#a girl who has never done anything wrong ever in her life
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tomorrow the sun will rise
and you will not
#the dragon prince#claudia#i love one (1) blood-soaked daughter#a girl who has never done anything wrong ever in her life#but even if she somehow had it's okay i support women's wrongs#claudia can do what she wants#kradogsarts
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— OCS AS MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURES
TAGGED BY the dears @denerims, @chuckhansen, @marivenah, @dihardys, @leviiackrman, @adelaidedrubman, @belorage and @roofgeese to take this cutest uquiz for the loves! ty so much! <3
TAGGING: @feystepped, @griffin-wood, @risingsh0t, @queennymeria, @kingsroad, @unholymilf, @bloodofvalyria, @stormveils, @celticwoman, @rocketsummer, @roberthouses, @confidentandgood, @arklay, @aartyom, @anoras, @swordcoasts, @shadowglens, @shellibisshe, @loriane-elmuerto, @jackiesarch, @aceghosts, @florbelles, @belorage and you!
KITSUNE (FOX SPIRIT)
You are neither good nor evil, you play by your own rules. You are capable of living a great many years, and can accumulate plenty of wisdom throughout your lifetime. People might fear you because you may possess or seduce them, and are almost always likely to have the upper hand in a situation. This is fair, since you tend to be a trickster. Nonetheless, you are also honorable and will repay any debts and fulfill any promises you make.
DRAGON
You have a hard exterior, but you’re really a softie inside. You can be very confrontational and might pick fights here and there, but you also know when to yield and find a compromise with your enemy. Fiercely protective, you keep your most treasured belongings, people and memories close to your heart. Nothing can stop you when you’re feeling protective. You’ll come with the full force of fire and skies against anyone who threatens your kingdom.
LADY OF THE LAKE
Your past has not been kind to you and you come from tragic beginnings, but you are pure of heart and devoted to helping those who are as lost as you once were. In some ways, you might feel trapped where you are in life, but you are able to make the most of what is available to you. Ultimately, you are capable of great decisions and can decide who wields power. You choose to be loved rather than feared.
PARI (FAIRY)
Mischievous and cunning, you are a pretty-faced creature capable of deception, but ultimately good at heart. You cast love spells and weed your way into people’s lives, pulling strings. You are a lone wolf and a traveler, moving in and out of people’s lives seamlessly. But although you are ambivalent, your intentions are good. You may fall quickly in love with people but will be quick to leave them as your love may sting.
MERMAID
Your enchanting beauty would be enough to inspire the greatest artists, but you yourself are an artist as well. Unfortunately, it might get to your head a bit as your hold yourself in the highest regard in both looks and talent. You are deeply misunderstood and feel the need to compensate and are therefore constantly performing for people. People might accuse you of manipulation or lying, and at times it’s difficult for you to reflect on what you’ve done wrong.
GNOME
You are a bit of a homebody and can be quite timid, but you’re always on people’s paths. Everyone who meets you likes you. Sticking to one place suits you, and you aren’t very open to major changes. You can be quite crafty and inventive, people come to you when they need help fixing things. You are also a trustworthy guard of people’s homes and secrets.
#only if you want to! 🥀🍄#oc: iovanna dayne#oc: valaenya targaryen#oc: illyria ilmestys#oc: una nathaira uller#oc: elaenaera targaryen#oc: yelena voronin#well this was the CUTEST to do ahh ty ty to you all for the tag!#and also so many of these nailed the girls to the letter? i just KNEW enya and yelena were to get dragon and gnome i could FEEL it jsnka#speaking of yelena return of the queen :') im playing s*kyrim (again ksanxdkn the shock) but like...... i miss yelena#'everyone who meets you likes you' THATS RIGHT BC SHES AN ANGEL IN THE WASTES A TRUE SAINT ON EARTH :')#'people come to you when they need help.' a true dads girl babies a surgeon AHH it all fits her so well im SOBBING#that ella is an inpiration to artists and is admired but has an air of arrogance bc of that from her upbringing AHH..!#'at times its difficult to admit you've done wrong.' i mean if u think shes done wrong no she didn't bc shes never done wrong ever <3#'ultimately good at heart.' THE WAY I WHEEZED jhsanjxn but also that shes cunning and a pretty faced creature capable of deception.. RIGHT#una 'ive never done anything wrong in my life ever' uller and bc shes charming the people (a*egon janjksnaj) see this as fact jsdnjd#love that for u sweetie!#ILLYRIAS HAD ME SOBBING THE HELPING PEOPLE WHO WERE LOST AS SHE WAS SHE FEELS TRAPPED SHE MAKES THE MOST OF THINGS#in her lore she was orphaned when her mothers ship wrecked and she lived alone as a child on asshai for a few years before found!#her and a*emond were friends and attached at the hip as kids and then she left at around nine when she bonded with her dragon#she returns at the last supper and during the dance as regent with him she aided helping orphans find safety during the battles :')#oh my god dragon and enya was nailed to the LETTER. i mean she IS a member of the dragon house she claims ancestry hjsanjhxn#fire and blood babey! reigning fire to enemies of her house(s) a hard exterior with a soft side for her loved ones ITS SO GOOD#she was practically raised with g*riff and enya was the first to take dragonstone when s*tannis left for the north#and by the time d*any got there she and her became instant best friends :) believing in her cause and ideals#theres also more scions of the hotd clowns in g*ot that im planning and they're family as well to her.. keep her enemies in ur thoughts#(dont look to closely at the editing ksankjadn its my first attempt with manip :') jskanjxka but! i made an effort! ahh!)#VANNNNA AHH..! 'always likely to have the upper hand in the situation' she KNOWS things that's my mistress of mists! spymaster dear!#leg.ocs#leg.tagged
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Andie McPhee has the deadly youngest child yet eldest daughter combo, as if she hadn’t suffered enough
#anyone who is mean to her pls consider what that would do to a person#andie mcphee#she has never done anything wrong in her life ever#even if Tim hadn’t died my girl was Going Through It#dawson’s creek
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Trouvaille
IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 1 - Kwon Eunbi
IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut
21,183 words
Categories | best friend!Eunbi, facefucking, cum swallowing, against the wall, anal
The most unrealistic thing about this, besides getting to fuck Eunbi, is that she has sex with glasses on.
“Two things. I need you to tell me two things before I kill you in front of everyone. And trust me, I’m very good with a gun.”
“Oh no,” you say grumpily, and a little more sarcastically, while you're gathering your things into the gray backpack you’ve used through its tatters. “How will I ever see the light of day again?”
Eunbi barely looks intimidating anyway in the toga that sags around her small body. The fabric’s a blackish-blue waterfall that drags on the ground. You’re surprised mud hasn’t done its wicked way with it. It began raining earlier, see, and now, except for the mud as evidence, it's as if it never happened. The heat has become too much.
Everything is too much.
“You won’t,” Eunbi says, tongue between her teeth, “but save yourself for once. Tell me what’s going on.”
Right above the garment, her long tresses fall over her shoulders. Earlier last year, she had it cut and everyone fell for her instantly. But you’ve always taken the speedy growth of her hair a victory for your side.
No victories right now though. It’s supposed to be a grand day—the scam that is college has finally run its course, and today you ought to celebrate and throw your cap in the air like everyone else.
But you’re still completely, royally pissed off.
Turn your back. Clear answer, with other possible variations that basically say the same thing: I’m not telling you shit. Nope. Stop bugging me. Brat.
She follows, and she’s a shadow behind you who’s too pretty to be one. But you lengthen your steps. Hope she doesn’t pursue you, but she’s always done that. Since you were kids on the playground, she’s never let you deal with things on your own. It’s forever been Eunbi will help you, Eunbi will stay with you, Eunbi will talk for you.
Why must that knowledge swirl a puzzling mix of emotions in you? She has not once left you alone, and yet here you are, forcing her to do so.
A pair of leather shoes and high platforms (which give way to the illusion that she’s barely shorter than you) pave through the cobblestone ground of the campus you’ll never dream of returning to. You say that yet you and Eunbi are the only other few graduates remaining on the premises. Why? It’s not like you have anything or anyone to be melancholic about.
She walks in the corner of your line of vision. Alright, maybe someone.
You’ve tried to avoid eye contact but you turn to her anyway. She’s always been this easy on the eyes, even when you were high schoolers with wild hormones and sensitive young hearts. Sharp nose, intelligent brown eyes, and pretty smile—she could’ve been a real heartbreaker back then if she weren’t hanging out with you. She could’ve been everything, because this town is too simple, too small for a girl of her caliber.
Turn your eyes away before she could notice. Broken out of your train of thought, you start to notice how your bag knocks your spine repeatedly. Painfully. With the way your notebooks from years and years ago are bumping around in there, you’d think you were carrying a luggage good enough to give you a week’s worth of supplies.
“Ugh.” Eunbi pinches her nose irritably, allows the sounds to continue for a good three seconds, then pulls the source off you. "Dumbass. Alright, now tell—”
“No. Become a nun. Live a good life. Go eat ice cream with Chaewon or something.”
“She likes mint chocolate, so no. I’m never eating that shit.”
“You’ll live.”
“Oh, I will”—she taps your bag, smiling evilly—”and I’ll take the bag with me.”
You sigh loudly. “Eunbi.”
Oh no, don’t get it wrong: she’s always like this. It's not just today that she pushes your buttons, catty with her negotiations and even more so when you turn them down. She discreetly takes control with a sleight of hand, and you never see it coming. You wish luck to whoever smug kindergartner she’ll be an educator to in the future. She’ll quickly show him his place, just like she’s shown you yours.
“What?” she says with a derisive smirk. She pulls on the arms of the backpack to boost its weight up. “No tell, no bag.”
At this point—
“I don’t give a fuck, Eunbi,” you spit. "You have bigger things to worry about.”
Pause. You briefly consider telling her how your grand day was shattered by your own self and thinking, but you don’t want to bother her. She's your best friend. You shouldn't be making her listen to your woes.
Close your mouth; you didn’t even realize it was hanging open for a while.
You exhale through your nostrils. “Do yourself a favor and take care of something else.”
You walk away. That was supposed to be the end of the story. It's the hashtag at the end of an article, the death of the conversation. But wide strides can’t keep her from coercing an answer out of you.
You know that because she’s suddenly pulled you by the wrist then so close to herself that even your cloaks can’t bar yourselves from each other. Her body presses below your chest. Her stern eyes hush you. You can quite literally feel her breathing.
“I think I can handle it,” she says, gaze steady and chin lifting, “much more if it’s you.”
Okay, so maybe you underestimated how intimidating she can get.
She’s a small girl, lying her way into five foot three, but she’s surprisingly strong. You’re more than aware of that to avoid testing if her palm on your heart is sturdy. Her fierce glare, needling into your integrity, is something new. Frightening, too. Her jaw—(oh, and you can never give that perfectly cut line it’s incredibly lucky to possess a normal glance)—is tight with determination.
For a moment, you think you know how to speak but just forgot to completely.
You get the hang of it after a few seconds when you crack a smile. “Can’t tell you anything if you got your hands on me, little raindrop.”
Eunbi squints her eyes, then folds her arms neatly. “A silver rain drop. And I’m not little, I’m one sixty flat.”
“Take that cap off and we’ll see.”
You’re not exactly a top student, but you’re smart enough to run away before she whacks you with her rolled diploma.
-
(It somehow lightens your mood, because if there’s anything you love more than your phone and street food, it’s Eunbi’s tiny, challenging self trying to one you up. Her light punches are like package peanuts trying to make a dent in you. And it’s just so adorable seeing her face turn dark as she aims for you, and fails.
Oh, and it’s all in good banter. It wouldn’t be a friendship if those jabs were spiteful. There are a lot of relationships out there, both platonic and not so, where insults are masked behind “jokes” and jokes behind insults—you’re glad that doesn’t count for you and her.
But even if we’re to say that Eunbi’s cornering you to the wall, suddenly having grown taller than you, and snarls, with a knife to your throat, “Say good night forever,” you’d kiss her and tell her: “I won’t let the bedbugs bite.”)
-
"Two, please. Thank you."
Slip the paper bills in the vendor's brown, rough hand and slap yours back on Eunbi's shoulder. You’re still surprised at the bareness you feel, then you remember she's since stuffed her toga in your backpack because of the heat. Now she’s wearing a sundress that flows around her like water.
Look at her discreetly. You’re wondering how she managed to hide all… that. The fabric fits and compliments her figure too much to go unnoticed. You have to pretend to be curious about the boiling process of the eomuk again to avoid staring at her slim arms.
"I still don't get why you call me that," she says. She pulls the drooping strap of her dress back up her shoulder, and you swear you’re gonna lose it.
Take deep breaths. You can do this. "Call you what?"
"You know." She daintily taps away a bead of sweat from her forehead and looks up at you. "'Little raindrop.'"
You return her stare eye for an eye. You have to admit it was a feeble attempt. Whenever you look at her, you're overcome with the realization that she's just so beautiful. Her brows are naturally curved and shaded, and there’s just the tiniest dimple at the side of her mouth when she smiles hard. Who in the world just has a face like that?
But you can't dwell on it. It's a dangerous premise, and you're a rightful coward.
"Ah." Your fingers tap comfortable rhythms on her skin. "Because… hm. Bi means rain, right? And you’re small, a.k.a little. So there you have it."
A crowd sifts through the streets and roads opposite your university, and occasionally daring motorists. Graduates fill the sidewalks to purchase street food. It's been this cramped since forever. You can't believe this is the last time you'd ever see this commotion: nameless faces that have matured through the years occupying every space, scentful smoke that wafts in the air, and, of course, the familiar sight of these stalls on wheels catering to young'uns like you short on cash.
Now that you think it over once more, perhaps you'll miss this place more than you thought you would.
"Well, would you say it, uh…” Eunbi taps her chin. “Hm, derogatively?"
"Oh, come on," you say, shaking your head emphatically, "I would never."
"Good, because I just lost your bag."
Your eyelids suddenly stop drooping. Realize only this second that you haven't felt torn fabric on the shoulder you’ve been caressing.
"Eunbi, what the—"
"Kidding, it's right here." Eunbi lifts it up in the air cheekily. "Gotcha."
"Oh, fuck off," you groan. Push her away, but not so much that she's out of arm's length. There are people whose intentions aren't so nice in this crowd.
Eunbi's adorable, you have to admit. Every day that rises is April Fools Day for her. She loves pulling pranks on you and commits to the bit perfectly. It’s been like this since… forever. It’s like you were born knowing her.
With all that fake innocence on her face when she tells you a white lie for her prank’s sake, she could be an actress. For a moment, you wonder what you'll do if she does become one, if she finds out that she's more than this place is worth. Would she leave you with no warning? Make a name for herself and never bother to reach out?
You gulp a little. That could happen even without the entertainer job. You've been friends with her for ages. One day, she'll grow tired of you and seek brighter horizons. Finer places. Better men.
"You alright there?" Eunbi asks.
You envy her for a lot of things—her charm, her easy way of making new friends, those legs that she’s worked hard to tone. But right now, you’re jealous because she isn’t privy to all those things that run in your mind about wanting to do things to her. Stupid things like hold her hand, tell her something you shouldn’t, the works.
Jealousy won’t amount to anything, so you just nod. It's not like there's much to say that you won't be embarrassed of saying later.
"Well—"
Just in time, the kind vendor raises two eomuks from the bubbling broth. The delicious scent makes your mouth water. "There you go," he says in his usual jolly way that always makes you laugh. "Congrats on the graduation!"
"Thanks!" Eunbi says, always the first to be grateful. She takes hers and the aforementioned dimple on her cheek shows itself again. Your chest squeezes.
"Don't forget me when you're rich." His jovial face almost looks sentimental. "One for the gentleman and one for his girlfriend."
Your smile fades into a nervous line. "She's not my girlfriend," you say carefully.
It's more embarrassing each time you have to say it. Are you too close with her? Probably; your arm is always around her and she's one of the few consistent friends you have. She's been by your side longer than anyone. People are gonna think something’s going on along the way.
The vendor nods mockingly, as if to say “yeah, sure,” and winks at Eunbi. She winks back, but fails to halfway—her left eye scrunches up.
"Don't listen to him," you tell her. You walk away from the crowd; it's suddenly begun to feel warmer than usual. "He likes to play around a lot. Even in first year he was like that.”
“Eh. It's not like he said anything bad.” She sinks her teeth into the skewered food and shrugs.
"It's invasive."
"Invasive," she repeats thoughtfully, (chewing thoughtfully, too.) “Okay. But how?”
"Because… ‘cause…" Suddenly, you find there's no appropriate reason you could dream up to justify your uneasiness. "It's, you know, strange when people do that."
“I don’t mind, honestly.”
You find that you swallow on nothing rather than the delicious treat you’re holding.
The place becomes too much, with the heated smoke eventually making Eunbi hack a cough and the sweaty people surrounding you more than they should. So you squeeze between them with her and go on for a resolute walk down the road. Just a few blocks up ahead, you can see the sun setting. It reflects back and pours a hefty amount of light on your figures. Your shadows synchronize with your steps.
“You don’t?” you ask, just to make sure you heard her right. The possibility of her being so comfortable with you that she isn’t bothered to be called yours… it’s a lot to handle. She shouldn’t just place that on your shoulders and expect you not to buckle.
Try to keep your knees from folding at the idea as you walk down the familiar streets. The roads reside in a subdivision that's humbler than the others, hence the houses being small and more trees standing above you. But you don't mind—you need a break from the urban place anyway.
Your university stays a little near the border between them. That's why more street food stalls come up to view and a few thrift stores. Is this the last time you'll come here?
The last time you'll see her?
“No. Why would I? Alright, now that we’ve got things all nice and settled…” Eunbi takes your wrist. Tightly. She's not going anywhere, and neither are you. “Back to telling.”
“Telling you what?”
“You really wanna play dumb with me?” She presses the point of her skewer to your stomach, seizing you by the waist. “Get those words out. Now.”
"Hit me."
"Two things, right? So answer me." Eunbi's fingers wrap tighter around your flesh. "Why were you crying in the bathroom? What happened?"
Oh.
That.
You're quiet. You look only forward, not daring to meet Eunbi's eyes. If anything, the stick could dig into your guts and it would be infinitely better than having to admit you’re weak. You’ll have to tell her one day. You’ll have to admit that you’re not a better guy just because you’re the only one who has the balls to approach her—you’re just like the rest of them. Nothing special. Grades barely there. Average, probably not even so. Everything but nothing.
“I wasn’t crying,” you say. You can’t remember what happened anyway, but saying what you do leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.
The eomuk stick drops to the ground with barely a click. “Are you lying?”
It’s rare that her voice gets solemn. It’s less rare that you rush behind words to cover yourself.
You fix the mortarboard on her head so that it doesn’t slip past her brows. The staff didn’t quite take her measurements properly, so you had to tip the cap backwards. Good enough. “Think you can figure that one out yourself, Eunbi.”
You give her a look that tells her all that she needs to know. It’s not like you can explain properly with this state of mind. What else can you say?
What else can she say?
Perhaps:
“Please.”
Everything stops.
Eunbi takes your hand, which looks large in comparison to her pale one, and traces a finger along your knuckles. Look down at them—those are the days that’ll go by, the months that’ll lose themselves into the void of timeless time. It could never be the same if fate wills itself to change one of these days, and you wouldn’t even know it. Not even a warning.
“It’s just me.” Her voice thins, and you figure out that she’s sort of like you, too: it’s not rare for her to hide behind words and wit. “I’m your friend. You can tell me anything. Please tell me what happened, okay? I hate seeing you get upset.”
You wish you could tell her that it’s the same on your end. Eunbi’s the girl you let climb in your lap after a thunderstorm provoked her, the girl you comforted after she had her heart broken by the man she was convinced was the one. Through it all, you tried to be strong for her, but there’s little foundation to build from.
The side of your mouth twitches upward. “Do you now?”
Eunbi’s shoulders descend as they release a tired little sigh. She nods, refusing to say anything until you take the lead.
“Well, if you want to hear the whole story,” you say as you ring an arm around her, “I was already having a pretty shit day to begin with.”
“Why?” She chews on her lip. Pink gets on her teeth.
“Didn’t feel like I deserved to graduate.”
See, there are a lot of justifications as to why you didn’t deserve to go on stage and receive your diploma. You aren’t worthy of this toga and hat when you’ve barely accomplished anything compared to the others. They’ve already scored internships and some even sealed some higher positions in well-off companies. You, on the other hand, haven’t got anything going on for you.
That rings true for as far back as first year. You cheated (rarely) but still barely passed. Studied but never got the answers right for the test. Kept a strong face but you’re still in pieces on the inside. Now that you’re graduating, you’re the same guy after all that time.
“I had a… very weird time in there trying to get myself together,” you say. “I did nothing to make mom proud. I just bullshit my way through college.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Eunbi hums quietly. Is that her side pressed to your hip? You suck in a breath.
“I mean, sure, but look at how far they got. I’m still in square one.”
“Different speeds for different people,” she says wisely, looking down at her shoes that begin their steps at the heel. “You don’t have to beat yourself up for going at your own pace.”
You chuckle deprecatingly. “When I’m a dumbass, I should.”
“You’re not.”
“You literally admitted you had a hunch I was stupid when I thought your name was Geumbi.”
“No, no, that was a long time ago. I was like, fourteen. It wasn’t my fault. And neither was it yours.”
She steals a bite from your food. A withdrawal from her as she finishes her robbery and yet you bring her back. Do it by stopping, then wiping away the broth on her lower lip with your thumb. Where did that come from?
Eunbi’s frozen. For a moment, she says nothing. She pauses, then looks up at you. Just a simple look from her makes you weak. There are galaxies in her eyes.
“Actually,” says Eunbi, hand floating to your wrist—her voice is soft, “you’ve got to stop thinking everything’s your fault.”
Where should your touch go when all it yearns for is hers?
It's easier said than done, too. Therapy fills your brokenness yet it drains out anyway. All those methods and you can't stick to one. Everything bad that happens is your fault. It's like you're connected to them all.
“I’ll try." Your words barely pass audibility. Should you be ashamed? "I don’t like this either.”
Eunbi presses her lips to the back of your hand then goes on strolling like she didn’t just save you from another spiral. Haughtiness rides her tone. Yep, she knows she’s your anchor. “You can start by carrying your own bag instead of me doing—” She pauses. All the sass is gone; just pure fear. “Shit.”
Your forehead creases and you look around. Nothing out of the normal, just the birds of seldomness and trees that sway with the wind. “What?”
“Don’t be mad at me.” Eunbi bites her lip anxiously. “Promise me. Please.”
“What is it?”
She tells you.
-
“Eunbi lost your backpack?”
For the hundredth time: “Yes.”
"Like actually?"
"Yep."
“With the notes and sketches you had? What the hell?”
“God, you don’t have to rub it in like that.” You navigate through the streets and try to catch onto anyone perhaps holding a familiar satchel. Nobody fits the description. “We didn’t notice until we were alone.”
You and Eunbi do the very thing characters in horror movies shouldn’t do: you split up. She returns to the food vendors to ask around. They’d cater better to a face like that. You’re left to do the hard work and follow random people to see if they’ve brought away a bag. You really should have reversed roles, but Eunbi’s gone now. You can’t call it off.
The crowds are starting to dissipate, but that doesn’t make your hunt for your bag easier. Whoever stole it must have thought it was his lucky day. That shit was thrifted off a store, but it could sell for thousands if refined just right.
All those documents, lecture takeaways, pencils…
It’s not like they matter anymore. You wouldn’t dream of going back to school, so they won’t have much use in the long run. But those things played a major part in your life, especially in college. Losing it feels like missing a piece of a puzzle you spent nights completing.
“That’s so damn irresponsible of her. Not like her, too. She's a fucking—”
“—adult. Like me. Yes. We’ve gone over this.”
You must look like a local pervert right now, peering at people’s lower sides in search of your treasure. You hope they don’t get you wrong. Women are already giving you dirty looks though. Shit, you’re going nowhere with this.
“You don’t have to defend her every time she does something,” mutters your friend Sakura from the other line. Her accent has lost its origins a long time ago. Now, it carries teasing scorn.
Where the fuck could your bag be? Turn your head to the right, then to the left. There you go, you’re a fucking bobblehead doll. Feel even more ridiculous. It’s all a little humiliating, exposing a vulnerability to people you don’t know. Hey, look at me! I can’t find something important! And I can’t ask you for help because that would mean I’m a shameless piece of shit with no dignity and I’m too childish to graduate and—
“I’m not defending her, Miyawaki,” you blurt out, a little louder than you’d like. More dirty and judgmental looks. Always the centerpiece, you, and for all the wrong reasons. “Go back to gaming, can you?”
“Ha. You’re the one who called me and said, ‘Oh no, I’m with Eunbi again and I’m so in love with her!’” Sakura lets out a smug little laugh. “Just ask her out, dumbass. That way you won’t have to play attorney all the time.”
“I’m not asking her out, dumbass. She's just a friend.”
“Ask her out or Hyewon will. Hyem’ll say shit like, ‘She can lose my bag anytime—“
“Hey.” Eunbi comes up empty-handed. Her words are heavier with each passing fragment. She doesn’t have to say them for you to know her search was fruitless, just like yours was. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see it. I asked around, too.”
Your hopes are dashed. “Call you back,” you whisper into the phone.
“Tell me how the date goes!”
With a small beep, Sakura is gone, (thankfully.) (And so is her song about you and your best friend sitting in a tree doing something so lewd you could only spell it out.) It’s just you and Eunbi, in the gentle end-of-September sunset.
“Now, would you look at that.” Eunbi laughs sarcastically. Sweat usually drips from the side of the face, right? Not the front? She throws her hands up and places them back down her sides anyway. “I guess I did lose the bag after all.”
Something’s wrong. What is it?
You stare at her, not knowing what to say. It is kind of ironic in a biting-you-back-in-the-ass way that Eunbi’s kidding threat about losing your stuff actually came true.
“You sure you didn’t see it anywhere?” you ask. You’re starting to lose determination. And for what? You did say you didn’t give a damn about it earlier. How easily your words come to you when you only think of yourself.
“W-well—”
Yep, there's definitely something wrong. Kwon Eunbi doesn’t stutter. Unless she’s mocking Minju, who’s almost always nervous, or does aegyo as a punishment, she doesn’t trip over her words. “What?”
“Fuck it, I’m sorry, okay?”
Tears come too easily even to the gutsy Eunbi. It’s always been her Achilles’ heel. She’s a great and friendly leader, but one nice word that hits her right where it needs it or a bad day has her reduced to sobs. She smiles through them, wiping the teardrops with the end of her wrist.
