#about why i left and was cutting contact and. everything i have done since then. the new stuff and the new friends and the general autonomy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iznsfw · 9 months

Text

Trouvaille

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 1 - Kwon Eunbi

IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

21,183 words

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

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

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

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

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

Everything is too much.

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

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

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

But you’re still completely, royally pissed off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll live.”

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

You sigh loudly. “Eunbi.”

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

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

At this point—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take that cap off and we’ll see.”

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

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

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

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

"Two, please. Thank you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good, because I just lost your bag."

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

"Eunbi, what the—"

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

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

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

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

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

"You alright there?" Eunbi asks.

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

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

"Well—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's invasive."

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

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

“I don’t mind, honestly.”

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

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

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

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

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

The last time you'll see her?

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

“Telling you what?”

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

"Hit me."

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

Oh.

That.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What else can she say?

Perhaps:

“Please.”

Everything stops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

She tells you.

“Eunbi lost your backpack?”

For the hundredth time: “Yes.”

"Like actually?"

"Yep."

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

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

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

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

All those documents, lecture takeaways, pencils…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me how the date goes!”

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

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

Something’s wrong. What is it?

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

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

“W-well—”

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

“Fuck it, I’m sorry, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eunbi—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug casually. “Born and raised.”

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

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

"Jesus."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No can do. Just do this one thing.”

And now, the night quiets.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, no, no—ahhhh!”

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright, fine. Turn on the light."

"Where?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Eunbi!"

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

"Help! My hand—"

"What's going on here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Christ, what's she doing here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sakura only has one stipulation:

You have to go with Eunbi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d you know where I was?”

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

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

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

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

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

You don't want to think about it.

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

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

“What?”

“I said: is it weird when it’s me?”

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

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

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

“No!”

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

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

You’re lucky Eunbi never takes things to heart.

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

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

“Do you like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck! Eunbi, Eunbi, Eunbi—”

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

“Good girl. Good pretty girl.”

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

“I love you.”

That’s what she says.

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

It could only ever be in your imagination.

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

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

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

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

She's leaning over, and she's saying—

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

Close enough?

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

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

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

"So it is."

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

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

Look at her.

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

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

Yeah, all gone.

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

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

“You really love me, huh?”

“Never said it was you.”

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

Well, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Swallow. Why the fuck is she like this?

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

She bends over.

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

"—drop."

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

"Not even close. Give me a smize."

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

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

—your friend. Your best friend.

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

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

And that scares you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That a problem for you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wanna get a Piglet?"

“A what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll be good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So? It means a lot to you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Like trouvaille,” she says.

“What?”

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

A lucky find.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Even… ?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh!”

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

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

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

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

She gasps. “Again.”

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jealous?”

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

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

Then you remember something.

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

She’s near tears. “No…”

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

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

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

You take her home instead.

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

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

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

There’s pride in that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you?” she challenges.

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

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

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

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

“Give it to me what?”

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

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

“Wow, hypocrite. Fuck you—”

“Baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But oh, you are.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re terrible at this.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not commenting… on, t-that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a brat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Swallow.”

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

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

(You are.)

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

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

“Anytime.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like I said: incredibly demanding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d rather show.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You keep granting. And granting. And granting.

“Spread those legs.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Open more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both of you know what’s true anyway.

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

“How fast are we talking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A lit match to a flamed lighter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you say, laughing.

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

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

You don’t.

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

You do.

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

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

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

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

“Nah,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“It worked!”

“I can’t believe it worked!”

“They’re so obvious about it, too!”

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

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

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

You are, too.

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Way to time your—”

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

Do so.

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

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

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

“I told you to save yourself the trouble.”

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

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

“I like it when you trouble me.”

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

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

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

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

Refer to this:

You kiss her, your little trouvaille.

1K notes · View notes

landosjpg · 2 months

Text

the black dog | ln

the one where you watch your ex boyfriend walk into some bar called the black dog.

lando norris x gender-neutral!reader

word count: ~1.9k

warnings: angst!!!!, happy ending so fluff as well, brief discussion of bad mental health, lando is a bit of a prick at some point, exes to lovers, one sexual innuendo (?)

note: based on this request and obviously the black dog by taylor swift. this is one of my favorite taylor songs EVER i got so excited when i got this request. i also love a good angsty, heart-breaking fic so giving this a happy ending was a bit harder than it should’ve but i hope you enjoy it!

“stop that,” you softly cooed, your hands cupping his cheeks to try and make him look at you.

the past few weeks had been harsh on him, and you could feel how every self-deprecating comment just made him drown deeper into his own head. you just wanted the best for him.

he didn’t answer. instead, he looked away again, trying his best to avoid your gaze at all costs.

“it’s just been a bad weekend, baby. next one will be better,” you added.

“stop with the optimistic bullshit,” he rudely said before you could add anything else to try and cheer him up.

you knew he was angry —rightfully so —after missing on a potential win only a few days before, but you couldn’t just sit and watch him bring himself down anymore.

“it just hurts to see you like this,” you mumbled.

“it’s hurting you?” he snapped, his tone accusing. “why do you have to make everything about you, every single time?”

as his words escaped his lips, he gently pushed you off his lap, immediately getting up from the couch.

“i’m just saying…” you tried to explain, although his words hurt more than you would ever admit out loud.

“i don’t care what you’re saying,” he cut you off. “it’s always the same story with you. the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, you know?”

your lips parted, intending to defend yourself, but no words left your mouth. not like lando would had let you speak, anyway.

“this is the last thing i need right now, i’m done here,” he grumbled.

you froze at the tone of his voice, not having heard him talking to you like that ever before. and you didn’t do anything to stop him when he picked up his jacket and walked to the entrance of your apartment, announcing his departure with a loud slam of the front door.

he just needed time, you told yourself.

but he didn’t call, and you didn’t wake up to a simple apology in your messages and him asking to see you as you were used to.

and it had been forty-two days since he had stormed out of your apartment and, unknowingly to you, vowed to never talk to you again.

and after six weeks of no contact, you still missed him.

lando had been more than just your boyfriend, he had been your best friend for as long as you could remember; he was there, in every little memory you had.

you had always been the first person he ran to whenever the smallest thing happened, and for the past few weeks you had to settle for watching his life go on without you through pictures and media outlets.

and as much as your friends tried to tell you that it would get better, every morning without him just got harder than the previous one; used to having his arms wrapped all around you and his curls tickling your neck, waking up in a cold bed was certainly something you weren’t quite fond of.

however, he seemed to be moving on.

that’s what you thought as you sat in the darkness of your room, the only light illuminating the space being the dim glow of your phone’s screen as you intently watched the small, blue dot moving on your screen.

he had forgotten to turn his location off.

like every weekend since the break up, you watched him walk into some random bar in a different city, piercing a new, deeper hole in your heart every time. and you couldn’t help but hope that they played your song each night, that even the smallest thing reminded him of you.

but instead, every morning you woke up to a new picture of him leaving the place with some girl wrapped around his arm, while you could barely wear your favorite clothes because they took you back to a memory you shared with him.

you didn’t understand how he didn’t miss you, how he could be doing so good without you by his side.

୨୧

it had never been his intention to walk out of your life that afternoon. but when the anger washed away, all he could feel was shame.

guilt, for how he had talked to you when all you wanted was to help. and he wasn’t sure he could ever look at you in the eyes without the feeling overfilling his senses. so, instead, he did what he knew best: he ran away.

and the only thing that could take you off his mind for some time was drowning his own pain in alcohol every weekend, end the night with some girl’s legs wrapped around him.

but that night, he froze as the first notes of your song started playing; the song that had started playing when you got in his car the first time he took you out on a proper date. and the upbeat music took him right back to that day.

he could still picture the sight of your teary eyes as you walked into his apartment after another failed date —the guy hadn’t even showed up; the sound of your sobs as you buried your face on his chest, looking for some comfort, still making his heart clench.

“you deserve better,” he had whispered into your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head. “someone who’s willing to give you everything.”

“i’m tired of searching,” you had simply mumbled, feeling hopeless after so many disappointments.

“maybe you don’t have to search for it,” he had said before he could even think about his words. “maybe it’s been right in front of your nose all this time.”

at the underlying confession of his words, you raised your head from his chest to look up at him.

“hm?” you hummed.

lando had always liked you; but he had also been scared of you not reciprocating his feelings, of your friendship being ruined by the love he had for you. however, he had been completely oblivious as to the way you had always looked at him.

but that time, he caught the glint in your eyes as his gaze met yours, and so he confidently asked:

“can i take you out on a date?”

he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he saw you crack a smile, relief washing all over him.

“i would love to,” you mumbled.

he smiled at your reply, his thumbs coming up to wipe the remains of your tears.

“tonight, then?” he softly kissed your cheek before you nodded and wrapped your arms around his frame, unknowing of how the turn your relationship would take after that night.

he looked down at the girl who was grinding herself against him, trying to ignore the memories flooding his mind; but her eyes didn’t sparkle the way yours did as the song played. and he knew she just wouldn’t get the jokes he was so tempted to make, the ones that would send you into a fist of laughter despite of the many times you had heard them before.

in short, she simply wasn’t you. and he knew he wouldn’t ever feel that way with someone else.

“excuse me,” he said, trying to push her away from him.

he made his way out of the bar pushing in between the sea of people, his phone clutched in his hand the second he stepped a foot outside.

he sighed as he looked at his screen, the cool air making him come back to his senses; he couldn’t just text you. not after ghosting you for over a month.

but he missed you, so what else could he do? how else could he apologize for what he did?

୨୧

you turned around in bed as you felt the room being illuminated again by the screen of your phone, a message interrupting your attempt to sleep.

your heart skipped a beat as you saw his contact picture, followed by a simple “are you up?”. you couldn’t believe your eyes, anxiety coursing through your veins as you stared at the message.

“you still have read receipts on”

“say something, please”

fuck, of course. and you had been staring at his text for five minutes straight.

“what?” you simply typed with shaky fingers; it was dry, yes, but you were still hurt about how things ended between the two of you.

his answer came almost immediately: “just wanted to apologize” it read.

but nothing could’ve prepared you for his next message, asking if he could come over instead of doing so over text.

you hesitated for a few minutes; you knew you shouldn’t, but you needed closure as well.

so, naturally, you accepted.

you anxiously padded around your house as you waited for him, biting your nails as you imagined every possible scenario that could happen. five. ten. fifteen minutes, and then you heard a knock on the door.

the door opened slowly, revealing the figure of your ex-boyfriend.

you stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him and turning around with your gaze fixed on the floor. the silence was deafening,and the situation felt awkward.

“can i have some water?” lando tried to break the ice, his eyes fixed on you as you simply nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

when you came back only a few minutes later with two glasses on your hands, he had made himself comfortable. you walked to the couch and sat next to him, with a considerable distance between the two of you.

“i just…” he broke the silence again, his voice low and slightly nervous. you didn’t dare look at him yet, so you looked down at your lap, where you fidgeted with your fingers.

you heard him sigh as he chose his next words carefully.

“i never meant to hurt you, or ruin what we had,” lando started. “it was a few bad weeks, and i know i shouldn’t have, but i took it all out on you. and then i didn’t think i could even look you in the face after what i said.”

you looked up at him, your eyes starting to water as you took in his words.

“you could’ve just explained yourself, i would’ve understood,” you replied with a thin, vulnerable voice.

“i was ashamed of myself after the fight and i thought running away from all of it would be the best,” he said as his gaze met yours. “truth is i haven’t stopped thinking about you for a single minute all this time. i really miss you,” he almost whispered.

“i…” you stuttered.

“i get it if you can’t forgive me,” his voice broke mid-sentence.

“‘s not that,” you mumbled, a few tears running down your cheeks. “just wish it didn’t take you this long.”

you noticed his pained expression as he noticed the tears on your face, quickly whispering a soft “c’mere” as he opened his arms. you sighed and scooped next to him, letting his arms wrap around your frame in a comforting hug.

“i’m really sorry,” you heard him whisper into your hair before he planted a gentle kiss on top of your head. “i won’t leave again.”

“promise?” you murmured, snuggling closer into his embrace.

“promise, baby,” he answered in the same low voice.

you nodded slightly, your eyes fluttering close as you took in his scent and the way his grip on you tightened, an oath to never let you go again.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris blurb #lando norris drabble #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #ln4 x y/n #ln4 one shot #ln4 smut #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader

678 notes · View notes

cutielando · 1 month

Text

we can't be friends, part 3 | l.n.

synopsis: in which he finally confesses

part 1 part 2

my masterlist

Lando had never felt as confused and at a loss as he did in the days following the kiss you had shared.

There was this gnawing feeling that wouldn’t leave him alone, a feeling telling him that he was an awful human being for continuing to deceive you, to lie to you about the past that you two shared and the history between you two. Hiding what happened between the two of you, the deep-rooted pain that he had caused you that had been so hurtful that you had to wipe away every single memory that you had made with him.

He knew that he had got a new chance to love you, to do things right this time around, but was he starting fresh by lying to you from the very first time you bumped into each other again? Was he any better than the first time around?

He had been battling with his thoughts for a good couple of days, trying to avoid having contact with you as much as possible so he wouldn’t be distracted.

You didn’t know how to feel when Lando suddenly started interacting with you less and less as the days went by. Your brain had started overthinking everything you had done the last time you had seen each other, trying to come up with answers about what you did that scared him off.

You came up with no answer.

And yet, the feeling of something being wrong never left your gut. You had had this feeling ever since you and Lando bumped into each other in the paddock. The sense that somehow, you knew him better than you imagined, that there was something more to the two of you than just randomly bumping into each other.

You couldn't shake the feeling over the course of the time you spent together. Your body and mind felt at ease whenever you were around him, like they had known and felt his presence a thousand times already.

The first time you and Lando had seen each other ever since the ghosting period you had been forced into was a week and a half later, when he had called you over to his place to ‘have a talk about everything.’ Deep down in your gut, you knew there was something more to just having a talk, but you went either way, eager to get some answers.

When you arrived at his place and entered the apartment, there was a momentary tension in the air between the two of you.

You awkwardly stood by the entrance door to the living room, Lando sat on the sofa fondling with his hands in his lap.

“Please, take a seat” he motioned, clearing his throat.

You gave him a small smile and sat next to him, keeping a distance between the two of you. Lando noticed that, but chose not to say anything for the time being.

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked, cutting straight to the chase.

The suspense had been killing you the entire ride to his apartment, you couldn’t wait any longer to find out why he had called you over.

“Right” he cleared his throat again. “Look, before this goes any further, I thought long and hard about this and decided you should know the truth before anything else happens” he started, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“What truth? What’s going on?” you shuffled closer to him, your knees now touching.

“You see, this isn’t the first time we’ve met” he said, making you feel even more confused. “We were together, a couple of years ago”

“Excuse me? You and I? Together? That’s not possible” you argued, now once again shifting further away from him.

“I know it sounds impossible, but just bear with me. We were together in the past, and we were very happy too, until I screwed things up. I started putting my career and friends above our relationship, we didn’t spend as much time together as we used to, we started fighting a whole lot when we did find time to be in the same room as each other. We were miserable because of me at the end” he said, hanging his head low.

You shook your head, your mind trying to wrap around the information you had just heard. It was just not possible, was it? You didn’t remember anything that he was saying, so how could you forget something like that?

“I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate, but this is insane. You realize that, right?” you said, standing up and pacing around the room.

“I know. We broke up after I forgot the anniversary dinner plans we had made weeks in advance. I remember the moment as if it were yesterday, the hurt in your eyes still haunts me to this day. You cut off all contact with me and a couple of months after, your sister told me that you had got a procedure done to wipe your memories of our relationship and me”

You stopped in your tracks, your eyes wide. All of those times that your gut told you that you knew this man, that you had been with him before somehow, it all made sense now. You wiped your memories of him, but your body couldn’t deny the effect that he had on you still.

“I know you hate me right now, and rightfully so. The moment I saw you those months ago in the paddock felt like the universe had finally given me a chance to start over, to do better this time. I would never, ever even dream about hurting you again like I did the first time around. You deserve so much better than that and I want to give you the world. I decided to tell you this so we wouldn’t start anything based on a lie”

You bit your lip, turning back to look at him.

The look in his eyes, so desperate for you to say something to him, was the most sincere one you had ever seen. Your brain was telling you to get the hell out, run away and forget about ever starting anything with the man that had hurt you once. But your heart was doing the exact opposite: what if you two meeting again was indeed a sign? A sign that you were meant to try again, give it one more shot?

You didn’t know what to do.

Your mind and your heart were waging a war inside of you, and Lando could see the turmoil behind your eyes. He knew he had just ambushed you with so much information that you had to comprehend, and he wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to do with him from that point onwards.

“Can I have some time to think it through before I make a decision?” you asked, looking at him.

He nodded immediately, getting up to stand in front of you.

“Take all the time you need. No matter the decision you decide to take, I’m going to respect it” his words made you smile sadly and nod.

You placed a kiss on his cheek as you made your way towards the front door, leaving the apartment and a broken Lando behind.

