#iz days of christmas day 1
Note
Tutor eunbi where she rewards you increasingly everytime you get an answer correct starting from clothed groping and ending up with creampie
(inspired by a jav that uhhh... my friend saw definitely not me)
[KWON-0927] "P-please be gentle!" Busty School Tutor Whimpers Cutely As You Go Down On Her Curvy Figure After A Rough Revising And Has Her Sensitive Nipples Played With! Never Gonna Fail An Exam Again!
IZ Days of Christmas: Day 1 - Kwon Eunbi
First Part of Dulce Periculum | Next Part
IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut
8,131 words
Categories | tutor!Eunbi, uniform sex, rough sex, nipple play, corruption, titjob, mating press, tit play, fingering, creampie, squirting
Start of Iz*Mas! This is my EIGHTEENTH Eunbi fic. Me writing too much Eunbi.
Anyway, enjoy this :)
There's the stab of overmorrow's claws that sink into your skin as early as ereyesterday. Add the fear that creeps into your heart when you look down into the textbook and realize there is a one-way path with this situation and it does not look safe at all. Everything goes downhill from here. There's the—
Three quick knocks pound onto your wooden door like silver rain on a rooftop. You close the textbook with jerky surprise, but you do not need to look into the eyehole to know who it is. The visitor is obviously her. It's obviously Kwon Eunbi, the smartest girl in your school.
You have requested her to help you revise for your exams, and accordingly, she comes to your home every Sunday since the start of September to do so. How you got so lucky to have such a pretty girl visiting you regularly, you'd like to say you have no idea. But you can only point to your report cards and feedback sections scribbled with dark red negativity. If the scathing words from exhausted teachers written on the back aren't enough to send the message, you will be straightforward: you aren't the brightest student.
You are quite average in other subjects, which is probably one of the two redeemable qualities about you. But English is just a ridiculous setup for failure. You do not like having people know you need help with it either, which makes your situation a bit more difficult than it already is if not for Eunbi being the sweetest girl in the world. (Besides being the prettiest.)
The fear partially washes away, like leftover combed seashells on sand. The phobia of failing has gone by a small surge, but a new one takes its place: one of Eunbi.
It's not that she's an overly strict and brutal tutor; in fact, she's as kind as a girl can get, and too pretty to be frightening anyway. But you are afraid of what you might do that can seem out of place if you want her to like you. If you want her to want you as much as you do her. It's such a stupid schoolgirl crush you have on her, yet you find no escape. Nor can you find a girl that can match the beauty she has, or a distracting enough video game to keep your mind off her.
Your heart aches with anticipation as you open the door. It is no big surprise to see that Eunbi looks beautiful. The pair of round black-rimmed glasses sits on her nose neatly, matching the color of her curled long hair. In addition to that, she is still wearing the school blouse and skirt, making her look like the perfect cute nerd in movies. It's a very usual and everyday outfit, nothing too model-ish or fashionable. But it still dumbs you down to nothing but admiration. How it wraps around her busty form and shows off her thighs oftentimes make you lose the answer to her questions even though it's on the tip of your tongue.
"Hi, oppa!" Eunbi says kindly. She is just a little younger than you, but definitely only by years. In terms of knowledge, she is way out of your league—she's miss Valedictorian, the biggest bookworm, writer of the year, and a good volleyball player. You... well, there's not much to go over.
She gives you a big hug. Emphasis on the "big." Her breasts practically push into your body and almost nudge you out of her embrace. The girl is adorably oblivious to it, only beaming with giddiness at seeing you, and hugs you tighter. Your breath sounds heavier than her giggle.
But wrap your arms around her a little too confidently. Her smooth back and taut stomach feel good under your fingertips. How much more if you were holding—
No. You can't think like that about her! She's your tutor, a completely innocent girl who doesn't deserve to be lewded by your thoughts depsite her insane body. But no matter how many times you remind yourself about it, you keep forgetting. Kind of similar to your relationship with sentences and predicaments.
But it is a different kind of forgetfulness when it's with Eunbi. Unlike the panic that grips you when you forget an essential fact while answering your test, you are blissful to delve in its ignorance. For a limited time, the world allows you to believe that she might like you. That you might have a chance with her. It's a little thing that makes you happier and sadder in the same breath, but you wear a big smile.
"Hi, Eunbi. Thanks for coming by so early!"
It's a statement free of sarcasm. You are glad to have Eunbi come by, especially when you are about to have a breakdown over English. But even with that aside, she's a beauty, and beautiful things are more than allowed in your home.
You lead her to your living room. Several of your textbooks, reviewers and fillers are already out and open on the coffee table. There is science... mathematics... history... they all make your head hurt more than any car ride could.
"Yeah, Miss Bae dismissed us early so I came here five minutes before time," she says with a giggle. But then her face suddenly loses its brightness and surges into fear. "I didn't disturb you, did I? I'm really sorry if I did! You know I could wait till you're settled!"
Oh, that cute downcast look. She is so painfully cute that you want to hug her again, and not just for the feel of her body. "No, not at all!" you say, calming her down. "I needed to work on revising early anyway. Will you help me a little more today? Maybe some extra time, too?" you add hopefully.
"Of course, it's my job! And you pay me very... abundantly." Eunbi gives you a cleverly-timed wink. "So I don't mind at all. Shall we start?"
She hands you the worksheets she has prepared. They're not too lengthy, and have her watermark: a clean red doodle of a bunny and her name in Korean. Nothing out of the ordinary. These letters in the questions aren't in Korean, though. Wait, why are they...
Oh dear God, no. It's English. English, the goddamned language you are forced to learn since everybody in the world knows it and writes it because one day, some stupid people decided to build the tallest tower in the world and made God angry. Or so you were told. But why couldn't you be the exception and go on without knowing the languages?
It's important to note that you are an overall average student. Not good enough to make the honors' list, but not bad enough to be one of the rejects sitting at lunch in the corner either. You barely pass exams, but something is still better than nothing. So, on other subjects, you lend in time to study without putting in much effort. However, this one is your weakness. While you still have hopes to pass in other subjects, the chances slim when you are put in the English spotlight.
You can never wrap your head around it. For example, why do "though," "tough," and "thorough" all have different pronunciations but are spelled nearly the same? Why does the menaing of a word or sometimes a whole sentence change your approach?
It is too broad of a language for you. You'd rather stick to the Hangeul characters you know by heart and say something in your native language. But you know Eunbi won't let that happen.
She sits there with her hands folded, patiently waiting for you to go on answering. But she notices the crease in your forehead and immediately knows what is going on; you have hit a rut, and she has to help you out of it. "Do you want me to go over some flashcards first?"
"I didn't know we were going for English first, but yeah, sure," you say, a little reluctantly. To you, flashcards are just the same as worksheets: difficult and senseless. So you do not understand why she thinks this will help. But hey, you're the student, she is the tutor slash teacher slash cutie. You have to trust her to do her thing well.
"Okay!" says Eunbi cheerfully. She brushes back long strands of curls behind her ear with another hand as she picks up a deck of cards with the other. She remains optimistic and bright-eyed throughout the first minutes of the session, even if you are the opposite. "What is a verb, and what does it do?"
The honey-colored card that invades your line of vision is hard to scrutinize. It is a basic question, really. But not for you, for in that second, every bit of the little knowledge you have about a verb dissolves to nothingness. Verb... verb... what the fuck is a verb?
You are stuck with nothing but a slacked jaw and an empty mouth. Even a third grader can answer this, so why can't you?
You look back at Eunbi with troubled eyes while her brown ones remain cheerful. Never lose your spark, little one. "Uhhh, I think—fuck, can I get a clue?"
"Haaah, oppa-ya!"
The little one has lost her spark. Your ignorance extinguished its heat. Eunbi bumps your shoulder with the force of both mock and real frustration. "There aren't gonna be any clues in the exam, y'know?" she scolds you. "You can't just go up and ask the teacher for a hint!"
You feel a little bad now. Your mind's habitual way of letting important pieces of knowledge slip from its grasp makes Eunbi feel bad, too. Because of it, she begins to doubt her own teaching ability. Is she not patient enough? Did she not choose the questions properly? All those things run in that pretty head of hers now that you have immediately failed to answer.
But it truly isn't her fault. She spends nights printing out your worksheets and reviewing your subjects beforehand, always trying to add a sweet touch to them with a scribble of encouragement on the margins. And you... you are just mind-numbingly forgetful and lazy. None of it is her doing.
But you want to answer the flashcard question with a little bit of help. At least just a tiny bit of help.
"But it's just a tutoring session right now, isn't it?" you reason with her. Look through those brown eyes and attempt to find a hint of patience she can use for you. It is only barely less than the forgiving glimmer that is there on the usual. "Just one hint can do."
You are desperate for it. They are not always helpful, but they do give you time to reflect on what you have studied. On rare occasions, they tap into long-forgotten memories of your other sessions with Eunbi. Sometimes they are about studying, sometimes they're about the little talks you have with her that aren't study-related. There's the right keyword sometimes to put two and two together. Only sometimes, but right now, all you have around that can be of assistance is a hint.
Eunbi is not dumb. She sees through your reasoning and understands why it makes sense. So, being the kind girl she is, she relents. You have the heavens and her parents to credit for making her so forgiving.
"Fine," she says sullenly. She looks adorable; her full lips are pulled downwards in a pout, paired with her spectacles. She looks like the perfect nerdy girlfriend. Oh, if only... "But if you still give no answer or a wrong one after this, we're going to review again. Do we have a deal?"
"I promise we do, Eunbi. With all my heart."
"Good oppa!" says Eunbi cheerfully, back to her normal self. "Here's the hint: it's what you, um, do. In that sense of the word."
Realization hits you, only by a little jab. "Oh! I think that's—um..."
"You just said a verb! Come on, you can do this!"
Then it hits you with unsure slap, as if it were doubtful that it hit the right victim. "The, the action that the subject of the sentence does—?"
"Ding, ding, ding! Yes, you got it!"
Eunbi claps happily, hugging you again. You are blissful, too. Maybe there is a chance of you succeeding after all. Maybe the path isn't so foggy.
"Do I get a prize for getting the correct answer?" you ask with much anticipation. Eunbi always has little treats for you to go by. After a particularly difficult mathematics session, she went with you to the café for a milkshake. Sometimes you would go out for a quick snack. But honestly, you'd take anything, just as long as she stays by your side.
But the Eunbi by your side currently does not look so sure of herself. You can identify well the look on her face because you wear it all the time: an expression of curiosity. You wonder what had gone on behind the scenes for her to look so insecure.
Her index fingers meet and part repeatedly as she gazes at you. Her eyes tell a story you cannot piece apart, but you can get the mood of it: a strange wistfulness left unattended to.
"It's all up to you, actually," she says, quietly, "and I just want to know what it feels like when it's from you. Just that."
"What do you mean, Eunbi?" you ask, with more confusion than ever.
"F-for your prize, you can touch my, um, chest."
"Huh? What happened, is your heart beating weird?"
"No, oppa, I want you to touch my breasts, pleaseee!"
She spurts out the statement with frustration and embarrassment. Eunbi's cheeks have grown bright red, and they only tone up when your hands start to fidget. You may have a hesitant mind of your own, but your hands have known what they wanted to do since the day Eunbi dropped that pencil and accidentally flashed you more than an eyeful. Ever since your eyes took in the beautiful yet limited sight of her breasts, you realized that there is more to Eunbi than a cute girl. And all the time, you thought that she didn't know of her own danger. You ignorantly thought that she is simply too young and innocent to find it out for herself, but she must have seen your provoked expression that day.
"Eunbi...?"
"Look." Eunbi pouts at you and unbuttons the first few buttons of her blouse. The two hills—no, mountains—of flowing cleavage rises into your view. "Does oppa want his prize or not?"
"Of, of course I do."
Tentatively wrap your deft fingers around Eunbi's tit. It feels even better than you imagined. Even with the partial cloth blocking you from its full glorious nakedness, its softness remains. You can feel her nipple harden under your thumb as you continue to squeeze her.
It is a new feeling to Eunbi, having a foreign hand touch where she is second most sensitive. Especially since she has not done any of this sex thing besides touching herself. And even the orgasms that had her whimpering and rocking against her pillow with desperation cannot compare to your fingers groping her.
"Mmm, oppa, that feels good." Her eyes close with all the pleasure you give to the softness of her heavy breasts. "So good... getting touched by you like this."
"Fuck, Eunbi"—your body inches closer to her busty figure, eager to press against its form—"I want to—"
"No, s-stop, we aren't done with reviewing yet!" Her weak voice sounds as if she is trying to convince herself rather than tell you off. With a reluctant look on her pretty face, she positions herself on the sofa normally, trying to proceed. "Don't be so greedy, oppa-ya."
"Seems like you're greedier than me, Eunbi. You were whining like a puppy," you counter her insult. While you understand that she still needs to go on with her job as a tutor, she does not need to pretend that her heart is burning with desire, too. Literally.
Eunbi crosses one thick thigh over the other and shakes her head with clear denial. "No, I'm not! I just... wanted to know what it feels like," she now confesses with a sullen look. "And, and I know you wanted to touch me for the longest time."
Longest time? Does she mean that she figured you out that day, too? Kwon Eunbi is not as oblivious as you originally deduced. She may be sweet and cute, yet she is undeniably intelligent. You might have not said anything verbally about it at the time, but it turns out that she read you like a book.
Eunbi hides her face behind your English textbook like a shy bunny, leaving only her eyes for you to see. "I thought that it would be nice if I let you, because you're really cute, oppa! And it can be motivation, right?"
"Smart girl, Eunbi-ya," you praise her. Her cheeks glow red. She hides her face behind the book even more.
But your cheeks are beet red, too. Did Kwon Eunbi—the Kwon Eunbi, straight-A student and the campus crush—just call you cute? How long has she thought that about you?
The tables have been turned and your back was, too. You were the unmindful one all along.
You are struck by how dumb you are. It's not like it isn't already a usual factor in your life, but you don't miss things like this. You can tell how someone feels right off the bat with just a look. You pride yourself with your certainty of the state of everything. But even when it's already outside of academic fields, she's bested you. Again.
Just how smart is Eunbi? You have never underestimated her intelligence. It is hard to when she is always on top of the honors' list and the first to announce that she's finished with the exams. But now you realize she notices little things, too, just like you.
A silence passes over the living room for a few seconds, but Eunbi proceeds to the next question anyway. The two of you are blushing too hard and are just eager to move on.
"Second question," says Eunbi, shoving a card in your face, "it is defined by Oxford Languages as 'a word or phrase naming an attribute, added to or grammatically related to a noun to modify or describe it.'"
You appreciate the sources from which she gathered the fancy definition, but the elaborate meaning just makes your head hurt. Why stretch a simple definition out to such flowery words? One particular keyword rings a bell, though.
"An adjective," you answer confidently.
"Yes! Give three examples."
"'Pretty,' 'small,' and 'smart.'"
Eunbi blushes then nods approvingly. She knows all those adjectives were about her since you keep giving her pointed glances as you list them. She flips the flashcard to show that you got the right answer.
"You're getting better at this!" she says happily. "Your next prize is you can touch my legs."
Eunbi does not wait for you to accept her prize. She swings both of her legs over your lap, pressing them firmly to your thighs. Just when you thought Eunbi could not get more dangerous, she has showed you up again. The skirt barely hides the roundness of her thick thighs, nor does it hide the shorts that hug them so tightly.
You do not hesitate this time. If Eunbi wants this, then you should give in. Your hand graces the toned muscles on her thighs, formed by her days as a varsity volleyball player, and runs down the rest of her smooth legs. They feel almost as good as her tits, although the only thing that can outdo them is her face. That pretty, pretty face that reacts almost instantly with parted lips and closed eyes. You watch her responses to your caresses with a few pants of your own; seeing her orgasmic reactions is a thing straight out of a JAV porn.
Her center moves against your thigh demandingly. You take that as a signal. Slip your hands underneath her skirt and feel for—
"Hah, no, no, no!" Eunbi's gasps sound like they're wrung out of breathless lungs. "We still have more questions... and the worksheets—mmmm!"
Part of being a good tutor is to have the high ground, but not make it seem like it. But Eunbi is slowly losing the upper hand, all because of your fingers brushing over the center of her underskirt shorts and feeling for the insides of her thighs. She tries to be a good tutor. She tries with all the strength she has in her little body, but they cannot fight against your lingering touch. Nor can they resist the prods of your fingertips at what you think is her clitoris. You might be right; a sharper whine is heard from her.
"Noooo, why does it have to feel so good?" Eunbi whispers. She tugs at your shirt, burying her head in the nook of your shoulder. "Please, oppa, you have to answer some questions still..."
"Oh, fine," you reply with a kiss on her hair. "What's the next question, Eunbi?"
Her free hand shuffles the flashcards. "A word that represents persons, concepts, things, and places. Answer this right and you'll get a bigger prize."
Suddenly, you become the best student there ever was in English. You remember almost everything you and Eunbi have gone over during your sessions. It turns out that all you needed is the promise of Eunbi's body. The promise of the freedom to do everything good to that body that is just begging and pleading to be fucked thoroughly.
"A noun," you answer.
"Correct! You can put them inside me now!"
Swift and ready, your fingers travel through the sides of Eunbi's underwear and shorts and take pleasure in their destination: her hot, tight cunt. When your two fingers enter her, she practically screams. The virginal clamp of her walls is hard to navigate, but they are only a foretold joy for another part of your body. So you truly don't mind spreading your fingers and parting them. They bring another pro: Eunbi's helpless whines.
"Kiss me," she demands. "Kiss Eunbi, please. Kiss her neck."
Your lips arrive at her full tiers, only for a moment for they line down her cheeks, jaw, and neck. Her scent invades and controls your senses. She cries out needily, and she's honestly evil for it. So completely evil for enunciating her sounds with such desire and submissiveness, even if you're sure it's completely unintentional. But you fall victim to her anyway. You bury your face in her hair and kiss her hard, like you've always wanted to.
That's probably as true as the illustrious tits heaving up and down before you.
She's quite inexperienced, and it shows with the quiver of her form with every kiss you place, in addition to her constant whines, as if she weren't oriented originally to the feeling of being penetrated by your diligent fingers. But she wants it. She wants more of you playing with her body, yet she's hesitant, too. Should she abandon her job as a tutor and instead become your fucktoy for the hour? Or should she return to the former Eunbi—the Eunbi who smiles and claps for her oppa because he asked for her help?
"Come on, oppa. I have to, hmph, read another question. Please let me."
The good Eunbi still lives on. You're so impressed by it that your next kiss is one of tenderness rather than lust. "Good girl, Eunbi. Go on."
Her fingers grasp at the flashcards desperately, trying to keep them visible. "It is the topic of a s-sentence, and can usually found at the beginning or end of the sentence," she reads. There's a pleading glint in her eyes, and they send you a message: Answer this correctly, I need you.
You thumb her clit firmly, causing her to buck against it. It's a sign of her upcoming orgasm, and you are surprised that it will arive earlier than expected. But Eunbi hasn't been touched like this other than by herself. She's new to all this, you have to let her off the hook.
Rack your mind for the answer while Eunbi whimpers at your ever-so-constant thrusts. As you consider the possible answers that present themselves in your mind, she whispers pleads for more. Her thighs squeeze around your arm, telling you to keep going, even though your arm aches. You needed the exercise anyway.
"P-parallelism?" you say dumbly.
"No!" Eunbi shakes her head. "Now you have to stop, oppa. You answered incorrect—no, please, please slow down!"
Frustration wrecks your senses and sends your fingers furiously jabbing in the direction of Eunbi's slit. They do more than just jab. They dive into her and wiggle in order for the tiny hole to allow them in. Eunbi sobs as your kisses get harder, not knowing what to do when the orgasm rips through her body. How can she handle all this?!
You're being too rough. You know you are, yet you keep pistoning your digits inside her like it's an addiction of yours that you simply can't let go of. The sounds of her pussy slick with wetness and juices intoxicate you and send your impulsive actions into a flurry. Meanwhile, Eunbi's screams are becoming more and more concerning.
"No, it's not your prize anymore! It's too much, you have to slow down!" All those words yet she moves in accordance with your actions, giving you mixed signals. "I want more, oppa, but I have to be a good tutor!"
"The only good you're going to be is my good little girl," you declare. Teeth capture her earlobe then her neck. "And my good girl is about to cum, isn't she?"
Eunbi blushes at your words. She nods. She can tell from the way the heat is becoming borderline unbearable. It's dangerous, it's hot, and most importantly, it's wrong. She shouldn't have offered her body as your prize in the first place. She should have yielded to the temptation and resisted her lust. But they are all would've-could've-should'ves now. Eunbi is trapped in you.
She isn't sure if she wants to find a way out.
"Then cum for me. Cum for oppa, be good for him."
Her tummy is becoming too tight. She's scared, she's turned on, and she is very very close. "But oppaaa! I can't!" she sobs. "I can't, it's too hot, I can't I can't I can't—!"
She says she cannot, yet the stream of liquid sprays on your hands anyway. Eunbi's legs flail and spread, allowing you to furiously pump her core to climax. She screams the whole time, blinded by pleasure along with the heat. It pushes her nipples to erection and her toes to curl tightly.
You could have cum on the spot just from watching her cum. The climax electrifies her being and makes her shake from it. You never thought you could ever see Eunbi cum. The world is funny like that, bringing out the unexpected and hiding them once it becomes the opposite. You thought that her climax would be accompanied by quiet pleads. Instead, she cums hardly and violently. Her core holds onto your fingers and her clit twitches with need.
The flashcards have long dropped on her skirt. The worksheets are stained and wet from her squirt. It's all greatly unprofessional and low. But to you, she's still a good tutor. Still your good girl.
"You okay, Eunbi?" you ask softly. "Are you alright, sweet girl?"
She's shuddering like she's cold. Anyone would have offered her a jacket. You, however, offer her a kiss.
"I'm okay," Eunbi says, both to calm your fears of having hurt her and herself. Her eyes are closed and her mouth hangs slightly open to let out heavy pants. "Eunbi's okay."
"Glad to hear that," you say with a relieved smile. She smiles back tiredly. "Still up to tutor me after this?"
She nods. Of course she is. She is yours now, after all, although the two of you haven't been able to grasp at saying it out loud yet.
"Any last questions?"
"Yes, of course."
Eunbi lies back into your chest with a sigh of exhaustion. It's the happy kind of tiredness though. It was quite the surreal experience. In just a matter of minutes and only with your finger, she saw stars and still needs to be brought back down to earth.
Her whole body is numb. She needs to feel something. "The answer was noun, by the way."
"I thought so."
"Sure you did. What's a pronoun?"
That, you know. It's easy to remember since they are used so often. "Words used to substitute for names and things so they don't get repetitive. Examples are 'it,' 'she,' 'him,' and so on."
"Correct! Your prize is this!"
Her fingers stretch the garter of her shorts, and let its material fall to the floor. Her underwear follows shortly after. Your dazed eyes follow each slip and descent with longing. Then you realize that you don't have to long and wish for it like you did all those days ago. You can actually have it. She wants you to have it, and that fact alone makes it all the more exciting.
The storm of lust takes her down. She crashes on the sofa of your living room. You splay her legs apart to prepare her for the second taking. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she watches you fish out your erection, which already leaks with desire.
Then she looks up at you.
Kwon Eunbi looks up at you with bewildered eyes, with her legs spread apart and the skirt unable to do even the slightest bit of covering up. Her tits look even bigger from this angle, because they're squished up behind her black bra and by the blouse.
But most importantly, there's her pretty pussy to admire.
And to savage.
All she tells you before it happens is one, simple request:
"P-please be gentle."
You, however, do not reply. You can't make promises you can't keep.