“And don’t tell me it’s fine just because I’m crying,” she says. The frustration gets to her and soon her sobs attract attention. “It was, a-a shitty thing to do on my end. I know it’s not okay, but I’m sorry.”
She’s a tearful painter of emotions under a night littered with starry skies.
She doesn’t have to hold the brush for the two of you all the time.
Take the brush from her just like how you take her into your arms. Eunbi says not to absolve her of her sin, but you’re a god whose mercy merges with bias. You like her too much. There’s something that pulls at your chest whenever she breaks down.
The tension partially leaves her stiff shoulders. She sniffles, and it’s an attack straight to your heart. It’s so rare that she becomes so weak.
“Eunbi—”
She shakes her head before you could go on. “Don’t say it. Please. Let me make it up to you.”
“I’ll say it anyway. It’s fine. I can’t use the stuff in there anyway.”
“I said no. Hmph.” Her tears blot the front of your shirt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I would cry like this. Don't feel guilty, okay? Okay? I just don’t like giving you a hard time.”
“You never could.” You’d trade more than a backpack for Eunbi’s wellbeing.
Somehow, Eunbi cries more. Her hug circles your waist in almost a chokehold, and you realize that the Kwon Eunbi from years back—the one who made everyone call her Madison, the one who’s always glued to your side—is still here. She’s just older, a little braver, and prettier than you could ever imagine.
Emphasis on the last. Her lashes carry her tears in a biblically beautiful manner, like you ought to kneel and venerate her. The southward curl of her lips is so cute yet painful that you’d give anything to see them lift again.
“You don’t have to say I didn’t do anything wrong…” she tells you quietly. You could hear the guilt infecting her words, evident in the cracks of her voice.
“Well.” You touch your mouth on her hairline. “You have a way of making me say it.”
There’s no mourning for your bag. You suspect that there was none at all, perhaps just shock? Must be why you’re cradling her, like a child would to a doll at night, and letting her feel your touch. Maybe the way she’s closing herself into your embrace is platonic, because at the end of day, you’re still friends. But you don’t feel her breath on your skin for a while after you indirectly forgive her.
Eunbi lifts her face from the comfort of your front. Pouting, she then laughs a little. “What are you doing? You don’t have to be so sweet.”
“I could be sweeter,” you offer. She sighs loudly, tired of your mischief; you grin and pat the small of her back. “Come on, let’s go home.”
The night has downed the temperature, and now the breeze whips her small form back and forth. It’s too cold for her to be walking with no sleeves or at least trousers. So you lift your toga up and slip it around her. It’s bigger than the one she had and lost with your bag. Her hands barely fight their way out of being hidden under the long blue sleeves.
Her eyes reduce to suspicious slits while a smile pastes itself on her lips. “You’re a flirt, you know that?”
You shrug casually. “Born and raised.”
“That’s not how you use it,” Eunbi says, wiping the last of her tears.
"Might as well go on. I opened the can of worms, now I'll lie in it."
"Jesus."
"What? I made my bed more than I could, now I'll eat it."
“Wow, it’s like you never listened to professor June.”
Wasn’t it just afternoon a few minutes ago? The sky has become a blueish black landscape. The only sources that provide illumination to the streets and alleys are the streetlights and moon, plus the twelve especially bright stars etched into the map of constellations.
“Okay, miss Oh My Gadnis,” you fire back. She gives you a dirty look. You immediately take it back.
She throws her head back and lets darkness take over her vision for a while. Gulp. The light welcomes itself back and she lets out a prolonged, wistful breath. Tiny sobs glaze it. “It’s Minju’s fault. She was always shouting that in the dorm. Makes me kind of miss her.”
In the last years of university, Eunbi made friends with eleven girls. She was the leader of their friend group, the one who made plans and provided solutions. But as graduation crept closer and eventually caught up with them, she won’t be seeing them much again.
“I can always drive you to your meet-ups. Didn’t get a driver’s license for nothing.”
“You don’t have to. I already fucked up your day.”
“You didn’t. It’s just a bag, little raindrop.”
The chilly atmosphere tracks your nighttime conversation with your best friend. What do the songbirds, sleeping yet eavesdropping, think of you and her? Does the moon brighten to increase your shadows? It’s like they’re listening in.
She looks down at the edges of her shoes as they mark their path to home. “What brand was it? I’ll buy you a new one. I-I’ll send the notes to you.”
“No can do. Just do this one thing.”
And now, the night quiets.
When time has chipped away at the lack of lines on your faces and brought forth hell, you’ll be there. Together. You won’t go back here anymore, but there will be prettier places for you and her. It’s what you pray for though you’re not all that spiritual, but you know it’s what you want.
“Let’s… be friends until we’re old and miserable,” you ask of her. Even admitting that you want to be with her makes you shy, and you’re anything than that when you’re around her. So why is this happening? Why are you doing this? “Spend more time together. Doesn’t have to be something grand.”
Eunbi blinks at you. There are undertones to your words, some kind of hidden message a veteran film critic could pick apart if your life were a movie. You’re asking her to be with you, yet there’s depths to it, almost like you’re telling her another thing.
“Sure,” she whispers, nodding. She can do that.
Again, a lot of subtext. But that’s for another night.
“Oh,” you add, “and be my backpack since you lost it anyway. Get up.”
Eunbi flinches, but she’s smiling the second you lower yourself for her.
“Come on. You’re tired, little raindrop. I’ll take you home.”
She sighs. She climbs on your back anyway. You support her legs with your forearms and boost her up. You pay your gratitude to the dark for hiding your flushed cheeks at the feeling of your friend’s body pressed so tight to yours.
“Please don’t do silly shit,” she begs, placing her face next to your neck and fearing the worst.
She’s right to be frightened. Lowering yourself nearly to the ground in preparation, you yell: “Here comes the rollercoaster!”
“No, no, no—ahhhh!”
You zoom Eunbi in the night, feet picking up speed and racing through the road. Her arms are rounded around your neck. She shrieks in delight, and while along the way your legs start to ache, you’re just glad to hear that laugh again.
-
Gently push the door to your house open with the help of Eunbi's keys, which come with a keychain of a knitted rabbit. Darkness greets you, spreading itself around the house like water.
“Why is it so dark?” whispers Eunbi, looking around and twisting her arms around your neck tighter.
“You’re such a baby," you chuckle. "It's nighttime, of course it's gonna be dark."
Eunbi whines and squeezes her legs around you. The feel of her fluffy thighs in the curve of your palms—it's… something. You can't think like that about her when she's your best friend, but she's so close, so perfect on top of you that your mind runs with ideas.
"Alright, fine. Turn on the light."
"Where?"
"You’ve slept over so many times and you don't know where it is?"
"Doesn't count when I can't see, genius."
"Right here." Twist your head to the wall, where a light switch stays. "Just near the door."
Eunbi reaches out her hand, and you're cohorts with the dark when you secretly inch the fluff of your sleeve against her fingers. She screeches, suddenly struggling, calling your name and whoever Fuck is.
This is the way of your prank backfiring on you: her limbs are surprisingly strong that her feather-light weight becomes too much. Your legs start to shiver. Your hands weren’t made to suffer this much wildness.
"Something touched me!" Eunbi screams, kicking you in the spine. You try to hold on to her but her legs don't behave. "A mouse, a mouse, a—"
You start to laugh. She's like a proactive rabbit trying to beat you up. "Calm down, it was just—"
"My hand, it touched my hand! Disgusting piece of shit, get it off—"
"Eunbi!"
She both clings onto you and pushes you away, scared of what lurks in the dark. You can't take it anymore and drop miserably to the floor. The tiles knock your back out. Eunbi won’t let go of you; her screams never stop.
"Help! My hand—"
"What's going on here?"
The light flickers on, letting you see what's happening. You're in the living room that connects portallessly to the dining room. The ceiling generates dizzy circles above you. And then there's Sakura, an unexpected presence, standing near you.
"Whoa there," she remarks, smug like she’s a journalist who caught a forbidden celebrity couple. "There's a time and place for this, right?"
For a moment, you wonder what she's talking about. You sit up and realize Eunbi's squeezed herself on your lap, with your arms tangled into hers during the mess.
Flush red. Sakura will never let you hear the end of this: you cradling Eunbi on the floor, with her looking so comfortable snuggled up to your touch. “Something couple something something perfect for each other,” that's what Sakura would say.
"It was just a prank," you mumble to the girl on your lap. Pat her head. Show her the fluffy fabric cuff of your sleeve. "See? There's no mouse."
"What the hell? You're such an asshole!" Eunbi's blade-sharp gaze, it cuts through you. You want to keep bleeding, It's unfair how pretty she is even when she's angry.
"Hey, I can do pranks, too." Turn to Sakura, because the next thing you're wondering is how she's here. "How did you get in, Miyawaki?"
"I drove," she says, like it explains everything. "Should we eat? Your dad left some food in the microwave."
Eunbi turns shy at Sakura's knowing look as she rises. She pulls you up. The veins in her forearm flex.
Sakura leaves anyway to fetch the food. You can smell spring rolls and freshly-cooked rice. Your stomach churns—running with Eunbi on your back has burned all that eomuk and left you hungry.
You look at Eunbi questioningly. "Do you know why she's in my house?"
"No.” She returns your curious expression. “I was hoping you would tell me."
“Christ, what's she doing here?"
"I'm here," butts in the Japanese girl, bringing forth a plate of crispy rolls and utensils, "because I personally want to help Eunbi unnie in making it up to you.”
She takes the liberty of scooping chunks of rice onto your plates. You dig your fork through one of the spring rolls, place it on Eunbi’s small plate, then get one for yourself. The wooden image of Jesus on watches you closely. You’re suddenly aware of every little sin you’ve made.
“Listen,” says Sakura, and you do just that.
So here’s Sakura’s brilliant idea, funded by her and her friends (somehow, Eunbi doesn’t get to contribute a cut): a trip for Christmas.
It’s out in Seoul, where it’s snowing at that time of the year, where you’ll get to roam the city and buy whatever you want—all on the house. There’s ice skating to do and restaurants to try, each new and exciting. You’ve never been to Seoul before, but the way Sakura narrates the whole plan makes you look forward to it.
She talks about how her new job is paying her great, and how the fact that the other girlfriends Eunbi has are chipping in makes it an all-in-all win. It’s a friend’s duty, she says, to stick up for when one of them is down, and since Eunbi made a mistake, she’ll gladly take the blame. You’re surprised at how dedicated the girls are. You’ve never seen a bond so deep that they’d pay thousands just for compensation. And for just a thrifted old bag, too.
It’s inevitable that you agree. You have nothing to lose. This is a chance of a lifetime, and you’d love to have a vacation anyway.
Sakura only has one stipulation:
You have to go with Eunbi.
-
Now it’s not that Eunbi is hard to be around, but she kinda is. It’s not in the usual way—she’s your best friend, not any other girl, and she’s not overly dependent that you have to act as her father or something. She can take care of herself, which can’t be said about a lot of people.
But this is what sets you off: you’ll be the only one with her in Seoul. A guy and a girl sharing a hotel room. Would it be awkward? Of course. How do you tell her that you won’t look when she dresses up? What do you tell her if you find her bra in your sheets?
Still, she’s your best friend. It shouldn’t be awkward around friends, especially when you’re on the journey of spending more time together. That’s the whole point of the relationship: to be free and careless around someone. It’s supposed to be like that until you see how pretty she actually is, with the flow of her long hair and the crinkle of her eyes.
That’s where it gets difficult. Really, really difficult.
“Hey,” she says, and that’s what breaks your reverie. Looking up at her, however, has you drowned in another.
Black-framed glasses sit on her nose, curling at the ends behind her ears. Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail, some fringes flying free from the band. It’s such a deadly attack. Then there’s the graphic shirt that hugs her too tight and the denim shorts that cut too close to the starts of her thighs.
You gulp. When you thought Eunbi couldn’t get prettier, she proves you wrong.
“You like it?” she asks. She twirls around. “I got glasses.”
“I see that,” you reply. Why is your chest immoveable?
Eunbi grins. “I couldn’t say that until I went to EO.”
You force out a laugh. You look at your phone, scrolling through your feed in search of a little reprieve from how pretty she is. At this point, it’s a constant run around your mine: Kwon Eunbi is so pretty. And she’s not just pretty, too. That’s what makes her so beautiful: the duo of feistiness and painful attractiveness. Can you say that? No. But that doesn’t mean you can’t think it.
The first thing Eunbi does when she takes the seat opposite you is swipe a finger through your ice cream. Glare at her. She beams at you. Your reprimand dissolves.
“How’d you know where I was?”
“Lucky guess,” she says. She decorates the sides of her face with her palms as she looks at you curiously. “What you thinking about?”
You. “I’m still not sure about the whole trip thing.”
"Come on," she says, and that pout knows how to break away at your attempts to ever hold her accountable for anything. "It's only weird if you make it weird."
Weird is fitting for October anyway. Should have ordered that Halloween special instead of this.
You were a solo customer in the ice cream parlor until Eunbi came out of nowhere. She always knows where to find you. Telepathy? Power of friendship? Power of something more than that?
You don't want to think about it.
"It's Sakura," you say, testily, as you shove another spoonful of double dutch in your mouth. The sweetness can't melt your anxiety. "It's always weird when it's Sakura."
Eunbi considers this. "What about when it’s me?"
“What?”
“I said: is it weird when it’s me?”
She’s clever at finding ways to make you stutter. “No,” you tell her quickly, “it’s not you, I promise. Just… it’s only us.”
You and Eunbi, alone in a hotel room. A straight man and woman in the same place, with nobody else around. You have fantasies about how it ends, but you know it'll never happen. But the thing is: you're stupid. You're going to do something you shouldn't, like watch her as she pulls long stockings over her legs. Think about more details than the shadow of her body on the glass shower panels let on. Want your best friend when it's everything you should never do.
“Is that so bad?” Eunbi sighs and looks around, thinking. As she takes in the jolly retro style of the parlor and the waitresses, she continues, “I mean, if you want to, I can find another way to, like, make things good. I can tell Sakura to call it off—”
“No!”
She looks at you surprisedly. Always, you speak before you think. To be fair, there’s a single thought behind your too-fast outburst: you can’t let this opportunity pass by. But rather than the grand city lights and expensive restaurants, you think about her.
You cover your mouth. Shit. You have no worries about fucking up in front of her. The worst thing she’d do is make a reference to it in future conversations or joke about it. But right now you’ve just revealed your true intentions.
You’re lucky Eunbi never takes things to heart.
“Okay, fine, geez.” She chuckles lightly, shaking her head at you. “You really need a vacation, huh?”
The only thing you need is silver rain, but you somehow always wield an umbrella.
-
“Do you like it?”
It’s what Eunbi says, on her knees before she sucks your tip. Groan you must because that tongue is too talented. It’s a skill you could only make faint guesses where it originated. For that, you don’t care anyway—not when she’s slipping and wrapping those perfect lips around your cock, the intent suction making you reel into her face. Almost knocks her specs away, and you wouldn’t want that to happen, would you? Her appeal just goes to an all-time high with them.
“Fuck, yes, Eunbi,” you say. “I love—”
“No. Now that I think about it, you don’t actually get to speak.” She teases your testicles and nurses on one, her hand attending to your stiff erection. “Not until I have my way with you.”
And she does. She switches back to your cock then, like an expert, she bobs her little head up and down, taking you in her throat like it was nothing. The chest of her tight shirt is stained with precum, and some of the foretelling liquid is in her hair. But when has she cared about that? Never, not in the time continuum of this room. She only likes to keep the propriety of servicing you, no matter how red her knees are or how sore her jaw gets.
Eunbi teases her tongue on the lower side of your cock then brings her lips up. You hiss. Her throat welcomes you again, and, with a hand on your thigh, she makes it work. She’s choking, and yet the clever little thing is so diligent with her work. Through choke and sob, those teary eyes looking up at you for validation, she continues. Spit dots your cock and so does lipstick. It’s smudged at the side of her chin.
She licks your cockhead repeatedly. It’s swollen, and she takes advantage of it by licking. And sucking. Then licking it again so rapidly you start to shake.
There’s a greedy glimmer in her tears. “Gonna cum?” she asks. “Please? I want you to.”
Fingers wrapping around your base, she goes down again. Her nose touches your pubic area. You can feel her hot breath tickling your flesh when she rises for a brief and subtle breath. Then it repeats: Kwon Eunbi is forcing her head up and down, lips wet with saliva and precum. The texture of her tight throat and the welcoming pleasure of her mouth brings you too close. Too damn close—
Fill her throat with white so much that she squeals in surprise. A little adorable giggle, then some more hardworking sucking to work your cum out of you. You want to tell her that you’ve become too sensitive, that she shouldn’t continue. But then you never want it to stop.
“Fuck! Eunbi, Eunbi, Eunbi—”
That’s what you say when she continues despite her breaths getting lost.
“Good girl. Good pretty girl.”
That’s what you say, with your hand on her ponytail, tugging it so she gets access to the oxygen she willingly deprived herself of. Her mouth’s filled with your semen. She’s gasping. Her chin’s lifted to the sky but her eyes gaze only at you. Your approval isn’t what she needs to get by solely, but god, does it make her think so.
“I love you.”
That’s what she says.
But like everything else—this blowjob that made you fail November’s challenge, the sweet talk, her on her knees, her actually liking you—
It could only ever be in your imagination.
-
December couldn’t come any sooner. Packing was an eventful occasion. You bunched up a lot of underwear in your carry-on like you had a habit of pissing yourself. It was only when you got to the airport that you realized that in all the rage to get clean underwear, you didn’t bring socks.
The twenty-third was a day you both dreaded and yearned for. But then you’re in the airplane, traveling through clouds you used to stare up at, and Eunbi’s beside you. Isn’t she always? She falls asleep a couple of times in the airport, head on your shoulder, and you pat her knee to slumber her. Her Sanrio neck pillow is of no use when you’re a better one.
Why can't you stop staring? She's been a tear in your heart for a long time, making it pulse and ache, but now she's gotten so much prettier, so much more friendly that it isn't really unexpected that you fall for her. Is that your confession to yourself? Perhaps. You could only ever say it to your own heart.
Picture this, (and, matching that of the many other scenes you’ve dreamed of her in, it would only be real for a while): Eunbi's wearing that shirt from the day she first sported glasses. On your lap. Looking at you with an aura any man with a heterosexual drawing could read. Hands on the edges of her knees.
She's leaning over, and she's saying—
"That little witch,” she spits, shoving her carry-on, “I can't believe we fly at seven and we had to be here at two a.m., I'm gonna kill Sakura!"
Close enough?
"You got a mouth on you, huh?" you remark. Pull her wheeled suitcase to the mouth of the plane.
Seoul is a paradise. You could see the greatness even from above. A couple of times you have Eunbi wake up to look, and she does. Her evident happiness shines brighter than the city lights.
"It's beautiful," she murmurs excitedly. Even her eyes that are heavy with sleep appreciate the view.
"So it is."
But you could think of other things that are prettier. Other people.
It's autumn, and the golden leaves are starting to fall. They crumple beneath your feet and release crackles that bring a strange sense of satisfaction. Step on another one. And another one. Somehow all your troubles are gone.
Look at her.
She’s reading from a book, paging through leaves containing yellowed words. She looks like a nerdy girlfriend with the new look, which you still haven’t gotten over. In any case, she’s so beautiful, and again, your heart is sore.
Eunbi’s deep into the story woven with Shakespearean words, but she catches your prolonged stare. Blinking, she lifts her head. Smiles. Cocks her head sweetly to the side and you swear she can’t look any better than this: long dark hair swaying ‘round her face and glasses making her more adorable. Says, “What ya lookin’ at, handsome?”
Yeah, all gone.
Eunbi loves playing around with nicknames, and she must think you’re vain enough for her to use that when she wants to rile you up. (She does.) You roll your eyes, and she laughs at her own ridiculousness and your attempt to be dismissive.
“Someone who’s prettier than ever,” you reply. Raise your chin. “You know her?”
“You really love me, huh?”
“Never said it was you.”
“Oh, darling.” Eunbi licks her lip. “I know it’s me.”
Well, shit.
Eunbi’s the only girl you know who could respond to your teasing. The only person, for that matter. Even the men start to back away. She’s the sole person who can handle you, and you yourself could barely handle her. Good friends don’t suddenly lose their breath when she gets near. Good friends don’t think of ever, ever crossing that borderline between platonicness and romance.
So it’s safe to say you’ve been a bad friend all along.
“Since you’re, like, so obsessed with me…” Eunbi rises and hands you her phone. The phone case is red—of course. “Take a picture of me, please?”
She rises from the bench, and you wince inside at how good she looks. It should seriously be prohibited to look that attractive. You've tried to keep your head clear of her, but then she stands up in those teeny tiny safety shorts, fucking hugging her thighs and that supple backside. Why did she choose to go in that? Not even a skirt to go with it, or dress pants? You’re not one to nitpick at what others wear, but you feel something stirring inside you when she dresses more freely.
And red—it just looks so good on her, doesn't it? That simple tight sweater has you begging for forgiveness. You'd go to a priest, confess your sinful yearning, and you don't think that he'd forgive you after how you describe it.
"Will do," you say, chewing on your lip. "Get to posing. We don't have all day."
"Not to burst your bubble," she tells you, " but we do. But I'm a good girl, so I'll do as you say."
Swallow. Why the fuck is she like this?
"You sure as shit aren't, little rain—"
She bends over.
The question repeats in your head. She bends over, (forward anyway), but if any shameless man were to walk behind her, they'd get an eyeful of her butt. You want to tell her she shouldn't do this, especially when her bottoms grip her thighs as a sole factor. But she's holding her bag in the edges of her fingers and angling her head to the side, and you know you’re over.
"—drop."
Eunbi smirks, haughty and proud. "Cat got your tongue back there?"
"Not even close. Give me a smize."
Proud of yourself for recovering quickly, you snap a photo of Eunbi. The look she gives the camera (you?): relaxed brows, slight pout, the black eyewear being the cherry on top—it's not easy baggage to carry for a man like you.
You put the phone down. Take a breather; you always have to when you're with her. Kwon Eunbi, national heart player. Kwon Eunbi, number one prank puller. Kwon Eunbi—
—your friend. Your best friend.
"What's wrong?" All that confidence evaporates from her as she walks up to you, concern taking its place.
She can be really scary sometimes. How could she be a flirt one second then a sweetheart the next? You're kept guessing, and you're guilty for liking girls like that. But as you study her, look at Kwon Eunbi—her hair and the band that sits atop it, her lips, her face—you kind of figure out that there's no other girl like her.
And that scares you.
"Nothing," you lie. "You wanna go get coffee or something?"
"Actually," she states seriously, rising, "I do wanna go get coffee or something."
-
The twenty-fourth. The malls are crowded with people buying last minute presents, so you and Eunbi sat on the bench outside. It might be Seoul, but you’re not fighting your way through a crowd. While you stayed there and waited for time to feel wrong, a rich woman mistook you for a beggar, pitied you, and gave you a coin. As you stared at the bust on the metal, Eunbi laughed so hard you were not totally uncertain that she was going to throw up.
"We should leave," Eunbi says, "before someone tries to bring you to a damn church basement."
And the scene repeats itself again: you talk with Eunbi, like you've done a million times, as you go to your home for this night and the next. You talk about everything, because conversations come so easily when it's her. Whether it's about stupid people or school or what happened that day, the words flow naturally.
Eunbi bites her lip, hands on her hips. "It's getting late."
"That a problem for you?"
"No. Nope. It's just that… I can't believe it's going to be Christmas tomorrow."
Christmas lost its spark back when you got into college. You've graduated and still you find no solace in the stockings and evergreen trees. School—oh, its deadlines, its pressure, its it-won't-matter-in-five-years-but-I'll-make-you-think-it-will papers—really ruined things for you. Forever.
She drags her vision around everything: the sky of stars, the roads that are just a bit cleaner than the ones at your home, the claw machine arcade just across the sidewalk. She goes there, and you follow. Don’t you always?
"It’s Christmas and we're here," she continues. She manages a snortle. "Doesn't your dad feel lonely? I know mine does."
"He likes you, Eunbi. He doesn't mind."
You pull out a bill and slip it into the old exchanger. Sure enough, tokens spill from the gap. Count them in your palm. Divide it between the two of you. You and Eunbi always share, no matter how hard you try to make it seem annoying. You only ask for one drink and one straw. You split rice balls from that trip in grade eleven when your parents forgot to give you allowance for lunch, up until college when the two of you were too broke to eat anything else. What’s yours is Eunbi’s, and what’s Eunbi’s is yours.
"What first?" She studies the old arcade. It's filled with machines that are either anciently old or freshly new. No owner patrols the areas, but instead, a CCTV does so mounted perfectly on the corner of the walls. It watches your every move, reminding you to behave.
"Wanna get a Piglet?"
“A what?”
“A Piglet. You know, the one who looks like an armadillo.”
“What the fuck is an armadillo?” Eunbi says the English name with spite, almost spitting it into the ground.
“Forget it. I mean like the cartoon pig people say looks like you?”
"Oh. Nah. A good ol’ vibrating egg for me." She thrusts a thumb into the glass of an 18+ claw machine, where it tempts the player with boxed sex toys and hentai copies.
Heat flares at your cheeks. Now it’s not that you’re thinking of it, but it’s Eunbi’s dirty jokes that make you think of stuff you shouldn’t. Her on her bed, legs spread wide open as the toy pulses on her clit, her throwing her head back and crying…
"Spend my money wisely, please?" you croak out. Slip a token into one machine and start to crank at the lever.
"I'll be good."
Your hand curls tighter around the ball of the lever. You hate how you picture double meanings with everything she says. She doesn't deserve that. And you don't either.
Eunbi prances over to the Piglet machine anyway. You want to snicker at her antics, but it gets broken when you see her bend down. The jeans could only hug her backside so much. Her shirt lifts and you could see her tummy—that flat, soft midriff that you’ve wrapped your hands around when you guide her back on the occasion she runs too fast. Or when she needs to move away. She doesn’t mind; she touches you more freely anyway. But you wonder if she’d let you come up behind her and place your hands all over it, not as friends but as something more.
Because for a friend, she sure does take up a lot of your mind.
Put your focus on this keychain. Yes, this one. This keychain is cute. Would be nice to bring something home to your father. You guide the claw to the nearest one and slam the button. To your surprise, the metal actually hinges around the keychain. You could feel your soul lift up to your throat. It just needs to make it all the way to the hole—
“Shit!” you curse as the claw lets go. That can’t be fair, right? It was doing so well, then it just spread open again. What a waste of time and money.