Lando felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest, but another one, even heavier, had taken its place. He knew, deep down, that he had just done the right thing for the both of you. Then why did it feel so wrong? Why did it feel like he just killed your relationship for good?

Sighing, he couldn’t do anything else other than wait for you, make sure to give you space and hope that you decide he’s not a total creep and he’s worth your time.

Your thoughts were scattered all over the place as you walked through the streets to your apartment. The information you had just been fed swirling around in your mind at lightning speed. You didn’t know what you were supposed to believe, what you were supposed to think of the whole situation.

Does Lando deserve a second chance? Has he really changed as much as he says? Or had he just jumped at the chance to use you and the fact that your memory was altered to weasel his way into your life again?

Was getting in bed with him after what he had done dangerous?

Maybe.

But something deep inside of you was telling you that maybe, just maybe, this is how things were supposed to happen.

You had been so deep in thought that you didn’t realize where you were. You were expecting to find yourself in front of your apartment building, ready to think about it and have a good night’s sleep.

And yet, your feet had had a mind of their own. Only explanation as to why you stood, once again, in front of Lando’s apartment door. Deep down, despite all of the things that you thought you had to think about, your heart had already decided for you.

Knocking on the door, you didn’t need to wait for too long before Lando opened the door, standing there with a confused expression.

“Y/N?” he asked as he watched you enter the apartment, closing the front door behind him.

“I know I said I needed some time to think everything through, but the truth is I don’t need time. I don’t remember anything about us before, and I don’t want to remember. Us meeting and reconnecting again shows me that we’re supposed to try this out one more time. Forget about the past and turn over a new leaf” you explained, watching the stress leaving his shoulder and his frown turn into a smile.

Lando let out a sigh of relief as he listened to you, his plagued mind finally being set free. He didn’t know what to say to you, so he did the next best thing he knew.

He closed the gap between the two of you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you as if his life depended on it, having been deprived of your touch for way too long.

You gasped, the feeling of his lips on yours sending shocks all throughout your body. He felt so good, his lips on yours feeling like they were made for each other, like two pieces of a puzzle.

And then, you knew, in your heart, that you had made the right decision.

Right?

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

232 notes · View notes

hyunsvngs · 1 year

Text

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 - han jisung x gn!afab reader (side lee minho x gn!afab reader)

wc: 5.6k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: best friends fuckin, gender neutral pronouns used but reader is afab, jisung being stupid, minho being slay, smut warnings under the cut!

synopsis: after spending a night with the man of your dreams, your best friend won’t look you in the eyes or reply to your texts. what did you do wrong? nothing - he just wants you.

a/n: part two of the fratboy series!! i really hope you guys enjoy this one bc bratty ji means so much to me :D

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: ji is a brat, reader is dom in this one, READER IS MEAN (JISUNG LOVES IT), face slapping, oral (reader rec), dirty talk, degradation (ji rec), pussy drunk!jisung, cum eating, slight edging (both)?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You woke up the next morning feeling incredibly satiated, for once in your life. Minho had managed to fulfill a lot of kinks that you didn’t even know you had, realistically, and you praised yourself for being so dumb to announce that you wanted to be his sex slave last night. The dominant man had given you more than enough attention, and you knew you’d want to come back for more.

Waking up in Minho’s bed didn't feel strange, weirdly enough. He’d headed out early, and left you a little plate consisting of a tall glass of water and a snack with a note saying that he had to leave for his shift at work, and that he was sorry. You grinned at the note. He was courteous enough to do that even after fucking your brains out the night before. You’d eaten the snack - a simple assortment of fruits - and downed the water, before heading home for the day.

After a shower and a clean outfit a lot more casual than what you’d worn the night before, you felt fresh and ready. Well, as fresh and ready as you could be considering you’d tried to phone and text your best friend multiple times since leaving the frat house and he’d literally been ignoring you.

You blinked down at your phone, seeing another text sent by you to Jisung that had simply been left on read. You’d even tried to phone him, but he’d let it go straight to the answering machine. After the third ‘this is legendary rapper J.One, spit bars after the beep’, your patience had run thin. You were confused, obviously, because what the fuck had you done to bother him so much? He was fine with you sleeping with Minho last night, and he honestly had no right to be angry about it when him and Felix had been so fucking persistent about it. Speaking of, you wondered if the resident sunshine had any idea what you’d done to the other member of your triad.

You quickly went onto the contacts app, clicking Felix’s name that was fortunately close to the top, given your late night group FaceTimes with Jisung. He answered almost immediately.

“Hey, angel. What’s up?”

You blanched. You hadn’t gotten this far in your plan. “Hey, Lix. I was just wondering, um… have I done something to annoy Jisung? He’s like, completely leaving me on read when I text him and he’s refusing to answer any calls.”

Felix went silent at the end of the line. “Oh, right. Yeah.”

“... What does that mean?”

“His room is next to Minho’s, you know, and he was in bed when you fucked Minho. He woke up not too long after you put him to bed,” his deep voice was anything but comforting. “He heard everything.”

“Oh. Okay. Why is this a problem?” You three knew everything and anything about each other, and you’d literally exposed your undying lust for his older frat brother the night before. What’s the big deal? Also, given the state Jisung was in last night, you were honestly shocked he remembered hearing anything, let alone actually waking up. You’d actually thought he’d be out for the count, sleeping all day and nursing a horrific hangover after too many of his Hanji Supremes.

“Well, you know Ji. He’s insanely horny. It turned him on and now he’s terrified to look into your eyes because he’s thinking about it.”

Oh. Oh. He was thinking about you and Minho? Was it Minho he was focused on, or you? You went silent on the line, and after a few times of Felix repeating your name to get your attention, you finally answered.

“Right. Right, yeah. That makes sense. Thanks for clearing that up, Lix,” you replied, still quiet. You weren’t too sure how to address it. “What do I do?”

Felix’s deep chuckle resounded over your tinny phone speakers. “Apart from fucking him senseless, I don’t think anything else could help him here unfortunately.”

You raised your eyebrows. Had you thought about that before, fucking your best friend? Of course you had. You were no stranger to Jisung’s sexual preferences in bed, knowing that he liked to be a brat and be treated a little meanly by someone powerful. ‘A little’ being an understatement, actually. It was something you were no stranger to, and honestly, you knew that if you ever wanted no-strings-attached sex, it would be Jisung you’d go to. No thought needed on that one. You knew Felix was probably joking, but it was making you think on the topic. Could you do it? Could you fuck your best friend?

Yeah. Yeah, you could. It had you wondering if Minho would mind, but you quickly shook that thought out of your head. You’re not together. You can have a bit of no-strings-attached sex with your friend.

You hummed, nodding. “Okay. I can do that.”

“W-Wait, Y/N, I was-” You hung up the line, a determined set to your jaw. You were gonna go to that frat house and find out what the fuck had gotten up Jisung’s ass - if Felix was right, then he was going to have the time of his life. If he was wrong, then you had another situation to solve, which would be no problem. You had some weird feeling that Felix was right, though.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You arrived at the frat house, narrowing your eyes at the front door. Something about it seemed so offending to you. The fact that one of your two best friends was in there right now, wallowing in loathe and hatred for you just because he wanted you to be mean to him? You could do that. You knew that you could be a little mean. You also knew that you were making some vast assumptions. You swung open the door, not caring about knocking, and started to storm up the stairs to Jisung’s room.

“Damn, Y/N, back for more already-” You ignored Seungmin’s quip as you stormed up the stairs, and swung open Jisung’s bedroom door. It was messy, as usual, clothes strewn everywhere that were probably both dirty and clean. Random cans of pop were sitting on his desk and his skateboard was propped up against the wall, looking like it had seen better days. His bed wasn’t even made. You resisted the urge to chastise him on the mess and instead stared straight at his sitting figure, hunched over the desk staring at his laptop, his large over-ear headphones resting on his head. The music production major hadn’t even noticed you’d come in, head bobbing to the beat blasting through the headphones. He was in work mode.

Fuck work mode. You stormed over, ripping the dark blue headphones off his head and throwing them onto the desk. He turned to you, round eyes immediately widening further and jaw dropping slightly. His cheeks had already begun to burn crimson. You felt a bit bad, sighing at his facial expression. You were becoming soft already. “Sungie, honey, what’s wrong? What did I do?”

“I-” Jisung stared at you. He was unable to form words, tugging at the sleeves of his oversized black hoodie. “Nothing. I didn’t expect- why- you’re here?”

You raised your eyebrows. You weren’t too convinced that Felix was right anymore, with Jisung being a ball of nerves and anxiety in front of your very eyes. You immediately started rambling, unable to stop yourself. “Yes, I’m here, because my best friend was leaving my texts on seen and wasn’t picking up my calls. Which you never do, you can’t ever shut the fuck up. You can’t blame me for thinking I’ve done something wrong here, Sungie. You didn’t seem to mind last night, and I’m sorry if I made it weird by sleeping with Minho, but-”

“N-No!” Jisung stammered out. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his joggers, before throwing his head in his hands and sighing. He looked about five seconds away from kicking out his feet and screaming. “Not done anything wrong. You haven’t, I mean. I have.”

You were no stranger to Jisung when he was like this, stumbling over words and not able to get his point across. You sat cross legged on the floor in front of him, just patiently waiting, speaking with a soft voice. “Just tell me, Sungie. Is it something we can fix?”

“Yeah. No. Yeah. Okay. Maybe. Like, so… you’re gonna think I’m a freak.”

“I always think you’re a freak, Jisung.”

Jisung scoffed, flicking your forehead. He spun on the computer chair to face you. “Shut up. Do you want to know or not?” You nodded eagerly, resting your hands on his knees. He looked at your hands as if they’d offended him, as if they’d framed him for murder or something. “I- I- Okay. Okay! Haha. Yeah. Okay, so basically, I heard you and Minho last night. Room’s next door, y’know?”

You pursed your lips. “Makes sense. Thin walls.”

“Thin walls,” Jisung agreed, nodding. He looked dazed, eyes fixating on the wall behind you. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands in hesitation. “It’s just- you know. Minho was mean.”

“Y-Yeah.” You tried to avoid thinking of last night with Minho as if it hadn’t plagued your dreams afterwards anyway. In reality, you were getting sick of this conversation. Surely he could give you a little more here? You weren’t a mind reader.

“Yeah. He was mean. I guess it… yeah, okay, it turned me on. I wanted to be… like that,” Jisung mumbled. He was still staring at the wall, but his eyes were narrower, as if he was really focusing on something. Probably the memory of what he’d heard. “Not like Minho. I wanted to be like you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You… wanted to be like me? With Minho? That’s okay, Jisung-”

“No!” He practically screamed, jolting up off the chair. He started to pace, running his hands through his hair even more, before shaking his head. He pointed at you with an incriminating stare. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed. But I was thinking of you as Minho, and me as you. You get me?”

You almost gasped out loud. So, Felix was right. “Y-You want me to be… mean to you, Jisung?”

Jisung stopped pacing. He was almost vibrating with nerves and excitement. “I- Yeah. Yeah, I do. I know it’s weird, because you’re my best friend, but I-”

You found yourself speaking before you’d even planned on saying anything. “Did that get you all hot last night, Sungie? Did you jerk off hearing me and Minho, and wishing it was me being nasty to you?”

Jisung blinked. For a moment, you thought you’d gone too far, and his round eyes simply stared directly into your soul. You began to speak, to apologize, to say anything to diffuse the tension, but Jisung was shifting on his spot, jumping from foot to foot. He started pulling at his joggers, lithe fingers yanking the fabric every which way and- oh.

Oh. He was hard. Painfully so.

It hit you then, how much you wanted your best friend. You’d always been attracted to him, you weren’t blind, but you’d always strictly put each other in the friendzone. Maybe some friendly fun could be okay? It was convincing when he stood in front of you, all messy chestnut hair and pouty lips that begged to be kissed, maybe even bitten. He was pitching what looked like a very uncomfortable tent in his joggers, sweater paws pulling at the cotton uncomfortably.

You let out a breath of air, staring at his bulge. If you squinted just right, you could probably see the definition of it. “… J-Ji, do you want to…?”

“God, Y/N, please.” With those words, you shot up from your seated position and pushed him up against the wall, his back hitting it with an almost silent thud. He gripped your shirt immediately, clenching his fingers tight around the cotton and looking as if he was going to burst out of his own skin at the anticipation. You slammed your lips together, teeth clacking and making the kiss not at all friendly but the whine Jisung let out was worth it. You could smell his cologne, something that smelled faintly of flowers but still so Jisung.

He breathed heavily into the kiss as you pressed your tongue into his mouth, using one hand to reach up and pull on his hair softly. He whined again at this, hips just barely moving forward from the wall in an attempt to gain friction. Desperate, you mused, and the revelation didn’t shock you at all. You pressed your body further against his, pinning him against the wall covered in miscellaneous rap posters and hearing the paper crinkle behind him. You pulled away from the kiss, just letting your head stay close to his so that your wet lips were still brushing against his pouty ones to tease him. It worked - he looked like he was about to die if you didn’t kiss him again.

Tentatively, you took your hand from his hair and moved it downwards to wrap around his neck, squeezing the sides. You could feel his heartbeat, quick and heavy against your fingertips. His cheeks were flaming, bright crimson and his chest heaving underneath the thick fabric of his hoodie.

“P-Please. Please, I- Been good, I’ve not been bad, not been a bad boy-“ You huffed at his babbling, shoving your free hand down his joggers. When meeting the lack of boxers, you laughed internally. It was just so Jisung to work on music with no underwear on. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had nothing under his hoodie either.

You tightened your fingers in a ring around the base of his length instantly, brushing past the smattering of dark hair on his pubic bone. He was thick, heavy in your hand and absolutely pulsing with need. He instantly let out a rather high pitched moan and writhed, trying to fuck into the tight ring you’d created around his cock. “You’ve not been bad, huh? Explain to me why such a good boy was jerking off to his best friends fucking last night then, Sungie.”

Jisung writhed, hands flying up to grip your shoulders. You started to jerk him off at a languid pace, taking your time and staring into his eyes. He looked like he was trying to answer, brain running a hundred miles per second but no words came out of his mouth, only incoherent babbles. You raised your eyebrows mockingly. “Good boys fucking answer when they’re asked a question.”

Jisung simply blinked at you, unabashed moans still tumbling out from his dropped jaw. His eyes were darting between your hand, still moving at a slow pace, and your eyes, soft but menacing. You tore your hand away, his fingers immediately digging into your shoulders in protest.

“N-No! No, didn’t- I didn’t mean to, was just- hnng.” He was struggling to get his words out, toes curling in his socks against the carpeted floor and his eyes watering with tears. “Please. ‘M so hard, Y/N, please. Fuckin’- make me cum, Jesus-”

“I know you’re fucking hard, obviously I can see that. It’s pathetic,” you scoffed. “Get on the bed. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

The doe-eyed boy nodded frantically, throwing himself onto the bed. He sat down, gripping at the hem of his sweatpants.

“Off. Take ‘em off,” he mumbled, staring up at you with a glint in his eye. Oh, he was doing this shit deliberately, wasn’t he? Why couldn’t he just take them off himself? “Please?”

“Fucking brat,” you muttered. You were in disbelief, in all honesty. Your best friend was a slut. It almost made you imagine what Felix was like in bed, if he’d be good for you or if he’d be an absolute brat like Jisung, or maybe he’d want you to be good for him like Minho did. You leaned forward, gripping his cheeks between your thumb and your index finger. His cheeks squished together comically, but he was still looking at you expectantly. You almost folded when you realized. “You want me to slap you?”

“Fucking- yes,” He groaned, trying to nod frantically, your fingers preventing him from doing so. You pulled your hand back, reaching back and delivering a slap to his round cheek. He immediately reeled with the sensation, bucking his hips up into thin air. “O-Oh. Yeah. Harder, harder, hit me harder-“

“You are so fucked up,” you said, in full shock. Your eyes were wide but you tried to hide it, shaking your head and sighing. You gave him another firm slap to his cheek, the same one, making him whine. “You are so fucked up, Jisung. You like being slapped in the face?”

He looked up at you, a stupid grin on his face. His cheek was smarting red from the abuse. “You’re even more fucked up. You like slapping me-“

You pushed him down by his shoulders, yanking his joggers off with one hand and keeping your other hand on his upper body to keep him still. He immediately yanked at the fabric of his hoodie, and you sighed, releasing your grip on him for him to pull that off too.

Immediately, planes of milky skin were exposed to you, the hinting of abs underneath his skin from gym nights with Changbin making you feel like you could drool. His cock laid hard against his tummy, hard and leaking amidst the hair adorning his pubic region. He was so fucking shameless. He was getting off from you hurting him, and being mean to him, and he didn’t give a fuck about it.

Jisung smiled, revealing his pearly white teeth. He leaned up on his forearms. “Like what you see?”

“Oh my God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Jisung shook his head at your words, still smiling. You rolled your eyes, pulling your t-shirt and sports bra off with ease and revealing your chest. His eyes immediately went down to the exposed skin, his smile dropping. It was your turn to smile. “Maybe if you’d have been good, I’d let you have them in your mouth. But no. You’re just fucking filthy, Jisung.”

