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lustspren · 4 months

Text

Ko Ko Bop ft Aespa. 1/2

length: 20.5k words ✦

Aespa & Male Reader

Sequel to Erinyes.

genres: little bit bdsm, bi, voyeur, oral sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, blowjob, creampie, thighjob, party sex, squirt, pool sex, dirty talk

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After that experience you told yourself that it would never be repeated, it had been something too crazy and reckless on your part as well as that of Ryujin and the other girls, you enjoyed it like a bastard, being high and fucking that trio of beautiful girls inside a luxurious mansion, but it was a resounding no for you.

That morning you had woken up several hours later, around 6 or 7 in the morning, and since there was no type of authority visible to the people inside the party, the whole house became complete and utter chaos, in true style of some kind of X Project where luckily and thank god the police or some crazy person with a flamethrower didn’t showed up, but Ryujin (and some of her close friends within the party) had had to use her own money to cover repairs.

You had to stay practically all day with them, being in charge of sending all the people home one by one in the most kind and calm way you could, some guys behaved like dicks and refused to leave, but to at noon, only you, Ryujin, Minjeong and Ning were left in the house. They asked you to stay for lunch, and so you did, but as soon as you finished your meal you went straight back to the comfort of your home.

During the rest of winter break you had a few more encounters with the three of them, especially with Minjeong, whose somewhat cold attitude softened and transformed into something much warmer and affectionate, she was still an introverted little princess and still cold towards other people, but with you or the girls she always behaved with a sweetness that slowly dragged you to want more than a friendship with her, but your mindset was not the right one at that moment to try something.

Although your relationship with Ning and Minjeong had improved considerably after that winter vacation, physical contact during school days was rather little since your head could not be anywhere else but in your studies and in your grades, you talked by text message with both of them, more with Minjeong than with Ning, but every time one of them told you to go out and have a drink you politely refused. You only went out with Minjeong to the movies once, but you couldn't have any post-movie plans since you had to immediately go home to study. You felt very bad about it, but Minjeong understood it with a lot of maturity and empathy.

With Ryujin, however, things were much more different. You were college classmates and your schedules coincided 100% of the time, so you spent much more time together than you were used to months ago. You fucked, you fucked a lot. Normally there was no particular excuse to do it, you just did it whenever you had the chance, most of the time in your homes when it was 'study night', and the rest in public places which you were embarrassed to remember.

Despite all this, you somehow managed not to develop any kind of love interest in each other, everything had remained a simple friends-with-benefits relationship with which you were more than comfortable. You always opened up to each other and told each other your problems, especially on days of frustration and severe stress with university as the main culprit, but at the end of the day it all boiled down to a purely sexual attraction.

She and Minjeong were a great support to you throughout the semester, and you were looking forward to summer so you could finally spend time with them without having to worry about a damn exam next week. The first week you met Ning and Minjeong to go out to dinner, a fun night in which Ning got stupidly drunk and you had to take her to your apartment since she refused to go to hers that night, in the end Minjeong gave in to your plea to not leave you alone taking care of her, so the three of you slept together that night. You slept cuddling with Minjeong, and the tensions of the day led to a fuck in the middle of the night where you and her were still more asleep than awake. Ning never noticed.

You didn't meet Ryujin for a few days, but you talked a lot via text message. She seemed quite excited about something, but it was still a mystery to you what, it wasn't until the beginning of the second week of July when you found out. Another damn party at her house. Obviously it was a resounding no at first, but Ryujin had a great damn talent for sweetening your ear in such a way that any idea seemed brilliant and rational. Her pretext this time had been that there would be very few people, but you didn't believe a single word she said.

Yet there you were, in a taxi on the way to the damned house, dressed in white shorts, a baggy navy blue shirt, a white cap, and white sneakers. Every second you spent in the back seat of that car was a second in which you kept thinking that in a few hours you were going to regret the decision you had made, you would think differently, but you were so used to Ryujin lying to you that it was already too difficult to get out of that mindset.

When the taxi left you outside the house and you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you were surprised not to hear loud music coming from inside the villa. Your first thought was that surely not enough people had arrived yet, so you didn't get excited yet. You passed through the gate and you were also surprised to see absolutely no one at the windows or outside, when last time at that point the disaster was such that you could notice it without even entering, you thought that perhaps everyone would be gathered in the living room, so that didn't help you either.

You reached the door and rang the bell a couple of times, waiting patiently for someone to open, finally your best friend and spicy hostess appeared under the wide wooden frame, dressed in a white baseball t-shirt that covered her jean shorts and a small white top. She looked you up and down and smiled triumphantly knowing that, once again, you signed up as an accomplice in her plans.

"Don't you dare say a single word, Shin Ryujin," you said, raising your finger to walk past her and enter inside.

"I was just going to say that you look very handsome!" she laughed.

"I always do, you don't need to remind me," you responded, walking with your back to her towards the living room near the piano, your friendship was already at a point of trust in which you walked around that house as if it were yours.

"Fuck, how humble," she followed you from behind, "Hey, why so serious?"

"Because you dragged me again to another party that's going to get out of hand," you passed through the kitchen and went up a couple steps, you could already see the piano that preceded one of the outdoor rooms.

"Uh? Why would that happen?" she was now walking beside you.

"When people start arriving you'll see," you finally passed the piano, passed through a small hallway with a wooden credenza on the left to finally reach your destination, getting a pleasant surprise.

"What people are you talking about?" Ryujin frowned, standing next to you while you looked at Minjeong, lying on the wide gray sofa, Ning, sitting at a small circular legless table, and a couple of girls you had never seen before.

"Where are the others?" You asked, frowning, upon hearing your voice, Ning and Minjeong (who's eyes lit up when she saw you), turned around at the same time. The two unknown girls also turned to look at you.

"Honey, did you take your schizophrenia pills today?" Ryujin placed the back of her hand on your neck. You turned to look at her.

"Are you telling me there's no one else here?" your disbelief made her laugh.

"Nope," she denied with a giggle, "did you think I was lying to you again?"

"You said it, again. It wouldn't have been the first time you do it."

"But this time I didn't. Look," she turned to the girls, who were still looking at you, "you know these two sluts already," she said, referring to Ning and Minjeong, but then took your hand to lead you towards one from the unknown girls, who was sitting in a chair in the corner, with her legs resting on a stool in front, "this is Jimin."

"Uh... hello, my pleasure," Jimin, whose beauty had you perplexed from the beginning, lowered her legs from the stool and slightly bowed as a cordial greeting, a small shy smile on her face. She was wearing a long beach skirt with jean shorts underneath it, a bikini top with straps to the neck and two long sleeves, the same pattern as the top.

"Pleasure is mine," you smiled back, "nice hair," you said, looking at her long, black, slightly curly hair.

"Oh," she opened her mouth and made a cute shocked expression at your compliment, "thank you," another bow, and another little smile.

"Isn't she a sweetie?" Ryujin asked, rubbing Jimin's chin with her fingers, "she's a genius, she studies medicine and she kicks your butt academically."

"Huh? No way," you took that personally.

"What was your GPA this semester?" Jimin asked.

"3.7"

"4.0" (A+, the highest grade.)

"What?!" You yelled, "Wow, that's impressive."

"Well, I'm really passionate about my career," she laughed, playing modesty.

"Yeah yeah, I'm sure you do," Ryujin took your hand again and led you outside the room shadow, stopping next to the girl who was standing on the grass with a cigarette between her fingers. She was incredibly hot, her revealing outfit showed off a pair of long, fleshy legs, adorned with jean shorts that covered her belly, she was also wearing a cropped green cardigan, with a bikini top that left little to the imagination.

"Hey, what's up," the girl greeted before Ryujin introduced you. She was made of different wood, you could tell. She brought the cigarette to her mouth, took a drag, and blew the smoke to the side of her. You greeted her with a nod up.

"This is Giselle, our Japanese bad bitch," Ryujin said. She reached over and took the cigarette from Giselle's fingers to take a drag as well. She didn't seem to care, she just waited for her to return it.

"Giselle? You're not from around here, right?" you asked, as she analyzed you up and down.

"No, I wasn't born here, and from what I see you weren't either," another drag on the cigarette.

"England, you?" You said that in English.

"America, where from England?" she replied back in the same language.

“Birmingham,” your thick accent made her laugh. Ryujin just looked confused.

"Oh, like Peaky Blinders?" You heard that question so often that you didn't even care anymore.

"Yeah, just like the Peaky Blinders. Only without the part about being in a criminal organization."

"Well, that's a shame. I like bad boys," she brought the cigarette between her lips and took a long drag that ended up extinguishing all the tobacco inside it. She put the cigarette butt in one of her back pockets, winked at you and returned to the shadow of the living room with the other girls.

"You know this is the first time I've heard you speak English, right?" Ryujin said from beside you.

"Really?" you went back to Korean.

"Yeah," she nodded, "and I've known you for years."

"I suppose there was no need to do so."

"No, but I wish you had, you sound so sexy," Ryujin's hand went to your cheek and caressed it with her thumb, then leaned in to kiss it.

"Ryujin-ah!" Ning called from behind you. You both turned around at the same time, "where's the alcohol?" She asked, "And why don't you come here with us?" That last question was directed at you.

"I know you crave my attention darling, calm down," you joked, walking with Ryujin into the room. Ning stood up and rushed towards you with a tight hug. You hugged her back, looking at Minjeong. You winked at her.

"How can I not when I hardly saw you for all these months?" She pulled away from you, both hands on your shoulders. You looked into her eyes, as beautiful as ever, "who gave you permission to look so fucking hot today?"

"I can ask you the same thing," you looked at her lovely body from top to bottom. Her cropped see-through shirt and her short skirt were the same red color with small white spots. You could see her bikini under the shirt, and immediately her tits demanded your attention.

"It's been really hot lately, actually," she took a small step back and took off her see-through tank top, leaving herself in her bikini top and miniskirt, "too hot."

"Indeed, too hot," you stated, looking at her tits.

"Aren't you going to say hello to me?" Minjeong's small, soft voice. You walked past Ning and went to her.

"I have something better for you," you took her hands and made her stand in front of you. You wrapped your arms around her waist and pressed her against you. Minjeong placed her hands on your chest, and you leaned forward to crash your lips against hers.

You shared a kiss for a while that felt like mere seconds to you. You missed Minjeong's lips, small, soft and plump. Eyes were on the two of you, you could feel it, and you could also feel the confusion and shock in many of them. You didn't care about that. Months had passed since the last time you were able to hold her like that in your arms, filling her with the love that you had sworn to her unconditionally long ago. You separated when Minjeong spoke to you.

"Can I spend a few days with you at your house? You know, after today," her voice came as a whisper, you just nodded and gave her another peck.

"Are you guys done? You're going to make me vomit," Giselle interrupted. You turned to see her sitting on Jimin's lap, who had her arms around her waist. Jimin, on the other hand, looked at you with a small smirk.

"Fuck, you haven't seen anything yet," Ning said, sitting on the couch behind you, "they get unbearable sometimes."

"How long have you been together?" Jimin asked, both glowing eyes darting between you. The complicated question. You and Minjeong looked into each other's eyes, searching for the right words.

"Well... I mean," she began.

"We're not together, but, uhm..." you continued. Ning put a hand to her forehead, covering her gaze, Jimin raised both eyebrows attentive to your explanation, and Giselle was holding back her laughter.

"It's just… well, it's complicated," Minjeong concluded. Complicated, yes, that's what it was.

"So... you're not together but you just gave me a romantic scene worthy of a movie?" Jimin said that in a way that made you laugh.

"It's just that we're like... uh..." you never found the right way to call it, you only knew how to describe it in your head. 'Almost something.'

"Friends with benefits?" Giselle asked.

"Uh… not exactly," you denied, "by the way, where is Ryujin?" You had to change the topic quickly, you couldn't stand that uncomfortable situation anymore, and you hadn't seen Ryujin since you greeted Ning and Minjeong.

"Right here, fools!" She appeared on the upper floor, her belly leaning against the glass railing, something that was quite dangerous considering that she had around 6 different glass bottles hugged to her body.

"Don't fucking do that!" You scolded her, "the railing will collapse from the weight of your big ass and the bottles will be ruined," the height of the second floor wasn't exactly very high, but it was high enough to cause an unpleasant situation.