“Loser,” giggles Eunbi. She shows off a Piglet stuffie, pink and simpering.
“Wow, really needed to hear that. Thanks, Eunbi.”
She lifts her shoulders. “Hey, for what it’s worth: I just got lucky.”
Tokens become nothing to you. You try again and again for a prize to make it your money’s worth, only to end up with nothing. Eunbi scores a candy from the kids’ section, and you could see her consider trying out the 18+ ones. The appeal of the Playboy magazines and the Japanese girls looking back lewdly at her with barely no underwear on is beguiling.
“Do you think I should try to get a dildo or something?” Eunbi asks, running her knuckles along the markered glass.
“You don’t even know if it’s clean.” You’re leaning against the outside exchanger, staring into nothingness. But you always manage a little response for Eunbi, as absurd as her questions are and as wild your thoughts are about her. “You might get an STD or some shit.”
Her face squeezes up in disgust. “Ew, right. Forget it.”
You feel her warm body press into your side later. You’re still surprised even though the girl never leaves you alone. Then her head is on your shoulder, just like in the airport, and your heart surges. How do you deal with her? Pet her arm, and somehow she finds a way to sink deeper in your touch. She looks up at you and offers you a kind smile.
“I got you the keychain,” she says. She drops the Seoul keychain on the hand she forced you to open and looks away modestly. “Saw you sweating over it.”
“Thanks.” You look down at it on your palm and feel warm inside. She really is so sweet. “Appreciate it.”
“Yeah,” Eunbi replies quietly. “It’s the least I could do.”
She purses her lips tightly and exhales through her nostrils. Guilt floats in her face like a dark shadow.
“If it’s about the bag, I already told you it’s okay. I mean, it’s just a bag.”
“So? It means a lot to you.”
Your thoughts race with your words and win, forcing them out. “You do, too.”
Is she blushing? No. No, can’t be. But she’s stroking your palm with the keychain on it, a little tilt at the edge of her lips. That’s kind of close to that. Friends do this, right?
Her touch feels both foreign and familiar. You want to reel back and apologize for something you didn’t do, but then you want to hold her. Make her happy. Is that alright?
“Speaking of which,” she says pensively, staring into nothingness like you are, “what do you think happened to it?”
“The bag? I dunno.” Bring back her attention—eyes on me—by actually holding her hand. Sometimes you could be so brave. Toy with it, swinging your joined hands in the air then pressing them to your chest. You laugh at the suspicion clear on her face. “Probably in some lost-and-found counter. Or someone actually stole it and was like, ‘yep, hit the jackpot.’”
“Like trouvaille,” she says.
“What?”
“Trouvaille,” Eunbi repeats. She breaks her gaze from the space on the road and looks down at her sneakers. “A lucky find.”
A lucky find.
Staring at her is your pastime at this point. Your focus glazes over her once more, and you drink her all up. Two locks of her hair are pulled and tied at the back, making her look absolutely gorgeous. You’re lost in her eyes, like they’re an ocean and you’re on a raft floating on its waves. And of course, those glasses—you’re convinced they were made to make you want to do sinful things to her.
But the urge to sweep her in your arms takes over, and it outweighs your lust. Or are they equal? She looks so beautiful, yet so handsome. So pure and sweet, yet such a bombshell.
“Forgive me, but I must reiterate.” She tilts her head with a silly little grin. “What ya looking at?”
You’ve figured it all out. You wonder why you were ever worried.
"Well," you lead a runaway lock of dark hair back behind her earlobe, "guess I’m just lucky to have found you. Even if you're a nuisance."
Her eyes crease up into half-moons. "And I'm lucky to have met you."
"Even… ?"
"Nothing after. Just that: I'm lucky to have met you."
You never meant to actually do it. But it’s become too silent, like the world is leaving the cards on your table to play. And there’s her certain hold on your fingers, like she wants you to do it. There’s the birds tweeting as they gather into the trees for the night, waiting for the show of a lifetime. The stars, too, are bright tonight.
So who could blame you for nailing her to the claw machine and finally, finally kissing her? Her lips are as soft as they look, and you’re melting in them. You’re still holding her hand, keeping it pinned up to her side. Your tongues come out to play and it’s so much better than you imagined, so much better than your stupid little fantasies. Your eyelids shut, too, because this is an experience you never want to end.
That collarbone will be the end of you. It peeks from the neckline of her shirt, and you suddenly have all the courage to seal your lips on it. If only you could have mustered the same courage back in college to socialize, but you’re glad you saved it all up for this moment. Eunbi’s moan is sharp, and it almost makes you falter, almost makes you stop. Nope, can’t do that. When she’s letting out all these other little sounds as you have your way with her, there’s no way you’d let up.
“Hmmm…” Eunbi twists her head to the side and cries out. It unintentionally grants you access to her flawless neck. You leave some flaws: purple bruises she whines at, harsh open-mouthed kisses that trail saliva all over that pale skin. “I need to tell you something.”
You brush your mouth behind her ear. You can smell her faint perfume. “And that is?”
“I lied about wanting to get a drink.” She scoffs at her desperation, then sighs. She gives in either way. “I fucking hate coffee. Hate it. Hate it like a mother hates her firstborn. Or something. Just hate it, hate it, hate it.”
You shake your head. What an unfitting time to say that. Cradle her anyway. “Then why did you get some with me?” you ask.
“I-I don’t know. Guess I just wanted to be with you.”
Wait, so what about all those times you invited her for a study session at the cafe? She had always ordered a latte. Has she been hiding that silly secret each second, just for a chance to hang out with you? To have your company?
You didn’t know coffee would flatter you this much.
You pause. Does she like you? As much as you like her? You don’t know. You’re momentarily flustered. Step back and scratch the back of your neck, similar to a boy having been caught doing something wrong. Kissing your best friend is something wrong.
You shouldn’t be doing this. A friendship between two heterosexual people of the opposite gender could stray to lengths that are both painful as they are excruciating if someone dared to touch the other. So, if you kissed Eunbi, who could predict the consequences? Chances are you’ve ruined your friendship forever.
Then she grabs your waist and pulls you close. Kisses your chin ‘cause that’s all she can reach and she can barely reach it at all. But it sends shivers down your knees.
“Come on,” she whispers breathily. “Don’t be shy. Touch me.”
Foolish to stop and think. Your immediate yet hesitant reaction is to give her jawline one final kiss and slip your hands under her shirt.
“Oh!”
Alright, you’re a lot more confident now. You pull the cups of her bra down and start to squeeze. It’s no secret that she’s got a blessed bust, and now you get to feel it. Her nipples are hard in your palms and the flesh in your hold is just so soft. You could never get enough.
Eunbi laughs. Sort of; it’s kind of a moan, too. She lifts her chin to the sky as you knead and knead and knead. “H-how long… have you been waiting to do that?”
It’s an achievement making her stutter. More stammering breaths leave her lips when you thumb her nipples. Press, thumb, pinch, repeat. It’s how you find out she’s just so damn sensitive, and of course you’re abusing that fact.
“You don’t want to know,” you reply, brushing your lips over hers.
She gasps. “Again.”
“Huh?”
Eunbi kisses you. “Kiss me. Like this. Again.”
Is anyone aware, by the way, that you are completely incapable of refusing her?
You kiss her, like she asked. She sighs happily, her tongue suddenly coming out to play. More sensations of softness are at hand, and now you’re battling for the upper hand with your tongue responding to her gestures.
Two can play this game. You slip your tongue through her lips and she sucks it, almost like she’s aware of who’d be controlling who. You force her up to the claw machine glass (plastic? It’s pretty sturdy) so hard that your kissing isn’t gentle by any means. It’s leaving her breathless.
“You’re… you’re good,” she hums, when you finally reward her with a break. “I wanted to be the first girl you did that to.”
The revelation definitely isn’t linked to how hard you’re nibbling on her jawline. Her shuddering breaths are everything.
“Actually,” adds Eunbi, “I wanted to be the first everything for you. First kiss, first love, first time. But you just had to date Hyewon, huh?”
“Jealous?”
“Nope. Never. Just, oh, don’t stop–” Eunbi winces, ribbons her fingers through your own more. “Oh…”
Your tongue swirls on her neck. Meanwhile, your hands are busier. You squeeze Eunbi’s fantastic breasts so that her leg pulls you close. Your obvious erection pushes against her center. Her hips start to move, bringing herself closer to your rod and getting off on the feeling. Her little whines increase.
Then you remember something.
“Have to.” You retrieve your fingers from under her shirt. Regretfully. Fix her bra back on her.
She’s near tears. “No…”
“There’s a CCTV, little raindrop. You wanna get arrested?”
You’re out of breath. You pull the ends of her shirt down to hide evidence of the crime, though there’s the camera witness to it, and try to lead her outside. She refuses to budge. Her glare is clear.
“If that means you get to fuck me till I’m begging and drooling,” she says solidly, “then take me to court.”
-
You take her home instead.
She looks frail waiting at the glass doors as you purchase some contraceptives from the convenience store, almost whining when you take too long. How the fuck do they have lube, too? You buy that and all the contraceptives they have, because if you want to have Eunbi, you gotta do it fast and safe.
She manages to wait on the elevator, hand wrapped tightly around your palm. Then, when you get to the room, she pushes you down the bed as if she were actually taller and stronger. She truly is an actress—wasn’t she just squirming impatiently not less than five minutes ago? Directors would look at her for sure, a face to remember among plain ones, and say, “Oh, this is our trouvaille. This is what’ll make us billions.”
But now, she’s all yours. Your little trouvaille.
There’s pride in that.
“Fuck. Can’t wait to have someone like you.” She kisses you. Again. Another one to your chest. She’s a little greedy with the way she devours you. But you’ll spoil her as much as she wants; curve your body up so her cushiony lips could have more. Your back is buried into the white sheets. “Someone who is you.”
Grasp the small of her neck—her kisses are surprisingly passionate. "Wait,” you say, “you're not a virgin?"
It doesn’t bother you; just surprises you. Eunbi’s had a fair amount of suitors and boyfriends, and plenty looked too frail to even hold her hand.
"Virgin? Hell no," she replies, like it’s the most unbelievable thing she’s ever heard. The center of her jeans grinds against the mountain in yours. She bites her lip. "Mmm. You think with all this hotness a dude would go, 'Oh, I only want to take care of her'?"
"I do want to take care of you," you murmur, caressing her waist.
"Oh?" A grin stretches on her face. Her teeth still trap her lower lip, and it makes your stomach tighten. Your jeans, too. "Tell me more."
“For one,” you sit up and play with the belt loops on her pants, “I’d like to help you out of your clothes.”
“Typical,” she mutters amusedly. “But I’m not complaining.”
Eunbi continues grinding for long seconds that already feel like a taste of heaven, then rises. Her legs are jelly. You can’t imagine how wet she must be, and to think you’d finally see exactly how. She undoes your zipper, and you in turn pull down hers. Your pants are a whirlpool on the floor. It’s only when you roll on the condom and help her out of the shirt that you realize what she’s wearing:
Calvin Klein, from bust to bottom. Her navel sits above the band of the underwear. Her midriff looks even more perfect bare. Flatness travels through its front until it swells largely at her breasts, which look heavy behind the gray bra. Her hair falls messily over her shoulders, a sea of wildness, and her smile is dorkier with those glasses.
“Fuck.” Your Adam’s apple bobs. “Eunbi...”
“Will you?” she challenges.
You stand up and grab her ass to usher her closer, then kiss her. She smirks; she expected that to happen. Of course, the little devil, always getting her way. But you can’t help but give and give and give; you turn your positions around, push her gently so that she lands on the bed, and continue to kiss her.
Silky legs curl around you. Behind the fabric, you could already feel how wet she is. Drive your hips up because the friction is too good. The wet spot of arousal on her underwear prods your clothed erection.
Eunbi screams loudly. Chastise her with a squeeze on her butt cheek. She yelps, and your lips land on her again. “Easy there.”
“I hate you,” she groans, slapping your arm impatiently. She whines when you poke her cheek. “Give it to me.”
“Give it to me what?”
Eunbi huffs. “You want me to call you daddy on the first day? Really? I mean, that’s fine, I can do that. But can’t we dial it back?”
“You watch so much porn that you forget basic politeness.”
“Wow, hypocrite. Fuck you—”
“Baby.”
That shuts her up. Your thumb caressing teasing rhythms on her face plays a big role, too. Her ears are pink at the ends and she genuinely looks shocked. No, not shocked. Can’t be just that anyway. But that tiny pout pulling south at the ends and the tiniest of pants escaping it tell you what you have to know. You and Eunbi can communicate with just a look, and this one she gives writes to you a message of want.
“You alright? It’s okay, Eunbi. Baby.” Proud to have ruined all her feistiness, you tip her chin up. “I want you to say it.”
Wait, patiently. It’ll take time and you’re not one to rush. When she starts to talk again, her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Please.” She nods and nods, like she was doing it just in case you started to doubt. “Please fuck me.”
“Good girl,” you tell her. You’ve always wanted to. You can tell it’s the same for her.
You ease her out of her underwear and find her pussy prettily shaven, glistening wet. Light stickiness lines the insides of her thighs. Her lips down here are just as beautiful up there. You glide your fingers up and down between them, a choreography you’ll never get tired of performing again. Your touch is light yet you manage to put your hand on and in all the right places.
Oh, well, barely in. But that’s the fun of it; teasing Eunbi is a newfound hobby. In little time, it’s become your most favorite. Your touch is so light that when you edge the tips of your fingers inside, it’s already a lot to take. She lets out a humbled little growl, shoulders straightening. Mouth slacking. Thighs shuddering.
“No, no, why does it feel so—” Her voice breaks. Her face squeezes up and she’s crying out in strained, tiny sounds.
Your digits gently curl on the entrance of her pussy, touching her sore clit and making it throb with the stimulation. Eunbi’s lost count of the times she’s done the exact same thing to herself: lying in her bed screaming out silently with only her hand to turn to. And now she’s here, with you doing it for her.
Slip one finger inside, and even with that she’s already so tight. You start to pump her, each driving her nearer and nearer to the headboard. She’s whining, like no, no, oh, please don’t stop. You add another to hear it more.
“You prick,” she squeals out, palm to her mouth. “If you stop, I’m gonna kill you. I swear, I swear, don’t play around with me.”
“You’re in no place to be making threats, Eunbi.”
This is her punishment: a speed her little pussy can’t take. She’s so tight that you’re already struggling. Trust that she is, too. She’s thrashing around on the bed, disheveling the sheets the staff oh-so-carefully fitted back. Hold her down so she gets to feel the force of your pace.
How did she manage to peek in your mind, collect all your fantasies about her, and act them out? She’s there, in her Calvin Klein underwear, shaking at your fingerfucking and flashing you the most needy looks from behind those glasses. That’s gotta come from somewhere. Watch the float of her tummy when you jam your fingers harder; the quiver in her arms when you part her legs more. Now you’re certain.
Because see, it’s how it’s all so frightening: Eunbi’s Eunbi, your best friend and someone you’ve fallen in love with, and it’s the fact that you shouldn’t be crossing the line. You shouldn’t be fingering her with a madness of thousands when she’s your friend. You shouldn’t be touching and leading her on when she’s your friend. You shouldn’t be—
But oh, you are.
You’re doing it with the courage of someone who knows damn well what they’re doing is wrong, and with no regrets.
“In me.” It’s not a suggestion. It’s a command, veiled under a breathy tone. “Now.”
You pull your fingers out of her and lick them. You don’t know if she’s tangy or sweet or bitter, but you do know she’s fucking delicious. “Whatever you say,” is your reply, because you’re always spoiling her.
Eunbi separates her thighs from one another. Your protected cockhead bumps against her clit when you approach. She flinches, but scurries herself near. She can’t stop staring at you, your cock, your stomach. Everywhere. It makes you possess a kind of narcissistic theory that perhaps she’s just as obsessed with you as you are with her.
You’ve never hoped this hard for a conspiracy to become true.
"Please." Eunbi's breath shortens, and she closes her eyes. She’s suddenly quiet, letting go of her harsh neediness. "Please rub your cock on me. On my clit. Without the condom."
Look at her throbbing nub and catch your breath. Barely. You run your fingers below the sensitive pearl. Then, on it. Under it, too, with little weight in order for the heat to circle around. "I don't know if we should, little raindrop."
"You can put it back on after, i-if you want." Her begging is borderline desperate. No wonder she isn’t sassing you. "I’m on the pill. Should have told you, I’m sorry. But I just want to know what it feels like. Please?"
“Are you sure?”
She nods. Not that you need it to know what she wants.
You unroll the condom. Her mouth waters, even more when you do as she says. She’s right to be curious—it feels so fucking good that you’re afraid you have to put it on before you cum all over her. She whimpers quietly, the heat gathering in her clit and her legs suddenly tensing.
“Gah—” Eunbi sobs and catches the side of her fist in her mouth. “Oh god, please.”
“Seriously, you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”
“Shut up,” she gasps. “Just put it in me.”
Sure you will, but you can’t resist flicking your cock between her lips. Your tip teases her entrance and slaps her clit. Eunbi lets out a lengthy groan. It transforms into a girlish cry, and you kiss it all away. What you don’t know is the moment you push yourself inside, no amount of petting would get her to quiet down.
So you do.
“You are so—” Eunbi’s legs stretch out. They require an anchor, and you’re glad to act as one. You place your hands firmly on her thighs and start to push yourself inside the delicious tightness. Every time you try to push past the limits, her pussy only closes more around you. She’s all wet and aroused yet she remains so goddamned tight.
She’s slippery but firm in holding your cock inside that warm, wet hole. She has to stop tensing her stomach so that she won’t deprive you of her. It’s hard to push, but one powerful thrust drives you all the way in, making it worth it after everything. She spreads her thighs more which gives you the chance to feel them, and you’re right for grabbing the opportunity. Grabbing her thighs, to be specific.
Each thrust helps spread her out. You’re pushing her apart and forcing her limits to be taken down. Her pussy sleeves your shaft so well, so tight yet so perfect. You slam harder. Take in the beautiful imagery of Eunbi’s small cunt taking more than it could. Its hold is so enclosed that you’re required to guide her legs up to welcome your dick deeper.
“I’m seriously so angry at you,” she hisses out. She bears every drill with a pleasured face and a fist that chokes the sheets to material death. “How did you not dick me down… all those years ago, huh? What a fucking tease, fuck—”
Make up for it by choosing a rocky pace. She won’t relax, and it’s straining you. You’re so deep inside her yet you can tell there’s more to excavate—her tensed body just won’t let up. It’s like every time you roll your hips, her velvety walls close more around you.
“Well, I didn’t know you were so tight,” you say, kissing her collarbone. Tiny nibbles here and there before you give it a lick. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“Oh, you’re sorry? Then fuck me harder.”
You’re terrible at apologies, but you’re sure she’ll forgive you this time. Your core releases a mighty strength in shoving between her open legs. Even that sexy Calvin Klein bra can’t stop her godly tits from bouncing. Her glasses are lopsided while her vision goes loopy behind them.
Her cheeks inflate in labor as her lower body rises to greet you. She’s so adorable; it pinches your heart and leads your mouth down so you can kiss her shoulder and clavicle. See, you’re a good multitasker after all; you can destroy the heat in her center while worshiping her body. It’s good practice. Question is: would there be more times to exercise it?
“That’s it, yes,” Eunbi breathes out. Her hums of affirmation stutter even without her lips opening. “You know what I’ve always imagined? It’s this, it’s always this. When I’m supposed to be studying, I just think of how good you’d pound me. How you’d make me scream. Do what you want to me, okay? Hnnn, so big.”
Plenty of similarities between you and your best friend: your quickness to speak before taking the time to contemplate it, the clothes you accidentally mix and match, your ages. But what you didn’t know is when you sit down at your laptop plagued by thoughts of her, she’s somewhere in her own place being overwhelmed by ones of you. The heat somehow multiplies. Fills the room like a verse.
Therefore, you must hold her in place, give her a false reassurance that you’re going to take her slow. Do so, but then your thrusts become unmeasured and rapid. One hand on the side of that flawless waist, you lead the other to her bra. Harshly pull it down and let her boobs spill out of it. You start to squeeze them hard. Her chest is so bountiful that even the width of your hand can’t map it fully. So you squeeze, forcing it to fit in your fingers, and start to pinch. Her nipple is sore with arousal.
“Oh—oh—oh, shit.” She’s sobbing. But unlike the other times you’ve seen her cry, this one is out of pure bliss. “Just like that. Such a good dick, such a good boy, thank you.”
Your ears heat up. “You’re a pretty good girl, too, Eunbi.”
“You’re terrible at this.”
She mewls helplessly when you suddenly ramp up the pace. You’re doing her like you’re determined to make her pregnant. It’s the last thing you want to happen, but the grinds make it look otherwise. Along the expedition of your cock, it rubs her needy cunt and makes her drench your cock with more wetness. Enjoy the tightness, enjoy the squeeze of her hole. She’s so warm and wet that you don’t think you could live having only done this once with her. There’s gotta be more, right?
“What about now?” you ask, unable to resist smirking at how she’s now completely broken apart. Then, mirror her words from some days back that drove and still drive you crazy, as ridiculous as they are: “Cat got your tongue back there?”
She chokes up and is rendered even more lost for breath when you start to lose control of your own moans. They harmonize in an erotic chorus with hers and soon you’re muffling them with another torrid liplock.
“You’re a bully,” she says, the words mashing with your teeth and lips. “A heartbreaking, flirty, mean bully.”
Your noses nuzzle against each other. “You like me that way.”
“I’m not commenting… on, t-that.”
“Good. Because you know what you need to do? Cum for me. You’re shaking, Eunbi. Bet you wanna cry and get there so bad.”
“Y-yes!” Eunbi curses with that adorable lisp. She starts to stammer at the thumb floating and frisking on her clit, and she gives you this watery-eyed needy look that tells you, along with her stiff nubs and desperate gasping, she’s close.
You start to swipe at her clit and fit yourself lower in her. Eunbi gasps. She sits up though her forearms barely could handle the weight of what you’re doing, and stares down at your handiwork. She feels hot all over. You’re not helping calm her down. But you are aiding her orgasm, (which, by the way, is so near she can taste it.)
“What are you doing, you’re making me lose it—gonna—”
No need for her to continue for you to understand when she’s creaming all over you. Your rapid rubs on her clit don’t cease and neither do your thrusts. Eunbi’s yelling so hard that you’re afraid that even the well-built four walls of your hotel room won’t contain her noises. However, at the same time, you want them to hear her. That girl you always have your arm around on? Yep, she’s yours. That girl who always steals your socks and shirts? Just the same.
Eunbi’s mouth pinches up before sighing loudly, followed by a series of other gaspy breaths. You could hear a venerating one the moment the tightness becomes too much for you to handle and thus milks you of cum. You fill her so much that it drips off her lips. Your gentle thrusts guide the mixture of her cum and yours back inside her.
“That good enough for you?” you ask, pulling out.
Gently close her mouth and wipe the saliva that dribbles down it. When you lead it back to her mouth, she sucks on your aiding thumb. You take the liberty of running your finger along the soft pillows of her lips.
Add: “You’re incredibly demanding when you’re being fucked.”
Anyone could have guessed that it would be that way if they saw how she’s sitting there giving you teary puppy eyes.
“Of course. You know why?” She gives you a tired yet satisfied look, a triumphant one, too. “I know you would give me more if I asked.”
Fix her glasses back on the bridge of her nose. “You give yourself too much credit.”
“Okay. Fine.”
Eunbi stands up. She steals your attention from her heaving, heavy breasts when she gets on her knees. She squirms her thighs together, letting your creampie leave visible evidence. She massages your thighs, and it makes you even more turned on.
“Tell me,” she says, another challenge, “that you won’t give me your cum. Tell me I’m such a bad girl that I don’t deserve all of it on my face. Hell, tell me you won’t even dare give me a nice, hot load down my throat as a reward for taking you well.”
You’re speechless. How do you react to this? She’s on her knees, riling you up and about to get to sucking you off. It’s another dream come true. And you hate how she’s right to death. She always is.
“Tell me all of that,” she concludes, “and I’d know you’re a fucking liar.”
Your tongue can’t form a fragment. Not even a stutter is born in your throat. Eunbi stares up at you, her hands neatly folded on her lap. She’s waiting, and you want to tell her it’s fruitless. You can’t tell her anything because it would prove her point. Plus, she’s gorgeous, so what now?
She clicks her tongue. Hums out a contained, satisfied laugh. “Thought so.”
Here’s how it starts: she licks at your tip repeatedly, keeping in mind how sensitive it is after having just cum inside her. Sparks of heat knot there. Then she leads it between her lips, and you’re on your toes again. She just slides those full, pink lips over you so perfectly. From the base to the head she goes with barely a complaining mouth. To you, it’s everything already. But to her—oh no, don’t get it twisted: this is just the beginning of it. A teaser to what will happen.
Her tongue laps side to side while she takes you in her mouth. You let out a stilted breath.
“Damn, you really, really like that, huh?” She pauses momentarily to lick your balls, then travels her tongue to the sides of your rod. With one lick, there’s another ball of heat tightening in you. And another; you’re moaning.
“Y-yeah.”
“I see.” (She doesn’t; she’s closed her eyes while nursing your sore cock. Okay, now she does.) “What’s something you really wanted to do to me?”
You exhale. It’s the only laugh you can manage to create. “Ah. Where do I even begin?”
Eunbi brushes your cockhead over her pouted lips. Your toes curl. “Tell me? Please?” she says.
Talking to Eunbi is easy. You can tell her anything and she’d be there, listening patiently and adding a joke sometimes. But when you’re asked to narrate all the things you’ve wanted to do to her, it’s a difficult task.
How do you say you’ve wanted to bend her over a desk while you finish between her legs?
How do you say you’ve strained for the opportunity to ask her out, with the first date being consummated by steamy, romantic sex by the moon?
How do you say you’ve wished for everything, from romantically cheesy to filthily rough, when it comes to her?
“I—I’ve thought about cumming in your throat,” you admit. That’s the first step. You run your fingers through her hair. Take care not to mess the braids. “Making you swallow all of it.”
Eunbi looks smug. “Sure, I can do that,” she chirps. “I mean, I’m me, right?”
“You’re a brat.”
“So make me shut up. Stuff this fat cock down my throat. Make me gag with your load. You always wanted to, right?”
Eunbi’s a challenging girl. She pushes you to go the extra mile, makes you do things you never thought you could. Tonight is no different.
You don’t care to keep the aesthetics of her hairdo anymore. You bunch her hair up in one tight ponytail then shove yourself inside. No gentleness in your body, you feed her wet and waiting mouth.
