and starts to walk toward the walk-in closet. “Stay right here, mommy’s got a present for you.”
She emerges from the closet after a couple seconds, one hand balled into a fist and the other grasping at a necktie, one of the few garments you keep at her place when you stay the night. She swings it over your neck and starts to tie it.
Over. Around and over again. Through the loop. Tighten. A Full Windsor knot. She’s got that shit memorized and perfected.
“Is this the present?” you ask. She’s got you wondering why she’s dressing you up like a formal chippendale with your own tie. This can’t be the present. She’s kept that hand balled into a fist the entire time, whatever she’s got in there must definitely be the present.
Gaeul ignores your question and gives you a command instead. “Turn around, hands on the wall.”
You obey. Gaeul’s got one hand on your hip, the one that’s clenched into a fist. The other hand is wrapping around, playfully running up your thigh with her fingernails, drawing closer to your cock until she’s got your shaft in the palm of her hand. Slowly, so that you can feel the sensation of Gaeul’s sleight of hand, she wraps a finger around the circumference, one at a time. Every finger that joins adds even more tightness, more pressure around your cock until she has a fist wrapped around your shaft, slowly motioning up and down and jerking you off.
“Fuck, Gaeul. Faster, baby.”
She lets go. “What did you just call me? You know that’s not my name.”
“Sorry. Please jerk me off, mommy.” She continues again, giving in to your request to stroke faster. Her other hand joins in on the action, wrapping around your tip.
“That’s it, baby boy, you’re doing so good. Just look how big you’re getting for mommy. Almost big enough to fuck me.” She strokes faster, and you feel the base of your shaft tighten. You’re throbbing in her hands now. Gaeul, happy with the work she’s done, stops stroking. Even with her hands completely off your cock, you feel yourself throbbing harder than usual, like she’s still squeezing you between her hands. You look down and finally notice the cock ring she managed to slip onto you.
“Do you like the present mommy gave you?”
“Yes, mommy. Please, can I fuck you now?” She’s got you right where she wants you, and you’ve got her on the verge of giving you her body. Before she can answer, she grabs you by the end of the necktie, choking you, dragging you and pushing you onto the bed.
Gaeul’s standing at the base of the mattress, watching, waiting for her time to pounce. She’s a killer, that one, tired of the chase, done with the capture. It’s in her eyes: she’s ready for the kill, and you can barely wait for her to sink that delicious pussy onto your shaft that’s throbbing harder than ever in the cock ring she bought you.
She leans forward, placing her hands on each of your thighs for support, lowering herself until her face is right next to your shaft. She grabs hold, slapping herself in the face with your cock.
“Is this what you want?” Gaeul asks.
“No, mommy,” you tell her firmly. Sure, it’ll be a New Year’s resolution fulfilled if she starts sucking your cock now, but you didn’t come this far just to get a blowjob. You want the whole thing: tits bouncing, thighs jiggling, Gaeul screaming your name as you slide in and out of her pussy. So, no, this is not what you want.
Gaeul smiles. There’s a small wince of disappointment in that smile for not falling for her trap, but she slides up again, dragging her naked body up against your cock before resting her breasts on you. It’s not much, but she pushes her chest together, cradling your cock between her soft mounds and stroking you between her breasts.
“How about a titjob? Is that what my good boy wants?”
You know the game she’s playing. By now, it’s clear she’s toying with you in a game of Deal or No Deal, but you know what’s coming as long as you hold out. Most men crumble this late in the game. Some would’ve even taken the blowjob, but you, you’re banking on the end game, and you can see your cock, wedged between Gaeul’s breasts, hungry for something far greater than a titjob. No deal.
“Please, mommy, let me fuck you.”
She slithers further up your chest, dragging your cock against her tummy as she does so. Keeps going until finally, she has her pussy lips grinding against the underside of your shaft. Oh, she’s wet, alright. You can feel her juicy outer lips, splaying, wrapping around either side of your shaft as she drags up and down on you. You try to thrust upward, hoping to penetrate Gaeul, but she’s one step ahead of you and lifts up just enough to drag this out a little longer.
“Not yet, baby boy.”
Gaeul fiddles with the new shiny toy she bought you, and suddenly, it starts to vibrate. It’s a feeling unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.
This is it. The final stop. She’s got that pussy hovering over you, slowly coming back down. Gaeul doesn’t even ask if this is what you want. She knows.
“Don’t forget, no touching.” It’s the final thing she says before she grabs onto your shaft, aligning it with her entrance and slowly sinking onto you. It’s easy sliding into Gaeul’s primed pussy, the way she feels like she’s perfectly molded for taking your cock. But all of that doesn’t compare to Gaeul when she reaches the bottom and experiences the vibrations of the cock ring on her clit.
“Oh, mommy like!”
