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praeluxius · 2 months

Text

Impulse

male reader x hanni & danielle of newjeans

5.8k words - it's quick and it's messy masterlist here

thank you @gangplanksorenji for inspiring

Another fucking day. Another fucking problem.

You have half a mind to throw the phone onto the floor, and it's all thanks to her. She refuses to make this easy for either of you—fighting tooth and nail for everything she can get. You're just happy there’s no kids involved.

The two of you never got that far.

Even getting married is a regret. You punch the toilet stall door in frustration before dropping your phone back into your pocket.

And to make things worse, admin just can't get your schedule right. So you have another hour to burn away and waste before the next set of students, who want to be there just as little as you do, spill through the door to your lecture hall.

You make your way back inside. Maybe you can waste some time grading papers.

"Girls? What are you two still doing here?" you ask as you close the lecture hall door behind you.

Danielle is the first to answer. "Well, we noticed you left your stuff behind, so we wanted to keep an eye on it for you."

"And well, you left in such a hurry, we want to make sure you are okay." Hanni follows up, approaching you with a concerned look on her face.

"Well thank you girls, but that's not necessary. Don't you have classes to get to?" You dismiss them. Even if it is a lie, you're not going to bore them with your home troubles. How do you tell anyone, more so your students, that your wife is busy banging her personal trainer?

"No sir, we're free for a whole hour now. And I don't know about Dani here, but I'm hoping to use this time for some hard studying."

Hanni's leaning on your desk as you're scooping up some papers into your bag. She has one hand placed on the back of the other, planted on the edge of the desk, and she's leaning forward. Add to that how she has conveniently not managed to fasten the top three buttons of her blouse and you have quite the sight. Dani is a couple of steps behind her, slowly making her way forward. You can see that she, too, is in no great rush to fully button her shirt.

"Well, I'm sure you girls know where the library is, now if you'll excuse me—"

"I really hope you don't mind, professor, but…" She shoots a quick glance back at Dani's over her shoulder and winks at her. "My best friend over here has some trouble understanding the material. Perhaps you wouldn't mind giving her a hand?"

"Yeah, sir, I really need it." Dani is pressing herself against Hanni, chest to back, and resting her chin on her shoulder. "Your material is really... hard." Hanni giggles a little at her friend and sways her ass back into her best friend, encouraging a giggle of her own. Both girls seem to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

These two sweet things are painted in mischief, with their hands around each other, framing themselves as the duo that could keep you happy and fulfilled with round after round of stress-relieving sex.

Stop it. You can't do this.

"Ladies..." You begin to protest.

"We would be ever so grateful to you, sir. Isn't that right, Hanni?"

"So grateful."

"And believe me, we are very willing to learn." Dani slips her hand down Hanni's front, tucking it into the opening of her shirt. It's brazen and shameless. You shouldn't be watching, but you can't seem to pry your eyes away from what's happening. What's more, you can feel your cock swelling up at the sight of it.

"Ladies. I'm a professional and I would never—"

"Then why are you always staring, professor?" Hanni confronts you. "When I sit at the front and I catch you looking at my legs. And then I open them a little, and pull up my skirt for you..."

"You like her legs, professor?" Dani continues the barrage, pulling up the hem of Hanni's skirt. "You like to stare at them?"

"He always stares at them, and he thinks I don't notice." Hanni giggles softly.

"And I bet he goes home and thinks about your legs when he—"

"Girls. Enough." Your face is burning up and you know they see it.

"It's okay professor, I like it. I'm sure we have had some very similar thoughts about each other, actually." Hanni lowers her tone and you shift in place, tugging at your collar. When did it get this hot in here? She keeps talking, telling you: "When I go home and I lie on my bed, I lift up my skirt and spread my legs. I just wish you were over me. Pinning me down and—"

"Stop."

Dani can't hold back her gentle laughter. "What's wrong sir? You seem so stressed recently. I think this is—we are—exactly what you need." There's a soft whine in her voice, one that's cooing at you—enticing you.

Hanni starts to move and Dani slips away from her, freeing her from her grasp. Hanni puts one knee up on the desk between you, and then the other, and perches herself on it. It's enthralling for a multitude of reasons, but if anything, it's the sweet and eager smile on her face that's most alluring. Her soft voice gets your heart beating hard, "I don't want my favourite teacher to be stressed. You can do anything you like to me. Anything you want." You glance down at her and it might be those big brown eyes, or how she tucks a lock of her long hair behind her ear waiting for your answer, but you start to concede to the reality. Then your eyes fall. Further and further to that gap between her half-open blouse. She says please and her words take on a life of their own, fluttering right to your stiffening cock.

You want this. Maybe even need this.

"Miss Pham..." You trail off in failed protest. Dani rounds the table until she is stood by your side, she places a hand on your shoulder, which her face barely reaches. Her other hand brushes over your waist then to your belt and she wraps a finger around it, gently tugging you closer and saying, "so sir, how can we help relieve your stress?"

Fuck. Fuck it.

You reach out for Hanni, placing your hand on her cheek and she melts into your touch. You pull her to you and it's almost magnetic as you feel her lips pressing into yours and her tits pressing into your chest.

Kiss her. Kiss her slowly, and while it might look like she's innocent, deep down her lips are beginning to soak with desire, and you're kissing that into her. Her hands start to grab at your blazer, pulling herself closer to you and she lets out a moan into your mouth, and you return by brushing your tongue onto hers.

You run hands down her sides. She's so feminine and her body is trim and fit, small but plump in the right places. Further you touch until you’re going over her hips and to her ass. You tease her with a light rub before you grip firm at her soft, bare skin. She breaks the kiss as you do that, her breathy whine lets you know you're doing something right.

"Professor..." Hanni whispers to you, with lust on her tongue and in her eyes.

"Yes professor," Dani encourages. "She likes that. I like that."

Dani shifts behind you, pressing her lithe frame against you and wrapping her arms around your torso. She brings her hands down to your belt, clumsily trying to unbuckle it. Hanni slips her hands over your shoulders and tugs at your blazer. You shrug it off and then you slip off your tie, holding it in your hand.

Hanni whispers, "I have been naughty professor, staring at your cock during class." She brings her hand behind her ass, burying her fingers into the flesh. "Would you like to spank me?"

You bring your tie up to Hanni's neck, wrapping it around once, and then holding both ends in one hand. You twist the fabric around your fist, tightening the grip until you have full control of her. You pull your hand out the side, and Hanni fumbles and slides on the desk, knocking papers onto the floor. You have her where you want her—on all fours, side on, with her ass in the air.

You flip up her skirt, revealing her plump ass. The fabric of her panties pulled taut between her full cheeks. The skin begs to be marked.

Dani begs you to mark it. "Spank her sir," Dani whispers. "She's so bad. She needs a good spanking."

"Yes. I deserve it. Spank me, sir." Hanni hangs her head, submitting herself.

You pull tight on the tie, gently choking her, and then raise your other hand over her ass. You bring it down hard with a loud smack and Hanni hisses in pain. You only care to watch how the supple flesh gives way to your strike.

"Sir, I... I just—" Hanni loses her voice as you bring your hand down hard onto her again, giving her what Dani so eagerly begs for you to do. You lift your hand and deliver three hard, spanking strikes. Each time your hand comes crashing down on her ass, you pull on the tie and her body reels forward, and her hands scramble for purchase.

"Sir. I'm sorry. I was being naughty. Please, hurt me." With each hit, she apologises. But it's Dani's whimpered gasps that leave a warm stirring in your cock. This is getting her off as much as you. With all that bottled frustration inside you, the way Hanni writhes, and the eagerness from Dani, you really feel some kind of relief here. You give Hanni one more heavy spank, forcing an erotic whine of satisfaction from her that sends a twinge into your groin.

For all her fumbling, Dani finally springs your cock free from your underwear. She stays behind you, reaching her hands around to grab it. Her nimble fingers wrap around your stiff cock. As Hanni struggles to recover, you loosen the tie and Dani tries pumping up and down your shaft, stuttering in her awkward grip, and though somewhat sloppy, her youthful eagerness works its charm. And when Dani's delicate and feminine laughter tickles your ear with how much she's enjoying your cock, well, how can you complain?

You gently back away from the desk, pulling slightly at the tie like a leash and encouraging Hanni to follow you. You tug her upwards until she is back on her feet and then you lean into her ear, whispering, "on your knees."

She breaks out a soft whine, like a scolded dog being denied a toy. She shoots you back that puppy-dog expression, "but sir..." and you pull gently again on the tie. She drops to her knees, between you and the desk. "Well done. Good girls deserve rewards." You praise Hanni's obedience, but that grin on her lips means there is something deceitful buried in that submission.

Dani realises what's about to happen, stops rubbing your cock and steps to your side. She keeps one hand on it, guiding it as you step forward. Hanni's mouth falls open and her tongue wets her lips in anticipation.

Dani plays with your length against Hanni's lips. She rubs the tip of it up and down along the wet surface of her tongue. Hanni's nostrils flare and a warm breath flies over your wet tip as she gasps. She opens wide, waiting.

Dani hesitates, asking, "sir, I can't stop playing with it, it's so nice. May I lick it?"

"Let her lick it, sir," Hanni begs, keeping her mouth open, her pink tongue poking out. She adds: "Please."