What bests the other in terms of tightness: her pussy or her throat? You don’t know. Can’t choose properly either. Observe anyway: this orifice provides the perfect wetness and a tongue that services you with glides and licks. Then you have that tight hole when you push yourself deep. You can feel her breaths being blocked by your girth.
Start to thrust away. In the beginning, she still has it in her to suck. You can feel the strength of it doing away at your length. But now, she can barely breathe to even do it. You’re just pushing her face into your stomach and her nose to your navel. You’re using her, which you’ve sworn you never would do. But she’s asking for it. Can’t you break your oath just once? Or at least, whenever she asks for it?
“Can I say how pretty you look like this?”
The blush on her cheeks adds to the aura of it all. Her eyes are glowing with tears as they blink at you, and she’s started to salivate all over you. She can’t take it all, yet she’s so determined to that you want to stop and praise her. As you fuck her face sloppily, the thought that she’s beautiful still hasn’t left your head. Even when you’re ruining her, you’re still starstruck.
You’re a little flustered yourself. She’s so gorgeous that it sometimes makes you want to go call every visual storm in a rainforest ugly. She’s the prettiest little raindrop, and you stand by that.
“You’ll be good, won’t you? You’ll take all that I’ve got for you?”
She nods so innocently you wouldn’t think that she was having her face used.
She’s promised you to swallow all of your cum, and Kwon Eunbi? She never breaks promises.
Twist the ponytail you’ve bunched together to push her head firm to your stomach. She chokes, her throat constricting. Just what you wanted. You limit the movement of your hips so that you could shove that pretty face into you and make her put that mouth to good use. She’s good at that; even with her gags that somehow sound more heavenly than concerning, she takes and takes and takes your length.
Pounding away, you bask in the squeeze of her throat, her hold on your thighs, her eyes tearing up. Her glasses are lopsided, and this time you don’t fix them. You caress her cheek then tilt her chin up. Her mouth’s an easy place to access in this position. The imprint of your cock bobs in her thin neck.
“Oh!” she gasps for air once you retreat.
She sucks sloppily on you when you rub yourself on the inside of her cheek to lead you to a climax. After you’re certain it’s right around the corner, you start to jerk off in front of her face. As much as you’d love to completely release her, you want to see Eunbi fill her mouth with your semen.
Eunbi’s a good girl, so you found out. She doesn’t need instructions for her to cleverly part her lips and wait for it. Her heavy breaths fan your penis.
“Almost there, little raindrop,” you say, “just be good and wait.”
She sticks her tongue out and you aim for it. Eunbi closes in and fills the top of her tongue with your thick release. It pools in her mouth so satisfyingly that you almost wish you could keep cumming forever—not for the pleasure of it but to see her keep that desperate face on.
“Swallow.”
Eunbi shows off the plentiful evidence of your orgasm puddling in her mouth, then does so. After she gulps, she pants. Laughs a little, too. She has a way of finding humor in the most absurd situations. For example: your professor’s voice cracking in the middle of a rant. Your dad calling her “a very well-mannered young lady.” Having her face fucked.
“Do you know you’re, ah, shaking?” she asks, fixing her exposed bosom back in her bra.
(You are.)
(But, to be fair, she’s made a mess on the carpeted hotel room floor. That’s kinda worse. The saliva can’t be differentiated from her girl cum. But at least yours can.)
“Thanks for letting me know,” you say anyway.
“Anytime.”
Amazing how things could grow awkward after you just abused her throat. You’re like two strangers trying to make conversation, and you’re everything but that, aren’t you?
“How ‘bout this: d’you know that you glow after being fucked?”
“Shouldn’t you do it again?” She climbs onto the bed you’ve collapsed on. She places your hand on her thigh. “Keep me pretty?”
There’s nothing that could make her look unflattering. The messy hair is wild but she’s still a princess. But if that’s what she wants… well, she’s the last person you’d want to say no to.
“You’re insatiable.” Nevertheless, you let her bring your hand to her used core. You love how she stiffens when you start to rub circles around her clit.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t, too.” Eunbi presses her mound close to the heel of your hand. For a moment, she’s frozen. Then, her lips are next to your ear, telling you of a tale older than her lust. “I want you to do everything you want with me, everything.”
You’ve lost count of all the things you want to do to her. From things as sweet as tucking her in after a bad day to the filthiest like defiling that ass since that day she wore cycling shorts alone, your mind just runs with ideas. You can’t choose.
“You’ve kept me waiting,” she whines out. Her sighs grow sporadic. “So give it all to me.”
“Like I said: incredibly demanding.”
“You asshole.” She chokes this out as you start to roughly prod her nub. “You fucking… gatekeeper of dick.”
“Well, it’s my cock. I think I get to decide what happens with it.”
“You’re selfish.” Her voice gets higher. Her winces grow often, and Eunbi’s starting to babble out these little words of biteless barks. “You’re so, so cruel. You don’t know what I’d do, I will—I will—”
Before it happens, you place your hand on the back of her neck. She doesn’t even get to glare at you because it all happens so fast. You don’t know how you did it. Not just this, but everything else: how you managed to befriend her, how you managed to lay her.
How you managed to push her not too gently to the wall, her chest pressing its solidness. How you managed to perfectly time it so that her head is tilted to the side so you could still catch a glimpse of that face. How you managed to pull up her bra and free those tits.
How you managed to say: “Do you know what I would do to you?”
Because there’s a million things you could do to Kwon Eunbi—the girl you’ve got pinned beneath you who’s absolutely tense with want. Your little kisses melt the freeze of her shoulders; you can hear her soft moans again.
Her lashes flutter over the undersides of her eyes. “Please,” she squeaks out, “do tell.”
“I’d rather show.”
Eunbi hums strainedly. You pierce through her again, It’s the second time and her velvety pussy still barely budges at your contradictingly welcome visit. Press your stomach into her back till you’re buried deep inside her. As a result, she’s shoved harder into the wall. Then you retrieve yourself handlessly from her, then put yourself in again.
She pants heavily, matching those of yours. She’s shaking, the only leverage to stay upright is your body on hers. Your rhythm is not too different from earlier and Eunbi still finds herself seeing it as something so new. She still spasms and quakes around you. Anything you give to her, she takes gladly. Each thrust pushes out a feeble cry from her throat and from within.
Her arms stretch to support her stance to the painted wall. You adore them, like you do to every other part of her. But these—these beautiful, strong arms whose minimal bulges hint of well-trained muscles—they do a number on you. You run your hands all along them, not making it easier for her. Everywhere you touch delivers a quiver running through her body.
Although you touch first from the sides, her chest already feels big. You caress her curves before placing your hands right on her breasts. They’re your guilty pleasure, the kind that makes you pray for forgiveness because you don’t even know if you’re worthy of stealing glances at them. Maybe you are, because you’re getting to hold them. It’s a divine sign, if you do say so yourself.
Clutch them. Use them to plunge to places left unnavigated in her cunt. She’s dripping all over you, and it somehow plays the role of lubricant. It lets you thrust easily and keep her wet enough for more.
Any touch you trace on her beautiful body makes her quake. You brush your fingertips lightly over her clit, and the squeeze of her hole strengthens. You massage her fantastic hips and waist and you’re rewarded with a feral cry. Kissing her does no good in helping her calm down because, if anything, she gets more worked up.
“Oh, look at that, Eunbi.” You continue thrusting in her, pushing her limits far from the bounds, and she’s got her hands on her face, tears on her palms. “You’re so desperate. You squeeze so tight around me.”
Standing is something she’ll soon be incapable of doing for her legs are beaten down by your movements. “Not exactly my fault,” she says. “You know who’s to blame? You. You and that smug face and smug everything. You—”
How is it possible that you can make her garble but lose her words as well? Eunbi’s excessive whining comes to a halt as you plummet said cock deeper. Silent screams escape her open mouth and she’s clinging to the surface in front of her like she’d slip if she didn’t. There’s a possibility that that’s true—when you let go of her hip, she almost falls.
“You—” If you didn’t know Eunbi, you’d think her voice had contempt in it.
“What about me? Can you tell me?” You know that’ll annoy her.
It does, for she says: “W-wow, big ego.” She whimpers quietly at the soft kisses you place on her neck. The circumstances don’t allow her insult to hit properly. It just swells your pride.
“I know another thing from me and mine that's big.”
Eunbi growls. “Then put it to good—fucking—use.”
She has a point. Why are you fucking her rough when you could be even more so? Your touch climbs from her waist, tiny, to her boobs that can be described as every adjective in the thesaurus except for that. Afterwards, you carry out a brutal pace which drives her so into the wall that you’re not sure how she hasn’t made a dent in it yet. Her only protection from its hardness is your hands on her bust.
Nothing can protect her from your hardness, however. It’s almost cruel how pink that milky white skin is, culprit of the defilement being your core that slams and slams into it. But you know she likes it this way. So why stop? Of course, there’s no reason to.
“God, please– you’re—” Her expression changes. Pleasure becomes bliss as bliss becomes paradise. “Oh no, I think I’m close.”
No quote from philosophers and learned individuals could inspire you like that simple statement. Yes, she’s close to cumming. And it’s because of you, she just confirmed it. So you tweak her hard nipples and tilt your moves up. You must have hit a certain spot because a simple “oh” turns to a scream. Several of them actually, each increasing the smacks of your hips on her butt and your lips’ ravages on that delicate, vulnerable swan’s neck.
“Hngh, I can’t! I can’t, I can’t, harder, please!” she yells, falling back to the wall and shaking.
Your moves become frequent and rough. Your hands join in with the roughness; they begin to harshly pinch and grab her boobs until she unravels.
Eunbi suppresses her scream into a whiny cry and falls into you, unable to keep her balance anymore. The flood rages in her core and overflows. Your cum slides out of her pussy as she tightens and loosens. She frantically pushes her ass back into you to keep the climax on a high, coupled with sharp shrieks of affirmation.
“Keep fucking me,” she rasps, “keep ruining me.”
Her voice ranges between low and sexy to high and needy. Both sides, however, are draining you. It’s the way the sweat sticks to her gasping face and how her legs are practically limp. She’s completely under your control, and you… like it? Is that how it’s supposed to work?
“Yes, yes—don’t stop.” Her nails scratch the paint. “Don’t, wait, not inside me. Okay? You can’t.”
You manage to successfully quiet your groan of disappointment. You pull out reluctantly. Tell yourself you already ejaculated in her moments ago, so it’s only fair for it to be once. However, your cock’s still rock hard. What do you do about it? You’ve already done more than you should with her. It was all supposed to be just one kiss. How did you get here?
She turns around and places her hands on your shoulders. Her palms are sweaty in spite of the air-conditioner breezing in the room. The exhaustion on her face from sex is there, and so is this little serious look.
“I want you to cum,” she says, “in my ass.”
Thoughts. Too many of those, none pure. Thoughts of Eunbi that didn’t stay as fantasies because look at them bleeding into reality. Silence, too—you’re not saying they speak louder than words, but of course you can tell she’s serious with those watery bunny eyes.
“What?”
And of course you gotta act like a prude. What the hell? You? A prude? That’s a fucking lie. You’ve pleasured yourself countless times to the thought of her and that body, so why are you backtracking? As Eunbi would say, right after you made fun of lazy students while never studying much yourself, “Hypocrite.”
“What?” Eunbi drags your hands down that supple ass and makes you squeeze its full cheeks. “I want you to get your money’s worth from that expensive lube and pound me. And don’t you even think of stopping.”
You glance at the plastic-wrapped bottle on the bedside table, then back at her. It just doesn’t make sense. You—you and your awkwardness and spontaneous bursts of overconfidence—getting to cross the line? Everyone has probably doubted their worth one way or another, in stories written the same as yours, but is she serious? Does she really, really plan on letting you do it?
You look down at your bare feet. She sighs loudly, obviously and slightly irritated at your hesitation. Only an idiot would pass up that opportunity. But maybe you want to be an idiot—because fucking her would mean wanting her. You’ve already done both. You’ve made her cum twice and always wanted to do so, always desired her. To you, it just makes you worse than the rest of the men who vied and strived for her.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Eunbi,” you tell her quietly. Let them rage at your words as if your life were a movie and they were a judgmental audience, but it’s true. You can’t violate more unwritten rules.
She lifts her head, her face parallel to your own. “What if I want you to?”
-
You blackmailed everyone into reading your story, you’ll say it straight up. This isn’t a love story or tragedy, or whatever. This is a tale about you being too generous. You’re always giving Eunbi what she wants. Every key point’s been triggered by her wishes—from her bailing answers out of you right up to this passionate Christmas Eve. You’re the genie who keeps giving her extra. Oh, you’re a pretty girl, you see, you’d say, blue hand stroking her hair, so of course you can ask for more. It’s all on me, beautiful. All on me.
You keep granting. And granting. And granting.
“Spread those legs.”
Because it’s all written on paper, in the law of nature: she’ll be the one who calls you names and drags you around. But here? Nothing remotely close to that. She’s the girl who sits on the counter of the kitchen table, and opens her legs. Why? Because you told her to. You’ve already fucked all the sass out of that sharp-tongued mouth. There’s little left.
In this wealth-stealing coup of a hotel room, she’s the one who does what you want. She’d slacken her mouth to have you give her a throatpie. She’d ride you like she would a pillow if you asked her. But in a way, behind the scenes, it’s her screenwriting it all. She’s got it predicted from front to base—you’ll fuck her here. And there. You’ll do what she wants and do what you want. Make it meet in the middle.
Because, you think as you slick her asshole and your cock with the lubricant, that’s what friends do.
The edges of Eunbi’s palms are on the counter. You can see them struggle to keep her body upright. You can’t really say you blame the girl when the two of you have done too many things to fit into one night. Anal is another you’re trying to squeeze into a tight schedule.
But that’s what she wants. And, (heads up—skip if you don’t like spoilers): you just so happen to have a habit of being too easily swayed by pretty women.
“Open more.”
“There’s enough already,” she whines, words pitched and tiny.
“I know, Eunbi. Baby.” You’re clinging on that high of seeing the color rose her cheeks. In every way, red (can’t be pink when it’s that dark) looks good on her.
Eunbi’s breath skips a pattern. Her ass retreats at your touch yet goes back every time for you to hold. “You’re too good at this,” she says, speaking as if the words were a foreign language. Which is to say: cute. It’s like when she speaks English; it comes out sounding like fresh, pretty talk.
“Glad you’ve come to terms with that.”
“Wow.” Can’t tell if she said that at your cock pressing to her anal hole or at your quickness to speak. “Okay.”
“I mean, I’m serious. I only called you baby. How does that make me good?”
Eunbi coos when you touch the side of her face. Hold its jawline over the line your palm calls its own. Glimmering sweat and exhaustion and lust, she still has ways to make you go crazy. Your hand comforting her shudders nearly makes her forget you just want her to admit that you’re cut from the rest.
Both of you know what’s true anyway.
“I just…” Eunbi kisses the space between your index and thumb. “I just fall in love too fast.”
“How fast are we talking?”
“I won’t tell you, it’s been crystal clear since the time I met you. But for this?” She taps your hip impatiently. “As fast as you can.”
Her voice deepens, a stretch from her cheerful pitch. Where did that come from? She smirks at the change in your face, but she can’t hide the desperation in hers.
Her hole and your cock are shiny with the lubrication. Turns out the lube was a good buy; getting the tip inside her proves to be easy. However, it can’t help your job in hilting the entirety inside her. Thighs that glisten with wetness and lube wrap around you. Her midriff tenses, and so does her hole. So do her hands on your arms.
There’s already her cum and yours wetting her ass, as well as the lube you bought that was crazy expensive. So why is she still so tight? Her squeals thin and her face makes clear the labor. You’re spreading her apart in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.
She’s straining, too. Eunbi’s using every method in the book to allow your width to enter more: breathing deeply, relaxing her body, spreading her legs. But they don’t seem to work for her when her ass is only focused on closing around the little you’ve put inside her.
“Why do you have to be so big?” she whines. She pushes her cheeks to your stomach, inching you south and into her. “Why does it have to feel so good? Don’t just stand there. Fuck me. Split me open, I need it.”
Her wish is your command. That’s three wishes she’s making there and you’ll grant all of them. In a hard moment of pure will, you pull yourself out and slam yourself harshly into her tight body. Your attempt is successful; your whole girth is snugly hugged by her round butt. The enclosed walls of her anal ring are so overwhelming that you’re close to blowing your load already.
If you’re a genie, Eunbi’s the taker of wishes. She takes and takes and takes, even with your cock prodding past the hurting limits of her little asshole, and she does it oh so well. She’s probably seeing ghosts or the stars they’ve become with the way she’s not even looking at you anymore. No, her body is slanted up to allow you to give what you can. And by what you can, you mean your all.
Eunbi sobs and hugs you close. For comfort? Assurance? Speed? You’ll give her all three. That’s six wishes there, but with her, there’s no limit. You hold her as you find a perfect pace, one that makes her thighs squish on the ledge of the table and has her mouth gaping while you’re making another orifice of hers do the same.
When did pain feel this good? Eunbi doesn’t know. But she loves and accepts it. She’s reciprocating your thrusts with her own ones. It feels too good, so good that the sounds coming out of her are difficult to comprehend. She’s moaning, yet crying, too. Crying yet gasping in delight. Gasping in delight yet panting as if it were too much.
There’s one thing you’re certain of, though: she’s enjoying it. Wetness drools from her cunt and onto your shaft. It’s only a tiny bit of help, but it already aids in fucking her ass open sloppily. Her breaths are warm gushes of wind on your skin, and soon in the air as she throws her head back. Have to place a hand behind her neck to prevent her from bumping onto the all-too-near cupboard.
“So good, so big, can feel you t-throbbing,” she mumbles. Her lips purse before releasing a sharp moan. You’ve just placed your mouth on one of her breasts. “Know you wanted to do this. Saw you, hnn, staring at my ass.”
“Who can blame me?” You lightly slap her backside. “This thing is the best.”
“You got me so...” Eunbi’s gasp becomes a little lost ghost when you start to suck on her brown nipple. “I wore them, those ridiculous shorts, just for you. Wanted you to make me feel good, make me hurt, oh, I want it so bad—”
Her words pierce and break. Their propriety becomes worse yet the willpower they induce becomes stronger. Rapidity becomes a pastime when you’re pumping her. Of course, that’s already a given when the girl’s absolutely incapable of keeping quiet. Anything you do to her she reacts to. She’s still the same girl in the sheets as she is when she’s out and about, and it makes this sinful act—anally ruining her—seem like something so endearing.
Your thumb starts to rub her clit again. You’ve done this plenty of times in this hotel room right after the heat started, yet it still gauges the same reaction from her. She can’t stay still. She wants to stay in one place to receive you better but there’s the pleasurable pain in her ass, your mouth on her bosom, your hand feeling her up. She can’t take it, and you can’t either. She’s a combination of wetness and tightness and loudness and shrillness—you’re both too much for the other.
A lit match to a flamed lighter.
“Oh, god, no.” Eunbi’s teeth dig into your shoulder before retracting. Signs of her sobs linger and roll down her perfect face that wields an expression you admit to have fantasized often on her. “You’re gonna make me cum again. You're gonna make me cum again, I can’t handle it. Please—fffu—”
You stuff your fingers inside her. Match the pace with how you’re fucking her into the kitchen wall. She clenches around you and doesn’t let go. The wet squelching sounds compels you to be harsher with her. Fuck her like it doesn’t mean anything, just like she wants you to.
“Mmm!” Eunbi shrieks at the harsh intrusions she thought would be over.
“Not over yet.” You kiss her. “Still gotta cream this perfect ass.”
The promise of that makes her blush. Red and sweaty, she exercises those toned arms by using them in fucking herself on your cock. The pleasure is addicting, and she’s still keeping you to that oath to cum inside her a second time.
She’s so wet that it’s almost unbelievable. Your fingers curl, spread, jam themselves in her, and each time they pull out they’re soaked to the knuckles. Her clit twitches and you get your touch on there again. A little leak of cum wrinkles your hand from it.
“You really want it, huh?” Hiss at how she bounces that jiggling rear onto you. “Just a little more, baby. You’re gonna have to do much better than that.”
Since when did Eunbi do what you say? Since when did she do it with this much enthusiasm? Despite your shaft wrecking her insides and rearranging her guts, along with the orgasm she’s had, she perseveres. She rolls her body, a snake’s dance, and takes you in further. You admire how much you’ve spread her. Hold her backside to guide her.
You pity the housekeeper who’d have to clean up evidence of your sin. There’s her wetness on the kitchen table, the smell of carnal need in the air, sheets torn by the little power Eunbi’s fingernails have. But there’s no regrets, you think, for this one:
An explosion. The kind that doesn’t kill but brings her to life. Its origin is the base of your cock and birth inside her tight little ass. Hold her close. Slam inside her as if you were mad at her, while she lets out gasped repetitions of “oh, oh, oh.” Now you pull out your digits and resort to furiously rubbing her nub, effectively making her even tighter.
“That’s it, fuck, such a good girl,” you groan. Grip her ass so tightly that it draws a yelp out of her. After it’s all done, you pull out.
“You,” she drawls when you pull out. She spreads her legs and stares at the semen dripping out of her holes. At the mess you’ve made on the floor, the bed, the table, everything. “You…”
She doesn’t continue what she’s saying, but you’re pretty sure you got the gist of it. It was you who fucked her. It was you who made her climax so many times in one night. It was you, her best friend, who did her in.
“Yeah,” you say, laughing.
Somehow, the whole experience is making you guilty. You feel like the richest man in the world, the luckiest, too. So why do you feel you did something wrong?
Eunbi narrows her eyes. She knows you too well. “Don’t you dare apologize.”
You don’t.
“Now kiss me.” Her words fan your chin, a haunting love spell. “Again.”
You do.
-
Christmas comes, and by then you've flown home. You’re at Sakura’s house to celebrate. Green and red are all over the place: red cupcakes on a baking tray, old books leaning against each other, the rug beneath you and her friends. There’s a giant statue of Santa Claus, overweight and jolly, at the corner next to the Christmas tree. What used to be under the plant were gifts Eunbi specifically said not to touch until 12 a.m midnight. No sleeping in now that you’re well aware that the man himself isn’t real.
Sakura’s undoing the ribbon on her gift, but her eyes are on you and Eunbi. “There’s something really weird going on with you two,” she says.
The girls nod and hum choruses of agreement: yes, he and the bunny leader are acting odd lately. No, they don’t know why. Is it because of the vacation? Seasonal depression (but with Christmas lights!)? They’re gonna find out for sure.
You and Eunbi look at each other. Your faces hold an unreadable expression, until you take an interest in one evergreen branch and her in the collar of her ugly Christmas sweater.
“Nah,” you say.
“Nothing much,” she echoes, drinking her hot chocolate.
Yena groans, tired of your pretentiousness. “You fucked, didn’t you?”
A liquid spray of sugar lands on the rug, courtesy of Eunbi. The girls begin cackling, slapping their hands on their thighs and on each other. You look away to manage your laughter. Unfortunately, it’s as loud as Eunbi’s scheming little members.
“That means yes!” Yujin shouts gleefully. Her dimples are printed on her cheeks. “You owe me ten thou, Yena unnie!”
Christmas spirit truly is in the air. They’re jumping up and down, laughing and cheering, while you two are mortified. You’re the Grinches of the holidays, but even that can’t sour their happiness.
“It worked!”
“I can’t believe it worked!”
“They’re so obvious about it, too!”
“No wonder Eunbi unnie was limping when they came home!”
The whole thing was a setup. It’s all dawning in on you. Why else would eleven girls pool ridiculous amounts of money for a two-person trip? You’ve given them the best Christmas present of their lives unknowingly.
But with how much Eunbi loves them, she’s okay with that.
You are, too.
-
“Hey.”
You lift yourself up from the comfort of the pillows and sheets. Eunbi’s standing at your bedpost. She still has on the sweater, courtesy of your mother, and her ears are still pink. That’s one of the cutest things about her: when she gets shy or humiliated, it’s pretty obvious.
How do you go about this? It’s been awkward and silent ever since you had sex. It’s so unlike your dynamics, and it’s scaring you. You don’t want to lose her. Is that the same on her end?
At the end of the day, though, she remains your best friend. You’ll always reserve a place for her with you.
“Hi.” You pat your bedclothes, and she sits.
She looks away as she pushes a paper shopping bag in your arms. “Merry Christmas.”
You wonder how you didn’t see it peeking from her tiny back. The bag isn’t too heavy, but it obviously is something large with how much you can feel whatever is inside it. Quickly stapled and taped, it’s a last-minute present for sure. Did she forget you? Of course, your heart squeezes with the idea of it.
“Way to time your—”
“Don’t be stubborn and just open it. Please?”
Do so.
It’s a bag. Not just any bag—it’s a brand new original of the backpack she lost you all those months ago. She’s got it down to the same color (gray), design (two pockets, with black zippers and one for a bottle) and size (medium). The only thing that sets it apart from your first one is the unavailability of shreds and tatters on the bottom side.
Stare at it, dumbfounded. How did she track it down? It’s sure to be expensive, seeing as it isn’t thrifted and is wrapped in the branded plastic of an overseas branch. “Eunbi,” you say.
“It was shipped later than expected.” She shrugs, trying to play it off. Still, you can hear her laughing shyly. “Hope you like it.”
“I told you to save yourself the trouble.”
You lift the bag up and stare at it. The transparent plastic allows you to marvel at its beauty. The faint scent of newness fills your nostrils.
But the real beauty is the one who sits on your bed late on Christmas night, with her hands folded neatly on her lap like a Catholic schoolgirl. A few locks of her hair are braided with red ribbons to go with the season of giving. Her brows are as dark as her glasses, her cheeks as red as her ugly sweater.
“I like it when you trouble me.”
As always, her statements hold more meaning than they should. And, like you could through her eyewear, you can see right through them. Knowing what she tried to say causes you to inch closer to her. The sides of your thighs press against each other.
“Makes me want to trouble you more,” you reply.
She lifts her head. Already the light cockiness she so often brings with her pours back into her face, and you couldn’t be more relieved to see it again. “So do it.”
Things have a way of coming back to you. Your bag, the thrill of meeting her again, Eunbi. Not everything will return, but then it’s probably just a sign that things aren’t gonna be bad forever. There will be days you’ll get to have a vacation with her again, the promise of December’s Christmasses, being with her and her friends you’ve grown to love. There will be days for new beginnings, like this one. This is a fresh start with her. There will also always be days you’ll do whatever she wants, which somehow align with what you want too.