"God how boring you are!" She disappeared from your sight and reappeared going down the stairs to the right of the wide pivoting door that led to the front of the house. It was closed at that moment.

"No, he's right, your big ass would cushion the fall, but not the bottles," Giselle said, as Ryujin placed the bottles on the table where Ning was sitting.

“Wherever my big ass fell your face would be there to cushion the fall, bitch,” Ryujin gave her the middle finger and stood next to you and Minjeong, “hey, can you go get the cooler?” She asked you, "It's in the room on the left. I would do it, but my poor little arms can't handle that much weight."

"Sure, but go look for that speaker you keep in your room, we should start warming up the engines."

"But that's also very heavy!" she complained.

"Then ask one of the girls for help and stop being a crybaby," you pulled her ear, and she squealed. Her foot almost stuck in your butt, but you quickly dodged the kick and went to look for the cooler.

The room Ryujin was talking about was just a corner away once you went outside, it was closed by a large sliding glass. You slid it to the right, docking it with the other glass panel to enter the room. The space was rather small compared to the previous one, there was only a comfortable looking sofa, a sound system and a wall-mounted TV. It seemed like the perfect place to take a long nap, but the huge cooler parked between the sofa and the surround painfully separated you from that desire. You grabbed it by the handle and went outside, dragging it easily thanks to its little wheels.

When you came back neither Ryujin nor Giselle were there. Minjeong, Ning and Jimin were sitting together on the couch, Jimin in the middle while the other two tried to make her feel comfortable. You left the cooler in the corner of the room that was close to the grass and the wall and went with the girls.

"Hey, do you want me to make you a drink?" The question was directed at the three of them.

"Tequila!" Ning exclaimed.

"Absolutely not, you know how you get with tequila," Ning rolled her eyes and snorted.

"Ugh, make it vodka then."

"You?" You looked at Minjeong.

"Same thing, honey, with grenadine," you nodded, and finally saw Jimin.

"Uh… no thanks, I don't..." she began.

"Huh? How not?" Ning said.

"I don't know, I don't usually drink, since I usually don't go to parties."

"That doesn't mean you can't do it with us here and now," Ning looked at you, "make her a drink with juice, not so strong. Or maybe with sparkling water?"

"N-No! Juice is fine, orange," nodded Jimin, who smiled at you.

"Roger, on the way!" you finished, as if you were their personal waiter.

You got to work quickly. Inside the cooler buried in ice were all the non-alcoholic drinks you needed, first you made Ning's drink just the way she liked it, vodka (Belvedere, you didn't know the price of that specific bottle) and lemon soda. You were going to make Minjeong's, but among all the drinks that were in there, curiously there was no grenadine, you didn't give it much importance, there would surely be a bottle in the kitchen, so you made Jimin's drink next. You took as a reference the amount of vodka you poured into Ning and Minjeong's glass and poured less into it, filling the rest with orange juice. You took both drinks and went to the girls.

"Here you go ladies," you handed Jimin and Ning their glasses, and then looked at Minjeong, "Honey, I'll go to the kitchen to get the grenadine, okay?"

"It's okay babe," she nodded, legs crossed and a patient look. Jimin laughed and Ning just took a sip of her drink.

"Babe?" Jimin asked, "and you're not a couple? Incredible," you just ran away from there.

You left the girls and went back inside the not at all modest house, heading towards the not at all modest kitchen. You were with your head down looking at your phone, so you didn't really pay attention to what was in front of you at any time, it was the sound of a familiar moan that made you look up. You were already in the kitchen, and you really couldn't believe your eyes.

The kitchen was divided into two almost equal areas that were separated by a sliding glass window that went from wall to wall, Ryujin was on the other side, bent over the island that served as both a trough and a sink, with Giselle kneeling on the floor, eating her pussy from behind. Ryujin's shorts were around her heels, both of Giselle's hands on her ass as she moaned louder and louder. The speaker you were talking about was close to them, black, tall and rectangular like a futuristic skyscraper. The poor thing had been forgotten by the horniness of the two girls.

As much as you wanted to stay enjoying such a scene, you didn't want to be a weirdo and you focused on doing what you were going to do. You walked stealthily towards one of the refrigerators, you were close to the wall, avoiding at all costs to enter Ryujin's range of vision (which was quite complicated considering that she was looking in the opposite direction and with her eyes closed). You opened the refrigerator, and your eyes quickly traveled from here to there in search of the grenadine. In the end you found it on the tray anchored to the door, you took it, you closed the refrigerator and with a loud moan from Ryujin in the background you disappeared from the kitchen.

When you returned to the outdoor room the girls were still on the couch, Jimin and Minjeong looking at Ning's phone screen. Minjeong noticed your presence and her face lit up when she saw the bottle of grenadine in your hand.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

“Oh, looking at our photos together,” Ning replied, showing you the screen. You blushed when you saw that it was a photo of the three of you naked in your bed under the covers. Apparently Ning had taken it while the two of you were still asleep.

"And do you think it's appropriate to show her that specific one?" You wrinkled your face.

"You look very cute!" Jimin said, "Oh, and... you have a nice back," there was a small awkward silence, no one expected her to say that.

"Well... you have nice legs, that makes us even," you laughed, and a blushing Jimin was left speechless, "anyway, I'll make you your drink, honey," you said to Minjeong, who just gave you a small kiss in the air and nodded.

You made Minjeong's drink in a matter of seconds, and when you finished you made your own too, with vodka, pepsi, and a touch of lemon juice. With both drinks in hand you went to sit next to Minjeong, and at that moment Ryujin and Giselle appeared carrying the speaker. Both of them looked intact and immaculate, as if a few minutes ago one wasn't feasting on the other's pussy.

"I hope you take it back upstairs later!" Ryujin said looking at you, you laughed at her face frowning from the physical effort. Finally they left the speaker on the grass and turned it on.

"Alright, but you'll bring the cooler," you took a sip of your drink, and took your phone out of your pocket to connect to the speaker since you were always in charge of the music.

"By then the ice will be melted and the bottles empty, easy peasy."

"Knowing you, you'll ask me for help again," Giselle laughed, looked into her eyes for a few seconds and went to sit on the single couch by the fireplace. Ryujin just played dumb.

"Hey you, are you going to play music or not?" she said to you as you looked down at your phone.

"Give me a second and shut up," you responded, and then you played Drake's Madiba Riddim. Ryujin turned up the volume on the speaker, now the music was flooding your ears.

"Oh gosh, now I need to get in the pool," Ning said and then took a sip from her half-empty drink, slightly moving her body to the rhythm of the music.

"Let's go then," Giselle said with a gesture toward the pool.

"Are you all coming?" Ning looked at you and then at Ryujin.

"Oh yeah, heat is starting to get unbearable," agreed Minjeong, who was drinking slowly and steadily.

"Well, I'm not a big fan of pools but I guess it will be fun," agreed Jimin, who had apparently loved her drink.

"I didn't even bring a swimsuit," you said with a sigh.

"Okay but are you an idiot or what?" Ning said.

"I didn't consider it necessary!"

"We are in the middle of summer, in a house with a pool and the sun above our heads, what the hell did you think was going to happen?"

"Well I'm sorry!"

"Sorry my ass, you're going to go in there with us naked if you have to!" Jimin raised both eyebrows and turned to look at Ning.

"In underwear."

"Deal!" Ning nodded with a smile, then looked at Ryujin, "what about you, bitch?"

"I sure could get inside naked, I bet you'd love that," she smiled, with nothing less than mischievous intentions, "Come on th-" her phone rang in her pocket and it interrupted her, it was a call which she reluctantly answered, "Hello mom... aha..." she entered the room and stared at nothing, "But I'm busy today! I told you a few days ago... can't Hyungmin go there?... Agh, fine, I'll go! I'll see you there... yeah, I love you too," she finally hung up, visibly angry.

"Everything is alright?" you asked worriedly.

"Yeah yeah," she nodded, put the phone in her pocket and took a few steps towards the hallway, "mom needs my help, checking the quality of the fabrics for this year's summer collection," you sighed.

"Rich people problems," you shook your head, "will you come back?"

"I honestly don't know," she scratched her temple, "but don't worry, no one will be coming here until next week," she took the house keys out of her pocket and handed them to you.

"Oh hell no, you can't leave me in charge of this whole place," you backed away, but she tossed the keys into your lap.

"Would you prefer that I leave Ning in charge?"

"Hey!" Ning claimed, and everyone but Ryujin and her laughed.

“Fuck, whatever,” you huffed.

"You already know this house, so I have my trust in you," she patted your cheek a few times, and then leaned over to give you a peck on the forehead, "have a good time and behave!" She started walking away, "Take good care of him, bitches, he's a diamond in the rough!" With that said, she disappeared from your sights without giving any of you time to say goodbye.

"Well, that was unexpected," Minjeong said.

"Aw, I wanted her to enter the pool naked," Ning lamented with a pout.

"What a slut..." Minjeong muttered.

"I wanted too..." Jimin murmured as well. You, Ning, and Minjeong looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "What?"

"A diamond in the rough huh?" Giselle asked, seeing you, getting up to grab a bottle of gin and walk towards the cooler, "Why is that? Can anyone tell me?"

"Well... he's cute, very attractive in fact, and so handsome," Minjeong said. You played dumb as much as you could while watching your liked songs on Spotify. You played Troye Sivan's Rush.

"And he's very kind, and nice, he always takes care of us," Ning had already finished her drink, and she extended it to you as if wanting you to do it again.

"Nope, get up and do it yourself, you know how," you replied, and Ning frowned.

"... And he has a big, juicy fucking cock," once again, another dead silence that was broken by Giselle's laughter. You could feel your whole face hot, you knew she had said it just to embarrass you as revenge for not making her the drink. Minjeong tried to hide her laughter as best she could, and Jimin was blushing too. Ning stood up with a small triumphant smile, took off her skirt, and once in her bikini she walked towards the pool.

"So you've fucked her?" Giselle teased as she finished making herself a drink with gin and Nordic Mist Blue tonic water.

"The three of us, actually, being high," Minjeong admitted, and you were dying of embarrassment. Giselle laughed.

"You didn't need to say that..." you mumbled, sinking into the seat.

"Did you have a foursome being high? Damn, I'm jealous," Giselle took a sip of her drink, left it on the table and started giving you, Jimin and Minjeong a mini show. She started by taking off her green cardigan, throwing it on the couch where she was sitting. She then took off her jean shorts, but making sure to turn her back to you to bend forward and slowly lower them down her long, meaty legs. As expected, she had one of the most amazing asses you had ever seen, and she knew it very well.

Once in her bikini, which revealed a rather modest amount of buttocks but still looked incredibly sexy in her, she grabbed her drink, and with her high-heeled sandals still on she walked towards the pool, your gaze, Minjeong's and Jimin's placed on her while she swayed her hips with each step.

"Damn… she's hot… and so confident," Jimin said with a small sigh.

"Yes, she is," Minjeong nodded, turning to look at the dark-haired woman, "but you have nothing to envy of her, look at you," Jimin looked down at her own body, as if she wanted to validate something that, under her perspective was not like that, "you have beautiful legs, a nice waist... hell, your face it’s like a piece of art."

"I… really?" Jimin pouted and fiddled with her fingers, "well... I don't know..."

"And it looks like you have some nice tits too," you almost spit out your drink, not expecting such a comment. You refrained from affirming.

"Oh," Jimin looked down again and saw her breasts, "do you think so?" Minjeong nodded.

"Come on, undress and let us see that pretty body," Minjeong said in a gentle tone of voice.

"Right here and now?" Jimin asked, giving you glances.

"You have to build that confidence, cutie," Minjeong raised a hand and tucked a strand of Jimin’s hair behind her ear, "go ahead."

“Okay…” Jimin gave you one last small glance and stood in front of the two of you. She was visibly nervous, not really knowing where to start or what to do. She began by removing the two sleeves that covered her arms, and next was the beach skirt that surrounded her waist. Now only the jean shorts remained, "Uhm… ugh, I hate this part."

"Let me give you a hand," Minjeong brought a hand to Jimin's shorts and she alone unbuttoned them with one deft movement. You remained completely silent, watching as she took a somewhat more dominant role in relation to someone even more subby than her. It was strange for you to see, but you found it incredibly hot.