It’s a new experience for her. She’s had vibrators, dildos, massagers, all types of sex toys pleasuring her before. You’ve seen her collection. But the moment she bottoms out on your cock and her clit touches that vibrating cock ring, something in her turned on, like she finally knew the answer to the question: “What’s after like?” It isn’t love. It isn’t marriage. It’s getting her brains fucked out.
Her thighs jerk, grasping tightly against your hips, and those eyes, you’ve never seen her roll them back like that before. It’s an instant reaction. Gaeul’s arms crumble and she falls on top of you, almost incapacitated.
“Fuck me, baby,” Gaeul commands.
You sink down just a little into the mattress, just enough to pull out of that heavenly body halfway. You thrust back up, driving further into Gaeul. She lets out a moan, primal, without thought. That vibrator hits her right on her clit and she shakes at the hip, grinding on top of you, feeling those vibrations that’s pleasuring her.
Her lips meet your ear, clinging, nibbling. Gaeul grabs onto you and lets out a soft moan, hot and airy. “That’s it, baby. Fuck me just like that. Oh, God!” Even with her lips right on your ear, it’s hard to hear anything she’s saying over the loud thrusts of your cock crashing into Gaeul’s tight pussy.
“You feel so big in me, baby.”
You can feel that too, can feel yourself throbbing in her with each pump, the pleasure heightened for both of you with her present wrapped around the base of your cock. You didn’t think you’d enjoy it but it’s everything. Gaeul is muttering various swear words into your ear; you’ve never heard her swear this much in your life.
“Holy fuck! So good! Fuck me harder, baby!”
It’s pretty useless without your hands, though. There’s only so much you can thrust into her with just your hips. It feels good now, but you’d enjoy it more if you could grab her and fuck her properly.
At the risk of getting punished, you throw caution to the wind and grab her. One hand wraps around her back, hugging her tight. The other finally gets a handful of Gaeul’s ass, bouncing up and down in your hand with each thrust.
“That’s it baby, fuck!” she moans into your ear. She’s too inebriated with lust to care that you’re touching her, too lost in a stupor to keep up the mommy gimmick. This is Gaeul, raw, untamed, just the way you like her.
She is grabbing tighter onto you, an unspoken sign to fuck her harder. That’s her chest pressing against yours in the fervent fucking, her nipples hardening as the collective sweat bonds you together. You’ve got her in your grasp, and you’re really putting all that force into your thrusts. She is moaning harder than she’s ever had before, her quivering moans growing louder and louder like an oncoming train. Her bandmates will hate her later for the noise, but right now, you don’t care. All you care about is cumming in Gaeul’s needy little pussy.
“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m gonna cum!”
Gaeul tightens around you. You can feel her slick, trickling down your cock, sullying the sheets below. Her nails dig into your shoulders. Her body trembles in your grasp, going stiff through her orgasm until she goes limp on top of you. You tug on her hair to pull her up and check on her, and Gaeul’s eyes are in a daze, her mouth unable to close from the pleasure she just experienced.
“You okay?” you ask.
“Fuck that was so good.” Her eyes open, determined. She’s got that look in her eyes again, embers burning in her loins. She lifts up off your chest, her pussy still clenching around your cock. “Tell me when you’re gonna cum, okay?”
You start it up again. You’ve got your hands on her hips, bouncing her up and down on your cock. Gaeul’s a mess, but she keeps going for you, wanting that cum, giving you the one thing she promised earlier.
“Come on, baby, cum for me. Cum for mommy.”
The amount of sweat on her body is a testament to just how much she’s enjoying herself, tits bouncing, breathing labored. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your cock almost becoming numb to Gaeul’s pussy and the cock ring stimulating your pleasure.
“I’m so fucking close, baby.” Gaeul grabs onto your hands, interlacing her fingers with yours. You can tell she wants this as badly as you do, encouraging you, goading you on. She even grinds on top of you, wiggling that cute little ass on your thighs. There’s that sensation, you can feel it now. “Shit, I’m cumming!”
You thrust upward one last time, attempting to bury yourself into the depths of Gaeul’s folds, but she pulls your hands off her waist and pulls off.
“What the fuck, babe?” you ask in the craziness.
It’s too late now. She’s got your hands pinned to your sides, her petite body on your stomach so that you can’t escape. Gaeul’s shaking her head with the most villainous, evil smile and she’s watching you, defeated, shooting thick spurts of cum everywhere except inside her. When it’s over, you let out one final sigh of relief, rapture, frustration, indignance.
Gaeul is sliding off to the side, falling chest first next to you on the bed. Her back is painted in white that’s oozing off to the sides and the small of her back. It’s not exactly where you want to see it dripping, but it’s still satisfying if not a tiny bit disappointing.