Jisung looked up at you, chest heaving and flushed with a deep blush similar to the shocking color on his cheek. He’d started to shift around impatiently against his messy bedding. “Filthy. ‘M- Yeah. Yeah. I am. Sit on my cock now,” You narrowed your eyes at him writhing on the sheets. “Please?”

You scoffed. You wiggled your own joggers off, leaving your underwear covering your core. “You think it’s that easy? Not everyone gets as turned on as you so fucking fast. No, I’m gonna sit on your face and you’re gonna at least try to put those lips to good use. It’s the only thing that’ll make you shut the fuck up.”

Jisung let out a squeal as you crawled up onto the bed, shuffling on your knees until your clothed core was right above his lips. He immediately latched his lips onto your clit, soaking the fabric with his spit while he sucked hard. His hands went up to your ass, gripping tightly - you allowed him to have that small success.

He was a lot more precise than you’d expected, licking over and over again at the fabric until it was sodden and practically falling off of your core. Maybe it was due to his rapper tongue. You’d been trying not to let out noises all the way through, simply letting out some pleased sighs and gasps when his tongue flicked a certain way. The fabric was restricting though, not allowing you to feel his tongue properly.

“There you go, that’s good enough. You can move it to the side now baby,” Jisung nodded between your legs, slender fingers coming to hook into the hem of your underwear and revealing your core. You were briefly shocked he’d even listened to you. It had, admittedly, become wet all from you making out and touching his cock a little earlier, but you’d never admit it if you were to keep up this persona that he so desperately craved. He whined at tasting you properly, wide licks cleaning up the mess between your folds and making your thighs twitch at the sensation.

He was moaning into your core, shifting his hips up as if he was chasing your hole when it wasn’t even above his cock. You heard him mumbling something in between licks and you lifted off, allowing him to speak.

“Just- Just, please, sit on my cock. Please. Look’it,” Jisung’s lips were covered in a clear sheen from your pussy, his eyes wet with tears. He looked thoroughly broken. He hadn’t even made you cum yet, you mused, but in a moment of relent you lifted yourself off of his face and turned to look at his cock. It did look pathetic, actually, laying against his tummy in a pool of dribbling precum and steadily still leaking more. His hands went to grip the sheets, trying to avoid pumping his cock. You felt for him, just a bit, because you didn’t think you had ever seen a cock that wet in your life.

“Oh, baby, look at that,” you falsely cooed, dragging your fingers down to pick up some of the precum on his soft skin. He whined, nodding at your words. You pressed a finger into your mouth, watching Jisung stare at you intently while you hummed at the taste. It didn’t taste of much, just with a bit of a salty aftertaste. “That’s pathetic. Look at all that going to waste, huh?”

“‘S not- Can’t help it,” Jisung mumbled. You’d officially broken him, you thought. Gone was his bratty behavior and it was replaced with watering, big brown eyes and a quivering pouty bottom lip. “Need your pussy. It’s so wet, I know you need it too, I-“

You pressed your finger into the pool of precum again, coating your index and middle finger and pressing it into Jisung’s mouth to effectively shut him up. He moaned around your fingers, tongue swirling around the pads as if he was sucking a cock. You laughed in disbelief, shaking your head.

“Now that’s fucking filthy. Do you like tasting your own cum? That’s pathetic, Sungie,” Jisung moaned at your words, vibrating around your fingers in his mouth. He started to try to babble around your digits, making you pull your hand away from his face.

He licked his lips, panting. “Not cum. Haven’t cummed. It’s just wet ‘cause I need you to sit on it, ‘kay?” You sighed, acting disappointed.

“Hmm, I guess I could have some mercy. You gotta make me cum though, Sungie, or you’re not cumming. Does that sound okay to you?” You shimmied off your underwear, dumping it on the floor next to his clothes.

“Yeah! Yeah! I can make you cum, yep! You just gotta- it’s- sit on it, I mean, will fill you up-“ You moved again, straddling his hips and resting your hands on the hints of his abs, soft skin beneath your palms. You lowered your now naked core over his length, solid and hot in between your folds. You started grinding along his dick, and Jisung looked fit to burst. “Are you- please! I can’t take it anymore, ugh!”

You shook your head. “Fucking brat. Beg.”

“Yeah, please, fuck please! Please, please need your pussy on my cock, please. I know I don’t deserve it, I know I’ve been bad,” Jisung spoke all in one breath, leaning up on his forearms to look at you. Your teasing had now caused fat tears to actually fall from his eyes, making you feel a bit bad. Maybe you had wound him up enough. “Shouldn’t have- shouldn’t have cum to you and Minho, I know, but you- could hear you moaning and I-“

You cut him off, raising a little to grip his length and sinking down onto it in one go. You shut your eyes, clenching them tightly while you adjusted to the size that was now pulsing against your walls. He was thick. The angle made sure that he was stretching out your hole perfectly, not too much to be uncomfortable. It made you let out a pleased sigh. You hadn’t had this privilege with Minho, just sitting there and letting yourself adjust, but then you’d loved it-

Before you could begin moving, Jisung flipped you over, beginning to thrust into you frantically. You jolted at the movement, letting out a loud moan. “Jesus- Jisung!”

“S-Sorry, sorry, no- I need to, fucking hell- gotta cum,” he was fucking into you at a quick pace, babbling about how good you felt around him. He’d grabbed your hips, pulling you up to meet his thrusts while he just used you as his fucktoy, eyes rolling back into his head.

“Y-You filthy fucking boy, look at you. Give you a bit of pussy and you get all fucking delirious, it’s p-pathetic,” You managed to get out. Jisung let out a loud moan at that, hips faltering. “Can’t even fuck me right, can you?”

“Yeah! I can, I can, I’ve had loads of pussy,” Jisung mumbled, shifting his hips a little bit to try and get a better angle. He was working hard to please you, and in all honesty it did feel really good, but he was clearly getting off on being told otherwise. With an extra shift of the angle inside of you, he was pounding into your g-spot, making you falter and groan out loudly. “There. There! Told you, can make- oh fuck- can make it feel good- hnnnnng!”

You could feel the slick slide of his cock into your pussy, thrusting in and out and him moaning louder as he felt it get wetter with your arousal. It was dirty, extremely messy especially as you both worked together, thrusting against each other desperately for release. You gripped his biceps, fingers digging into the muscles as moans started to fall out of your mouth unabashedly.

“Oh God, baby, my baby, gonna cum-“

“Sungie, Sungie, wait, let me…” you reached down with two fingers and started to rub against your clit, thighs twitching with pleasure. You rubbed fast and quick, merciless as you tried to reach your orgasm with your best friend. His thrusts were staccato, uneven, but you rubbing your clit made up for any lost pleasure in the change of tempo.

You quickly felt your high fast approaching, biting up your spine with the energy of a supernova. Domming Jisung like this had turned you on beyond belief, and finally having him put some effort into fucking you - well, you knew it wouldn’t take long. Your fingers were slipping as they rubbed across your bundle of nerves, but you pressed harder into the button and let the ecstasy overtake you.

Your toes curled as you finally let go. You bit into your lip to try not to moan out too loud, but small moans and whimpers still left your mouth at the intense feeling. Jisung had surprisingly hung on to the edge, watching you intently as you came and slowing his hips to a slow grind so that he didn’t cum inside you. You let your hand fall to the side as your orgasm finally subsided, chest heaving and bottom lip bitten raw.

Jisung pulled out, pumping his cock erratically. His breath was heavy, whines falling out as he used your cum as lubricant to let himself orgasm. “Baby, where do I..?”

You smiled. “Can do it on my tits if you want, Sungie.”

He moaned loudly at this, shuffling up to press his cockhead between your tits. It slid around messily with yours and his combined juices, but he quickly started grinding it down against your skin. It only took one, two, three thrusts before ropes of hot cum were flooding from his tip and even landing on your chin, making you stifle a giggle. He was loud, whining and sobbing through his orgasm as if you’d just given him the best thing he’s ever received in his life. You probably had.

He rubbed his thumb over his cockhead, finishing his orgasm before slumping to your side.

“Fuckin’ wow. That was so good, oh my God. You’re totally such a good Dom, like what the fuck!”

You huffed. He really does never shut the fuck up, does he? “Ji, maybe stop talking and get me a towel?”

“Oh! Oh, right, yeah. Totally. I gotchu,” He shot you finger guns before hopping up off the bed, totally not bothered by being fully naked in front of you. He grabbed a small face towel from his drawer - it was surprisingly clean - and came over to you, wiping you delicately. You felt touched that he’d actually wiped you clean. It was Jisung, after all. It wouldn’t have shocked you if he’d licked it up. He stood up afterwards, wiping his now soft cock with a clean part of the towel.

You groaned as you heard your phone chime with a new text, leaning over to grab it from the pocket of your trousers on the floor. Your heart almost stopped beating.

It was Minho. Apparently, his shift had ended, and he’d texted you with a quick ‘come to my room when you’re done’. You gasped. Jisung quickly ushered around the bed with the de facto cum towel to read your phone over your shoulder.

“Oh shit. You totally got in trouble for fucking your best friend.”

You slapped him on the shoulder. “Shut up, Jisung!” You looked back to the text message, and typed a quick ‘sure’. You blushed, anxiety mounting in your stomach. “I hope he’s not mad.”

“Doubt he will be,” Jisung chirped, pulling a clean pair of boxers on. “Your high sex drive and thing for frat boys hasn’t gone unnoticed by any of us, Y/N. He knew what he was getting into by ruining that pussy-“

“Jisung, I hate you. Why did I fuck you again?”

“Because you wanted to see me cry.”

You huffed, pushing past him to put your clothes back on. Your hair was mussed up, and you knew you smelled of sex. Trying to push that thought aside, you quickly shoved your socks back on before going to make out the door.

“Hey!” You turned around to face Jisung. He didn’t even look sheepish, standing there with his hands on his hips and tapping his foot. “Got anything to say to me?”

Rolling your eyes, you gave him a quick “love you, Ji” before leaving his room. You heard him sing-song an affirmation back to you, but you were already making your way into Minho’s room, not bothering to lock the door.

He was laying on his back, dressed more comfortably after work and with his laptop propped in his lap. You tried not to die just looking at him. Minho turned to you upon entry, raising an eyebrow. “Have fun?”

You hopped from foot to foot. “Y-You’re not…?”

“Mad? Why would I be?” Minho shoved his laptop off of his lap. He sat up, stretching nonchalantly before looking at you again. “You thought I’d be mad because you fucked Jisung? Very loudly, may I add?”

“W-Well, it was… this morning, it was-“

“Intimate? I’m aware,” He stood up, stalking towards you. “I think we should get one thing straight. I don’t care who you fuck. Hell, tick all my brothers off your list if it’s what makes you happy, but you better fucking remember that pussy belongs to me.”

“I-“

“Say it.”

“My p-pussy belongs to you, Minho,” You sigh, cheeks blazing, looking at him standing in front of you. He cocked his head to the side.

“Great, because I’m very aware that no one can ever make that pussy feel the way that I made it feel,” He returned to his sitting position on the bed, leaning back. “Fuck my frat brothers. I couldn’t care less. It’s me you’re coming home to at the end of the night - you did say you wanted to be my sex slave after all, right?”

You nodded. “So, you really don’t mind?”

Minho shook his head, a cocky smile on his lips. “Like I said, babe. Tick them all off your list if you want to, but you better be sitting on my cock afterwards telling me all about it.”

Your jaw was officially dropped lower than it ever had been. Why did Minho have to be so fucking hot? You couldn’t cope. You couldn’t fucking breathe. You needed him biblically. Practically rushing towards him, you straddled his thighs easily and attached your lips to his in a desperate kiss. His hands went to your ass as if he’d been expecting it, because he probably had.

Tick them all of your list, though?

Now that sounded like fun.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @queenofthegardengnomes @boomfrogg @hoeinthehouse @msaddictions @sunnyhonie @hizliyuruyen @jyu037 @jouoy @drhsthl @seungincore @jellylver @veedoesntknaur @meloncremesoda @k-poplv @livieloo914 @fekixfmp @fawnpeaks @minnielvr @imastraykidsfan @hanjisung2023 @hoelynecujoh @kyrviu @sxgeofprohets @everydreams-penumbra @chaneomma @kkissreol @secretjj @phtogravi @princelingperfect @personawthai @dirah-h @straykids5star @luvhyux @chuuswifereal @stg110 @cookiesandmilfx @number1seungminstan @starsandrqindrops @poody1608

#juno’s fics ♡#hot bitch summer #stray kids fanfiction #skz fic #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung fic #stray kids smut #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #han jisung x you #hot bitch summer: wanna be your favourite boy

2K notes · View notes

sl8yter · 3 months

Text

3005 - Mühl

Don’t drink when you have an inexplicable yearning for your bestfriend.

Nika Muhl x Fem Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood underneath the basket in the huskies gym. Lost in a daze as a familiar Croation girl was practicing her form. Her concentration left a mark in between her eyebrows and her lips slightly pursed. You had been thinking about how tough two had first met. Starting off as roommates who would speak maybe every other day to doing everything together. When you first started talking to Nika as a friend instead of a roomie, you had acknowledged the girls very obvious beauty. The way her eyes shined when the sun hit them, how whenever she was frustrated her accent would be more pronounced in every syllable, and how she was incredible person and an even better athlete.

Your fall for her was quick and without warning as you had begun to notice the way your body would involuntarily heat up with the smallest contact. Not to mention whenever she was just a little closer to you your heart would pick up and you could hear the blood flowing within you. Without your noticing Nika had stopped when she had realized your out of touch look.

“Hey are you okay?” Concern laced throughout her words.

“Yea sorry I zoned out.” Your response not convincing her as she started her walk towards you giving you a small smile. As she walked closer to the rim, she took out her ponytail and began to talk

“Are you sure? we can go, I was practically done anyways.”

“Sorry, I’m just not feeling a hundred percent today” Not lying but not being completely honest, the feeling of boredom from just catching Nikas rebounds was starting to get to you. You also just wanted an excuse to retreat to your dorm as it was starting to get late and you had an essay due later in the week.

“It’s okay, plus I know you have that paper due soon. Can we go out after you’re done. I kinda wanna get drunk tonight.” She smiles at you with a large grin at her last few words. Her eyes comparable to a puppies.

“I dont know Niks, I kinda just wanna stay in tonight.” Your response causing her to lock you into a tight hug, she moves you side to side as she began to yell please a million times over. Her grasp unrelenting until another girl clad in a UConn practice jersey walked over.

“Twin can you like stop making out with (yn) in the gym, thanks.” Paige spoke as she peeled Nika off of your body. Your face a slight hue of pink due to the hug and Paiges statement.

“See, look at her, poor girl.” She continues to point out the spread across your cheeks. All Paige ever did was tease you about Nika. She was a very observant girl, a skill acquired from years of basketball, so she was quick to deduce that you had a major crush on Nika. Faster than you were able to in fact.

She had offered to put in good word for you and try to “gas you up” to her. But you had declined in fear of rejection. All her past relationships were with men so why would that change now was your mindset.

“Ughh, she doesnt want to go out tonight, and I wanted her-”

“Youre going out tonight. Were actually all going out tonight. I know you have major FOMO too so boom I win.” Paige quickly cuts Nika off.

“Thats actually so unfair. What time?” You ask rolling your eyes, as you can feel a small smile move its way onto your face.

“9, Nikas driving since she offered, be at my dorm by 8:30.” Paige quickly finishes as her coach, Geno, walked into the gym area. Saying her quick goodbyes as she went to follow him.

“See this is why Paige is my twin, cause she always manages to convince you to go out with me.” Nika says smiling at you as she dragged you both out of the gym.

“Thats unfair Niks you know I cant say no to group events.”

“Well thats your fault you should already know to never say no to me.”

“How toxic of you. I dont know how I manage being roommates with such an evil girl.” You joke as she unlocks her car.

“Please, you love this evil girl. I see the way you look at me.”

You scoff at her reply, internally however, your heart racing in your chest. The last few words were dancing on the line of serious and playful banter.

A sudden laugh from her eases your heart however as you look out the window searching the tree line for seemingly nothing. Missing the look she gives you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“WHO WANTS SHOTS?” A drunked Paige shouts right next to your ear as she looks over your shoulder to see a good portion of her teammates. You recoil from the loud shouting, to be honest you don’t even remember arriving.

You look around the bar in search of Nika who had been missing for the better part of the meet. You remember her saying she was going to go the bathroom. In good will you started to make your way towards the bathroom hoping she wasn’t in there dying from what felt like a couple of hundred shots Paige had made the both of you down earlier.

“Yo (yn) wait” The same blonde stops you, gripping your shoulder and harshly turning you around. The alcohol seemed to make her forget her own strength as she quickly patted the area she grasped.

“Drink this, trust me.” She said as she handing you a long shot filled with a clear alcohol.

“What is it?” You pondered familiar with the looks of it, but with Paige you wouldn’t chance it knowing how much she wanted you to confront Nika about your feelings.