“Fuck…” Jimin gasped, and you looked at her, “I mean, uhm…” she cleared her throat, “thank you…”

Finally she began to take off her shorts, her gaze darting between the two of you as she reached her hands to the curb and pulled them down to her ankles. Her pair of glowing legs stole the show, long, pale and well toned, perfect for kissing for hours on end. When she took her shorts off her ankles, she turned around with her sandals still on and let you see the back of her bikini bottom, which was tied to her waist with two knots and exposed an amount of buttocks that made your mouth water.

"And if all that wasn't enough, you have a round pretty ass," Minjeong said, and Jimin turned around with blushing cheeks. She looked at you, as if she was seeking your approval, but your gaze going up and down her statuesque body wasn't enough, she wanted you to tell her.

"Yeah, you're fucking hot, Jiminie," you nodded, looking at her flat, pretty belly, and then looking into her eyes.

"Go to the pool with the girls, okay? I need a moment with him," Minjeong requested, and Jimin looked at you both before nodding.

"I'll wait for you guys there..." Jimin bit her own lip, and she gave you one last lascivious look up and down before turning her back on you and walking out.

"Would you be so kind as to explain to me what that was?" you asked Minjeong once Jimin had walked away.

"What are you talking about?"

"You looked like a restrained version of Ryujin just now," you laughed, "I've never seen you act like that."

"She needed someone to give her a little push to embolden herself, and Ryujin isn't here."

"Well, know that I'm proud of you, darling," you reached behind her and wrapped your arm around her waist, pulling her close to your body and giving her a soft kiss on the lips that she reciprocated with a small smirk.

"Did you like me?" The mischief in her tone let you know that she was looking to tease you.

"Oh yeah, fucking hot," you gave her another kiss, looking into her eyes from very close up, "I almost called you mommy, in fact," she let out a small laugh.

"Stop joking, silly," she nudged your chest and gave you another kiss, "help me undress, will you?"

"Completely? Damn, I'd be delighted."

"No, dummy, just the part that isn't my bikini."

"How boring," you faked a yawn, earning another small push in your chest. You laughed and put your hands on her.

You started with the top, which only consisted of the blue long-sleeved sweater, cropped enough to only cover part of her bikini top: a semi-transparent piece attached to the neck that wore a black bra underneath. As you took off her sweater you moved on to her skirt, which had a small button behind it that you just had to undo so that it fell to the floor. With Minjeong already in just her bikini, your hands went straight to her small, tight waist, and you rubbed her pretty tummy with the palm of your hand a couple of times.

"Mmm… you obviously missed me, didn't you?" she teased, patiently unbuttoning your shirt.

"I didn't want it to be so noticeable. Is it new?" you asked, stretching one side of the hem of her bikini bottom and giving her waist a harmless little whip.

"Yup, it is, do you like it?" She took off your shirt, and holding it in her hand, she turned around so you could see her back. Your gaze went to her ass and her lower back, two parts of her that drove you crazy.

"Don't tease me here, Kim Minjeong," you gave her a little spank and turned her around, "go ahead, we agreed that I would go into the pool in my underwear," you pointed at your shorts with your eyes.

"Don't make me suck your cock here," she warned with a little smile, then she unzipped your shorts and got on her knees, pulling them down to your ankles. You took off your shoes, your socks and took your shorts off your feet.

"Well, it seems like you want to do it of your own free will," you looked down at her, and she put her hands on the sides of your thighs as she looked into your eyes, her face inches from your bulge.

"I want to do it, and I'm very tempted to do it right now," her fingers carefully gripped your thighs and her face moved closer to your crotch, "but you'll have to be patient until things get hotter over here..." She gave your cock a small kiss over the fabric, and with a mischievous smile she stood up, "good luck with that boner when you come with us."

You stood with your mouth half open, watching as Minjeong walked past you and went to the pool with the girls. Your bulge grew and grew, until you had a full boner which you painfully had to wait for to pass so you could go with them. They had all tied their hair in high buns, Ning was already inside the pool with Jimin and Giselle, the last two with their drinks in their hands and the water up to their chests. Minjeong was sitting on one of the steps in the shallow area of the pool, apparently waiting for you. Her drink was next to her, you were afraid she would accidentally spill it in the pool water, but you didn't say anything.

"Damn, I didn't know you were armed," Giselle said looking at your crotch, where the bulge from a moment ago still hadn't completely softened. You sighed, knowing you had a long day ahead of you. Ning didn't mind at all, she had seen you naked many times before, but Jimin's eyes, lacking discretion, didn't leave you for a second.

"And you haven't seen it hard," Ning laughed, sipping from Jimin's drink.

"Yet," Giselle said, you raised both eyebrows, turning to look at her.

"You sound very confident, mean girl," you sat next to Minjeong and took a sip of your drink, the ice had already melted, so it had slightly lost its flavor.

"I don't think it's wise to provoke her..." Minjeong murmured next to you, but you ignored it.

"Well you shouldn't challenge me," she began to speak to you in English, and everyone except Ning, who you knew had knowledge of the language, looked confused, "in fact, I would love to see it hard right now," Giselle said, looking at your eyes.

"I'm sorry but if you want that to happen you have to do something about it," you replied back in English, Giselle laughed.

"I'm not laying a single finger on you, Casanova," she moved back and leaned her back against the pool wall, leaving her glass on the edge of it.

"What are they saying?" you heard Jimin ask Minjeong.

"I have no idea," she replied.

"Then you'll just have to endure the urge," you were about to enter the water when Giselle played a dirty trick. She turned and put her hands on the edge of the pool, pushed herself up and purposely left her abdomen pressed against the edge to give you a perfect view of her fleshy wet body from behind, her ass and legs stealing all your attention.

"Uhh, you just killed him," Ning said, looking at your idiotic face as you looked at Giselle's ass, who was smiling from ear to ear.

"Well, that's definitely some bubble butt," Minjeong highlighted, also looking at Giselle's ass until she sat on the edge of the pool.

"So I'll have to endure the urge, huh?" Giselle asked, looking at your crotch. You looked down, finding a bulge harder than a rock, perfectly marked through the fabric of the boxer. All of them were looking at your cock, including Jimin, whose cheeks were red. She quickly tried to hide the look.

"Bloody hell..." you muttered to yourself, leaving your glass next to Minjeong and entering the water to hide your erection.

"Hey, wait for me!" Minjeong said behind your back, when you were already covered in water up to your chest. You turned to see how she left your glasses on the edge of the pool to get in with you.

"Ning wasn't wrong, that thing is massive," Giselle said a few meters away from you, as Ning swam towards you and Minjeong clung to your torso from behind. Jimin was now in a shallower area, calmly drinking the last of her drink. At that moment Scream & Shout by will.i.am and Britney Spears started playing.

"And you have no idea how it feels having him inside," Ning said, vibing to the music with her arms raised. You wanted to drown at that precise moment.

"If you want to fuck him you just have to go inside and get a room, you know?" Jimin said back in the pool, she was swimming on her back.

"Oh, why do you say that? Wanna join?" Ning teased with a giggle. Jimin made a small silence.

"Shut up," she finally said, and continued swimming.

"Can we stop talking about me for a second?" you asked, "anyone would think you were desperate for cock."

"If you only knew how long I haven't had a decent cock," Giselle said, returning to Korean.

"See? Now that's an interesting topic of conversation," you swam back and forth, Minjeong holding onto you.

"All the guys I've been with have been small-cocked losers," Giselle said, crossing one thigh over the other, "And I've laughed in each one of them’s face."

"No formal boyfriend huh?" you asked.

"Not really, just a couple, one went pretty well for about a year and the other cheated on me with a Malaysian whore."

"Fuck, that sucks," you looked at Ning, "and what about you?"

"I haven't had a formal boyfriend since high school, if that can be considered a formal boyfriend. It's too much of a commitment for me."

"What a weird way to say you're a slut," said Minjeong, who had her chin resting on your shoulder. Ning splashed water on her face with her fingers, and consequently on you too, so you two did the same to her.

"Ahhhh! My hair!" She screamed, turning her face away and covering herself with her hand.

"Minjeongie looks like a fairytale princess, I bet she had a lot of suitors," Giselle said, and Minjeong sighed.

"Fuck, I wish. I was very quiet and introverted, I hated parties and people. Nobody would want to be with a girl like that."

“You say it like something has changed,” Ning laughed, and Minjeong splashed more water on her.

"And what about you, cutie?" Jimin was so distracted in her own bubble that she didn't realize that Giselle was talking to her.

"Huh?" She stopped hanging around the pool and went to a not so deep area where the water reached below the chest and allowed everyone to see her more than considerable tits marked by the wet fabric, "Are you talking to me?"

"No, I'm actually talking to the pool tile," Giselle replied sarcastically.

"Uh... well, I never gave boys a second thought, honestly," she adjusted her bikini top, hypnotizing you with the weight of her tits, "I've been so focused on my career that I haven't even stopped to think about whether I like someone or I don't."

"But hasn't there been any guy who hit on you?" you asked.

"I have no idea, I don't pay attention to them," she bent her knees and covered herself in water up to her chest, "none have been charming enough to be worth my time."

"And what do you think of our little Peaky Blinder friend over there?" Giselle pointed at you with her gaze, "you haven't stopped seeing him all day," once again, Jimin's cheeks lit up like two emergency lights.

"Uh... I think I'll go inside, I'm thirsty," Jimin said, standing up to get out of the pool as quickly as she could. You laughed, as did Minjeong behind you.

"Me too! Wait for me!" Ning said, swimming towards the edge of the pool to get out.

"I'm fine here, but I don't want to be a third wheel," Giselle laughed, looking at you and Minjeong, then she stood up, walked around the pool and went with the girls, leaving you both alone.

"Fuck, you're a hunk, aren't you?" Minjeong teased you once Giselle walked away too, rubbing your chest with both hands. You turned around and found her small face inches from yours.

"I literally haven't done anything," you wrapped both arms around her body, and she raised her legs to wrap them around your torso, "it's not my fault I'm this handsome."

"Ahhh!" she screeched, "Oh my god, how arrogant!" She let out a few laughs, and hugged your neck with her arms.

"I don't see you denying it either."

"Of course not, I said it myself a few minutes ago," she began to give you small kisses on your cheeks, "I wish I didn't have to share you today..." more kisses, this time on your chin and neck.

"What are you talking about?" You caressed her lower back with both hands, and she pressed her thighs harder to the sides of your torso.

"Oh come on, let's be real," she looked into your eyes, "by the end of the day you'll have fucked us all, it's a matter of time."

"Giselle is a tough nut to crack, and Jimin... well, she doesn't seem like the one to take the initiative."

"Nonsense, they both want you, I see it in her eyes."

"How about you?" You gave her a small kiss, and began to return the kisses she had given you a few seconds ago, "do you want me?" you murmured in her ear, and she shuddered.

"I always want you..." she gasped while her neck was marked with kisses and hickeys, "and it's been a while since I felt you inside me."

"Well… no one's watching us," your hands went to her tight ass. She pressed her pelvis forward, rubbing your crotches, "and from there you can't see anything that happens under the water."

"Fuck..." Her fingers stroked the hair on the back of your neck as you continued kissing her neck and her right shoulder. Your two hands massaging her buttocks, "Are you crazy?"

"You didn't say the same thing when you put my cock inside you with Ning asleep next to us..." you put one of your hands inside her bikini bottom, you squeezed her buttock, ran your fingers down her butthole and reached her pussy to rub her folds. She moaned.

“It was different that time…” her fingers clutched at your scalp. You stuck your middle finger inside her, and she pursed her lips to stifle a louder moan.

"It wasn't different at all..." you brought your hand out from behind her to now shove it down the front of her bikini bottom, now rubbing your fingers along her slit "don't think too much, just tell me yes or no," you rubbed her clit in circles slowly, so she didn't manage to formulate a response until seconds later.

"I..." Her heavy gasps had her eyes closed and her fingers pulling at your hair, "Shit, yes. Fuck me, quick."

You wasted no time and quickly pulled your boxers down to mid-thighs, releasing your hard cock underwater. You put an arm around Minjeong's waist and lifted her just a little, using your free hand to push her bikini bottoms to the side. With her pussy now exposed you crashed your lips into hers, took your cock in your left hand and rubbed it a few times between her folds before pressing her down, taking the first few inches inside.