“I told you I’d only let you cum in me if you didn’t touch me. You should’ve listened, babe.” Gaeul’s laughing. Without restraint. Without pretense. But at least it’s over now and she’s no longer so enamored in the roleplay. She collapses back onto the mattress, planting a kiss on your cheek and wrapping her arm over your torso.
She’s got this look in her eyes, dazed, intoxicated, like she just had the best cock of her life. It’s satisfying how much satisfaction is in those eyes. The fire’s been put out in that house. Little machinations finally fulfilled, kissed and tucked into bed. You’re not sure how Gaeul managed to make sex even better, but you’re glad she did.
See, she’s never been a dom before. Absolutely hated the idea. How can you hate something you’ve never tried? It’ll be great, just try it, you’ve told her countless times before. You pleaded and begged until that little piece of ass you call your girlfriend finally said, fuck it, why not. You never thought she’d be such a natural at it.
“So, how was that for you, babe?” you ask Gaeul. Her shoulder is shining in a waxy layer of your lip balm when you kiss her there. She reacts with a little giggle, traces circles with her fingertip on your chest, and lets out a huge sigh of relief.
“That was…” She pauses. The word escapes her. Gaeul’s expression turns quizzical. She’s running through the list of words to perfectly describe the feeling that overtook her. You can see those wheels spinning. Amazing? Fantastic? Mind-blowing? She’ll exhaust her internal thesaurus with how long she’s taking. The wheels keep spinning and spinning, until finally, the lights turn on in that house.
“That was…what?” you ask.
A smile registers on that precious face. She brushes her hair behind one ear and leans in for a kiss, her lips still laced in ecstasy.
“That was…definitely not the last time we’re doing that.”
A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm hoping you'll see more of me in 2023 compared to the second half of 2022!
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I came here to ask for Rockstar! Cove rambles and saw the Rockstar! Baxter art you reblogged omfg it's so good.
Please can we get some of your Rockstar! Cove (and/or Baxter if you feel like it) rambles 🙏
(Hope your holiday has been great 💖)
this is more. rockstar!cove backstory but YKW ITS FINE BC ITS BEEN WHATS ON MY MIND LATELY
we'll have to talk abt him again bc this post was getting LONG especially w baxterrr
tags : SFW, headcanons, step 2-4, rockstar au, so ooc, bullying mentioned, fighting, baxter's tags are below before his hc's
listen....
im ngl. i want him to be maybe a little toxic. a lil crazy.
or into things he's not canonically into/does often
at least he's rough n impulsive at first
whenever he can get away with it, and before he got famous, he loves taking a long ride on his motorcycle
compared to when he was a young teen, he tries not to take drives when he's angry
bc when he was young, he'd put on some music and blast it as loud as it could go, and he'd drive and drive and drive...
ended up with a few warnings and speeding tickets that way because he'd get lost in riding n his thoughts n the music
but now that his life isn't so turbulent, he doesn't do that anymore
i wanna imagine he doesn't grow up with you next door n you didn't know each other until junior year of high school
he sees you n he's sold...
thinks you're so fucking beautiful/handsome and he sees you laughing n smiling w your friends n he's so, so whipped for you
he's still a sweet shy boy, so it takes forever for him to talk to you
n it's terry who introduced you two!!!
he's all flustered, bc you're even more lovely up close
n if you're all bubbly n extroverted, he thinks you're like sunshine
if you're more reserved, he thinks you're very cool or that it's amazing how calm you are all the time
if you're shy/easily flustered, will sometimes (and now that he's grown, always) mention out loud he thinks it's cute when you blush...
either way, just loves your personality n thinks you're amazing n cute
you actually calm him down. you ground him.
he used to get into fights kinda often.
i like to think rockstar!cove got like this bc his parents stayed together longer than they did, n there was no brilliant neighbor to reach out to him
he n his dad were still like oil n water, and the kids at school were less than friendly but usually didn't dare fuck with him
key word is usually.
just had a thought actually... cliff's family living nearby
not his parents. he moved as far as he could
and with him n Kyra on the brink of divorce, her moving out the house, n all cliff has to do to keep them afloat..
he didn't think his equally shitty cousins would be a problem.
but surprise!! they're a few doors down n too happy to "catch up"
cove n cliff avoid them pretty well, n cliff really didn't need to tell cove to avoid his cousins bc he was already 2 steps ahead of him
but his cousins dont get that message, they also think its a good idea to pick on cove...
so between the short patience of most hormonal 13 year olds, his parents (finally) separating, cove's intolerance for bullshit....
cove ends up rocking his 2 cousins shit when they snatch his glasses off his face, bending the frame
ignores his cousins mom yelling at him n cliff to apologize for hurting her kids. feels a bit warm when his dad tells her his son is more well mannered than both her kiss combined, even laughs when he says a rabid raccon has more sense n poise
but is even happier when his dad, after a moment of silence in the car, asks him if be used the right hook he taught him
n tries to hide his smile when his dad ruffles his hair n goes "that's good. good job son."