After that, only obscene sounds come spilling out of the valedictorian's mouth. And it's all because of your dick rushing into her hugging walls, forcing them apart. Eunbi cries out, grabbing for anything to keep her sane, yet her fingers only discover the pillows of your sofa. They aren't strong enough to be immune to the dig of her fingernails in them, nor are they soft enough for there to be any comfort for her panicked hands. So she uses her thighs as substitute. She holds her legs and pulls them whenever the pain returns again, somehow unknowingly putting herself in a mating press position.
Her narrow textured walls embrace your cock with unyielding tightness. You were so unprepared for it that you have to calm yourself down before thrusting again. But how can you calm down at all with Eunbi's face contorted in a mix of pleasure and pain, and her legs up in the air like that? Not to mention her round tits peeking through the unbuttoned fabric of her blouse?
"S-so big! Oh!" Eunbi flinches as you fire a harder thrust. Your cockhead pokes places even her long, pretty fingers can't reach. She feels so worked up, so utterly vulnerable that her eyes begin to water with tears behind her spectacles. "Please be gentle with me, oppa, you're too big!" she pleads once more. But it isn't the only beg she's going to ask of you this afternoon.
Consider being gentle. Consider engaging in loving, soft vanilla sex with her. But your cock says otherwise. It wants to dive into her with every bit of mercilessness you have, and corrupt this pretty little tutor more. And you are not one to withhold anything from what your cock desires.
But you settle for slow but hard drills first. Eunbi hums, full lips pursed as she tries to take the width and girth of your dick. Her senses still run high because she has just experienced an orgasm from you fingering her, so it's difficult to go through it all without sobbing a little. She's never felt this turned on before, and she is becoming a bit overwhelmed.
"Show me your tits, Eunbi," you ask of her. It's more of a demand, really. Their bounces are limited by the containment of them by her bra, and if you were to give in completely to your desires, you'd rip it straight off. But you want to see her take it off by herself. You've wanted to for as long as you can remember.
Slow down to let her take it off. It's a white lace bra, obviously a little too old and small for her since its clasps let go easily. Her heavy breasts spill from the soft cups and into your line of view.
If you were to use adjectives for Eunbi's bosom, you'd use three: round, soft, and pretty. Their areolas and nipples are pink, erect because of the arousal and the air. They begin to bounce repeatedly now that they are free from their fabric prison. You couldn't be more intrigued with their rising and falling movements. They are far more interesting than the rising and falling action of any stupid classic your English teacher requires you to read.
They drive you to strengthen the force of your pounds. Eunbi wails again. "Oppa!" she says. "Oppa, just let me ask you another question!"
"Ask it while I'm fucking you," you reply.
Her voice strains and cracks as she tries to speak. "What is a... p-predicament, and—oh, god!"
This is the only test Eunbi will ever fail. She cries because of the rough assault your cock offers to her virgin pussy, yet her walls still embrace it demandingly. They never cease with their squeeze, so she can do nothing but want to be subjected to your using even more. She wants you. She wants you to make her cum.
But being a tutor comes first.
"Oppa, please make me ask a question!"
The heave of your hips take a while before they get the message. You force yourself to a stop. God damn it, you were already so close. Screw school for cockblocking you.
Eunbi is both relieved and disappointed that you stopped. The tears that watered in her eyes have slid down her pale cheeks while the juices from her well-fucked pussy drip down the sofa like a waterfall. You've taken her so roughly that there are red marks of your hands on her legs. You feel a little sorry that you've treated such a sweet girl so harshly; she looks so spent. And to think that this is only her first time!
"I—I need to catch my breath," she says. Her eyes close while her mouth performs the opposite. It inhales sharp draws of breath that make her breasts heave and fall. You feel the slightest tinge of guilt that despite the rough session and the break the two of you are taking, you are still utterly turned on.
Lucky for you, there's only better things to look forward to in the hour.
"You were so big inside me, oppa," she moans. "I thought that I couldn't handle it... but I liked it so much."
Recall your earlier line and state it: "I thought so."
"I still have another question or two," she says.
"Hit me."
"Give three kinds of adverbs."
"Adverbs of time.... uh, place? And manner?"
"Correct. You've earned a tit...." Eunbi struggles to say it without getting flustered. "I'll just show you."
One gentle push from Eunbi and you're the one on the sofa now. Buttons are released and undone, and her two breasts wrap your length with its loving softness. It takes time for you to realize what is going on. So it hits you a little later to realize that Kwon Eunbi, your pretty little tutor, is giving you a titjob.
Where did she learn all of this? That she answers right after the thought touches on your mind.
"Does it feel good?" she asks nervously. "I tried to watch some, um, videos of it, but it always seemed so hard."
She moves her breasts up and down, trapping them in the jail that is the soft flesh squeezing your appendage and stimulating your senses. Her tits love the sensation, too, especially when Eunbu's fingers tap on her all-too-sensitive nipples. Whenever that happens, she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, in a feeble attempt to calm her thoughts.
"You're doing great, Eunbi," you groan out. More than great, in fact. Her bosom does most of the work, but her expressions contribute to your wants and needs as well. Those watery puppy eyes and the stretched frown of her lips make you want to fuck her mouth. See how much she can take and how much she can cry.
Next time.
Claustrophobia never overtakes your cock. They enjoy the pillowy closeness of the tiniest spaces of Eunbi's boobs. Eunbi looks on with utter fascination. She has never done this before, and never even thought that this was a thing. So she's a little surprised at how easy it is, and how good it feels for you. The breathy groans you make as you slide in and out of her voluptuous chest make her core wet with need.
You get off more easily and earlier than you expected. Just a few more upwards thrusts and you've ejaculated all over her. Eunbi gasps surprisedly at the sticky white substance that sprayed so suddenly. There's spurts on her collarbone, chin, and bosom. She looks so satisfyingly dirty that your guilt for arriving earlier almost completely washes away.
Her eyes connect to your tired gaze. Then, she fingers the wet semen and circles them on her nipples. She bites her lip, whimpering a little, but starts to tweak her nipples to deliver shudders of pleasure throughout her body. A drop of cum is swallowed from her finger.
"Eunbi-ya..." You're more than take aback. In a good way. "When did you get so dirty?"
"I had Sakuchan teach me." Her eyes close as she remembers what Sakura did to her. "She was a good tutor."
Sakura? Does she mean Miyawaki Sakura, the girl who wins a lot of the pageants at school? Oh. Well, the two of them do seem particularly close...
"Oppa."
You dash a look towards Eunbi inquisitively. "Yeah?" you ask. You can't believe her glasses have managed to stay on despite the rough fucking.
"I have one last question for you."
"And what might that be?"
Eunbi places her arms on your lap and rests her chin on one of them, tilting her head to the side. "Do you promise to treat me like your good girl?"
She's a seductive force to be reckoned with, one that was more of what she was born with rather than was taught. She climbs onto your lap like she has always known she's fit for it, and cages your sides with her beautiful legs. Her skirt lies on her thighs, a curtain disguising what is yet to come, while her hands drape themselves over your shoulders. They squeeze your tense muscles, yet your form never relaxes. Your body is too caught up with the lack of oxygen.
There she goes again with that pout. Downward tugs at the end of her plump lips, eyes glossy with the ghost of an innocence long gone. The specs allow her to see your hesitant face, so she spices the deal up.
"Do you promise," Eunbi says, "to make this memorable for me? Make it a good first time?"
Jesus, what was Sakura teaching her?
"Of course, Eunbi," is your answer. And apparently, the correct one. The only answer she'd take.
"Correct. For that, you can fill me up."
She has made plenty of requests over the time of the session: requests for you to go easy, to answer her questions correctly... too many to count. The word is starting to sound made up. But your head is only filled with thoughts of fucking her senseless.
Oh, you'll make it memorable for her, alright.
The tension breaks. You go wild, now that this second session won't be interrupted by academic questions. Those stupid questions that shouldn't dictate your worth, nor your future. Your job isn't going to ask you what time fucking Shakespeare was born. So why should you have to spend eternal hours studying for a test paper you're going to fail anyway? Why should you?
But surely there is no reason why you shouldn't fuck Eunbi. There is no reason why you shouldn't insert yourself inside the hole between those slick folds, see the pleasure run through her gorgeous face, and watch those exposed tits bounce. There is no reason for you not to grab her body and trap her against the sofa and take her pussy from between her widespread legs.
So you do it.
Switch positions. Grab Eunbi's shapely hips and turn around swiftly, pinning her down to the sofa. Swiftly enter her quivering form. She's still so hot and tight, you think, with a groan that mixes with Eunbi's moans.
Your brisk actions make her tense around you. She isn't sure if she is going to be able to take it again. Your erection still remains as large as ever. It penetrates her inexperienced body so well that she doesn't think she'll want any other dick to take her this way, even if she's only received one all this time: yours.
Her moans return. From there, you cannot hold back. You pound into Eunbi with gusto. She yelps everytime, squirming to make herself comfortable in this position and to bring herself closer to your cock. Not that it's leaving anytime soon; only a few inches exit with your in-and-out thrusts, driving your leaking mushroom head repeatedly to her cervix. Her cries are as constant as your drills.
You fight against the narrowness of her walls. You thrust in her with the intention to fuck her so good that you make them memorize the shape and length of your dick. Eunbi's tightness isn't a problem, though; it's easier to rub the texture of her walls this way. Easier to make her scream.
Her cum-covered tits now bounce freely. They've been released from the confinement of her bra and buttons earlier, so you are offered the pretty viee of them jiggling as you knock Eunbi up. Semen covers their nipples. It drips down to her toned stomach. You've been put in such a sex-crazed trance by them that it almost steals your attention away from her pleasured face.
Lopsided glasses remain before Eunbi's wide, fluttering eyes. You are using her thighs to pull yourself to her, and to spread them to allow more heavenly access. Her skirt has flown up to her taut tummy. She is such a mess for your cock in every way, yet you still find yourself wildly attracted to her. She's perfect, from her moans to her squirms, her whines and her cries.
"D-don't stop!" Eunbi tells you. There's no "please" attached to the starts or ends of her requests anymore. Her politeness has melted away. Its loss has allowed her to show that her screamed statement isn't a request. No, she's demanding that your thrusts don't falter nor pause. She's demanding for every might you have in your body to be delivered to her in the form of your pumping. "Make me cum, oppa! Make me... hngmph!"
You rub her wet pearl with your thumb, meriting a delightful pursed moan from her. You start to give it harsh and forced flicks. Eunbi responds with several gasped groans that sound higher than before. They're followed by raspier moans, which you didn't expect to love hearing from her. Her screams are better, though, you'd say.
Her celestial form writhes and shifts in its position on your sofa. Eunbi cries out everytime you swipe at her clit again, or throw a spank at her ass, which you only discover now is as equally deserving of appreciation as her tits or face. Every inch of her is perfect. Every inch of her deserves to be loved.
That is precisely why your hands touch everything. You lean over to take one of those pretty nipples in between your fingers and give it a firm squeeze. She sighs delightfully. After kissing her lips and taking in their strawberry bubblegum-like taste, you decide that it is time.
Grab her legs firmly, push them together, then shove them up in the air. Your stomach slaps the curves of her thighs while your dick joins her cervix once more. Eunbi's skirt has no purpose now. At least, not any purpose that is enough to hide her naked obscenity. But you care more for the yells that wickedly corrupt your heart that come from Eunbi's gorgeous set of lips—
For the panicked shake of her legs as your pounds obtain maximum strength—
For the severe cry she makes while her hands yearn and play with her breasts beautifully covered with your semen—
For the look of uncaged wildness in Eunbi's eyes; the one you recognize as the result of a freshly-broken innocence—
—are too much.
"Cum, cum— cumming!" she shrieks. Her whole body spasms and quakes, and you begin to have difficulties keeping her legs, which have been used even in the timespan of half an hour or so to spread for you, in the mating press position. "Oppa, slow down, slow down, can't keep—Ican'tkeepcumm—haaaaah!"
Paint the insides of the little slit with white while Eunbi renders the sofa fabric torn. Tears run down her cheeks. Her fingers, betwixt the red sofa blanket, have gone numb. Breathing becomes a chore; you're still going and going, draining yourself inside her to make the most out of it all.
Then, finally, slide yourself out. Eunbi's pussy has successfully been ejaculated on, just like her breasts and chest. You pray that the next time you find yourself inside her heavenly cunt, one of her name is already "mine."
Nervously, tentatively, lay Eunbi's legs down. Smooth her skirt back down on the pillows that are her thighs. The slightest whine escapes her mouth derived from the soreness. It's her first time, after all—it isn't going to be fine after just a few seconds.
————
"So, uh...." Strangely, you're the one asking the questions. now. Trading places with her, putting yourself in her shoes. Gaze at the exhausted Eunbi on the sofa and the anxiety returns to you. "You want anything? Frozen peas, a blanket, anything?"
"Thank you, but don't try to fool me," says Eunbi, smiling tiredly at what she thinks is your not-so-subtle way of trying to outrun responsibility. Unfortunately for you, responsibility can run nine marathons with the speed of twenty-seven horses.
She tries to spread her legs, but flinches when the pain hits. "You still have a test on T-Tuesday, remember?"
Of course. But you smile anyway. "I'm guessing you don't want another go then?"
A hopeful look passes over her eyes. "Do you still like me?"
Heart thumping against your throat, nod. "Yeah. A lot."
Eunbi nods understandingly. She asks another question that you are surprisingly ready for. "Are you still going to keep me stretched and filled up?"
"Of course. I'm still your oppa, aren't I?"
"And I suppose," Eunbi says quietly, as she looks down a little sullenly, "I'm still your tutor."
Understanding passes between the two of you, without words nor signs. You two dodge glances and avoid dialogue, and you're once again a little scared. You may have fucked Eunbi senselessly and impulsively, but you still have a massive crush on her. Has the sex ruined any chances of a relationship with her?
There's the stab of tomorrow's claws that sink into your skin as early as today. Add the fear that creeps into your heart when you look sideways at Eunbi and realize there is a two-way path with this situation and it does not look easy at all. Everything can go up or downhill from here. There's the phobia making your hands tingle, the shortness of your breath, the sweat on your face.
But there's also Eunbi's head on your shoulder, and her hands sliding into the comfort of yours. And although you still fear the depth the pierce of the future's claws can probe, the monster to whom they belong to doesn't seem so scary at all.
#kpop smut#kpop#smut#izone#izone smut#kwon eunbi#kwon eunbi smut#eunbi#eunbi smut#izone eunbi#izone eunbi smut#male reader#x reader#reader insert#request#iz days of christmas#iz days of christmas day 1
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It’s that time of the year again. What are some of your favorite smuts released in 2023?
Monday of Appreciation: Part 104
Hello everyone, Smite here!
2023 is coming to a close and it's been quite the year, a mixture of "this is a bridge year for greater things to come" and "WE LIVIN' NOW MF!" What is a bit different this year is that the highs weren't as high and the lows weren't as low compared to previous years---maybe that is just me getting older, maybe it's hindsight. Either way, I'm good and this year was good.
But some things are more than just good. I'm of course talking about these writers and their stories that I have featured today. All of them deserve special mention, but I want to focus on two of them specifically.
In a year of great, fantastic and already legendary fics, these two stand out.
Without further ado, let's dive into the final MoA of this year:
-1-
@fanfiction4sooya: Can't Save You Now ft. Chaewon, Kazuha, Sakura
I- I- I just read the damn tags and new I one day had to give this a shot. ff4sooya has crazy ideas, futa galore, different dynamics and kinks, which is SO MY THING. This has Mommy and Daddy involved in an absurd (and absurdly hot) threesome that I couldn't take my eyes off.
Now I definitely need to read more and you should too because I bet there are a bunch of Masterpieces in that long Masterlist!
-2-
@iznsfw: Drunken ft. Olivia Hye
Is it really a Monday of Appreciation post without IZ?
Seriously, what this genius is able to cook up in a commission or in the currently ongoing (HYPE) IZ DAYS OF CHRISTMAS is absolutely incredible. We have long stories with in depth characters and love drama that ends not only smuttily but sweetly. Who the fuck needs books, when you can just binge IZ?
With "Drunken", they have once again hit it out of the FUCKIING park. There is never enough Daddy kink fics, yes, but mine seem like nonsensical cringe porn compared to this beauty of a piece. I love how it plays with my heart, no I'm not crying---okay, now that is hot.
Let me change that: there is three very fucking special stories today!
(I think this might even be better than Levi's Hyeju, wtf)
-3-
@cataboliac: Enkindle ft. Wendy
Firstly: I LOVE YOU CATA, BIG QT!
Secondly: "Enkindle" feels a bit like coming home, like a day in Paradise, like the one person that shines so bright in your life that you don't want it to go. And you know, that is the great thing: this might be Cata's final fic, the farewell, but not only is his life gonna be great and he'll be super happy - we also get to read this again and again, and I'm sure I will one day.
Thank you, Cata, for hanging around!
Thirdly: I'M GONNA KISS YOU, CATA!
-4-
@writerpeach: Delectation ft. Wonyoung, Yujin
1.000 Notes, and it's still not enough for what is my pick for fic of the year (FOTY? FOOTY? There is a scene like that, yep). IZ*ONE truly never dies, but it is IVE and these absolute super stars, bomb shells with flawless faces and different, yet irresistible bodies that have us in a frenzy.
Talking about frenzy, all those 30,699 words are a frenzy. I thought Peach would set it up with a long and painful tease that has us edging the entire time BUT NOPE this has so much fucking smut, so many lines of neediness and horniness, it is impossible to finish in one try or two tries or... I dunno, seven-hundred tries?
It's detailed, it's straight forward, it's sex from every fucking angle, I can never get tired of this. I will go so far and say this is Peach's magnum opus, the GOAT fic by the GOAT writer. At least for that day, I can say this without a doubt.
Peach, you are crazy and thank you for that <3
#PeachPavedTheWay #AnnyeongzForDaddy
#kpop smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#ive smut#izone smut#male reader insert#male reader#idol x idol smut#red velvet smut#wendy smut#loona smut#loosemble smut#olivia hye smut#hyeju smut#wonyoung smut#chaewon smut#yujin smut#sakura smut#le sserafim kazuha smut
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heyyy iz!! top 5 daniel podiums? 😽
hi lau <3 hope you're having a good week!!
okay, top 5 daniel podiums here we go:
1 - Chinese Grand Prix (2018): the way he fucking nearly burst into tears on that podium...bitch what the fuck...........also the fact that he won that race with a spanner wrench that the mechanics had accidentally dropped inside the car when they had to change the engine in between FP3 and qualifying???????? what the fuckkkk man literally won a race with a SPANNER IN THE WORKS
2. Baku (2017): that win was so fucking good. that race is one of my favourites actually (despite not being my favourite win of his) but it had everything from triple overtakes to sewis crimes, it's MWAH. and then the podium with Valtteri (who overtook for p2 on the line) and Lance was the cherry on top.
aLSO WE DON'T TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT MAX AND DANIEL MET MARIAH CAREY ON THAT VERY DAY???????????? THEY MET MARIAH IN 2017 AND TWO YEARS LATER MAX GOT DANIEL A KARAOKE MACHINE AS A SECRET SANTA GIFT WITH THE "ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU" CD???? HAVE I CONNECTED THE DOTS????? SORRY IF THIS IS RANDOM HERE'S A PICTURE
3 - Monza (2021): this one is totes emosh and i cried and yelled and screamed and looked INSANE in front of the tv while it was happening, i still kind of can't believe it did??????????? but everything about it was incredible Lando and his disgusted post shoey face, Zak drinking a shoey, hAPPY MCLAREN FAMILY meanwhile Val in the background looking like pls get me out of here. IT'S PERFECTION.
4 - Canada (2014) or Daniel's first win: SEB WAS WITH HIM AND IT WAS SO CUTE PLEASE
5 - Australian Grand Prix (2014): now LISTEN! I know he was disqualified afterward HOWEVER he wasn't disqualified in my heart and his home podium, the ONLY time he's ever been on the podium (pls can we start manifesting to get this man a home podium again for fucks sake) it was INSANE
Honorable mentions:
- all of his other wins
- his first podium with Renault and how he was so shocked and happy he forgot to do a shoey
- MALASYA 2016
#top 5 wins would be insane but i'm up for it if anyone wants#answered#ask games#top 5#daniel ricciardo#dansebs#long post
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Iz's Glee Fics
hi! welcome to my glee fic masterlist! hope these aren't literally the worst things you've ever read or whatever <3
izwordsoup on ao3
fics all under the cut!
Drabbles:
Kiss Prompt Fills | ao3
a kiss as a promise
~800 words, Klaine
a kiss because the world is saved
~300 words, Klaine
a kiss in relief
~600 words, Klaine
in secrecy; out of anger
2 short chapters, ~1,150 words, Klaine
to gain something; desperately; to shut them up
2 short chapters, ~1,450 words, Klaine
One-Shots:
Home for the Holidays | ao3 link
Pure fluff, holiday-inspired Klaine one-shot.
~1,550 words, Klaine
The Name of the Game | ao3 link
I got inspired after listening to ABBA's The Name of the Game one day and started writing this Klaine one-shot featuring badboy!Blaine, the song which inspired the fic, and Kurt and Blaine both being idiots who haven't admitted they like each other yet despite the current nature of their relationship.
~2,650 words, Klaine
A "Safe" Choice | ao3
A self-indulgent Klaine one-shot inspired by a weekly event at my work place in which an armored service technician from the cash-handling company comes to check the safe every Wednesday, and there are a couple technicians that everyone at work agrees are attractive.
~1,500 words, Klaine
3 a.m. | ao3
He's a mess. God, he's a fucking mess. Kurt didn't expect to find himself literally stumbling out of a bar at 3 a.m. but here he was. Drunk and lonely and sad under a streetlight on a New York City sidewalk outside of a bar at 3 a.m. How did he let himself get here?
~3,800 words, Klaine
Almost Hallmark | ao3
Blaine is homesick during his first Christmas season in New York City. Then he finds a quaint bakery and the handsome baker inside.
Written for Klaine Secret Santa 2022 exchange
~2,200 words, Klaine
Zip Tease | ao3
A college party where everyone is a little drunker than they should be, an open fly, and a dare.
Inspired by a post and brainstormed by The Lima Bean discord crew.
Klaine, ~900 words
Multi-Chapter:
stay tuned!
Series:
Running in Circles, Coming up Tails:
Running in Circles, Coming up Tails | ao3
Kurt and Adam are married with a seven-year-old daughter, Ellie. "Happily married" is another question.
Ellie takes piano lessons from none other than Blaine Anderson, who also happens to be a good friend of Kurt's since college.
What happens to them when Adam goes to England to star in a West End musical, leaving Kurt and Ellie in New York? What happens when Blaine becomes a more frequently-seen figure in Kurt and Ellie's lives due to Ellie's piano schedule?
Completed, 10 chapters, starts Kadam, Klaine endgame, ~15,500 words
"Just Friends" | ao3
Kurt had promised him many times that he and Blaine Anderson were just friends. But Adam knew from experience what could happen with "just friends." He knew what could happen if "just friends" got too close. He was wary of "just friends."
A one-shot, from Adam's perspective, exploring what might cause someone to cheat on their partner; and indirectly, how that might affect a relationship; and even more indirectly, why Adam might view Blaine as a threat.
~1,000 words
Things I Didn't Tell You | ao3
A collection of cut scenes and conversations from within the Running in Circles, Coming up Tails universe/timeline
More to be added as I think of cut scenes I want to include
Ellie's Version | ao3
A look at some scenes from Running in Circles, Coming up Tails and after that main timeline, but from Ellie's perspective.