"Let me taste your cock." Dani pleads and you nod to her, eyes sparkle, and her soft-painted lips part into a sweet smile.

Your tip rests tantalisingly against Hanni's lower lip. Her tongue occasionally brushes against it. Dani has dropped to her knees, leading with her tongue, and lapping a warm wet heat against your base and over your balls. Your tip pulses against the entrance of Hanni's mouth and you can feel the warm breath flowing over you again and again. Her breathing gets heavier, watching Dani work at your balls.

Hanni brings her lips together into a kiss, right on the tip. Another breathy kiss on the head, and then she drags her tongue along her lips, sticking it out and gliding her wet tongue along the underside of your stiff cock. You can't wait any longer. You push slightly and Dani realises, ducking out of the way so you can drive between Hanni's plump lips.

Both your hands find back of Hanni's head, your fingers getting knotted in her locks and your palms resting on her, and you slowly, gently, push her down on you.

You find a rhythm with your hips, slowly pumping into her lips. She relaxes into you, and she sucks and she laps her tongue against you. Dani watches in amazement. "How does she feel, professor?"

You grunt with satisfaction, affirming your pleasure with a moan and then Dani breaks back out into laughter, "I think she likes it too. Don't you Hanni?" Hanni nods as your slide in and out of her, but she never breaks the seal on your cock.

Dani continues teasing her friend, saying, "I think she likes sucking on it, I've always wanted to suck on professor's cock. I'm so jealous." Dani pulls open the buttons of her shirt. There's no bra underneath, and her perky little breasts are perfect. She slips her hand into her shirt to cup one of her little mounds. She brings two fingers into her mouth too, imitating Hanni. She wets two fingers with her lips and she then runs them over her plump nipple. Hanni hums around your cock, picking up on the encouragement.

"Dani." You grunt. For all your hesitation earlier, you're fully invested now and ready to bark your commands to your two playthings. "Get on my desk, spread for me." You add, "now." It's Hanni who flutters her eyes and pants a breathy moan around you, sounding her approval to your command. Dani, under your authority, obeys without question. She stands, climbs onto your table and perches her ass right in the centre and brings the heels of her feet up to the edge of the desk, either side of Hanni.

Dani pulls open her shirt, letting it fall off her shoulders. Revealing maybe the tightest body you've ever seen. Her button-up shirts usually did a good job of covering how slender her body was, but there had been times before—times when she probably did it on purpose—when she had worn a tight shirt that showed you a little more. That's how you always knew she had a slutty little waist. But seeing it bare, now? In all its toned glory? It's enough to drive you insane. Then your eyes hit her cute, dainty tits. Her nipples, as perky as her personality.

"Do you like my tits, professor?" Dani asks. You don't answer, just shifting your eyesight between the lust her body calls for and your cock sliding into Hanni's throat. Dani protests your distraction and she cups her tiny tits and pinches her pointed nipples. "Hey. I'm showing you, sir, look."

Again, no words for her. Just keep indulging. Keep savouring it. Slide in and out. Fuck Hanni's mouth until her throat can't take any more.

Dani pouts and she leans back. She spreads her legs open, hiking her skirt up to show you those black panties, and then her fingers rub across the fabric. She demands your attention. She has it, of course, but the silence is a game. A power play you can't help. But she is getting frustrated, pushing the fabric of her underwear to one side and slipping her fingers against herself.

Her pussy is pretty and pink. Small, tight and nestled between her spread thighs. She pulls open her wet lips, and her chest heaves and she asks, "what about my pussy, professor? My tight little cunt?" Dani speaks to you in that bratty, spoiled tone, desperate for your attention.

Hanni slips her lips off you with a pop. She's desperately chasing her breath, gasping for air. She wraps her hand around your slick, shiny cock. The glistening is her own work. You catch her looking up at you, her mascara is a little runny—a wet splash of black around her eyes—and her hair sticks to her damp skin. Her eyes pierce right into your soul, and you can tell how pleased she is that you want her like this. She gently strokes your length. "He wants you Dani, I can see it in his eyes."

Dani brings up her other hand, sinking a finger inside herself. "I want his cock. I want your long hard cock professor. Inside me. Please. Please, use my little cunt."

You glance down at Hanni. Do you make her feel less special now? You have a hard time pulling yourself from her; you'd love to cum all over her face but Dani demands your attention. The thought that this tight little pussy might finally satiate your frustrations and longing gets the better of you. You bring a hand under Hanni’s chin and guide her to her feet, letting your tie hang loose around her neck.

"I want you to watch. If you're good for me," you plant a soft kiss on Hanni's cheek, "then, after, I'll let you ride my cock."

"You promise?" Hanni gives you a wide-eyed and hopeful look.

You smile at her without a word, stepping past her and towards the spread and waiting Danielle. You place your hands on the inside of her thighs and you have to break out a smile when you feel her flesh burning under your touch. You pull her to the edge of the table until her ass is on the edge, and her body is ready for the taking.

You can't resist the feeling as you rub the swollen end of your cock between her folds. She whimpers, pushing her head back with each pass. "Professor." She whimpers. "Teach me. Teach me how to be a good little toy. I know my grades are bad but I'm gonna do better if you fill me with that big, hard cock of yours."

She's tighter than you ever could have imagined. Just the head and she's wincing. You groan back a similar whimper when the hot, clenching little cunt embraces the tip of your cock.

"Sir, I think you're too big for her." Hanni runs a hand through your hair.

"No!" Danielle refutes, instantly. "I can take it. I want it." She locks her stare with you, her defiance against her friend behind those watery eyes. Dani draws her bottom lip into her mouth as you draw deeper into her.

"How's it feel Dani?" Hanni asks, leaning over the desk by her side, before planting a few kisses to her exposed shoulders.

"Stretch—" Dani groans, struggling.

"Stretched by professor's big, hard dick." Hanni finishes the thought for her.

"Yeah," Dani manages as you push deeper.

Hanni is right there and is just too much to resist, bent over the desk with her skirt still pushed to her hips. Her red, swollen ass is on display. You can't even try to stop yourself. The glowing flesh taunting you.

You grab and you squeeze at her ass, digging your fingers into the wounded flesh. As Hanni is encouraging Dani, whispering soft words into her ear, you take a moment to spank her one more time. One heavy-handed slap against her ass and Hanni spits a grunt into Dani's ear.

There's not even a flinch as Dani's focus is on one thing only—you slowly fucking her tight cunt. You're driving your hips into her slowly, going deeper each time. Dani can't hold it in anymore, her soft mewling moans erupt into deeper, lustier vocalisations. Every gyration of her hips has a new feeling flowing into your cock. Hanni's hand snakes between the pair of you, finding her little clit and poking at it.

Dani collapses back against the desk and Hanni over her, tasting her body with soft kisses. It's back to her you shift your focus, slip her underwear off and let it fall to her ankles. You run your hand again over her stained flesh, this time driving towards her pussy as you do. That welcoming gap at the top of her thighs invites your fingers in. She is soaked. So beautifully aroused for you, and eager for the experience.

"Tell me how wet you are."

"Sir, I'm so wet," Hanni replies, punctuated by another giggle. "So wet for you, sir." She twists her head up and you run a finger over her pink slit, dipping the fingertip in and retrieving more wetness. She pushes back against your finger, desperate for you. So you curl two fingers into her and push deep into her heat.

"Yes. Fuck, yes." Hanni whimpers. A soft whine against Dani's skin.

With two girls beneath you now, them both whimpering in desperation, you pick up the pace and fuck harder into Dani. She braces her hands behind her against the table, hanging on. With the impact of your body crashing into her, her body shakes on the desk. Your thrusts cause Hanni's body to react too, you feel her pussy pulsing around your fingers and her soft whimpers slip into short, gasping breaths.

Your pelvis slaps into Dani's thighs over and over, and her legs tremble against you. Her elbows buckle. She fights a long and hard battle, but she's failing. "Sir. I'm gonna—" She can't even finish what she wants to say before her toes curl, her chest heaves, and she begins to tremble.

Hanni tells you the obvious between her hitched breaths, "she's cumming sir. Fuck, sir. You made Dani cum."

Dani lets go, she whimpers and moans with no shame and her body rides the wave of bliss. You slow and turn your attention to Hanni, breaking out your fingers. She quickly slips her hand behind and takes your fingers in hers, sliding them into her mouth, and swirling her tongue around them. You smile at her deviously. She smiles that innocent face back at you.

After a pause, Dani still squirming and spent beneath you, Hanni breaks from sucking on your fingers. "Can I ride your cock now, Sir?" She's so sweetly, sincerely, asking you for your permission.

Your tie still hangs loose over Hanni's neck, you reach for it and pull it taut once again. You step back, drawing your length out of Danielle and stepping back toward your chair. You're pulling Hanni along, giving her an answer unspoken. Hanni doesn't need any more persuasion than that. You tug slightly and she scrambles to her feet. As you're sitting, you give the tie another quick jerk, a playful little gesture and she tumbles to her knees once again.

"Sir..." she whispers, her eyes dark with a growing lust and burning hot with the rising urges. Hanni crawls towards you, stopping when she finds your thighs. Without hesitation, her fingers find your length. "I spent so many lectures watching you sitting here, just wishing I could play with your cock." She runs her hand up and down your length. You groan softly in response, encouraging her. "I would sit and stare. Did you ever notice?"