The loud moan Minjeong let out when she felt your cock halfway inside her was muffled against your lips. Her arms tightened around your neck, but her legs loosened on either side of your torso so you could move her easily. You were quite patient since there wasn't enough lubrication under the water, it took a few seconds, but you finally managed to get more than half of your cock inside her tight pussy, not completely like it used to be, but enough to make it pleasurable for both.

With two hands on her ass you began to move her up and down, your cock sliding more and more easily in and out of her. Her moans became harder to contain with each pump, but you realized that the music was so loud that any sound you made wouldn't reach the girl's ears, so you parted your lips and focused on her neck. The water didn't allow you to make her move as fast as you would have liked, but you did your best to manipulate her small body to your complete whim. Now Minjeong was moaning and whimpering just inches from your face, with free rein to do so thanks to Lil Wayne's voice in A Milli.

You squeezed both of her buttocks for a few seconds during which you bit and kissed her neck. She removed her arms from around your neck and cupped your face in her hands to kiss you again for a few short seconds. When you separated again you realized that her face was completely distorted by pleasure, mouth half open, cheeks red and eyebrows raised, anyone who saw her at that moment (if they hadn't already) was going to be able to catch you easily, so you resorted to a safe measure: turn your back on the house so you could cover her.

From that position you had one of the pool walls in front of you. You stopped moving her on your cock and took a few steps forward, the water covering you up to her shoulders and Minjeong up to her neck. You leaned her against her tiles, and grabbing the back of her knees you spread her legs wide open to start fucking her as fast as you could.

"Oh my fucking god how does this feel so good?!" she squealed, leaning her neck against the edge of the pool.

"Adrenaline maybe?" you teased, attacking her long, inviting neck with more kisses, your cock sliding smoothly in and out of Minjeong's increasingly tight pussy.

"I don't know but don't you dare stop!" Having said that, you took out your cock, let go of her legs and grabbed her waist to turn her around. She grabbed the edge of the pool with both hands and turned to look at you with a sexy look, and you grabbed the edge of her bikini bottom to lower it to her thighs. With her ass now completely exposed, you placed one hand on her waist and with the other guided your cock inside her once more, "Ohhh ffffuck!" she moaned when you started fucking her from behind.

From that position you made sure to feel Minjeong as much as possible, running your hands all over her tight, soft body as you pumped your hips back and forth. It was a pity that you couldn't grab and massage her tits at that moment, but you did run your hand over her flat abdomen multiple times, then move to her waist and from there lower your hands down her hips, reach her inner thighs, caress them for a moment before wrapping your left arm around her lower body and with your free hand rub her clit quickly. The song changed, now playing The Way You Make Me Feel by Michael Jackson. Good timing.

Minjeong soon began to shake in your arms, both stimuli taking her downhill in a snowball that led to an intense orgasm that made her bite her forearm between squeals and intense moans. Her pussy walls tightened around your cock, a sensation that also brought you to a pleasurable orgasm that shook every fiber of your body. You pushed forward hard, and with your face buried in Minjeong's neck your load began to shoot into her pussy. She turned her face and your lips met once more, muffled moans from each side as she continued to be gripped by her orgasm and you continued to pour out streams of cum one after the other. A few seconds passed before you stopped pumping your hips and her orgasm was over.

"It wasn't that bad huh?" You murmured in her ear, slowly pulling your cock out of her pussy to let your load spill out into the water.

"That was amazing..." she sighed, seeking your lips to share a brief kiss with you, "but please, next time let's do it with no one around who can see us," you turned your head to look towards the house. The girls weren't even remotely aware of what you were doing, they were playing around while talking, laughing and drinking.

"Believe me, they are in their own bubble, they don't care what we do," being a gentleman you pulled Minjeong's bikini bottoms back up. You also pulled up your boxers.

"But it makes me anxious, silly," she turned around, wrapped her arms around your neck and gave you another kiss, "can I say something cheesy?"

“You're going to say it anyway, so go ahead,” you nodded, and what was going to come out of Minjeong's mouth was going to completely blow you away.

"I love you," she said close to your lips, in a small voice that you could barely hear. Her pretty eyes looked at you nervously, like it was something she wasn't sure whether to say or not. You were paralyzed for a few seconds.

"Do you love me? I mean, are you serious?" You didn't mean to doubt her, but you had to make sure you hadn't heard wrong.

"Yeah, darling, I love you," she stated again with the same small, tender voice, only this time you did process the information.

"I... love you too," you stared into her eyes, two bright orbs full of affection towards you, "hell, do you wanna be my girlfriend?" Minjeong smiled from ear to ear, and her cheeks turned red.

"That'd be cute," she nodded, and once again kissed you. This time your lips danced in sweet love harmony, Minjeong's hands cradling your face while her thumbs gently caressed your cheekbones. Your hands went to her waist, to press her body against yours and hug her tightly.

"Alright, too cheesy for now," you murmured after pulling away from her lips, and you both laughed, "come on, let's go out, I'm going to get too wrinkled."

She nodded and turned around to rest her hands on the edge of the pool, you helped her and pushed her up so she could get out easily. Once outside you followed her, and walked hand in hand back to the house, faces calm as if you hadn't left a stream of cum flowing freely through the pool.

"Damn, you're finally back!" Ning exclaimed as she saw you enter the shadow of the room. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a bottle of vodka in her hand. The three of them were still in only their bikini, now with their hair down and looking even hotter, "we were about to start a round of shots."

"Already?" you asked, looking everywhere for your shorts, "and where the fuck are my clothes?"

"I saved it for you, casanova," Giselle said, sitting on Jimin's lap, who was sitting on one of the single couches, "I don't think you're going to need it, are you? We're all half naked at this point, so that would not be supportive on your part."

"Fuck, they're really playing dirty with you," Minjeong laughed after letting go of your hand. She patted your shoulder and went to sit with Ning on the couch.

"You allowed this?" you looked at Jimin, who quickly avoided your gaze.

"She very much agreed," Ning said with a laugh, leaning down to grab a shot glass and fill it with vodka, "who will go first?" You noticed out of the corner of your eye how Giselle took the remote control of the speaker and turned up the music even more volume. Cash in Cash Out by Pharell Williams breaking down the bass.

"Give it to me," Minjeong leaned forward and took the shot glass from Ning's hand to drink the entire shot.

"Oh shit, it seems like someone is more cheerful than usual," Ning looked you up and down with a mischievous look, "you had work to do huh?" she laughed.

"I won't comment on it," you denied, sitting next to Minjeong.

"Alright, come here, Jiminie," Ning stood up with the small glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. She walked to stand next to Giselle and Jimin.

"Uh… don't you think that's too much for me?" Jimin asked with a worried tone as she looked at her.

"Do you feel dizzy right now? Even slightly different?"

"Well... my body feels hot, not exactly because of the heat, or because..."

"Say no more, you're perfect, drink," Ning poured the vodka into the glass and gently grabbed Jimin by the chin, "open that mouth, sweetie," Jimin did so, but instead of doing it like any other person would, she stuck out her tongue as if she were going to receive something else. You couldn't take your eyes off for a single second while Ning poured the vodka in a trickle on Jimin's tongue, and she swallowed every drop until there was no more left.

"Fuck girl, you're hotter than you think," Giselle said, also staring at Jimin, who close her mouth and wiped a few droplets of vodka off her chin with the back of her hand.

"So you think?" Jimin asked, looking at her.

"That tongue of yours is sexy as fuck," Giselle nodded, "I even want to taste it."

“Do it then,” Ning, you and Minjeong looked at each other with your eyebrows raised in shock. Now that was a big step. Even Giselle looked a little surprised.

"Are you sure?" Giselle asked.

"For God's sake, just kiss me," Giselle didn't hesitate twice to grab her face with both hands and do what she asked. The first thing that stood out from the beginning was the use of both tongues during the kiss, an incredibly hot scene that had the three of you surprised by how Jimin performed. It was obvious that Giselle was the one in control, but both tongues were entwined with equal passions.

"Mother of God," Ning put her hand over her mouth, incredulous at the intense make out session Jimin and Giselle were having. You had to look towards the pool to avoid getting another boner.

"Oh no, you're watching this with me," Minjeong said. She grabbed your chin and forced you to look back at the girls as they kissed. As expected, the lewd scene caused arousal to grow in you, and consequently, your cock to get hard under your boxers.

"You hate me, don't you?" You quickly took a cushion from behind your back and covered your crotch with it. Seconds later, Jimin and Giselle separated.

"Fuck," Giselle gasped, wiping some saliva off her chin with the back of her hand, "who knew you could kiss so well?"

"I do?" Jimin asked. Her genuine innocence made you exchange an incredulous look with Ning.

"Girl, it's one of the best kisses I've ever had in my life," Giselle looked at Ning, and then at you and Minjeong, "we gave you a good show huh?"

"He's covering his crotch with a cushion," Ning pointed out, "guess why," you looked at her, wanting to kick her ass.

"Rock hard again?" giggled Giselle.

"He's just a man, what do you expect," Minjeong said dismissively, but you knew she was just teasing you.

"Hey, we already gave you a show, why don't you give us a show?" Giselle said, raising an eyebrow.

"We're not going to fuck in front of you," you stepped forward.

"Yet."

"Three way kiss," Jimin interjected, and Giselle looked at her.

"You're not as innocent as you seem, are you?"

"I'm not going to comment on how many erotic books and manhwas I've read."

"I don't need to know either," Giselle now looked at you, "you heard our little nerd, kiss."

Ning, who subconsciously always sought your approval for everything, turned to look at you.

"Give her the shot first," you pointed your finger at the bottle, "and then me."

"If those are the conditions you're making it too easy for me boy," Giselle took the bottle from Ning's hand and brought it to her mouth to drink directly from it.

"You set the bar too low, what a fool," Minjeong said from beside you.

"Shut your mouth," you replied, watching as Giselle stood up with the bottle in her hand and walked straight towards you.

"Come on, pretty boy, have a drink," she shook the bottle in front of your nose. You reluctantly took it and in an imitation of Giselle you drank from it, "Thaaat's it," she took the bottle from you, "Alright, what are you waiting for?"

Ning didn't even have to ask your permission to walk over to you, remove the cushion from your crotch, and straddle your lap. The rubbing of your crotches over the thin fabrics made you hold your breath, as you could feel her folds pressing against you. You didn't even have time to think about it when Minjeong knelt to your left and put her face between the two of you, Ning did the same, and soon your lips were together.

Strangely, you had never tried to do something like that before, so it was a little difficult to find the rhythm and the right way to do it, but it was a matter of seconds before the three of you finally reached a point of comfort in which your lips crashed in perfect synchrony. Naturally the tongues got into the action, and so did the touching.

You surrounded the waists of both girls with your arms, and pressed them firmly towards your body to feel their heavy breathing and hot bodies. Unconsciously small moans were also present, and you could notice a subtle movement in Ning's hips above you.

"Unnie, make them stop, I'm getting..." you heard Jimin say.

"Are you kidding? This is only getting better," she replied.

"No, seriously, I need them to stop..."

"Ugh fine," Giselle gave Ning a little shake by the shoulder, "Hey, that's enough."

If it weren't for Giselle's intervention, the three of you would have continued to a point of no return. The bubble in which you were enclosed was so thick that when you separated from the kiss, the three of you were slightly disoriented, and of course, you had a painfully hard boner.

"Honey, would you get off of me? I don't think it's time to fuck you yet," you told Ning, and she obeyed without saying a single word, knowing that sooner or later she'll have her piece of cake. She sat down next to you and crossed her legs immediately.

"I... I need to go to the bathroom, but this is my first time coming to this house," Jimin said, "could someone uh… come with me?"

"I'll go," you jumped in immediately, not willing to waste a clear shot. You glanced at Minjeong, who was trying to hide her proud little smile. Jimin looked surprised, she didn't expect you to be the first volunteer.

"O-okay," she nodded, and then stood up to wait for you in the hallway.

"Don't drain him too much!" Ning said to Jimin as you stood next to her. Jimin's cheeks flushed red, and you had to put your hand on her back to get her to walk forward.

"Don't pay attention to her, she usually makes those kinds of jokes," you said, walking side by side with Jimin.

"The jokes aren't the problem," she continued to avoid your gaze as much as possible, instead looking around her, "the problem is that..."