~2,500 words
Worth Every Love Song | ao3
4 times Blaine and Kurt talk about marriage + the 1 time he actually asks Kurt to marry him
~2,850 words
New Adventures:
New Adventures Summer Camp | ao3
Kurt doesn't know why he agreed to be a camp counselor with Finn for the summer, he doesn't even like camping. In other words, Kurt is pretty sure this summer is going to suck. Enter cute fellow camp counselor Blaine Anderson.
Written for Klaine Word Scramble 2022
Completed, 14 chapters, ~26,400 words, Klaine
run away to mars | ao3
"And on the nights when I get a little homesick, would you look outside and describe the stars for me?”
or, how a broken-up Kurt and Blaine begin to find their way back together.
completed, 2 chapters, ~3,200 words, Klaine
setting fire to our insides for fun:
no sweet dream (but a hell of a nightmare) | ao3
Quinn was tired of Lima and the face she'd put on for years. Kurt felt the same. It only made sense for them to reinvent themselves.
~1,250 words, Character Study, Kuinn Friendship
physical fatality | ao3
A mid-summer house party led Kurt into a summer fling filled with fire: desire and anger, equally. But fire meant that someone could get burned.
~5,500 words, Kurtbastian
knife with your heart up your sleeve | ao3
Kurt just wanted to finish senior year unbothered and get the hell out of Lima. What he didn’t need was to get attached to someone new. And then Blaine Anderson walked into his life.
WIP, 11 chapters, Klaine
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Cool Whip For Alex Manes, 10k
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Characters: Michael Guerin, Alex Manes, Max Evans, Gregory Manes
Additional Tags: Dog Tags, Military, Air Force, Mechanic Michael Guerin, Alex Manes Deserves Nice Things, Good Brother Gregory Manes, Good Brother Max Evans, Feel-good, Some angst, Lost Decade (Roswell New Mexico), Michael Guerin Loves Alex Manes, Alex Manes Loves Michael Guerin, POV Michael Guerin, Malex Secret Santa 2021, 12 Days of Malex 2021, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Vomiting, The Toolshed (Roswell New Mexico), Minor Noah Bracken/Isabel Evans | Isobel Evans, Kyle Valenti's Hubcaps, Mention of Wyatt Long, Therapy, Happy Ending, Pie, Christmas Dinner
Summary:
Max takes drunk and battered Michael to work on a vehicle in the desert. The vehicle belongs to the military and Alex Manes is driving it. It's been 4 years since the last time Michael saw Alex. Michael cannot keep it together around Alex and Alex gifts him the dog tags from around his neck, citing that he's a non-combatant and doesn't need them. Years later, Gregory Manes knocks some facts about dog tags into Michael when he finds Alex's tags on Michael's rearview mirror. Michael learns to cherish Alex even more. Also, someone forgot to bring Alex's favorite pie topping to the Christmas party and Michael isn't having it. (And Alex reacts to Michael and the dog tags after dinner for a touching moment that's an angst/fluff frenzy.)
For @bloodspeckledraphael
Michael loudly swore when he felt the collision between the back of his head and the molding of the bench seat in the back of Max’s patrol car. He lifted a hand to cool metal before him to brace himself from getting the same punishment for his sweaty face. Then, closing his eyes, Michael told the spins to go away as the Deputy’s vehicle bumped along the desert road in the hours between midnight and dawn. At least, that’s where Michael put the time. He wasn’t entirely sure where or when he was, but he knew who was responsible for jarring him awake from his drunken stupor.
“Welcome back, Michael,” Deputy Max Evans said in his slow drawl. The beefed-up communications radio beside Max crackled with tidbits of typical late-night chatter as he navigated them out into the middle of nowhere. There were no tell-tale sights that Michael could surmise into a specific location. The moonlit hills of dirt and rock that plunged into darkness at their hardscrabble valleys in the distance.
“Are you finding your accommodations to be sufficient?” Max asked in a lofty tone as he surely meant to mock Michael. “May I get you a mint for your pillow?”
Snorting, Michael had a leering yet exhausted smile on his face when he leaned toward the steel links that made up the screen between him and the back of Max’s head. “You know Iz doesn’t fall for the mints and cologne anymore, and not with the amount I drank tonight.”
“She’s never fallen for them, Michael. It was more for Noah’s benefit than yours,” Max pointed out as the vehicle smoothly swung around a curve. The turn took them toward more darkness, more desert, and more dirt roads that were no good for the hangover sprouting up through Michael’s throat to dry his tongue and thump his head with a dull ache.
The eye-roll Michael gave behind Max was more a flutter of his lashes as he pushed away from Max and dropped back against the rigid polymer seat. The top rail of the mold, where it met the additional steel screen behind Michael, was particularly irritating. The rhythmic pain from hitting the piece with each bump made this long trip into the desert seem more like torture than a test of patience.
“Noah would fall for mints.”
Michael’s words came out as an afterthought before he realized why they might be out in the desert at this hour. But then, his sentences came in a rush.
“Shit, Max, are you bringing me out here because Isobel blacked out, again? Is that why you dragged me out of the drunk tank? Can you feel her?! Is she conscious?!”
Pushed up against the screen again, Michael was almost spitting on the back of Max’s seat. By contrast, Max was relaxed and had been the entire time, which confused and infuriated Michael’s addled brain.
“Isobel is fine,” Max replied with the hint of a chuckle. “And honestly, I’d rather not think about her consciousness because she’s staying at Noah’s tonight.”
“They’re having lots of premarital sex, and she’s making that boy into a man,” Michael said cooly without missing a beat. However, his dirty fingernails still surreptitiously pulled at the crosses of metal on the screen.
Max nodded, slow and stiff, at Michael’s words. Moments later, a large jeep covered in desert camouflage sprung up on the edge of the headlight beams.
“So, you do want me to fix a disabled vehicle?” Michael asked with light surprise.
Max nodded.
“Because it’s now Sunday, and there are no sober or working mechanics at this hour that you could bring out here?”
Max nodded again as Michael repeated what he initially believed was Max’s excuse to drag him out of jail. There was always time for another “lesson” about not making waves when you were an alien hiding among humans. The patrol car slowed as they got closer to the jeep, which was huge, and it didn’t take a clear mind to know this was a military-issue vehicle.
“They could’ve easily gotten a tow back to Base, Max. So what’s going on?”
Having already put the car in neutral, Max pushed a button on the dash that kept the engine running and grabbed the keys and his white Stetson. He then opened the door and stepped out with a sigh, and something mumbled under his breath that Michael didn’t catch.
“Hey! I’m not going to be a mechanic for Chaves County and the Air Force unless I know why!”
When Michael started shouting, Max shut the driver’s side door and walked into the headlight beams with his bow-legged Deputy stance. Michael was equal parts annoyed and tired at the white knight stereotype.
Scooting back, Michael focused on the door handle outside of the polymer and steel prison of the patrol car. Michael refused to be distracted when the driver’s door on the military jeep opened, and someone of average height and slim build hit the ground boots-first. Max went toward the airman with an outstretched hand. There was a brief pause before the airman met Max’s hand with his own for a shake and stepped into the headlight beams as well.
Michael’s head jerked, and the steel screens gave agitated rattles in their frames. He could recognize Alex Manes in those disgusting desert fatigues without a hint of the beautiful man’s face in the light to confirm his presence. The way he stood and carried himself, and the way Michael was suddenly a caged animal in the Deputy’s car. That damn uniform, though! The one that Alex had sworn to Michael he wasn’t going to wear. That he would pursue his music career and not do this to himself, Alex had never wanted to be a Manes Man. How quickly those plans had changed with Michael’s presence in Jesse Manes’ toolshed.
But Michael couldn’t bear to look away.
Not wanting to close his eyes or even blink and miss the sight of Alex Manes before him, Michael stared ahead. He watched as Alex flashed a brilliant and oh-so-rare smile at Max as they undoubtedly made greetings like the old friends they were. How wonderful for them. They could be seen in public together. No one would question Alex’s motivations when he was with someone like Max Evans.
Then, Alex walked toward the car.
Michael’s chest tightened and began to ache with each new breath as he tried to catch them. Pining for love lost was going to kill him one day. Michael knew it. He also knew Alex probably couldn’t see him in the dark in the back of the cruiser, but he still felt like they were meeting gazes, and Michael was on high alert for Alex’s sake.
Michael hadn’t told a single person that he’d been with Alex Manes nor that it had been a romantic, sexual, and emotional relationship. An abuse survivor relationship. His healthy or unhealthy relationship with a lover wasn’t anyone’s business, not even Max and Isobel. Michael was also confident that Alex didn’t want his friends, coworkers, and ranking officers to know he was gay. Nor would Alex like to acknowledge that this thing between him and Michael was never going away. Michael refused to become a memory. He didn’t care how many times Alex left and broke him again. Maybe, someday Michael would get a handle on how Alex made him feel physical pain with a mere glance or word. After Michael’s years in abusive foster homes and being around neglectful guardians, he figured he should have no problem numbing himself to this pain, too. If only that were how this pain worked.
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#malex#malexsanta#bloodspeckledraphael#roswell new mexico#alex manes#michael guerin#max evans#gregory manes#out of curls
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IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 1 - Kwon Eunbi
IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut
21,183 words
Categories | best friend!Eunbi, facefucking, cum swallowing, against the wall, anal
The most unrealistic thing about this, besides getting to fuck Eunbi, is that she has sex with glasses on.
“Two things. I need you to tell me two things before I kill you in front of everyone. And trust me, I’m very good with a gun.”
“Oh no,” you say grumpily, and a little more sarcastically, while you're gathering your things into the gray backpack you’ve used through its tatters. “How will I ever see the light of day again?”
Eunbi barely looks intimidating anyway in the toga that sags around her small body. The fabric’s a blackish-blue waterfall that drags on the ground. You’re surprised mud hasn’t done its wicked way with it. It began raining earlier, see, and now, except for the mud as evidence, it's as if it never happened. The heat has become too much.
Everything is too much.
“You won’t,” Eunbi says, tongue between her teeth, “but save yourself for once. Tell me what’s going on.”
Right above the garment, her long tresses fall over her shoulders. Earlier last year, she had it cut and everyone fell for her instantly. But you’ve always taken the speedy growth of her hair a victory for your side.
No victories right now though. It’s supposed to be a grand day—the scam that is college has finally run its course, and today you ought to celebrate and throw your cap in the air like everyone else.
But you’re still completely, royally pissed off.
Turn your back. Clear answer, with other possible variations that basically say the same thing: I’m not telling you shit. Nope. Stop bugging me. Brat.
She follows, and she’s a shadow behind you who’s too pretty to be one. But you lengthen your steps. Hope she doesn’t pursue you, but she’s always done that. Since you were kids on the playground, she’s never let you deal with things on your own. It’s forever been Eunbi will help you, Eunbi will stay with you, Eunbi will talk for you.
Why must that knowledge swirl a puzzling mix of emotions in you? She has not once left you alone, and yet here you are, forcing her to do so.
A pair of leather shoes and high platforms (which give way to the illusion that she’s barely shorter than you) pave through the cobblestone ground of the campus you’ll never dream of returning to. You say that yet you and Eunbi are the only other few graduates remaining on the premises. Why? It’s not like you have anything or anyone to be melancholic about.
She walks in the corner of your line of vision. Alright, maybe someone.
You’ve tried to avoid eye contact but you turn to her anyway. She’s always been this easy on the eyes, even when you were high schoolers with wild hormones and sensitive young hearts. Sharp nose, intelligent brown eyes, and pretty smile—she could’ve been a real heartbreaker back then if she weren’t hanging out with you. She could’ve been everything, because this town is too simple, too small for a girl of her caliber.
Turn your eyes away before she could notice. Broken out of your train of thought, you start to notice how your bag knocks your spine repeatedly. Painfully. With the way your notebooks from years and years ago are bumping around in there, you’d think you were carrying a luggage good enough to give you a week’s worth of supplies.
“Ugh.” Eunbi pinches her nose irritably, allows the sounds to continue for a good three seconds, then pulls the source off you. "Dumbass. Alright, now tell—”
“No. Become a nun. Live a good life. Go eat ice cream with Chaewon or something.”
“She likes mint chocolate, so no. I’m never eating that shit.”
“You’ll live.”
“Oh, I will”—she taps your bag, smiling evilly—”and I’ll take the bag with me.”
You sigh loudly. “Eunbi.”
Oh no, don’t get it wrong: she’s always like this. It's not just today that she pushes your buttons, catty with her negotiations and even more so when you turn them down. She discreetly takes control with a sleight of hand, and you never see it coming. You wish luck to whoever smug kindergartner she’ll be an educator to in the future. She’ll quickly show him his place, just like she’s shown you yours.
“What?” she says with a derisive smirk. She pulls on the arms of the backpack to boost its weight up. “No tell, no bag.”
At this point—
“I don’t give a fuck, Eunbi,” you spit. "You have bigger things to worry about.”
Pause. You briefly consider telling her how your grand day was shattered by your own self and thinking, but you don’t want to bother her. She's your best friend. You shouldn't be making her listen to your woes.
Close your mouth; you didn’t even realize it was hanging open for a while.
You exhale through your nostrils. “Do yourself a favor and take care of something else.”
You walk away. That was supposed to be the end of the story. It's the hashtag at the end of an article, the death of the conversation. But wide strides can’t keep her from coercing an answer out of you.
You know that because she’s suddenly pulled you by the wrist then so close to herself that even your cloaks can’t bar yourselves from each other. Her body presses below your chest. Her stern eyes hush you. You can quite literally feel her breathing.
“I think I can handle it,” she says, gaze steady and chin lifting, “much more if it’s you.”
Okay, so maybe you underestimated how intimidating she can get.
She’s a small girl, lying her way into five foot three, but she’s surprisingly strong. You’re more than aware of that to avoid testing if her palm on your heart is sturdy. Her fierce glare, needling into your integrity, is something new. Frightening, too. Her jaw—(oh, and you can never give that perfectly cut line it’s incredibly lucky to possess a normal glance)—is tight with determination.
For a moment, you think you know how to speak but just forgot to completely.
You get the hang of it after a few seconds when you crack a smile. “Can’t tell you anything if you got your hands on me, little raindrop.”
Eunbi squints her eyes, then folds her arms neatly. “A silver rain drop. And I’m not little, I’m one sixty flat.”
“Take that cap off and we’ll see.”
You’re not exactly a top student, but you’re smart enough to run away before she whacks you with her rolled diploma.
-
(It somehow lightens your mood, because if there’s anything you love more than your phone and street food, it’s Eunbi’s tiny, challenging self trying to one you up. Her light punches are like package peanuts trying to make a dent in you. And it’s just so adorable seeing her face turn dark as she aims for you, and fails.
Oh, and it’s all in good banter. It wouldn’t be a friendship if those jabs were spiteful. There are a lot of relationships out there, both platonic and not so, where insults are masked behind “jokes” and jokes behind insults—you’re glad that doesn’t count for you and her.
But even if we’re to say that Eunbi’s cornering you to the wall, suddenly having grown taller than you, and snarls, with a knife to your throat, “Say good night forever,” you’d kiss her and tell her: “I won’t let the bedbugs bite.”)
-
"Two, please. Thank you."
Slip the paper bills in the vendor's brown, rough hand and slap yours back on Eunbi's shoulder. You’re still surprised at the bareness you feel, then you remember she's since stuffed her toga in your backpack because of the heat. Now she’s wearing a sundress that flows around her like water.
Look at her discreetly. You’re wondering how she managed to hide all… that. The fabric fits and compliments her figure too much to go unnoticed. You have to pretend to be curious about the boiling process of the eomuk again to avoid staring at her slim arms.
"I still don't get why you call me that," she says. She pulls the drooping strap of her dress back up her shoulder, and you swear you’re gonna lose it.
Take deep breaths. You can do this. "Call you what?"
"You know." She daintily taps away a bead of sweat from her forehead and looks up at you. "'Little raindrop.'"
You return her stare eye for an eye. You have to admit it was a feeble attempt. Whenever you look at her, you're overcome with the realization that she's just so beautiful. Her brows are naturally curved and shaded, and there’s just the tiniest dimple at the side of her mouth when she smiles hard. Who in the world just has a face like that?
But you can't dwell on it. It's a dangerous premise, and you're a rightful coward.
"Ah." Your fingers tap comfortable rhythms on her skin. "Because… hm. Bi means rain, right? And you’re small, a.k.a little. So there you have it."
A crowd sifts through the streets and roads opposite your university, and occasionally daring motorists. Graduates fill the sidewalks to purchase street food. It's been this cramped since forever. You can't believe this is the last time you'd ever see this commotion: nameless faces that have matured through the years occupying every space, scentful smoke that wafts in the air, and, of course, the familiar sight of these stalls on wheels catering to young'uns like you short on cash.
Now that you think it over once more, perhaps you'll miss this place more than you thought you would.
"Well, would you say it, uh…” Eunbi taps her chin. “Hm, derogatively?"
"Oh, come on," you say, shaking your head emphatically, "I would never."
"Good, because I just lost your bag."
Your eyelids suddenly stop drooping. Realize only this second that you haven't felt torn fabric on the shoulder you’ve been caressing.
"Eunbi, what the—"
"Kidding, it's right here." Eunbi lifts it up in the air cheekily. "Gotcha."
"Oh, fuck off," you groan. Push her away, but not so much that she's out of arm's length. There are people whose intentions aren't so nice in this crowd.
Eunbi's adorable, you have to admit. Every day that rises is April Fools Day for her. She loves pulling pranks on you and commits to the bit perfectly. It’s been like this since… forever. It’s like you were born knowing her.
With all that fake innocence on her face when she tells you a white lie for her prank’s sake, she could be an actress. For a moment, you wonder what you'll do if she does become one, if she finds out that she's more than this place is worth. Would she leave you with no warning? Make a name for herself and never bother to reach out?
You gulp a little. That could happen even without the entertainer job. You've been friends with her for ages. One day, she'll grow tired of you and seek brighter horizons. Finer places. Better men.
"You alright there?" Eunbi asks.
You envy her for a lot of things—her charm, her easy way of making new friends, those legs that she’s worked hard to tone. But right now, you’re jealous because she isn’t privy to all those things that run in your mind about wanting to do things to her. Stupid things like hold her hand, tell her something you shouldn’t, the works.
Jealousy won’t amount to anything, so you just nod. It's not like there's much to say that you won't be embarrassed of saying later.
"Well—"
Just in time, the kind vendor raises two eomuks from the bubbling broth. The delicious scent makes your mouth water. "There you go," he says in his usual jolly way that always makes you laugh. "Congrats on the graduation!"
"Thanks!" Eunbi says, always the first to be grateful. She takes hers and the aforementioned dimple on her cheek shows itself again. Your chest squeezes.
"Don't forget me when you're rich." His jovial face almost looks sentimental. "One for the gentleman and one for his girlfriend."
Your smile fades into a nervous line. "She's not my girlfriend," you say carefully.
It's more embarrassing each time you have to say it. Are you too close with her? Probably; your arm is always around her and she's one of the few consistent friends you have. She's been by your side longer than anyone. People are gonna think something’s going on along the way.
The vendor nods mockingly, as if to say “yeah, sure,” and winks at Eunbi. She winks back, but fails to halfway—her left eye scrunches up.
"Don't listen to him," you tell her. You walk away from the crowd; it's suddenly begun to feel warmer than usual. "He likes to play around a lot. Even in first year he was like that.”
“Eh. It's not like he said anything bad.” She sinks her teeth into the skewered food and shrugs.
"It's invasive."
"Invasive," she repeats thoughtfully, (chewing thoughtfully, too.) “Okay. But how?”
"Because… ‘cause…" Suddenly, you find there's no appropriate reason you could dream up to justify your uneasiness. "It's, you know, strange when people do that."
“I don’t mind, honestly.”
You find that you swallow on nothing rather than the delicious treat you’re holding.
The place becomes too much, with the heated smoke eventually making Eunbi hack a cough and the sweaty people surrounding you more than they should. So you squeeze between them with her and go on for a resolute walk down the road. Just a few blocks up ahead, you can see the sun setting. It reflects back and pours a hefty amount of light on your figures. Your shadows synchronize with your steps.
“You don’t?” you ask, just to make sure you heard her right. The possibility of her being so comfortable with you that she isn’t bothered to be called yours… it’s a lot to handle. She shouldn’t just place that on your shoulders and expect you not to buckle.
Try to keep your knees from folding at the idea as you walk down the familiar streets. The roads reside in a subdivision that's humbler than the others, hence the houses being small and more trees standing above you. But you don't mind—you need a break from the urban place anyway.
Your university stays a little near the border between them. That's why more street food stalls come up to view and a few thrift stores. Is this the last time you'll come here?
The last time you'll see her?
“No. Why would I? Alright, now that we’ve got things all nice and settled…” Eunbi takes your wrist. Tightly. She's not going anywhere, and neither are you. “Back to telling.”
“Telling you what?”
“You really wanna play dumb with me?” She presses the point of her skewer to your stomach, seizing you by the waist. “Get those words out. Now.”
"Hit me."
"Two things, right? So answer me." Eunbi's fingers wrap tighter around your flesh. "Why were you crying in the bathroom? What happened?"
Oh.
That.
You're quiet. You look only forward, not daring to meet Eunbi's eyes. If anything, the stick could dig into your guts and it would be infinitely better than having to admit you’re weak. You’ll have to tell her one day. You’ll have to admit that you’re not a better guy just because you’re the only one who has the balls to approach her—you’re just like the rest of them. Nothing special. Grades barely there. Average, probably not even so. Everything but nothing.
“I wasn’t crying,” you say. You can’t remember what happened anyway, but saying what you do leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.
The eomuk stick drops to the ground with barely a click. “Are you lying?”
It’s rare that her voice gets solemn. It’s less rare that you rush behind words to cover yourself.
You fix the mortarboard on her head so that it doesn’t slip past her brows. The staff didn’t quite take her measurements properly, so you had to tip the cap backwards. Good enough. “Think you can figure that one out yourself, Eunbi.”
You give her a look that tells her all that she needs to know. It’s not like you can explain properly with this state of mind. What else can you say?
What else can she say?
Perhaps:
“Please.”
Everything stops.
Eunbi takes your hand, which looks large in comparison to her pale one, and traces a finger along your knuckles. Look down at them—those are the days that’ll go by, the months that’ll lose themselves into the void of timeless time. It could never be the same if fate wills itself to change one of these days, and you wouldn’t even know it. Not even a warning.
“It’s just me.” Her voice thins, and you figure out that she’s sort of like you, too: it’s not rare for her to hide behind words and wit. “I’m your friend. You can tell me anything. Please tell me what happened, okay? I hate seeing you get upset.”
You wish you could tell her that it’s the same on your end. Eunbi’s the girl you let climb in your lap after a thunderstorm provoked her, the girl you comforted after she had her heart broken by the man she was convinced was the one. Through it all, you tried to be strong for her, but there’s little foundation to build from.
The side of your mouth twitches upward. “Do you now?”
Eunbi’s shoulders descend as they release a tired little sigh. She nods, refusing to say anything until you take the lead.
“Well, if you want to hear the whole story,” you say as you ring an arm around her, “I was already having a pretty shit day to begin with.”
“Why?” She chews on her lip. Pink gets on her teeth.
“Didn’t feel like I deserved to graduate.”
See, there are a lot of justifications as to why you didn’t deserve to go on stage and receive your diploma. You aren’t worthy of this toga and hat when you’ve barely accomplished anything compared to the others. They’ve already scored internships and some even sealed some higher positions in well-off companies. You, on the other hand, haven’t got anything going on for you.
That rings true for as far back as first year. You cheated (rarely) but still barely passed. Studied but never got the answers right for the test. Kept a strong face but you’re still in pieces on the inside. Now that you’re graduating, you’re the same guy after all that time.