he does hear the whole, "violence isn't always the answer" and "pick your battles" thing
but he shrugs off the lecture when he and cliff have a tub of ice cream each n cliff holds a bag of peas to his face
anyway.
he fights like a DOG. he arGRHHH HE HAS EVERYTHIGN TAKEN CARE OF. TRUST.
professional at sneaking out n sneaking YOU out
cove at 4am: wanna get mcd's?
dont even bother saying no bc he's already outside
dont pretend to be sleep either bc he FUCKING SEES YOU.
will leave you alone if you genuinely don't wanna fuck around in the middle of the night, but how can you say no to him?
ah. before i forget
Will kiss you if you're bandaging his face
asks you to ice his bruises...
SINGS YOU SONGS N SHIT
kryptonite. creep. p!nk and lady gaga PERIOD. all of it
serenades you with his guitar and/or voice
sometimes he's just fiddling with the strings, switching between cheery beats and trying to rick roll you but the beat is wayyy off
loves when you fall asleep to his music too, plays the sleepiest tune he can think of
you being his biggest supporter is what makes him fight to make a name in the music industry
after supporting him in his personal life, through all his lows and highs, then supporting his music that he was too scared to go for
he puts his best foot forward for his sake and yours
+ TAGS: mention of FWB, toxic baxter <3, so ooc ofc, mm implied partying/drinking
now rockstar baxter....
i want him to be a problem. he's the toxic one here
compared to cove, who is soft n sweet but impulsive and always willing to fight, rough but well meaning...
baxter is your situationship
your friends with benefits
friends if a loose word, since you hardly ever talk since you've met and unless arguing, bickering, or sexting counts as getting to know each other...
than you're best friends!!!
he's the big headed musician who always asks "wyd" and "u up?" whenever he's in town
at least he sends you money to doll up or eat, or whatever before he gets in town
"make sure you eat before i come. bc im not letting you go once i get there"
so.... if you want commitment. he's not it...
just saw *this tweet, and rockstar!baxter IS the type to email you after you block him
omfg. if any of yall have read armin x reader fanfics... yk how he is in those fics? all toxic n shit?
thats baxter.
not THAT bad. like baby trapping bad or cheating on you, manipulating you etc.
but he's bad
definitely the dumb choice you make at 18-20 smth years old n once you mature, you drop him because he doesn't grow up quickly...
he won't even have the realization that you're the one until he's MINIMUM 37-40+ YEARS OLD. AND FLYS UP FROM THE BED LIKE HE'S SEEN A GHOST
curses n curses himself to high hell and low heaven
now depending on how bad he's fucked you over, or you've moved on, etc... he understands if you don't wanna try being together, bc he was a fucking mess
at least, if he sees you catching feelings or himself, he does break it off
but there's still good times between you!!
he sends you things for your birthday
and when he's not on tour showing his ass, he comes to spend it with you
is very happy if you come to spend his birthday with him!!!
starts to look forward to it, but he doesn't really show it
although after the first time, he can't help crying, thought the first time was just a one off thing
unless you make the first one a big thing, than he cries then
even if all you did was get/make a cake and decorate your small apartment, he's so so happy
mm i started thinking abt smth
i don't think he's that bad, impulsive, etc. before his career
before, he's pursuing music because his parents hate it. its "not a useful career" and "embarrassing"
but then he starts to love it, its an outlet for him and then it's become a passion
but once he gets a deal with a record label, it's just a downward spiral
puts everything into music, ignores everything else and doesn't take breaks like he should
i think what breaks your "relationship" is him getting caught up in the darker side of the music industry, and losing himself.
he doesn't laugh or anything like before
doesn't make random trips to see you anymore
in fact, probably ends up flaking on you or suddenly canceling, or going weeks without talking to you
its rough. and you two definitely need time apart for him to grow and realize that this is serving anyone besides the companies pockets well
#our life: beginnings & always#olba#cove holden#cove holden x reader#baxter ward#baxter our life#baxter ward x reader
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Author: Maxine
Pairings: BakuDeku
Rating: R
Chapters: 14/?
Notes: Accidental quirk shenanigans result in an unplanned pregnancy. Post-canon, no a/b/o dynamics.
Summary: It's not that Katsuki didn't want kids. He figured he'd have them one day, probably. That he and Izuku would adopt or maybe figure something else out.
This is NOT how it was supposed to go.
~~~~~
CHAPTER 14
“OI!” Katsuki barks at the rest of the room, even though most of its occupants are already staring at him with arched eyebrows. He swallows as everyone else turns their attention toward him, trying not to fidget in place or do anything that would make him fall. He’s not exactly at his usual level of coordination these days. “Real quick. Uh. I know I was kind of a last-minute addition to the staff roster and maybe some of you are wondering what the hell I’m doing here.”