You smirk and think back. The thing is that you could never really tell. She was always staring as you taught, but it was never obvious that she was actually listening. Hanni never took notes; maybe the innocence in you just assumed she had a great memory. But the truth is so much more salacious than that. To think—to know—that all along this is what she had on her dirty little mind? Well, it's thrilling.

"Maybe," you play coy.

"These weeks have been excruciating. How could you make my pussy throb, and just ask me to sit and take notes? My hand was trembling and shaking, holding my pen, as I tried to come up with answers to your questions. The entire time I just kept hoping that you would drag me up here and have your way with me. You should have..." All the while she's been talking and unbuttoning her top fully then shrugging it off.

Hanni presses her chest forward against your shaft as she's perched over you, teasing you with the friction of her bra. "Hanni, all those short skirts you wore. Did you know that sometimes when I sat here I could see underneath them?" You can play this game too.

"Oh professor..." she giggles softly. "Do you know how wrong it is to look at your students like that?" For all this teasing on you checking her out, she still persists in undressing, unclasping her bra behind her and letting it fall to reveal her soft mounds. "Shame on you, professor." Hanni feigns a look of disgust that slowly melts into a beaming smile.

She strokes your length again, this time rubbing the tip of your cock, still stained in Dani's cum, against her nipples. "Do you remember last week, sir? When I had to get up and leave. I went to the bathroom and..." Hanni trails off, a little embarrassed. Your focus slips away and onto her delicate body, her perfect perky tits, and her gentle swaying movements as she pushes against you.

"You couldn't hold it in anymore. Could you Hanni?" She purses her lips and shakes her head slowly. "Tell me what you did."

"I ran into the bathroom, and slammed the stall door behind me." She guides your cock down between the soft pillows of her breasts. "And I leaned against the wall and slipped my hand inside my skirt and panties. And the throbbing was unbearable..." Hanni closes her eyes, moaning to herself as she tries to relive the moment in her mind. "I thought about you. Thought about doing this and..." she squeezes her breasts together, "and I came right there."

Dani slips off the table and comes towards you, perching on the arm of the chair. "She's not the only one, sir. Just last night I thought about you as I fucked my pillow." While Dani feeds you her fantasies, Hanni is still playing with your cock between her tits. It doesn't look like she ever wants to stop.

"Did you?" The slight hitch in your voice makes Dani's smile sparkle.

"Yes sir, and we're not the only girls who—"

Hanni shushes Dani with a quick scorn, and whatever confession she was about to make, Hanni stops her, "that's private Dani, don't go spoiling it for her."

Danielle laughs softly to herself. "Right, girls like secrets. Sorry, Sir, we can't say any more, but we will make it up to you, won't we Hanni?"

Hanni nods eagerly as she climbs up onto her feet. Danielle reaches over and pushes Hanni's skirt from her hips, leaving her finally, fully bare in front of you. You take a moment to admire while you can. You could bathe in the memory of Hanni, naked and brimming with desire.

It is the beauty of Hanni's body, yes, but even more, it's her gaze when she catches you admiring the sight. Such raw, unfiltered joy shines through her eyes. That is what gets you. The sweet, simple, pleasure she is enjoying is on display.

She steps over you and climbs onto your lap. She places both hands on your chest and leans into you. For a second you forget how to breathe; her face mere inches away from yours and those big, soulful eyes so dangerously deep. She kisses you softly, tender and careful. You're completely engulfed. Nothing else matters. Not the ungodly amount of work you have to do later tonight. Not tomorrow's damn tedious seminar session. Your focus now is Hanni and what she's about to do.

"Professor," she hums so sweetly in your ear, "I've been thinking about you all week. How much I want to ride your cock. Do you know how much I want it?" You slide your hands around her small, soft waist, grasping at the smooth surface of her back.

She holds your cock in one hand as she rises up on her knees, nestling herself over you. She looks you in the eye as she lowers onto you. You look back. You want to know what her reaction will be when you enter her. That is worth the wait.

There's that soft gasp. Tender. Breathless. Almost speechless.

"How does that feel?" Dani asks you, leaning into your ear, and kissing at the skin.

You go to speak. Your voice croaks and falters as Hanni begins to roll her hips into you. Soft, almost imperceptibly light bounces at first. You correct your voice, "fuck, perfect."

"Does my pussy feel good, professor?" Hanni's fucking you slowly, and you respond to her question by gripping tightly around her waist and pushing up hard into her. She holds your gaze as she begins to up her tempo. Flesh on flesh, clapping as you crash into each other. Hanni takes your hands in her own, guiding them to her breasts, placing her fingers on yours and gently squeezing her soft tits.

Dani is biting at your ear from behind, her hands running down over your body as she whispers into your ear, "do you like her tits professor?" Dani pulls your shirt open and her delicate fingers roll over your nipples. "They look so nice to touch. To grab. How do they feel?"

Warmth spills over you. You’re sitting there, letting Hanni—little innocent thing—ride you like an animal. Your cock feels snug inside her, tightly clenching around you. Dani is kissing at your neck and shoulders and Hanni is playing her little games.

"This is even better than I imagined, professor, but my legs..." She sucks in air through her teeth, struggling to continue as you penetrate her. "My legs need a rest. Will you put me on the desk?" Her soft voice, still so innocent despite what she's doing, somehow only thickens the lust.

You nod. You have no more words. Wrapping your hands around Hanni, you carry her, on your cock to the desk. Hanni slips back onto the desk and lets her head fall backwards. Eyes glued closed in total bliss. She mutters through a heaving breath, "you're fucking me. Fuck." Like she can't believe it's real.

You hook her legs, bringing them over your shoulders, resting the heels on you as you use the leverage to pump against her.

"Professor," Hanni's hands are tightly gripped onto your forearms, "are you going to cum inside me?" She opens her eyes just enough to let you know she's watching your response, a smile turning up the sides of her lips.

"Yeah." Dani can't help adding from your side, again touching your body. "Cum inside her professor. I think she needs it bad. Don't you?" Dani tilts her head at Hanni, questioning her.

"Yes. Give it to me professor." Her reply, direct, assured and daring, leaves no room for question.

Hanni's back arches and she groans again, this time with more hunger in her voice. "Please, professor. I want to feel you."

Your orgasm begins to stir inside you. Still, you restrain yourself, continuing to thrust into Hanni as she closes her eyes, pouting her lips and writhing under your control. It's the most magnificent thing to watch, how this once delicate and unassuming young woman is now transformed by lust.

"Look at me Hanni," you command her. Hanni's eyes slip open and meet yours. She whines softly as you drive into her. "I'm going to fucking cum inside you." You can hardly believe the words falling from your lips as you give Hanni the tainted energy of your thoughts.

Dani clings to your shoulder, encouraging you. "Don't stop professor. Please cum inside her."

It's at that point you have to wonder how long these two have been conspiring about this. All to culminate in this moment. This moment that fast approaches, about to crash into you in your inevitable—but long-awaited—release. Your breathing hikes, reaching a pinnacle, and the grip on Hanni's waist tightens. You bury yourself to the hilt as you slow to your final movements.

Hanni runs her hand through the strands of her hair stuck to her forehead. Gripping herself as she feels it inside her. A pleasured smile on her radiating face. You're emptying into her. Everything you have. Your entire fucking self. You're pumping inside her and filling her up. You keep your eyes glued to hers.

"Oh, fuck yes, professor. He's cumming Dani." Hanni throws her head back against the table, shaking and trembling and slowly melting into euphoria. You drop her legs, pressing your hands on either side of her, just trying not to lose balance while waves of pleasure crash around your body.

Dani strokes at your back, caressing your shoulders with her delicate little fingers, giggling with appreciation. "If only you knew how long she has been waiting for you to do that." She gently pulls on your shoulders, drawing you out of Hanni and back towards your chair. Your whole body collapses into the leather.

Dani kneels by your feet, looking up at you, a smile that dances on her lips and delight in her glittering eyes. "Can I clean you off, professor?"

You have nothing left to give. A nod is the only thing you have strength for.

Dani's tongue laps against your cock—hot, wet, and hungry.

Hanni is still coming down from a high. Naked, used and breathless, she rises to her elbows and smiles mischievously.

You look down at Dani. Licking. Cleaning your spent cock. She's careful and caring with her touch and tongue. But the smirk tells it all—she wants to taste as much of you as you can offer. And she wants you hard again, ready to give to her as you did to Hanni.

In that silent understanding, there is another, too. You look back to Hanni, and you know in your gut that this isn't a one-off. Study hard—those were her words. Little studying happened, but there's more than one way to improve a grade. And if these girls want to be in your class next semester, and if you want them, then maybe a little extra credit wouldn't hurt.

Yeah, this is definitely not the end. Not for today, not for a long time.

A/N: Well I managed to cobble this together in just two days, and it's a bit of a throwback to my old style which feels right given it's two years since I first started. This one was just plain porn, but the next fic, folie a deux part 4, will have a lot more character work that I'm excited to share. Thanks for reading <3

#hanni smut #danielle smut #newjeans smut #male reader smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #m reader #school au

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softbeej · 3 months

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Rule Number One (You Gotta Have Fun)

Alastor x Reader Smut. U break his only rule and bother him while hes tryna work. Enjoy. :} Requests open btw.