“I had a… very weird time in there trying to get myself together,” you say. “I did nothing to make mom proud. I just bullshit my way through college.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Eunbi hums quietly. Is that her side pressed to your hip? You suck in a breath.
“I mean, sure, but look at how far they got. I’m still in square one.”
“Different speeds for different people,” she says wisely, looking down at her shoes that begin their steps at the heel. “You don’t have to beat yourself up for going at your own pace.”
You chuckle deprecatingly. “When I’m a dumbass, I should.”
“You’re not.”
“You literally admitted you had a hunch I was stupid when I thought your name was Geumbi.”
“No, no, that was a long time ago. I was like, fourteen. It wasn’t my fault. And neither was it yours.”
She steals a bite from your food. A withdrawal from her as she finishes her robbery and yet you bring her back. Do it by stopping, then wiping away the broth on her lower lip with your thumb. Where did that come from?
Eunbi’s frozen. For a moment, she says nothing. She pauses, then looks up at you. Just a simple look from her makes you weak. There are galaxies in her eyes.
“Actually,” says Eunbi, hand floating to your wrist—her voice is soft, “you’ve got to stop thinking everything’s your fault.”
Where should your touch go when all it yearns for is hers?
It's easier said than done, too. Therapy fills your brokenness yet it drains out anyway. All those methods and you can't stick to one. Everything bad that happens is your fault. It's like you're connected to them all.
“I’ll try." Your words barely pass audibility. Should you be ashamed? "I don’t like this either.”
Eunbi presses her lips to the back of your hand then goes on strolling like she didn’t just save you from another spiral. Haughtiness rides her tone. Yep, she knows she’s your anchor. “You can start by carrying your own bag instead of me doing—” She pauses. All the sass is gone; just pure fear. “Shit.”
Your forehead creases and you look around. Nothing out of the normal, just the birds of seldomness and trees that sway with the wind. “What?”
“Don’t be mad at me.” Eunbi bites her lip anxiously. “Promise me. Please.”
“What is it?”
She tells you.
-
“Eunbi lost your backpack?”
For the hundredth time: “Yes.”
"Like actually?"
"Yep."
“With the notes and sketches you had? What the hell?”
“God, you don’t have to rub it in like that.” You navigate through the streets and try to catch onto anyone perhaps holding a familiar satchel. Nobody fits the description. “We didn’t notice until we were alone.”
You and Eunbi do the very thing characters in horror movies shouldn’t do: you split up. She returns to the food vendors to ask around. They’d cater better to a face like that. You’re left to do the hard work and follow random people to see if they’ve brought away a bag. You really should have reversed roles, but Eunbi’s gone now. You can’t call it off.
The crowds are starting to dissipate, but that doesn’t make your hunt for your bag easier. Whoever stole it must have thought it was his lucky day. That shit was thrifted off a store, but it could sell for thousands if refined just right.
All those documents, lecture takeaways, pencils…
It’s not like they matter anymore. You wouldn’t dream of going back to school, so they won’t have much use in the long run. But those things played a major part in your life, especially in college. Losing it feels like missing a piece of a puzzle you spent nights completing.
“That’s so damn irresponsible of her. Not like her, too. She's a fucking—”
“—adult. Like me. Yes. We’ve gone over this.”
You must look like a local pervert right now, peering at people’s lower sides in search of your treasure. You hope they don’t get you wrong. Women are already giving you dirty looks though. Shit, you’re going nowhere with this.
“You don’t have to defend her every time she does something,” mutters your friend Sakura from the other line. Her accent has lost its origins a long time ago. Now, it carries teasing scorn.
Where the fuck could your bag be? Turn your head to the right, then to the left. There you go, you’re a fucking bobblehead doll. Feel even more ridiculous. It’s all a little humiliating, exposing a vulnerability to people you don’t know. Hey, look at me! I can’t find something important! And I can’t ask you for help because that would mean I’m a shameless piece of shit with no dignity and I’m too childish to graduate and—
“I’m not defending her, Miyawaki,” you blurt out, a little louder than you’d like. More dirty and judgmental looks. Always the centerpiece, you, and for all the wrong reasons. “Go back to gaming, can you?”
“Ha. You’re the one who called me and said, ‘Oh no, I’m with Eunbi again and I’m so in love with her!’” Sakura lets out a smug little laugh. “Just ask her out, dumbass. That way you won’t have to play attorney all the time.”
“I’m not asking her out, dumbass. She's just a friend.”
“Ask her out or Hyewon will. Hyem’ll say shit like, ‘She can lose my bag anytime—“
“Hey.” Eunbi comes up empty-handed. Her words are heavier with each passing fragment. She doesn’t have to say them for you to know her search was fruitless, just like yours was. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see it. I asked around, too.”
Your hopes are dashed. “Call you back,” you whisper into the phone.
“Tell me how the date goes!”
With a small beep, Sakura is gone, (thankfully.) (And so is her song about you and your best friend sitting in a tree doing something so lewd you could only spell it out.) It’s just you and Eunbi, in the gentle end-of-September sunset.
“Now, would you look at that.” Eunbi laughs sarcastically. Sweat usually drips from the side of the face, right? Not the front? She throws her hands up and places them back down her sides anyway. “I guess I did lose the bag after all.”
Something’s wrong. What is it?
You stare at her, not knowing what to say. It is kind of ironic in a biting-you-back-in-the-ass way that Eunbi’s kidding threat about losing your stuff actually came true.
“You sure you didn’t see it anywhere?” you ask. You’re starting to lose determination. And for what? You did say you didn’t give a damn about it earlier. How easily your words come to you when you only think of yourself.
“W-well—”
Yep, there's definitely something wrong. Kwon Eunbi doesn’t stutter. Unless she’s mocking Minju, who’s almost always nervous, or does aegyo as a punishment, she doesn’t trip over her words. “What?”
“Fuck it, I’m sorry, okay?”
Tears come too easily even to the gutsy Eunbi. It’s always been her Achilles’ heel. She’s a great and friendly leader, but one nice word that hits her right where it needs it or a bad day has her reduced to sobs. She smiles through them, wiping the teardrops with the end of her wrist.
“And don’t tell me it’s fine just because I’m crying,” she says. The frustration gets to her and soon her sobs attract attention. “It was, a-a shitty thing to do on my end. I know it’s not okay, but I’m sorry.”
She’s a tearful painter of emotions under a night littered with starry skies.
She doesn’t have to hold the brush for the two of you all the time.
Take the brush from her just like how you take her into your arms. Eunbi says not to absolve her of her sin, but you’re a god whose mercy merges with bias. You like her too much. There’s something that pulls at your chest whenever she breaks down.
The tension partially leaves her stiff shoulders. She sniffles, and it’s an attack straight to your heart. It’s so rare that she becomes so weak.
“Eunbi—”
She shakes her head before you could go on. “Don’t say it. Please. Let me make it up to you.”
“I’ll say it anyway. It’s fine. I can’t use the stuff in there anyway.”
“I said no. Hmph.” Her tears blot the front of your shirt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I would cry like this. Don't feel guilty, okay? Okay? I just don’t like giving you a hard time.”
“You never could.” You’d trade more than a backpack for Eunbi’s wellbeing.
Somehow, Eunbi cries more. Her hug circles your waist in almost a chokehold, and you realize that the Kwon Eunbi from years back—the one who made everyone call her Madison, the one who’s always glued to your side—is still here. She’s just older, a little braver, and prettier than you could ever imagine.
Emphasis on the last. Her lashes carry her tears in a biblically beautiful manner, like you ought to kneel and venerate her. The southward curl of her lips is so cute yet painful that you’d give anything to see them lift again.
“You don’t have to say I didn’t do anything wrong…” she tells you quietly. You could hear the guilt infecting her words, evident in the cracks of her voice.
“Well.” You touch your mouth on her hairline. “You have a way of making me say it.”
There’s no mourning for your bag. You suspect that there was none at all, perhaps just shock? Must be why you’re cradling her, like a child would to a doll at night, and letting her feel your touch. Maybe the way she’s closing herself into your embrace is platonic, because at the end of day, you’re still friends. But you don’t feel her breath on your skin for a while after you indirectly forgive her.
Eunbi lifts her face from the comfort of your front. Pouting, she then laughs a little. “What are you doing? You don’t have to be so sweet.”
“I could be sweeter,” you offer. She sighs loudly, tired of your mischief; you grin and pat the small of her back. “Come on, let’s go home.”
The night has downed the temperature, and now the breeze whips her small form back and forth. It’s too cold for her to be walking with no sleeves or at least trousers. So you lift your toga up and slip it around her. It’s bigger than the one she had and lost with your bag. Her hands barely fight their way out of being hidden under the long blue sleeves.
Her eyes reduce to suspicious slits while a smile pastes itself on her lips. “You’re a flirt, you know that?”
You shrug casually. “Born and raised.”
“That’s not how you use it,” Eunbi says, wiping the last of her tears.
"Might as well go on. I opened the can of worms, now I'll lie in it."
"Jesus."
"What? I made my bed more than I could, now I'll eat it."
“Wow, it’s like you never listened to professor June.”
Wasn’t it just afternoon a few minutes ago? The sky has become a blueish black landscape. The only sources that provide illumination to the streets and alleys are the streetlights and moon, plus the twelve especially bright stars etched into the map of constellations.
“Okay, miss Oh My Gadnis,” you fire back. She gives you a dirty look. You immediately take it back.
She throws her head back and lets darkness take over her vision for a while. Gulp. The light welcomes itself back and she lets out a prolonged, wistful breath. Tiny sobs glaze it. “It’s Minju’s fault. She was always shouting that in the dorm. Makes me kind of miss her.”
In the last years of university, Eunbi made friends with eleven girls. She was the leader of their friend group, the one who made plans and provided solutions. But as graduation crept closer and eventually caught up with them, she won’t be seeing them much again.
“I can always drive you to your meet-ups. Didn’t get a driver’s license for nothing.”
“You don’t have to. I already fucked up your day.”
“You didn’t. It’s just a bag, little raindrop.”
The chilly atmosphere tracks your nighttime conversation with your best friend. What do the songbirds, sleeping yet eavesdropping, think of you and her? Does the moon brighten to increase your shadows? It’s like they’re listening in.
She looks down at the edges of her shoes as they mark their path to home. “What brand was it? I’ll buy you a new one. I-I’ll send the notes to you.”
“No can do. Just do this one thing.”
And now, the night quiets.
When time has chipped away at the lack of lines on your faces and brought forth hell, you’ll be there. Together. You won’t go back here anymore, but there will be prettier places for you and her. It’s what you pray for though you’re not all that spiritual, but you know it’s what you want.
“Let’s… be friends until we’re old and miserable,” you ask of her. Even admitting that you want to be with her makes you shy, and you’re anything than that when you’re around her. So why is this happening? Why are you doing this? “Spend more time together. Doesn’t have to be something grand.”
Eunbi blinks at you. There are undertones to your words, some kind of hidden message a veteran film critic could pick apart if your life were a movie. You’re asking her to be with you, yet there’s depths to it, almost like you’re telling her another thing.
“Sure,” she whispers, nodding. She can do that.
Again, a lot of subtext. But that’s for another night.
“Oh,” you add, “and be my backpack since you lost it anyway. Get up.”
Eunbi flinches, but she’s smiling the second you lower yourself for her.
“Come on. You’re tired, little raindrop. I’ll take you home.”
She sighs. She climbs on your back anyway. You support her legs with your forearms and boost her up. You pay your gratitude to the dark for hiding your flushed cheeks at the feeling of your friend’s body pressed so tight to yours.
“Please don’t do silly shit,” she begs, placing her face next to your neck and fearing the worst.
She’s right to be frightened. Lowering yourself nearly to the ground in preparation, you yell: “Here comes the rollercoaster!”
“No, no, no—ahhhh!”
You zoom Eunbi in the night, feet picking up speed and racing through the road. Her arms are rounded around your neck. She shrieks in delight, and while along the way your legs start to ache, you’re just glad to hear that laugh again.
-
Gently push the door to your house open with the help of Eunbi's keys, which come with a keychain of a knitted rabbit. Darkness greets you, spreading itself around the house like water.
“Why is it so dark?” whispers Eunbi, looking around and twisting her arms around your neck tighter.
“You’re such a baby," you chuckle. "It's nighttime, of course it's gonna be dark."
Eunbi whines and squeezes her legs around you. The feel of her fluffy thighs in the curve of your palms—it's… something. You can't think like that about her when she's your best friend, but she's so close, so perfect on top of you that your mind runs with ideas.
"Alright, fine. Turn on the light."
"Where?"
"You’ve slept over so many times and you don't know where it is?"
"Doesn't count when I can't see, genius."
"Right here." Twist your head to the wall, where a light switch stays. "Just near the door."
Eunbi reaches out her hand, and you're cohorts with the dark when you secretly inch the fluff of your sleeve against her fingers. She screeches, suddenly struggling, calling your name and whoever Fuck is.
This is the way of your prank backfiring on you: her limbs are surprisingly strong that her feather-light weight becomes too much. Your legs start to shiver. Your hands weren’t made to suffer this much wildness.
"Something touched me!" Eunbi screams, kicking you in the spine. You try to hold on to her but her legs don't behave. "A mouse, a mouse, a—"
You start to laugh. She's like a proactive rabbit trying to beat you up. "Calm down, it was just—"
"My hand, it touched my hand! Disgusting piece of shit, get it off—"
"Eunbi!"
She both clings onto you and pushes you away, scared of what lurks in the dark. You can't take it anymore and drop miserably to the floor. The tiles knock your back out. Eunbi won’t let go of you; her screams never stop.
"Help! My hand—"
"What's going on here?"
The light flickers on, letting you see what's happening. You're in the living room that connects portallessly to the dining room. The ceiling generates dizzy circles above you. And then there's Sakura, an unexpected presence, standing near you.
"Whoa there," she remarks, smug like she’s a journalist who caught a forbidden celebrity couple. "There's a time and place for this, right?"
For a moment, you wonder what she's talking about. You sit up and realize Eunbi's squeezed herself on your lap, with your arms tangled into hers during the mess.
Flush red. Sakura will never let you hear the end of this: you cradling Eunbi on the floor, with her looking so comfortable snuggled up to your touch. “Something couple something something perfect for each other,” that's what Sakura would say.
"It was just a prank," you mumble to the girl on your lap. Pat her head. Show her the fluffy fabric cuff of your sleeve. "See? There's no mouse."
"What the hell? You're such an asshole!" Eunbi's blade-sharp gaze, it cuts through you. You want to keep bleeding, It's unfair how pretty she is even when she's angry.
"Hey, I can do pranks, too." Turn to Sakura, because the next thing you're wondering is how she's here. "How did you get in, Miyawaki?"
"I drove," she says, like it explains everything. "Should we eat? Your dad left some food in the microwave."
Eunbi turns shy at Sakura's knowing look as she rises. She pulls you up. The veins in her forearm flex.
Sakura leaves anyway to fetch the food. You can smell spring rolls and freshly-cooked rice. Your stomach churns—running with Eunbi on your back has burned all that eomuk and left you hungry.
You look at Eunbi questioningly. "Do you know why she's in my house?"
"No.” She returns your curious expression. “I was hoping you would tell me."
“Christ, what's she doing here?"
"I'm here," butts in the Japanese girl, bringing forth a plate of crispy rolls and utensils, "because I personally want to help Eunbi unnie in making it up to you.”
She takes the liberty of scooping chunks of rice onto your plates. You dig your fork through one of the spring rolls, place it on Eunbi’s small plate, then get one for yourself. The wooden image of Jesus on watches you closely. You’re suddenly aware of every little sin you’ve made.
“Listen,” says Sakura, and you do just that.
So here’s Sakura’s brilliant idea, funded by her and her friends (somehow, Eunbi doesn’t get to contribute a cut): a trip for Christmas.
It’s out in Seoul, where it’s snowing at that time of the year, where you’ll get to roam the city and buy whatever you want—all on the house. There’s ice skating to do and restaurants to try, each new and exciting. You’ve never been to Seoul before, but the way Sakura narrates the whole plan makes you look forward to it.
She talks about how her new job is paying her great, and how the fact that the other girlfriends Eunbi has are chipping in makes it an all-in-all win. It’s a friend’s duty, she says, to stick up for when one of them is down, and since Eunbi made a mistake, she’ll gladly take the blame. You’re surprised at how dedicated the girls are. You’ve never seen a bond so deep that they’d pay thousands just for compensation. And for just a thrifted old bag, too.
It’s inevitable that you agree. You have nothing to lose. This is a chance of a lifetime, and you’d love to have a vacation anyway.
Sakura only has one stipulation:
You have to go with Eunbi.
-
Now it’s not that Eunbi is hard to be around, but she kinda is. It’s not in the usual way—she’s your best friend, not any other girl, and she’s not overly dependent that you have to act as her father or something. She can take care of herself, which can’t be said about a lot of people.
But this is what sets you off: you’ll be the only one with her in Seoul. A guy and a girl sharing a hotel room. Would it be awkward? Of course. How do you tell her that you won’t look when she dresses up? What do you tell her if you find her bra in your sheets?
Still, she’s your best friend. It shouldn’t be awkward around friends, especially when you’re on the journey of spending more time together. That’s the whole point of the relationship: to be free and careless around someone. It’s supposed to be like that until you see how pretty she actually is, with the flow of her long hair and the crinkle of her eyes.
That’s where it gets difficult. Really, really difficult.
“Hey,” she says, and that’s what breaks your reverie. Looking up at her, however, has you drowned in another.
Black-framed glasses sit on her nose, curling at the ends behind her ears. Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail, some fringes flying free from the band. It’s such a deadly attack. Then there’s the graphic shirt that hugs her too tight and the denim shorts that cut too close to the starts of her thighs.
You gulp. When you thought Eunbi couldn’t get prettier, she proves you wrong.
“You like it?” she asks. She twirls around. “I got glasses.”
“I see that,” you reply. Why is your chest immoveable?
Eunbi grins. “I couldn’t say that until I went to EO.”
You force out a laugh. You look at your phone, scrolling through your feed in search of a little reprieve from how pretty she is. At this point, it’s a constant run around your mine: Kwon Eunbi is so pretty. And she’s not just pretty, too. That’s what makes her so beautiful: the duo of feistiness and painful attractiveness. Can you say that? No. But that doesn’t mean you can’t think it.
The first thing Eunbi does when she takes the seat opposite you is swipe a finger through your ice cream. Glare at her. She beams at you. Your reprimand dissolves.
“How’d you know where I was?”
“Lucky guess,” she says. She decorates the sides of her face with her palms as she looks at you curiously. “What you thinking about?”
You. “I’m still not sure about the whole trip thing.”
"Come on," she says, and that pout knows how to break away at your attempts to ever hold her accountable for anything. "It's only weird if you make it weird."
Weird is fitting for October anyway. Should have ordered that Halloween special instead of this.
You were a solo customer in the ice cream parlor until Eunbi came out of nowhere. She always knows where to find you. Telepathy? Power of friendship? Power of something more than that?
You don't want to think about it.
"It's Sakura," you say, testily, as you shove another spoonful of double dutch in your mouth. The sweetness can't melt your anxiety. "It's always weird when it's Sakura."
Eunbi considers this. "What about when it’s me?"
“What?”
“I said: is it weird when it’s me?”
She’s clever at finding ways to make you stutter. “No,” you tell her quickly, “it’s not you, I promise. Just… it’s only us.”
You and Eunbi, alone in a hotel room. A straight man and woman in the same place, with nobody else around. You have fantasies about how it ends, but you know it'll never happen. But the thing is: you're stupid. You're going to do something you shouldn't, like watch her as she pulls long stockings over her legs. Think about more details than the shadow of her body on the glass shower panels let on. Want your best friend when it's everything you should never do.
“Is that so bad?” Eunbi sighs and looks around, thinking. As she takes in the jolly retro style of the parlor and the waitresses, she continues, “I mean, if you want to, I can find another way to, like, make things good. I can tell Sakura to call it off—”
“No!”
She looks at you surprisedly. Always, you speak before you think. To be fair, there’s a single thought behind your too-fast outburst: you can’t let this opportunity pass by. But rather than the grand city lights and expensive restaurants, you think about her.
You cover your mouth. Shit. You have no worries about fucking up in front of her. The worst thing she’d do is make a reference to it in future conversations or joke about it. But right now you’ve just revealed your true intentions.
You’re lucky Eunbi never takes things to heart.
“Okay, fine, geez.” She chuckles lightly, shaking her head at you. “You really need a vacation, huh?”
The only thing you need is silver rain, but you somehow always wield an umbrella.
-
“Do you like it?”
It’s what Eunbi says, on her knees before she sucks your tip. Groan you must because that tongue is too talented. It’s a skill you could only make faint guesses where it originated. For that, you don’t care anyway—not when she’s slipping and wrapping those perfect lips around your cock, the intent suction making you reel into her face. Almost knocks her specs away, and you wouldn’t want that to happen, would you? Her appeal just goes to an all-time high with them.
“Fuck, yes, Eunbi,” you say. “I love—”
“No. Now that I think about it, you don’t actually get to speak.” She teases your testicles and nurses on one, her hand attending to your stiff erection. “Not until I have my way with you.”
And she does. She switches back to your cock then, like an expert, she bobs her little head up and down, taking you in her throat like it was nothing. The chest of her tight shirt is stained with precum, and some of the foretelling liquid is in her hair. But when has she cared about that? Never, not in the time continuum of this room. She only likes to keep the propriety of servicing you, no matter how red her knees are or how sore her jaw gets.
Eunbi teases her tongue on the lower side of your cock then brings her lips up. You hiss. Her throat welcomes you again, and, with a hand on your thigh, she makes it work. She’s choking, and yet the clever little thing is so diligent with her work. Through choke and sob, those teary eyes looking up at you for validation, she continues. Spit dots your cock and so does lipstick. It’s smudged at the side of her chin.
She licks your cockhead repeatedly. It’s swollen, and she takes advantage of it by licking. And sucking. Then licking it again so rapidly you start to shake.
There’s a greedy glimmer in her tears. “Gonna cum?” she asks. “Please? I want you to.”
Fingers wrapping around your base, she goes down again. Her nose touches your pubic area. You can feel her hot breath tickling your flesh when she rises for a brief and subtle breath. Then it repeats: Kwon Eunbi is forcing her head up and down, lips wet with saliva and precum. The texture of her tight throat and the welcoming pleasure of her mouth brings you too close. Too damn close—
Fill her throat with white so much that she squeals in surprise. A little adorable giggle, then some more hardworking sucking to work your cum out of you. You want to tell her that you’ve become too sensitive, that she shouldn’t continue. But then you never want it to stop.
“Fuck! Eunbi, Eunbi, Eunbi—”
That’s what you say when she continues despite her breaths getting lost.
“Good girl. Good pretty girl.”
That’s what you say, with your hand on her ponytail, tugging it so she gets access to the oxygen she willingly deprived herself of. Her mouth’s filled with your semen. She’s gasping. Her chin’s lifted to the sky but her eyes gaze only at you. Your approval isn’t what she needs to get by solely, but god, does it make her think so.
“I love you.”
That’s what she says.
But like everything else—this blowjob that made you fail November’s challenge, the sweet talk, her on her knees, her actually liking you—
It could only ever be in your imagination.
-
December couldn’t come any sooner. Packing was an eventful occasion. You bunched up a lot of underwear in your carry-on like you had a habit of pissing yourself. It was only when you got to the airport that you realized that in all the rage to get clean underwear, you didn’t bring socks.
The twenty-third was a day you both dreaded and yearned for. But then you’re in the airplane, traveling through clouds you used to stare up at, and Eunbi’s beside you. Isn’t she always? She falls asleep a couple of times in the airport, head on your shoulder, and you pat her knee to slumber her. Her Sanrio neck pillow is of no use when you’re a better one.