“Recovering from a thing!” Present Mic shouts, and then gives him a double thumbs up when Katsuki scowls. At his side, Vlad King starts snickering.
“No – goddammit.” Katsuki huffs. “Look, I’ve been off field work for a few weeks and was getting sick of hanging around my agency not doing shit.” He tips his head in Tsuyu’s direction. “Froppy here was nice enough to suggest letting me double up with her and somehow we got Principal Nezu onboard. Probably just taking pity on me, but whatever. I’m gonna be even more of a pain for you people to deal with than I was in school because…” Katsuki cuts both hands in toward his stomach, more or less framing the bulging curve there. “I’m pregnant. Got hit with a Quirk. Shit happened. It’s Deku’s.” He puffs out a breath and jerks forward into a slight bow. “Thanks in advance for putting up with me, I guess.”
“Young Bakugou, please get down,” All Might hisses out in an overly frantic tone, and this time Katsuki does as told. He even accepts the hand the older man holds out to assist him.
“See, now that explains it,” a gruff voice says. Katsuki looks up to find Hound Dog stroking the bottom of his muzzle in a thoughtful sort of way. Most of the rest of the room seems completely unphased – likely a byproduct of having years under their belts as both pro heroes and teachers who’ve mentored hundreds of students with all manner of Quirks.
They’ve all seen some shit, Katsuki realizes, and the bit of tension that had locked up his shoulders abruptly drains away.
This probably isn’t even close to the weirdest thing any of them have dealt with.
“Explains what?” Katsuki asks, somewhat warily.
Hound Dog shrugs. “Your smell.”
“…What?”
“You smell pregnant. It was throwing me off.”
“WHAT?!”
“Maaaan, you’ve gotta share things like that!” Present Mic yells over at Houng Dog. “Spill the tea, share the juice, give me the gossip! How many times do I gotta tell you?!”
“Way too early,” Aizawa grumbles again. He pulls open a drawer of a nearby desk and whips out a yellow sleeping bag that’s seen far better days. “Somebody wake me up when the opening ceremony starts.”
“Shouta, did you know?” Present Mic demands, spinning toward him before Aizawa can fully disappear beneath the desk. “Shouta! HEY. Did you know??”
“Oh man, I’m so glad I signed on this year,” Tokage utters in awe. She looks a little too gleeful, honestly. “This is great.”
Tsuyu nods in agreement. “I wonder if it’s always this eventful.”
“What the fuck does he mean, I smell pregnant,” Katsuki asks, scandalized. “Is that a fucking thing? Do I stink??”
“It’s just his Quirk, Bakugou.” Tsuyu gives him a reassuring pat on the arm. “He probably picked up on the hormonal changes. Don’t worry about it. Want to go over the plans for our first classes?”
Alright, well that’s gross and terrible to know.
Continue reading at AO3.
Through chapter 14 now posted!
#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bakugou katsuki#midoriya izuku#bakudeku#dekubaku#katsudeku#decchan#bkdk#dkbk#mpreg#bnha mpreg#bkdk mpreg#dkbk mpreg#bnha fic#mha fic#bkdk fic#dkbk fic#fic
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dirty words (h.c.) | peter parker
-guys guys ikik
-headcanons
-mine might be chaotic
-but like
-besties i got this
-why is that so small
-oh i figured it out my stupid brain just isn't rn
-wHaT tHe ToMfUcKeRy
-there's a lotta people i can imagine saying that
-um okay anYWays
-lets do this
-okay so
-parker peter's a pre-pubescent boy
-and pre-pubescent boys
-they do
-stuff????
-?????????????/
-peter and ned and mj are just like chilling
-they're doing their thing
-vibin n' shit
-and mj goes
-"peter you're the most innocent shit i've ever met"
-and peter's just downright offended, he's like please i'm so mature and not innocent
-ned's like "nah you're a babey"
-"pffftttt no i'm not"
-...
-who's gonna tell him
-"peter i didn't know you were so awkward about sex" not that one scene-
-anyways
-holy cow i use that word a lot
-cows are cool
-"i can be so dirty i've just never had that moment" he's puffin out his chest and crossin his arms all tryna be intimidating
-"pls be so fr with me rn" neds just cackling
-and now he's got this mindset where he's gotta prove them wrong
-so he goes home that night
-memorizes every dirty joke he can
-preparing to use them all on y/n
-and he goes to school that day
-ready with all his comebacks and shit
-homeboy is deadass prepared
-so you're by your locker, getting school shit out
-and peter's right there by you, prepping himself up
-"jeez i forgot how big this was"
-poor y/n just tryna get her chunky ass textbook outta her locker
-"...that's what she said"
-and you just stand there
-complete and utter shock
-tryna process what the fuck just came out of penis parker's mouth
-and as soon as you do
-that chunky ass book slips right through your hands (like peter slipped thru tony's as he slowly disintegrated)
-and some people just turn over and look at y'all like wtf
-"peter"
-"peter what the hell"
-and he has this total shit-eating grin on his face
-with an expression that screams (creams) are you proud of me
-"wtf peter ew"
-and so the rest of the day, he's just snagging every single mf chance he can possibly get to make a dirty joke
-you ran out of gum (be so fr rn that's the worst)
-"gah, fuck me"
-and homie will just be like
-"okay"
-in the most innocent voice ever too
-like
-wtf hormones
-or
-or
-ORRRR
-"hey y/nnnn"
-"what the fuck do you want now, peter?"