Refer to this:
You kiss her, your little trouvaille.
#kpop smut#smut#kpop fanfiction#fanfiction#kpop fanfic#fanfic#girl group smut#female idol smut#soloist smut#idol smut#izone smut#kwon eunbi smut#eunbi smut#izone eunbi smut#male reader#x reader#reader insert#idol x male reader#idol x reader#kpop x reader#kpop x male reader#pov smut#iz days of christmas#iz days of christmas 2023#iz days of christmas 2023 day 1#kofimission#commission
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Hi! Can you write one about Tom Blyth and actress!reader where after filming a movie they grew closer and closer until finally one day Tom or reader or both confess their feelings for one another? Or maybe it can be them both being oblivious and everyone basically knows they’re in love until one of their costars helps them finally confess to one another? Thank you!
Baby, You're Perfect; Tom Blyth
pairing - Tom Blyth x actress!reader
summary - its easy to fall for Tom on screen and even easier to fall for him in real life
words - 1.31k
warning - js fluff! Tom's a cutie
note - I tried my best! I hope you like it :3 idk why but the pictures aren't working. trying to fix it asap
"You two are awfully close."
Although neither of you answered the question, the interviewer could sense the unspoken truth lingering in the air, revealed by the way both of you were flustered.
Working alongside Tom on a romance film created a bond that extended beyond the scripted lines. Having played his love interest on screen, the chemistry between the two of you was through the roof.
From the moment you sat down in your designated seat at the table, he caught your eye. You were curious to see how the chemistry read would play out. It turns out you two got along extremely well.
“Well, yes, seeing him every day has that effect; he’s such a sweetheart,” you confessed during the interview, a smile playing on your lips.
“Oh, don’t listen to her; she’s over-exaggerating," Tom interjected with a playful grin, emphasizing the chemistry within your off-screen dynamic.
He is a known gentleman, bringing you flowers every week on set—a thoughtful act born from the understanding of your love for them. The cast playfully teased him for it, drawing parallels from his on-screen character, who loved giving gifts to his girl. You adored his actions; no one had ever brought you flowers before.
As filming wrapped up, a sense of melancholy settled in, originating from the reluctance to part ways—you enjoyed your time on set. The days were a blend of shooting scenes or relaxing with Tom wherever you were, no matter what you were with him at all times.
Now that you were on the press tour for your film, you and Tom were closer than ever. The days were a whirlwind, going from interview to interview and then straight to the hotel to catch up on rest. The limited days off were cherished, offering you both a break from the spotlight.
Walking through different cities with Tom by your side became a treasured routine, despite the presence of paparazzi trailing your every move. Cameras flashed every time you went out with your hands intertwined, capturing moments that fueled rumors and speculations.
“Tom! Are you and Ms. Jones matching shoes on purpose?” A paparazzo called out, drawing attention to the coordinated footwear chosen during your shopping spree.
“Ms. Jones, do you have anything to comment on the dating rumors between you and Mr. Blyth?” another inquired. That is what most of them ask nowadays. Could they sense the feelings you had for your co-star? Ignoring the persistent questions, Tom guided you away from the crowd of cameras, seeking refuge in the waiting car.
“That was a lot,” he remarked after a few minutes of silence, his tone carrying exhaustion.
“It was. I can’t wait to get back to my hotel room.” He sensed something was off as you muttered your response. You were always able to hold a conversation with him; there was never a dull moment between you two. Though he knew you were tired from the day’s activities, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had done anything wrong.
As the car pulled up to the hotel, you hastily exited and rushed up to your room, leaving him behind. Guilt gnawed at you, but facing him after the intrusion of the paparazzi was a challenge you weren’t ready to tackle.
A few hours later, a soft knock at your door interrupted the solitude. You welcomed him in before crawling under the covers once again; there was no reason to ignore him.
“What’s going on, sweetie?” He looked at you with concern filling his eyes as he sat down next to you on the bed. “I know it's not because you’re tired; you’ve been napping for a while. Please talk to me." His genuine concern cut through the unspoken tension.
Once you didn’t answer, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of bed. The two of you made your way to the door, where he handed you your shoes.
“Where are we going?” You questioned while standing back up, to which he replied by telling you your destination is someplace you would enjoy.
He dragged you all the way to the car and closed your door as you got in the passenger seat, like a true gentleman. The two of you drove around with the windows down, screaming along to your shared playlist.
“Are you feeling better, now?” He turned down the music, waiting to hear your answer. “I am, thank you. Would you like me to explain?" Communication was very important to you, and unable to deceive him, you felt compelled to reveal the truth.
“In all honesty, the paparazzi got too overwhelming. Especially with all the dating questions.” You admitted, your gaze fixed on a point in the car, avoiding direct eye contact.
Tom’s expression softened, a mixture of understanding and empathy in his eyes. He parked the car in an empty parking lot before reaching out for your hand and placing it in his lap. “Hey, you don’t have to face this alone. And, for the record, I hate how they invade our personal lives as well.”
A smile appeared on your lips, appreciating his supportive words. “It’s just... the questions about us and whether we are dating. I didn’t know how to handle it,” you confessed, vulnerability filling the open air.
He nodded, his thumb gently rubbing against your hand. “I understand; it's okay to feel overwhelmed. But you don’t have to worry about handling it alone. We can get through this together.”
The sincerity in his words reassured you and provided comfort in his presence. “Thank you, Tom. This means a lot more than you realize,” you replied, your voice genuine.
"Anytime, sweetie, we’re a team, on and off-screen.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.
You couldn’t help but notice a shift in the air—a subtle change in the dynamic between you two. The unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface were now begging to be let out.
Silence soon enveloped the car; the only thing playing was the music set to a low volume. The weight of the implicit emotions hung in the air, yet there was a shared understanding that needed no words.
You debated breaking the silence, but fortunately, Tom spoke up before you could. “You know, I’ve been thinking about it more and more recently... Maybe it’s time we addressed the dating rumors.”
Your eyebrows were raised in surprise. “Agreed, but how do we go about it?"
“Let’s be honest with them,” he paused, thinking of how he should continue. “We were going to have to talk about it one day, so why not tell them the truth now?”
Your heart skipped a beat, and the idea of him actually liking you echoed in your mind. “The truth?”
He nodded, honesty in his eyes. “What if we tell them that the chemistry they see on screen is more than just acting?"
You caught your breath, the unspoken truth finally swimming to the surface. “Tom, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I like you, not just as a co-star; everything we do together is what I've always dreamed about. Baby, you’re perfect.”
A rush of emotion swept over you, and a genuine smile graced your face. “Tom, I like you too, more than I ever thought I would.”
His smile mirrored yours as he stared into your eyes. “Then let’s tell them the truth. We like each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
As you shared a lingering look, he slowly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Your surroundings seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that moment of equal vulnerability.
Breaking the kiss, Tom grinned, his eyes filled with love and affection. “Ready to face the world?” he paused, waiting for some kind of response, continuing once he saw you nod.
"So, let’s start right now.”
#coriolanus snow#tbosas#the hunger games#coriolanus snow x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth imagine#oneshot#fluff#tom blyth x you#confession#late night drives
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୨୧⸝⸝﹕if you call me a fool, then i’ll be a fool.
SUMMARY! you’ve been in love with park wonbin since the day the two of you met and never found the courage to tell him. why is it that you find yourself yearning to confess the moment someone else comes into the picture?
PAIRING! park wonbin x fem!reader
GENRE! college!au, slice of life, fluff, angst (an attempt was made), friends to lovers, IDIOTS to lovers omg WC 8.1k
WARNING! swearing, jealousy, y/n likes wonbin an insane amount girl get up, insecurity, anton instigates like it’s his job and he’s up for a promotion, random female idol is mentioned many times (nothing against her!!), not proofread
NOTE! do u guys know what song the title is from lol.. LOL also i had another wonbin fic i wanted to post and deleted it bc it sucked so actually im posting this one as a coping mechanism
you don’t realize the way you’re staring at the back of wonbin’s head until a voice snaps you out of your trance. “do you know what you want?” shotaro asks you, waving a hand in front of your face.
currently, the two of you, along with wonbin, seunghan, and anton, are standing in line at a beverage kiosk. the latter, having already received his drink, stands to your right while shotaro stands to your left. seunghan recites his order to the employee while wonbin stands idly behind him.
“don’t even bother asking,” anton chortles, lips still wrapped around his straw. “she’s probably gonna have wonbin order for her, like always.” you lightly slap him in the arm after the words leave his mouth, eyes darting to the aforementioned boy standing merely 2 inches in front of you, hoping he hadn’t heard anton’s teasing.
“i didn’t even say anything wrong! he orders for you all the time!” the boy whines, jokingly rubbing his arm where you had hit him.
shotaro lets out a curt laugh at the interaction, knowing that anton’s words held truth to them, whether you liked to admit it or not. “it’s because she’s shy. right, y/n?” he turns to you, attempting to diffuse your embarrassment. one look at the smile on his face and anyone would be able to tell that his words were complete bullshit. the two of you knew that the real reason you liked having wonbin order for you was because you liked him.
however, for your own sake, you sigh and choose to agree with shotaro’s statement, only offering a small nod. “whatever,” anton mutters under his breath, walking over to seunghan who has his own beverage in hand.
now that you, shotaro and wonbin were the only people in line, shotaro grabs your sleeve and gently pulls you backwards, putting more distance between the two of you and the boy who was now placing his order. before shotaro says anything, you know what the topic of conversation is going to be.
“do you ever plan on telling him?” is all he inquires, his voice lowering to a whisper. you avoid his piercing gaze, instead turning to look at anton and seunghan, laughing in between sips of their respective drinks. anton is already nearly finished with his, you note.
when you’re done observing them, you shift your attention to wonbin, who has his arms crossed as he points at one of the cup sizes the kiosk has on display, indicating that it’s the one he wants.
you’re unable to see his face but you’re able to picture it better than anything. the way his lip quirks upwards in an attempt to be polite to the employee. the furrow of his brow as he asks a question.
shotaro sighs at your silence and finds it astonishing how you’re able to ogle wonbin without even looking at his face. that very sigh brings you back into reality, finally meeting the gaze of the boy currently interrogating you.
“he… doesn’t think of me that way,” you slowly tell him, as if the words would physically pain you if you uttered them too quickly. shotaro lets out a noise you can only assume was meant to be a scoff, but being passive aggressive simply doesn’t run in his blood.
“are you kiddi-“ shotaro is interrupted by wonbin holding a drink in front of your face, thus putting a barrier between the two of you. “here, y/n,” the long haired boy hums, not moving from his spot until you take the beverage filled plastic cup. if you didn’t have park wonbin tunnel vision, as shotaro likes to call it, you’d see the way anton is shaking his head and letting out a short laugh in disbelief upon witnessing the interaction. “called it,” he tells seunghan, who only blinks in confusion.
“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, but i remembered that time we went to that other drink place and you said you really liked the strawberry one, so i got you that,” wonbin explains, holding his own straw up to his mouth. he says it nonchalantly, as if you could either finish the drink in about 5 seconds before proclaiming how much you enjoyed it, or you could throw it to the ground and curse at him for assuming the flavor you wanted, and he wouldn’t flinch either way.
“um— yes— yeah, i..” you stutter, and shotaro swears it takes everything in him not to slap his own forehead at your sudden jumpiness. “i like it, thank you. you didn’t have to, wonbin,” you exhale, holding your drink with both hands.
“yeah, well, force of habit, you know?” the boy laughs. “since i’m always ordering for you anyway.” his words cause you to tense and you can just picture anton’s shit-eating grin after he heard what wonbin said. “right, yeah,” you nod, wanting the conversation to be over with. the 5 of you continue walking throughout the mall, seunghan complaining about what a ridiculous amount of time you had all just spent at that beverage kiosk.
“force of habit is crazy,” anton decides to tease you again, earning another slap on the arm. “stop hitting me!”
besides ordering drinks for you when you hadn’t requested for him to do so, anton has noticed that wonbin also tends to subconsciously let you get away with… a lot.
he doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he rolls his eyes when he walks into the living room and sees none other than you and wonbin, the latter seated on the carpeted floor while you’re situated on the couch behind him, playing with his hair.
“i shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters, barely audible. he’s unsure if he wanted you and wonbin to hear him, but your head snaps in his direction nonetheless. “hey, anton,” you greet him despite knowing that he’d have a lot to say about your current position. he nods his head in acknowledgement before pursing his lips. you brace yourself for whatever comment he’ll inevitably make next, morphing your lips into a straight line.
“you know,” anton starts, and you’re already holding back the urge to groan. “wonbin never lets any of us touch his hair like that.”
“right, because you guys are always so eager to play with my hair, huh?” wonbin quips sarcastically. anton shrugs, although wonbin isn’t looking at him. “so you’re saying if we wanted to, we could?” anton questions, moving across the living room to grab his phone charger, finally remembering why he had walked into the room in the first place.
“nah,” wonbin replies, “not sure why you’d want to, anyway.”
“i don’t see you questioning why y/n wants to do it,” anton insists, already making his way out of the room, pausing momentarily to hear wonbin’s response.
“she doesn’t need a reason,” his older friend says, “she’s y/n.” anton shakes his head and continues on his way. you resume treading your hand through wonbin’s hair as if nothing had happened, but unbeknownst to the boy sitting in front of you, your heart rate had increased at his words.
“he’s just jealous,” wonbin jokes. you only let out a short laugh in response. you wonder how he would react if you informed him that anton had actually sprung up that conversation because he knows about your tremendous crush on the raven haired boy.
“do you think you’d ever go blonde?” you inquire, changing the subject. he lets out a snort and tilts his head to look back at you. you’re grinning, trying to ignore the way your heart does somersaults in your chest.
“i don’t think the world is ready for that,” he laughs.
“what are we laughing about in here?” a voice sings from the door way, ripping your attention away from wonbin. you turn to the perpetrator and lock eyes with sungchan, who sends you a smile. you wave at him and he takes it as an invitation to sit himself down on the couch beside you.
“nothing much,” wonbin answers. your hands finally retreat from his hair and you miss the way his shoulders slump in response.
“right,” sungchan nods, turning his attention to whatever you and wonbin are watching on tv. in actuality, neither you nor him have been paying the television any mind for at least an hour, and only now do you realize that some sort of ocean documentary has been playing this whole time.
a few minutes of silence proceed before sungchan clasps his hands together and stands up from the couch abruptly, startling you.
“man, this has been boring,” he announces, eyes darting between the two of you, seated in the same positions as when he first entered the room. “do you guys even talk?”
“we were, actually, before you walked in,” wonbin mutters, not meaning for his words to come out as sourly as they do. sungchan raises his hands in the air in defense. “hey, my bad. i didn’t realize the two of you were having an ocean documentary date,” he retorts.
“we’re not having-“ you’re about to correct him, only for him to cut you off.
“but, you know, bin,” he says, “i’m not sure how sangah would feel about you having a movie date with another girl.”
you feel like your entire world freezes over the moment you hear those words leave sungchan’s mouth. you quickly rid your face of your crestfallen expression, not wanting to give yourself away.
“who?” you can’t stop yourself from asking, and sungchan just stares at you. wonbin waves his hand dismissively, shaking his head in annoyance. “shut up, dude.”
“wait, y/n doesn’t know about sangah?” sungchan asks, a genuinely confused look crossing over his features. “i thought you guys told each other everything.”
wonbin groans in irritation. “i haven’t told anyone, actually, because it doesn’t matter. you only know because you’re nosy as fuck.”
sungchan chuckles, and you would attempt to let out a halfhearted laugh if you didn’t feel like your chest was aching. you lick your lips and stare questioningly at the side of wonbin’s head.
“look, bro,” sungchan gestures towards you, causing wonbin to turn around and meet your disheartened eyes. his face drops slightly, and you’re not in the correct headspace to try and pinpoint why. “she’s upset because you didn’t tell her!” his friend chimes.
wonbin shakes his head, still looking at you. “she’s just some girl,” he huffs. “i don’t even know her that well.”
you scoff before plastering a wobbly smile onto your face. “i’m not upset,” your voice quivers and you hope that wonbin doesn’t notice it. you’re not sure why he decides to reassure you about sangah— whoever that is— but you pray that it’s not because he’s known about your pathetic crush on him all this time and is now feeling bad for you because he’s currently seeing someone.
of course, only your cruel mind could formulate such a sickening thought.
“i’m just.. surprised,” you conclude with an unconvincing nod. wonbin closes his eyes in annoyance, and you know it’s because of his intrusive friend standing in the doorway. “sungchan, just stop spreading shit around, alright?” he gives him a tired look, finally getting up from the floor. as wonbin makes his way past sungchan in the doorway, the taller boy gives him a playful slap on the shoulder. with wonbin having left the room, you find yourself looking to sungchan with urgency.
“who is sangah?” you plead, trying to keep your emotions at bay. the boy furrows his eyebrows, confusion settling into his features once more. “why do you care, y/n?” he asks. you know that his question doesn’t come from a place of mockery, but rather genuine interest. it hits you in that moment that sungchan, as smart as he is, happens to be absolutely terrible at taking a hint.
somehow, when it came to the long lasting feelings you harbored for one of his closest friends, sungchan was none the wiser. you surmise that he wouldn’t have teased wonbin so openly about another girl had he known about your feelings for the long haired boy.
that, you suppose, you can’t really blame him for.
“um,” you start, “he’s one of my closest friends.” your words are spoken through gritted teeth and clenched fists. “i’m just curious, you know?” the lie comes out easier than you think it should’ve.
sungchan hums, crossing his arms and giving you a curt nod. “just some girl,” sungchan tells you, repeating wonbin’s words from a few minutes ago. “yoon sangah. she’s in our music fundamentals class. like, 2 days ago, i think, she wrote her instagram handle on a slip of paper and gave it to wonbin right in front of me.” your face falls for what seems like the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. you can only offer the tall boy a nearly inaudible hum in response.
“do you think it’ll lead to anything? you know, between her and wonbin?” again, you can’t stop yourself from asking. you feel sick at the thought of playing into the role of ‘jealous, overthinking girlfriend’, and even sicker at the fact that you and wonbin aren’t even dating. what right do you have to be inquisitive about his love life?
still, you can’t help it. when sungchan takes a bit longer to respond to your question you fear you’re treading on dangerous territory, afraid that even the dense boy you’re conversing with may have cracked the code. the grin that he aims at you a few seconds later serves as reassurance that, no, he still doesn’t know anything.
“that’s a good question, y/n dearest,” he pats your shoulder lightly. “i guess only time will tell.”
you hate yourself for what you’re doing right now.
looking back on the conversation you had with sungchan hours prior to this moment, you recalled him mentioning that sangah had given wonbin her instagram. thus, like any normal person would do in your situation, you took it upon yourself to go through wonbin’s following list in an attempt to find her.
you scroll past your own account, past the accounts of your mutual friends, and a few people who you presume are some of wonbin’s classmates.
when you finally stumble across sangah’s account, your body fills with dread before you even see a proper photo of her.
judging by her profile picture alone, you can tell that she’s pretty. you’re fully looking at her profile now, and your frown only deepens. she’s beautiful.
you shake your head as if it would help ease your racing mind. she’s beautiful, yes, you think, but looks aren’t everything. you find yourself childishly crossing your fingers that sangah had the personality of an evil witch, so that even if wonbin fell victim to her physical charm, he’d be pushed away by her true nature.
you let out a quiet scoff. you can’t believe you’re sitting here thinking badly about another girl just because she might have a crush on the same man you’ve been in love with since the day you met him. in the same sense, you can’t believe that when you say that sentence out loud, it actually sounds a bit reasonable. you blame sungchan, for a moment, drawing the inference that you wouldn’t feel so insecure right now if it hadn’t been for his previous teasing.
you can’t stop yourself when you click on one of sangah’s posts. she doesn’t have many, but the few that she has have seemed to gather thousands of likes. despite this, you take note of the fact that wonbin doesn’t have any of them liked— thank god, you think to yourself. you start to analyze her photos, the faces she makes at the camera, the outfits she wears, the way her hair is styled. when studying her facial expressions, you wonder if she’s made those same faces while looking at wonbin. when taking her outfits into consideration, you wonder if wonbin has seen her wearing any of them and thought she looked particularly nice. whilst examining her hair, you resist the urge to rip out your own. it’s perfect. she’s perfect.
she’s perfect, and from what you can tell, you aren’t anything like her. so what does that make you?
you move to close the app, feeling filled to the brim with self doubt when you suddenly freeze as your phone vibrates. you hesitantly open your dms and your eyes widen as they fall upon the newest message.
[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: why are u awake
your heart races and you momentarily contemplate if wonbin had somehow set up a security camera in your bedroom without your knowledge because how on earth did he know?
you don’t ponder on the matter for long, the aforementioned boy sending another message merely a few seconds later.
[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: u have ur activity status turned on btw
exhaling a breath of relief, you type a response to him.
[3:03 AM] you: why are U awake park wonbin
[3:03 AM] 1bin_02: i just woke up like 5 minutes ago. my y/n senses were tingling and my unconscious body felt a disturbance
[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: kiddinggg
[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: but fr why are u awake
you hold your breath as you type out your next response, choosing to be daring. you decide that, even if it’s only for a few seconds, you’re no longer going to be a coward.
[3:06 AM] you: i was thinking about u
[3:06 AM] 1bin_02: ditto
[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: i know im amazing and everything but don’t let me stop u from getting ur beauty rest 🙄 jk
[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: gn dummy
you decide against saying anything else, shutting off your phone with a sigh. you are a dummy, you think, and the boy who had just given you that title has no idea that it’s all because of him.
you’re exhausted the next day, concluding that being awake at 3 in the morning despite knowing that you had a class at 8AM was not the best idea.
wonbin is quick to take note of this, poking you on your side as the two of you follow your usual route to your next lecture of the day. “i bet someone regrets staying up until 3AM, hm?” he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as you swat his hand away. “like you weren’t up at 3AM, too,” you mutter. he clicks his tongue in response. “that was only for a few minutes,” he says, “who knows how long you were awake for, though.”
before you’re forced to dignify wonbin with a response, anton and seunghan walk up to the two of you, the latter offering a wave while the former only smiles.
“where are we headed, guys?” seunghan asks, throwing an arm around wonbin. the boy attempts to shrug him off to no avail. “anton and i wanted to go get drinks and we were wondering if you guys wanted to come with,” he grins before quietly adding, “and maybe also pay for them.”
you laugh and wonbin turns to you upon hearing it, letting out a playful scoff of his own. “can’t, y/n has class in 10 minutes or so,” he turns to the two boys who now have their eyebrows raised in apprehension. “that’s where we were headed,” he finishes.
“and you’re walking her there,” anton nods, his words posing as more of a statement than a question. you can only dramatically roll your eyes. wonbin doesn’t seem to pick up any undertones, only nodding in response. “i might be able to tag along afterwards, though. no promises.”
“well, anton,” seunghan sighs, turning to his friend, “we’ll just have to take shotaro inste-“
the boy is cut off by the sound of a girlish voice calling out wonbin’s name. all 4 of you turn around in unison, and you feel like your heart has physically sunken into the floor. sangah.
wonbin’s at a loss for words for a moment and you want to run away more than anything. you’re not prepared to see the two of them interact, especially after looking at her instagram page last night. “hey, sangah,” is all he says, a smile plastered on his face that pains you to look at.
the girl is practically beaming. “what are you up to?” she grins, her eyes not daring to look anywhere but him. his eyes flicker to you momentarily, who is struggling to breathe.
“i’m walking her—” he gestures to you and sangah finally looks away from him, eyes now trained on yours, “to class. well, i was, before these two showed up.” wonbin waves a hand in anton and seunghan’s direction, the two boys adorning matching confused expressions on their faces. nobody moves a muscle for a few seconds and you’re afraid that your rapid heartbeat can be heard atop of the pin-drop silence.
“oh! my bad,” wonbin clears his throat, “guys, this is sangah,” he gestures towards the girl, “sangah, this is… guys.” he gestures towards his friends. “and y/n,” he gestures towards you for the second time, giving you a tap on the shoulder for good measure. sangah’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and she reaches out to shake your hand. you’re positive that if it weren’t for the freezing hallways of your university, your hands would be sweating, so you silently thank whoever’s in charge of the ac for seemingly always having it cranked up to the max. you and the girl shake hands, her smile noticably brighter than yours.
“nice to meet you, y/n,” she says. “you, too,” is all you’re able to respond with, smile tight.
“nice to meet you guys, too,” she waves at anton and seunghan with both hands and they wave back, offering their own respective greetings in return. awkward.
you cough, attempting to break the silence. “this has been fun,” you press your lips together for a second, “but i’ve gotta get to class. hope you guys have fun at that drink place later, or whatever,” you trail off, the last part of your sentence aimed towards anton and seunghan. “and it was nice meeting you, again,” you add, making eye contact with sangah. she smiles. you don’t say anything to wonbin as you attempt to squeeze past him, but he grabs your arm. “i’m walking with you, remember?��� he says. you resist the urge to look at sangah or anyone else in your vicinity for that matter, surprised at his words. this random girl who’s obviously into him is standing only a few inches away and wonbin still insists on walking you to class.
“it’s okay,” you shake your head, unsure. wonbin can tell that you’re beginning to feel upset and he desperately wishes that sangah and even seunghan and anton were anywhere but here. “y/n-“ he starts, you cut him off. “it’s fine, wonbin,” you reaffirm. it isn’t, though.
you begin to walk in the direction of your class and release a breath that you hadn’t known you were holding. deep down, you wanted wonbin to disregard your words and resume walking with you, leaving sangah and his friends standing in the hallway. but wonbin was too polite for that, and you couldn’t even turn around to see if he had continued to engage in conversation with the 3 of them because you felt tears forming in your eyes. stupid, stupid, stupid, you think to yourself.
unbeknownst to you, sangah was able to sense the tension in the atmosphere before anyone had even said anything to her. she kisses her teeth, scratching the side of her head. “i should probably go, too,” she tells wonbin. the boy can tell that she would’ve liked to talk more, but he wasn’t looking to become friends or even acquaintances with her. doing that would only give her the wrong idea, and he didn’t want to have any bad blood with someone he’d be forced to see nearly everyday in class. the boy nods in understanding, giving her a wave. “nice.. talking to you,” he bids her farewell, unsure of what to say, because whatever had just transpired definitely did not qualify as a conversation. the girl waves back with an unwavering smile, walking in the opposite direction you had gone.
“oh, man,” seunghan lets out a laugh he had been holding in, “that was the worst. please don’t ever put me through anything like that again.” anton silently agrees, cringing.