Alastor had locked himself up in his radio tower for what felt like days. He was truly a workaholic, and loved to be busy. This was fine, except you found yourself actually sort of... missing him?

No sight of him creeping down the hallway or the impending feeling that he was about to catch you doing something prohibited at the hotel. It all felt too empty all of a sudden, and you wished he’d be back down soon, even if just to make you uneasy with that eerie smile.

So, you decided to break the number one rule set by him.

“Under no circumstances is anyone to ever enter the radio tower without my express permission.”

Well, what are rules if not to be broken, right? And that’s where you found yourself, climbing up into the prohibited area.

Ears pressed back, he turned to face you. There was no other way to put it, Alastor was fucking pissed.

You shouldn’t of come up here. You should of listened to his stupid rule, and busied yourself with something else. Maybe you had time to turn around, and pretend you made a wrong turn.

“I trust you have something important for me? Something that would be worth you coming all the way up here without my say so, hm?”

His voice was even more staticky than usual, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You were thinking up a response when he stood up and strode over to you. He jabbed his microphone stand under your jaw, albeit gently, and forced you to look at him.

“Well, deary?”

You only shook your head, hair bouncing on your shoulders.

“Then why, pray tell, are you up here? And use your words this time, yes?”

Within those few words, you suddenly understood why he was so feared. Just from the way he spoke, he could make you feel tiny and stupid.

“I, um, was just wondering where you were, is all...”

“Oh?” He released the microphone stand and you faced the floor again, feeling like a child about to get scolded. “You did know where I was though, didn’t you? So, I’ll ask once more. What brought you up here?”

He had retired back to his chair, and was watching you intently as you squirmed at his questioning. His smile never once left his face.

“You know what, I should go-“

Slam. His shadow had closed the door.

“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to ignore someone, darling? I’m just asking you a simple question, what’s the need for all this attitude? Why are you here?”

Blush rising to your face, you picked at skin around your nails still not wanting to look at his shit eating grin.

“I was bored. Missed you.”

“Ah, there we go! You see how easy that was?”

You nodded, “Can I go now? Sorry for interrupting...”

“Nonsense! You missed me, did you not? You came all the way up here for me, desperate for my attention. Well, dear, my attention you have got. Come, sit, sit.” He patted his thigh.

Oh, how you wished the world would swallow you up right now. But the worst part of this was how turned on you were at his lecturing. You think your reaction was doing the same to him, given the way his ears were perked up and pupils blown.

You walked over to him, gently perching on his knee, before he pulled you down by your waist so you were properly sitting in his lap. He continued working, tapping buttons and twisting dials, as you could only sit there and pray your heart rate would soon go back to normal.

"If I did not know any better, I'd say this encounter has you quite excited, darling! The way your pulse is rising, and not to mention the fact I can smell the arousal on you!" He laughed. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If I had brought out such emotions in you."

Your blood drew hot in shame, he knew.

You nodded and tried to save face, "Yes, Alastor. I'm fine, just- my pulse is high from the walk up here, that's all."

"And if you were to stand up, your answer would be the same, I presume?"

Confused, you cocked your head. He didn't say anything, just wrapped his hands around your waist and stood you up.

There it was, the evidence he was looking for. A wet patch on his thigh. Right from where you were sitting. Your wetness had leaked through your panties, leaving a spot on his dress pants.

“Well, look at this mess. And my best pants, no less! Do you have anything to say for yourself, dear?”

You shook your head, never so embarrassed in your life.

He tutted, "First, you lie about why you came up here. Then you lie about this? Darling, have you no manners? Or am I to teach you them myself, hm?"

His eyes were half lidded now, ears twitching.

"I- uh. I think you need to teach me, Alastor..." You admitted, not able to take your eyes off him.

“Finally! The right answer! You’re getting the hang of this now, eh?” He laughed, and patted his thigh - the one you’d dirtied, “Back up here. May as well see how much more you can ruin them.”

Legs shaking, you stood up and straddled his thigh. He leaned in close, “Now get yourself off. You can do that, yes? If your mewls at night are anything to go by, I’d say you’re to be a natural at this!”

The thought of Alastor hearing you play with yourself through your bedroom door sent shivers down your spine, in a good way. He grabbed your chin, angling your head to face him.

“I said you can do that, yes, dear?”

You nodded, hands reaching up to his shoulders to steady yourself as you started grinding down on his thigh like your life depended on it, maybe it did. You could feel his cock hardening. His hands trailed down your body to your hips where they stayed, helping you slowly ride his thigh.

“Theres a good girl, hm? See what happens when you behave?”

You nodded, breathing heavy, “Uh-huh.”

Alastor nodded, his hips gently bucking up for friction. Your hand went to zipper to help, but he brushed it away.

“This is your lesson. Not mine.” He winked.

So you kept riding his thigh, until your own thighs were weak, and you were close. And he knew it.

“If this were a proper lesson, I wouldn’t allow you to cum. But you’ve been so good, so good for me... You may cum.”

You nodded into the nook of his neck, letting out a pathetic whiny mewl as you came, soddening his pants. From the sound of it, he came too, letting out a staticky grunt that would of hurt your ears if you were paying attention, but you were too busy grinding your way through your climax, as he shushed you gently.

He helped you stand up, your thighs shaking and almost giving out under you. A sharp finger pressed into the stain on his pants, before he collected some of the wetness and licked it off.

“Head off to my bedroom, now, love. Get yourself cleaned up. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

The walk to his bedroom was strange to say the least. Your knees shaking and panties wet, of course Angel was going to say something.

“Christ, you look like you been fucked good, sweets.”

“I have, I think...?”

“Oh yeah? And whose the lucky son of a bitch, huh? He knows not to fuck with you, right?” He winked, ever protective of you.

As if on cue, Alastor appeared, strolling carelessly toward you both. A hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt, Angel, my dear, but I’m afraid we have something to take care of. If you’ll excuse us...” He guided you away, towards his room.

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin smut #alastor

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notjustjavierpena · 11 months

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Gush

A/N: Just pure filth.

Summary: Joel, your dad’s best friend, teaches you how to come with your clit untouched.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), dad’s best friend, daddy kink (yeah it was bound to happen), pet names, innocence kink, age gap, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, only very brief piv sex, unprotected sex

Word count: 1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48494866

Gush

You let out a frustrated groan as you look up at the ceiling, arms crossed over your chest and with the prettiest pout that Joel has ever seen displayed on anyone’s face. He sits on his knees in front of your naked body, cock heavy between his legs but with no intention of using it on you and thus making you even more bitter about the situation.

“It’s not going to happen, daddy,” you say as you avoid Joel’s soft eyes. He rubs a hand over your naked belly, skimming it across the sensitive skin below your belly button. He isn’t going to give up.

“Well, no, not if ya don’t relax,” he says with a smug chuckle. You try to cross your legs to get him to go away, but he catches you by your ankles and places each of your feet flat on the bed again, “Stay, sweetheart. We’ll keep going until we get it right.”

You’ve been at it for what feels like hours now, but Joel hasn’t made you come yet with your clit untouched but oh, you have been on the brink so many times that your cunt is throbbing and a steadily growing pool of arousal is forming on his bedsheets. It’s beginning to feel ridiculous, especially when he bats your hand away when you try to take matters into your own hands.

“Daddy knows exactly how you touch yourself, I don’t needa see it again,” he had told you after your third attempt to sneak a hand down to your clit.

Now, you’ve given up coming anytime soon, but Joel is still determined as ever. He runs his thick fingers through your folds once more to slick up his fingers, then twists his wrist and inserts two fingers into your already stretched pussy.

“You know,” you say after a soft moan, deciding to look down once again to see his digits stretch you open, “I have to be home for dinner in an hour. Dad’s lighting up the barbecue.”

“He told me he was getting it out for the first time this summer,” he small talks back at you, curling his fingers inside of you and finding your eyes with his own, “There, yeah?”

He rubs once and you nod, moaning as he starts up a rhythm of his fingers slowly fucking against your g-spot. You shift a little, relax a bit further into the mattress and let your knees fall out to the sides.

“Don’t think of anything from now on, just of this,” he says quietly, pumping his digits in and out of you.

It starts out completely the same, and it’s enough to make you want to cuss at him. You know better than that though, and let out a whine, “It’s not going to work. Just rub my clit, daddy, please. It hurts now.”

“Shut up, I got something I want to try,” he coaxes your orgasm a little further. It’s the same build-up; something pooling in the pits of your stomach and tugging from inside your womb, but God, you need that little extra thing to tip you over the edge.

Or do you? Something changes then, and you realize that Joel’s other hand is resting just above your pubic bone. He pushes down gently and gradually speeding up his fingers, creating more pressure and friction inside of you.

“What’re…?” You let out a gasp that even surprises yourself, your toes starting to curl and your clit starting to pulse as if begging to be paid attention to, “Touch my clit. Please, oh— f— Joel, daddy. Touch it. Keep going, no, touch it.”

“No,” he says, beckoning your orgasm closer with his fingers. He makes a come-hither motion over and over again, keeping his other hand still on your belly until he can feel his fingers moving inside your cunt, “Wanna see that cute fucking clit pulse just for me, ain’t gonna be able to see it if my fingers are on it, baby girl.”