-"what do you get when you jiggle santa's balls?"
-"i- what"
-"a white christmas"
-and he's so proud of himself too
-so proud he thought of that on the spot
-"i hate you. i hate you, and now i hate christmas, too. happy birthday to you, jesus."
-and he's just giggling in the library like it's the funniest thing ever
-and at one point these dirty jokes just become so natural
-like he don't even need to try at this point
-he's a basic white fuckboy
-go off i guess
-so proud of himself and so happy
-y'all are at his place
-and you're sitting on his bed
-bottom bunk with your back to the wall
-scrolling mindlessly thru your phone (when ur supposed to be studying but so fr who actually has it in them to study)
-and peter just drops down from the ceiling upside down
-scaring the batshit outta you
-spiderbat
-spiderbat
-eats the things that a spider shat
-irrelevant in a relevant way
-and you scream like deudneusjeidjeudn not having it
-"woah chill it's just me"
-"you're a fucking spider not a bat wtf are you doing"
-"testing out these new webs"
-as if that excuse was good enough
-aS IF
-silly goosey
-and in that moment of fear you had
-your phone went bye
-dropped between the butthole crack that was between the wall and the bed
-bye mfs
-"petER MY PHONE"
-"relax, relax, i'll get it"
-so he flings himself on the mattress beside you
-WHEEEEE
-and he's trying to grab it but his hands don't reach
-so he pulls away
-and you raise an eyebrow
-"hold up i got thissss"
-and he tries webbing it out but the phone wont come out cuz its flat on the floor
-so he gives up on that and tries to reach for it again
-"pete try a different position it's literally not coming out"
-"which one?"
-"idk maybe doggy style"
-and he turns around so fast he coulda snapped his neck (like gwen)
-bros so surprised and you're just there raising your eyebrow trying not to laugh
-so eventually, peter has to move the bed to get it out
-and almost knocks over the bunk beds because he's so chaotic
-at this point you've already accepted it
-he's a bean but he's a fuckboy bean
-so a couple days later
-the four of you are at a study sesh
-"damn it, the pencil's jammed and the lead won't come out"
-you're just tryna get ur homework done
-and he just grins
-doesn't even say anything
-just has this shit eating grin that says everything
-and mjs so done
-so done, she ain't having it
-"oh my fucking god, you've proved you're point, you won the bet!"
-"this was a bet??"
-well guys first hc is donzo
-i was just too tired to used coherent grammar so this is what we've ended up with
-chaotic mess + my commentary = more of a chaotic mess
-alls well that ends well
-people say that right
-??????????
-eebduiewhxeiwbxihew
-i'm dead
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Hairtie
(What's a better hairtie besides Carl's hands)
Carl Grimes X Fem Reader 18+
CW: Blowjob, Sub Carl
You were laying down on your room, feeling the heat reflecting through your windows. It's a hot afternoon in Alexandria and you just want to rest for a while but the heat keeps bugging you.
"Fuck so hot" you murmured as you wipe your sweat in your forehead. You stand up in your bed and takes a one shirt from you drawer
cause your recent shirt is full of sweat now. As you toss aside the sweaty shirt and put on the new shirt. You sighed in comfort, but now the problem is your hairtie is missing. Where it could be in this house?
You searched in your room to find your only hairtie but you find nothing as you walked out your room and searched through the hallway, looking carefully if there's any sign of a black hairtie.
"Maybe Carl knew where it was" you said as you started walking your way in your boyfriends room
Your feet stopped in front if his room but its closed? You try to open it but it's locked
You suddenly heard whimpers and moans as you stick your ear in his room
"Fuck shit"
"Fuck y/n darling"
His hand going up and down on his cock, pleasuring himself thinking of you. He doesn't know you're hearing him as he continue masturbating inside his room. You continue to hear his moans as you felt yourself getting wet by the thought of it.
You bit your lip as you get the courage and knock on his door.
"Carl darling?" You called him, as you knocked again on his door
He get startled as he hears you knocking as he immediately find a pillow to cover him.
He opens the door and sits back on his bed.