“Just trust me, okay? You’ll be more open with her I promise. And if it goes south, then you can take another and you wont even remember how embarrassed you are.” She answered your question with full confidence

Taking turns looking at Paige and the shot, not knowing if it was the alcohol that you had downed earlier finally kicking in or Paiges convincing smile, you had downed the shot quickly recoiling when it had burned.

“Fuck Paige, what is this?” You ask her as your face involuntarily scrunches

“Everybody’s favorite, Everclear” she laughs as she began to push you in the direction of the bathroom. When you had finally reached the door, she had pushed you in, giving you a small smile and thumbs up before locking the door from the inside and quickly retreating. From the outside Paige had found an out of service sign and promptly put it infront of the door before heading back to her teammates table, all while giggling to herself about playing cupid.

From inside the somehow empty bathroom you heard slight hiccups and a sniffle.

“Nika? Is that you?” You ask even though you knew it couldn’t be anyone else.

A few shuffles later from the other side of the large stall, the door opens and reveals a disheveled Nika, who very obviously had too much to drink.

“Take me to yours please” She stumbled out of the stall, collapsing into your arms as she put her full weight on to you. Her body was on fire, you could feel the warmth radiating from off her, it almost felt good if she wasn’t slick with sweat. Her head rested upon your shoulder as you took her back into the big stall, you walking forward as she walked backwards to which she rose her head and looked at you confused.

“I cant right now, Paige made me drink another shot and I can feel it in my legs.” You explained, you would of drove both of you home by now if you didn’t feel a fuzziness erupting from your lower half.

Nika released a big sigh before leaning herself against the wall and sliding down to sit with her head laid back against the wall and her legs fully extended.

“Sit with me” She had demanded without even looking up

“Yea no, that floors dirty.” The alcohol had you speaking without fixing your tone as you came off a little harsh.

“I don’t care I want you to sit with me.” Nika picked her head up as it was heavy to look up at you. The way the light had hit her eyes made them shine in a way that softened you. Without a fuss, you had begun to kneel down to sit next to her without even realizing. Her smile as your back rested against the wall made the grimy floor somewhat bearable.

“You make me feel so full” Nika blurbed out. Her cheeks dusted with a sheen of pink that complimented her tan.

“Mhm, remind me not to let you drink next time we go out.” You replied jokingly, if she had said that comment earlier when you were sober you might’ve exploded on the spot. Luckily the drink had calmed your demeanor and even made you a little braver.

“Actually, you know, like when im with other people. Its different. Empty, you know. Even with people im interested in, they never make me feel the way you do.” The way she stumbled over her words tugged strings in your heart.

“Who like your ex? Obviously Niks, he was kind of an ass”

She chuckles at the thought of her past lover and your obvious distaste for him. Sure he wasn’t that horrible but he only did the bare minimum. And for some reason Nika could never explain unless she was under the influence, whenever he or anybody, would fuck up her first thought was to compare them to you.

“Yea, but everything’s different when it comes to you” She said in a hushed voice, her eyes never moving off of yours. Instinct from basketball or not you relished in her undivided attention. It made you dizzy.

“In what way?” You asked, discreetly shuffling yourself a little closer to her body.

“Fuck everybody but you.” Her response made you smile. Here you were sitting with a drunken Nika who was trying so hard to explain herself to you.

“Fuck em?” You laughed out, her sudden brazen attitude towards the world surprised you. For somebody so level headed like her, she seemed like a teenager trying to find her way.

“Fuck em” She clarified while grabbing your hand. Given, she was usually touchy with you. But it felt different this time. The warmth of her hand had lit a possibility. Taking your chance, you interlocked your fingers with hers, taking your eyes off of her for a moment to fully take in the occasion. The way her hands were mostly soft except for some calluses entranced you. You used your other hand to trace her own. Slowly you felt her slump her head on to your shoulder. Her scent was overwhelming, invading your brain until all you could think of was her and nothing else. Nika was all that mattered.

She looked at you through her eyelashes prompting you to move your head ever so slightly to lock eyes with her.

Maybe it was the alcohol or the way you could smell her perfume but the way she was looking at you in this moment was unmistakable. It was the same look Paige would use to describe you looking at her. But she had slowly sat up, she was close enough that you could feel every little exhale against your face. It was a strange feeling, it felt so weird yet so right. Maybe it was the fear of your friendship breaking that made you turn to look straight ahead. But that feeling was quickly shut down when Nika had softly grabbed the side of your face, with her non dominant hand, making you look at her. Her touch felt like fire against your skin.

“Youre so pretty” Her sudden compliment made you feel even warmer. All her actions made you float. Youre head felt dizzy as you involuntarily looked at her soft plump lips as she spoke once again. Youre throat was dry, opening your mouth to try and talk but she quickly covered your mouth before you could speak.

“I wanna be by your side, but only of you’ll have me” Her confession makes you freeze in your spot, making you quickly sober up. You had started to smell the lingering alcohol that tinged her breath. As much as you would like to accept her confession, she was drunk. You doubted she would remember what she said in the heat of the moment. As your stuck in your thoughts, you feel your head moving down and see her features getting closer.

You stick your hand in between the two of you. Making Nika place her lips against the inside of your hand.

“Youre drunk Niks, let’s talk about this in the morning.” You managed to speak, regretting your actions however as Nika quickly stood up and with glossy eyes she managed to say in a broken voice

“This is so embarrassing, can we just forget I said anything. I don’t wanna lose you as a friend” She looked at you as you followed her up, you grabbed her hands, gently rubbing her knuckles as you assured her

“No, Nika I promise you I want you too. I just cant while you’re drunk. Youre so beautiful and amazing, trust me I want to kiss you so bad, I just cant while you’re drunk. Pretty bad huh, I got an amazing woman trying to kiss me and I refuse” You quickly joke hoping to put her at ease.

She stood there for a second before a small smile appeared with an even smaller tear cascading down her round flushed cheeks.

“Super bad” She replied as she put her arms against your shoulders, leaning her forehead against yours. Swiftly, you pressed a chaste kiss against her cheek before pulling her impossibly closer and hiding your face in her brown hair.

She laughed at your child like behavior but she couldn’t complain since she had longed for a tight hug filled with compassion from you. She didn’t even know she needed it until now. She felt a wave of tiredness wash over her as she whispered in your ear.

“Take me home please. Stay with me tonight”

“Of course”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had blinked and suddenly had woken up with a familiar weight on top of you. Nika was acting like koala on your side as one of her legs lay across your belly and her arm across your front assuring her grip on you. Guessing from the fact that you both laid on the still made bed, you had both crashed as soon as you made it to Nika’s dorm.

With careful wiggling, you had managed to shimmy Nikas arm off of you as you decided to get up and try to surprise her with a good start to her day, a full breakfast. When you tried to lift her leg off of your stomach, she quickly parried by instead straddling you giving you a quick drowsy smile before leaning down to hide her face in the crook of your neck.

“Goodmorning” Her muffled voice vibrated against the skin of your neck, inadvertently making you smile.

“Goodmorning” You said while you wrapped your arms around her back, gently tracing shapes along it.

“So?” She asked

“So what”

“So wheres my kiss” She said trying to be brave but failing as you could feel her lips dance their way up your nape and to your jaw. Not even kissing, just grazing, which somehow made it feel even better.

She stopped right before she touched the corner of your lips to give a loving yet cautious look to ask for permission.

“I didn’t even get a chance to brush my teeth and you wanna kiss me. Just tell me how bad you want me Niks”

A soft giggle erupted from her as she smiled widely and slid off of your body and off of the bed. Her warmth quickly leaving you wanting for more.

“Youre right, I’ll show you after you’re done.” She said as she walked away, her body language very obviously taunting you as she left you in the empty bed.

Sitting up, you chased after her to find her with a toothbrush in her mouth and waving a new toothbrush package in the air before throwing it at you.

“Eager are we?” You tease her, she rolls her eyes at your comment before rinsing out her mouth and standing behind you as you applied toothpaste to your own toothbrush.

“Im gonna make coffee. I wanna talk more about last night” She told you before kissing your cheek and walking off.

You watched her leave in the mirror, admiring her back profile before finishing up your small task. As you walked into the open kitchen the smell of coffee beans hit your nose and one hell of a view hit your eyes. Nika was pouring 2 cups of coffee, one for you and one for her. It was something that you had seen before as you and the Croatian have had countless sleepovers but never in this context. It was something that you could definitely get use to seeing more often.

Walking up to the counter, you grabbed both mugs before heading into the living area and setting them on the coffee table in front of her couch. You turned on the TV and put on the news to a lowered volume setting for some background noise. For some odd reason you were nervous. Your heart was beating a little faster than usual. Even though you already knew what she was gonna say, she liked you. Right?

“Listen about last night.” Nika had started off as she walked around the small table to sit adjacent to you. Your legs touching as she slid closer.

“I like you, like really like you.” Her pronounced really made her accent come out stronger than usual. Her face was serious and her hands were clasped as she looked down at her mug filled with a light brown coffee. She was just as nervous as you were which put you at ease.

“I really like you too Niks. I wanna be with you too. Can I ask you something?” Her demeanor was more relaxed now as you were completely honest with her. A smile plastered across her face at the reciprocated feelings.

“Anything” She had answered

“When did you start liking me?” You had wanted to know since last night. The question was tugging at you. You had wanted to know how much time you had wasted being friends when you could have been in each others arms.

“I dont know the exact time I really realized. But I knew when I just couldnt stop thinking of you, day or night. Even in my dreams you would be there. I would compare everybody to you. You were my standard. Eventually I just realized I wanted to be with you.” She says before taking a sip of her hot drink. Her earnest tone made you go crazy. She was confessing her love for you, it wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t a delusion, it was real life and it felt so good.

“Mhm” was all you could reply with. You were afraid that if you did speak an actual word you would end up being too loud out of pure happiness.

“What about you when did you start liking me.” She had asked back. You looked down at the table for your own cup, grabbing it and watching the way the liquid would sway with every little movement.

“One day, a while back near the start of spring, I forget what I was doing but I felt sad. I felt like it should have been the two of us there. I forgot whatever I was doing, but I never forgot the feeling of missing you. I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. Then when I got back to my dorm, you were there waiting for me, already watching a movie and finishing off the last of my snacks. If it were anybody else I probably would of gotten mad, but then you got up and ran to hug me and asked where I had been and at that moment I felt a warmth. Like the kind that you get when you hug somebody you care for but it was multiplied by 100” You hadnt looked at her your entire speech. You set back down the coffee without even taking a sip. You just needed the focus on something else so you could speak your mind freely. Putting your attention back on Nika you noticed a look you had seen before. The same level of concentration she had while on the court except instead of a fierceness it held a soft look. As if she was taking in every feature across your face and engraving it into her soul.

“Can I kiss you?” She had asked, you smiled at her politeness, before nodding. Without a second between she had quickly leaned forward to press her lips against yours. Slowly, you moved your lips against hers. Taking in the softness of her lips and how she tasted like coffee. Not breaking the kiss, she had sat herself onto your lap as her arms wrapped around your neck ensuring you wouldn’t be able to back out this time. Not that you would.

Your hands found her waist. Firm from constant practice and conditioning, you started to grip her sides with your hands while also pulling her forward making sure your chests were flush against each other. Nika let out a soft groan as she opened her mouth, her nose brushing against your cheek as she went to hide her face in your nape, prompting you to kiss against hers. You kissed up and down her neck, her breath had fastened and she started to get louder in your ear. Her sounds made you grip her even harder as you opened your mouth slightly, you started nipping her. Making sure to leave faint purple and red marks across it. Nika had started to slightly grind on your body, erupting a feeling deep within your stomach before a sudden alarm went off on her phone making her quickly turn around to check it.

“Fuck!” She had yelled, extremely frustrated as she had hopped off your lap.

Stunned for a moment at the fact that your guys session had comed to an abrupt end. You stood up asking her what was wrong. Following her into her room as she threw some items from the drawers into her bag.

“I forgot today was Tuesday, im so so so sorry, I have practice today. Geno will kill me if I dont show up on time” She said quickly before heading back out of the room and grabbing her keys off of the kitchen counter.

“Please please please, be here when I get back.”

“So we can..?” You asked, you wanted to joke with her so she could see the irony in the situation, that and the fact she seemed incredibly stressed out over her coach and being late to practice.

“So we can pick up where we left off obviously. You have a weird thing for getting me to say that I want you.” She laughed as she stood in the door way.

“I just love hearing you say it. Sounds good” You smiled at her, admiring the way her hair was slightly frizzy and how pretty she was even with a bare face. If she wasn’t a basketball star she could have easily been a model.

“Okay, ill make sure to tell you just how much I want you when I get back, but you gotta be here babe” She had begun to tease you back, after giving a chuckle at her remark, she stole a quick kiss from you before walking down the dorm buildings hallway.

“I’ll be here, don’t take too long Mühl” You had said down the hallway. She turned around, and suddenly started bolting down the hallway. You didn’t even have a second to react before she kissed you in front of her dorm.

“I don’t know I suddenly feel kinda sick. Im going to text Geno that im going to get the doctor to treat me. Go to the bed. Ill be there in a second.”

Without saying a word, you swiftly turned around and made your way down the dorm and turned into Nikas large room. Sitting on her bed before hearing the door close.

“Yea, im going to see a doctor sorry Coach, yea her name is Dr. (yln). I will, thanks bye.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay W ending once again. Going to write the 2nd part to this later. Maybe post it in 2-3 days. This was my longest post yet brudda.

Send in some requests pretty please. Im out of ideas and had writers block before pushing this baby out at like 1 AM 🙏.

Also W you if you got the multiple references in this fic.

#nika muhl x reader #nika muhl fanfic #nika mühl #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn lives #Spotify #nika muhl smut

246 notes · View notes

cakelitter · 1 month

Text

Apple Of My Eye Older! Leon x Fem! Reader (oneshot)

warnings: angst, fingering, oral (f recieve), p in v, daddy kink, makeup sex

summary: Leon and reader get into their first argument, but Leon apologizes in his own way.

words: 3.1k

a/n: i'm writing so much older Leon fics but this man lives in my head rent fucking free omg

Everything is going to shit.

Words were said, things were done, that all cut through you like a knife. This is your first actual argument, not just a simple misunderstanding or a silly disagreement. But a full-on fight.

To rewind, you and Leon were supposed to have a nice dinner date, romantic and sweet. Something the two of you haven’t had the chance to do since he’s busy all the time. You got ready, all dolled up and looking the best you’ve ever looked. You wore his favorite dress, painted your nails his favorite color, put on the kind of make up he likes. You wanted this to be special, a night to remember.

But he forgot, leaving you sitting at that table in the restaurant for an hour and 37 minutes to be exact, like an idiot. No text explaining why he was late, and wouldn’t pick up his phone either. By the time he arrived you had already downed most of the bottle of wine the two of you were supposed to share, and was feeling full from the sympathetic stares the waiter and other guests were giving you.

Worst part, he didn’t even apologize. No “Sorry baby, I had something come up at work” no nothing, just sat down, looking at you like what he did was normal. You decided to suck it up and continue on with the night. Trying to be the bigger person even though he’s twice your age and your size. Sure, you still had a bit of an attitude, some short answers, and not clawing to get closer to him like usual, but you have the right to.

Apparently not, cause he decides to get all pissy with you. Giving you glares from across the table, and in general being petty. It was clear to you, and to everyone around, that your nights wasn’t going great. You both end up leaving the restaurant after 30 minutes of his arrival, neither of you finishing the meals you ordered.

The car ride back to you shared apartment was quiet, but the tension was no joke. Instead of the normal sexual tension you both experience after these usual dates, or even just being around each other in general. There was the tension that made your heart sink and your throat tight. His eyes fixated on the road, both hands on the wheel gripping it firmly till his knuckles turned white, instead of having one in between your thighs like usual. You can’t tell who’s ignoring who, or who is more pissed at the other person more. Your mouth didn’t utter a peep, when shaky breaths and pleading words should be escaping it at this point. You hoped that once you get home, the two of you would have cooled down a bit and would talk it out like you always do.

Yet again you were wrong. As soon as you arrived back home, he slams the door behind the two of you. And starts to speak through gritted teeth.

“What he fuck was that whole fuss about?”

Turning around, you don’t know if you’re more shocked at the tone he is addressing you with or the fact that he genuinely doesn’t see what he did wrong.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe the fact that you left me there for almost two hours without explaining even why?!”

He scoffs, fucking scoffs. “What, am I supposed to give you reports on everything I do now? What I’m doing and who I’m with?”

“Leon, you can not be serious right now. All I wanted was for you to simply give me a heads up telling me that you were gonna be late.”

“Well, I was clearly busy. I’m sorry that I have a real job and responsibilities that I have to deal with.” Why is he acting like you don’t know that? like this is new information to you? In the past 2 years of your relationship, you have understood how demanding Leon’s job is, and have always been patient.

Going on missions for days and not being able to contact you. You get it, he should focus on his mission and getting home safe. Canceling plans with you last minute cause he was needed at his work. That’s fine, he can’t control it anyways.

But he always made it up for you. Taking the next day off to spend time with you, consoling you, spoiling you with gifts if he couldn’t be there physically with you. He has never gotten angry at you or talked to you in this tone before. He has never refused to apologize, and always tried to reach a solution. But now he is choosing to argue with you.