"Is that?" you asked, noticing that she didn't finish the sentence.

"Nothing, I'm not going to say it," she said, as you stopped in the middle of the living room adjacent to the kitchen. You stared at her, "what?"

"You don't really need to go to the bathroom, do you?" you asked, and noticed a hint of panic in her eyes.

"Huh? O-Of course I do!" She feigned annoyance, but your eyes didn't lie to you.

"Then explain that to me," you made a small gesture with your finger towards her crotch. Her bikini bottom had a small stain on it, one that she certainly hadn't realized was there judging by her shocked eyes.

"Oh my god!" she screamed, and was about to run away if you hadn't grabbed her wrist.

"Hey, just be honest with me."

"About what?" You pulled her towards you, planting her inches from your face but without making physical contact with her body.

"Tell me, you want me to help you with that, don't you?" Jimin remained silent at your sudden advance, but when she looked down and saw your bulge kept in your boxers, her face changed.

"Ever since I saw your boner in the pool I haven't stopped thinking about how I want to have you inside me," her lips parted and for the first time all day she held eye contact with you for more than five seconds.

"I know you're not a pure thoughts innocent girl, so say it," you murmured. Jimin was silent again for a few seconds, but in the midst of her silence she reached for her neck with her free hand and untied the knot that held her bikini top to it, thus releasing a pair of nice, big tits that made your mouth water.

"Fuck me daddy..." her tiny, seductive tone of voice vibrated in your ears, "grant me the privilege of being able to have that big, juicy cock inside my needy pussy."

The sudden change in her personality caused mixed feelings in you, on the one hand you didn't know if that side was natural for her or it was just due to the body heat that the alcohol caused in her, but on the other she was driving you completely crazy. You didn't even know where to start, so you just did what any decent man could do at the time. You kissed her with all your might.

Giselle wasn't wrong about her. She was an excellent kisser, you confirmed this as you wrapped your arms around her waist and moved your hands up and down her bare back. Her skin felt creamy and soft under your fingertips. You hugged her against you, her tits crushing against your chest and her pretty stomach pressed against yours. She wrapped her arms around your neck, but her hands didn't stay still for long either. Jimin cupped your face first, letting out small moans against your mouth as you squeezed her ass and held her waist tightly. Then her hands went down your chest, one of them stayed on your waist, and the other went down to your hard cock to massage it over your boxers.

You slowly pushed her back, resting her lower back against the edge of the long floating cabinet. With a small lift of her you sat her up on the polished wood of her, and you got between her wide open legs to separate yourself from her lips and concentrate now on her long neck. Jimin brought a hand to the back of your head and tangled her fingers in your hair, she leaned her head and shoulders against the wall, and with her free hand she groped your cock inside your boxers, small moans coming out of her mouth as you filled her neck with kisses and bites.

"Baby wants me to suck her tits or eat her pussy?" you said against her neck, then you moved your kisses up to her jaw, and then back down to her shoulders.

"Why not both, daddy?" Jimin asked amidst cute moans.

"Do you want both?" You went up to her lips and gave her little kisses, then to her cheeks and her chin.

"Yes daddy please..." she gasped, gently stroking your cock underneath your boxers, "and I want to suck your cock too, will you let me?"

"Are you needy for daddy's cock, baby?" You teased, you lowered your kisses again, this time to her collarbone and the space between her two tits.

"Yes daddy... very very needy," she responded with her breathing becoming more labored, "I'm a good girl, I promise."

"First let daddy spoil you, then you can show me what a good girl you are..." you moved a few inches to the left, and she held her breath before you took most part of her tit into your mouth.

Jimin moaned in a sweet tone to your ears, both of her hands now on your shoulders. You started with slow and sensual sucks on her nipple, adding licks in circles around it and kisses on her spongy flesh. You repeated the same thing on the other side, and in no time you became addicted to her pair of pretty breasts.

You spent a couple of minutes just on her tits, but it could have been more if it weren't for the need you had to also eat her pussy, so you gave her mounds a couple more licks and sucks before moving down with your mouth through her abdomen. Her tummy was pure perfection for you, it was slightly toned, but it still retained that fleshiness that drove you so crazy about a girl. Her skin was creamy soft, and despite having recently been in a pool there was still a faint scent of body cream left. You finally reached her lower abdomen, just inches from her pube.

"Daddy wants me to take it off for him?" Jimin asked with a moan as she looked down at you, gripping her fingers at both knots on either side of her hips.

"Go ahead baby, daddy wants to see that pretty pussy," you nodded, kneeling to place small kisses on the inside of her thighs. Jimin acted quickly, and within seconds she untied the knots. With her bikini bottom now loose from her hips she only had to lift her hips and yank it off.

"Do you like it, daddy? It's wet and warm for you…" Jimin's pussy was now exposed just inches from your face, she brought two fingers to it, rubbing them up and down across her glistening folds.

"I fucking love it sweetie," certainly her pussy was like a work of art, but in this case, more of a gourmet dish which you didn't think not to taste.

You placed both hands on the back of her thighs and pulled them back, holding her legs wide open to have her pussy at better disposal. You didn't think it was right to make her wait too long, so you avoided foreplay and went straight to the action. You brought your face closer slowly, eyes on her at all times, stuck out your tongue, and she held her breath as you planted it flat right between her folds. You slowly licked upwards, and Jimin finally let out a long moan that was music to your ears.

Her pussy was wetter than it appeared on the surface, adding a softness and flavor that was immediately addictive. You began to use your tongue calmly and gently, making sure she felt every tiny movement before you started eating her out like a hungry dog. You licked every fold of hers, her clit, and every corner of her slit. That was enough to surprisingly make her cum.

"I'm sorry, daddy!" she moaned, shaking between small moans, "I was so needy, but keep going, overstimulate me, I'll be a good girl!"

If she said so, you had no problem satisfying her desires. You didn't wait for her body to stop shuddering before you began to really eat her out, kissing, sucking and licking between her folds. Jimin squealed, sometimes more similar to a moan and other times more like a whimper, but she didn't stop shaking off of her at any time, you had to hold her by her waist so she wouldn't fall.

You focused on her clit, quick, sharp licks with the tip of your tongue. Jimin gripped the edge of the cabinet with weak fingers, her hips shaking like hell and her breathing extremely labored. Her fluids kept leaking between her folds, but you soaked up every little drop of it as if your life depended on it. You were grateful that where the girls were, the music was so loud that it was impossible to hear anything that was in another room, because you had rarely heard a girl moan as loudly as Jimin did at that moment.

It didn't take long for her to reach another orgasm, but that didn't stop you from continuing. Jimin writhed and trembled as if she were being exorcized. She really scared you for a few seconds, but after a few seconds you confirmed that she was just in a fierce tide of pleasure. No moans came out of her mouth, only muffled sounds and heavy gasps. Her eyes were blank, rolled back thanks to the impeccable work of your mouth. She closed her legs around your head, both of her creamy soft thighs pressed against your cheeks as you continued to eat her out furiously. At that point your jaw and your tongue were equally tired, and you could no longer double your efforts, but you could give one last effort to make her cum for the third time in a row.

"OH FUCKKKK!!!" Her primal scream echoed throughout the room and nearly burst your eardrums. Her hands went to your head, nails digging into your scalp in the midst of intense spasms. She had no idea how much force she used, so it was painful for you, but seeing the tears pool in her eyes and then fall from them down her cheeks made it totally worth it. Her pussy was dripping to the point of soaking her buttocks and the wood under her ass, and her body couldn't stop shaking and shuddering.

"Did my little baby enjoy it?" you asked, her trembling thighs still crushing your head.

"C-c..." her voice hung by a thread, so low that you could barely hear it, "C-cock... i-in m... my mouth..." she loosened her thighs, and now blood was circulating normally to your brain.

"You're completely destroyed and you still want to please daddy?" you asked, standing up again. She only nodded weakly, "You really are a very good girl..." as soon as you cupped her face she sought your lips, you noticed that it was difficult for her to move so you leaned forward to kiss her for a few long seconds, "Come on, let's find something more comfortable."

You grabbed Jimin by her waist and carefully lowered her from the cabinet. As expected she couldn't even stand up, so you had to carry her in your arms. You turned around and walked between two individual armchairs, having on your right the large white leather sofa that you would lay Jimin on. You placed one of the four cushions behind her head and another on her feet. Sunlight filtered in from the left thanks to the large sliding window that ran from wall to wall. You could just press a button and have all the blinds close, but knowing that the girls were only a few meters away and that they could see you at any moment if they went out to the pool gave you a certain shot of adrenaline that made everything more pleasant.

With Jimin now lying on the couch you stood next to her and pulled down your boxers, revealing your erect and throbbing cock just above her eyes, which shone like two sea pearls at the sight of your entire length.

"Oh god... it's so big," Jimin said, slowly catching her breath, "put it..." she had to pause, "put it in my mouth, please..."

You knelt down, your crotch now level with Jimin's face. You took your cock in one hand, Jimin turned her face towards you, and you slowly brought your tip closer to her parted lips. She thought you would put it inside right away, but her attractive lips made you first rub against them a few times, tracing the outline until you let her take you inside her mouth.

At first you had to help her with a hand on the back of her head since she was still a little weak, but less than a minute passed when she rolled onto her side, rested her elbow on the couch and started pumping her head back and forth. Her pretty lips felt like pure velvet on your cock, and to your not-so-surprising surprise, she knew how to use them more than well. You placed a hand on one of her tits and squeezed it gently, gasping at the continuous movement of her mouth which as the seconds passed took more of you inside her.

"You suck daddy's cock so well baby..." you gasped, caressing the side of her face with your hand and tucking her hair behind her ear. Her slurping sounds were driving you crazy, and if that weren't enough she showed she had a rather non-existent gag reflex that she took advantage of to take you straight down her throat. Her nose rested against your pubic bone, and her big, bright eyes looked up at you, "Oh my god! Ugh! How do you know how to do that?" you groaned.

"I'd rather not tell you daddy..." she grabbed your cock by the base and gave it a few long, sensual sucks, "just let your baby please you."

"You can do whatever you want with daddy's cock," you bit your lip, your breathing heavy thanks to the precise and pleasurable pumping of Jimin's head. She was not only excellent at kissing, but also at sucking cock, and you just wondered what other surprises that girl was hiding.

You let her continue doing her job, and she certainly did wonders for your piece of meat inside her mouth. The way she used her tongue on the back of your cock and her way of taking advantage of the softness of her lips was going to lead you to ruin soon, but you didn't want to cum yet, not before giving her what she craved so much, so you stopped her. She looked at you with worried eyes.

"I thought I was doing a good job daddy..." she said.

"Indeed you were, but daddy needs to be inside that pussy as soon as possible," Jimin's eyes lit up again, "do you feel okay to go?"

"Yeah!" she nodded immediately, "please fuck me daddy, I need it so much!"

"How do you want me to do it?" You gave her a kiss on her lips, then another on her forehead.

"Anyway you like, daddy," she kissed you back, "but I can't be up... you know why."

“No problem, daddy will take care of you,” the couch was thick enough for you both to fit comfortably, so you got to work.

You stood up and the first thing Jimin instinctively did was pick up her legs, holding them both with her arms behind her knees, pressing them against her body and already giving you a perfect position in which you could fuck her. You climbed onto the couch and knelt in front of her, your cock was already well lubricated by Jimin's saliva, so you only had to rub yourself between her folds a few times before pressing your hips forward, letting her pussy slowly engulf your length.

"Mmmmgh!" Jimin covered her mouth and stifled a scream against it (you didn't really understand why, natural instinct, you assumed), "Be careful daddy!" she moaned when your cock was halfway down.

"It hurts?" you asked, tempted to just push down and go all the way in.

"A little... I've never had something that big inside me," she admitted, you noticed a slight reddish blush on her cheeks.

"Not even a dildo?" You pushed as slowly as you could, each time gaining more inches.

"Impossible, I almost never have privacy at home... mmm fuck!!" Finally you took your entire cock inside her pussy, you gasped as you felt the warmth, and how her velvety walls made you shiver.

"Then relax and let daddy make you enjoy the experience..." once fully inside her you slumped forward between Jimin's legs. Her tits pressed against your chest, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around your body. You began to move slowly, attentive to every tiny twist in the girl's face. Your movements were long, slow and sensual, she loved that, you noticed it in how her eyebrows arched, her breathing became heavy and her eyes rolled back.