“is it just me,” wonbin starts, ignoring his friend’s remark, “or did y/n seem kind of upset before she left?”
anton stretches his arms slightly, eyes looking anywhere but at his dark haired friend. “wonder why that might be,” he muses under his breath, but wonbin catches it. “what do you mean?” he pushes, looking his younger friend in the eye. anton puts his hands in the air in mock surrender.
“anton, what the hell do you mean?” wonbin asks again, voice tinged with annoyance. anton shakes his head, “figure it out.”
seunghan watches his friends go back and forth, a bit confused himself. much like sungchan, he seems to be completely oblivious when it comes to the way you feel about wonbin.
you’re currently sitting in class wondering why you even bothered to show up.
you knew before you even sat down that you wouldn’t be able to process a single word of the lecture, your mind thinking over your first official encounter with sangah.
ever since last night, you’ve started to dread moments like these— none of your friends being around to distract you, leaving you alone with your own miserable thoughts. it feels as though each minuscule moment of silence is filled with your insecurities being pushed to the forefront of your mind.
what did they talk about after you had left? did seunghan and anton decide to leave shortly after, leaving wonbin and sangah alone? did they grow closer in the small amount of time they were left together? even worse, what if the amount of time they spent together wasn’t small at all? oh god, what if they’re still together right now?
had anton, seunghan or, worst of all, wonbin decided to invite sangah to their aforementioned drink hangout? your mind drifts to the image of wonbin ordering a drink for sangah, the same way he always does for you, and you feel like bursting into tears similarly to the way you had almost done so on your way to class.
and sangah— god, you wanted to hate her so bad. your prayers that she had the personality of a wicked witch were thrown out the window the second she opened her mouth. she was so nice to you. the guy that she likes had openly expressed that he wanted to walk you to class and she still smiled at you. she’s got the most perfect appearance and most perfect attitude and you feel like you can’t compete with any of it.
you check your phone for the first time in approximately 30 minutes, eager for a distraction. you’re dismayed to see only 3 notifications, one from the boy who seems the root of every current problem in your life, and two from sungchan.
[10:04 AM] bin 🫶: everything ok??
[10:16 AM] sungchani: hey
[10:16 AM] sungchani: we’re all gonna hang out on friday night (as decided by me just now) and u will be coming! (also decided by me just now)
you open your phone, typing a quick response to wonbin about how everything is fine (lie) and sending another short message in hopes of steering the conversation in a different direction. you open the two messages from sungchan, shaking your head as if he’d be able to sense your attitude through the screen.
[10:48 AM] you: who’s “we” exactly…. and what will “we” be doing
[10:50 AM] sungchani: don’t act dumb girl… me, you, taro, seunghan, anton and wonbin obviously. was gonna see if eunseok and sohee could make it but i doubt eunseok would wanna and i think sohee’s doing some group assignment lolol
[10:51 AM] sungchani: as for your other question i was thinking about going to the movies yay or nay? (say yay)
[10:51 AM] you: pass
[10:52 AM] sungchani: perfect see u there!
you don’t bother responding to sungchan’s final message, knowing that no amount of opposition from you would deter him. he’d probably drag you all the way to the theater himself if he had to. but you really don’t want to go, feeling drained from the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind ever since sungchan mentioned sangah for the first time. you’d much rather spent your friday night in bed, trying to give your brain a much needed break. maybe if you really felt like torturing yourself, you’d pull up sangah’s instagram once more.
when class ends, you’re shocked to find anton waiting for you outside of the lecture hall. he’s holding a plastic cup filled with chai tea, leaning against the wall leisurely as he sips through an orange straw. he doesn’t look in your direction, which confuses you, because you’re undoubtedly the reason he’s currently standing outside of your classroom.
“lee anto-“ the boy in question cuts you off by lifting his index finger in front of your face, still not looking at you. you scoff in irritation, not wanting to deal with his antics in your current state.
“you’re coming on friday, yes?” he questions, his voice slightly above a whisper. “not if i don’t have to,” you say, your voice at a normal volume. anton, finally looking you in the eyes, presses his index finger to his lips as if to indicate that you need to be quieter. “you do have to,” he nods.
you pinch the bridge of your nose. “why the hell are you whispering?” you scowl, and he keeps his index finger on his lips. you groan before reluctantly lowering your voice to match his, despite the fact that you still don’t know why he wants you to do so. “what’s going on?” you inquire.
“you have to come on friday,” he repeats quietly, “and you’re gonna tell dark star that you’re in love with him.”
you blink. “who?” anton leans his head back in annoyance before mouthing, “PARK WONBIN.” you recoil for a myriad of reasons. “first of all, i’m not coming on friday,” your voice slightly increases in volume, “and even if i was, i most definitely would not use it as an opportunity to confess to wonbin. and why in the world did you just call him that?” you finish, exasperated.
anton only sips his drink, his aura calm and collected. “you’re going,” he answers pointedly, “because if you don’t, dark star is gonna find out either way.”
your eyes widen and you feel like all of the air has left your lungs. “what do you mean by that? you wouldn’t actually-“
“i would, though. if telling dark star about your crush on him would get you to stop pining after him like a fool, why wouldn’t i? and, in addition,” anton fully turns to you, his voice raising to a light mumble, “i saw the way you reacted when sarah started talking to him earlier.”
“it’s sangah,” you deadpan. anton waves his hand dismissively. “not the point. with the way you acted earlier, you would’ve thought they were getting married right in the middle of that hallway,” he sounds concerned as he speaks the words, not looking anywhere but at you.
“i’m not saying that wonbin— dark star, i mean, has a thing for sandra right now. frankly, i don’t think he cares about her at all,” anton continues, “but if you’re that worried about some random girl taking him away from you when they’ve known each other for like, a week, i think that’s a sign that it might be a good idea to tell him how you’re feeling.”
you look down, letting his words settle into your mind. “i’ll come on friday,” you nod, and the boy in front of you smiles at your words, “but i have to give the whole confessing to wonbin thing a bit more thought. i mean, it’s kind of sudden.” anton’s advice actually made sense, you think, but you’re not sure if you’re ready to tell the boy you’ve been harboring feelings for all this time that you’re in love with him on a random friday night.
“sudden?” anton asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “i think it’s long overdue. fire tornado hector thinks so, too,” he tells you.
you turn to him, dumbfounded. “where the hell are you getting these names from?!”
friday night comes in the blink of an eye and you’re standing in the lobby of the theater with shotaro, anton, seunghan, and sungchan. wonbin is nowhere to be seen.
“i told him 7PM sharp,” sungchan murmurs impatiently, checking his watch. shotaro turns to anton, jokingly hitting the younger boy on the arm with a laugh. “imagine he just decided to stay home,” he chuckles, “i bet y/n would be relieved.”
“why would she be relieved?” seunghan intrudes curiously. anton shrugs. “i told her she had to confess to wonbin tonight,” he says casually, as if he hadn’t just revealed your not-so-secret secret to an unsuspecting seunghan. the older boy’s eyebrows raise at anton’s words, his lips parting.
“you like wonbin?” he questions you eagerly. “dude, i can’t believe you didn’t know by now,” anton answers in your place as you press your lips together. “and we won’t be using the name wonbin when he arrives. he’s dark star. the codename helps when you’re trying to be discreet,” he finishes.
“yeah, because you know all about being discreet, right?” you reply, voice laced with sarcasm. anton knows that you’re referring to the way he had exposed your feelings for wonbin merely 30 seconds ago, avoiding your gaze as he whistles idly.
“sorry i’m late, guys,” the man of the hour exhales as he walks up to the 5 of you. sungchan studies wonbin, unimpressed. the latter can sense his older friend’s agitation, clicking his tongue. “you’ll forgive me once you find out why i’m late,” he assures, “look who i brought with me.”
you can’t prevent the way your heartbeat escalates, both at the mere presence of wonbin and the words that have just left his mouth. you’re unsure if you even want to find out who he’s brought with him, fearing the worst.
“sohee! eunseok!” you hear sungchan exclaim, excitedly making his way over to the two figures that have just entered the theater. he wraps his lengthy arms around both of them simultaneously.
“guess our invitations got lost in the mail, huh?” eunseok muses, returning his friend’s embrace. the three of them return to where you and the others are standing and sungchan scratches the back of his neck. “my bad, man,” he utters bashfully, “the movie we’re watching is pretty lame. didn’t think you’d be into it.”
“still, it’s an excuse to see you guys,” eunseok shrugs, turning to greet everyone else. sohee does the same, wrapping his arms around you before anyone else.
“y/n! it’s been forever,” he grins, you return it. “it’s been… 2 weeks,” you tell him, hugging him back nonetheless. “i still missed you, though,” you hum. “stop hogging him, y/n!” seunghan teases, “we haven’t seen him in weeks either!”
the two of you release each other, and when you turn, wonbin is at your side. he taps your arm. “why don’t you greet me like that?” he feigns jealousy, pursing his lips. you smile at him, hoping to mask your nervousness, “i see you everyday.”
he rolls his eyes. “that doesn’t mean you can’t miss me.”
“i always do,” you say absentmindedly. by the time your words register, wonbin is already grinning. “ditto,” he mutters, his words meant for only you to hear.
he turns away before you can comment, and eunseok takes his place beside you. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, greeting you. you think nothing of his actions before he leans down, angling his head so that it’s directly next to your ear. “i heard about healing michael’s plan,” he whispers, “the one about getting you to confess to dark star.”
“please don’t start this,” you plead, “i cannot deal with these nicknames right now. and how do you know about that?”
“um,” he starts, moving his head away from yours, “obviously healing michael filled me in on everything. just because we don’t physically see each other everyday doesn’t mean we don’t have a group chat.” he moves back to the previous topic, “he threatened to tell dark star about how you’re madly in love with him, right? he’s bluffing,” eunseok explains, “if you confess to dark star tonight, it should be because you really love him. not because anton frightened you into doing it.”
you nod at eunseok’s words, unsure. “and,” he continues, “it shouldn’t be about some other girl that might like him, either.” he takes note of the way your eyes widen a fraction. “yeah, anton told me about that, too,” he nods as you make a mental reminder to yell at anton later for airing out your business.
“what i’m saying, y/n, is make sure that you’re telling him how you feel, not for anyone else, but for you. well, and for him. and for you and him, together,” eunseok concludes, “don’t let healing michael or sandy get in the way of it.”
“it’s sangah,” you sigh, in awe of the fact that you’ve had to correct both him and anton. sungchan appears to have heard your final words, perking up at the mention of wonbin’s classmate.
“sangah? we’re talking about sangah?” he blurts out, turning to wonbin with a smile. “bro, we totally should’ve invited her,” he jokes, slapping his friend on the arm, “seeing her and wonbin interact in the theater would’ve been hilarious.” everyone grows tense at sungchan’s teasing— he was somehow still the only one unaware of your feelings for wonbin.
wonbin only shakes his head in response, his first instinct being to look over at you. you’re wearing that same disheartened look on your face as the first time you found out about sangah, and he can hardly breathe. his eyes narrow at the sight of eunseok’s arm still hanging off your shoulders.
“sungchan, when does the movie start? we’ve been standing here for a while,” shotaro states, attempting to alleviate the situation. “oh, we still have about,” sungchan checks the time on his watch, “ten minutes before the trailers even start playing,” he responds.
shotaro ushers the group over to the concession counter, quickly making some excuse about everyone needing to choose their snacks for the movie. “amateurs,” sungchan mutters, “who doesn’t bring their own snacks to the movies?”
wonbin finds his place beside you again, briefly studying your features. he notices the way you stand stiffly in your spot and the slight wrinkle between your brows. “hey,” he tries to get your attention. your eyes soften as they meet his that are flooded with worry. “i’m sorry,” he frowns, “about what happened back there. i don’t know why he keeps mentioning her.”
you’re puzzled and, yet again, asking yourself if he’s apologizing because he knows that you have feelings for him or if it’s because he still thinks you’re upset that he didn’t tell you about sangah sooner.
you prayed that he wasn’t apologizing due to the former, but why would he even need to apologize if it was the latter? if nothing was going on between wonbin and sangah, he had no reason to tell you about her. you press your lips into a tight line. maybe that was it— something was going on between them. that’s why he’s saying sorry to you right now, because he regrets not telling you before when you’re supposed to be one of his closest friends.
and that’s all you’ll ever be to him, because you were too much of a coward to confess to him when you had the chance. you think about how disappointed your friends are going to be once you break the news to them that you wouldn’t be confessing to wonbin tonight, or ever.
“don’t apologize, wonbin,” you quietly tell him, and he wonders why it seems as though you’re about to cry. he shakes his head, getting the sense that you misunderstood his words. he looks back at your mutual friend group, seeing that they’re all preoccupied. wonbin seizes the opportunity, grabbing your hand and taking you to a secluded area of the theater.
“please don’t tell me not to apologize,” he breathes, “because i have so much to apologize to you for.”
you’re confused and concerned, your lips parting slightly. you don’t have the chance to savor the feeling of wonbin’s hand still holding yours because you’re mentally preparing yourself for whatever words he’s about to say. this is it, you tell yourself. you stare at the ground, anticipating the feeling of disappointment and rejection.
“i like you so much.”
you stop breathing as the words leave wonbin’s mouth. you’re terrified to look up, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly. he responds to your unvoiced worries by repeating the statement.
“i like you so much, and i’m sorry for holding it in this long,” he says breathlessly, “i’m sorry for letting sungchan talk about sangah all the time, because i didn’t want you to think that i could ever like anyone else.”
he continues despite your silence. “and i’m sorry for telling you all of this in a movie theater, of all places. i’ve been psyching myself up for weeks, but i couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing any longer. i’m tired of misunderstandings.”
he finally takes a deep breath, and you look up at him for the first time. “are you serious?” is all you’re able to say. you want to be 100% sure that your mind isn’t being as cruel as it normally is when it comes to park wonbin.
he nods, appearing to be just as nervous as you are, and you think that’s good enough of an indicator that he’s not joking.
“you fool,” you breath out in utter disbelief, not knowing if your words are directed at wonbin or yourself. the boy looks troubled for a moment before he hears a noise similar to a sob leave your mouth.
you hide your face with your hands. “i was supposed to be the one to confess to you.”
it’s wonbin’s turn to be silent now, listening to you rant. “it was this whole thing— healing michael, dark star.. eunseok knew about it, and shotaro..” you trail off. your words don’t even make sense to yourself, and you doubt they make any sense to the boy in front of you. “my god, wonbin— i’ve liked you since the day i met you!” you cry, hands still obstructing your vision.
wonbin hesitantly takes it upon himself to grab your wrists, removing your hands from your face. “do you mean that?” he asks, trying to meet your gaze.
you don’t look him in the eye as you continue rambling. “i was so scared,” you tell him, “sungchan mentioned her out of nowhere that day and i was so scared. i thought she was your secret girlfriend, or something.” you feel stupid for telling him all of this, finally admitting to your jealousy.
“when i saw her for the first time, i thought it was over,” you shake your head, “someone so pretty having a crush on you? i felt like nothing next to her. sungchan even told me that she wrote down her instagram and casually handed it to you— i’d kill to be that confident in myself,” you’re not even paying attention to the words leaving your mouth anymore, wanting to get everything you’ve been holding in out of your system.
when you finally look at wonbin’s face, he looks sad, which startles you. you’re afraid that you’ve just killed his mood with your venting. “i’m sorry— i didn’t me-“ you’re interrupted by wonbin pulling you to his chest, shaking his head at your words. “you fool,” he repeats your words from minutes ago. “i can’t believe you’ve been feeling that way about yourself.”
he keeps you in his embrace as if you’d run away if he were to let go. “i can’t think of anyone prettier than you,” he mutters, “or nicer, or funnier. or anything, really, because i think of you more than anyone else. i guess it’s my fault, kind of. i could’ve expressed it in ways other than walking you to class and ordering dumb overpriced drinks for you.” you let out a quiet laugh at his last sentence and he smiles, pulling away slightly so he’s able to see your face.
“i guess we’re both kind of stupid,” you conclude, earning a nod from the dark haired boy. “only when it comes to you,” he says, “i happen to think i’m very intelligent on every other occasion.”
when you finally regroup with everyone, they’re all wearing looks of disappointment on their faces. upon asking what happened, eunseok shoves a thumb in sungchan’s direction, the brown haired boy adorning a sheepish expression. “this fucker got the time wrong. the movie was at 6:15, not 7:15,” eunseok grimaces, “i better get a refund for my ticket.”
“you didn’t even pay for it,” wonbin says, “i did. sohee’s, too.”
anton, having been the first one to notice both yours and wonbin’s disappearance from the group, narrows his eyes at the boy. “and where were you?” he raises a brow, attempting to look intimidating. wonbin dismisses him with the wave of a hand.
before you and wonbin decided to rejoin your friends, you had to tell him not to hold your hand, much to his dismay. only after discovering the reason why, did he reluctantly agree.
you stand as far away from wonbin as possible, putting on a melancholy act. shotaro is the first to take notice of this, putting a hand on your shoulder. “did you tell him?” he questions, your silence serving as an answer in itself. eunseok overhears, looking at you with pity in his eyes.
when anton finally sees the distance put between you and wonbin, he concludes that you weren’t able to tell him about your feelings. he sighs, shaking his head.
as if on cue, you look at wonbin with determination burning in your eyes, beginning to advance towards him. the group is silent as they watch the two of you curiously.
“dark star,” you begin straightforwardly, “i’m in love with you.” wonbin tries concealing his laughter as he swiftly takes in the reactions of his friends. eunseok smiles knowingly while anton and shotaro are wide-eyed. seunghan wears an amused expression, sohee’s eyebrows are raised, and on top of it all, sungchan looks incredibly confused.
wonbin, keeping up the act, covers his mouth in mock astonishment. “did you guys hear that?” he turns to his friends, who are now all aware that they’re being pranked. “my girlfriend is in love with me!” wonbin beams, “metal blaze, i accept your confession.”
eunseok clicks his tongue, nodding. “metal blaze, that’s a good one,” he notes under his breath.
“alright, we get it,” anton groans, “it took you guys long enough.” he turns to you, unable to stop a smile from forming. “i hope you know i was never actually going to tell him myself. i only said that in hopes of scaring you into telling him.”
you nod, “eunseok told me that already. and it wasn’t me that confessed to wonbin— he confessed to me.” everyone is shocked at your comment, seunghan walking behind wonbin and giving him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. you purposefully skip over the fact that you all but cried to wonbin immediately after said confession about how much you liked him in return, and he pinches your side.
“you know, when you guys disappeared, i made a bet with shotaro that you guys were probably making out somewhere,” eunseok adds, “he said you guys were probably just in the middle of the whole confessing thing. i owe him seven bucks now.” shotaro pats him on the back with false sympathy.
as the topic of conversation shifts to something else, sungchan’s jaw is still practically on the floor. he looks at the way wonbin has his arm around your shoulders, head practically buried in your neck. he can’t stop himself from blurting out his next words.
“has y/n had a crush on wonbin this entire time?!”
AUTHOR’S NOTE! congrats to u if u survived reading all that ohhh lord i promise i’ll make y/n less unbearable next time but for now u guys are just gonna have to find it in ur hearts to forgive me… also it’s 5am rn and idk if i hate this fic umm we’ll see if i regret posting this when i wake up tmr
#riize#riize x reader#riize au#park wonbin#wonbin imagines#wonbin x reader#riize wonbin#riize scenarios#riize imagines#riize fluff#riize angst#park wonbin x reader
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Keep on pretending pretty girl.
based on pretty girls by Renee Rapp.
Regina George x Reader
You wouldn't say that you were popular but you were definitely well known, mainly for the fact that you were openly gay and stood up for yourself if anyone had something to say.
You knew how Regina George ran the school, but you never had to interact with her, fortunately for you. Though because of your clashing personalities everyone anticipated a fight between you too, knowing you wouldn't back down, even from the top plastic.
-
You held your lunch tray out in front of you as you were walking towards your table, as you were walking a jock slapped your food out of your hands.
"What's up, lesbo?" He says, you stand still, shocked at the situation. No one has ever tried to be violent with you, it was mainly just name calling.
You look up towards the guy, who you found to be Shane Omen "What the fuck dude?"
He chuckles, mockingly. "Aw, I'm sorry, were you going to eat that?"
You shake your head, deciding to just ignore him and leave. As you went to do that, he pushed you, causing you to stumble. You grab the table to save yourself.
"Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you, dyke." You whip around, before he could even react to you facing him now, you swing your fist, hooking him right in the jaw. His head flew to the side, his hand immediately going up to try and soothe his mouth.
All the way across the gym, Regina George is watching the interaction, heat shooting straight through her body as she watches you sock her ex boyfriend in the face-
Wait did she think that was hot? No, she's not gay.
-
After the so called fight in the gym, your day was fine. You tried to ignore the shooting pain in your knuckles as you fixed your hair in the mirror. You see the door open and Regina walks through. She smirks at you.
She stands next to you, starting to adjust her her lipstick. "What's up, loser?"
You look over at her. "Uh, nothing much. what about you?" The sentence coming off more awkward than you wanted.
"I'm having a party this weekend, I want you there." Her tone makes your heart skip a beat.
"Just tell me when and where, I'll be there."
-
The weekend came sooner than you thought, leaving you rummaging through your closet. You finally find an outfit that is still your style but you're sure Regina would approve.
You walk through Regina's front door, the lights are dimmed and music is blaring. You weave through the people who were either drinking, dancing or eating each other's faces.
You find the drink table, grabbing a drink for yourself. You felt a hand on your arm, looking over to see Regina. "You came."
"Well you did invite me." You say, jokingly.
She snickers. "I wasn't sure you would show, this doesn't seem like your thing."
You shake your head. "It's not, but I figured I should try it before I have real life responsibilities."
"Well, I hope my party lives up to all of your expectations." As soon as she says that, she's wondering back into the crowd of people.
-
You find yourself sitting in a corner, the party really wasn't your thing. None of your friends were invited, so there was no one you could talk to, except for the occasional Regina.
She was sweeter than you thought she would be. Maybe it's because you haven't done anything wrong, but then again she snaps at people for just looking at her.
Speaking of her, she walks over to you, a sway in her walk. "Hey, loser."
"Hey, Regina" She slides into the spot next to you.
The smell of alcohol and expensive perfume invading your nose. You feel her turn to face you, you follow the action. "So, you're gay, aren't you?"
Ohh so this is the part where Regina finds something to tease you over and throws you out of the party? "Yeah, I like girls."
"That's cool." She says, the tension builds. "Is there any girl you have your eye on?" Her tone sounds almost like she wanting a specific answer.
"Not really, I don't talk to many people" She nods along with your statement.
She plays with her fingers. "You know... if I were gay, you would probably be my type." She inches close towards you.
You've heard that before, so many times. All of the straight girls who wanted to experiment. Why was this time different? Why did butterflies swarm your stomach? Why were you leaning in?
Before you knew it, your lips collide. A spark that makes your skin irrupt into a blush. Her hands get lost in your hair, trying to pull you closer. Your hand squeezes her thigh. You pull away, finally coming to your senses.
"What about Aaron?" Your hands remain in the same spot.
"Don't worry, he won't mind." You try to leave the situation, do the right thing and leave, but when she staring at you with her dilated pupils and kiss-swollen lips. you pull her in for another kiss, all coherent thoughts fly out of your mind, except for one that kept circling.
How can Regina be so mean if her lips are this sweet?
"Regina- oh my god" Gretchen screams.
You go to pull away but Regina holds you in place for another second, savoring the moment. "What Gretchen?" Regina was more annoyed than you thought. was she really that into the kiss?
"Aaron was looking for you, but I see that you're... busy" Gretchen looked you up and down.
Regina could tell Gretchen was judging you. "Yeah, I am actually. Tell him I left." Before Gretchen could even turn around, Regina pulls you in for a deep kiss. The action causing you to melt into her.
-
"Everyone is gone, Regina." You mutter against her lips, she slowly pulls away.
She sighs. "God, I can't get enough of you." Her sentence caused you to blush. "You know, we barely get to talk but you've always been my favorite. I think it's because you're not scared of me? I don't know but I've been watching you and I think you're cool." She plays with your hand, seeming nervous.
You smile at her. "I must be cool if I could do this." You pull her in for another kiss, she moans. You pull away, sooner than Regina wanted. she tries to follow you but eventually you break apart.
"I absolutely love what we got goin' on here but I think I should go home." She rolls her eyes, glancing over to the clock on her wall, it reads '3:00 AM'. She realizes how long you two have been there.
"Oh shit, you're right" Regina gets up, adjusting her outfit. “This was fun, baby” She pecks your lips one last time before leaving the room.
-
As you walk into the school, you’re nervous to see Regina. You’re not sure why, she said she had fun last night.
You see her passing by. "Hey Regina!" She ignores you, pushing right pass you.
What the fuck?
You brush it off, deciding to continue on with your day. You walk into your first period, the only open seat was next to Regina. You walk over there, she turns away from you as much as she can. Visibly avoiding you.
Half way through the period, you try and talk to her. "Regina, if you're mad-"
She cuts you off immediately. "Why are you talking to me? We never talked before. What changed?"
You scoff. "You know exactly what changed, but if we're going to play that game, let's do it."
Regina looks at you, slightly shocked.
-
The next time you see regina that day is in fifth period, right before lunch. She's sitting in the seat you always sit at.
"You're in my seat." You stare down at her.
She smirks. "It doesn't have your name on it."
"It actually does, I carved it in to the desk when I was bored. So get out." She looks down, seeing your name faintly carved into the plastic.
You tap your foot, getting impatient. "That doesn't make it yours. I've decided I want to sit here today."
You shake your head. "I preferred it when you didn't talk to me." You turn around, storming off to a different desk.
-
The period finally ended, after what felt like forever. You packed your notebook in your backpack, quickly leaving the class, as you were walking down the hall, a hand pulled you into the janitors closet.
"What the hell-" You were interrupted by lips crashing into yours. You quickly pull away, relieved to see Regina, but also extremely confused. "Regina-" She cut you off again. Kissing you passionately, not letting you think about anything else except for her. You kiss her back, her taste too intoxicating to not. When air became a problem, she pulled away.
"God, I hate you" She whispers against your lips.
Your brows crinkle in confusion. "Why?"
She kisses you lightly. "I think you've brought out the part of me I've been trying to keep away all these years."
"Maybe instead of hating me, you should be thanking me." She smirks.
"I think I'm showing you enough gratitude." Your lips meet again, passion overflowing.