“You know how much I respect your job and how patient I am when it comes to this topic. But I can’t always brush off the feeling of neglect sometimes.”

“Well maybe you need to stop being so fucking needy.”

Ouch.

He always had loved it when you were needy though, loving the way you’d sit on his lap and shower him with kisses as he worked, loving how you needed to be close to him on the couch while watching a movie, loving the pout you do when he leaves for another mission.

You compose yourself, and start thinking of why he’s acting this way. Is he having a bad day? Did he get bad news before he came to see you?... Is he done dealing with you?

The last possibility makes your heart drop as you try to shoo that evil thought away, but it sticks like cigarette smoke on clothes.

“Are you having a bad day? Is there something bothering you?” your voice is gentle and understanding, trying to deescalate the situation. But he replies with the same harsh tone.

“Yeah, I’m tired of constantly dealing with your bullshit.”

…

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair and looking away from your face. You stand there, not knowing what to do. Feeling so stupid, just staring at him, praying he tells you that he didn’t mean that, that this was all a mistake. To pull you in his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear like he always does when you’re upset.

He was always so gentle with you, from his actions to his words. Scared to be too rough with you while play fighting as if you’re going to break. He constantly reminded you of how much you meant to him, how much he missed you on missions, and how much he couldn’t wait to be with you again. His sacred treasure, the apple of his eye, the love of his life.

But now, it all came crashing down with the venomous words he’s saying. Dropping your glass welded heart from what feels like a 13-story building, then proceeding to run over whatever survived. The burning sensation in your throat is starting to get hard to ignore, you try fight it off but to no use.

“What, are you gonna cry now like you always do?”

And that’s all it takes for tears that have been brimming in your eyes to finally break free dropping down to your cheek as your lip quivers. Yes, you are crying like you always do. Feeling so humiliated, tears blur your vision as you turn around and walk to your room shutting the door behind you.

You’re so upset. Sadness mixing with anger creating a disastrous cocktail causing your throat to burn like hell. And to make things worse, you can’t even go to the person that knows how to comfort you best, cause they are the reason why you feel like this in the same place.

Laying down on your side of the bed, tears are practically soaking your pillow. You’ve been crying for what feels like hours now and you’re sure your eyes are going to be swollen as fuck the next day. Multiple sobs, tears, and sniffles later, you fall asleep. Pass out is a better word for it actually. Only to be awaken by a knock on the bedroom door. You ignore it, and close your eyes again.

“Baby, please, let’s talk.”

You ignore again, hoping he takes the hint and leaves you alone. But he doesn’t. He opens the door slowly and looks over to your huddled figure laying on the bed. You’re clearly cold, legs tucked close to your chest, and your face nuzzled into your pillow as much as possible. He sighs, walking over to the bed, and lays down next to you with you back facing him. He stares at you for a bit, knowing that you’re not asleep, he knows your breathing a little too well. He scooches over placing an arm around you, and places a gentle kiss on top of your head.

“I’m sorry baby, I was being an asshole.” He whispers, planting another kiss.

You don’t reply, but you do open your eyes. Noticing that, he continues.

“I was just stressed from all the bullshit going on at work and… took it out on you. It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have done that.”

…

“Those hurtful things, I don’t mean them. God, I don’t mean a single word I said.”

That last sentence was all it took for you to start crying again. But this time, those arms are around to pull you in. He turns you around and places you against his chest as you let it out. An arm is behind your back rubbing up and down soothingly, while the other helps getting your hair out of your face.

“Shhh it’s okay.”

“I know sweetheart, I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

Are words he repeats in a tone juxtaposing the one he was using a couple of hours ago. This is the Leon you’re used to. Calm, and feels like home. The warmth of his body helps warm you up and the arm rubbing your back, helps ease your breathing back to normal. After a few minutes you calm down, and look up at him. He smiles kissing your forehead.

“Was Daddy mean to you earlier?” he asks and you nod.

“Want him to kiss it better?” you nod again.

He smiles softly and starts tenderly kissing your lips, your forehead, cheeks, and jaw. Each kiss was full of affection and pure sincerity. You started sensing that warm feeling in your chest, heart beat regulating, and lips curling up into a smile as he kissed every single inch on your face. You’re not sure you quiet understand the science behind this technique and how he can manage to lift up your mood with a few kisses and his heart-warming voice. But it somehow always works.

However, can’t tell if it was the sudden change in your mood or his hot breath and soft lips on your face, but the wholesome warm feeling in your heart switched at one point, to heat pooling between your thighs. And soon enough you started being needy again.

“Daddy. Want more.” You muttered, making him stop momentarily to respond.

“Want what baby, you need to tell daddy what to do so he can help you.”

You start feeing a little shy to word it out for him. Normally he would keep you being a needy squirmy mess till you say it yourself. But he was already mean to you today, so it’s only fair to help his girl out.

“Want Daddy to kiss you somewhere else?”

“Mhm”

“Where?”

“My pussy.”

How could he say no to that face. Lips puffy, eyes glossy, and lashes wet from your tears. Humming in agreement, he places one final kiss on your lips and moves down between your thighs, spreading them open for him. You were still wearing your dress, so he was immediately greeted with the lace panties you wore for him. Running his finger up your cunt, he can already feel the dampness through the thin fabric.

“Damn baby, you wore all of this for me? God, I don’t deserve you.”

He says planting an opened mouth kiss on your clothed clit making you whine. Bunching up your dress, he grabs the hem of your panties sliding them down and shoving them in his pocket. He runs his tongue up your slit, and it feels warm as he tastes you. Spreading your cunt open with his fingers, his mouth starts sucking on your clit as shaky heavy breaths escape your mouth.

His blue eyes meet yours as he continues guzzle your pussy up while occasionally fucking his tongue into you. He laps up every single fluid that comes out, appreciating every drop. Eventually, he rewards you with one of his fingers penetrating inside of you and fucking into you at a slow pace as he pulls the hood of your clit back and continues sucking on your bundle of nerves.

Moments later he removes his mouth off of you, wanting to watch your expression as he sticks another finger into you. Your mouth opens slightly as a broken sound leaves your throat. His fingers were thick, much thicker than yours. The rough skin on them making your back arch at the sensation.

“So fucking pretty.”

You can’t tell if he’s addressing you or your dripping pussy as your eyes flutter shut when his palm makes contact with your cunt. He starts moving his digits in and out of you, mouth finding it’s way back to your clit once more. Your hips start squirming in place as he uses his other hand to hold you down in place. His digits then begin scissoring you open while his tongue flicks your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Amidst the intense feeling of pleasure, you grab his hair pulling his face towards your dripping cunt even more. Grabbing Daddy’s hair and not being gentle with it is against some of the rules the two of you have established. Leon is going above and beyond to make sure he doesn’t go bald, avoiding it like it’s the plague. Hence, pulling it, is something he would normally spank you for, fuck you roughly while pulling yours to make sure you always remember. But he’ll let it pass this time.

You start babbling, the pleasure fogging up your field of vision, and the ability to form a coherent sentence, but he knows your having a good time.

“Daddy, can I please cum?”

“Do whatever you wanna do sweetheart.” As soon as you get his permission, you reach your peak with a squeal, letting go of his hair and clutch instead on the white sheets beneath you. His fingers continue moving, easing your way back down from your high. And he eventually removes his fingers out of you, placing a final kiss on your clit before looking up at your blissed out expression.

He gets up, ready to run you a nice bath to relax, but you refuse.

“Want you.”

You say looking up at him. He smiles and replies.

“I don’t know baby. Don’t think it’s fair that you get punished for not behaving and I don’t.” You whine, a pout forming on your lips. Even though you just came, you fear that you’ll never satisfied till he’s deep inside you.

You tug on his shirt, eyes pleading, batting your lashes at him the way you do, decreasing is chances of saying no to zero.

“It’s okay, I forgive you. Plus, that boner of yours looks pretty painful.” You retort, pointing at the way his dick is begging to be released out of his jeans.

“You sure?” You eagerly nod, and before you know it, your hands are already undoing his belt. He helps you out, taking his pants and shirt off while you strip out of your dress as well.

“How do you want me?” he asks as the two of you sit naked on the bed.

You put your finger on your chin, squinting your eyes as you think.

“On your back.”

He complies, resting his head against the pillow as you crawl over you him, placing a gentle peck on his mouth. Your legs straddle him, grabbing his dick and rubbing it up and down your leaky slit. He grits his teeth, eyes fixated at your motion before you start nudging it as your entrance.

You drop down on his length, making the two of you moan in unison as you bottom out on his dick, his hands involuntarily reaching over to grab the fat on the side of your hips. You don’t take too long to adjust thanks to his fingers warming you up earlier, and soon enough you start bouncing.

Placing a hand on his chest to balance yourself as you increase the pace while occasionally grinding your hips on his skin to get more friction on your clit. One of his hands leave your hips, making its way to your lips as you take two of his fingers into your mouth. He groans at the view in front of him.

“Fuckkk, such a good fucking girl.”

Moments later however, you start getting tired. Poor thing, doing all the work by yourself. You were always destined for princess treatment anyways.

“Getting tired?” he asks through heavy breaths, and you mindlessly nod.

Grabbing your hips once more, he plants his feet on the bed and grabs you pulling your body closer as he starts drilling into you. Your head falls back, all of that sadness you experienced before disappearing with each thrust of his hips. His dick feels amazing inside of you, hitting all of the sweet spots with each move.

The familiar sense of release starts approaching. The sound of skin slapping fills the room as you start chanting “daddy” over and over. You don’t even need anything from him, but he’s all your mind can think about.

“I’m right here, cum for me.” And you do. Your body convulses as sweet release takes over you. Leon moans from how tight your walls are gipping him. Dick throbbing inside of you as he fucks you through your release and starts chasing his. Picking up the pace even more, he feels himself getting closer and closer to his own climax.

“Where do you want it baby?” he asks through greeted teeth. You mind is complete mush at this point, completely and utterly cock drunk. “Inside please.” Look at you, still using words like please and thank you even in this state.

He was hoping you would say that, he doubts he’ll make it in time to pull out anyways. Leon’s releases washes over his as he spurts his cum all over your walls, while crashing his lips into yours. You kiss him back, moaning as you feel so full and warm from the inside. His hips slow down and eventually reach a stop, and both of your bodies relax. Lips separating, you stare into each other’s eyes for a bit, one of his hands runs through your hair delicately, before cupping your cheek. You tilt your head, resting its weight on his palm as he strokes your face with his thumb.

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

banner by @/anitalenia

#leon #leon kennedy #resident evil #death island leon #leon x reader #leon x you #cakelitter #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #re6 leon #vendetta leon #fanfiction

364 notes · View notes

kenmakodz · 2 months

Text

it's hard :/

── .✦ yuuta x reader.

syn: sorcerer!yuuta has been neglecting doctor!reader in their relationship recently.

angsty angst, swearing, implications of a breakup, gn reader.

take everything from me, don’t care ‘bout this money,

you didn’t miss the way yuuta’s eyes glazed over, a reflection of the ring you just tugged off your finger shining back at you. it was a beautiful, princess-cut ring, with a big fat gemstone in the middle.

“it’s my promise to you”, he said.

“that i’ll stick by your side. forever”, he said.

he said a lot of things, didn’t he?

the ring never left your finger since that day, your first anniversary. he couldn’t have been more proud to be your boyfriend, parading you around like the two of you had just gotten engaged. holding your hand out towards your mutual friend, maki, as if you were royalty. of course, she played her natural indifferent facade, yet gossiped with you later on about how the hell he could’ve afforded that.

you don’t miss the way he flinches when it’s slammed onto the marble countertop, the palm of your hand covering where it’s sat.

“your promise, to me huh? what a joke, okkotsu.”

i just need you by me, need you right beside me.

“okkotsu…?” he shakily lets out, his voice merely higher than a whisper. he was scared to speak even half a tone louder, scared that you’d be caught like a deer in headlights and run off.

“really, that’s what you’re calling me now?”

as his final question leaves his mouth, he’s left staring back at you as a laugh he’s never heard before escapes your mouth. it’s not your normal, sweet, beautiful laugh. no, it’s something sinister- something laced with hate.

“what do you expect?!”

another laugh comes from you, almost as though you have gone completely manic. if he squinted, though, your pupils weren’t blown. you knew exactly what you were doing. it was simply a breaking point.

“you never put in any effort anymore! why should i address you with love in my heart, when i barely even get a ‘hello’?”

you throw your hands up into a shrugging position, causing him to flinch once more as he watches them fly right back down onto the ring. his head is in his hands now, and a long, deep breath is had before he formulates his next response.

“y/n, i love you.” brows furrowed, his gaze flicks down to your hands on the countertop, before reluctantly raising to make contact with your own.

… really?

before you can even take a breath and begin your next quip towards him, he continues. his tone isn’t angry, nor is it upset. you’re usually very good at pinpointing yuuta’s emotions, why is it so difficult now?

i remember watching the sunset, my world, it got darker

my life, is it done yet? wrap it up like a spider.

“ever since our two friend groups formed into one, when i saw you from the first time, i’ve loved you. ever since those same friends planned a picnic and we were the only ones who actually showed up, i’ve loved you. ever since the night we went to the beach and i watched you pick through sand for hours looking for sea glass, i’ve loved you. through the countless nights we’ve spent driving around going absolutely nowhere, i’ve loved you. it’s always been you, ever since i met you, and you want to throw it all away?”

the smallest, almost unnoticeable glimmer of hope spreads through his face, as if he’s gripping onto his final life force.

you missed it, for the very first time.

“don’t guilt trip me, please. you know that’s not what i’m doing.” you sigh, almost getting angry at yourself. a world of guilt is tumbling down on top of you; you shouldn’t be feeling like this, he’s been neglectful. you know giving into him is wrong, just like it always has been in the past.

why are you letting him get to your head again?

he’s hurt, and that you don’t miss. his left hand starts to tug at the chain around his neck, which holds his matching ring. it didn’t fit when he got it for himself, and the two of you constantly forget to get it resized. so, putting it on a necklace was the next best option.

i know that it’s hard to be with me.

and i’ve been trying to hard to be what you need.

“i’m not guilt tripping you, i’m trying to make you see my side! i know i haven’t given you much attention, and i know it’s my fault, but you know how taxing being a sorcerer is! for fucks sake, y/n, your everyday life is filled with aiding to them! it’s not an excuse, and i know that, but just because life has been hard lately isn’t a reason to throw four years away!” he allows his tone to rise, to let his raw emotion bleed through, which he almost never does. sure, the two of you have gotten into ‘fights’ before, but never in his life has he raised his voice at you. you deserve better than that, he thought. he never wants to take his anger out on you.

you shove the ring into your pocket, and turn on your heels, finished with the conversation. he isn’t hearing you, and frankly, you don’t want to hear him either.

yuuta almost goes to grab your arm, plead for you to stay, practically get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness if that’s what it came to. but something inside him told him to let you go, let you clear your head. he loathes leaving things unresolved. the nights with you in the guest room, and the side of the bed where you usually sleep being cold. the nights where he stays up staring at the ceiling instead of being fast asleep with you in his arms. he hates it. but this time, he lets it happen.

i had to take a walk, i’m nervous, wonder when you’re coming back. and i can feel the distance growing, was it something that i said?

⤷ © kenmakodz

210 notes · View notes

kotton-kandy953 · 2 months

Text

━ 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚆𝙴𝙰𝙻𝚃𝙷𝚈

➛ yandere!shoto todoroki x fem!reader

CHAPTER ONE ━ INTRODUCTIONS

2,036 WORDS

⤷ ❝ 𝕾𝖔 𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑

me, Shoto,"

Your mother smiled softly as she began asking the young man various questions.

You glanced over at your mother and father then sighed. You hated being here, you'd rather be at home than some formal family introduction.

Your subconscious began to tune out the unnecessary chatter around you. It wasn't as if you cared if this meeting were to go good or bad.

My parents are always trying to tell me what to do. What the hell do they not understand about me being an adult? You tried to mask your anger with a fake smile, but it was hard to keep up the front.

Your parents M/n and F/n L/n sat on your side, kindly making conversation with the richest, most intimidating family in all of Japan: the Todoroki's.

They specifically sat who we came here for, the youngest son of theirs, Shoto Todoroki, across from you. Great.

If you were to describe him, Shoto, by appearance, you would say "split in half." It was as if his right side was his mother and the left was his father.

Another thing about Shoto was that you couldn't help but notice how stoic his personality was. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but you've never met anyone so void of emotion like him.

When his cold, heterochromic, eyes made contact with yours you couldn't tell what emotion he was feeling then.

Is this guy seriously going to be my... my future husband? You pressed your lips together as you broke eye contact with Shoto.

Despite everything that you have mentioned so far, you found Shoto a very attractive young man; Although you wouldn't admit to that directly in his face.

Moving onto his family; There was his father, Enji Todoroki, also know as Endeavor, Japan's number one hero. It felt like every time he gave you a glance he was judging you. It made you even more nervous than before.