Why can't you stop staring? She's been a tear in your heart for a long time, making it pulse and ache, but now she's gotten so much prettier, so much more friendly that it isn't really unexpected that you fall for her. Is that your confession to yourself? Perhaps. You could only ever say it to your own heart.
Picture this, (and, matching that of the many other scenes you’ve dreamed of her in, it would only be real for a while): Eunbi's wearing that shirt from the day she first sported glasses. On your lap. Looking at you with an aura any man with a heterosexual drawing could read. Hands on the edges of her knees.
She's leaning over, and she's saying—
"That little witch,” she spits, shoving her carry-on, “I can't believe we fly at seven and we had to be here at two a.m., I'm gonna kill Sakura!"
Close enough?
"You got a mouth on you, huh?" you remark. Pull her wheeled suitcase to the mouth of the plane.
Seoul is a paradise. You could see the greatness even from above. A couple of times you have Eunbi wake up to look, and she does. Her evident happiness shines brighter than the city lights.
"It's beautiful," she murmurs excitedly. Even her eyes that are heavy with sleep appreciate the view.
"So it is."
But you could think of other things that are prettier. Other people.
It's autumn, and the golden leaves are starting to fall. They crumple beneath your feet and release crackles that bring a strange sense of satisfaction. Step on another one. And another one. Somehow all your troubles are gone.
Look at her.
She’s reading from a book, paging through leaves containing yellowed words. She looks like a nerdy girlfriend with the new look, which you still haven’t gotten over. In any case, she’s so beautiful, and again, your heart is sore.
Eunbi’s deep into the story woven with Shakespearean words, but she catches your prolonged stare. Blinking, she lifts her head. Smiles. Cocks her head sweetly to the side and you swear she can’t look any better than this: long dark hair swaying ‘round her face and glasses making her more adorable. Says, “What ya lookin’ at, handsome?”
Yeah, all gone.
Eunbi loves playing around with nicknames, and she must think you’re vain enough for her to use that when she wants to rile you up. (She does.) You roll your eyes, and she laughs at her own ridiculousness and your attempt to be dismissive.
“Someone who’s prettier than ever,” you reply. Raise your chin. “You know her?”
“You really love me, huh?”
“Never said it was you.”
“Oh, darling.” Eunbi licks her lip. “I know it’s me.”
Well, shit.
Eunbi’s the only girl you know who could respond to your teasing. The only person, for that matter. Even the men start to back away. She’s the sole person who can handle you, and you yourself could barely handle her. Good friends don’t suddenly lose their breath when she gets near. Good friends don’t think of ever, ever crossing that borderline between platonicness and romance.
So it’s safe to say you’ve been a bad friend all along.
“Since you’re, like, so obsessed with me…” Eunbi rises and hands you her phone. The phone case is red—of course. “Take a picture of me, please?”
She rises from the bench, and you wince inside at how good she looks. It should seriously be prohibited to look that attractive. You've tried to keep your head clear of her, but then she stands up in those teeny tiny safety shorts, fucking hugging her thighs and that supple backside. Why did she choose to go in that? Not even a skirt to go with it, or dress pants? You’re not one to nitpick at what others wear, but you feel something stirring inside you when she dresses more freely.
And red—it just looks so good on her, doesn't it? That simple tight sweater has you begging for forgiveness. You'd go to a priest, confess your sinful yearning, and you don't think that he'd forgive you after how you describe it.
"Will do," you say, chewing on your lip. "Get to posing. We don't have all day."
"Not to burst your bubble," she tells you, " but we do. But I'm a good girl, so I'll do as you say."
Swallow. Why the fuck is she like this?
"You sure as shit aren't, little rain—"
She bends over.
The question repeats in your head. She bends over, (forward anyway), but if any shameless man were to walk behind her, they'd get an eyeful of her butt. You want to tell her she shouldn't do this, especially when her bottoms grip her thighs as a sole factor. But she's holding her bag in the edges of her fingers and angling her head to the side, and you know you’re over.
"—drop."
Eunbi smirks, haughty and proud. "Cat got your tongue back there?"
"Not even close. Give me a smize."
Proud of yourself for recovering quickly, you snap a photo of Eunbi. The look she gives the camera (you?): relaxed brows, slight pout, the black eyewear being the cherry on top—it's not easy baggage to carry for a man like you.
You put the phone down. Take a breather; you always have to when you're with her. Kwon Eunbi, national heart player. Kwon Eunbi, number one prank puller. Kwon Eunbi—
—your friend. Your best friend.
"What's wrong?" All that confidence evaporates from her as she walks up to you, concern taking its place.
She can be really scary sometimes. How could she be a flirt one second then a sweetheart the next? You're kept guessing, and you're guilty for liking girls like that. But as you study her, look at Kwon Eunbi—her hair and the band that sits atop it, her lips, her face—you kind of figure out that there's no other girl like her.
And that scares you.
"Nothing," you lie. "You wanna go get coffee or something?"
"Actually," she states seriously, rising, "I do wanna go get coffee or something."
-
The twenty-fourth. The malls are crowded with people buying last minute presents, so you and Eunbi sat on the bench outside. It might be Seoul, but you’re not fighting your way through a crowd. While you stayed there and waited for time to feel wrong, a rich woman mistook you for a beggar, pitied you, and gave you a coin. As you stared at the bust on the metal, Eunbi laughed so hard you were not totally uncertain that she was going to throw up.
"We should leave," Eunbi says, "before someone tries to bring you to a damn church basement."
And the scene repeats itself again: you talk with Eunbi, like you've done a million times, as you go to your home for this night and the next. You talk about everything, because conversations come so easily when it's her. Whether it's about stupid people or school or what happened that day, the words flow naturally.
Eunbi bites her lip, hands on her hips. "It's getting late."
"That a problem for you?"
"No. Nope. It's just that… I can't believe it's going to be Christmas tomorrow."
Christmas lost its spark back when you got into college. You've graduated and still you find no solace in the stockings and evergreen trees. School—oh, its deadlines, its pressure, its it-won't-matter-in-five-years-but-I'll-make-you-think-it-will papers—really ruined things for you. Forever.
She drags her vision around everything: the sky of stars, the roads that are just a bit cleaner than the ones at your home, the claw machine arcade just across the sidewalk. She goes there, and you follow. Don’t you always?
"It’s Christmas and we're here," she continues. She manages a snortle. "Doesn't your dad feel lonely? I know mine does."
"He likes you, Eunbi. He doesn't mind."
You pull out a bill and slip it into the old exchanger. Sure enough, tokens spill from the gap. Count them in your palm. Divide it between the two of you. You and Eunbi always share, no matter how hard you try to make it seem annoying. You only ask for one drink and one straw. You split rice balls from that trip in grade eleven when your parents forgot to give you allowance for lunch, up until college when the two of you were too broke to eat anything else. What’s yours is Eunbi’s, and what’s Eunbi’s is yours.
"What first?" She studies the old arcade. It's filled with machines that are either anciently old or freshly new. No owner patrols the areas, but instead, a CCTV does so mounted perfectly on the corner of the walls. It watches your every move, reminding you to behave.
"Wanna get a Piglet?"
“A what?”
“A Piglet. You know, the one who looks like an armadillo.”
“What the fuck is an armadillo?” Eunbi says the English name with spite, almost spitting it into the ground.
“Forget it. I mean like the cartoon pig people say looks like you?”
"Oh. Nah. A good ol’ vibrating egg for me." She thrusts a thumb into the glass of an 18+ claw machine, where it tempts the player with boxed sex toys and hentai copies.
Heat flares at your cheeks. Now it’s not that you’re thinking of it, but it’s Eunbi’s dirty jokes that make you think of stuff you shouldn’t. Her on her bed, legs spread wide open as the toy pulses on her clit, her throwing her head back and crying…
"Spend my money wisely, please?" you croak out. Slip a token into one machine and start to crank at the lever.
"I'll be good."
Your hand curls tighter around the ball of the lever. You hate how you picture double meanings with everything she says. She doesn't deserve that. And you don't either.
Eunbi prances over to the Piglet machine anyway. You want to snicker at her antics, but it gets broken when you see her bend down. The jeans could only hug her backside so much. Her shirt lifts and you could see her tummy—that flat, soft midriff that you’ve wrapped your hands around when you guide her back on the occasion she runs too fast. Or when she needs to move away. She doesn’t mind; she touches you more freely anyway. But you wonder if she’d let you come up behind her and place your hands all over it, not as friends but as something more.
Because for a friend, she sure does take up a lot of your mind.
Put your focus on this keychain. Yes, this one. This keychain is cute. Would be nice to bring something home to your father. You guide the claw to the nearest one and slam the button. To your surprise, the metal actually hinges around the keychain. You could feel your soul lift up to your throat. It just needs to make it all the way to the hole—
“Shit!” you curse as the claw lets go. That can’t be fair, right? It was doing so well, then it just spread open again. What a waste of time and money.
“Loser,” giggles Eunbi. She shows off a Piglet stuffie, pink and simpering.
“Wow, really needed to hear that. Thanks, Eunbi.”
She lifts her shoulders. “Hey, for what it’s worth: I just got lucky.”
Tokens become nothing to you. You try again and again for a prize to make it your money’s worth, only to end up with nothing. Eunbi scores a candy from the kids’ section, and you could see her consider trying out the 18+ ones. The appeal of the Playboy magazines and the Japanese girls looking back lewdly at her with barely no underwear on is beguiling.
“Do you think I should try to get a dildo or something?” Eunbi asks, running her knuckles along the markered glass.
“You don’t even know if it’s clean.” You’re leaning against the outside exchanger, staring into nothingness. But you always manage a little response for Eunbi, as absurd as her questions are and as wild your thoughts are about her. “You might get an STD or some shit.”
Her face squeezes up in disgust. “Ew, right. Forget it.”
You feel her warm body press into your side later. You’re still surprised even though the girl never leaves you alone. Then her head is on your shoulder, just like in the airport, and your heart surges. How do you deal with her? Pet her arm, and somehow she finds a way to sink deeper in your touch. She looks up at you and offers you a kind smile.
“I got you the keychain,” she says. She drops the Seoul keychain on the hand she forced you to open and looks away modestly. “Saw you sweating over it.”
“Thanks.” You look down at it on your palm and feel warm inside. She really is so sweet. “Appreciate it.”
“Yeah,” Eunbi replies quietly. “It’s the least I could do.”
She purses her lips tightly and exhales through her nostrils. Guilt floats in her face like a dark shadow.
“If it’s about the bag, I already told you it’s okay. I mean, it’s just a bag.”
“So? It means a lot to you.”
Your thoughts race with your words and win, forcing them out. “You do, too.”
Is she blushing? No. No, can’t be. But she’s stroking your palm with the keychain on it, a little tilt at the edge of her lips. That’s kind of close to that. Friends do this, right?
Her touch feels both foreign and familiar. You want to reel back and apologize for something you didn’t do, but then you want to hold her. Make her happy. Is that alright?
“Speaking of which,” she says pensively, staring into nothingness like you are, “what do you think happened to it?”
“The bag? I dunno.” Bring back her attention—eyes on me—by actually holding her hand. Sometimes you could be so brave. Toy with it, swinging your joined hands in the air then pressing them to your chest. You laugh at the suspicion clear on her face. “Probably in some lost-and-found counter. Or someone actually stole it and was like, ‘yep, hit the jackpot.’”
“Like trouvaille,” she says.
“What?”
“Trouvaille,” Eunbi repeats. She breaks her gaze from the space on the road and looks down at her sneakers. “A lucky find.”
A lucky find.
Staring at her is your pastime at this point. Your focus glazes over her once more, and you drink her all up. Two locks of her hair are pulled and tied at the back, making her look absolutely gorgeous. You’re lost in her eyes, like they’re an ocean and you’re on a raft floating on its waves. And of course, those glasses—you’re convinced they were made to make you want to do sinful things to her.
But the urge to sweep her in your arms takes over, and it outweighs your lust. Or are they equal? She looks so beautiful, yet so handsome. So pure and sweet, yet such a bombshell.
“Forgive me, but I must reiterate.” She tilts her head with a silly little grin. “What ya looking at?”
You’ve figured it all out. You wonder why you were ever worried.
"Well," you lead a runaway lock of dark hair back behind her earlobe, "guess I’m just lucky to have found you. Even if you're a nuisance."
Her eyes crease up into half-moons. "And I'm lucky to have met you."
"Even… ?"
"Nothing after. Just that: I'm lucky to have met you."
You never meant to actually do it. But it’s become too silent, like the world is leaving the cards on your table to play. And there’s her certain hold on your fingers, like she wants you to do it. There’s the birds tweeting as they gather into the trees for the night, waiting for the show of a lifetime. The stars, too, are bright tonight.
So who could blame you for nailing her to the claw machine and finally, finally kissing her? Her lips are as soft as they look, and you’re melting in them. You’re still holding her hand, keeping it pinned up to her side. Your tongues come out to play and it’s so much better than you imagined, so much better than your stupid little fantasies. Your eyelids shut, too, because this is an experience you never want to end.
That collarbone will be the end of you. It peeks from the neckline of her shirt, and you suddenly have all the courage to seal your lips on it. If only you could have mustered the same courage back in college to socialize, but you’re glad you saved it all up for this moment. Eunbi’s moan is sharp, and it almost makes you falter, almost makes you stop. Nope, can’t do that. When she’s letting out all these other little sounds as you have your way with her, there’s no way you’d let up.
“Hmmm…” Eunbi twists her head to the side and cries out. It unintentionally grants you access to her flawless neck. You leave some flaws: purple bruises she whines at, harsh open-mouthed kisses that trail saliva all over that pale skin. “I need to tell you something.”
You brush your mouth behind her ear. You can smell her faint perfume. “And that is?”
“I lied about wanting to get a drink.” She scoffs at her desperation, then sighs. She gives in either way. “I fucking hate coffee. Hate it. Hate it like a mother hates her firstborn. Or something. Just hate it, hate it, hate it.”
You shake your head. What an unfitting time to say that. Cradle her anyway. “Then why did you get some with me?” you ask.
“I-I don’t know. Guess I just wanted to be with you.”
Wait, so what about all those times you invited her for a study session at the cafe? She had always ordered a latte. Has she been hiding that silly secret each second, just for a chance to hang out with you? To have your company?
You didn’t know coffee would flatter you this much.
You pause. Does she like you? As much as you like her? You don’t know. You’re momentarily flustered. Step back and scratch the back of your neck, similar to a boy having been caught doing something wrong. Kissing your best friend is something wrong.
You shouldn’t be doing this. A friendship between two heterosexual people of the opposite gender could stray to lengths that are both painful as they are excruciating if someone dared to touch the other. So, if you kissed Eunbi, who could predict the consequences? Chances are you’ve ruined your friendship forever.
Then she grabs your waist and pulls you close. Kisses your chin ‘cause that’s all she can reach and she can barely reach it at all. But it sends shivers down your knees.
“Come on,” she whispers breathily. “Don’t be shy. Touch me.”
Foolish to stop and think. Your immediate yet hesitant reaction is to give her jawline one final kiss and slip your hands under her shirt.
“Oh!”
Alright, you’re a lot more confident now. You pull the cups of her bra down and start to squeeze. It’s no secret that she’s got a blessed bust, and now you get to feel it. Her nipples are hard in your palms and the flesh in your hold is just so soft. You could never get enough.
Eunbi laughs. Sort of; it’s kind of a moan, too. She lifts her chin to the sky as you knead and knead and knead. “H-how long… have you been waiting to do that?”
It’s an achievement making her stutter. More stammering breaths leave her lips when you thumb her nipples. Press, thumb, pinch, repeat. It’s how you find out she’s just so damn sensitive, and of course you’re abusing that fact.
“You don’t want to know,” you reply, brushing your lips over hers.
She gasps. “Again.”
“Huh?”
Eunbi kisses you. “Kiss me. Like this. Again.”
Is anyone aware, by the way, that you are completely incapable of refusing her?
You kiss her, like she asked. She sighs happily, her tongue suddenly coming out to play. More sensations of softness are at hand, and now you’re battling for the upper hand with your tongue responding to her gestures.
Two can play this game. You slip your tongue through her lips and she sucks it, almost like she’s aware of who’d be controlling who. You force her up to the claw machine glass (plastic? It’s pretty sturdy) so hard that your kissing isn’t gentle by any means. It’s leaving her breathless.
“You’re… you’re good,” she hums, when you finally reward her with a break. “I wanted to be the first girl you did that to.”
The revelation definitely isn’t linked to how hard you’re nibbling on her jawline. Her shuddering breaths are everything.
“Actually,” adds Eunbi, “I wanted to be the first everything for you. First kiss, first love, first time. But you just had to date Hyewon, huh?”
“Jealous?”
“Nope. Never. Just, oh, don’t stop–” Eunbi winces, ribbons her fingers through your own more. “Oh…”
Your tongue swirls on her neck. Meanwhile, your hands are busier. You squeeze Eunbi’s fantastic breasts so that her leg pulls you close. Your obvious erection pushes against her center. Her hips start to move, bringing herself closer to your rod and getting off on the feeling. Her little whines increase.
Then you remember something.
“Have to.” You retrieve your fingers from under her shirt. Regretfully. Fix her bra back on her.
She’s near tears. “No…”
“There’s a CCTV, little raindrop. You wanna get arrested?”
You’re out of breath. You pull the ends of her shirt down to hide evidence of the crime, though there’s the camera witness to it, and try to lead her outside. She refuses to budge. Her glare is clear.
“If that means you get to fuck me till I’m begging and drooling,” she says solidly, “then take me to court.”
-
You take her home instead.
She looks frail waiting at the glass doors as you purchase some contraceptives from the convenience store, almost whining when you take too long. How the fuck do they have lube, too? You buy that and all the contraceptives they have, because if you want to have Eunbi, you gotta do it fast and safe.
She manages to wait on the elevator, hand wrapped tightly around your palm. Then, when you get to the room, she pushes you down the bed as if she were actually taller and stronger. She truly is an actress—wasn’t she just squirming impatiently not less than five minutes ago? Directors would look at her for sure, a face to remember among plain ones, and say, “Oh, this is our trouvaille. This is what’ll make us billions.”
But now, she’s all yours. Your little trouvaille.
There’s pride in that.
“Fuck. Can’t wait to have someone like you.” She kisses you. Again. Another one to your chest. She’s a little greedy with the way she devours you. But you’ll spoil her as much as she wants; curve your body up so her cushiony lips could have more. Your back is buried into the white sheets. “Someone who is you.”
Grasp the small of her neck—her kisses are surprisingly passionate. "Wait,” you say, “you're not a virgin?"
It doesn’t bother you; just surprises you. Eunbi’s had a fair amount of suitors and boyfriends, and plenty looked too frail to even hold her hand.
"Virgin? Hell no," she replies, like it’s the most unbelievable thing she’s ever heard. The center of her jeans grinds against the mountain in yours. She bites her lip. "Mmm. You think with all this hotness a dude would go, 'Oh, I only want to take care of her'?"
"I do want to take care of you," you murmur, caressing her waist.
"Oh?" A grin stretches on her face. Her teeth still trap her lower lip, and it makes your stomach tighten. Your jeans, too. "Tell me more."
“For one,” you sit up and play with the belt loops on her pants, “I’d like to help you out of your clothes.”
“Typical,” she mutters amusedly. “But I’m not complaining.”
Eunbi continues grinding for long seconds that already feel like a taste of heaven, then rises. Her legs are jelly. You can’t imagine how wet she must be, and to think you’d finally see exactly how. She undoes your zipper, and you in turn pull down hers. Your pants are a whirlpool on the floor. It’s only when you roll on the condom and help her out of the shirt that you realize what she’s wearing:
Calvin Klein, from bust to bottom. Her navel sits above the band of the underwear. Her midriff looks even more perfect bare. Flatness travels through its front until it swells largely at her breasts, which look heavy behind the gray bra. Her hair falls messily over her shoulders, a sea of wildness, and her smile is dorkier with those glasses.
“Fuck.” Your Adam’s apple bobs. “Eunbi...”
“Will you?” she challenges.
You stand up and grab her ass to usher her closer, then kiss her. She smirks; she expected that to happen. Of course, the little devil, always getting her way. But you can’t help but give and give and give; you turn your positions around, push her gently so that she lands on the bed, and continue to kiss her.
Silky legs curl around you. Behind the fabric, you could already feel how wet she is. Drive your hips up because the friction is too good. The wet spot of arousal on her underwear prods your clothed erection.
Eunbi screams loudly. Chastise her with a squeeze on her butt cheek. She yelps, and your lips land on her again. “Easy there.”
“I hate you,” she groans, slapping your arm impatiently. She whines when you poke her cheek. “Give it to me.”
“Give it to me what?”
Eunbi huffs. “You want me to call you daddy on the first day? Really? I mean, that’s fine, I can do that. But can’t we dial it back?”
“You watch so much porn that you forget basic politeness.”
“Wow, hypocrite. Fuck you—”
“Baby.”
That shuts her up. Your thumb caressing teasing rhythms on her face plays a big role, too. Her ears are pink at the ends and she genuinely looks shocked. No, not shocked. Can’t be just that anyway. But that tiny pout pulling south at the ends and the tiniest of pants escaping it tell you what you have to know. You and Eunbi can communicate with just a look, and this one she gives writes to you a message of want.
“You alright? It’s okay, Eunbi. Baby.” Proud to have ruined all her feistiness, you tip her chin up. “I want you to say it.”
Wait, patiently. It’ll take time and you’re not one to rush. When she starts to talk again, her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Please.” She nods and nods, like she was doing it just in case you started to doubt. “Please fuck me.”
“Good girl,” you tell her. You’ve always wanted to. You can tell it’s the same for her.
You ease her out of her underwear and find her pussy prettily shaven, glistening wet. Light stickiness lines the insides of her thighs. Her lips down here are just as beautiful up there. You glide your fingers up and down between them, a choreography you’ll never get tired of performing again. Your touch is light yet you manage to put your hand on and in all the right places.
Oh, well, barely in. But that’s the fun of it; teasing Eunbi is a newfound hobby. In little time, it’s become your most favorite. Your touch is so light that when you edge the tips of your fingers inside, it’s already a lot to take. She lets out a humbled little growl, shoulders straightening. Mouth slacking. Thighs shuddering.
“No, no, why does it feel so—” Her voice breaks. Her face squeezes up and she’s crying out in strained, tiny sounds.
Your digits gently curl on the entrance of her pussy, touching her sore clit and making it throb with the stimulation. Eunbi’s lost count of the times she’s done the exact same thing to herself: lying in her bed screaming out silently with only her hand to turn to. And now she’s here, with you doing it for her.
Slip one finger inside, and even with that she’s already so tight. You start to pump her, each driving her nearer and nearer to the headboard. She’s whining, like no, no, oh, please don’t stop. You add another to hear it more.
“You prick,” she squeals out, palm to her mouth. “If you stop, I’m gonna kill you. I swear, I swear, don’t play around with me.”
“You’re in no place to be making threats, Eunbi.”
This is her punishment: a speed her little pussy can’t take. She’s so tight that you’re already struggling. Trust that she is, too. She’s thrashing around on the bed, disheveling the sheets the staff oh-so-carefully fitted back. Hold her down so she gets to feel the force of your pace.
How did she manage to peek in your mind, collect all your fantasies about her, and act them out? She’s there, in her Calvin Klein underwear, shaking at your fingerfucking and flashing you the most needy looks from behind those glasses. That’s gotta come from somewhere. Watch the float of her tummy when you jam your fingers harder; the quiver in her arms when you part her legs more. Now you’re certain.