#fanfic#regina george x reader#regina george#mean girls#renee rapp#renee rapp x reader#regina george x you#mean girls the musical#mean girls 2024#regina george is a lesbian#wlw fiction#regina george icons
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Astro Observations pt.21
Back with some very random Astro observations 😁
⚫ Saturn aspecting the 7th house actually can dislike 9 to 5 jobs or corporate office jobs. They are better with freelancing. Its coz they can't take orders. Sorry not sorry. 💀(Ig that's a Saturn 7H thing 😆)
⚫ An interesting thing I observed: Among two siblings, the elder one has Leo rising which means Scorpio 4H and the younger one has Scorpio moon. And their Mom is a Scorpio moon too. She's a nice lady though but is such a control freak. (I know I am one too, but like when I met her the second time that "controlling" vibe just hit me like a big yellow school bus 🚌😭😭).
That was so funny lol😂.
-All the more her birthdate is a single digit 1.(these people are the alpha type, always lead and never follow and hence are dominating, one to have the last say) which is cherry on top.
-She is fiercely protective of her kids. Can't emphasize enough on "fierce" part. Very strict. Rules are to be followed very religiously. {She can't stand any one of them doing anything without her knowledge. She even monitors whom they interact with what they do on their mobiles etc.(from what I suspect)} (obv Scorpio moon mom traits) (sometimes Leo moon moms too){nothing unhealthy here, just Mom's way of showing they care 😂}
⚫Saturn and Workout:
-Workout 🏋️♀️requires CONSISTENCY. Saturn LOVES consistency.
-In fact the best remedy for Saturn is sweating. JUST SWEAT by hard work. No matter what it maybe: workout, walking, jobs, cardio, sports etc. 🤸♀️🚴♀️🏋️♀️
⚫ Whilst on the topic of Saturn, people who follow a time table for literally everything the planet doesn't harm them much during its Dasha (even if its your worst one). I mean obviously you played by the rules 🤷♀️
⚫ Magha is the only nakshatra for which you don't need in depth compatibility match. They get along with everyone.
⚫Scorpio Venuses/8H Venuses are paranoid. They notice and suspect everything (sometimes things which are not there/imaginary). (For eg, me, who thinks that someone is peeping thru my curtains even when nobody is there and all my curtains cover my windows properly. 🤣).
⚫Also as a basic Scorpio Venus behavior: while writing chats/texting, I always think- "what if someone else reads it?"..so I just don't give much details in texts. (Gosh, sometimes I think somethings wrong with me 😭😭)
⚫The proven way to hurt a Leo moon: compare them with any other person and tell them that the person is wayy better in a certain thing esp if it's a triat that the Leo is proud of. 🤣 (P.S don't do that, its mean and the Leo will hunt you, which you don't want 😀.)
⚫Why do Aries moon men have a bunch of good friends for life and Aries moon women struggle with having at least one good genuine female friend for life? (I'm jealous)
⚫ Maybe its becoz they get along more with guys than gals so the girls are jealous of them...so hence no good female friends. 😢🤡
Aries moons are the best-est people for friendships you'll ever get.
⚫ People born on a Saturday look melancholic.
⚫ You can NEVER mislead a Leo rising. They study litreally everything: what you say what you do, and why you do so. Similar to Scorpios
⚫If you see a person having graceful and "royal" way of walking or behaving, they're are sure shot to have a Magha Ascendant.
⚫Connecting the dots here: as I said in one of my previous posts that Maghas get framed even when they have done nothing, what I interpreted is that Maghas are actually the definition of royalty. They literally have that ✨grace✨, that kinda magnanimous personality and similar struggles to a monarch. Totally King/Queen typa energy here. So with that, the usual consequences in a Kingdom is conspiracy against the king, which the Maghas face. (Enough with Maghas ig, started observing them recently so..✌🏻💀)
That's it for today, until next time! (like,comment and reblog loveliesss❤❤😘)
#astro observations#astro notes#astroblr#astrology#astrology community#astrology tumblr#astrology observations#astrology notes#natal chart#astro community
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— “I’m just a girl!”
☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader
☀︎ — summary: you tell azriel you don’t know what taxes are, and that you haven’t filed them ever
☀︎ — warnings: fluff, dramatic reader, azriel being sweet and educational
☀︎ — amara’s note: man i wish i was her rn💔 also this is so fucking real bc what on earth are taxes???
series masterlist
“Baby, please, you have got to grasp the gravity of this situation. Not filing your taxes is no joke. You could end up behind bars for tax evasion! There was a whole mandatory course last semester, didn’t you take it?” Azriel's tone is firm, his concern painted all over his face as he stands infront of you.
When you revealed that you didn't know what taxes were or how to "file" them, Azriel got worried sick, emphasizing the importance of understanding basic responsibilities like this.
He brought you into the living room, seated you on the sofa, and stood in front of you, carefully explaining step by step why not filing taxes was illegal and how to fix the situation. However, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on his words, your attention completely consumed by his built muscles. Your mind goes blank as you find yourself daydreaming about him taking off his shirt.
Azriel knows you’re not focusing on his words, he knows you’re ogling his body, and even though he gets warm and loves it, he needs you to focus on the topic, at least for a few minutes.
“Are you paying attention, baby?”
You honestly don’t get it at all. Like, if they take tax from you when you’re shopping, shouldn’t they already know how much you owe or whatever? And who even are the IRS? Can’t you just live your life without all this complicated stuff? Why does Azriel have to make everything so...ugh, what's the word? Complicated?
“Oh my god, Azzie! Stop it, I don’t wanna do this and I don’t understand anything. Please, I’m just a girl!” you exclaim dramatically pulling your knees to your chest as you hide your face in your hands, tears prickling in your eyes. You’re feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation and the sheer thought of dealing with stupid taxes.
Azriel sighs deeply, his brows furrowing as he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. If he doesn’t have a gray hair by the end of the week, he’ll consider it a win. As much as he wants you to understand what is wrong with basically committing a crime, he doesn’t want you crying, he feels sick to his stomach seeing you so sad but he just has to fucking ask.
“You’re—You're just a girl— sweetheart, what does that even mean?” he asks gently, completely flabbergasted by your statement.
You fold your arms over your chest, chin held high as you say, “Ya heard me, m’just a girl. And that means i should not be doing any of this, i should be living my best life instead of thinking about whatever taxes are.”
Azriel just looks at you with raised eyebrows, man you’re stressing him the fuck out. Luckily he caught your illegal activities early otherwise you would have gone to prison for sure. Even though he thinks it was ridiculous for a person to have never done their taxes ever, he doesn’t hold you against it. He just slumps his shoulders, taking a breather. Azriel can never be mad at you, never at his sweet angel. Especially not when you look so upset, big sparkly eyes looking at him with worry.
It’s in that moment. That tiny moment, he decides to never confront you with your mistakes. Sure you almost went to jail, but Azriel is here now. He is intelligent enough to think about the more serious issues for the both of you. And he will for the rest of his life, not because he has to, but because he wants to. He wants to take care of you.
“You’re right, my love, you shouldn’t worry about this. I’ll take care of it,” Azriel assures you, his tone gentle as he tucks a strand behind your ear.
You look up at him, eyes shiny with unshed tears as your face lights up before you stand up and jump into his arms, showering his face with kisses, your excitement bubbling over.
“Awe, you're the best baby, I love you so, so, soooo much!” you exclaimed, your words flowing freely in your ditzy excitement.
He laughs shyly, still getting nervous when you show him affection. “I love you too, beautiful.”
🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @andrewgarfield2022 @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @dwyniii @scoobies @harryshoobies69 @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @rowaelinsdaughter @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @viatorem-maris @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria
#talkswithamara#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar x reader#acotar imagine#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel fluff#azriel fic#azriel imagine#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acomaf#azriel acotar#az x reader#azriel x yn#azriel x bimbo reader#azriel x fem reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader fluff#azriel x you#azriel x female!reader#the sessions series#acotar series#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic#azriel sjm#sjm universe#sjm multiverse#sjm fandom
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Pairing: slasher! König x fem! Reader
Warnings: mdni, dark themes, mention of drug use and cheating, stalking, obsession, König’s pov
A/n: it’s a prequel to my Fuck or Die fic, so go check it out<3 Will this be the beginning of psychotic yan! König series?? Maybe🤭
Crouched in uncomfortable position, fabric on his knees was damp from wet soil on which König was kneeling, mosquitos buzzing all over his head, all eager to drink of his warm blood - but he didn’t budge, staying still like a panther observing its next prey. Soft rustling filled König’s ears, warm breeze ruffling up the leaves of dense shrubbery among which man sat, completely concealing his bulky form.
König’s mouth filled with saliva, dilated pupils concealed the icy blue of his eyes, making them look pitch black. He swallowed hard, exhaling as slowly as he could through his nose, a spark of excitement settling somewhere deep within his stomach, watching unblinkingly through thick lenses of his binoculars two bodies swirling together.
In a building about three hundred meters afar all widows were free from curtains, revealing the insides of the house. With thumping heart König watched guy’s hands slip down Y/n’s sides, caressing sweet indent of her waist, down to soft hips and lower, finally resting on two hemispheres of girl’s plump ass. He noted how her back arched ever so slightly, pushing further into her boyfriend’s chest, hot mouthes connecting in a sloppy kiss, bright blush dusting Y/n’s soft cheeks and pointy tips of her ears.
Breaking apart shortly after, König’s sharp eyes watched guy’s lips move. “I love you” he said and König couldn’t help but snort in amusement, memories from only few hours earlier were still fresh in his head - how that motherfucker offered to give that cute cheerleader girl from his class a ride home, pulling up in an empty parking lot, not even ten minutes later his car was shaking from side to side. Still, Y/n smiled softly at his words, making König’s jaw clench. He could do so much better.
König didn’t expect much from you at first. Truth be told - it wasn’t you who caught his attention, but your boyfriend, especially where he lived. A huge house on the outskirts - closest neighbouring cottages were at best one kilometre away, making this place a perfect target for König’s next outing. So he came to studying its inhabitants more closely - a family of three - couple in their fifties and their only son. How better can it possibly get?
So König entered his usual routine - first and most important step was to learn more about his future victims, their routines and people they were close with. It was very easy with parents - an average boring life consisting of work, household and a dinner at local restaurant every Saturday. But slasher couldn’t say the same about their child.
From the very first hours König felt deep disdain for that guy. Everything about him just felt fake. A perfect son and excellent boyfriend, captain of local football team, goody two shoes who has never done anything wrong in his whole life - everyone’s golden boy, all bright smiles and promising future. The exact same one who snorted cocaine in stale bathrooms of gas stations, hands too shaky and mind too numb from withdrawal to actually process his surroundings; the one who, stoned out of his head, gladly threw himself in embrace of other women, hardly remembering sweet face of his girlfriend.
Oh, his girlfriend. Y/n - a sweet and lovely little thing, all butterflies and unicorns, never once failing to hold König’s full attention without slightest intention of doing so.
Watching Y/n has always been way more fun and exciting for him. König guessed it had something to do with her demeanour - so drastically different from his own, that attracted him so much. How bubbly and vibrant you were, making everything around you play with new colours, just like a little ray of sunshine - something König has never been.
Oftentimes slasher caught himself listening intently to you going over newest gossip with your best friend over the phone (wiretapping is way easier than one may think), your sweet voice filling his ears like honey, soothing his raging thoughts buzzing within his skull, clinging to every smallest word you said. It didn’t take much time for König to find your socials as well, spending way much longer than he should studying your pictures, breathing becoming shallow and his dick twitching at the sight of your puffy lips, often imagining how they’d look like wrapper around his shaft.
What König took special liking of was to watch your nightly routine. It was a stable and never changing chain of events - hot shower, skincare, rubbing moisturiser into your feet, shins and hands, and then finally tucking yourself comfortably in soft bed. It was nothing special, yet König craved to be a part of it. Craved to be the one applying whatever shit that was on your pretty face, to massage good-smelling mixtures onto your cheeks
Back to reality, König watched both Y/n and that little boyfriend of hers settling down in the couch, starting some soap opera on big TV screen.
Maybe now? König’s whole body froze at sudden thought. He swallowed hard once again, his mind racing, adrenaline burning through his veins at the intensity of this idea alone. Guy’s parents were out of town, meaning that him and Y/n were all alone in the house. König glanced at the black sport bag lying right next to him on damp ground, electricity tingling his fingertips - he had all necessary stuff packed with him, just go for it.
Slasher gazed through binoculars once again, blue eyes fixating upon you two cuddled up on the couch, man’s mind now filling with all the possible things he could do to the motherfucker, sight of him holding you so gently making König’s blood boil.
Reaching over to his bag murderer opened it, pulling out his mask and checking if voice changer was working still. All of König’s thoughts dissipating into nothingness the moment soft fabric of under mask touched the skin of his cheeks, leaving place for only one thing:
Soon she will be mine
#slasher!konig#cod könig#könig modern warfare#könig mw2#könig x reader#könig x you#könig x y/n#cod fanfiction#cod mw#cod mwf2#cod modern warfare#kortac#cod x y/n#cod x you#cod x reader#call of duty writing#call of duty x you#call of duty x reader#call of duty modern warfare
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hi zoe :)) im here to request some general jealousy hc with ellie and abby
i personally have never been jealous a day in my life 😇😇
hi emi :)) i love you and because of that i will agree that you've never been jealous ever 😇 also because i think it's hot what who said that??? anyway i came out of retirement (momentarily) to answer this so i hope you enjoy <3
first thing that came to mind is that everyone thinks ellie will go insane and pull out the pocket knife but have you seen that girl when she saw dina talking to jesse… sorry but jealous ellie is looking at her feet and going fully non-verbal except for little annoyed huffs. perhaps has a kendall roy bathroom breakdown moment. maybe. probably just kicks something. you wouldn't know because she won't bring it up and you won't really notice a change but she's a little more quiet? that's kind of weird? but as soon as you’re alone she lights up, because she loves you and she loves your attention and she knows you love her and she's just being silly— but whatever, she's a sensitive girl! (she hates it so much she could throw up). perhaps you’ll leave the party and walk together to the car and she’ll say “oh fuck, i forgot my wallet in there” and “can you come with me?” and perhaps she’ll take your hand and pretend to be shocked when she finds said wallet safely in her jeans pocket but you’re already there! so you might as well stay for the rest of the song and yeah, she’s definitely going to kiss you where she knows whoever you were talking to will see. maybe. definitely.
abby is not afraid of confrontation, but she's highly annoyed by it. she’ll roll her eyes and it's never at you, you’ve done nothing wrong (and if she thinks about it, the person talking to you is also not doing anything wrong by simply making you laugh, but she's not thinking about it— she’s annoyed). a pout will form instantaneously and it should be cute, but have you seen her face? how does she make a pout look scary? i don't know but she does it. abby will pull you closer by wrapping an arm around your shoulders and raise her eyebrows when both you and the person talking to you give her a questioning look. “what?” she asks, and her head is turned your way but she's looking at them.
#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams headcanons#abby anderson x reader#abby x reader#abby anderson headcanons
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By the way, you can say you hate characters and STILL admit that they were abused or harassed. There's literally nothing wrong. Denying it or romanticizing it because of a strange kink of yours won't make your hate any less evident, trust me.
Rhaenyra was abused. She's continuously taken advantage of, and brushed away the moment she isn't needed anymore. And she experiences this first hand with her own father, who completely ruins motherhood for her when she grows up watching Aemma get impregnated and either miscarry or have the baby be stillborn or die in the cradle. If Viserys had been by her side as a supporter to her claim since the start, he wouldn't have gotten Aemma pregnant again and again in the pursuit of a male child. He wouldn't have married Alicent for the same reason. Even after, the only reason why he still stands by her side, and it's time the fandom accepts this, it's solely because of his grief and guilt, because Rhae is the only remnant of Aemma.
And there it starts. Firstly, groomed and left alone naked and alone by her uncle in a brothel. Secondly, slept with Criston Cole (although she did coerce him, that's still a literal TEENAGER) then she's married to a gay man and still approached super young by her new bodyguard and just one year later she's started giving birth to his children. (Side note: FUCK Rhaenyra x Harwin. FUCK with reverb. With hard K.)
And up to this point, most fan agree that she's had a shitty life, although I don't agree with some of her choices. (like her treatment of Criston Cole and the bastards, not because I'm some kind of bigot, but because passing bastards as trueborn in THAT precise world sets them up for failure, not being legally deserving of a thone DOES NOT mean me hating them. That's for another post.)
To top it all off, she meets her uncle again, and there starts the fanfic self insert. They have sex on a beach the day of Laena's funeral, the only one of the three wives he's ever been canonically loyal to (FUCK you writers) and fans think it's soulmates meeting again or sum shit. They subtly threaten Laenor to fake his death or actually die (that's what they were trying to do, cope harder) and marry mere days after the death of Laena.
Yes, all cute and romantic (for Dumbnyras twats) but literally, has it done anything good? For Rhaenyra or like, anyone else? It just brought Daemon closer to the line of succession. Literally. That's all the good it has done.
Fast forward to ep 10. How do I even start with this? Only Jace seems to be on Rhaenyra's side. It's clear he only obeys to Daemon out of fear and is scared to talk back to him. Meanwhile, he COMPLETELY disregards his wife's, and by his faction's loyalties, QUEEN's, orders, he ignores her wails of pain as she miscarries their daughter out of pure shock and grief for her father's death. He lashes out and chokes her on the same day and people still see him as the malewife to Rhaenyra's girlboss. They're always ready to do award-deserving mental gymnastic to justify this man.
"He was planning war because he wanted to distract himself!!!!" "He only choked Rhae because he was mad at Viserys, he'd never hurt her!!!!!!"
Fuck off. Coming from probably Rhaenyra's #1 hater. Fuck. Off. Don't say you care about her place in the view of men when you're ready to justify shit like this.
This is the same man who runs off and has an affair with a teenager, and then prefers going on and having a badass death instead of joining his wife and children who need him in King's Landing.
Do I like Rhaenyra? No. Do I think that, because of this, she's never been abused, or exploited in any way, in her life? ALSO no. My distaste for her character has NOTHING to do with Viserys, Criston, Daemon, Harwin or literally ANYONE ELSE in her life.
Alicent Hightower time, baby.
My mother, my aunt, my grandmother, my entire bloodline, my Roman Empire. And more. To anyone who thinks of her as nothing but a bitter/jealous girl, go read @feretrumdulcia 's post about this matter cuz there's literally no one I've seen that words it better. (And bub if you're reading, long live you and the way you think.)
https://www.tumblr.com/feretrumdulcia/720746371814195200/i-have-seen-quite-often-that-many-people-consider
Anyone who can read this and argue that Alicent is envious/jealous or bitter, honestly needs to take the heart shaped sunglasses off, get off tumblr and Ao3, learn what media literacy is and start learning how to possess a crumble of it. To us it makes sense to synpathize with both, because we've seen the big picture. To Alicent, Rhaenyra gave her virtue to the man that almost killed her brother, and chose to believe she did not out of trust and maybe nostalgia for her friendship and easier times, only to have her father be blamed and taken away from her as a result.
She has four kids in the span of, how much? Five, six years? Seven at best? Helaena and Aemond are NINE MONTHS APART. Viserys didn't even let her rest after she gave birth to her daughter. And I'm convinced 100% that he kept her as Idk some whore he didn't need to pay for because it's stated that he never wanted Aegon but the son he butchered Aemma for. Why keep on bedding her and forcing children on her when you'd never get what you want from her?
Throughout the series she's called bitter and downright a c*nt for this and that reason. She tries convincing Viserys that Rhae's children are CLEARLY bastards and she's setting herself and them up for failure by committing treason and putting them on the throne? Nah, power hungry, jealous, bitter. She marries Helaena to Aegon as a last resort because she's Valyrian and probably would've received proposals worse than the ones Rhaenyra made that would eventually convince Viserys to give her away? Hates her daughter, abuser, shitty mom. Rhae's sons slit her son's eye out instead of running when they had the chance and she rightfully lashes out? Nah, crazy ass, for the dungeons. She gives money and moon tea to her son's rape victim to ensure she gets a way out and isn't forced to have a baby she doesn't want? Bruh, rape apologist. She goes to Aegon and RIGHTFULLY disciplines him? Abuser. Forced to show her feet to a rancid filthy man to know where her son is? Upholds the patriarchy, hypocrite. She convinces Aegon to start fighting for her family because it's either them or the Blacks and he needs to start putting his life together and fight for them, so she crowns him and makes him King? Treason, deserves death, long live the brothel queens.
Somehow, it is ALWAYS HER FAULT. And those few that admit how wronged she was make fun of her.
CAN SHE FUCKING WIN?! Or y'all just hate her because she isn't Valyrian?
Btw almost all of these arguments are the same for Book!Alicent who I personally believe to be FAR MORE than just a bitter stepmom that hates her stepdaughter. She arguably has more reasons to start a coup against her in the books without that prophecy shit.
TLDR; It's OKAY to hate characters and admit they're abused and taken advantage of at the same time. You don't have a moral high-ground on no one because you hate or love a character instead of the other.
#rhaenyra targaryen#alicent hightower#anti daemyra#anti daemon targaryen#anti daemyra stans#team green#team black#anti viserys i targaryen#anti larys strong
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Ok Derek angst what about a non-bau gf getting jealous of his flirting with Garcia? Bc ngl if my bf did that with a girl who I hadn’t met I would be super upset and then May be his gf meets Garcia and realizes she’s a girls girl and super sweet? Idk u can take it any direction
ty for your request ♡ fem!reader
You don't want anything to do with Penelope Garcia. Honestly, you wouldn't ever meet her if you had your way, but you're level-headed enough to know that she's important to Derek. Integral to his life. It's a miracle you put off meeting her as long as you had.
At first, you genuinely thought she was Derek's mom. He always ended calls with, "Love you, mama." It was only a few weeks ago when he shook things up to say, "I love you, babygirl," did you look up from the book on your thigh to ask who it was.
"Penelope," he'd said, like he was confused. "Who'd you think?"
You shrugged noncommittal, earning yourself a hair pet and a kiss. You lay awake that night wondering if you got it wrong. You'd heard a hundred stories about her and felt reluctantly fond, but now? Your boyfriend calls other girls pet names, what do you do about that? What can you?
You ignored it. And now you have to meet her.
She doesn't seem as nefarious as you've imagined her, springing from her seat at the cafe table to hug you. "Hi! Oh my god hi! I can't believe I'm finally meeting you, I've never been this happy in my life! You're so pretty!"
You wince at her arms thrown over your shoulders but reciprocate. You aren't a total bitch.
"Thank you," you say. She smells like coffee creamer and hairspray. She pulls away to beam at you, her lips painted a shiny, pretty red. "It's nice to meet you. Derek has nothing but good things to say about you."
It sounds awfully formal, like you're opening a bank account with a teller who has a shared acquaintance. Derek gives you a look. You give him a look back, mutual confusion. She may be his best friend, but you don't know her (and what you do know you're jealous of, so).
Derek takes your hand despite your off behaviour to show you off with pride, his teeth peeking from behind his lips milky white. "My two favourite girls had to meet eventually."
"I thought I'd be more jealous about coming second," Penelope says, eyes twinkling, "but I've never seen Derek so happy." Her voice turns scratchy like stretched linen. "He deserves the best, you know? And it's clear you're it. He's smitten."
"Maybe don't give up all my secrets, sweetheart," he says.
Seeing them together chills your raging envy. There's a lot of love there, clearly, but the sexual tension you pictured is fictional. "Girl code, my love,'' Penelope says with a shrug. She winks at you.
Insecurity nags at your skin like condensation on a cold window, "You've known Derek for nearly six years? Have you guys always been this close?"
"Well, mister muscles here didn't bother remembering my name for the first couple of weeks that we worked together, so he deferred to pet names. And, you know, he's him," —Penelope gestures to him as if to say, behold, drawing a startled laugh from you— "and I'm me, so. I didn't want him to stop."
"Hey, now."
Penelope shakes her head at you. "He always does this."
"If 'this' is stopping you from talking bad on yourself, babygirl, then yeah. I'll always do it."
You feel clarity break, the sweet taste of relief and the muggier lick of shame. Derek and Penelope have a special friendship. That you knew before meeting her. She's made a huge, irreplaceable impact on his life, and Derek has clearly done the same. They aren't playing work husband and wife —there are reasons for their affections that go well beyond the surface flirtation.
"I get it. Nobody ever called me anything so nice as Derek calls me," you confide. Derek's eyebrows leap up. You've never told him this; you're telling Penelope as a sort of apology, though she can't know that. "I never got asked out growing up. When he asked me on a date I thought he was trying to win a bet."
Penelope's expression flickers with relief. There and gone, quickly replaced by sympathy. "Are you kidding? You're so pretty, Derek's lucky he got to you before someone else did."
Derek kisses your cheek. His lips linger against the apple of it, your joined hands pulled instinctively to his firm torso. You might be imagining it, but Derek seems to know everything, so he probably knows the hill you've just climbed in your head. "Damn straight I'm lucky. I'm surrounded by beautiful, genius women. This is paradise for the modern man."
You flush at his touch and praise. Penelope makes a pleased squeak. "Ooh, you guys are cute! You need to let me take a photo. This'll make a great printout for your wedding."
"Penelope."
#derek morgan#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan x you#derek morgan x y/n#derek morgan x fem!reader#derek morgan imagine#derek morgan fluff#derek morgan fanfic#derek morgan oneshot#derek morgan scenario#derek morgan drabble#derek morgan fic#derek morgan fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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A chubby reader who's super self conscious of her belly and bust? Like she's strong and stuff, comes with the higher weight, but just....
Cant really wear anything unless it's sweats and a sweater, or a t-shirt. Almost never goes out.
And one day Bucky comes to the compound. Reader immediately gets a crush, and has major anxiety over it, like "leaving the room when he comes near" anxiety. Bucky thinks it's his fault, that he's done something wrong and talks to you about it.
He decides to talk to you about it, crying ensues because insecurities, and then the fluff.
Sorry this ask is so long, I'm kinda scrambled XP
hi, lovely! 💫
first of all, don't apologize for bringing this beautiful request into my world! i was beyond excited to have the chance to bring this idea to life, and i hope the direction i took with it does justice to what you had in mind!
second of all, i am so sorry this took me so long to put out, this request is so lovely and i really wanted to make it the best i could.
i hope you enjoy!
matches
pairing: bucky barnes x midsize!reader
word count: 3974
warnings: insecurities and self consciousness, mild body image issues, brief self depreciating thoughts, angst, mutual pining, fluff, swearing, allusions to mature themes, let me know if i missed anything!
please do not read this if you're not comfortable with any of the above topics. while they are not heavily focused on, they are the main theme of this fic
a/n: big thanks to @buckylattes for reading this and catching some of the dumb ass mistakes i made lmao
《《《《 ♡ 》》》》
Being part of the Rescue and Reconnaissance division of Stark Industries wasn't the most glamorous job, but you loved it. You got to work nearly hand in hand with field agents every day, formulating plans for raids, rescues, infiltrations, or general takedown missions to make sure all those involved worked as safely and efficiently as possible.