“Oh fuck daddy… just make love to me, please,” she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you into a loving kiss, filled with moans and heavy pants.

No more words left your mouth (it's not like she'd let you anyway), you just moved your hips back and forth, making sure every movement was as satisfying as possible for both her and you. Soon you stopped concentrating so much on doing well and just let yourself go. Your hands ran all over Jimin's body, her tits served as gripping points for long seconds, you squeezed, massaged and played with her nipples. Jimin’s thighs gripped your lats, flesh pressing against flesh from absolutely every inch. Jimin caressed your back, moan after moan muffled in a kiss you never wanted to get out of.

You didn't start moving faster, but you did start moving harder. Your cock slid all the way in and all the way out with each thrust, shaking Jimin's slightly sweaty body beneath you. She arched her back in pleasure and consequently separated from your lips, you took advantage of that to kiss her neck once again. While you left little marks on her pale skin she tangled her fingers between strands of your hair and gave you little tugs towards her. You exhaled your hot breath against her neck, and came up to moan into her ear. She filled the side of your face with kisses, and you sought her lips once more.

Inevitably your instincts led you to want to move faster, and so you did, but not wanting to fail to comply with her request, you did so in a moderate manner, maintaining the same level of force but slightly increasing the revolutions per second. Jimin's entire body appreciated this, her calves and heels digging into your back, and now more than ever you were as close as two bodies could be to each other.

"Daddy..." she gasped, her face red and her eyes weak, "I'm going to cum on your cock daddy... mmmgh!" As her moans reached her peak until now you raised your head a little to remove her arms from around it. You took her two hands and intertwined your fingers to put them on the armband behind her head.

"Cum for daddy then... one more time, come on," you stared at her, fucking her just the way she wanted to bring her to an imminent fourth orgasm. After a few seconds she finally exploded around your cock. You felt her pussy and your cock considerably wetter, and as she writhed between moans and spasms you noticed that she had squirted (also staining a sofa whose high price you were unaware of). Another surprise that came out of Pandora's box.

"Don't stop daddy... mmghhh! I want your cum!" she managed to say as her legs now loose from your torso trembled and her hips twitched.

"Will my baby let me cum on her pretty tongue?" you asked between gasps, beads of sweat falling down both sides of your temple.

"Finish wherever you please daddy..." she moaned, "my body is all yours, just use it however you want."

With that said you straightened your back and grabbed Jimin's legs behind her knees. She had already cum, and thanks to that you considered her request as satisfied, it was your turn to enjoy. The pumps became considerably faster, she began to scream, overstimulated in every possible way as her orgasm had not yet fully passed. Even though you would have liked to continue fucking her like that, all the pleasure previously built in you began to take its toll on you.

Jimin's flushed face and her bouncing tits made you take a deep breath as you felt tingles around your pubic area. Her whimpers were getting a little too loud for your ears, so instinctively your first reaction was to bring one of your hands to her neck. Through all the flailing you didn't realize how hard you were squeezing until you saw Jimin gasp for breath, you didn't know if she was really enjoying it, but judging by how her eyebrows furrowed and her toes wrinkled, you could have an idea of what the answer was.

After a few thrusts you felt on the edge. You let go of her neck and left her pussy to kneel on the floor next to her face. She stuck her tongue out, just like she had done a few minutes ago to drink the vodka, and you started jerking off as fast as you could with the tip of your cock pressed against her tongue. You made eye contact with her, and that was the icing on the cake to make you explode.

"Aghhhh fuck!!" you exclaimed, feeling your entire soul leaking out of your body as you shot your load onto Jimin's hot tongue. She let your cum form a pool in her mouth, and when she felt it was too much she began to swallow it as best she could without any retching to interrupt her. You continued emptying your balls for a few long seconds, but she continued swallowing every single drop as if it were an everyday task.

"That was delicious daddy..." Jimin said when the cum was no longer coming out of your cock and she had swallowed it all, "I... I'll give you my number, but right now I need to sleep."

"Do you want me to take you to my room?" you ask panting, cock still in hand.

"Do you have a room here?" she asked incredulously.

"I spend more time here than at home, so Ryujin gave me a room. Although now that I think about it, I never use it, I always sleep with her," she managed to laugh out of her weakness and lack of energy.

"Okay, take me to your room," she nodded, "I can't walk, so I'm sorry to make it so difficult for you."

"I'll take care of it, just relax."

You stood up and bent your knees to put one arm under her knees and the other under her back. You picked her up like a princess, and she snuggled into your chest. Wanting to avoid the girls you took an alternative route upstairs, slower but safer.

"What do you plan to tell the girls when they ask you about me?" She asked sleepily as you walked up the stairs.

"I don't know, maybe you were feeling bad?"

"Out of nowhere? I doubt they believe that."

"Do you have anything better?" You walked until you reached the door of your room, which you had to make a superhuman effort to open with Jimin in your arms.

"Not really, just say what you think is best then," she sighed.

Your room wasn't as big as Ryujin's, but it was already bigger than the one at home and you considered it comfortable enough for Jimin to rest well. You laid her down on one of her two pillows, she settled on her side, and you covered her with the blanket. You turned on the air conditioning, and turned off the lights.

"Rest well baby, I'll see you in a bit," you whispered in her ear, and then left the room.

Due to your chivalrous act you had not even realized that you were still naked, and in a house where most of the walls were made of glass that was something quite dangerous, especially when the window in front of you was the one that faced the street. You considered it useless to try to cover your crotch, so you just ran downstairs in search of your underwear. Arriving in the living room where you were a few minutes ago, you realized what a real mess you and Jimin had made, so you took a moment to organize everything again before putting on your underwear and putting away Jimin's bikini in one of the drawers of the floating cabinet where you ate her. There remained the small problem of the gigantic stain on the sofa, but that was a matter that you would take care of later.

When you returned to the eye of the hurricane you found things calmer than you thought, Ning on the couch jumping to the rhythm of There's Nothing Holding Me Back by Shawn Mendes with a drink in her hand, Minjeong calm and quiet as always, and Giselle smoking another cigarette while drinking on the single couch.

"Jimin died in the bathroom and you were burying her or what?" Giselle asked when she saw you arrive, she took a drag on her cigarette.

"Her stomach went bad thanks to the alcohol, she threw up in the bathroom and I was just taking care of her," you stood in front of her and motioned with your finger towards the cigarette box.

"Stop lying!" Ning exclaimed behind you, "you fucked her so hard you sent her to sleep!" You knew it was best to stay silent, but he who remains silent grants, so you were screwed either way.

"Did you fuck her?" Giselle asked before giving you the cigarette, only motioning her lips so that no one else would know.

"What do you think?" You shrugged, not wanting to say yes to be a gentleman. You took the cigarette from her hand with one agile movement, and turned around to grab the lighter from the table. You lit the cigarette, took a drag, and went to sit with Minjeong.

"How does she suck cock?" She asked as soon as you sat down next to her, you sighed, done with your existence.

"Better than you," you said just to annoy her, and took another drag on the cigarette.

"Well probably, but my pussy is and will remain the tightest you'll ever be inside," she leaned forward and took the cigarette from your fingers to take a drag, the Minjeong of a few months ago would have choked on the smoke, this one now swallowed it and expelled it without any problem. You took the cigarette back from her.

"Get your own cigarette, fool.”

"Hey! Aren't you guys hungry?" Giselle asked from across the room.

"He definitely isn't!" Ning said pointing at you, and burst into laughter. The alcohol was already affecting her a bit, since in the middle of her laughter she almost fell off the couch.

"Actually I am, do you girls want a barbecue?" you asked them, "I remember seeing some nice pieces in the freezer."

"Oh fuck yes," Giselle agreed, taking the last drag on her cigarette before putting it out and throwing the butt into a glass jar that was originally on a shelf.

"I haven't had a meal since yesterday, so I can eat anything right now!" Ning said, the song ending at that moment, and she stopped dancing to sit on your right.

"I can go help you season and prepare everything, honey," Minjeong said, placing her hand on yours.

"Thanks darling," you nodded, and then looked at Giselle, "you two can be helpful and set up the grill."

"And... how do you do that?" Ning asked.

"Simple, you just have to put charcoal under the grill. There's a bag outside right next to it I think," another drag on your cigarette, discarding the ashes in the jar.

"Aight, we'll look it up on YouTube, let's go," Giselle stood up, and Ning followed her.

"Looks like it's just you and me again," Minjeong giggled, now standing in front of you.

"As it should always be, right?" you smiled, and stood up with her.

"It should, yeah," she smiled back, took your hand and you gave her a kiss on the forehead before heading to the kitchen. On the way you passed by the scene of the incident, and you tried to do everything possible so that she did not look towards the sofa, but being the observant person that she was, she saw it, "and what is that?"

"Uh what are you talking about?" you made a fool of yourself.

"That big ass stain on the couch," she pointed at it, "what is it?"

"Uh..."

"Cum?"

"Well… not exactly."

"She damn squirted?" You remained silent, and with a lost look you took a drag on the cigarette, "holy mother of God, you destroyed her."

"Well, anyway, we have some food to prepare. Come on," you walked straight to the kitchen, and Minjeong followed you, laughing.

There was more to choose from in the freezer than you remembered. There were t-bones, beef and pork ribs, and wide beef tenderloins. You waited a while for everything to defrost, but when your patience ran out you simply used the microwave to do the job. There were several different cuts, so you seasoned each one in a different way. For the T-Bone you only used a layer of grain salt and pepper, and for the wide loin you used the same but adding a layer of olive oil. The ribs were the main attraction, so you put a little more effort into it. For the beef ribs you had to first prepare a BBQ sauce, and for the pork ribs you had to prepare a sauce based on various seasonings for a better flavor. When everything was ready, you loaded everything onto wide plates and went outside.

Giselle and Ning had done a better job than you thought, the grill was perfectly prepared, with a perfect amount of charcoal. The grill was quite large, so you had plenty of space to put the plates to the side and start making all the cuts little by little. After about 40 minutes everything was perfectly cooked and ready.

You had a quiet, alcohol-free meal, which was already an achievement considering who you were with. During the meal the chemistry between you, the girls and Giselle increased, you learned many things about her, among the most notable, that she was a student of Criminal Law in the United States, her father was an associate justice of the Supreme Court, and her mother was an architect. She also told you that she was on vacation here with her mother, and that she would be returning to the United States next week.

"Damn, those pork ribs were amazing, what the fuck," Giselle said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

"Thank me, I'm a culinary genius," Minjeong smiled, as if you hadn't given her every instruction in great detail.

"You? You almost ruined a ramen once, a ramen!" Ning exclaimed, “You literally just boil water and put in the noodles!”

"I was high as fuck, and unlike you three I could stand up."

"Speaking of being high..." Giselle began, and she looked at the three of you, "are you up for it?"

"This house keeps more weed than Uncle Snoop's," you said, "you literally just have to say how you want it."

"That much?" She, incredulous, raised an eyebrow.

"Not really, I'm just exaggerating, but Ryujin has enough to survive 2 months."

"Does she have a bong?"

"Nah, that's too much for her. I can offer you blunts, she bought a pack recently."

"Where the fuck did she get a pack of blunts? Ready to smoke?"

"Yep. And I don't know, but it's certainly not legal."

"How ironic that the daughter of a supreme court judge would be interested in something like this," Minjeong laughed.

"Oh honey, my crime is child's play compared to all the shit that some people of my kind do," Giselle responded, you noticed some arrogance in her tone.

"I know, all Americans are rotten in absolutely every way, no wonder," Minjeong snapped back, cold as ice. There was an awkward silence, and Ning giggled to try to break it, but she only made it more awkward.

"Well, who's going to wash the dishes with me?" you asked after a few seconds, and Giselle stood up instantly.

"I'll go, I don't want to get into an argument with your pretty little girlfriend and ruin my opinion of her," Giselle didn't bother waiting for you and left the room.

"It was just a joke, honey! Don't get upset!" Minjeong exclaimed for her to hear, with a mocking giggle.

"Enough," you said, and she stayed silent as you stood up, "I don't think that was the most appropriate thing to say to her."

"Did I lie?"

"I don't care, just think things before you say them," that was the last thing you said to her before turning your back on the two of them, "Ning, get the blunts while we wash the dishes."