Because see, it’s how it’s all so frightening: Eunbi’s Eunbi, your best friend and someone you’ve fallen in love with, and it’s the fact that you shouldn’t be crossing the line. You shouldn’t be fingering her with a madness of thousands when she’s your friend. You shouldn’t be touching and leading her on when she’s your friend. You shouldn’t be—
But oh, you are.
You’re doing it with the courage of someone who knows damn well what they’re doing is wrong, and with no regrets.
“In me.” It’s not a suggestion. It’s a command, veiled under a breathy tone. “Now.”
You pull your fingers out of her and lick them. You don’t know if she’s tangy or sweet or bitter, but you do know she’s fucking delicious. “Whatever you say,” is your reply, because you’re always spoiling her.
Eunbi separates her thighs from one another. Your protected cockhead bumps against her clit when you approach. She flinches, but scurries herself near. She can’t stop staring at you, your cock, your stomach. Everywhere. It makes you possess a kind of narcissistic theory that perhaps she’s just as obsessed with you as you are with her.
You’ve never hoped this hard for a conspiracy to become true.
"Please." Eunbi's breath shortens, and she closes her eyes. She’s suddenly quiet, letting go of her harsh neediness. "Please rub your cock on me. On my clit. Without the condom."
Look at her throbbing nub and catch your breath. Barely. You run your fingers below the sensitive pearl. Then, on it. Under it, too, with little weight in order for the heat to circle around. "I don't know if we should, little raindrop."
"You can put it back on after, i-if you want." Her begging is borderline desperate. No wonder she isn’t sassing you. "I’m on the pill. Should have told you, I’m sorry. But I just want to know what it feels like. Please?"
“Are you sure?”
She nods. Not that you need it to know what she wants.
You unroll the condom. Her mouth waters, even more when you do as she says. She’s right to be curious—it feels so fucking good that you’re afraid you have to put it on before you cum all over her. She whimpers quietly, the heat gathering in her clit and her legs suddenly tensing.
“Gah—” Eunbi sobs and catches the side of her fist in her mouth. “Oh god, please.”
“Seriously, you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”
“Shut up,” she gasps. “Just put it in me.”
Sure you will, but you can’t resist flicking your cock between her lips. Your tip teases her entrance and slaps her clit. Eunbi lets out a lengthy groan. It transforms into a girlish cry, and you kiss it all away. What you don’t know is the moment you push yourself inside, no amount of petting would get her to quiet down.
So you do.
“You are so—” Eunbi’s legs stretch out. They require an anchor, and you’re glad to act as one. You place your hands firmly on her thighs and start to push yourself inside the delicious tightness. Every time you try to push past the limits, her pussy only closes more around you. She’s all wet and aroused yet she remains so goddamned tight.
She’s slippery but firm in holding your cock inside that warm, wet hole. She has to stop tensing her stomach so that she won’t deprive you of her. It’s hard to push, but one powerful thrust drives you all the way in, making it worth it after everything. She spreads her thighs more which gives you the chance to feel them, and you’re right for grabbing the opportunity. Grabbing her thighs, to be specific.
Each thrust helps spread her out. You’re pushing her apart and forcing her limits to be taken down. Her pussy sleeves your shaft so well, so tight yet so perfect. You slam harder. Take in the beautiful imagery of Eunbi’s small cunt taking more than it could. Its hold is so enclosed that you’re required to guide her legs up to welcome your dick deeper.
“I’m seriously so angry at you,” she hisses out. She bears every drill with a pleasured face and a fist that chokes the sheets to material death. “How did you not dick me down… all those years ago, huh? What a fucking tease, fuck—”
Make up for it by choosing a rocky pace. She won’t relax, and it’s straining you. You’re so deep inside her yet you can tell there’s more to excavate—her tensed body just won’t let up. It’s like every time you roll your hips, her velvety walls close more around you.
“Well, I didn’t know you were so tight,” you say, kissing her collarbone. Tiny nibbles here and there before you give it a lick. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“Oh, you’re sorry? Then fuck me harder.”
You’re terrible at apologies, but you’re sure she’ll forgive you this time. Your core releases a mighty strength in shoving between her open legs. Even that sexy Calvin Klein bra can’t stop her godly tits from bouncing. Her glasses are lopsided while her vision goes loopy behind them.
Her cheeks inflate in labor as her lower body rises to greet you. She’s so adorable; it pinches your heart and leads your mouth down so you can kiss her shoulder and clavicle. See, you’re a good multitasker after all; you can destroy the heat in her center while worshiping her body. It’s good practice. Question is: would there be more times to exercise it?
“That’s it, yes,” Eunbi breathes out. Her hums of affirmation stutter even without her lips opening. “You know what I’ve always imagined? It’s this, it’s always this. When I’m supposed to be studying, I just think of how good you’d pound me. How you’d make me scream. Do what you want to me, okay? Hnnn, so big.”
Plenty of similarities between you and your best friend: your quickness to speak before taking the time to contemplate it, the clothes you accidentally mix and match, your ages. But what you didn’t know is when you sit down at your laptop plagued by thoughts of her, she’s somewhere in her own place being overwhelmed by ones of you. The heat somehow multiplies. Fills the room like a verse.
Therefore, you must hold her in place, give her a false reassurance that you’re going to take her slow. Do so, but then your thrusts become unmeasured and rapid. One hand on the side of that flawless waist, you lead the other to her bra. Harshly pull it down and let her boobs spill out of it. You start to squeeze them hard. Her chest is so bountiful that even the width of your hand can’t map it fully. So you squeeze, forcing it to fit in your fingers, and start to pinch. Her nipple is sore with arousal.
“Oh—oh—oh, shit.” She’s sobbing. But unlike the other times you’ve seen her cry, this one is out of pure bliss. “Just like that. Such a good dick, such a good boy, thank you.”
Your ears heat up. “You’re a pretty good girl, too, Eunbi.”
“You’re terrible at this.”
She mewls helplessly when you suddenly ramp up the pace. You’re doing her like you’re determined to make her pregnant. It’s the last thing you want to happen, but the grinds make it look otherwise. Along the expedition of your cock, it rubs her needy cunt and makes her drench your cock with more wetness. Enjoy the tightness, enjoy the squeeze of her hole. She’s so warm and wet that you don’t think you could live having only done this once with her. There’s gotta be more, right?
“What about now?” you ask, unable to resist smirking at how she’s now completely broken apart. Then, mirror her words from some days back that drove and still drive you crazy, as ridiculous as they are: “Cat got your tongue back there?”
She chokes up and is rendered even more lost for breath when you start to lose control of your own moans. They harmonize in an erotic chorus with hers and soon you’re muffling them with another torrid liplock.
“You’re a bully,” she says, the words mashing with your teeth and lips. “A heartbreaking, flirty, mean bully.”
Your noses nuzzle against each other. “You like me that way.”
“I’m not commenting… on, t-that.”
“Good. Because you know what you need to do? Cum for me. You’re shaking, Eunbi. Bet you wanna cry and get there so bad.”
“Y-yes!” Eunbi curses with that adorable lisp. She starts to stammer at the thumb floating and frisking on her clit, and she gives you this watery-eyed needy look that tells you, along with her stiff nubs and desperate gasping, she’s close.
You start to swipe at her clit and fit yourself lower in her. Eunbi gasps. She sits up though her forearms barely could handle the weight of what you’re doing, and stares down at your handiwork. She feels hot all over. You’re not helping calm her down. But you are aiding her orgasm, (which, by the way, is so near she can taste it.)
“What are you doing, you’re making me lose it—gonna—”
No need for her to continue for you to understand when she’s creaming all over you. Your rapid rubs on her clit don’t cease and neither do your thrusts. Eunbi’s yelling so hard that you’re afraid that even the well-built four walls of your hotel room won’t contain her noises. However, at the same time, you want them to hear her. That girl you always have your arm around on? Yep, she’s yours. That girl who always steals your socks and shirts? Just the same.
Eunbi’s mouth pinches up before sighing loudly, followed by a series of other gaspy breaths. You could hear a venerating one the moment the tightness becomes too much for you to handle and thus milks you of cum. You fill her so much that it drips off her lips. Your gentle thrusts guide the mixture of her cum and yours back inside her.
“That good enough for you?” you ask, pulling out.
Gently close her mouth and wipe the saliva that dribbles down it. When you lead it back to her mouth, she sucks on your aiding thumb. You take the liberty of running your finger along the soft pillows of her lips.
Add: “You’re incredibly demanding when you’re being fucked.”
Anyone could have guessed that it would be that way if they saw how she’s sitting there giving you teary puppy eyes.
“Of course. You know why?” She gives you a tired yet satisfied look, a triumphant one, too. “I know you would give me more if I asked.”
Fix her glasses back on the bridge of her nose. “You give yourself too much credit.”
“Okay. Fine.”
Eunbi stands up. She steals your attention from her heaving, heavy breasts when she gets on her knees. She squirms her thighs together, letting your creampie leave visible evidence. She massages your thighs, and it makes you even more turned on.
“Tell me,” she says, another challenge, “that you won’t give me your cum. Tell me I’m such a bad girl that I don’t deserve all of it on my face. Hell, tell me you won’t even dare give me a nice, hot load down my throat as a reward for taking you well.”
You’re speechless. How do you react to this? She’s on her knees, riling you up and about to get to sucking you off. It’s another dream come true. And you hate how she’s right to death. She always is.
“Tell me all of that,” she concludes, “and I’d know you’re a fucking liar.”
Your tongue can’t form a fragment. Not even a stutter is born in your throat. Eunbi stares up at you, her hands neatly folded on her lap. She’s waiting, and you want to tell her it’s fruitless. You can’t tell her anything because it would prove her point. Plus, she’s gorgeous, so what now?
She clicks her tongue. Hums out a contained, satisfied laugh. “Thought so.”
Here’s how it starts: she licks at your tip repeatedly, keeping in mind how sensitive it is after having just cum inside her. Sparks of heat knot there. Then she leads it between her lips, and you’re on your toes again. She just slides those full, pink lips over you so perfectly. From the base to the head she goes with barely a complaining mouth. To you, it’s everything already. But to her—oh no, don’t get it twisted: this is just the beginning of it. A teaser to what will happen.
Her tongue laps side to side while she takes you in her mouth. You let out a stilted breath.
“Damn, you really, really like that, huh?” She pauses momentarily to lick your balls, then travels her tongue to the sides of your rod. With one lick, there’s another ball of heat tightening in you. And another; you’re moaning.
“Y-yeah.”
“I see.” (She doesn’t; she’s closed her eyes while nursing your sore cock. Okay, now she does.) “What’s something you really wanted to do to me?”
You exhale. It’s the only laugh you can manage to create. “Ah. Where do I even begin?”
Eunbi brushes your cockhead over her pouted lips. Your toes curl. “Tell me? Please?” she says.
Talking to Eunbi is easy. You can tell her anything and she’d be there, listening patiently and adding a joke sometimes. But when you’re asked to narrate all the things you’ve wanted to do to her, it’s a difficult task.
How do you say you’ve wanted to bend her over a desk while you finish between her legs?
How do you say you’ve strained for the opportunity to ask her out, with the first date being consummated by steamy, romantic sex by the moon?
How do you say you’ve wished for everything, from romantically cheesy to filthily rough, when it comes to her?
“I—I’ve thought about cumming in your throat,” you admit. That’s the first step. You run your fingers through her hair. Take care not to mess the braids. “Making you swallow all of it.”
Eunbi looks smug. “Sure, I can do that,” she chirps. “I mean, I’m me, right?”
“You’re a brat.”
“So make me shut up. Stuff this fat cock down my throat. Make me gag with your load. You always wanted to, right?”
Eunbi’s a challenging girl. She pushes you to go the extra mile, makes you do things you never thought you could. Tonight is no different.
You don’t care to keep the aesthetics of her hairdo anymore. You bunch her hair up in one tight ponytail then shove yourself inside. No gentleness in your body, you feed her wet and waiting mouth.
What bests the other in terms of tightness: her pussy or her throat? You don’t know. Can’t choose properly either. Observe anyway: this orifice provides the perfect wetness and a tongue that services you with glides and licks. Then you have that tight hole when you push yourself deep. You can feel her breaths being blocked by your girth.
Start to thrust away. In the beginning, she still has it in her to suck. You can feel the strength of it doing away at your length. But now, she can barely breathe to even do it. You’re just pushing her face into your stomach and her nose to your navel. You’re using her, which you’ve sworn you never would do. But she’s asking for it. Can’t you break your oath just once? Or at least, whenever she asks for it?
“Can I say how pretty you look like this?”
The blush on her cheeks adds to the aura of it all. Her eyes are glowing with tears as they blink at you, and she’s started to salivate all over you. She can’t take it all, yet she’s so determined to that you want to stop and praise her. As you fuck her face sloppily, the thought that she’s beautiful still hasn’t left your head. Even when you’re ruining her, you’re still starstruck.
You’re a little flustered yourself. She’s so gorgeous that it sometimes makes you want to go call every visual storm in a rainforest ugly. She’s the prettiest little raindrop, and you stand by that.
“You’ll be good, won’t you? You’ll take all that I’ve got for you?”
She nods so innocently you wouldn’t think that she was having her face used.
She’s promised you to swallow all of your cum, and Kwon Eunbi? She never breaks promises.
Twist the ponytail you’ve bunched together to push her head firm to your stomach. She chokes, her throat constricting. Just what you wanted. You limit the movement of your hips so that you could shove that pretty face into you and make her put that mouth to good use. She’s good at that; even with her gags that somehow sound more heavenly than concerning, she takes and takes and takes your length.
Pounding away, you bask in the squeeze of her throat, her hold on your thighs, her eyes tearing up. Her glasses are lopsided, and this time you don’t fix them. You caress her cheek then tilt her chin up. Her mouth’s an easy place to access in this position. The imprint of your cock bobs in her thin neck.
“Oh!” she gasps for air once you retreat.
She sucks sloppily on you when you rub yourself on the inside of her cheek to lead you to a climax. After you’re certain it’s right around the corner, you start to jerk off in front of her face. As much as you’d love to completely release her, you want to see Eunbi fill her mouth with your semen.
Eunbi’s a good girl, so you found out. She doesn’t need instructions for her to cleverly part her lips and wait for it. Her heavy breaths fan your penis.
“Almost there, little raindrop,” you say, “just be good and wait.”
She sticks her tongue out and you aim for it. Eunbi closes in and fills the top of her tongue with your thick release. It pools in her mouth so satisfyingly that you almost wish you could keep cumming forever—not for the pleasure of it but to see her keep that desperate face on.
“Swallow.”
Eunbi shows off the plentiful evidence of your orgasm puddling in her mouth, then does so. After she gulps, she pants. Laughs a little, too. She has a way of finding humor in the most absurd situations. For example: your professor’s voice cracking in the middle of a rant. Your dad calling her “a very well-mannered young lady.” Having her face fucked.
“Do you know you’re, ah, shaking?” she asks, fixing her exposed bosom back in her bra.
(You are.)
(But, to be fair, she’s made a mess on the carpeted hotel room floor. That’s kinda worse. The saliva can’t be differentiated from her girl cum. But at least yours can.)
“Thanks for letting me know,” you say anyway.
“Anytime.”
Amazing how things could grow awkward after you just abused her throat. You’re like two strangers trying to make conversation, and you’re everything but that, aren’t you?
“How ‘bout this: d’you know that you glow after being fucked?”
“Shouldn’t you do it again?” She climbs onto the bed you’ve collapsed on. She places your hand on her thigh. “Keep me pretty?”
There’s nothing that could make her look unflattering. The messy hair is wild but she’s still a princess. But if that’s what she wants… well, she’s the last person you’d want to say no to.
“You’re insatiable.” Nevertheless, you let her bring your hand to her used core. You love how she stiffens when you start to rub circles around her clit.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t, too.” Eunbi presses her mound close to the heel of your hand. For a moment, she’s frozen. Then, her lips are next to your ear, telling you of a tale older than her lust. “I want you to do everything you want with me, everything.”
You’ve lost count of all the things you want to do to her. From things as sweet as tucking her in after a bad day to the filthiest like defiling that ass since that day she wore cycling shorts alone, your mind just runs with ideas. You can’t choose.
“You’ve kept me waiting,” she whines out. Her sighs grow sporadic. “So give it all to me.”
“Like I said: incredibly demanding.”
“You asshole.” She chokes this out as you start to roughly prod her nub. “You fucking… gatekeeper of dick.”
“Well, it’s my cock. I think I get to decide what happens with it.”
“You’re selfish.” Her voice gets higher. Her winces grow often, and Eunbi’s starting to babble out these little words of biteless barks. “You’re so, so cruel. You don’t know what I’d do, I will—I will—”
Before it happens, you place your hand on the back of her neck. She doesn’t even get to glare at you because it all happens so fast. You don’t know how you did it. Not just this, but everything else: how you managed to befriend her, how you managed to lay her.
How you managed to push her not too gently to the wall, her chest pressing its solidness. How you managed to perfectly time it so that her head is tilted to the side so you could still catch a glimpse of that face. How you managed to pull up her bra and free those tits.
How you managed to say: “Do you know what I would do to you?”
Because there’s a million things you could do to Kwon Eunbi—the girl you’ve got pinned beneath you who’s absolutely tense with want. Your little kisses melt the freeze of her shoulders; you can hear her soft moans again.
Her lashes flutter over the undersides of her eyes. “Please,” she squeaks out, “do tell.”
“I’d rather show.”
Eunbi hums strainedly. You pierce through her again, It’s the second time and her velvety pussy still barely budges at your contradictingly welcome visit. Press your stomach into her back till you’re buried deep inside her. As a result, she’s shoved harder into the wall. Then you retrieve yourself handlessly from her, then put yourself in again.
She pants heavily, matching those of yours. She’s shaking, the only leverage to stay upright is your body on hers. Your rhythm is not too different from earlier and Eunbi still finds herself seeing it as something so new. She still spasms and quakes around you. Anything you give to her, she takes gladly. Each thrust pushes out a feeble cry from her throat and from within.
Her arms stretch to support her stance to the painted wall. You adore them, like you do to every other part of her. But these—these beautiful, strong arms whose minimal bulges hint of well-trained muscles—they do a number on you. You run your hands all along them, not making it easier for her. Everywhere you touch delivers a quiver running through her body.
Although you touch first from the sides, her chest already feels big. You caress her curves before placing your hands right on her breasts. They’re your guilty pleasure, the kind that makes you pray for forgiveness because you don’t even know if you’re worthy of stealing glances at them. Maybe you are, because you’re getting to hold them. It’s a divine sign, if you do say so yourself.
Clutch them. Use them to plunge to places left unnavigated in her cunt. She’s dripping all over you, and it somehow plays the role of lubricant. It lets you thrust easily and keep her wet enough for more.
Any touch you trace on her beautiful body makes her quake. You brush your fingertips lightly over her clit, and the squeeze of her hole strengthens. You massage her fantastic hips and waist and you’re rewarded with a feral cry. Kissing her does no good in helping her calm down because, if anything, she gets more worked up.
“Oh, look at that, Eunbi.” You continue thrusting in her, pushing her limits far from the bounds, and she’s got her hands on her face, tears on her palms. “You’re so desperate. You squeeze so tight around me.”
Standing is something she’ll soon be incapable of doing for her legs are beaten down by your movements. “Not exactly my fault,” she says. “You know who’s to blame? You. You and that smug face and smug everything. You—”
How is it possible that you can make her garble but lose her words as well? Eunbi’s excessive whining comes to a halt as you plummet said cock deeper. Silent screams escape her open mouth and she’s clinging to the surface in front of her like she’d slip if she didn’t. There’s a possibility that that’s true—when you let go of her hip, she almost falls.
“You—” If you didn’t know Eunbi, you’d think her voice had contempt in it.
“What about me? Can you tell me?” You know that’ll annoy her.
It does, for she says: “W-wow, big ego.” She whimpers quietly at the soft kisses you place on her neck. The circumstances don’t allow her insult to hit properly. It just swells your pride.
“I know another thing from me and mine that's big.”
Eunbi growls. “Then put it to good—fucking—use.”
She has a point. Why are you fucking her rough when you could be even more so? Your touch climbs from her waist, tiny, to her boobs that can be described as every adjective in the thesaurus except for that. Afterwards, you carry out a brutal pace which drives her so into the wall that you’re not sure how she hasn’t made a dent in it yet. Her only protection from its hardness is your hands on her bust.
Nothing can protect her from your hardness, however. It’s almost cruel how pink that milky white skin is, culprit of the defilement being your core that slams and slams into it. But you know she likes it this way. So why stop? Of course, there’s no reason to.
“God, please– you’re—” Her expression changes. Pleasure becomes bliss as bliss becomes paradise. “Oh no, I think I’m close.”
No quote from philosophers and learned individuals could inspire you like that simple statement. Yes, she’s close to cumming. And it’s because of you, she just confirmed it. So you tweak her hard nipples and tilt your moves up. You must have hit a certain spot because a simple “oh” turns to a scream. Several of them actually, each increasing the smacks of your hips on her butt and your lips’ ravages on that delicate, vulnerable swan’s neck.
“Hngh, I can’t! I can’t, I can’t, harder, please!” she yells, falling back to the wall and shaking.
Your moves become frequent and rough. Your hands join in with the roughness; they begin to harshly pinch and grab her boobs until she unravels.
Eunbi suppresses her scream into a whiny cry and falls into you, unable to keep her balance anymore. The flood rages in her core and overflows. Your cum slides out of her pussy as she tightens and loosens. She frantically pushes her ass back into you to keep the climax on a high, coupled with sharp shrieks of affirmation.
“Keep fucking me,” she rasps, “keep ruining me.”
Her voice ranges between low and sexy to high and needy. Both sides, however, are draining you. It’s the way the sweat sticks to her gasping face and how her legs are practically limp. She’s completely under your control, and you… like it? Is that how it’s supposed to work?
“Yes, yes—don’t stop.” Her nails scratch the paint. “Don’t, wait, not inside me. Okay? You can’t.”
You manage to successfully quiet your groan of disappointment. You pull out reluctantly. Tell yourself you already ejaculated in her moments ago, so it’s only fair for it to be once. However, your cock’s still rock hard. What do you do about it? You’ve already done more than you should with her. It was all supposed to be just one kiss. How did you get here?
She turns around and places her hands on your shoulders. Her palms are sweaty in spite of the air-conditioner breezing in the room. The exhaustion on her face from sex is there, and so is this little serious look.
“I want you to cum,” she says, “in my ass.”
Thoughts. Too many of those, none pure. Thoughts of Eunbi that didn’t stay as fantasies because look at them bleeding into reality. Silence, too—you’re not saying they speak louder than words, but of course you can tell she’s serious with those watery bunny eyes.
“What?”
And of course you gotta act like a prude. What the hell? You? A prude? That’s a fucking lie. You’ve pleasured yourself countless times to the thought of her and that body, so why are you backtracking? As Eunbi would say, right after you made fun of lazy students while never studying much yourself, “Hypocrite.”
“What?” Eunbi drags your hands down that supple ass and makes you squeeze its full cheeks. “I want you to get your money’s worth from that expensive lube and pound me. And don’t you even think of stopping.”
You glance at the plastic-wrapped bottle on the bedside table, then back at her. It just doesn’t make sense. You—you and your awkwardness and spontaneous bursts of overconfidence—getting to cross the line? Everyone has probably doubted their worth one way or another, in stories written the same as yours, but is she serious? Does she really, really plan on letting you do it?
You look down at your bare feet. She sighs loudly, obviously and slightly irritated at your hesitation. Only an idiot would pass up that opportunity. But maybe you want to be an idiot—because fucking her would mean wanting her. You’ve already done both. You’ve made her cum twice and always wanted to do so, always desired her. To you, it just makes you worse than the rest of the men who vied and strived for her.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Eunbi,” you tell her quietly. Let them rage at your words as if your life were a movie and they were a judgmental audience, but it’s true. You can’t violate more unwritten rules.