You were the one they turned to when a new plan was needed; when they were at risk. There were a few agents who refused to listen to anyone other than you when it came to these times - specifically asking for you to help them through.
Agent Barnes was one of these people, and though you could never voice it, he was your favourite to deal with. He was always kind and courteous, understanding in the fact that despite not being in the same rankings as him, you damn well knew what you were doing. And, well, it didn't hurt that he always found a moment to be a charming little flirt.
You have no idea why he had such faith in you. Maybe it was because you always took what he suggested into consideration when calculating next steps. Maybe it was because your ideas were as crazy as his sometimes. Maybe it was simply because he liked the sound of your voice.
You never knew.
You never actually met him.
All your dealings with field agents were done from the safety of your control room. You never minded it, though. It was nice, in a way. You absolutely loved doing what you do, but you would never be able to handle being around field agents all the time. Not when they look the way they do, and you…. well, you're you.
Your thighs touch when you walk, your belly shakes when you laugh, your arms jiggle when you move. You have to painstakingly pick out the right kinds of shirts, otherwise your chest will make it seem like you're three times as big as you really are.
You were the chubby girl who always hid in the shadows, too afraid to let the world see how bright you truly shine - you were a flame ready to ignite, but no one around you ever offered you a match.
You were used to it. You made peace with it a long time ago, finding solace in your own company instead of relying on other people to enjoy your time with. It still bothered you from time to time, and you let yourself have days where you wallowed in it, wishing things were different, wishing you looked different. Though, for the most part, it stopped bothering you so much the older you got.
Until the day you finally met Bucky.
It was a strange day, being sent to the compound. You've never been sent anywhere before, always planted in your seat while talking to field agents across the world. Yet here you were, being requested by Tony Stark himself.
You must have spent hours trying to find the right outfit. One that showed off your curves without accentuating the extra pudge around your middle. One that complimented your chest without highlighting the size. One that showed off your ass without making it look massive. One that carefully hid your arms. One that you felt comfortable in.
It felt like your heart was in your throat the whole time. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a full on frenzy, and you had to take deep breaths every few seconds to stay calm; and to not throw up.
You barely heard it when Tony said he wanted you working under him. You could hardly process it when he said he created a job just for you. You didn't quite understand it when he told you there was space for you at the compound, and he wanted you here full time.
All you could do was dumbly nod your head, trying to focus on what he was saying instead of the fact that Bucky Barnes was just outside the conference room.
By the time the meeting was over, you felt lightheaded. You clutched the contract you were given against your chest and took a final deep breath before leaving the room, hoping to get by unnoticed. It's not like he even knew who you really were, right?
A gentle calling of your name told you that you were very, very wrong.
Your feet became rooted in place as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing all you could on calming your nerves before turning around. And jesus christ, nothing could have prepared you for how beautiful this man actually was in person.
"Hi," you breathed out, a tiny shy smile gracing your lips.
"Hi," he said, unintentionally mimicking you.
His eyes travelled over your face before taking their time roaming your body; you shifted uncomfortably and clutched the contract a little tighter as he stayed fixed on you. A smirk graced his lips, but it was gone before you could really focus on it.
"It's, uh-... it's nice to finally meet you, Agent Barnes," you muttered sheepishly, hesitantly offering him your hand.
"You can call me Bucky," he said, smiling warmly as he took your hand in his, sending fire throughout your whole body. "I'd like to say thank you for saving my ass as often as you do, but thank you doesn't seem like enough."
You chuckled, feeling your face flush under his gaze. "'Thank you' suffices just fine, Bucky. I've only been doing my job."
"Speaking of," he started, tilting his head a little as he eyed the contract you held. "You gonna take it?" he asked curiously, his eyes snapping back to yours.
"What?" you asked, caught off guard by his question.
"The job," he said, gesturing between the contract in your hands and the conference room you just occupied. "You gonna say yes?"
"How do you know about that?" you asked curiously.
"I know things," he said passively, shrugging his shoulders. "How 'bout I show you around? You can see the place before you decide anything."
You wanted to say no. You wanted to run away and retreat into yourself once more. Though something about the way he was looking at you made it hard to do so.
So, you agreed.
And that's how everything started.
You took the job, moving into the compound a few days after that. You quickly made friends with the girls, and they became your support group; they would help you when it came to shopping for clothes or finding the right outfit for events. They offered to go for walks with you or do yoga - anything you felt like doing, really. You still felt inferior to them from time to time, but not because they made you feel that way; no one at the compound did.
Only yourself.
When it came to the boys, it was more or less the same thing. You felt comfortable around them, and you never minded close contact or them seeing you in tighter fitting clothes.
Everyone was family, and it never felt awkward or uncomfortable around them.
Except for when it came to Bucky.
You still grew closer to him over the months of you living at the compound so far, but it hasn't been easy. It was a constant challenge, and it grew harder for you day after day.
When it came to you working alongside him on his missions, everything was great. Nothing with him changed, aside from him throwing out a few more flirty comments. And, since you still had the safety net of being behind comms, you threw some right back at him.
Once the missions were over, though, it was hard to be around him. You wanted to be around him, but it was nearly impossible. Your feelings for him grew, and the stronger your feelings were, the more distant you became.
You were careful to only wear sweaters or loose tees paired with sweatpants around him, making sure he would never catch sight of the extra weight you carried around. You quit eating around him; it's not like you had bad eating habits, but you couldn't shake the panic that he would somehow be disgusted, that he would think the reason you're so chubby was because of your diet. You stopped sitting near him during movie nights, and you never hugged him. No matter how much you itched to wrap your arms around him when he came home safe from missions, you couldn't risk him feeling the rolls your body carried, or how soft and pudgy you were.
It was driving Bucky crazy.
From the minute he finally set his eyes on you, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was beyond thrilled when you agreed to Stark's offer, and he couldn't wait to take the opportunity to get to know you - which was a massive step for him. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he did something to upset you.
He grew more confused every day. When it came to conversing over the comms during missions, you two were like a well oiled machine; giggles and flirting and jokes of previous missions. No one would ever know something was amiss.
Yet when everyone would return home, it was like a switch was flipped. You greeted everyone with hugs and smiles and affection, and Bucky always waited patiently for his turn: but it never came. Instead, you turned to him with an awkward smile and shining eyes and gave him the traditional "welcome home, soldier" that, despite everything, always pulled a smile from his lips.
He racked his brain every night trying to figure out if he did something, if he said something, but he could never come up with anything. He could never find a reason for the way you would some days leave the room as soon as he entered, for why you always hid away from him when he would catch you off guard in workout clothes or formal attire. He could never come up with an explanation and it was eating him alive.
The final straw came for him on the night of Pepper’s birthday party.
He didn’t want to go, he never wanted to go to these things, but ever since you came around he found himself more willing to at least make an appearance; if only to see you. However, he wasn’t even positive if you were going to show up this time, given the way you’ve been so distant lately - and that made him not want to go at all. So he was biding his time, sitting in the kitchen and emptying a bottle of whiskey, trying to not make it obvious that he was waiting to see if you’d wander out of your room before he slipped away to the party.
You stood in front of your mirror for what felt like hours, never before feeling more diffident as you assessed your reflection. You’ve been to some of Tony’s parties before, but this was for Pepper - it was the most grandiose one you’ve attended to date. You weren’t left much choice but to dress your fanciest, and you felt so unfamiliar with your own body as your hands trailed down the fabric of your dress. It was form fitting, hugging every curve you had and accentuating your figure in a way you weren’t used to seeing. The straps were small and the cut was low, it travelled midcalf and had a small slit up the side, showing way more of your leg than you wanted. You had a burning desire to change, but Nat insisted you looked incredible, and Wanda already applied a touch of makeup to match the dress - not to mention you were already running late as it was.
With one last heavy sigh, you steeled yourself before slipping on your heels and marching out of your room. You thought of anything and everything you could as you marched down the hall, doing your best to pay no mind to the way you felt the fabric clinging to your body with every move you made. God, you really should have put on shapewear.
Bucky heard you before he saw you, your footfalls echoing through the floor in the same pattern he came to memorize in the months you’ve been here. He took a deep breath, prepared for the fact that you would most likely brush him off once more. He was not prepared, though, for the sight of you as you rounded the corner.
You were not prepared to see him sitting there, clad in a pressed suit, or for him to quite literally choke on the drink he was nursing as he took in your presence.
“Jesus, Bucky. Are you alright?” you inquired, conflicted between staying where you stood and approaching him.
A dismissive wave of his hand had you staying in place, your arms wrapping around your middle as you began to feel exposed to him.
“I’m fine, I’m good,” he coughed out, refilling his glass as if nothing happened.
You stood there quietly, completely unsure of what to do next. The silence was becoming louder and louder but you didn’t want to draw his attention to you. Not when you were looking like this. Not when he’d be able to see every curve and divot of your body, the protrusion of your stomach, the ample raise of your chest. You were really starting to regret not changing.
“Are you gonna stand there and stare all night or head to the party?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the glass before him. His tone was playful, but his voice had a rasp to it that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Oh, uh - sorry,” you muttered, clearing your throat as you slowly advanced in his direction. “Are, um-… are you gonna join the party?”
He huffed a small laugh, his eyes finally raising to meet yours only to find that you were looking almost everywhere but at him, effectively wiping the small smile from his face.
“I’m not so sure,” he said lowly, downing the contents of his glass as he kept his eyes on you.
You hummed, looking down at your hands before chancing a glance at him; his gaze on you so intense that you immediately looked away again.
“Well, I- I hope to see you there,” you said sincerely, wringing your fingers together. “You look really nice, Buck” you added quietly, looking up at him just long enough to flash him a warm smile before continuing through the kitchen.
“Did I do something wrong?” he called after you, the hurt in his voice impossible to miss.
“What?” you asked in confusion, turning to glance in his direction.
“Did I do something wrong?” he repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Because ever since you moved in here, it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.”
You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that left you, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true.”
“No?” he asked, his tone taking on a new edge. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you can’t even fucking look at me right now. You practically run from me when I enter the same room, you do everything you can to avoid me, and let’s not forget the fact that I’m the only one around here who you don’t hug after getting back from missions.”
“Bucky-” you tried to explain, but the lump forming in your throat stopped you short.
“I just wanna know what I did,” he carried on, voice softer this time. “I don’t know if you’re angry with me or- or if you’re scared of me-”
“I am not scared of you,” you interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. “Please don’t think that.”
“What else am I supposed to think?” he asked quietly. “Everything is fine when I’m out on the field, we- I get along with you better than anyone. But then I come home, and it’s not the same.”
“It’s not-... it’s not like that, Bucky,” you whispered sadly, unintentionally looking away from him again.
“Yeah, if you say so,” he said curtly, sighing in defeat as he filled his glass again. “Just enjoy the party, okay?”
“You’re not coming?” you asked, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice.
“Well, you’re just gonna avoid me anyway. Might as well make it easier for you and stay here,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the twirling glass in his hands.
“I don’t want you to think like that,” you admitted softly. “I- I don’t mean to do the things I do.”
“Then why do they happen?” he inquired, his eyes meeting yours and displaying a painful mix of hurt and confusion.
“Because,” you started, feeling your bottom lip quiver. “I mean, look at me, Buck,” you finished, as if that was explanation enough.
“Believe me, I’m looking,” he said gently. “And you look-... well, I wanna say you look beautiful, but that implies you don’t always look beautiful, so, I- I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” he added, his voice so low he may as well have been speaking to himself, but you heard every word he muttered.
“...What?” you breathed out, staring over at him.
“What?” he questioned, glancing up to catch your eye.
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat but it just kept on growing, forcing you to choke on your words.
“Hey, wait, don’t-... okay, now I really said something wrong, right?” he asked quickly, starting to panic as he watched your eyes fill with tears.
Shaking your head vehemently, you delicately wiped your eyes, hoping not to smudge the work that Wanda did for you. “No, you- I just didn’t expect you to say that. I-... I'm not used to hearing that."
"You're not?" he asked, genuinely surprised.
You almost laughed, and you probably would have if it wasn't such an embarrassing thing to admit. "No. I'm… guys don't really call girls who look like me beautiful."
He fell silent for a minute, eyeing you carefully before shifting in his seat, resting his arms on the table.
"You know, I've been alive for a pretty long time now," he said conversationally, as if you weren't on the cusp of a breakdown. "And I've also been quite literally around the whole world in that time. Some of it I remember, some of it… not so much. But even so, do you know what the one thing I can say with complete certainty is?"
You waited for him to go on for a moment before realizing he was actually looking for an answer. "No, what?" you manage to croak out.
He smiled softly, relaxing in his seat again. "I have, quite literally, never met anyone as beautiful as you. And I mean in both appearance and personality."
"But I- I'm not… I don't have the kind of body like the other women around here," you murmured, casting your gaze downwards as if you were ashamed of your words.
"So?" he asked incredulously. "Do you seriously think that you're automatically not beautiful just because you aren't the same size as them?"
"No, it- you can't- I'm not-" you tried to argue, but all you could get out were a few utterances before you had to choke back a sob, completely lost on how to express yourself.
"Is this why you've been avoiding me? Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?" he asked anxiously, fighting the urge to approach you.
"Yes. I mean no, I-" you cut yourself off with a sigh, taking a moment to consider your answer. "I've been too embarrassed to be around you. I-... I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and that I'd lose you."
"Repulsed by you? A woman who puts fucking goddesses to shame?" he asked in disbelief. "Did me choking on my drink earlier not prove how taken by you I am?"
"Is that what that was?" you wondered, letting out a watery laugh.
"Yeah, that's what that was," he confirmed with a soft chuckle. "A guy does a real life spit take when he sees the girl of his dreams looking like the focus of a goddamn renaissance painting and she doesn't even realize it," he mumbled in exasperation, yet his eyes carried a playful sparkle.
"The girl of your dreams?" you repeated in shock, your voice a nervous whisper.
"Was that too cliché?" he questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Maybe a little," you said playfully, sniffling quietly.
"I know how it feels, you know," he said softly. "To feel uncomfortable in your own body. But if you'd let me, I'll spend every day proving to you that I see you as nothing short of perfect."
You could only nod, giving him a weak smile as you fought back a wave of tears. "Yeah, I-... I could do that, too," you agreed quietly.
He grinned softly, greedily taking in your appearance once more before tearing his eyes away. "Come on," he urged, downing his drink before standing up. "You owe me about seven dances."
"Where does that number come from?" you asked with a laugh, watching as he approached you.
"For how many parties you snubbed me at so far," he replied casually, stopping as he stood before you.
"I never snubbed you," you grumbled, peering up at him.
"Sure you didn't," he teased, carefully wiping the tears from your face.
"Do I still look okay?" you asked nervously, fidgiting slightly under his touch.
"Gorgeous as ever," he replied sincerely.
You couldn't help but grin, laughing a little anxiously. "Okay. Come on, or else we won't have enough time for all those dances."
Bucky laughed happily, taking your hand and rushing to join the party, having you giggling in his wake as you did your best to keep up.
You let him whisk you away for the rest of the night, leading you through all the dances you owed him; and a few more, for good measure, as Bucky put it.
He stayed true to his word, and there wasn't a second that you spent with him where you didn't feel like the most ravishing woman to walk the earth.
Especially when he took his precious time in the dark of the night to memorize and worship every inch of your body over and over again.
So as you sat here now, watching from across the room as he danced with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel foolish. Foolish for letting your thoughts take away the extra time you could have had with him, foolish for ever thinking this incredible man would ever judge you for something so trivial. Foolish, foolish, foolish.
"Penny for your thoughts?" you heard from beside you, ripping you from your reverie.
You turned your head, grinning as you saw the very man himself had taken up the seat to your left. "What, get tired of dancing already, old man?"
He gasped, feigning offense as he took in your words. "I'd watch who you're calling old, sweetheart," he warned playfully.
"I'd watch who you're calling sweetheart. I happen to be a married woman now, you know," you replied jovially.
"Married, huh? Should've known I didn't stand a chance," he lamented, shaking his head. "How about a pity dance?" he suggested with a grin, holding his hand out to you.
You giggled softly, taking his hand with a grin of your own. "Lead the way, Mr. Barnes."
"Anything for you, Mrs. Barnes," he replied with a wink, leading you to the dance floor.
And just like he did three years ago, he whisked you away and led you through a whole seven dances; and a few more, for good measure.
You were a flame, finally ignited, and Bucky was your match.
#thank you for the ask!#asks#request#fic request#requests open#taking requests#bucky x you#bucky barnes drabble#bucky fic#bucky fluff#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader#bucky x reader fluff#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#james bucky buchanan barnes#winter soldier#the winter soldier#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes au#bucky and reader#bucky angst#bucky fandom#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you
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Soft Life!
Warning: none
Pairing: Gojo x black reader
A/n: this was highly influenced by the influx of soft black girl aesthetic. There’s a little rant at the end, don’t mind me.
Some may label you a gold digger, claiming you're with him for his money, and others may claim you've played life smartly, but one thing is certain: being Gojo's wife was the easiest thing you've ever done; this man asks for and gives you anything you want.
You met Gojo as a college student working a part-time job. Going to school and juggling job was challenging, but you made do with what you had. He liked your dedication and hard work, and he found your independence attractive. But if you were to stay with him, no woman would spend her life working when he could easily provide and care for her.
Gojo is a man that doesn’t ask you for a thing he’s just a giver. He makes you feel secure in every aspect of life, but if you decide you want to do something on your own, he’s ten toes behind you.
In your free time you love staying home and looking online for new treats to make your husband when he’s away at work. You’ve had so much free time you started making videos for your social media accounts and they blew up overnight.
People love watching your get ready with me’s, you go shopping, cooking, working out, couple's trips, makeup routines, anything you post they love.
Besides your social media activities not having to work every day really opened your schedule, instead of being too tired to do anything after coming home you have time for all your favorite hobbies plus more. Reading, yoga, gardening, painting, knitting, hell sometimes all you do is lounge around and take bubble baths. (Gojo loves coming home to a happy and well rested wife.)
But with the positive comes the negative, the ones who don’t like you or is very jealous of your lifestyle love to call you a pretty dumb housewife who has nothing better to do. Someone who’s thrown her life and career away to cater to a man but in reality, that same man caters to you. Do people think you’d take care of a man who does nothing for you?
In your opinion you love who you’ve become as a woman and a wife, you’ve never been happier even Gojo sees it.
©heejayy 2024 — any reposts or translations of my works are strictly prohibited unless granted permission.
Side note this is a little bit on the serious side: Although this is for my black girlies, all the girlies can read 🤷🏾♀️
I'm not sure if it's just me, but I've grown tired of the 'Strong Black Woman' trend. Now, don't get me wrong, I like strong independent women because that's how I was taught, but being perceived as overly independent makes black women appear as if we don't need anyone and can do everything on our own, which is how people treat us. Like babes…we are human with emotions. They will go help and praise a non-woman of color before helping us. It's quite harmful; they already treat and compare us to men. And when a black girl tries to break out from that image, she is dragged back down, which is disgusting.
You don’t have to be rich to be in your soft era! Put yourself first, be kind to yourself, don’t let anyone tear you down, you are worthy of love, the things you can’t control don’t let it stress you out, pray and read the Bible more (if you’re religious), let go of negative people, ITS OKAY TO ACCEPT HELP, it’s okay to be quiet or confident which ever one fits you, prioritize peace, just be you don’t change or try to fit in.
#ask heejayy#x black reader#jjk#jjk x black reader#gojo x black reader#gojo x fem!reader#jjk x black!fem reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#heejayys opinions#gojo fluff#jjk fluff
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Dynamight's Omega
Katsuki's Omega is usually known for being really cheery and polite to anyone she meets (to the point that they question how she could even put up with the grump himself). One day, everyone at the agency learns that the girl herself has quite the temper and could get very territorial over her Alpha.
Author's note: I've never written a/b/o so go easy on me. I've had this idea for a while and finally had the time to put it into words. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to see more of these two :) (also: this was edited on my phone, so if anything looks wonky or like it's meant to be cut out, it probably is. I'll fix it later lmao)
Alpha!Katsuki who's mated to the sweetest little omega. Most people question how someone so soft spoken could be compatible with the blonde. Everyone knows Bakugou Katsuki comes with a very harsh demeanor. Pair that with his large frame and he is quite the force to be reckoned with. He's a far cry from being anything like his best friend Alpha!Eijirou, who often forces Bakugou to wear scent blockers at their shared agency so he doesn't stink out the whole place and scare the omegas that work for them.
The first time Bakugou’s omega ever visited the office, she was bringing him the lunch he forgot at home. She was all nervous smiles in a short sundress as she walked up to the front desk and asked to be pointed in the direction of the two hero's offices. No one working at the agency had thought anything of it at first. Everyone knew the rumors that Red Riot had a partner, and the large mating mark on her neck had them assuming she was here go see him. It wasn't until the two pro heros themselves stepped out of a meeting room and into her path that the employees realized they were very, very wrong.
The Omega's eyes lit up upon seeing the two alphas, her scent just a bit more potent now with excitement. “Hey, Kiri!” She greets the redhead with a wave before simply stepping past him to get to Bakugou.
“Omega,” The blonde’s deep voice greets, vermillion eyes watching the girl with only the kind of intensity Bakugou Katsuki could emit.
The girl grins, meeting his gaze and dipping her head for a moment in greeting. “Hi, alpha.” She doesn't shy away from his gaze as he continues to stare her down. There's a low rumble in his chest as he takes in her appearance, chest swelling with pride at his girl coming to visit him with the mark he left on display for everyone to see. She holds up the bento in her hands after a few moments, blushing some now as she becomes aware of all the eyes on them. “You forgot your lunch,” she says in way of explanation, handing it over to him. Katsuki doesn't miss the way she starts bouncing nervously, thanking her with a kiss to her temple and guiding her to his office with a hand on her lower back, her soft voice carrying down the hallway as she fills him in on her day so far.
No one says anything for a beat before excited chatter starts up and Kiri finds himself chuckling, simply announcing to come find him should anyone need anything before stalking off to his own office.
Dynamight usually kept his personal life private, so it came as a pleasant surprise when the girl kept showing up after that first visit. They learned that after she mated to Bakugou, he urged her to quit her part time job and focus on school. Her goal was to one day be a successful writer and she was always sharing her ideas with her friends. Sometimes she would bring in cookies she had made for everyone, and she was often seen stopping by to drop off coffee for the two pro heroes. Occasionally, on those days, Bakugou would be seen walking her out after a spell, her face flushed and his hair evidently out of place. More often than not, however, she brings her laptop and headphones and settles herself in Katsuki’s office to get work done. He's even come back from patrol to her napping on his couch unannounced. The next day, Pro Hero Dynamight was seen walking into his agency with blankets and a pillow in tow to make the space more comfortable for his girl. He made sure to scent everything thoroughly and reminded her constantly that his office was always open should she need it, no matter the circumstances. Days like that presented a new side to the grumpy alpha. Beneath the hard exterior and seemingly permanent scowl he was actually a lovesick fool. He looked at his girl like she put the stars in the sky herself and he was willing to do anything and everything for her, consequences be damned.
One day the omega trudges into the office, dressed down in sweats for the day. The second she walks through the door, it's evident she’s in a horrible mood. The last week had been really stressful and it was showing in the way her hair was messily thrown up and her eyes were bloodshot from crying. She stalked right past everyone in the office, having a one track mind towards the comfort of her alpha. She knew Katsuki didn't have patrol and would just be hanging around the office for the day. She figured they could order food and she could just spend a little time with him while he worked.
What she did not expect, however, was to find Katsuki, /her/ alpha, walking out of a meeting room with another woman who was laughing at something he said, her hand reaching up towards his arm. Dynamight’s omega was moving before she could think, her instincts completely kicking in as she lost rational thought. Before she realized it was happening, she had the poor woman pinned to the closest wall with an arm, lips pulled back in a snarl to show her omegan fangs.
There's a collective gasp that runs throughout the office, everyone shocked to see this kind of behavior from her. Not once had she ever indicated that she could be anything but polite. The commotion even had Red Riot peeking out of his office. Bakugou finds himself bristling at the smell of the other alpha, resisting the urge to growl at anyone who was making a spectacle out of the situation. He pushes those feelings away, taking a deep breath before calling her name. He sucks his teeth when he doesn't receive a response from her, realizing she has lost herself to her more primal instincts.
“Omega.” His voice is a bit deeper than usual with the command, fully stepping into his role as her alpha, his skin itching with the need to get her to the safety of his office. The word reaches her ears and it takes a few painstakingly slow seconds before she's submitting, fighting the urge to let out a whimper when she comes to and finally steps away. Despite being an Omega, what most people don't know, is that his girl has quite the stubborn personality and she's never been one to back down easily. It's one of the first things that had him chasing after her after they first met. He wanted an equal in his relationship - someone who was going to bite back and level with him when needed.
“If I ever catch you so much as look at-”
“Omega.” He doesn't raise his voice but ever so slightly, the deep tone telling her it's time to back off for good. Katsuki is close to snatching her up himself to carry her away before she finally shoves last his large frame and stomps into his office. He waits to hear the click of door closing before he's rushing out apologies to the poor woman and reassuring her nothing like that will ever happen again.
When he's done walking the woman out, he heads back to his office to find his sweet little omega sitting down on his couch with blankets wrapped snuggly around her shoulders and big fat tears streaming down her face. She blabbers out apologies the second she sees him, pouting. His expression softens as he takes in the sight of her and it's in that moment that he decides they can talk about her little moment another day. He knew she was having a bad week, but he had no clue it would ever turn into something like this, and his alpha is all but screaming at him to care for his mate. In a matter of seconds, he has her pulled into his lap, holding her securely to his rumbling chest in an effort to soothe her.
It was that day that everyone in the agency learned just why the Omega was with someone as harsh as Dynamight. It was clear that despite her usually bubbly personality, the girl had the kind of fire in her veins that could only rival that of her own alpha.
#bakugou fluff#bakugou katsuki#kirishima eijirou#mha smut#alpha bakugou#alpha bakugo katsuki#alpha katsuki#a/b/o verse#bakugou x reader#mha fanfiction#mha fluff#alpha kirishima#alpha bakugou katsuki
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