His mother, Rei Todoroki, was a kind, soft spoken woman. The complete opposite of Shoto's father.

The Todoroki's are... You glanced at Shoto then looked back down, something...

But you felt like you didn't have any room to judge here. Not all families are perfect, especially ones that are popular among the media, but seriously, there was something off-

"-Y/n would have to transfer to UA this coming school year?" Your father asked, catching your full attention.

Your lips parted in shock, What the hell were they talking about!? You looked over at your mother whom sat closest to you.

I only tuned them out for a few minutes!

No one noticed your change of demeanor, no one except Shoto.

Actually, ever since your family entered the room he has been stealing glances from your figure.

In contrast of what you thought about him, he found every aspect of you perfect.

Leaning in close to your mother, you whisper, "What do you mean, 'transfer to UA...?'" You cut your eyes at her with a frown. You didn't understand why they didn't tell you long before this!

"Oh, Y/n, sweetie, it must've slipped your mind, haha! We've been talking about this for months!" Your mother forced a fake smile onto her face as she pushed the lie through her lips.

'Sweetie?' She never calls me that. What the hell is she on about...?

You and your mother exchange glances with one another before you respond to her lie with yet another, "Oh... oh yeah, we have."

Your father then butted in, "We're going to have Y/n's dormitory set up tomorrow."

Tomorrow!? You almost shouted.

"Y/n is almost done packing up her things, actually."

You nodded, These bitches can't go two minutes without lying...

The parents in the room proceeded to converse amongst themselves once again, leaving you and Shoto to stare at each other in awkward silence once more.

Shoto noticed your nervous fidgeting, wanting to say something but he just couldn’t get his mouth to open.

After about 20 minutes of talking, your and his mother and father decided to leave the room so you both could get to know each other better.

You visibly frowned when your mother left your side, Their off to go fucking yap again... you thought angrily.

You peered up at Shoto, trying to tell by his body language how he felt at the moment. But to your avail he was harder to read than you thought.

All he did was sit across from you with a blank expression on his face. Was he thinking of something to say to start a conversation?

Trying to catch his gaze, you fiddled with your fingertips nervously.

"Uhm, Todoroki—“

"-Call me Shoto," He stopped your sentence, "since you will be my fiancé in the near future."

You stiffened at the word "fiancé."

You hated how you barely even knew this man but you and he are going to be sharing the title of fiancé.

It was like a spell your parents have placed upon you, cursing you both of being with each other until one of you die.

You began thinking of something to start a conversation with him, but what could you possibly talk about? He has no social media nor obvious interests.

Is his whole personality just being Mr. Perfect-

"-Would you like for me to address you as your first name as well?" Shoto suddenly asked, taking you by surprise.

You weren't expecting him to be the one to talk first, "Uh, Sure."

You reach to shake his hand, he glanced from your face down you your hand reaching across the table.

He reached out and grabbed onto yours firmly before you both simultaneously pulled away.

You failed to notice how he looked at his hand as if he was amazed or something. When you looked up at him again he had the same expressionless face as before.

His dead silence was very unsettling for you. The way his heterochromic eyes never ceased to staring at the table.

Was he... nervous?

What else would explain his quiet and reserved demeanor. Then again, he was harder to read than a foreign language.

Maybe he's just an introvert and hates being in social situations... you thought to yourself, honestly, I can relate.

As you were strategizing how you would start up a conversation with the seemingly dry male, he just couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He just found you very... interesting.

He couldn't explain it.

"Y/n," He spoke again, and you jumped slightly in surprise. "Ye- Yes, Shoto?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

Holding in our to you, he then proceeded to speak, "Could we exchange phone numbers?"

"I am aware that our parents are in contact with one another, but they haven't given me your contact information yet."

You thought about it for a second before handing him your unlocked cell phone, "Yeah, of course."

After a few moments you both swapped back phones and sat in that damn silence again.

Did he run out of questions or something? You cut your eyes at him, well I shouldn't be talking. I haven't said shit until he spoke first.

It wasn't long until both the Todoroki's and L/n's entered the silent room again.

"Well it was very nice having you all, Mr. and Mrs. L/n," Mrs. Todoroki gave a small smile as she shook your parents' hand's.

You and Todoroki stood up from your seats and said your goodbyes until you and your parents were in the car.

"Finally that shit's over with," your mother sighed as she slammed the passenger seat door. Your father turned up the cold AC in the hot car as he said, "But at least we've gotten one step closer to our goal."

He glanced up at the rearview mirror, making eye contact with you, "We just need that Shoto boy to marry our Y/n."

You diverted your gaze from your father's to the window. The Todoroki family's home growing farther and farther away in the distance.

The Todoroki's were pretty decent people... you shot dagger into the back of your parents' heads, They're the problem.

"I knew they'd love Y/n!" Your mother chimed as she pulled out a cigarette, "Her quirk is somewhat similar to that brain-dead son of their's. And transferring her to UA will be a breeze with their help."

"Then once they're married, all that money will be ours!" Your father stopped at a red light and looked back at you, "Isn't that right, Y/n?"

You nodded silently, not caring for their stupid rambling.

You had absolutely no say in any of the events building up to today despite being a grown woman.

Your parents are money-hungry sharks willing to do anything to get some change.

When you were still in elementary school, you overheard your parents plotting to sell your older brother before he ran away.

And allegedly got himself murdered.

But you refuse to believe that it wasn't your parents doing. Despite lacking solid proof or evidence.

With that in mind, you still have no idea how your parents got in contact with the Todoroki's.

You also don't know why they still believe you give a fuck about them.

You only still live with them because they refuse to let you out of their sight in fear of you running away like your deceased brother.

They're going to have a rude awakening when they find out that UA has a dorm-only policy, You smirked to yourself as you scrolled through the UA University website.

You silently looked through the website until suddenly receiving a text from an unknown number.

unknown

It's Shoto

At the last text it finally clicked, you both exchanged numbers.

>> contact name changed to "Shotodoroki" <<

you

Did you need anything ?

shotodoroki

no, I was just making sure this was the right number

You frowned.

That was a waste of time.

「 EARLIER ᡣ𐭩 」

After your family had left the Todoroki family home, Shoto grabbed his things and began walking out of the house.

"Where are you going, Shoto?" His father asked sternly.

Shoto didn't even give Enji a passing glance as he spoke, "I came here to meet the L/n's. I did as you asked and now I'm going home."

Shoto put his shoes back on and opened the front door. His father was about to shout at his son before Rei quickly calmed him down.

Shoto shut the door behind himself without bothering to look back. He has never fully forgiven his father for what he's done, even after all of these years.

Shoto only agreed into going to his home again because he heard that his mother would be present.

He couldn't stand being alone in room with his father.

Getting into his car and slamming the driver seat door shut, Shoto drove back to college.

The only place he could truly call his "home."

He parked his car in the shade to block the hot rays of the summer sun. The campus seemed so dead when school was out for summer break, but it made no difference in his eyes.

He only had one on his mind at the moment.

Grabbing his phone out of his pocket, Shoto started texting an unregistered number in his phone.

>> contact name changed to "Y/n" <<

you

Immediately after sending the text he thought, Was that too vague?

you

It's Shoto

He waited no time for a response back. He desperately wanted to have a conversation with you.

Once reading your last text, he failed to think of a way to respond. So instead, he made up the excuse about verifying your number.

Knowing you'd believe it anyway.

Shoto got out of his car and shut the door behind himself.

It won't be too long until Y/n moves into her dorm here, He thought while locking his car door and walking away.

But that doesn't matter right now.

I know where she lives, anyway.

Back to Title Page?

Proceed to Chapter Two?

149 notes · View notes

wonusite · 2 years

Text

(Not) A Gentleman

❝ Your boyfriend is the sweetest man alive—a perfect gentleman. However, you’re determined to show him that he doesn’t always have to be a gentleman. ❞

pairing: lee seokmin x female reader

genre: established relationship au, smut

word count: 4.2k

warnings: seokmin literally invented the word simp, big dick!seokmin, daddy kink, slight breeding kink, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, begging, overstimulation

a/n: this is for brookie and tulip nonny! thank you for making this happen! love you both <3 based on this and this. minors dni!

“Okay, you have to be lying.”

You purse your lips, swiveling the wine glass in your hand to avoid eye contact. “I’m not.”

Embarrassing as it was to admit (even to your best friends), it was true that you hadn’t had sex since you and your boyfriend officially got together. Technically it hadn’t even been that long. It wasn’t unheard of for people to take things slow. But even you had to admit Seokmin had the pace of a snail.

Seungkwan looked completely appalled while Jihoon and Jeonghan could only gawk at you like you’d grown another head. You awkwardly clear your throat and take a large drink of the wine you’d been nursing all night. It’s not like you meant to say anything, but when the conversation of sex lives came up, you were left with no choice.

“Seokmin is literally obsessed with you.” Jeonghan scoffed. “How can you two not have done anything yet?”

“Maybe he’s shy.” Jihoon says with a gentle shrug of his shoulders, eyebrows still twitching with confusion.

“The same guy who told Vernon he was engaged to Y/N so he would stop flirting with her is shy?”

You all laugh at the memory. It happened only a little over a year ago. Seokmin still hadn’t asked you out at the time, but there was something there. He had invited you a party where you met a lot of his friends from back home. The night had gone smoothly until he saw that his old friend was getting a little too comfortable with you.

“What if…” you swallow thickly, the wine forcing out your biggest insecurities. “What if he’s not attracted to me?”

For a moment it’s silent, then your friends let out collective cackles that have you scowling at them. You allow them to act like the drunken fools before demanding to know why they found your insecurities so funny.

“It’s just that—” Seungkwan cuts himself off with an amused wheeze. “There’s no way Seokmin doesn’t find you attractive.”

“He gets hard any time you wear something that shows off your legs.” Jeonghan pointed out as he went to grab the wine bottle on your coffee table.

“It’s true. I’ve seen it.” Jihoon confirms with a drunken giggle.

You furrow your eyebrows. If attraction wasn’t the problem, then what was?

“Okay, so how do I get him to fuck me?”

Jeonghan chokes on his wine while Jihoon lets out another round of giggles. Seungkwan is the only one calm enough to answer you. “I’ll help you, but he can’t know I told you what I’m about to say.”

After making you swear on everything you hold dear, your friend finally tells you the secret to making the gentleman you call your boyfriend snap.

“So, here’s what you do…”

You’ve been out on dates with Seokmin plenty of times, but somehow you still got butterflies as if it was the first time. Everything about dating him feels like new and exciting. You even spend what seems like hours picking out the perfect outfit and getting ready to look just right for him despite knowing that your lovely boyfriend doesn’t care what you wear. He’s just happy to be with you.

The overnight bag you packed rests on your bed, and just the sight of it leaves you feeling giddy. Again, it’s not the first time you’re spending the weekend with Seokmin, but you still feel a jittery excitement whenever you do. It’s packed neatly with all the things you needed. Including some more enticing pajamas.

Part of the reason you also feel these unwavering butterflies is because tonight you were determined to fuck your hot boyfriend. Your lovely friends had helped plan it all out, and they were adamant that you had to keep your cool. It was harder than expected because all you wanted was to get your hands on Seokmin’s cock.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts. You swallow nervously, hands smoothing over your outfit. The new lingerie set you bought is snugly resting against your skin underneath the pretty dress you chose. Psyching yourself up, you grabbed your things and headed to the door.

Don’t make it obvious like you always do!

Seungkwan's words kept echoing in your head, and you have to force yourself to stay calm as you opened the door. You suck in a breath when you saw Seokmin dressed in a white button down shirt that accentuated how big his upper body was and black fitted dress pants. In that moment, all you could think about was how insanely lucky you are.

“Wow.”

You blink back into reality only for your heart to lurch when you see Seokmin staring at you like you’re some goddess. Which, to be fair, to him you pretty much are.

“You look so gorgeous. I can’t believe you’re all mine.” Seokmin’s voice is so full of awe and affection that your knees nearly buckle.

Seokmin grins when you bashfully touch the underside of your jaw. “I should be saying that to you. You’re so handsome that I just—” Just want to give you the suck of your life. “Just can’t handle it.”

His pretty laugh fills your ears as you suddenly feel your duffel bag being taken out of your hands. You furrow your eyebrows as you boyfriend slings it over his shoulder. “Babe, I can carry my own things—”

“I know, but as long as I’m around you won’t have to.”

You can’t really argue with his sweet words, especially since you know you won’t win. Seokmin has a strange way of getting you to back down with his placating actions, and you still can’t understand how you give in so easily every time.

Seokmin smiles fondly when he sees a pout forming on your face. “If you really want to hold something then here.”

It’s so stupid and corny how he holds out his beefy arm at you, but you’re so disgustingly endeared by him that you grab his arm anyway and follow him out the door. His triumphant grin makes a smile of your own form on his face.

When you get outside, Seokmin stops you before you can open the passenger door. He pulls the door open before unexpectedly lifting you and placing you on the seat. You feel your face burning as he gentle sets you down as if you’re made of glass.

“There’s a puddle.” He explains as he presses a sweet kiss to your temple. “I know those are your favorite heels.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond as he closes the door and gets into the driver side. Seokmin places your bag in the backseat before turning on the car and driving off. Your friends had insisted that you act calmly, but they didn’t know what it was like to date the sweetest guy alive. Every one of his sincere actions made you feel like your heart was going to burst.

This feeling hadn’t gone away with time, and you’re pretty sure it never would.

You feel like you’re floating on air by the time you get back to Seokmin’s apartment. He always takes you to these amazing restaurants that you always end up loving and never lets you pay. Every time you two go out you feel like you’re being swept off your feet all over again. It’s a feeling that hasn’t dulled over the course of these past few months, and you hope it never does.

The nerves you felt from the beginning of the night resurface when you enter his bedroom with your bag. You have a plan set out, but now that it’s time to execute it, you feel more nervous than ever.

You only become distracted when you go into the bathroom and see that Seokmin has a whole array of new products on the counter. “Baby?” You call as you inspect the very familiar skin care bottles. “When did you get these?”

Seokmin walks into the bathroom, a subtle blush suffusing his face when he sees what you’re holding. “I… I know you sometimes forget to bring all your products when you stay over or when we don’t plan for you to stay, and I just– I wanted you to always have them.”

The shy look he has on his face is so adorable, and at that moment you think that you won’t ever love anyone as much as you love Lee Seokmin.

You practically pounce on him, lips messily connecting with his own. Seokmin is quick to melt into you as you domineeringly back him onto the bed. He falls on his back with you on top of him. The movements of your lips become rougher and needier by the second. It’s dizzying the way you kiss him like you’re addicted to his taste. Like you won’t ever be able to get enough of him.

The heat in his gut expands up in his chest and spreads through his whole body the second you start to grind down on his hardening cock. As much as it pains him, he has to pull away. “Babe—”

You recognize his tone. It’s the one he gets when he’s about to say something particularly disappointing. But you won’t let him do what he’s been doing since you two became a couple. You’re going to get him to fuck you no matter what.

“I want you.” You say as boldly and confidently as you can. “So stop being a gentleman and fuck me already.”

Seokmin is looking up at you with wide eyes. You can see and feel how much he wants you, but you can also see that he’s hesitating. So you do something you really hope works because if not then it’s going to be super fucking embarrassing.

“Please, daddy?”

Your boyfriend freezes, eyes becoming dark and filled with an unmistakable heat that makes you clench. The way his cock seems to grow even bigger under you makes you want to buy your idiot friends a gift in thanks because in the next second you’re being flipped over on your back with Seokmin’s tongue back in your mouth, his hard cock grinding against you.

He pulls back, swiftly taking his shirt off before he pauses to look at you. Your boyfriend’s eyes seem to shine as he drinks the sight of you laid out for him so prettily. Seokmin licks his lips as his hands gently caress your upper thighs. “You’re so beautiful.”

You suck in a breath because his voice is soft and sincere. The way he’s staring at you makes your heart warm with affection. You’ve never felt so exposed, but you’ve also never felt so desired and wanted. Instead of feeling insecure you feel safe—loved.

“Take my dress off.”

And he does, slowly and carefully. Seokmin feels his heart jump up into his throat when he sees what you’re wearing beneath your dress. The lingerie makes you look like his very own present, and Seokmin is pretty sure he’s on the verge of coming in his pants.

“Angel…” He breathes, pressing his clothed cock against your core.

You bite your lip, feeling like you’re about to burst. “I guess you like it?”

“Fucking love it.” Seokmin groans as he starts to trail his lips down your body, kissing and licking at your exposed skin.

The way he’s taking his time to fully get you naked is making your mind turn into mush. You feel so hot and turned on that you’re pretty sure all Seokmin would need to do is grind down on your cunt and you would come.

Vaguely, you feel him tugging off the lacy bra you were wearing. He wastes no time in swooping down to capture one of the hardened buds in his mouth. You moan his name as he licks and sucks your nipple while his giant hand pinches and pulls the other one. His teeth slightly graze your hardened peak before he soothes over it with his flattened tongue.

Your head is swimming and all you can do is buck you hips up to his covered dick. “Fuck!”