She lifts her head, her face parallel to your own. “What if I want you to?”
-
You blackmailed everyone into reading your story, you’ll say it straight up. This isn’t a love story or tragedy, or whatever. This is a tale about you being too generous. You’re always giving Eunbi what she wants. Every key point’s been triggered by her wishes—from her bailing answers out of you right up to this passionate Christmas Eve. You’re the genie who keeps giving her extra. Oh, you’re a pretty girl, you see, you’d say, blue hand stroking her hair, so of course you can ask for more. It’s all on me, beautiful. All on me.
You keep granting. And granting. And granting.
“Spread those legs.”
Because it’s all written on paper, in the law of nature: she’ll be the one who calls you names and drags you around. But here? Nothing remotely close to that. She’s the girl who sits on the counter of the kitchen table, and opens her legs. Why? Because you told her to. You’ve already fucked all the sass out of that sharp-tongued mouth. There’s little left.
In this wealth-stealing coup of a hotel room, she’s the one who does what you want. She’d slacken her mouth to have you give her a throatpie. She’d ride you like she would a pillow if you asked her. But in a way, behind the scenes, it’s her screenwriting it all. She’s got it predicted from front to base—you’ll fuck her here. And there. You’ll do what she wants and do what you want. Make it meet in the middle.
Because, you think as you slick her asshole and your cock with the lubricant, that’s what friends do.
The edges of Eunbi’s palms are on the counter. You can see them struggle to keep her body upright. You can’t really say you blame the girl when the two of you have done too many things to fit into one night. Anal is another you’re trying to squeeze into a tight schedule.
But that’s what she wants. And, (heads up—skip if you don’t like spoilers): you just so happen to have a habit of being too easily swayed by pretty women.
“Open more.”
“There’s enough already,” she whines, words pitched and tiny.
“I know, Eunbi. Baby.” You’re clinging on that high of seeing the color rose her cheeks. In every way, red (can’t be pink when it’s that dark) looks good on her.
Eunbi’s breath skips a pattern. Her ass retreats at your touch yet goes back every time for you to hold. “You’re too good at this,” she says, speaking as if the words were a foreign language. Which is to say: cute. It’s like when she speaks English; it comes out sounding like fresh, pretty talk.
“Glad you’ve come to terms with that.”
“Wow.” Can’t tell if she said that at your cock pressing to her anal hole or at your quickness to speak. “Okay.”
“I mean, I’m serious. I only called you baby. How does that make me good?”
Eunbi coos when you touch the side of her face. Hold its jawline over the line your palm calls its own. Glimmering sweat and exhaustion and lust, she still has ways to make you go crazy. Your hand comforting her shudders nearly makes her forget you just want her to admit that you’re cut from the rest.
Both of you know what’s true anyway.
“I just…” Eunbi kisses the space between your index and thumb. “I just fall in love too fast.”
“How fast are we talking?”
“I won’t tell you, it’s been crystal clear since the time I met you. But for this?” She taps your hip impatiently. “As fast as you can.”
Her voice deepens, a stretch from her cheerful pitch. Where did that come from? She smirks at the change in your face, but she can’t hide the desperation in hers.
Her hole and your cock are shiny with the lubrication. Turns out the lube was a good buy; getting the tip inside her proves to be easy. However, it can’t help your job in hilting the entirety inside her. Thighs that glisten with wetness and lube wrap around you. Her midriff tenses, and so does her hole. So do her hands on your arms.
There’s already her cum and yours wetting her ass, as well as the lube you bought that was crazy expensive. So why is she still so tight? Her squeals thin and her face makes clear the labor. You’re spreading her apart in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.
She’s straining, too. Eunbi’s using every method in the book to allow your width to enter more: breathing deeply, relaxing her body, spreading her legs. But they don’t seem to work for her when her ass is only focused on closing around the little you’ve put inside her.
“Why do you have to be so big?” she whines. She pushes her cheeks to your stomach, inching you south and into her. “Why does it have to feel so good? Don’t just stand there. Fuck me. Split me open, I need it.”
Her wish is your command. That’s three wishes she’s making there and you’ll grant all of them. In a hard moment of pure will, you pull yourself out and slam yourself harshly into her tight body. Your attempt is successful; your whole girth is snugly hugged by her round butt. The enclosed walls of her anal ring are so overwhelming that you’re close to blowing your load already.
If you’re a genie, Eunbi’s the taker of wishes. She takes and takes and takes, even with your cock prodding past the hurting limits of her little asshole, and she does it oh so well. She’s probably seeing ghosts or the stars they’ve become with the way she’s not even looking at you anymore. No, her body is slanted up to allow you to give what you can. And by what you can, you mean your all.
Eunbi sobs and hugs you close. For comfort? Assurance? Speed? You’ll give her all three. That’s six wishes there, but with her, there’s no limit. You hold her as you find a perfect pace, one that makes her thighs squish on the ledge of the table and has her mouth gaping while you’re making another orifice of hers do the same.
When did pain feel this good? Eunbi doesn’t know. But she loves and accepts it. She’s reciprocating your thrusts with her own ones. It feels too good, so good that the sounds coming out of her are difficult to comprehend. She’s moaning, yet crying, too. Crying yet gasping in delight. Gasping in delight yet panting as if it were too much.
There’s one thing you’re certain of, though: she’s enjoying it. Wetness drools from her cunt and onto your shaft. It’s only a tiny bit of help, but it already aids in fucking her ass open sloppily. Her breaths are warm gushes of wind on your skin, and soon in the air as she throws her head back. Have to place a hand behind her neck to prevent her from bumping onto the all-too-near cupboard.
“So good, so big, can feel you t-throbbing,” she mumbles. Her lips purse before releasing a sharp moan. You’ve just placed your mouth on one of her breasts. “Know you wanted to do this. Saw you, hnn, staring at my ass.”
“Who can blame me?” You lightly slap her backside. “This thing is the best.”
“You got me so...” Eunbi’s gasp becomes a little lost ghost when you start to suck on her brown nipple. “I wore them, those ridiculous shorts, just for you. Wanted you to make me feel good, make me hurt, oh, I want it so bad—”
Her words pierce and break. Their propriety becomes worse yet the willpower they induce becomes stronger. Rapidity becomes a pastime when you’re pumping her. Of course, that’s already a given when the girl’s absolutely incapable of keeping quiet. Anything you do to her she reacts to. She’s still the same girl in the sheets as she is when she’s out and about, and it makes this sinful act—anally ruining her—seem like something so endearing.
Your thumb starts to rub her clit again. You’ve done this plenty of times in this hotel room right after the heat started, yet it still gauges the same reaction from her. She can’t stay still. She wants to stay in one place to receive you better but there’s the pleasurable pain in her ass, your mouth on her bosom, your hand feeling her up. She can’t take it, and you can’t either. She’s a combination of wetness and tightness and loudness and shrillness—you’re both too much for the other.
A lit match to a flamed lighter.
“Oh, god, no.” Eunbi’s teeth dig into your shoulder before retracting. Signs of her sobs linger and roll down her perfect face that wields an expression you admit to have fantasized often on her. “You’re gonna make me cum again. You're gonna make me cum again, I can’t handle it. Please—fffu—”
You stuff your fingers inside her. Match the pace with how you’re fucking her into the kitchen wall. She clenches around you and doesn’t let go. The wet squelching sounds compels you to be harsher with her. Fuck her like it doesn’t mean anything, just like she wants you to.
“Mmm!” Eunbi shrieks at the harsh intrusions she thought would be over.
“Not over yet.” You kiss her. “Still gotta cream this perfect ass.”
The promise of that makes her blush. Red and sweaty, she exercises those toned arms by using them in fucking herself on your cock. The pleasure is addicting, and she’s still keeping you to that oath to cum inside her a second time.
She’s so wet that it’s almost unbelievable. Your fingers curl, spread, jam themselves in her, and each time they pull out they’re soaked to the knuckles. Her clit twitches and you get your touch on there again. A little leak of cum wrinkles your hand from it.
“You really want it, huh?” Hiss at how she bounces that jiggling rear onto you. “Just a little more, baby. You’re gonna have to do much better than that.”
Since when did Eunbi do what you say? Since when did she do it with this much enthusiasm? Despite your shaft wrecking her insides and rearranging her guts, along with the orgasm she’s had, she perseveres. She rolls her body, a snake’s dance, and takes you in further. You admire how much you’ve spread her. Hold her backside to guide her.
You pity the housekeeper who’d have to clean up evidence of your sin. There’s her wetness on the kitchen table, the smell of carnal need in the air, sheets torn by the little power Eunbi’s fingernails have. But there’s no regrets, you think, for this one:
An explosion. The kind that doesn’t kill but brings her to life. Its origin is the base of your cock and birth inside her tight little ass. Hold her close. Slam inside her as if you were mad at her, while she lets out gasped repetitions of “oh, oh, oh.” Now you pull out your digits and resort to furiously rubbing her nub, effectively making her even tighter.
“That’s it, fuck, such a good girl,” you groan. Grip her ass so tightly that it draws a yelp out of her. After it’s all done, you pull out.
“You,” she drawls when you pull out. She spreads her legs and stares at the semen dripping out of her holes. At the mess you’ve made on the floor, the bed, the table, everything. “You…”
She doesn’t continue what she’s saying, but you’re pretty sure you got the gist of it. It was you who fucked her. It was you who made her climax so many times in one night. It was you, her best friend, who did her in.
“Yeah,” you say, laughing.
Somehow, the whole experience is making you guilty. You feel like the richest man in the world, the luckiest, too. So why do you feel you did something wrong?
Eunbi narrows her eyes. She knows you too well. “Don’t you dare apologize.”
You don’t.
“Now kiss me.” Her words fan your chin, a haunting love spell. “Again.”
You do.
-
Christmas comes, and by then you've flown home. You’re at Sakura’s house to celebrate. Green and red are all over the place: red cupcakes on a baking tray, old books leaning against each other, the rug beneath you and her friends. There’s a giant statue of Santa Claus, overweight and jolly, at the corner next to the Christmas tree. What used to be under the plant were gifts Eunbi specifically said not to touch until 12 a.m midnight. No sleeping in now that you’re well aware that the man himself isn’t real.
Sakura’s undoing the ribbon on her gift, but her eyes are on you and Eunbi. “There’s something really weird going on with you two,” she says.
The girls nod and hum choruses of agreement: yes, he and the bunny leader are acting odd lately. No, they don’t know why. Is it because of the vacation? Seasonal depression (but with Christmas lights!)? They’re gonna find out for sure.
You and Eunbi look at each other. Your faces hold an unreadable expression, until you take an interest in one evergreen branch and her in the collar of her ugly Christmas sweater.
“Nah,” you say.
“Nothing much,” she echoes, drinking her hot chocolate.
Yena groans, tired of your pretentiousness. “You fucked, didn’t you?”
A liquid spray of sugar lands on the rug, courtesy of Eunbi. The girls begin cackling, slapping their hands on their thighs and on each other. You look away to manage your laughter. Unfortunately, it’s as loud as Eunbi’s scheming little members.
“That means yes!” Yujin shouts gleefully. Her dimples are printed on her cheeks. “You owe me ten thou, Yena unnie!”
Christmas spirit truly is in the air. They’re jumping up and down, laughing and cheering, while you two are mortified. You’re the Grinches of the holidays, but even that can’t sour their happiness.
“It worked!”
“I can’t believe it worked!”
“They’re so obvious about it, too!”
“No wonder Eunbi unnie was limping when they came home!”
The whole thing was a setup. It’s all dawning in on you. Why else would eleven girls pool ridiculous amounts of money for a two-person trip? You’ve given them the best Christmas present of their lives unknowingly.
But with how much Eunbi loves them, she’s okay with that.
You are, too.
-
“Hey.”
You lift yourself up from the comfort of the pillows and sheets. Eunbi’s standing at your bedpost. She still has on the sweater, courtesy of your mother, and her ears are still pink. That’s one of the cutest things about her: when she gets shy or humiliated, it’s pretty obvious.
How do you go about this? It’s been awkward and silent ever since you had sex. It’s so unlike your dynamics, and it’s scaring you. You don’t want to lose her. Is that the same on her end?
At the end of the day, though, she remains your best friend. You’ll always reserve a place for her with you.
“Hi.” You pat your bedclothes, and she sits.
She looks away as she pushes a paper shopping bag in your arms. “Merry Christmas.”
You wonder how you didn’t see it peeking from her tiny back. The bag isn’t too heavy, but it obviously is something large with how much you can feel whatever is inside it. Quickly stapled and taped, it’s a last-minute present for sure. Did she forget you? Of course, your heart squeezes with the idea of it.
“Way to time your—”
“Don’t be stubborn and just open it. Please?”
Do so.
It’s a bag. Not just any bag—it’s a brand new original of the backpack she lost you all those months ago. She’s got it down to the same color (gray), design (two pockets, with black zippers and one for a bottle) and size (medium). The only thing that sets it apart from your first one is the unavailability of shreds and tatters on the bottom side.
Stare at it, dumbfounded. How did she track it down? It’s sure to be expensive, seeing as it isn’t thrifted and is wrapped in the branded plastic of an overseas branch. “Eunbi,” you say.
“It was shipped later than expected.” She shrugs, trying to play it off. Still, you can hear her laughing shyly. “Hope you like it.”
“I told you to save yourself the trouble.”
You lift the bag up and stare at it. The transparent plastic allows you to marvel at its beauty. The faint scent of newness fills your nostrils.
But the real beauty is the one who sits on your bed late on Christmas night, with her hands folded neatly on her lap like a Catholic schoolgirl. A few locks of her hair are braided with red ribbons to go with the season of giving. Her brows are as dark as her glasses, her cheeks as red as her ugly sweater.
“I like it when you trouble me.”
As always, her statements hold more meaning than they should. And, like you could through her eyewear, you can see right through them. Knowing what she tried to say causes you to inch closer to her. The sides of your thighs press against each other.
“Makes me want to trouble you more,” you reply.
She lifts her head. Already the light cockiness she so often brings with her pours back into her face, and you couldn’t be more relieved to see it again. “So do it.”
Things have a way of coming back to you. Your bag, the thrill of meeting her again, Eunbi. Not everything will return, but then it’s probably just a sign that things aren’t gonna be bad forever. There will be days you’ll get to have a vacation with her again, the promise of December’s Christmasses, being with her and her friends you’ve grown to love. There will be days for new beginnings, like this one. This is a fresh start with her. There will also always be days you’ll do whatever she wants, which somehow align with what you want too.
Refer to this:
You kiss her, your little trouvaille.
#kpop smut#smut#kpop fanfiction#fanfiction#kpop fanfic#fanfic#girl group smut#female idol smut#soloist smut#idol smut#izone smut#kwon eunbi smut#eunbi smut#izone eunbi smut#male reader#x reader#reader insert#idol x male reader#idol x reader#kpop x reader#kpop x male reader#pov smut#iz days of christmas#iz days of christmas 2023#iz days of christmas 2023 day 1#kofimission#commission
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Monday of Appreciation: Part 66
Hello everyone, Smite here!
I hope you've had a nice week. It's (already/almost) the holidays and only a couple days before Christmas. Stay warm in this time or have a cold drink if you live in another part of the world where it is colder. It's crazy to think that another year has passed by and will be wrapped up shortly.
Update: There is no surprise/special planned from my side and I also do not intend to do a year-end voting about your favorite fics of mine. I will also probably not finish any new fic in time, sorry. With that said, enjoy Christmas!
-1-
@iznsfw: Fancam ft. Chaewon
This you, Kaede? I was slamming my fist on my desk repeatedly. The first part was already great, but then IZ just got ANOTHER one up his sleeve and runs us over like a truck. Another grand slam in this series. I'm so looking forward to the others (the last I'll read will be Minju, HYPEEEEE)
-2-
@noblenobi: Say My Name ft. Chaeyoung (TWICE)
NOBI. IS. BACK. This should be enough reason to read this. If not, then look at the Chaeyoung picture and imagine her going to town on poor, poor you. This had me distracted and gasping late at night, fucking awesome.
-3-
@rosiesmuts: Not Quite Freest Use ft. Somi
Ah yes, Rosie and great Somi fics. They go hand in hand. I have someone in my asks wanting a bimbo Somi... but I don't see the reason. This is just so good, similar pictures and I just... want to taste those delicious tits. Okay, fuck, maybe I'll give her a go too.
-4-
@chunksworld: Behind Closed Doors ft. Yujin (IVE)
Yujin BFH? Yujin BFH. If this doesn't make your heart sputter and gets you going, I dunno what else will. The outfit, the setting, the build up waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Thank God they have sound proof walls kekw.
See yaaaaaaaaa ;)
#mondayofappreciation#ive smut#twice smut#ioi smut#le sserafim smut#izone smut#yujin smut#chaewon smut#chaeyoung smut#somi smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#male reader smut
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Happy Belated Birthday @alilypea! Your support and friendship over this year has simply been amazing, and I hope you enjoy your fic :).
Fandom/Pairing: Roswell New Mexico, Michael/Alex
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/3
Summary: Will a series of misunderstandings ruin Michael and Alex's first festive season as a couple? Or will the two of them finally confide in each other in time to save Christmas?
Can also be read on A03.
*****
Michael scuffed his boots along the cheery 'Merry Christmas' mat outside of Isobel's house. He wished that he was anywhere but there, asking his older sister for advice, but he had run through the list of his friends in his head, and unfortunately, Iz was the only one he felt comfortable asking this sort of question.
Max would remember that all those perfect Evan's Christmases around the tree never included Michael and look at him with pity, which is something he never wanted, especially from Max.
Kyle, heck he's surprised that he even put Kyle on a list of friends even though it was only a mental list, but he would just turn around and blab his inquiry back to Isobel, so there was no point in bothering him.
Same goes with Liz...too many of his friends were dating his siblings, it was awkward.
He had been tempted, incredibly tempted to ask Maria. He felt of all their friends, that she would be the most compassionate about his question, definitely not look at him with pity in her eyes. But he knew that the holidays were a busy time at the Pony, and he...well he still felt awkward about asking her for anything after their relationship, and after he got back together with Alex.
And Alex. He couldn't ask Alex, this was something he wanted to do for Alex, not make Alex carry the weight and do the leg work, so to speak.
So here he was. At his older sister's ready to ask what felt like a silly question: how to celebrate Christmas.
---
Earlier that day, Michael had been searching for his stash of festive decorations. After digging through his closet in the airstream and coming up empty, he remembered putting some lights down in the bunker for an extra light source, although he was fairly certain they were, in fact, Christmas lights.
Narrowly avoiding hitting his head on a box full of nuts and bolts, Michael slid out of the closet and headed down into the bunker. He was pleased to see that yes, the lights he had strung over the one workstation were Christmas lights, but it was merely a single strand. Nevertheless, he pulled them down carefully, carelessly emptying another box lying around to put them into.
A single strand of Christmas lights, laying in an otherwise empty cardboard box, stared back at him. It almost felt like they were judging him for his poor festive spirit. Michael glared back. He had a complicated relationship with the holidays.
Michael had always been a big fan of the decorations, the festive lights, the Christmas tree, the colours. But he wasn’t a fan of the other baggage that came along with the holidays; the stress, money struggles...the drinking.
If he had to rank the Christmases that he experienced over the years while he was in a foster home...the best would have been that time with the religious cult-like parents, if you could avoid the demon possession discussion that took place just afterwards. No presents of course, but they at least celebrated the holiday.
Honorable mention goes to that time when Isobel and Max convinced the Evans family to host a friend’s get-together. It wasn’t his fault that the first time the Evan’s invited him over for Christmas that the lights on the tree exploded when Max saw Liz enter the room in a tight, red dress. But somehow he never got invited back after that.
And worst, well, he wasn’t going there.
He and Alex had never been dating or hooking up, or whatever state their relationship was actually in at the time at the holiday season either. So Michael had no idea how Alex celebrated the holidays, and he felt awkward asking.
Michael shook his head, waving away his lingering, depressive thoughts and closed the lid, not needing any more attitude from a single strand of lights. Enough of those thoughts. How hard can Christmas really be after all?
And with that renewed outlook, Michael decided to leave the box behind and start fresh.
---
Raising his hand to knock on the door, Michael wasn’t surprised when it swung open before his hand could make contact. Taking his hat off as he entered the door, he followed Isobel into the living room.
Everything, and he meant everything was adorned with Christmas decorations. From the potted evergreen plant at the front door, to the red flowers on the front table, to the garland and lights strung everywhere. The Christmas tree in the living room was gorgeous. Towering at 8 feet tall, it’s star just skimmed the roof, and almost every branch had lights on it.
“With or without booze?” Isobel asked, raising two mugs in the air, and nodding her head in the direction of the alcohol.
“Definitely with the booze,” Michael answered, slumping down into the couch. The two of them sat for several minutes, sipping their hot chocolate. Salted caramel, if Michael’s taste buds weren’t lying to him.
“So what’s up Michael?” Isobel finally asked, breaking the silence. Setting her mug down on the coffee table, she leaned forward, her elbows resting on her legs.
Michael set down his mug, shifting his one leg overtop of the other. He tried to think about what he was going to ask, but what came out was one word. “Christmas.”
Isobel looked puzzled, her nose doing that little scrunch. “What about Christmas?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. Michael could see when she started to figure it out, as she shifted back onto the couch, her body looking more relaxed. “Okay, so is this a ‘what do I get the love of my life for Christmas’ or ‘what is Christmas’?”
Crap, Michael hadn’t even started to figure out what to buy Alex for a gift, now he had to add that to his list of things he didn’t know. “More like, how to celebrate Christmas?”
At Isobel’s blank look, he elaborated a bit more. “I understand the tree and all that, figured we would go pick one out soon, but what are some of the activities that you do at Christmas time? That you think Alex might like to do?”
Isobel’s blank look turned into a wide grin. She then reached across, pulling him by the arm so that he was now sitting next to her. “This is so exciting, I’m like your festive guru!” She exclaimed, feeling down along the side of the couch, as if she was looking for something. Holding up the remote with gusto, she indicated for Michael to grab one of the red and black plaid blankets on the end of the couch.
“Now, let me introduce to you, the wonderful world of Hallmark Christmas movies!”
---
Four hours later…and about three movies later, Michael was starting to get a good list of activities that he and Alex could do. And he wouldn’t spread this too far, but sitting under a warm blanket, cuddling with hot chocolate while watching more Hallmark Christmas movies might just be at the top of his list.
Taking a look at the time, Michael realized that he better get going if he wanted to make it back in time to start dinner. He reluctantly extracted himself from the warm blanket, and pulled on his hat and jacket.
Isobel slowly moved after him, walking him towards the door. Michael could tell that she was distracted, her eyes still glancing back towards the living room. But Michael could also see that she was mouthing the words along with the video, and figured a brief interruption wouldn’t hurt.
As he opened the front door, he turned towards his older sister and leaned in for a quick hug. “Thanks Iz, for all of this. I was stressed about the festive season, and struggling with everything with Alex…a-and this helped me out a lot. Love you,” he added, figuring why the heck not.
“Don’t be a stranger, alright?” She whispered in his ear as she returned his hug. “And don’t forget, I expect you and Alex here for my Christmas Eve party!”
Michael nodded, and turned towards his truck. He was surprised to bump into Alex as he turned. His arm shot out to steady his boyfriend. “Hey, I was hoping to beat you home to start making dinner, what are you doing here?” Michael asked, confused to see Alex there.
Alex grabbed his elbow for stability. “Oh, I got done work early, was going to ask Isobel if she needed us to bring anything for the party,” Alex replied, regaining his balance quickly.