"Can I smoke one?!" You heard her say as you walked away from there.

"No!" you responded, and went to meet Giselle again. You heard the tap running before you arrived, she was already washing a couple of cutlery, and you approached from behind.

"Your girlfriend isn't usually tactful when saying things, is she?" She asked as she heard you arrive, now speaking in English. You stood behind her, your lower back leaning against the stove behind you.

"It's not like you didn't make it easy for her," you crossed your arms, not the least bit interested in moving since you had a front row view of her enormous ass from behind.

"It's one thing to make fun of myself and quite another to be made fun of," she reluctantly threw a piece of cutlery and the sponge into the dishwasher and turned around after closing the tap, catching you looking down, "did you come to help me or to see my ass?"

"The order of the factors doesn't alter the product, I was going to do it right now," you took another discreet glance at her fleshy thighs before meeting her eyes.

"Are you sure? I see you very comfortable there," she huffed, also crossing her arms to imitate you, but also to put her tits together and form an attractive cleavage.

"It's because you're using the dishwasher," she wanted you to see her tits, and you did that in small intervals of time.

"There's a free one literally to your right," she said, eyes trained on you.

"Well, you caught me, I just stood there to see your ass, so what?"

"Oh no, it's okay..." for the first time she looked down, straight at your boxers, you didn't need to follow her eyes to know what she was looking at, "tell me something, pretty boy..." she gave a slow step forward, then another, and that way until she was standing inches from you, "you love it, don't you? and you love my thighs too..." she placed her hands on the counter on either side of you, somehow imprisoning you.

"Mmm… not enough yet, they have to pass a quality test first," you stared into her eyes.

"And what quality test are we talking about?" You didn't respond with words, but with actions. Two hands right on the sides of her thighs, caressing them up and down. The smile on Giselle's face told you that your bold act pleased her.

"Do you have something in mind?" From her thighs you moved to her waist, pulling her towards you to press her body against yours.

"I have a lot of things on my mind right now, honey..." she left her hands on your chest, your lips a few centimeters away, "you know? today I feel generous... why not give you what you want?" Giselle pulled away and turned around, then pressed her ass against your bulging crotch, "come on, pull it down pretty boy..."

You didn't doubt it for a second. You grabbed Giselle's bikini bottom by the back curb and slowly folded it down to her knees. Her bare ass was even more tempting and eye-catching than you imagined, her soft, round, juicy buttocks pressed against you. Your cock hardened in a matter of seconds, and when you felt this you pulled your boxers down to your ankles in a single pull. You noticed a sly little smile on Giselle's face as the back of your cock rubbed against the space between her ass cheeks.

"I guess the dishes can wait..." you murmured close to her ear. You surrounded her delicious body with both arms, and she twisted her hips to knead your cock with her ass.

"Are you going to fuck me against the dishwasher, casanova?" She asked with her face half turned towards you, she brought one hand back to cradle your face.

"Not yet," you moved a hand up to her neck and then to her chin, you turned her face towards you and kissed her.

Her full, soft lips welcomed yours in a deep kiss, full of passion and a growing feeling of desire. She pressed her ass back, grinding your cock between her silky buttocks. You couldn't help but grab the front of her thighs, feeling the firm flesh between your fingers. You left one hand on her left thigh, and the other you took to her crotch, right to her plump pussy which you rubbed with your index and middle fingers, you did it gently, feeling like her folds gradually became wetter and wetter. She stifled a subtle moan against your lips, feeling arousal take over her body.

You now took the hand you had on her thigh between your bodies to grab your cock and rub it between her buttocks, your tip caressed her butthole, and lower down it met her wet pussy. She held her breath in the middle of your kiss, thinking that you were going to penetrate her, but what you did was put your cock between her thighs. Giselle pulled away from your lips and gave you a little smile, pressing her legs together to crush your boner between them.

"So you want a thighjob huh?" she teased with a giggle, "I don't blame you... they are perfect after all," she spit a considerable amount of saliva into her hand and brought it between her thighs to grab your cock, you moaned just from her touch, as she let your cock slippery between strokes, "go ahead, have fun."

With the green light to do whatever you wanted, the first thing you did was put your two hands on her waist, and without thinking twice you began to move slowly from back to front. Not even ten seconds passed when you already felt like you were in heaven, and you let her know that with the loud moans that came out of your mouth. Her thighs were the closest thing to perfection you had ever felt, a perfect balance between softness, firmness and fleshiness that hugged your cock in an overwhelming meat sandwich.

"Fuck it... they passed the quality test," you gasped, pumping your hips faster and faster, "they're perfect and I love them," she giggled and you buried your face in her neck to fill it with kisses and bites.

"Your cock isn't bad either..." she murmured in your ear as it slid smoothly between her thighs and also rubbed against her wet pussy from the top, "it feels thick and delicious between my thighs… I can't wait to know what it feels like inside this fat pussy."

"You're driving me crazy, Uchinaga, you better shut up..." you growled, using one hand to untie her bikini top and pull it off her chest, you couldn't get a view of what you had freed, but as you put both your hands there you came across a pair of surprisingly big tits. These were just the right size to fit in your hands, but they felt full, round and soft like two stress balls, "and you have two perfect tits too?" you asked, pumping your cock harder and harder, her ass slapping against your pelvis with each thrust between her thighs.

"Thank genetics..." she placed her hands on yours as you massaged and squeezed her tits, "hell, thank life I'm giving you the chance to have me, lucky motherfucker."

"You're the only one of the girls who hasn't called me daddy yet," you lowered one of your hands from her tits to her pussy, "what are you waiting for?" She tried to laugh, but you started rubbing her clit in quick circles.

"D-don't even fucking dream of it, asshole," she managed to say before a moan escaped her, "you're not even close to earning that privilege."

"We'll see that... bitch," you continued fucking her thighs and rubbing her pussy for a few long seconds in which your moans overlapped. Giselle was melting in your arms, thanks to how you rubbed your cock between her folds and how you moved your fingers over her clit, "I'm going to fuck you so hard that when I come out of you you'll feel like a part of you is missing."

"I want to see you try, mmh!" she pursed her lips in a slight squeal, "fuck me, you bastard! fuck me hard!"

That felt like a sudden change of chip for you, you put your hands on Giselle's shoulders and roughly pushed her forward. You pulled the boxers off your legs, and took a stride forward to push her again, this time she was leaning against the edge of the dishwasher, and you stood right behind her. She bent her back, her head right next to the faucet as you rubbed your cock against her pale buttocks. You were eager to give her what she deserved, so you brought one hand to her waist and with the other you guided your cock between her buttocks. Finding her pussy you rubbed your tip up and down for a few short seconds, she turned to look at you over her shoulder, and locking eyes with her you pressed forward, taking your cock inch by inch inside her.

You couldn't utter a word as your cock pushed its way between her plump folds and reached deep inside her hot and extremely wet pussy. Giselle bit her fist to stifle a moan, feeling every inch of you filling her. Her ass rested against your pelvis, and you could have spent hours watching her buttocks hide your shaft, but you had a clear mission to fulfill.

The pumps began, your hips moving back and forth slowly at first to feel in detail how your cock slid smoothly in and out of her. Within seconds Giselle's eyes were demanding more, and you were happy to give it to her. With two hands on her waist you increased your pace, little by little making her big ass bounce with each thrust. You raised both hands to her ribs and moved them to her back, you left them there for a few seconds, but then you raised them to her shoulders to bend her back upwards. She clung to the edge of the dishwasher, and with her head thrown back she began to moan shamelessly.

"Do you like it, you arrogant bitch?" you asked with your lips pursed, breathing like a raging bull as you made her body shake like a rag with each thrust.

"Do it harder!! Be fucking rude and destroy me!! FUCK!!" Her pleas made you smile between your gasps. You knew very well how to be tough, Ryujin had that side of you well trained and polished. Easy peasy.

You raised one hand and let it fall at full speed on one of her buttocks, your spank made a wave on her flesh and left the shape of your hand marked in red on her skin. Giselle squealed with pleasure, but it was a squeal that only meant she wanted more. You repeated the action a few times, giving her the hardest spanks you had ever given anyone until you left her ass a vibrant red.

Her buttocks were now squeezed and kneaded by your hands, you did it knowing that her skin was sensitive and that it was itching for her. A normal person would be bothered by that, but Giselle only became more turned on.

When you stopped kneading her buttocks you brought one hand to her right thigh and made her raise her knee to the marble edge. With one of her legs now lifted you began to fuck her just as hard but this time hitting deeper, so much that you felt like if you were a few centimeters bigger you would have pierced her endocervix. Giselle went crazy with high-pitched squeals, and you leaned forward to grab a generous handful of her hair, pulling it back and making her growl.

"So you like being mistreated huh?!!" You teased with a devilish grin on your face, roughly pulling her head back on purpose as you hammered into her pussy like a tireless machine.

"I fucking love it!!" she admitted with a cry, as your pelvis crashed again and again against her round buttocks, "don't stop da..."

"You could have at least warned me, damn it!" Ning's voice coming from an unknown place brought you out of your zen zone, just when it seemed like Giselle was going to say the word. You and Giselle turned around immediately, stopping what you were doing to see Ning standing with her arms crossed next to a trophy case.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to go get the damn blunts?" You exclaimed somewhat angry since you were still inside Giselle and your body demanded more pleasure.

"I already did! But I wanted to know what you were doing since you guys were taking so long!" She excused herself in the best way she could, "but I'm leaving, I'm sorry!"

"Oh hell no," you interrupted her, and Giselle looked at you confused, "you're going to stay here watching me destroy this kinky little bitch."

"Oh really?" Ning asked. You turned back to Giselle and picked up right where you left off, pulled her hair again, and continued pounding her pussy with all your might, "Well shit, that's a yes."

"Come on you damn bitch, say what you were going to say!!" You ordered Giselle, lowering her thigh from over the edge of the dishwasher and pulling her up to press her back against your chest. With her face now on the side of yours you brought one hand to her neck to squeeze it, and with the other you gave her a slap that you didn't care in the least how hard it was.

"MHGHHHHH!!!" Giselle squealed, feeling her pussy being destroyed by your throbbing cock at full speed, "DON'T STOP DADDY, DON'T YOU DARE STOP!!" Just then Ning stood next to you, her elbow leaning on a counter.

"Your cock is so magical that you managed to break even this bad bitch," Ning laughed, watching with fascinated eyes as you fucked her, "I'll have my turn, won't I?"

You didn't have the head to give Ning any attention at that moment, not when you had Giselle at your complete mercy and on the verge of breaking. One hand of yours went to her neck and the other went back to her pussy, you cut off her breath without thinking twice, and began to quickly rub her clit in between the thrusts.

"Cum, you fucking bitch, cum!!" You growled in her ear as her distorted face turned red. And almost as if by magic, a few seconds after saying that her body completely decompensated. Her entire body swayed and began to shake in your arms, her spasms made it difficult for you to keep her standing, and not caring that she was going through her orgasm you continued to thrust into her violently until you reached your limit as well.

You let go of Giselle's neck and brought your hands to her waist as you pumped slower, shooting thick jets of cum into her hot pussy. She continued to moan and squirm, even pulling her ass back trying to get you as deep inside her as possible. You moaned against her sweaty neck, giving her the last few thrusts before your orgasm passed and all your cum was dumped inside.

"I-I don't want a single word about this... understood?!" Giselle warned with wounded pride, looking out of the corner of her eye at Ning, who you hadn't realized was already completely naked.

"I'll be a coffin, woman, now, will you let me eat your pussy?" Ning asked without any shame.

"Sorry?"

"You don't think I'll let my man's cum fall to the floor, right?" Ning knelt next to you, waiting patiently for you to pull out of her pussy so she could start eating it.

"Oh fuck! Be careful, I'm still s-sensitive," Giselle sighed, her arms and thighs weak as Ning had both of her hands on her ass and her face buried between her buttocks. A few seconds passed as Ning pulled away from her slit, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

"Mmmm… I missed this taste, how delicious," Ning said, standing up and staring at you, "well? What are you waiting for, daddy?"

Under other circumstances you would have flatly refused another consecutive fuck, but you were feeling especially energetic at the moment, and fortunately for Ning, you felt capable of one more round at full intensity.