Again, that carnal look appears in his eyes. He gently nips at your nipple before he continues to kiss his way down your body. It feels like forever until he gets to the part where you need him the most. Your aching cunt feels like it’s pulsing with need as Seokmin gently grips the edges of your underwear and slides it off.

Your hot pussy is finally exposed to the cool air, and for a moment Seokmin only stares at you with his smoldering eyes. You lick your lips and spread your legs wider. “Don’t you want a taste, daddy?”

Seokmin groans and places a gentle kiss on your clit before his tongue is splitting through your wet folds, lapping up all your sweet juices. Your boyfriend lets out another deep groan as he indulges himself in your taste, the reverberations sending a burning heat up your body.

“I knew you’d taste good.” Seokmin moans against your cunt, long nose bumping against your clit. “So sweet.”

Another gush of your slick coats his chin and mouth. You feel your eyes roll to the back as his tongue circles your clit, sucking it into his mouth to taste more of you. Seokmin is lapping at you with an ardent hunger that has you digging your hands into his hair. You arch up into his mouth as you let out a loud moan. “Daddy!”

The way you’re tugging his locks paired with the sweet sounds falling from your lips have him grinding his aching cock down on to the mattress. Seokmin fucks his tongue into you until you’re screaming his name and coating his mouth with your orgasm.

You’re breathing heavily by the time Seokmin sits up to look at you. The sight of you completely fucked out and sated is something he’ll engrave in his mind forever. At that moment he knows he’ll never get enough of how you look post orgasm.

Seokmin runs his thumb along his wet lips and sucks the remnants of your essence off his finger. Your cunt clenches at the erotic sight. He’s so hot and you can’t wait until he’s inside of you.

Admittedly, you’ve known Seokmin has a big dick. You’ve seen the imprint of it when he wears sweatpants, not to mention that you can even feel it’s massive size through his pants. Still, nothing can prepare you for how big it actually is when he takes the remainder of his clothes off. Your jaw drops, mouth instinctually salivating at the sight of his literal monster cock.

“Will it fit?” You can’t help but ask because right now as you’re looking at it, fitting all of him seems like it’s next to impossible.

Seokmin laughs as he aims his fat tip at your entrance. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll be gentle.”

Is it bad that part of you doesn’t want him to be?

You let out a soft mewl of pleasure when the fat head of his cock catches along your puffy lips, gently nudging against your swollen clit. His slit is oozing with beads of his arousal, evidence of just how much he wants you. Seokmin’s long fingers circle your clit, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he watches you writhe in pleasure.

Slowly, Seokmin eases into you, groaning lowly when your cunt clamps down on him like it doesn’t ever want to let go.

By the time he fits half of his cock inside you, you’re already a moaning mess. The stretch stings a little, but ultimately feels so fucking good. You feel entirely full despite him not bottoming out yet. All at the same time, your heart is fluttering as much as your cunt is with the sweet encouragements Seokmin is whispering into your ear as he keeps forcing his cock into your pussy.

Impatient as ever, you wrap your legs around your boyfriend’s waist to shove the rest of him inside you. The loud groan he lets out mixes with your scream of pleasure. Seokmin’s cock throbs where you two are connected, plugging you full of your wetness and his own precum that’s dripping from the fat head of his cock.

“Fuck me, daddy!” You moan as you start to grind up into him.

That’s all the encouragement Seokmin needs to start fucking into you deep and hard. His thrusts knock the air out of your lungs, the thick girth of his cock splitting you open deliciously with every passionate thrust. The amount of pleasure you feel as Seokmin’s large hand spreads your legs so he can fuck you deeper is astronomical. The action stretches you out more, and your boyfriend can’t help but moan loudly as your sweet cunt clamps down on him.

“You’re so damn tight, baby.” Seokmin moans, throwing his head back in pleasure as he continues rolling his hips against you.

He’s already drunk on the feeling of your tight walls suffocating his cock. Your hot cunt is massaging his the entirely of his cock in delicious pleasure that licks up his pelvis and pools in his abdomen. Seokmin’s pace becomes rougher when your loud moans turn into nonsensical babbling.

There’s just something so hot about the sight of you spread out under him, your pretty little cunt barely taking his big cock as you whine for him with those fucked out eyes of yours. His hips are snapping into you without losing pace even as he gently caresses your cheek, practically melting into you. “You’re taking this cock so well, baby. This sweet cunt was made for me.”

It’s insane how his voice can still sound so sweet while he’s balls deep inside you. The loud squelch from your cunt is filling the room, and it just turns you on even more. Seokmin moans when he feels your fluttering cunt clench down on him again.

“You close, angel?” He asks through his groans as he looks down where his cock is sliding in and out of you. “Fuck yeah you are. I can feel you squeezing me real tight.”

“Fuh-Fuck! Make me come, daddy!”

You can’t keep your mouth shut, moaning and whining almost incoherently. It feels like you’re on the verge of coming any second, cunt so sensitive and stretched to the max. The pressure in your lower abdomen builds when Seokmin stars to thumb at your lips.

“Come for me, baby. Cream all over daddy’s cock.” He groans, so fond of you that he feels like his heart might implode.

His coaxing makes the coil in your stomach snap. The intensity of your orgasm is prolonged as Seokmin continues to fuck you through it, never once stopping those snapping hips of his.

Seokmin’s mouth falls open with a loud moan when he looks at your pretty pussy filled with his thick cock, your cream coating his veiny dick. You let out a moan of your own when he hooks his hands underneath your knees and pushes your legs against your chest.

“Pl-Please!” You cry out as he pounds his cock into your hot cunt. “Give me your cum! Fill me up!”

Your aroused pleas trigger something primal in him, and he goes wild at the thought of breeding you. “You want daddy’s cum, angel?”

His heavy balls slap your ass as pathetic mewls tumble from your lips. The way you desperately arch into him as your body trembles has his cock twitching inside your cunt.

“Want it so bad, daddy!” You moan, not caring that you sound needy and pathetic.

Seokmin abruptly releases his cum inside you, orgasm triggered by your neediness. His warm seed fills you as he slowly grinds his dick into you to make sure all his cum stays inside you. “That’s right, baby. Take daddy’s cum like a good girl.”

He goes still for a moment to allow you to gather your senses before he reluctantly pulls out of you. The sight of his cum dripping out of you makes his still hard cock twitch in need. Seokmin is too busy looking at your swollen pussy to see that you’re eyeing his cock hungrily.

You smirk a bit, knowing that the monster between his legs couldn’t possibly satiated with one orgasm. Luckily, you were the same way.

“Daddy.” You whine, fluttering your eyelashes slowly. “Want more.”

It’s so cute the way Seokmin goes red. This was the same man who had fucked your brains out not seconds ago, and you absolutely love it. You bite your lip before coyly speaking again. “Can I be on top this time?”

“Look at my pretty angel.” Seokmin coos, voice dripping with honey as you whimper in his tight hold.

Your boyfriend dragged you along the length of his thick cock, soaking it in your essence. Slick dripped down to his heavy balls before it fell to the sheets between his parted thighs. Seokmin can’t help but to smirk at your needy, fucked out expression as he swirls his wet tongue around your tits. His large hand is pressed flat between your shoulder blades, pressing you closer to him to keep you exactly where he wanted you.

“Daddy, please! Want to ride you!”

His lips gently suckled at your taut bud, slurping around it before he pulled back without releasing you. The wet disconnect and hot pressure from your breasts shot through your body until it was making your pussy clench around nothing but frustrating air.

“Beg me properly, baby. If you want my cock," he shifted his hips to allow the blunt tip of his pulsing cock to catch against your clit. “then say it clearly.”

Your hips rutted with a pathetic mewl. “Please fuck me, daddy. I want your cock so bad!”

Seokmin, ever weak to your desires, slams into you in a toe-curling thrust, forcing your walls apart with an guttural groan. “That’s it, baby. So fucking needy for daddy’s cock, huh?”

Your face is hot against his neck, still trying to get used to his big dick splitting you open. Apparently, your boyfriend is the impatient type.

“What are you waiting for? Fuck yourself on daddy’s cock, angel.”

That’s all it takes for you to start bouncing on his massive cock, lost to a rhythm that was forced upon you. There was no slow up and down, not when your man was in the mood to fuck you completely dumb. Not that you were complaining. This was what you wanted all along.

“So good, daddy.” You moan as you toss your head back.

Seokmin has never felt better than now with your sweet cunt gripping his dick. He thinks he’ll never get enough of you now that he’s had you. That primal thought has him smacking your ass with such force that you rocked forward and fell across his brawny chest. He grips your hips and starte to fuck you up and down on his dick like an animal in heat. The delicious drag of his cock hits directly against your sweet spot that has you seeing stars.

"Daddy, please," you beg in a broken moan.

“What, baby? You wanna come?”

“I, no—yes.” You stutter through your moans and gasps. “But I want daddy’s cum more!”

Seokmin practically growls and starts to fuck his cock up into you at a savage pace. Every clap of his heavy balls on your ass jolts you, forcing you to brace on his strong chest and endure this roughness.

A gentle hand pulled you to his lips where Seokmin devoured you in a lust-fuelled kiss. He swallowed your squeal as his thumb found your aching clit, rubbing at it in precise and fast circles. The wet gush of your orgasm forced past his bullying cock was so intense that the world seemed to spin off its axis as you dived into free fall. You were only dimly aware of the hissed praise from the man still fucking into you.

Sensitive nipples graze across his hard chest, eliciting keening noises as you rutted every time your hips meet Seokmin’s thrusts. Your dripping arousal made the sound of skin slapping utterly carnal in a room that smelled of nothing but sex.

“Daddy’s not done yet, baby.” Seokmin grunts against your lips. “I still have to fill you up.”

You let out a loud moan even though your pussy is fluttering and aching from the overstimulation. You can’t help but buck your hips to meet his thrusts because all you really wanted was him to fuck his cum into you again.

“O-Oh, fuck.” Seokmin moans as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

His thrusts were getting sloppier by the second, so lost in the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around him that his mind started to go hazy. “You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. My sweet, perfect angel.”

The grip Seokmin has on your hips is tight as he continues to piston his cock into your hot cunt at a an animalistic speed, relishing in every single centimeter of you. He give you one final harsh thrust before he spills his sticky cum inside you. You two moan together, both loving the feeling of his seed painting your walls white.

“Stay inside me, daddy.” You mewl, clenching down on him when you feel him trying to pull out of you.

He moans when you smash your lips against his in a passionate kiss. You two lay together like that for a moment before Seokmin looks at you with those puppy like eyes of his.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

You snuggle into his chest while shaking your head. “No. You were the perfect gentleman.”

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo @dokwiyomie

#seokmin smut #seokmin x reader #svt smut #svthub #seventeen smut #seokmin x you #svt x reader #seventeen x you #svt fanfic #seokmin fic #seokmin fanfic #svt fic #svt x you #seventeen fic #seokmin imagines #svt imagines

2K notes · View notes

poppy-metal · 3 months

Note

friends to lovers with patrick…oh my i have thoughts

you guys both come from rich families, grew up with each other all that good stuff and you are quite literally the only people in your wealthy little bubble who really get each other. highlight of the year is when he comes back from the academy for summer break and holidays. all the time he has he spends with you…of course by the time you’re both teenagers he leaves you every once in a while when a pretty girl he can get with comes along. you’ve known you liked him since you were 10 (this all consuming love that knows you’ll always gravitate towards him) this goes on throughout your teens

He realizes he has feelings for you around the time you’re 17, stupidly when he finally sees you start going out with other people. takes him about a week to fully understand why seeing you with a boyfriend pisses him off…of course when he tells you this, things don’t go as planned (referring to your last post on friends to lovers…like of course youre nervous about this. you love him but if he cheats? god you lose him as a boyfriend and a friend). so you fool around a bit, and while he insists on something more serious, you’re too scared to take the jump

this hurts him of course. hurts him enough that when he leaves that summer in 2006 to go pro, he doesn’t want to keep in contact anymore. yeah it hurts to not respond to your calls or emails, but you broke his heart first? how can he just continue like something is normal. You try to keep track of his life, checking scores, even reaching out to that strawberry blonde boy he brought to your house in the summer before (who doesn’t tell you anything either)

life is so much more boring without your best friend. you try meeting new people all throughout college, spread your wings, but its all so boring. no one is as fun or exciting or loving as patrick. eventually you just give up on the idea he is going to come back to your life, its been four years at this point.

you graduate college and go back to your rich little family. realize he isn’t even in contact with his family, god you really have no connection to this man anymore, the only person you actually love is no longer in contact with you. and quite frankly you’re lonely. so after couple post-grad years of wallowing in your sadness, when your parents start pushing you to get married…it only takes couple weeks for you to agree

everything happens so quickly, meeting the rich prick your parents have picked out, the engagement, god now your wedding is in couple of weeks

are you excited? of course not, you don’t feel anything for this man, but hey there are worse outcomes than becoming a wife to a rich business man. you’re 24 you have the rest of your life to live, at least you can do it knowing you have as much money as possible

so yeah you’re content with the life that you’ve chosen….well that is until patrick mf zweig shows up at your door step after years going “you’re getting married?”

oh well…there goes being content with your husband

-🫀

CHEATING IMMEDIATELY

god, its like. why had he even showed up. you'd been the one to break his heart, you'd grappled with that, stewed with regret over it for years, still did, but he'd been the one to cut you off. to block you on all accounts. so to show up now..... like he'd never left, you're shell shocked. hand over your heart, your engagement ring glinting right there.

its like a full laurie moment. "dont marry him." and you're falling back a step like what, what, you cant say that to me.

but he means it. he'd cut you off but he'd never moved on. and hearing the news of your engagement felt like a wakeup call - like someone threw a bucket of ice water over his head. because he fucking knows you. knows you'd never marry a guy like that - not the girl he knew. and you might have broken his heart, but maybe he should have fought for you harder. maybe he shouldn't have stone walled you. maybe he should have seen you were scared and done everything in his power to prove you were meant to be with him.

its a late start, but he's never been one to quit. he wont give you up again.

#ask #🫀 anon #I'd be folding like a lawn chair im ngl #patrick zweig x reader

120 notes · View notes

scoops-aboy86 · 2 months

Text

I Want To (Secret Admirer pt 8)

Finally got to the "drunken confessions" part of day 6's prompt!

wc: 4103 / rated: T / set after season 3 / also on ao3

Eddie’s van has always been a piece of shit, but she’s his piece of shit. Even when she breaks down halfway between the Hideout and Gareth’s house, necessitating a rescue from Gareth’s mom in her station wagon so they can get all of their equipment out before the tow truck arrives. Even when it means he has to really lean hard into dealing so he can come up with the money to pay for repairs.

Even when it cuts into his writing-to-and-recording-things-for-Steve time. But he had managed to get the tape of Steve’s favorite songs recorded and sent off, finally—no easy feat, since he’d had to learn most of the songs from scratch for this tape. Could’ve done without the Tears for Fears and Wham!, and he’d listened to way too much pop radio in order to get decent recordings to study… but he’d been pleasantly surprised by the request for Queen. He already owned some of their albums.

Didn’t peg you for a Queen fan, sweetheart, but if anything it makes me even more smitten with you. Quick question though… Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees? Is that a nostalgia thing or is there a story there?

Anyway, while poor ol’ Shelob is sitting in the lot behind Thatcher Tires, the guys have helped by keeping their ears to the ground about parties for him to hit up. Jeff is even coming with him to this one, not to help directly but enough of a known associate that he’ll act as a passive form of advertisement, letting interested partygoers know that Eddie has set up shop in the walk-in pantry just off the kitchen.

And it’s working. He’s basically sold out when someone comes over while he’s got his head down, counting his take so far, and asks, “Hey man, do you still have any weed left?”

Eddie freezes—just for a second. He hasn’t had much direct contact with Steve over the years because it was always Tommy who did the buying, back when the Harrington house was party central. But he’d recognize that voice anywhere.

He looks up, determined not to fall into those warm hazel eyes, biting the insides of his cheeks hard in an effort to will away the flush that wants to rise in his face.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie lies. He has some he’d squirreled away for himself, but whatever. Steve can have it. Can have everything.

Don’t think about the letter he’d written back to Steve, answering in detail what all two guys can do together. That way madness lies. The kind of madness where he offers Steve something else by way of just dropping to his knees right here in Melissa Sarby’s kitchen pantry.

Steve grins—he grins at him! And pulls his wallet from his back pocket. Eddie has never been more jealous of a folded rectangle of leather in his life. “Great, how much?”

Eddie tells him the amount and names his price, steeply discounted compared to how much he’s charged everyone else tonight. He can’t get over how good Steve looks, for all that he’s moving a little stiffly, subtly babying his healing ribs beneath a short-sleeved button-up shirt. He’s also wearing, Eddie realizes, fucking makeup to disguise the fading black eye. It’s good work, probably Robin’s. (Jealous again, even though he believes Steve about the platonic thing. It’s just, why stop at envying a wallet, right?) And the shorts he’s wearing… Those cannot be the grandpa shorts he’d written about, hugging his ass in all the right places. Meanwhile, Eddie’s jeans are more hole than denim and his Iron Maiden shirt is the one with the bleach stain and the sides cut down to practically his waistband because it was hot as shit today. It’s still warm, even after dark.