“Just for the two of you to actually show up!” Isobel shouted out from her door, having overheard Alex’s comment. She then waved to both men and headed back inside.
Michael noticed out of the corner of his eye Alex appeared tense after Isobel’s comment. Shaking it off, he headed towards his truck. “Do you want to make something at the cabin or pop by the Crashdown?” Michael said, now in the mood to sample their new peppermint milkshake.
“Let’s just go home, I’m kind of tired,” Alex said, following behind Michael a bit slower.
Michael just nodded and climbed into his truck. Alex seemed a bit off balance still, he hoped he hadn’t messed up his leg when they ran into each other. Maybe tonight’s a good night for a hot bath…Michael thought as he began the drive home.
—
Well, it turned out to not be a good night for a hot bath, or anything for that matter. Alex ate dinner, cobbled together the bare minimum of conversation, and then went straight to bed, completely forgetting their usual goodnight kiss. Michael had found himself staring at where Alex had been sitting, wondering what he had done for way too long, finally dragging himself to bed just after midnight.
And now, he was waking to an empty bed, the sheets cold where Alex would have laid. Pulling on a pair of jeans and one of Alex’s sweatshirts, Michael shuffled to the kitchen, wondering if his boyfriend was still around. But the only hint that another person had even been in the cabin was the fresh pot of coffee, the strong smell of roasted coffee beans hitting Michael as he stepped into the room.
He smiled at Alex’s silent apology, knowing that he would have had to reset the timer for when Michael normally got up around. As he poured a large cup for himself, he still had to wonder though. Where was Alex?
#roswell new mexico#malex#michael guerin/alex manes#Christmas Fic#misunderstandings#emotional hurt/comfort#there will be festive fluff!#gift fic
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A Lesbian’s thoughts on Happiest Season
So, I really enjoyed The Happiest Season because it was a gay holiday movie and the great casting, especially Kristen Stewart, Dan Levy, Aubrey Plaza, and Mary Holland.
But
The closeted storyline is written way too heavy for what was marketed as a holiday movie. Like, yes, it technically occurs during the week of Christmas, but it’s not a holiday movie. A holiday movie doesn’t have the lead character crying several times because she isn’t sure she truly knows who her girlfriend is, and isn’t sure she’ll ever be accepted into her gf’s shitty family.
For this movie to be a holiday movie, there would have to be way more antics like Abby setting the roomba off in the closet and the ice skating race between Harper and Sloan and way less heart-wrenching scenes like Abby texting goodnight to Harper at 1:15 am knowing she’s out with her ex-boyfriend and Harper acting like a complete bitch the next morning when Abby checks on her.
Is it authentic? Yes, painfully so. Every LGBTQ+ person who had a rough coming out to family will feel like they’ve been gut punched. They’ll be thinking about it for days.
Should it have been marketed as a holiday movie? Hell no. Maybe to straights? But once again it’s a lesbian movie that tries to be a mainstream film but accidentally adds too much realism and puts a heavy damper on what could have been a more light-hearted holiday film.
But, then it would have been Hollywood-ized and many would also complain of that.
There’s no winning when it comes to gay films. It reminds me of how Daniel Levy’s character, John reacts when Abby says she’s probably going to ask Harper’s dad for Harper’s hand in marriage. He’s appalled that Abby would be caving to the patriarchy. But isn’t that one of the peak heteronormative scenarios when getting engaged? How can you fault a lesbian for wanting what she’s grown up seeing in society?
This film is a gay film wanting the heteronormative holiday movie experience but it’s gay and like most realistic gay films, too heavy with baggage to fit the cookie cutter mold.
That being said, how many people watching wanted Abby to end up exploring something with Riley? The scenes between Abby and Riley were very good, in small part because it was a reprieve from the heavy Harper storyline but also because they had chemistry to spare. Aubrey Plaza has always been the queen of intense looks but in this film she used her body language to set the pot on simmer the entire movie.
Also good was the scene where the three daughters confess to/confront their parents. I’ll try to ignore how the parents went from super shitty people who fucked their kids up emotionally to amazingly understanding parents in the course of an hour, because hey, we really needed a happy ending here. I also love how kind and awesome Jane is, and how her book ends up published. Honestly, I think if they did a sequel to this film we could actually get the light-hearted holiday movie we wanted and needed. ❤️
#happiest season#kristen stewart#mackenzie davis#aubrey plaza#mary holland#dan levy#clea duvall#alison brie#lesbian films#gay films#lgbtq films
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HD'S FESTIVE ADVENT CALENDAR DAY 5: K-POP PLAYLIST INSPIRED BY THE CAROL 12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS! 🌳🕊💍🦢💃🎵
Hey everybody! How are you all doing? I can't quite believe that it's the 5th of December already! ONLY 20 MORE SLEEPS TILL CHRISTMAS! I'm SO EXCITED!
Today I thought I'd post something a bit different. I've created a playlist inspired by all the items listed in the carol 12 days of Christmas. It was honestly so much fun to make and I got to listen to a few new artists as well whilst I was compiling this list!
Anyway I hope you have fun listening to this compilation and maybe find some new songs/ artists that you've not heard of before!
Let's get this party started! FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LAAAAAAA!
🌳 A partridge in a pear tree
Tree Only Look At You By (너의 나무) Heize (헤이즈) ft Jooyoung
Pine Tree (소나무) By Wanna One
나무 (Tree) By 카더가든 (Car, the garden)
Wish Tree By Red Velvet
🕊 2 Turtle Doves
Turtle By Twice
🐓 3 French Hens
Chicken Noodle Soup By J-Hope ft. Becky G
Paris By 오반 (OVAN), 런치 (LUNCH)
🐦 4 Colly Birds (Calling Birds)
Call By Sunmi
Bird By NAMJOO (APINK)
Bird By HA SUNG WOON (하성운)
Blue Bird By Solar (솔라)
Little Bird By BoA (보아)
The Blue Bird (파랑새) By APRIL (에이프릴)
Call Me Maybe True Beauty OST Part.1 By SAya (사야) (Just sayin' this is such a TUUUUNE! I absolutely love this song so so much!)
Call It Love By 청하 (CHUNGHA)
'What Do I Call You' By TAEYEON 태연
Morning Call 모닝콜 By HYOLYN 효린
DON’T CALL ME AGAIN By TWICE
When You Call My Name By ASTRO
내 이름을 불러줘 (Call My Name) By 김동한 (Kim Dong Han)
💍 5 Gold rings
Ring Ring By Rocket Punch
Gold By Wanna One (워너원)
🦢 6 geese-a-laying
Golden Goose By A.C.E (에이스)
🦢 7 swans-a-swimming
Swim Away By Sejeong
Swim 수영해 By 유라 Youra
Secret Story of the Swan (환상동화) By IZ*ONE (아이즈원)
Black Swan By BTS
Swan By Oh My Girl 오마이걸
Swimming By Im Hyunsik from BTOB
Sukhumvit Swimming (스쿰빗스위밍) By ONF (온앤오프)
Swim [수영해] By Bobby
🥛 8 maids-a-milking
Milk (우유) By EXID (이엑스아이디) Hani Solo
Milkshake By Red Velvet
Milky Way By Red Velvet
Milky Way By Golden Child
💃💃💃 9 ladies dancing
Permission To Dance By BTS
D-D-DANCE By IZ*ONE
Dance The Night Away By TWICE
Dun Dun Dance By Oh My Girl
Last Dance By G-Idle
Ladies Night By Red Velvet
Last Waltz By Twice
Dance On My Own By Loona
Dance In The Moonlight By Berrygood
D.D.D By The Boyz
Last Dance By Treasure
Dancing Till We Drop By The Boyz
Dance With Us (춤을 출 거야) By SF9
My Lady By BTOB
LADY (내일해) By EXID
LADY By Golden Child 골든차일드
Still My Lady (여전히 예뻐) By SF9
Lady By After School 애프터스쿨
Ugly Dance (춤춰) By ONF
Let Me Dance By EVERGLOW
Let’s Dance (신난다) By B-Ryong (비룡) (SSAK3) Feat. Mamamoo (마마무)
DANCE FOR TWO (둘만의 춤) By AB6IX
Let’s Dance By Super Junior
Dance Dance By Day6
I Just Wanna Dance By Tiffany
'I’m In the Mood for Dancing' [True Beauty OST Part 2] By GFRIEND 'Yuju'
🤵 10 lords-a-leaping
Jumpin’ By Red Velvet
Jump By BTS
Jopping By SuperM
방방 뛰어 Fanatic By SF9 (방방 뛰어 = To Jump around excitedly)
Gentleman By SF9
📯 11 pipers piping
Pied Piper By BTS
🥁 12 drummers drumming
Hit that drum By Red Velvet
Drummer Boy By APINK
Happy Listening Everyone! X
Notes: Gifs not created by me. All credit should go to the original creator. I just searched for them on tumblr!
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A mini writer survey for you! What is…
* Your favorite song from your bias group?
* Your least favorite song from your bias group?
* A song from your bias group that deserves more attention?
* Your favorite song from your bias group?
Girl's Generation - Girl's Generation
AOA - 10 Seconds
Girls' Day - I Miss You
Apink - I'm so sick
Dreamcatcher - Piri
I.O.I - Ping-pong
IZ*ONE - La Vie en Rose
Red Velvet - Bad Boy
Fromis_9 - We Go
LOONA - Butterfly
Pristin / Pristin V - Wee Woo / Get It
Lovelyz - That Day
Rocket Punch - Bim Bam Bum
* Your least favorite song from your bias group?
Girl's Generation - Diamond (Cute, but too Christmasy?)
AOA - Good Luck (Sexy MV though)
Girls' Day - Don't Forget Me (Pre-Expect Me GsD was weird)
Apink - I Don't Know (They did tear down the cute charts with NoNoNo though)
Dreamcatcher - None (?) even the slow ballads are nice even for just background play.
I.O.I - Hand-in-Hand (The OG was amazing enough for 1988, they should've left it alone)
IZ*ONE - SSOTS (Banger but when it first came out, it was surreal)
Red Velvet - Most of their Japanese releases
Fromis_9 - None (so far)
LOONA - So What (I just found the code switch weird after almost a whole year without anything, come at me!)
Pristin has no bad songs because they never had that much to begin with. *eternal middle finger to Pledis*
Lovelyz - Amusement Park (It's just so fucking hilarious)
Rocket Punch - None (so far)
* A song(s) from your bias group that deserves more attention?
Girl's Generation - Way to Go / Talk Talk / Check / Wait A Minute / Almost every members solo Korean albums (Yuri and Hyoyeon excluded though) / ALL OF THEIR JAPANESE RELEASES - ALL OF IT.
AOA - Under the Streetlights / 10 Seconds
Girls' Day - I Miss You / Thirsty / Hello Bubble / Minah's I am a woman too
Apink - Boom Pow Love / Sunday Monday / Eunji's Away
Dreamcatcher - And there was no one left / Breaking Out / Deja Vu (if you're an Insomnia already, good on you) / Break The Wall / Alldaylong
I.O.I - Ping-pong / It is Fire Play (odd translation ik) / Crush
IZ*ONE - Merry-go-round / Mise-en-scene / Colors / Rise (Jonas Blue, that was a surprise) / Nekoni Naritai (both versions) / Toshishita Boyfriend /
Red Velvet - Wendy's Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas / Automatic / Be Natural / LP / In N Out / Day 1 / Sunny Afternoon
Fromis_9 - Miracle
LOONA - OEC - Sweet Crazy Love / ChuuVes - Girls Talk / LipSoul - Love Letter / Perfect Love / Where you at / Yeolgi / Stylish
Pristin / Pristin V - Black Widow / Aloha / Spotlight / Get It (It’s that fucking good)
Lovelyz - Close to you / Temptation / Cameo / Destiny / Night and Day / Goodnight Like Yesterday / Moonlight (Queendom) / Obliviate
Rocket Punch - Twinkle Star / SVTs Oh My! cover / Ride / I Want U Bad / So Solo
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5,900 followers!
So! I’ve been on tumblr since about August 2013 now. I had been away from fandom in general for a solid 3-4 years by that point, having left the Harry Potter fandom after a good deal of waning interest, which was definitely accelerated by basically everything about JKR (and this was before she outed herself as a major TERF) - adding to the canon with random shit she would say in interviews, etc, the whole “Dumbledore is gay” - but not in actual canon, including not making it canon in the movies that came after, etc. When I left the HP fandom, fandom in general was still very much on livejournal, though due to endless issues with LJ, people had already started drifting off to other platforms, which led to a widespread sensation of the fandom breaking up. My offline life got busy, I started my masters, and just didn’t have either the time or the interest in writing HP fanfic anymore. I had written 1.5 million words of fic and figured I was about out of words, anyway. My longtime friend, @moonflower-rose, had designed me an icon with the Latin phrase cacoethes scribendi, which basically means an endless mania for writing. I had started to feel that I wasn’t living up to that anymore, too, so I just quietly disappeared.
Fast forward to 2013 and my encountering the ridiculous talents of Benedict Cumberbatch via Star Trek Into Darkness (still think that title needs a colon, but what can you do) and immediately needing to see everything else he’d ever done. I’d heard of Sherlock in my last, lingering days on LJ, but hadn’t decided to delve into it at all. At this point, only series 1 and 2 were out, though setlock photos for series 3 started emerging just after I plunged wholeheartedly into the Sherlock fandom. I was hooked immediately by Ben and Martin’s acting, by the interesting stories (though I was irked from the beginning of the treatment of Irene Adler and the imposition of a hetero-ized romance of two obviously (one canonically!) gay characters). I was irked by the lazy writing and easy outs that Moffat and Gatiss always seem to prefer. Nevertheless, I was only about halfway through The Reichenbach Fall when I was seized with a feeling that was half sinking and half elated: that I needed to write about these two people. The old urge had come back, and it came back hard.
Now, a little over six years later, I’m over 2.3 million words deep into this fandom, with 88 posted stories and another that’s over 16,000 words in at this point. And the place where I re-found fandom and all of the community that comes with it, was here. It’s still astounding to me that anyone reads my stories. It’s astounding to me that 5,900 of you follow me. It’s really, really cool. :)
I used to make a post like this about every 100 new followers, but I’ve sort of slacked off it lately. If you’ve been following me for a long time, this will be repetitive and I’m sorry! But here goes:
-I generally follow everyone back, with the rider that, if the blog posts too much untagged content that I’m not interested in and can’t filter out because of the lack of tags, I’ll unfollow, just because that’s a lot of blogs. Sometimes tumblr doesn’t show me who followed me. If you’re following me and I’m not following you back and you wish I were, please, please, please just drop me a line and say so and I’ll fix it!
-I post my stories at ao3. I have not imported my HP stuff and have no desire to do so. You can still find it at skyehawke.com. As long as skyehawke is still up and running, I will leave my HP stories there. Meanwhile, my Sherlock stuff is all posted here at ao3.
-if you’re someone who has the means to support writers and artists in the fandom and that’s something you’re interested in doing, I do have a Patreon account. It’s over here. I always feel intensely squirmy about promoting this and only have it because @ravenmorganleigh made me get it (bless, lol). As a person who is perpetually struggling to make ends meet, I feel badly because I can never afford to support anyone else financially (every month that I make the rent is a win, basically). The donations people make through my Patreon have often meant the difference between being able to buy groceries or not. I don’t mean to be dramatic about this, but that’s literally the case, and I’m endlessly, endlessly grateful to every single dollar anyone has ever donated. But please don’t ever feel that you need to do this and please don’t if it isn’t something you can afford! I mean that. Also, my Patreon is set up for monthly contributions, and if you’re just dying to make a donation but want it to be a one-time thing, I also use PayPal, via my fandom email account, which is [email protected].
I’ve met some of the most amazing people here in this place and I’m very glad that I chose to come back to fandom, to find my own creative voice again, to have this chance to discuss and share excitement or rage or humour, and to be a part of so many of your lives, in whatever small way. I always get introspective at this time of the year, since it’s not only about to be a new year, but my birthday is also right at the end of the year (it’s December 30th), so I always end up having Big Thoughts About Life in this window between Christmas at the end of the year. Today, this is my Big Thought: how grateful I am to have all of you, in whatever large or small way, in my life. <3333333333333333333333
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The Blackboard Jungle: All I Want For Christmas Is You (Part 4)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Izzy tweeted! And in celebration, here’s the final part of this fic
Tag list @izzysdenimjacket @no-stone-no-bone @sexcoffeeandrockandroll @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands @smokeandmirrorz @sodalitefully @roger-taylors-car @harley-m-rose @whisperess33 @shawolat @80snikki @rumoured-whispers
Warnings: the f-bomb, total holiday fluff
You wound your way through the department store, dodging people and wanting to puke from all the Christmas music as you searched for your mother a nice gift. She was the last one you had to buy for, and you wanted to get her just the perfect thing this year.
I think she has plenty of snow globes, you thought, absentmindedly turning one upside down and watching the glitter float down, then heard someone call your name.
You turned and looked into the grinning face of Miss Peterson, Patti’s third-grade teaching cohort.
“Hiiiii, doll,” she chirped.
“Hello, Cindy, how are you?”
“Oh, I’m just great. Are you shopping for your boyfriend?”
“My boyfriend? I don’t-”
“Patti told me all about it. I mean, well she made a long post on Instagram, how the two of you had been friends for so long, good friends, at least she was to you, and you chose that Jeff Isbell over the happiest day of her life-”
“Did she really?” you snapped. “Well, since the two of you are so close, please tell her I said, ‘Merry Christmas.’” And go fuck yourselves, you thought, deciding your mother would enjoy a very nice pair of diamond earrings.
It was unbelievable to you, how you and Jeff were the names on everyone’s lips anymore, especially since it was all so mistaken. It was heartbreaking how everyone thought you were a couple, when you were simply coworkers who were also close friends.
Of course, you were never able to get him out of your head, especially since the Thanksgiving program. Your combined classes had first traced their hands and colored their drawings in, decorating their turkey pictures with feathers and googly eyes (you stifled a laugh watching the Harrison twins hungrily eyeing the paste, and snorted when you saw Jeff leaping over a chair with his gangly legs to glue their turkey eyes down himself) and enjoying their lunches together.
He had excused himself during the break, and you paused while eating your sandwich, thinking about how really good he was as a teacher, how he never once talked down to the kids or lost his patience with them. He always had time to listen to them, hanging onto their every word.
And they loved him in return, every single one of them showing them their turkeys the second they finished them, and the amount of praise he heaped on their artwork made you smile.
Putting away your lunch bag with a sigh, you looked up just in time to see a six foot tall turkey, complete with wattles, standing in the doorway of your classroom. His tail feathers were so impressive he had to turn sideways just to make it through the doorway.
The children erupted in cheers, and Mr. Isbell strode in and fanned his plumage to their great delight, then announced that if they all quieted down, he would read to them, “Bear Gives Thanks.” After he closed the book, he asked them what they all were thankful for.
He got various answers, from “my new puppy” to “my dad got a new job.” But the one that stood out the most was from Cicely Brown. She raised her hand and said in a quiet voice, “Mr. Isbell, I’m thankful for a teacher like you.”
Tears pooled in his eyes, and you heard a catch in his voice when he whispered, “Thank you.” He turned around (well, awkwardly walked in a circle to turn around) to you and asked, “Miss Y/L/N, what are you thankful for?”
“Hmmm. I’m thankful for friends. And I’m thankful for every person that’s in this room.”
His eyes met yours, his smoldering gaze still able to buckle your knees. “Me too.”
“But I don’t want to be an elf.”
“Oh, c’mon, Y/N, I went and got an elf costume just for you. Where’s your Christmas spirit?”
You put your hands on your hips and pouted. “I have plenty of Christmas spirit. Why can’t I be Mrs. Claus?”
“Because she doesn’t hand out candy canes. She stays home and entertains strange men while Santa works all night.”
“Oh, she does not!” You smacked Jeff’s arm, shaking your head. He really was going to talk you into this getup, wasn’t he?”
You took it from him and he said, “Hurry up and get changed. I need you to help me put on the Santa suit.”
“Why do you need help?” you called from the coatroom, pulling your green and red striped tights on.
“Because I make a skinny Santa, and I have to hold the belly while you button the jacket.”
When you came out, he had already changed into his Santa pants and boots and was sitting at your desk expectantly holding a pillow over his chest and stomach.
“Jeff, you really should eat more if you want to wear this suit,” you laughed, buttoning the buttons over his padded belly.
He made a face, and you said, “What?”
“Nobody calls me Jeff except for my mom.”
“What do they call you?” you asked, puzzled.
“Izzy. Or Iz, if you’re into the whole brevity thing.” He buckled his belt as all the wind left you, then he slapped your elf hat onto your head. Flicking the bell to make it jingle, he said, “C’mon, Sugar Cookie, let’s make a bunch of little people happy.”
It was entirely possible that you wished all the students a Joyous Holiday and handed them a candy cane after they visited with Santa. You had no idea if you actually did, the earth had screamed to a halt after you’d heard Jef-uh, Izzy’s admission.
After all the pupils had left, he shot you a delighted grin, then furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Hey, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” you said softly. “I’m….hot.”
“Me too. Let’s get changed and go back to the party.”
Although you were dazed, you flung your elf costume off in record time, exiting the coatroom in time to see Izzy unbutton his Santa jacket and toss aside his pillow. He slumped in your chair clad in a white undershirt, slinging an arm against his forehead to wipe off the sweat, and when he dropped it down beside him you could see a tattoo just below his elbow.
Without thinking, you walked over to him and picked up his wrist. Written in delicate script high on his inner forearm was desperadosdreams.
He tried to pull away from you, then he noticed you gasping for air with tears in your eyes. “Does that make sense to you?” he asked quietly.
You nodded, then pressed your lips to his, leaning down and throwing your arms around his neck. When you pulled away for a breath, you looked into his eyes, then pushed the sleeve of your shirt up and extended your arm.
“Does that say IZ?” he asked in a halting voice, and you nodded again, then climbed onto his lap for another passionate kiss. You carded your fingers through his hair as his lips traveled down the front of your throat, then he rubbed his nose against yours as you heard PJ Jones say, “I saw Miss Teacher kissing Santa Claus. And he liked it!”
“Hi, Ian!” you smiled, holding up your ring finger.
“Hi!” he grinned. “Ooh, that’s nice! Congratulations!”
You held your phone toward Izzy. “Ian, this is Izzy.”
“Oh, shit, he’s cute,” Sia said. “Hi, Sexy!”
“Izzy, this is Sia. She’s Ian’s fiancee.”
“Well……” she said, then they both held up their ring fingers.
“Omigosh! You guys got married?!” you exclaimed.
“Yes! I had to promote ‘Sharknado’ at the MGM Grand, and well, since we were in Vegas, we-”
Sia interrupted, “We found this Elvis impersonator, and it was so tacky and cool, I couldn’t have asked for a better wedding.”
“Congratulations! Can you guys come to ours?”
“When is it?” Ian asked, with Sia hollering “Hell yeah!” in the background.
“Next spring. We don’t want to wait that long.” You leaned over and pecked Izzy on the lips. “We’ve waited our whole lives to find each other, we want our married life to begin as soon as possible.”
Thank you so much for being a part of this fic! Because of wedding plans and moving and all that good jazz, I won’t be writing fics online anymore, but I will never forget how wonderful it was to have all your support. Love you always, desperadosdreams
“I do,” you said.
“You bet I do,” Blaze said, sliding your beautiful wedding band on your finger.
“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Blaze, kiss your bride,”
He swept you in his strong arms, spinning you around, then dipped you and kissed you hard, the first kiss of the rest of your lives, as the fiery red sun sank in the horizon behind the two of you.
Now it was time for the two of you to begin your lives together, and dream as one. And as he kissed you again, you knew you’d found forever, and he had been worth waiting for.
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