You panic a little when a new sensation starts coming from inside of you. It’s a form of pressure that you’re familiar with but not during sex, and you start thrashing a little to get him off, “Joel! Joel, I swear, I— I’m gonna pee. If you don’t stop, I’ll… oh my God, Joel, I’m fucking serious. You’re gonna make me— make me…”

You come with a high-pitched moan as all the tension in your body snaps. Every nerve-ending in your clit is on fire with sweet contractions of pleasure, and suddenly your whole heartbeat goes straight to between your thighs as your cunt spasms from clit to slit. It wants something more though, because your legs won’t stop violently shaking, and Joel seems to know exactly what that is.

Without saying a thing, he removes his fingers from you and you fear that you might actually have pissed his bed because, without warning, a wet gush has stained the sheets between him and you.

His fingers enter you once more, and you’re ready to cry as he causes another gush of clear liquid to squirt onto the mattress. It feels so fucking good despite how embarrassing it feels, climax slowly fading as he repeats the move a few more times.

You collapse completely when he finally lets go of you with both his hands. You’re panting softly into the bedroom, and he gets the shirt he had worn earlier off the floor to cover the stained sheets.

“Holy shit, the princess squirts,” Joel laughs as he crawls on top of you, but it’s a laugh filled with wonder and excitement. He looks younger like this, you think.

He hovers above you, reaches down to guide his hard cock inside of your still sensitive cunt. Both of you gasp in unison, but you’ve never heard his voice so cocky, “You, young lady, are the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen when you come like that.”

It’s enough to make any sense of embarrassment go away, and you can’t wait to ask him to do it again.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel x you #my writing #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel tlou #tlou #joel the last of us #dbf!joel

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berzahoes · 6 months

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manifestation, baby! | tom blyth

summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)

an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk

for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019

liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others

tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭

lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME

tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me

nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad

j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL

graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS

“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.

“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.

“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.

you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”

“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.

“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video

“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.

“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.

“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”

“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.

“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”

tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”

“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”

liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others

ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️

rachelzegler she is THAT girl

ynlovesbooks no u

everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL

ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍

chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this

ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf

tomblyth true

#tom blyth one shot #tom blyth fanfic #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #tbosas

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iznsfw · 5 months

Text

Trouvaille

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 1 - Kwon Eunbi

IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

21,183 words

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

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

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

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

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

Everything is too much.

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

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

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

But you’re still completely, royally pissed off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll live.”

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

You sigh loudly. “Eunbi.”

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

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

At this point—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take that cap off and we’ll see.”

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

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

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

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

"Two, please. Thank you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good, because I just lost your bag."

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

"Eunbi, what the—"

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

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

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

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

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

"You alright there?" Eunbi asks.

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

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

"Well—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's invasive."

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

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

“I don’t mind, honestly.”

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

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

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

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

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

The last time you'll see her?

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

“Telling you what?”

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

"Hit me."

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

Oh.

That.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What else can she say?

Perhaps:

“Please.”

Everything stops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

She tells you.

“Eunbi lost your backpack?”

For the hundredth time: “Yes.”

"Like actually?"

"Yep."

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

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

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

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

All those documents, lecture takeaways, pencils…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me how the date goes!”

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

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

Something’s wrong. What is it?

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

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

“W-well—”

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

“Fuck it, I’m sorry, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eunbi—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug casually. “Born and raised.”

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

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

"Jesus."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No can do. Just do this one thing.”

And now, the night quiets.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, no, no—ahhhh!”

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright, fine. Turn on the light."

"Where?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Eunbi!"

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

"Help! My hand—"

"What's going on here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Christ, what's she doing here?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sakura only has one stipulation:

You have to go with Eunbi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d you know where I was?”

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

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

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

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

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

You don't want to think about it.

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

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

“What?”

“I said: is it weird when it’s me?”

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

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

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

“No!”

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

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

You’re lucky Eunbi never takes things to heart.

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

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

“Do you like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck! Eunbi, Eunbi, Eunbi—”

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

“Good girl. Good pretty girl.”

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

“I love you.”

That’s what she says.

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

It could only ever be in your imagination.

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

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

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

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

She's leaning over, and she's saying—

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

Close enough?

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

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

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

"So it is."

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

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

Look at her.

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

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

Yeah, all gone.

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

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

“You really love me, huh?”

“Never said it was you.”

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

Well, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Swallow. Why the fuck is she like this?

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

She bends over.

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

"—drop."

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

"Not even close. Give me a smize."

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

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

—your friend. Your best friend.

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

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

And that scares you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That a problem for you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wanna get a Piglet?"

“A what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll be good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So? It means a lot to you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Like trouvaille,” she says.

“What?”

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

A lucky find.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Even… ?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh!”

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

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

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

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

She gasps. “Again.”

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jealous?”

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

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

Then you remember something.

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

She’s near tears. “No…”

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

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

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

You take her home instead.

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

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

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

There’s pride in that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you?” she challenges.

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

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

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

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

“Give it to me what?”

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

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

“Wow, hypocrite. Fuck you—”

“Baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But oh, you are.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re terrible at this.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not commenting… on, t-that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a brat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Swallow.”

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

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

(You are.)

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

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

“Anytime.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like I said: incredibly demanding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d rather show.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You keep granting. And granting. And granting.

“Spread those legs.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Open more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both of you know what’s true anyway.

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

“How fast are we talking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A lit match to a flamed lighter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you say, laughing.

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

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

You don’t.

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

You do.

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

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

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

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

“Nah,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“It worked!”

“I can’t believe it worked!”

“They’re so obvious about it, too!”

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

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

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

You are, too.

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Way to time your—”

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

Do so.

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

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

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

“I told you to save yourself the trouble.”

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

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

“I like it when you trouble me.”

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

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

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

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

Refer to this:

You kiss her, your little trouvaille.

1K notes · View notes

fluffylino · 6 months

Text

mommy!hyunjin, i said what i said

(he can rail me)

-contains mature themes

"is mommy fucking you good?" hyunjin mumbled, groaning at how tight you were. you couldn't help it.

everything was so hot. he was so hot. his length pushing inside of you was even hotter.

you wanted him to stay there. to stay buried deep inside of you.

"fuck, s-stop clenching so much" he cursed out, gripping your thighs that had him plastered to you.

"m-mommy" you moaned out before he could press his lips against yours. his tongue swiping against your chapped bottom lip.

he was everywhere.

"mommy's here, baby" hyunjin reassured, thrusting into you at a pace that had you keening. you wanted to rile him up. make him see stars.

"what about y-your husband...?"

his eyes darkened, halting everything he was doing.

was it so wrong to bring up the messed up skz family skit into this?

hyunjin was still dressed up as jisung's beloved wife. a beautiful sight.

his white button up shirt falling off one of his shoulders, exposing his smooth skin. his pretty short pants discarded on the side somewhere.

his hair was tied back, a few extensions added to make his bun look fuller. two hooped gold earrings on his ears. he looked like a rich aunty.

a milf, to be exact. your milf.

it all started when the skz family skit has just got done. hardly an hour had passed. everyone seemed to fit their roles so well.

especially one person. hyunjin, that is.

his hair looked so pretty tied up, a few strands cradling his face. his face was so pretty but the way he sat gave it all away. his legs spread, arms crossed behind his head as he leaned back. watching them play with focused eyes. it suited him. the whole concept.

you just wanted to get on your knees and suck him off.

what did it for you was the fact that he smiled so proudly when his "kids" called him mommy.

something you had always wished to call him.

when you looked at him. it was never daddy. he didn't give off those vibes.

it was always mommy.

mommy hyunjin fucking you into oblivion.

mommy hyunjin making you gag on his cock.

mommy hyunjin having his way with you.

"mommy-"

you unconciously said when they had finished shooting. the rest of them were in the other rooms. joking around and laughing. you could hear minho scold seungmin. perhaps he needed help with getting the hanbok off.

hyunjin and you were the only ones left in the room. so when u said that. you froze. your inner thoughts had managed to get out.

"yeah?" hyunjin replied, not even looking at you. he was busily poking and prodding at his hair in the mirror. his eyes met yours through the mirror.

what the actual fuck-

did he really respond to that so cooly. he turned around, a suggestive expression on his face.

shit...he looked so..wow.

and thats how you ended up in this situation.

you waited for him to respond. his dick throbbing inside of you. everything still.

"my husband? why would i ever need that man" he played along. if it anyone were to hear, they'd actually believe it. his acting skills were impeccable when not scripted.

he leaned forward, his hands gripping the side of the table he had made you sit on.

you trembled when his lips brushed past your ear.

"you fuck me so much better than that unloyal bastard"

he whispered breathily. you whimpered. his hand immediately coming up to cover your mouth. muffling any sounds you could make.

"plus you're perfect for me. and i love everything about you"

he bucked his hips, hitting a spot that had you drooling into his palm. his eyes locked onto yours.

"shhh do you want him to hear us?"

"i bet you do...want them all to hear how mommy's dick makes you a dumb cockslut"

"m' not a slut"

you mumbled, or atleast tried to against his hand. he pulled out completely, his tip barely pressing against your folds.