"Yes darling?" He looks at you innocently wishing you didn't hear him
You walked on his room as you cross your shoulders, smirking on him
"What are you doing exactly?"
His eye widened and he clears his throat as he find a way to lie "ohhh I'm just doing pushup, you know to be healthy"
"Doesn't look like it"
You took a step forward, you're now in front of him. Scanning himself and his messy room
"Are you pleasuring yourself?"
The look on his face was astonish as he try to cover his lie again
"What? I'm not pleasuring myself okay"
"Why would you think that?"
He rolled his eyes and looked away from you, as you look at him with a stern face. He wipe a sweat off on his forehead, as you shrugged on him.
"Okay if you say so" as you walked around his room and find your hairtie
You searched on the floor and the drawer of his room and stand beside him again "you see any hairtie of mine darling?"
"I don't know too" He shaked his head as he responded still sitting tightly and covering himself in the pillow
As you bent over and it looks like you're finding your hairtie carefully in the floor but the truth is you're teasing him. You bent some more as your curves and your butt being a sight of him.
His eye can't help but look at your butt, the dirty thoughts take over him as his cock twitched and asked for attention. He just want to jerk off again or might as well bang you up in the floor. You let out a small giggle as you continue to bent over as he spoke
"Fine I'm masturbating"
"I can't help it you know, it's the hormones"
He looked at you nervously, biting his lip wishing you're not mad at him
You stand up and tilt your head on the direction of him, disbelief feeling that he's still shy to ask if you could help him out
"you know I'm your girlfriend right? I could always help you out on this"
"I-i uhmm yeah I forget" He stammers as his cheeks flushed red, he's out of words and his mind is running crazy now on what you just said
You walked little steps now facing him, as you grabbed and toss the pillow that's covering him
Veiny cock being shown as his erection can't help now that you're staring at him
His face is all red now, as his cock leaked out some pre cum, very aroused that his girlfriend caught him like this
"Let me help you here" you kneeled down infront of him as he still sits on his bed. Your One hand slowly touching his cock, jerking it off before licking his tip off. He whimpered on your touch, as you suck him in the soft walls of your mouth
You bobbed your head up and down as your other hand wraps on the base of his cock. Continuing sucking him whole as your innocent eyes look at him
"Fuck don't stop" He moaned as his hands hold your hair tightly, continuing to suck him off. He started to thrust his hips to your mouth, his cock hitting your gag reflex that almost made you gagged. Tears on your eyes when you almost gagged but you continue to suck him off, swirling your tongue in his cock while you suck eagerly. Large drops of drool coming to your mouth while doing that.
You continue to bobbed your head, your breast bouncing on the movement. You looked up at Carl as he continue to moan and roll his eyes at the pleasure he's receiving.
"Fuck so pretty" He looked down at you as he still grips your hair and thrusting his cock to your mouth. Definitely losing his mind now can't think of anything but to cum on your throat. Minutes later he was moaning loudly now and he's shaking, you know he's close.
"Fuck I'm coming" He groaned, as you fastly bobbed your head, nearing his climax. He moaned loudly as his cock twitched inside you and cum spilling on your mouth. He breathe out exhausted laying on the bed after releasing.
"Mhm delicious" you swallowed and wiped some of his cum beside your mouth. You stand up and get yourself cleaned, getting the wipes on his drawer, wiping off your sweat and the cum spilled on the floor.
You see your black hairtie on his bed and fastly picked it up as you leave Carl for a while to rest.
You walked out and close his door as Michonne walked passed by at you.
"Oh just took my hairtie" you smiled, letting her see your hairtie before joining her on the walk.