But wait. Wait.

Did Steve, still recuperating from his injuries, get dressed and made up just to try and track down an opportunity to switch from painkillers to sweet Mary Jane? Or because, like he’d mentioned that one time, he associates the smell with his secret admirer and is seeking it out as a self-soothing thing? Or did he… Does he know? Did he come to this for Eddie, somehow?

Whatever Steve’s reason for being here, it makes Eddie sweat, but he’s also grateful just to, like, bask. He’s seized by a sudden urge to come clean, to look Steve in the eye and reveal himself as the author of those letters, call him sweetheart or baby or big boy to his face—

“Maybe I’ll see you around the party,” Steve says casually. And maybe Eddie is crazy, or hopeful, or way too in love with the unattainable, but he could swear he hears the last word lifting a little, almost like a question.

Eddie nods his head, says, “Sure.”

And well. Damn. Does Steve know? Is that why he’s kinda sorta asking if Eddie is going to stick around? Or is this just Steve being friendly, because he’s a good dude now?

Either way, even though Eddie’s stock is basically cleared out, now he wants to stay. Which is not to say that he isn’t vibrating out of his shoes with nerves. After Steve exits the pantry, Eddie slips out and helps himself to a couple shots of whatever’s closest on his way through the kitchen—because it’s not like he can smoke his anxiety away anymore, Jesus H. Christ.

But Steve called him brave, and goddammit if this isn’t an opportunity to seize the day, stare down the barrel of a gun, pee into the wind. He can be brave, right? If he can’t, he might never find out if anything is ever going to happen for real, if they could ever be something, and then the regret will eat away at him for the rest of his cowardly life.

“Hey man,” Jeff calls when he sees Eddie, threading through the sticky crowd to meet him. “Ready to go?”

Which is code for: it’s hot and sticky in here and the music sucks, let’s leave. And while all of that is definitely true…

“I think I’m going to stick around a bit,” Eddie says, and holds up his metal lunchbox, waggling it a little. He just hopes his voice isn’t doing anything noticeably weird, either from nerves or the recently downed mystery booze. (He hadn’t taken the time to look at the bottle properly. Definitely hadn’t bothered to taste it.) “If you’re heading out, though, you mind looking after the Shelob Get Well fund for me?”

Jeff shrugs and takes it. “Okay man. Better you than me.”

He’s a good friend. Eddie appreciates him for not asking questions, though that might just be tabled for later. And sure, Jeff was also his ride home, but whatever. He can get home on his own power even without wheels. That’s what legs are for.

Eddie spends the next hour or two cycling between getting his nerve up to approach Steve then abruptly losing it and revisiting the kitchen for more liquid fortification. Every time he spots Steve in the crowd again, he isn’t doing anything in particular—hanging back against the wall and people watching, or drifting by the party snacks, or occasionally chatting with some of the incoming seniors that he must know from the sports teams he’d been on last year. It doesn’t seem like Steve is in any rush to leave, though, so there’s still time for Eddie to prove to himself that yes, he can be brave.

But after seeing one of the cheerleaders latch onto Steve’s arm, Eddie does another u-turn. The millionth fucking one, probably. This time after getting a refill, he decides to investigate the music situation, see if there are any non-shit options, not even going to fuck with it, probably… It’s very unlikely that he’d intentionally dump his current cup of punch on the tape player just to protect his unhappy ears, cross his heart and swear to Van Halen.

But no, instead: betrayal. Because his stupid legs have carried him too far from the edges of the room, too close to the dancing, fucked up masses in the middle of the living-room-slash-dance-floor, and he gets sucked in. Holding his cup up high over people’s heads—because he’d rather dump punch that somehow tastes stronger than straight liquor on their heads than splash it on their chests, apparently. Eddie tries to muscle through, resigning himself to a wobbly straight-shot across the room instead, but it’s only a matter of time until someone hip-checks him into some poor bastard.

When it does happen, whoever it is at least has the coordination to catch his drink before it spills. Eddie swallows hard at the sensation of a big hand wrapped around his hand on the cup, and brings his gaze around to meet warm hazel eyes.

“Woah there,” says Steve fucking Harrington, looking a little worse for wear from sweating through his foundation. Or maybe Eddie is just way too close for his own safety and knows what to look for.

“Talkin’ to me like I’m a horse?” Eddie blusters, trying to sway back before he gets caught in Steve’s gravity like he wants to. “Bold.”

Maybe it’s the whole room that’s swaying. Maybe he overdid it a bit. Shit, why had he stayed at this terrible party again? Steve, and free booze, but, like… now Steve is here.

Looking at him. Evaluating. And, after a second, gently guiding him back out of the throng. “Maybe,” Steve replies near his ear while they move. “I’m going to lead you to water and try to make you drink, so I guess we’ll see.”

They make it to the bathroom just as Eddie’s churning stomach decides to make a run for it in earnest. He ends up bent over the sink, sparing maybe a tiny fraction of a thought towards the fact that at least what’s coming up is mostly liquid, shouldn’t clog anything—the rest of his half-offline brain power is going towards not reacting to Steve holding his hair back for him. He can feel fingertips on his scalp, and they might as well be the only things keeping him upright.

Goddamn traitor legs.

The next thing Eddie knows, he’s sitting on the closed toilet lid and Steve is pressing the cup back into his hand, rinsed out and full of water now. He raises it to gulp, some of the liquid sloshing out the sides to run down his neck, feels good…

“Hey, slow down man,” Steve says, taking the cup back and leaving Eddie to gasp at the reintroduction of air. “You’re gonna hurl again if you drink too fast.”

“S’nothin’ left,” he mumbles. Steve is so close… He told Steve that he’s a guy, didn’t he? So it’d be okay if… Oh, but he hadn’t told Steve that he’s him, Eddie. So maybe it wouldn’t be okay. Maybe if he kissed Steve, Steve would think he cheated on his secret admirer, like Lois Lane cheating on Superman with Clark Kent. The idea makes Eddie start to giggle.

Steve smiles back at him. “What? You figured out you’re not a horse ‘cause I could make you drink?”

That makes him snort after a moment, because it’s such a dumb joke but also it took him so long to get it. Eddie might have to kiss him anyway.

He should rinse his mouth first.

“Nooo,” he drawls, rising up and putting a hand on one of Steve’s several shoulders to steady himself. “I just gotta.” That’s it, right? Yeah, that’s a complete enough sentence. Onward.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks. He trails after Eddie’s beeline for the sink, grabbing for Eddie’s curls again when he dips to stick his mouth under the faucet. “Hey, don’t drown yourself, man!”

“I’m rinsing,” Eddie retorts, but it gets lost in the stream of water. He swirls and spits a few times, then straightens up and emphasizes again, “Rinsing.” And then he leans into the other man’s touch, because he can’t help himself. Steve is so close and, holy shit. Actually touching him, which has never happened before tonight, and he’s only ever caught whiffs of Steve’s cologne from a distance but it is intoxicating.

Or… maybe he’s just way drunker than he meant to get. Oops.

Oh well.

“How’s my breath now, baby?” he asks shamelessly, dipping closer. Lets his voice drop low and rumbling, and could swear he sees some heat rise to Steve’s less-makeuped cheek.

“Could definitely be worse,” Steve replies diplomatically. He puts a hand on Eddie’s hip though, like he’s afraid he might fall over without it, and that makes Eddie feel less inclined to pout—because god, those hands. They’re so big, he wants to roll around in them. “Did you drive here?”

“Hm?” Eddie flutters his eyes back open, not totally sure when he’d closed them. He’d been thinking about Steve’s hands. Absently starting to compose a letter about what he’d like to feel them do in his head, out of habit. “No… Had a ride here, was gonna walk home.”

Steve hesitates, then offers, “I could give you a ride, if you can give me directions.”

“A trade,” Eddie murmurs. “You’ve caught my interest, Sir Steve.” As if he didn’t have it already, permanently. With a vague after you gesture, Eddie nudges Steve with his hip in the direction of the door. “To your noble steed, then! For the last child of Ungoliant to trouble the unhappy world has retreated to her lair in Cirith Munson till such time as she can be healed.”

“I have no idea what that means, dude,” Steve says. But he’s got a little grin on his face like he’s not put off by the blatant nerdery, and the hand still on Eddie’s hip guides him along with him with minimal fuss.

“Sssssecretsss,” Eddie hisses back with a lopsided smirk, because he’s a little freak and Steve might as well see that up close.

Tomorrow he’ll be mortified, but that’s Tomorrow Eddie’s problem. Right now is Drunk Eddie’s time.

He sinks gratefully into a comfy passenger seat in Steve’s beemer, no weird lumps or stray pokey springs like in his van or any of his friends’ (parents’) cars. Blinks slowly up at Steve while the man buckles him in place, head lolling a little to catch sight of the two moles on his neck, just beneath his jaw, that look like a vampire bite. Licks his lips and rests his eyes for a moment while the world spins lazily around him, then opens them again when the car starts and the radio comes on.

“Boooo,” he heckles once processed that it’s one of those pop stations he’d been listening way too much lately. Which he’d done for Steve, and this is Steve’s car, but he’d also been suffering through this crap at full volume for days to learn to play it, so it’s not like he’s being unreasonable. “Change stations, Stevie, I’m not—I can’t take it anymore. I’ll puke the blood that’s leaking down from my ears, you don’t want that in your fancy car.”

“Don’t joke about that, man,” Steve replies, but reaches over willingly enough to turn the volume down to almost nothing. “So, where to?”

Eddie mutters directions and promises to flap his hand in the right direction whenever they get to intersections, since he’s sure Steve has never been to the Forest Hills trailer park before. But when he points out turns, it always seems like Steve is already taking them. He turns in the passenger seat to squint at him, the turn signal clicking maddeningly against his eardrums every single time Steve puts it on.

“How come you know where I live?”

“I don’t?” Steve glances at him, then back at the road. “I’ve lived in Hawkins my whole life. It’s not exactly big, I know where the trailer park is.”

Eddie stares at him for another minute. He watches the street lights shine on Steve’s face, casting shadows, making him look ethereal at times and unknowable in others, sometimes both. And fuck, he wants.

But it’s Steve Harrington. They’re in Steve Harrington’s fancy car, barreling towards the moment when Eddie clambers out and says goodnight—maybe not in that order, he doesn’t know yet, but it’s going to happen either way. How many girls has Steve dropped off in this car at the end of a date?

It doesn’t matter, because they weren’t on a date. Steve had held his hair back while he threw up and is giving him a ride home because he’s a nice guy. Steve… doesn’t know they’ve been exchanging love letters all summer.

“I need something to listen to,” Eddie blurts out, leaning forward to turn the volume back up and switching over to whatever tape is in. “Let’s see what local white knight Steve Harrington listens to in his spare time, shall we?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t—”

There’s a click and a whir, and the tape starts up in the middle of an acoustic cover of Queen’s ‘I Want To Break Free.’

Of Eddie’s acoustic cover, and the sound of his own humming that makes him drunkenly wonder, Is that really what I sound like?

Steve has been listening to the most recent tape he sent him in the car. Eddie can feel his eyes going the size of dinner plates—there hasn’t even been time to get a letter back about it, he sent it that recently. His chest fills up with fizz and nerves because maybe Steve was listening to it on the way to the party, and if so what does that mean?

He doesn’t move a muscle, barely even breathes, and Steve seems similarly quiet in the driver’s seat next to him. And suddenly (because Steve’s right, Hawkins isn’t a big place, it never takes all that long to get from point A to point B) they’re pulling into the trailer park and Eddie is gesturing stiffly to which trailer is his.

The car pulls to a stop and Eddie… doesn’t move. His tape is still playing, that one about being head over heels now.

I’d let you fight my battles too, at least until my ribs get back to normal and then we can both fight both of our battles. You know I’d do that for you, right? If you ever need me. I really like these letters. I really like you.

Love, Steve

… Fuck it. That love is still caught in his heart, pumping the sweetness of it through his arteries and veins with every beat, and he’s dizzy with booze and wanting.

Eddie turns towards Steve, fumbling to unbuckle his seat belt as an afterthought, half climbing over the middle divider to get even a fraction of how close he wants to be. Hears Steve’s soft intake of breath while he leans in, reaching to cradle the back of his head instead of his left cheek in case that might hurt (because he may be drunk off his ass but he remembers, okay, doesn’t want to hurt his sweetheart) and kisses him.

Soft at first, the barest hint of trying to be chaste, but one taste could never be enough. The rest of the world is white fucking noise as Eddie licks his way inside Steve’s easily parting lips, seals them together, steals the breath right out of his lungs with the perfect way they slot together. He’s shaking with it, drunk and stupid and floating and Steve’s hands are in his hair again for a much, much better reason this time, kissing and being kissed back.

“Let’s see what local white knight Steve Harrington listens to in his spare time, shall we?”

Steve’s heart jumps into his throat, realizing what Eddie is about to do. “Oh, uh, I don’t—”

For as drunk as he is, Eddie is fast. Too fast for Steve to come up with some excuse for stopping him, and then the evidence of the tape he’d used to psyche himself up for the party floods the car, because… Well, the latest letter was still filling his head, all the ways Eddie had promised he could be good with his hands, and the soothing sounds of guitar and Eddie’s voice kept him at pleasantly equal levels of calm and stirred up.

He expects Eddie, loose tongued as he is, to say something. Take the opportunity to reveal himself finally and offer some lighthearted quip about their different tastes in music again. Steve, heart still in his throat, wants that, because he’s never been one for hesitating to rip off the band-aid.

This thing between them, the softness and hope of it, is the only thing that’s kept Steve afloat since he’d had to admit to his parents that he’d lost his car keys. He’d written to Secret Admirer—to Eddie—about it, of course, but he might have… minimized a bit. Mentioned them calling him irresponsible, and some of the emotional hoops they’d made him jump through before agreeing to arrange for replacements, but he’d left some things unsaid.

Like, how he knows how to get a copy of a key made but that requires, you know, something to copy! His parents had kept all the spares when they gave him the car, even though it’s his name on the title—a detail which makes him seem like a spoiled brat if he complains, but he’s always felt like that was calculated. And how he had no idea how to get a new car key made from scratch, and still doesn’t because they hadn’t explained it, just done it.

Or the way he’d been so apathetic for days after that series of phone calls that Robin had offered part of her savings to help him get his own place. “A loan,” she’d explained. “Anything to get you out from under those people’s thumbs, Steve, they’re horrible human beings. They didn’t call back about you having a concussion but they called immediately after getting your message about some stupid keys? That’s the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard about, way worse than a giant spider monster made of melted people!”

Steve just. He needs a win right now. He needs some sort of reassurance that Robin isn’t a one-off good thing in his life. If he and Eddie could just get on the same page and stop pretending that they didn’t both want to kiss each other…

Because he’s been pretending all night, ever since the moment he’d seen Eddie in person for the first time since only half-noticing him in school. Watched him for a while while there were still people crowded around, knowing that it might mean there’d be nothing left to buy by the time he approached and then maybe they’d end up talking. Hadn’t happened, sadly, so he’d stuck around—and damn, he’s glad he did. It seemed like every time he’d caught a glimpse of the man after that he had a new drink in hand, and by the time he herded Eddie into the bathroom his eyes were so unfocused that Steve wasn’t sure he even recognized him until “You’ve caught my interest, Sir Steve.”

He’d wanted to say that the feeling was mutual, but hadn’t quite had the nerve.

But now Steve is driving in a cold sweat because they’re listening to Eddie’s tape and Eddie himself is stock-still to his right.

And look, all he’s hoping for at this point is to get Eddie home safely, maybe strike up a conversation as he’s helping the guy inside or whatever Eddie needs, whatever he can get away with. Being able to touch him at the party had given him goosebumps despite the summer heat in general and the thick, humid air inside the house. Selfishly, he wants more, but knows he needs to content himself with breadcrumbs until they make it to the real stuff, not wanting to give away how clingy he can be (if he hasn’t already in his letters). So when he pulls to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, he’s glad when Eddie doesn’t leap up and bolt immediately.

The kiss catches Steve off guard. It’s so gentle and tentative at first, for all that Eddie just about threw himself across the car to initiate it. Just as quickly, it turns hungry, and it’s that hunger that has Steve readily opening, accepting, wanting right back. Eddie kisses him like he’s trying to leave a mark, and he does. A fierce and possessive blaze that’s totally separate from the burn of lingering alcohol, one that doesn’t start to hurt until it ends.

Tag list (ask to be added): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @whalesharksart

@thetinymm @envyadams-vs-me @practicallybegging @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @dauntlessdiva

@nerdyglassescheeseychick @fuzzyduxk @chaosgremlinmunson @greatwerewolfbeliever @goosesister

@dolphincliffs @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @beckkthewreck @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @kurofuckingshi16

@bookworm0690 @millseyes-world @live-laugh-love-dietrich @the-tenth-mus-e

#steddieweek2024 #scoops words #secret admirer steddie #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #jeff (stranger things)#eddie munson's van

105 notes · View notes