"yeah you are. only for me though, right?"

there was a comforting tone in his voice. hyunjin knew how sometimes degrading names could trigger you. it was only until you confirmed that he continued.

"only i get the privilege to see you falling apart"

you nodded, a low moan leaving his lips, as he took his hand off your mouth. you knew you were a mess. even more so then before.

"hyunj-"

you gasped as his hand made contact with your cheek. you could feel yourself get wetter as the pain set in. he had slapped you. he clicked his tongue.

waiting.

"mommy..s-sorry aah-" you bit down on your lip as he pushed into you in one swift motion. never slowing down.

"you're so m-much better than my husband"

"take me so well...hng-ghn so tight" he gasped as you unconciously clenched around him. pulling him in. making him lose his mind.

"shit so warm and wet'nside..all for me"

"look d-down"

you mumbled, holding his hand that was on your hip and placing it against your lower stomach, just below your navel. he looked down, focusing on the imprint of his length inside of you.

disappearing and reappearing as he pushed in and pulled out repeatedly.

"so deep inside of you..bet i could fuck my babies into you"

both of you moaning when he pressed against the bulge. you were so close.

"i can f-feel you all around me" hyunjin mumbled. your eyes rolled back. an intense feeling bubbling inside of you, waiting to be released.

"i'm cumming" you gasped out, grabbing onto his neck, pulling him closer.

"cum for me"

white filled your vision. a whole wave of pleasure washing all over you.

going limp, you whined at the overstimulation. hyunjin was still chasing his orgasm. grunts and little high pitched moans leaving his swollen lips.

"i-in my m-mouth" you muttered, trying to get him to pull out. his eyebrows furrowed. maybe he didn't hear you.

"h-huh?"

he pulled out slowly with uncertainty, stroking his dick. his orgasm seconds away. a little longer and he'd end up losing it.

you got off the table. practically falling onto the carpetted floor. kneeling down infront of him. you kept your mouth open, sticking your tongue out. just enough. centimeters away from his dick.

"warn a man, goddamnit"

he cursed out. you couldn't help but smile. a long drawn out cry escaping him as he came. streaks of white coating your tongue.

"ahh-hha" he threw his head back, closing his eyes tightly.

perhaps the sight of you running your tongue from his base all the way up to his sensitive weeping tip was too much of a sight to handle.

"so you like calling me mommy?"

"HYUNJIN-"

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sugurufic · 3 months

Text

Co-Parenting with Suguru

AU where Geto didn't kill the entire village but adopted Nanako and Mimiko (I love mommy geto)

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Geto is able to adopt Mimiko and Nanako with your help, and how the girls with Gojo set you two up. Acquaintances to lovers, idiots who care for each other. (pure fluff, and i've tried to avoid using y/n)

You wouldn't say you and Geto were good friends, but when you were asked to testify on his behalf in front of the higher ups, you readily agreed. You were tasked to look after the twin girls he had brought back from the village and they were the sweetest little girls you had ever met. Even if Geto had killed those villagers, you couldn't blame him - they were torturing two innocent souls on problems caused by their own vices.

Shoko and Gojo couldn't testify to Geto's character - everyone knew they were practically joint at the hip - the three of them are always together. You were closer to Utahime your senpai, known to not like Gojo and Geto very much. With whatever casual conversations you had had with Geto, you hadn't really found a reason to dislike him. And hearing Nanako and Mimiko call him “Geto-Sama” in their sweet little voices only helped in solidifying your high opinion of him.

You heard their narration of the night and how Geto with his incredible bangs and magic powers stopped the evil people hurting them and took him away and dropped them into your arms.

“Do you really think any of those could be trusted with kids?” Geto asked. You snorted in response and gladly accepted to take care of the two lovely little girls.

“Your Geto-Sama will be right back with you,” you promised the girls while closing the buttons of your uniform. “I will be back in a bit. I've got dolls for the both of you,”

“Thank you,” they tell you, adding “sama” to your name. You blush but don't say anything, having already told them to not address you as such multiple times over the couple of days.

“I don't believe that Geto-San could have gone out of his way to hurt those people. In fights with curses, collateral damage is always there, and Geto had two little sorcerers to take care of. I think we can excuse him this time.” You said when you were asked to speak.

“I don't see anything wrong with letting Geto-San take care of the two girls. They clearly trust him much more than anyone else, after how horribly they were treated by the village. I pitch on his behalf, that he would take utmost care of the two sorcerers under his care.” You said when the question for their custody arose.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Geto said bowing in front of you once the elders were done with the hearing. They had dismissed everyone else to discuss the matter.

“You've got some lovely girls to parent now, Geto-san,” you say, returning his charming smile. “Are you sure you are ready to be a parent?”

“Not really, no,” He admits. “I will try my best though,”

“Oh they are such lovely girls, I have half a heart to keep them for myself,” You fawn, feeling suspiciously giddy. “If you ever need a babysitter-”

“I will definitely call you,” Geto nods with a smile on his beautiful face. He has always been beautiful, but today with his hair half-up, half-down, he looks especially charming. He rushes away on hearing footsteps and you walk the short distance to the dormitories.

“Hello girls!” You excitedly enter your room, holding out a bunch of cookies in your hands, thanks to Utahime. “The final decision of the higher ups will come later today, but Geto should be free to see you,” You give them the stack of cookies and then seeing the styled dolls add, “Do you girls like dressing up?”

You smile with the way their eyes widen with excitement and open your humble wardrobe in the dormitory, giving them access to everything they'd need to get dressed up. They decide to dress you up instead, and the three of you are full of giggles as they take your makeup and freely draw on your face - and be surprisingly good at it. You play some of your favourite music, which the girls seem to enjoy and then they paint your nails. They dress you in your best clothes and you love the way they've styled you.

There's still a long time left before the higher ups will announce the decision, so you take the girls out shopping to distract them. Fortunately, your income as a sorcerer allows you to have the freedom to spoil your girls - and you love it to an alarming extent. Mimiko and Nanako have got excellent taste, you'll credit them that - they pick out the cutest dresses for each other and coloured lip balms that compliments each other's hair well. You encourage them to change into their new clothes in the mall itself and take so many pictures of them and with them - and you are almost sad at the thought of letting Geto have them, but that's something you will be sad for later.

You've lost track of time at the mall, and when you get back it's already twilight. The girls had a lovely day, and they are still buzzing with excitement when you enter.

Geto is sitting on your bed, in a semi-clear spot with almost all of your stuff on it - from the whirlwind that dressed you earlier.

“Geto-Sama!” The girls scream with delight and kneel down in front of him with bows, showing how grateful they were to him - he motions them to get up and hugs them both simultaneously, but his foxy eyes hold your gaze as he says, “Mimiko and Nanako can live with me, from now.”

Your body reacts to the news faster than your mind, and you've already planted a kiss on his cheek and have your arms wrapped around him before you realise what you have done. A crimson blush colours his face along with your lipstick as he thanks you, his voice softer and breather than usual.

Your whole body heats up when you see the colour of your lipstick on his cheek and the way he makes no attempt to wipe it off his flushed cheeks as Mimiko and Nanako look up at him with glittering eyes.

You hear your name from Nanako’s mouth, noting the “sama” she had added yet again. Geto's eyes are affectionate as he hears them gush to him about you, about the fun they had with you.

While Mimiko is in Geto's arms, Nanako makes her way into yours and you feel silly for tearing up. You hug her close to your chest, feeling her little arms around your shoulders. “Thank you for bringing back Geto-Sama,” Nanako whispers to you. You pat her head and plant a gentle kiss on her cheek, now mindful of the transferring lipstick.

The sound of a camera clicking snaps the four of you out of the trance, and you find the Gojo Satoru standing at the threshold of your room, clicking pictures of the four of you. “Suguru, you get a girlfriend and daughters and you forget all about your best friend,” He tuts, dramatically putting a hand over his chest, his icy blue eyes peeking from behind his sunglasses.

Gojo gasps on seeing the lipstick mark on Suguru’s cheek and takes out his phone to snap even more pictures of a blushing Suguru. “You forgot to mention things were this serious!” He says, mock offended.

“Gojo/Satoru, shut up!” You and Geto speak simultaneously.

“You're even saying the same things now,” Gojo sighs like an old man. Mimiko and Nanako burst out into a fit of giggles. “You agree with your godfather, Satoru, right girls?”

“Godfather? Where did that come from?” You ask, scrunching up your nose.

“Well it was gonna be Suguru as mother and myself as the father but now you've taken in as their mother and Suguru as their father so I've got to take the next best thing-!”

You hit him upside his white-haired head, veins on your forehead popping out with irritation at his words. Gojo rubs the top of his head muttering something under his breath. “This is why I always stay with Utahime Senpai,” you say, making Suguru and the twins laugh.

“Get him, girl!” Geto cheers you on.

“I won't give you Nanako and Mimiko if you continue to be roommates with him,” you declare, narrowing your eyes at Geto.

“I'm renting a place outside Jujutsu Tech,” Geto confesses with a sigh.

“WHAT-?” You and Gojo both yell in shock.

“It's for the best,” He says.

“You’re taking my girls away from me!” You complain, hand on your chest. “This is so unfair, Geto-kun. How will I see them now?”