#carl grimes#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes imagines#twd carl#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x fem!reader#the walking dead
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Mental health rant under neath the cut
Tw:
Idk generally bad thoughts no privacy dublde standards
I can't deal with this shit no more fucki can't deal with this shit to many double standers just cuz I was born with a vagina man to many double standers and no one irl to this shit about ngl online freinds are banger but can't shake there shoulders for emphasis lol my brothers get away with anything for having dicks idk if jts the teen age hormones menstruation or me just over reacting but I'm angry and cmat deal with this shit sobbing rn but here's no privacy in this damm house I have no rooms even tho my brothers tho can't lock no doors no ii dropped a quikt over my self put the ac on and hope I don't get a heat stroke I'm already fasting tho to the cult known as islam some Muslims are nice and shit but I don't want to be in this cult where I can't even be bisexual in peace but I prefer not be stoned to death even tho that would mean I die and I don't have to deal with this shit but fuck I can't day before I tell my family to fuck off eat ass telll them u shouldn't children amd send them a pic of my kissing a women that would be funny but goddam I can't deal with the fact my brothers and steal my shit be bifchy hurt me whatever and if I complain I get the same damm response
Brothers are just like that
Fuck the best I get is my nice aunt saying they should be nicer I can't deal with my mother's telling me weather she disciples them or not there gonna be like that mo birth giver this sis your fualt I'm a bit bitchy at times but I'm fine amd our westerners magic or some shit or are there boys women in discise no matter what I do they arnt gonna take me seriously fuck once I told my mother I tried to kill me self (it was bout something stupid lol) she went on and on about that would ruin there reputation and shit fuck amd the thing is I'm self aware his shit is wrong but fuck I'm a supposed to do about it I'm here sobbing under a quilt having a heat stroke but the thing I ain't making a single noise beacuse I masterd the art of crying silent I hold my breath then I take a breath quickly so nothing goes out fuck I wanna draw but I can't beacuse my brothers lost my coulers reasonable I still have more then enough to draw beacuse it was a big set with 2 hundred coukers but jt a gift and my maybe autistic ass can deal with so many of them missing I want my set back I want my fans sharpener and fancy eraser back I lost one couler man ONE YET THERES still so many missing my brothers call me so many names yet they go off scott free I have afew online freid s one I vent to but he made the mistake kf being born a boy and I'm a girl so no I can't talk to him fuck and I have no privacy my mom says no privacy till marriage but maybe thags my fault for being bad with technology I changed changed my accounts to my on only a matter of time till my brothers complain to mum about it but my acount was made by brother but I forgot that so I have have find out how to change that if possible amd my conversations are spied by my brothers its so unfair maybe its just a hormonsbut I can't dealcwih this shit why is everything my fault I have half mind mind cut of my breasts and vagina and did I mention I can't run bescuse my chest is developing and I lady shouldn't run and shit while my brother can go fuck of and play football I understand that thers ba dpeople who want ogle at breats and I understand I'm developing my chest a bit earlier then other but dose that mean the little child hood I have should be takes from me should I filch from my mother while my brothers don't why do I have so many more rules that others don't I can't deal with this man I can't I'm so depressed I'm not even writing poetry like usual why are my hobby cringe and weird but when my brothers do it it's different and cool my one escapism famfictions where no matter how much shit tommy goes throw he eventually gets his found family and a happy ending but why don't I!!! Its unfair I go throw dukble the hurt none the fluff my brothers constantly shit on it why are you reading GAY fanfictions when jts gen GEN only reason they think it's gay is because they can't read the tags and think the fact
Tommy innt talks to tubbo
Means tommy is violently fucking him il admit I read original smut time to time but get it right I would never read shut about real people even if it's about the characters my brothers also fuckin gread fanics one of my brother lotions to narouto fnafics the other used to write jojo fan fics prob still dose maybe but I was the only one he felt safe and comfortable enough to show what changed! Now he shots on the fact I write and read i would never think about showing him what I write he tales my things and gets no consequences I'm younger and a bit weaker so I can't even hit him if i do he hits my harder then I scolded this is so fucking unfair i just what someone who o cam show my things who I can love maybe I read to much fanfics of happy endings but lord i wish I could get a time skip to my happy ending skip my hurt I could spend this time writing my storys next chapter but gods I don't want to do anything nowadays I know the reason I want to into the sport club is so I can spend less time at my home call it escapism if you want but gods I don't know man i just don't wanna do this I wanna leave every one is my family sucks but I still love them and that's why it hurts I don't wanna do any of this I don't want to be Muslim I don't wanna be in the closet I don't want to hide hiw fuckimg feminist I am my brothers will proudly say
They hate Indians and there racist they will be say there transphobic homophobic racist sexsist abalist etc my fucking freind is a gay trans man who's autist I'm freinds with a Indian online I think women are fucking sexy I belive everyone deserves rights I don't agree with anything of them I almost wish I was worse all those bad things just so i cam fit in I get so jealous when I read fanfics of loving sibling dynamics now a days why can't I have that Why it's just so unfair I don't wanna do this I don't wanna do this gods I'm blaming this on my peiord but before I leave why the fuck is that so tabbo man why half the population dose it so why do I have to hide it man why are man's so macho when they can't handle the thought that i bleed of my vagina I can't deal with this bullshit man I can't being a women sucks i wanna kiss a girl fuck boy kisser I wanna be a girl kisser women are sexy and oh did i mention what a fucked up relationship I have with my body i once got sick as fuck and my mother said that atleast I'm losing so much weight beacuse of this like mom that's not a good thing I like the compliments I get but it's not worth being hungry and I'm still fat it's so unfair i can't deal with this shit no one fuckinb knows I'm crying bescuse I'm crying so silently when I want to scream so bad rn I'm natursly a scream Cryer but I had to master being silent gods I don't wanna live like this
Peace out yall love your self drink water
I'm gonna go kill my self/jkjk
#bad#bad mental health#i wanna kill my self jkjk#i wanna kill my family#help yall#based on my life#sad thoughts
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