It's been a couple of weeks, and the twins have adjusted well to Tokyo. You've adjusted too, opting to spend your time with them rather than with anyone else. Gojo keeps teasing you relentlessly, not even bothering to stop when the teachers are around. You've grown closer to Suguru as well, spending most of your off-time with him. Shoko has become your refuge now, with Utahime leaving for Kyoto.

It's one of your lazy Sundays, and you wake from your and the twins afternoon nap. They are snuggled to either side of you, and it’s unbearably hot but you don't dare move; admiring their serene, sleeping faces. Your left eye twitched at the thought of the torture your girls were subjected to by those foolish villagers, blood boiling once again.

You reach for your phone instead, going through some old photos. You've scrolled down to when the girls were living with you, a picture of the three of you with matching white bows in your hair when the door quietly opens, and Suguru quietly enters with a pitcher of water and some glasses. He chuckles at your grateful face, pouring out some water for you. You gulp down the water, your overheated body giving out a sigh of relief when the cold water hits your stomach.

“It's time to wake them up,” He whispers, leaning down to your laying form.

“I don't really want to,” you whisper to him, pleading, not looking away from his pretty dark eyes. “Five more minutes?”

“Okay,” He relented with a sigh, sitting beside Nanako. You think of how different he is now, different from when he is exorcising curses and when he is with Gojo. You also find yourself liking this side of him, that only his girls got to see. And you, one of his girls.

“Have you thought about their schooling?” You ask, voice quieter than a mouse. Geto lays down, facing you.

“I’ll have them homeschooled,” He replies just as quietly, frowning.

“That’s boring,” You say. “How will they adjust to the outside world? We can’t always be with them.”

“I’m terrified of the curses getting -”

“Teach them to defend themselves, just a little.” You suggest. “You know they can’t rely on others, they will need to learn to keep each other safe.”

Nanako stirs between the two of you, mumbling a hushed “papa,” under her breath as she snuggles into Geto. You fawn all over this, his pretty eyes wide and looking at you, seeking assurance. A gentle smile graces his beautiful face as he caresses the girl’s caramel hair and you have to resist the urge to pull his silky hair out of the bun and run your fingers through them. You opt to lightly pat Mimiko’s dark head instead, and she snuggles into you mumbling, “mama,”

Admittedly, you’ve teared up a little and you excitedly turn to Geto, who is giving you his prettiest smile that you’ve ever seen. In this little moment, you can pretend to be a happy family, living in a rose-coloured dream.

Suguru loves spending time with his girls, and it’s even more delightful when you join in. He especially loves it now that you’ve practically moved in - the guest room slowly filling up with your scent and trinkets. He enjoys taking all of you out to different spots in the city - the parks, the malls, cute cafes and even back to Jujutsu Tech, occasionally.

Suguru wonders if the two of you could even be friends if not for Mimiko and Nanako - just adding to a long list of things that he was grateful for from that night. Your easy smile and sparkling eyes and the way you shower his girls with your love and care just keeps on adding to all the things he admires about you. He half wishes Satoru’s mindless teasing to become a reality, but he lacks the courage.

Currently, he’s sitting on the floor with Nanako behind him, brushing his hair out and Mimiko sitting beside her twin, acting as her inventory. He’s in pure bliss, and the only thing that can make this better is your presence.

Soon enough there is a knock on the door, and Suguru feels bad for hoping it’s you. Of course, he enjoys your company, but you deserve a chance to live freely and not spend every waking hour with him. Satoru and Shoko are there instead, with amazing takeout for Friday evening.

Satoru spoils his self-proclaimed goddaughters (Suguru wouldn’t trust anyone else, either) with the best of everything. Shoko loves teaching them new things, reading, maths, curses, the human body - everything watered down to suit their tender young age.

The four of them play board games while Suguru does the laundry, putting the clothes on the drying line. Usually, you would be here helping him with the clothes, words flowing easily between the two of you.

He's distracted from laundry when he hears Satoru call your name followed by a whistle, then yelling, “I can't really blame Suguru, you look so hot!” He hears your grumble something, and then Mimiko and Nanako’s excited cheers on your appearance. “You had a date?!” Satoru says again, his voice loud and surprised.

Suguru’s heart feels heavy, and he makes his way to the rest leaving half of the clothes in the dryer.

“It wasn't really a date honestly.” You complain. “That guy had no manners! Chewing with his mouth open and not even using the napkins properly! And he barely asked me anything, kept on boasting about himself - it was boring.”

Suguru feels half guilty for the way his chest relaxes, but his breath is taken away as soon as he sees you - you are always beautiful, but you look especially pretty with your brown leather skirt and black jumper. Your jewellery compliments your complexion, and your hair looks perfect. And he has to agree with Satoru- you look hot.

“Where's Suguru?” You ask, looking around.

“Right here,” He says, coming to stand beside you.

He loves the way your eyes sparkle - the lids decorated to match the outfit and a delighted glimmer in your eyes.

“So, I was at the mall and this reminded me of you,” you say, picking up the paper bag on the floor beside you. “The only good thing that came from today, to be honest.”

“You were thinking of me while out with another guy?” He teases.

You get flustered, but respond “Do you want this present or not?” You try to sound stern, but you hand him the bag regardless.

The bag feels heavier than he had expected, and glances in to see the professional camera he had been eyeing for a long time but didn't buy in favour of getting Mimiko and Nanako some limited edition dolls. His pretty eyes widened with delight. “How did you know?” He asks, unable to hold back his excited smirk.

“I am not blind, you know.” You retort, happy that he loved the gift.

“What is it?” Shoko asks. Satoru snaps the bag towards himself, taking out the box of camera and different lenses. “That is one expensive investment,” she remarks.

You chose to ignore her comment, distracting everyone with the little cake you had bought. “And I've got cake!”

“Is today someone's birthday?” Mimiko asks.

“No, baby.” You say, “It's okay to have cake without any reason,”

The little girls are delighted to see the half sky and half forest cake. Neither Suguru, you or his girls have any idea as to when the exact birthday is, so you have them cut the cake together, pretending it to be their birthday. When Suguru takes the cake to the kitchen to cut it up, you follow him, leaving the twins with Shoko and Satoru.

“Suguru, you should get dressed up fancy too,” You say. “Let’s take some good pictures with our girls. I’ll cut the cake up.”

“Okay,” He agrees.

Suguru decides to match you, consciously picking pieces that compliment your outfit well. He is inappropriately fancy dressed up for this photo session. He is thrilled to use the camera you’ve gifted him, and there is no better scene to be his first than his girls(you included) and his friends. He’s brushing his hair out, putting it up in a half updo before giving himself a once-over then leaving.

He’s surprised to see Mimiko and Nanako dressed up too, sitting on either side of Satoru as Shoko and you clicked pictures on the phones. His camera is sitting on the table, still in its box. He has a child-like excitement as he opens the box and checks the lenses with it - the excitement of setting up the camera is unmatched. Even though he enjoys spoiling his girls, he cannot deny that being spoiled is a nice feeling.

Once his camera is ready, he snaps a picture of the scene - you sit between your girls now as Satoru and Shoko click pictures. The flash from the camera distracts everyone, and his eyes find yours sparkling, looking at him with the sweetest smile on your face. He cannot help but wonder how your lips would taste. Suguru smiles at you instead as you wave him over, Mimiko and Nanako between the two of you. Satoru and Shoko give him a knowing once over, the deliberate matching not missing his best friend’s six eyes.

Your hand touches his - neither of you attempting to move as Satoru clicks a picture of the four of you in Suguru’s new camera. Satoru is grinning like an idiot seeing Suguru’s blushing face, motioning Shoko to click some pictures of their idiot friend in love with his daughters’ mother. It is stupid, Gojo thinks, the way that the two of you act like an old married couple but are too terrified to confess your feelings for one another.

“Mimiko, Nanako, come here for a moment, dears,” Gojo calls them. “Suguru, Y/N, please stand closer. You aren’t rivals.”

Suguru narrows his eyes at Satoru, but doesn’t comment on it, too happy when you’ve pressed yourself at his side, your arm wrapped around his waist. He swings his arm over your shoulder and leans his head towards yours. His face burns with the soft warmth of your body pressed against him - but he holds his smile steadily, looking at the camera. He looks at your beautiful face for a moment, the serene smile on your face and he forgets all about the jerk who had taken you out.

He just prays that he gets the courage to ask you for a dinner date - perhaps before someone else snatches you out of this perfect life of his.

Satoru is at Suguru’s flat, spending time with the sweet little girls. Both you and Suguru had some unavoidable business to attend to - you with some curses and him with his parents - and he finally got the chance to babysit them. Satoru is currently sitting on the floor of the twin’s bedroom, with pink bows in his white hair and getting his nails painted in a pale blue colour by Mimiko and Nanako.

It's not his favourite thing for amusement, but he lets it pass. He does get why Suguru lets his girls do these things to him - they look just so precious with the little forehead creased in concentration. His mind is cooking up a scheme - a scheme which can only be fulfilled with the little one's help. It’s only with him that they address you and Suguru as mama and papa- feeling too shy to address the two of you as such face-to-face.

“Dears, do you think your papa and mama love each other?” He asks the little angels painting his nails.

The girls share a secret look with a smirk that tells Gojo everything that he needs to know. “I’ve seen papa look at mama the way Nanako looks at crepes, Gojo-sama!” Mimiko snickers. “He always has a big smile when mama is home.”

“Mama is also the same, Gojo-sama!” Nanako says. “She looks at papa the way Mimiko looks at ice-cream!”

Gojo laughs at their childish description of the two, wondering how blind you guys must be to not see that the feelings are shared.

“Gojo-sama!” Nanako jumps, excited, as she remembers something else, her caramel bob shaking. “One evening, when mama fell asleep on the sofa, papa carried her to her room. We brought her blankets and he tucked her in, but she held his hands in her sleep.”

“Yes!” Mimiko jumps up too, brown eyes gleaming with giggles. “Papa had turned so pink when Mama did that. He could barely speak.”

“That sounds familiar,” Gojo giggles with them. “Do you want to help me set-”

“Yes!” the twins shriek before he even finishes the question.

Once the three of them are done with the set up, Gojo calls Geto to let him know that he has some urgent clan business to attend to, while Mimiko calls you to tell you that Nanako had a bad dream and she misses you terribly. Both of you rush to return while Gojo and his goddaughters leave for the evening. Gojo leaves a little post-it-note on the fridge, with a brief message.

Geto has been running for 10 minutes straight, red faced and out of breath as he reaches the door of the flat. The elevator dings open and you step out, looking just as out of breath. “Did Mimiko call you too?” you ask, panting.

“No, Gojo told me he has some clan business - ” He says, taking a moment to completely process your question. “Why did Mimiko call you?”

“Nanako had a nightmare, she was asking for me only, apparently.” You say, standing beside him now. The enticing smell of your perfume fills his senses and he is grateful that his girls have you to comfort them. He too finds comfort in your presence - albeit it’s for different reasons than his girls.

When no one opens the door for a couple of minutes, you put your ear to the door and try to hear something. The house is quiet, devoid of any movements.

“I think they’ve fallen asleep.” you comment.

Geto then opens then closes the door as quietly as he can, trying not to disturb the girl’s sleep. He bumps into you standing in the hallway after taking off his shoes - only to gasp as he sees the immaculate set up in the living room. A sheer white canopy covered in fairy lights and seemingly all of the pillows and some mattresses of the house thrown in the tent - and some of his and your favourite snacks. There’s a movie paused at the beginning and red roses and candles and mild incense decorating the room. Geto blushes when he realises that it’s a set up for a date, heart pounding against his ribs in part-annoyance and part-excitement as he sees your shy face. He’s half mad at Gojo, but he can see the traces of Mimiko and Nanako as well - with the way the pillows are laid out and the flowers are placed.

Geto’s phone rings, breaking the tense silence. It’s Gojo. “Suguru! Put me on speaker!” Gojo’s excited voice says from the other end. He can hear his girls giggling in the background.

“Fine,” Geto sighs.

“Oh hey!” you turn around on hearing Gojo call your name, face hot and worrying your lip between your teeth. “Your little girls, they thought we should let you guys have an evening to yourself - relax and watch a movie. How did you like that set up?”

“You didn’t really have to-” You start to speak as Geto rolls his eyes, fully knowing it was Gojo’s plan. He knew Gojo well.

“Nonsense, you won’t let your daughters down by saying that,” Gojo says, and Mimiko and Nanako giggle louder. “Alright, bye! Enjoy yourselves. There’s wine in the fridge, Suguru.” He says before handing up.

“I’ll get the wine,” Suguru offers. You smile at him before sitting down in the fairy-light canopy, looking much like the woman of his dreams, like a princess waiting for her prince. His heart aches, for he can’t call you his, not outside of his mind. He smiles too, pretending that it’s date-night for you.

There’s a note on the fridge in Satoru’s messy scrawl which gets his attention first. Suguru, take one for the team and ask her !!! Your daughters and friends are rooting for you. She likes you, you blind idiot. A blush colours his face as he crumples the note and throws it in the bin.

His favourite wine is in the fridge, and Suguru is half surprised at Satoru’s thoughtfulness. He pours out two glasses and brings them to you, the bottle left back in the fridge. “Wine for you, ma’am,” he says, and you get the cutest blush on your face as you accept the glass, humming in delight at the taste. He follows your stead and lazily relaxes against the mountain of pillows under the canopy.

“What’s this movie?” You ask, fidgeting with the remote.

“I have no idea,” He says, praying that Satoru doesn’t embarrass him.

The movie begins with the main character, the girl getting ready to go work. It seemed like a cheesy hollywood christmas movie at the beginning, where the girl would be frustrated with her job and go to her small town and never return. That would have been better, in hindsight. Because as the movie progresses, and the love interest comes in - a single father, who had to send his daughter into foster care because he was wrongfully accused of embezzlement - the foster parent being the main character. The girl testifies for him in court while she lives with a new normal - caring for the love interest’s daughter as her own.

Suguru's face burns with how similar the movie is to you and him - he can barely even look at the screen. While the movie played, he subconsciously reached towards you, your warm cheek now resting against his shoulder. It’s hard for him to ignore it now that he realises that this movie was a deliberate selection, and the comment in the note about him being blind.

Suguru steals a quick glance at you, finding you looking at the screen with a little smile, cuddling one of the bigger pillows. You seem totally unaffected by the movie. “It’s so cute,” you murmur.

“Hm?” he prompts.

“The story,” you say, glancing up at him then back at the screen.

“Would it be cute if it were real?” he asks, heart pounding against his ribcage.

“Even cuter,” you nod, cheek moving against his shoulder.

His heart threatens to crawl out of his throat at the admission. He eyes the two hands, one his and the other yours - so close but not touching, afraid to cross that invisible boundary which has built over time. He dares now, for once to cross that boundary, to test the waters and puts his pinky finger over yours, interlocking them. He can feel your smile get wider as his heart nearly makes a hole in his ribs.

You take it a step further and intertwine your hands with his.

“I love the way your hand fits in mine,” he says after a long tense silence, sounding breathier than usual.

“You have nice hands,” you shyly say.

It brings him confidence, the way you say it. Emboldened, he turns to face you and wraps his free arm over your waist, pulling you closer. His nose touches your forehead and he inhales the smell of your shampoo, never tired of smelling it in the pillowcases of your room. He lowers himself to your eye level, stroking your cheekbone. “Would let me kiss you?” he whispers to your lips.

“Always,” you whisper, parting your lips to welcome him.

The kiss is everything he could have imagined and more. It’s pure bliss, the way your mouth slots against his and the way to taste better than he could have possibly imagined. Of course, you have always been pretty, but he found you the most beautiful in this moment, in his arms, with your soft tongue fighting against his. His brain has short circuited and he fears that he might get addicted to your taste. He chases your mouth when you pull away to catch your breath, letting go of the intertwined hands that had sweat in the heat of the moment.

Suguru misses your lips instantly, scanning your face for any signs of regret or discomfort. You place one of your hands on his neck, reach the back of it and caress the delicate spot where his hair ends, and a gasp leaves his mouth at the sensation. You put your other hand on his collar and pull him close, his face dragging against the soft pillows and you kiss him. This kiss is much more desperate than the first one, with your teeth occasionally crashing and tongues exploring, the movie long forgotten still playing on the screen.

When you’re both out of breath, you pull back, still breathing the same air and noses touching.

“It was the best fucking kiss of my life,” Suguru confesses, sounding out of breath.

“Mine too,” you say.

He doesn’t want you to think that it was a spur of the moment thing, so he puts on his serious face and says, “Would you like to go out for dinner with me? As more than co-parents?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you reply with a giggle.

“Dress fancy,” He says. “Let’s go.”

“Now?” you ask.

“Why wait ?” he shrugs.

“I don’t have - ”

“You do,” he says, shy. “I had got something for you a while back, but never mustered up the courage to give it to you.”

You sit up, looking down at him with an excited gleam in your eyes. “You’ve gotten me an outfit for our first gate, it seems like you were prepared.”

“I swear to you that I wasn’t.” He says. “Just try it once.”

The dress Suguru brought compliments your figure and complexion well, and you’re surprised to see that it fits perfectly. You uber to a fancy place, and with the man on your side, this is the most perfect first date ever. The maroon dress hugs your figure in the right places, and you feel giddy knowing that Suguru had bought this lovely dress with you in mind.

He looks even prettier today, sitting in front of you as your date, dressed in an equally fancy maroon suit. You take plenty of pictures with him, distracted by his long silky hair in a half-up, half-down look. You can barely process the food, distracted by the beautiful man in front of you taking in the way he talks. The way he says your name, almost purring, has you wanting to throw your feet and giggle like a little girl.

Suguru isn’t better off himself. Of course, he loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, but right now dressed in the dress he bought for you, sitting in front of him with flushed cheeks, the delicate smile never leaving your face as you speak has his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He finally has you with him the way he had been wanting for years, finding you pretty even when you were both mere acquaintances.

He cannot wait to call you his, but he supposes he’ll save that question for the next date - for you to give this relationship a name. In his head, he is already yours - heart, mind and soul - the only question bugging him is whether you want to be his. That’s a worry for later, he thinks, as he plants a delicate kiss on your lips as the long evening comes to an end.

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto fluff #jjk fluff #jjk au #jjk x reader #geto suguru fluff #fic: co-parenting with suguru

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