You pounced on Ning like a fierce predator, smashing your lips against hers and wrapping your arms around her body. She reciprocated your kiss with a small moan, caressing the hair on the back of your neck with one hand and your chest with the other. You brought your hands to her legs, and she got the message immediately, jumping up to wrap her legs around your torso so you could carry her. She wrapped her arms around your neck and deepened the kiss even further, adding her tongue and gasping in the middle of it.

You walked a few steps forward with her in your arms and leaned her against a wall. You separated yourself from her lips and began to kiss, bite and suck on her neck for a few seconds, then you lowered yourself further down, and when you reached her pair of round tits you took one of them to your mouth. Ning pressed you against her chest with a louder moan, while you sucked and licked each nipple with utmost dedication. By having her pressed and held against her wall she had the freedom to release one hand from around your neck, she took advantage of this to reach your cock and grab it firmly. You being still sensitive, that was somewhat painful, but she noticed this and loosened her grip on it, moving her hand slowly and carefully.

After almost a minute just dedicating the well-deserved time that you always dedicated to her perfect tits, you felt your cock ready for action again.

“Spit on daddy's cock, baby,” you ordered Ning, and she immediately spit on her hand to lubricate your cock again, using the remainder to rub her pussy a few times, “put it in yourself," a new order, eyes fixed on hers.

"Yes daddy… whatever you say," she sighed, grabbing your cock and guiding it into her own pussy. You saw in great detail how her face distorted as she slowly impaled herself on your cock, and how her eyes closed when you were completely inside her.

"Subby weak fucking slut..." Giselle said behind you, mocking Ning's obedience.

"You're not in the best position to make fun of me," Ning managed to say between moans that grew louder as you began to move your cock in and out of her pussy.

"At least I was tough for him, I'm sure the first time you saw him you sucked his cock with those puppy eyes of yours," you grabbed Ning's thighs and spread his legs wide open, pinning her against the wall to start fucking her gradually faster.

"Mmmmgh!" Ning groaned, wrapping her arms around your neck and giving you a small kiss, "Almost, I gave him a lap dance and we almost fucked in the middle of a hallway," you couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"Mother of God!" Giselle exclaimed, "you are a whore through and through."

"I'm not just a whore, I'm his whore!" She emphasized, inadvertently letting out a little scream of pleasure while you pressed her thighs between your fingers and fucked her mercilessly against the wall.

"Say it again, I don't think she fully understood it, baby," you murmured in her ear, panting and sweat dripping down your body.

"I'm daddy's good little whore!" she moaned louder as you hammered into her pussy, "everything of me belongs to him, especially my slutty tight pussy! Fuck!!"

"Damn, you sure have them well trained, huh?" Giselle teased with a giggle, "I have no doubt that Jiminie ended up in the same situation."

"Even worse," you said, removing Ning from the wall and turning to now sit her on the corner of the kitchen island. She left her legs wide open, and let go of your neck to rest her hands on the warm surface behind her back.

"So you did fuck her?" Ning laughed mockingly, but then she continued moaning as if nothing had happened. You slapped her to shut her up, and she moaned louder.

"Of course he fucked her, Jimin's pussy has been dripping since she saw him earlier," Giselle said, "I don't think she made it difficult for him."

"And neither do you," you laughed, grabbing Ning by her waist and fucking her as fast as your motor would allow, her tits bouncing off of her and her face twisting with pleasure.

"Well… I at least..." Giselle tried to find an excuse in vain, she knew her pride was indefensible at that moment, "ugh, fuck you."

Ning let her back flat, and with Giselle now quiet you focused on giving your favorite Chinese woman all the pleasure she desired. You lifted her legs, bringing her ankles together in the air and holding them with one hand. Ning loved it when you fucked her like that, you knew it from how she always massaged her own tits and bit her fingers between whimpers.

"Mmmmm! Give it to me daddy!" she squealed, curling her toes at the side of your face, "don't stop daddy!!" You released her ankles and hugged her raised legs against your body, now giving her deeper and stronger thrusts.

“Be a good girl and cum for daddy, you little slut,” you ordered with a growl.

"Yes daddy!! Just don't stop, don't fucking stop please!!!" she squealed, writhing on the counter. She was quiet for a few short seconds in which only the sounds of your pelvis colliding against her buttocks could be heard, and with a guttural squeal she exploded around your cock.

Ning's orgasms were always forceful and intense, she truly channeled pleasure with absolutely every part of her body, and you had to make a superhuman effort to keep her from falling off the island. With a firm grip around her thighs she stayed still in place, her back arching and her throat emanating pure sounds of pleasure. You gave her slow thrusts, feeling close to another orgasm but not wanting to cum inside her.

"Uchinaga, come here," you ordered as Ning's body relaxed and her orgasm subsided.

"Don't fucking tell me what to d-"

"I said come here!" you ordered, this time more stern and with an imperative tone. The next thing you saw was Giselle kneeling next to you, "good fucking girl."

You pulled out of Ning's pussy, left her sprawled on the island, and turned to Giselle, your cock between her eyebrows. You didn't even have to give her a command before she took your cock in one hand and guided it directly into her mouth. She began to suck you hard, taking more than half of your cock in a matter of seconds with each pump. She spit in the middle of the blowjob to make it more slippery, saliva falling from the corner of her lips to the floor but also drenching you with it.

Soon she didn't need a hand to help herself, she brought them both to your thighs, digging her nails into them to now move her head fully back and forth, giving you mini deep throats with each movement. You didn't need much more to explode once again. Giselle didn't seem to like the fact that you didn't warn, but she still took every inch of your cock into her mouth as you shot one last thick load into her body.

“Just watch that bitch swallow all his cum,” Minjeong's voice and giggle behind you.

"Fuck, this is the last straw…" Giselle said once she had swallowed all your cum and she pulled it out of your mouth. Her chin, her thighs, and her floor were soaked with saliva. You turned around, and saw Minjeong standing right where Ning was before. With her was Jimin, dressed in one of your baggy hoodies that you didn't even know you had left in that house.

"He really hit the grand slam today, didn't he?" Jimin laughed too.

"Ask Ning that, she's literally dead there," Minjeong scoffed.

"God, shut your mouth, it's no big deal," Giselle huffed, standing up and wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

"Did you rest well?" you asked Jimin, hiding your cock behind the island.

"Perfectly, daddy," she nodded with a little smile and a tender look, "and I think I'm ready for more fun."

"Oh honey, you're not ready," Minjeong denied, pulling the pack of blunts from behind her back, "this is just the beginning."

----------------------------------------

SPREN NOTES: My biggest job to date? Yeah. My best work to date? I think so. Is this divided into two parts? Of course. Wait for it.

#aespa smut #giselle smut #karina smut #winter smut #ningning smut #male reader smut #male reader insert #kpop smut #x male reader smut #x male reader #smut fanfic

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smutoperator · 2 months

Text

Underwater

Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader

Tags: cheating, diving, fingering, Hawaii, mermaid, multiple cumshots, pool, titfucking, toplessness, (plenty of) underwater sex, vacation

Word count: 4800.

Eunbi had enjoyed her vacation in Hawaii a lot. Experiencing new things with her best friend Minju and staying very far away from home had been a very pleasant experience for her, as she could eat new kinds of food, discover new activities, hang out along the beautiful Hawaiian beaches, and practice her hobby of scuba diving.

The fact that Eunbi and Minju had traveled in the winter to Hawaii, at the lowest season, meant they faced no crowds and were able not to rush anything in their trip experience. So much so that the two girls had now become the only two people left in the hotel. As Minju took a walk with her manager to explore some places, Eunbi now had the hotel all to herself.

Eunbi rested on the chair, wearing her favorite black bikini. The wintery sun of Hawaii was fairly weak, but enough to give her pale skin a little extra tanning. Eunbi then jumped in the pool, taking her water-proof camera with her as she started recording her diving and swimming under the water.

Minju was still a couple hours away from coming back, meaning Eunbi could be a little riskier. Knowing nobody was around her, Eunbi took some extra freedom, removing the bra from her bikini and getting herself topless in the pool. As the sole guest in the hotel, Eunbi was now just enjoying herself, going multiple times to the border of the pool and taking big jumps that made her fully-free boobs jiggle like jelly every time they touched the water. Eunbi looked like a sexy, stacked little mermaid as she navigated the entire pool under the water. The way her body, especially her hair, tits, legs and ass, moved was cinematic.

As Eunbi emerged from her long underwater dive, a bit of water splashed off the pool. But she was no longer alone, as a guy resting at the side of the pool appeared, his shirt now soaking wet thanks to her sudden reemergence happening in front of him. Eunbi panicked a little bit on the inside but tried to stay calm and use her problem-solving skills as an experienced woman who once led 11 girls on their road to stardom, instinctively covering her boobs as soon as she saw the man. "I'm sorry, I thought I was alone and no new guests would come to the hotel until 2 PM," she said, trying to explain the situation to the man without looking embarrassed.

"No need to be. I arrived earlier; sorry for disrupting you." You treated Eunbi very gently, making her calmer instantly. In the end, you were also shocked at how such a tiny woman could carry such a massive chest yet perform all those moves while swimming, as you didn't know anything about Eunbi's decade-long career as a well-rounded idol, the leader of a group that sold millions and is now pushing towards a solo career. She was just that short but very pretty girl you just met a minute ago at the pool of a hotel.

"You're so kind; how about you join me at the pool?" Eunbi politely asked as you put your tall body inside the pool while still fully clothed, sitting at the first step as you looked into Eunbi's eyes. You trembled a little as the water was quite cold, but Eunbi was already fully acclimated to it. Eunbi bumped her huge chest against yours, unveiling her real intentions as soon as you jumped in, giving you a first kiss you didn't know how to react to.

"Can I touch them?" you asked, still shy, regarding Eunbi's massive knockers. "Of course, do it as you please; as you can see, I'm very proud of them," Eunbi said back. You placed your right hand on her left boob, groping it softly. Eunbi climbed up a step at the pool and put her tits right in your face, as your hands were now joining your mouth in her right boob. You then firmly grabbed both, alternating between sucking each of her breasts. Then you buried your face on her torso, licking it all the way up to her neck.

Eunbi spiced things up, holding her left boob right in your mouth and letting both of you tongue her nipple while kissing each other. She then placed your head between her breasts and let you motorboat her, stopping it as she placed her hands on your neck and pushed you further into the pool. Eunbi sat on your lap to show off more of her body, as she was much shorter than you, who could get yourself on your knees and still have your head appear over the water. You firmly grabbed her big tits and continued to suck them just as you had started at the pool's border.

However, your little mermaid already had her next move in mind, as Eunbi detached from your body and started swimming away from you before moving back and yanking your shorts down in just one move. You were impressed at how such a short girl could be so strong. as Eunbi was now swimming fully underwater. The frigid waters meant your cock was still flaccid, but Eunbi was about to change it in a hurry, as just her strong touch was enough to activate your erection despite the adverse conditions. Fully submerged and on her knees, Eunbi looked at your boner with lots of lust, taking it in her mouth as soon as she could.

You watched as bubbles came out of Eunbi's mouth and nose. Her cock-sucking felt like a shark biting you under the water. "Damn, how can she do this with such ease?" you thought. Eunbi wasn't holding anything back, already inserting your cock deep in her throat from the get-go. When she finally ran out of air, she emerged kissing you, but with her right hand still masturbating your manhood.

It didn't take even 5 seconds before Eunbi was submerged again. You loved the way her wet hair waved under the water. You had never had any sexual activities under the water before, yet there was this tiny girl with big boobs giving you deepthroats underwater without even flinching. As Eunbi increased the heat in your crotch and you acclimated yourself to the water temperature, you took your shirt off and got yourself fully naked.

Eunbi abandoned her kneeling position and was floating and swimming, giving you a view of her firm ass and her strong thighs in motion as she continued to suck you off. You took a more active approach this time, thursting up to start fucking her mouth. Once again, Eunbi barely flinched and invited your challenge with open arms, performing an underwater gag as she pushed your cock as deep in her mouth as she could, and more bubbles came out of it. Eunbi then got back on her knees and pushed harder, sucking your cock more and more violently while bubbling under the water.

Eunbi had stayed a full minute and a half underwater, but it didn't even take two seconds before she was ready to go again. This time, Eunbi stayed on her feet even if the pool's depth was basically her height, slowly sliding down until your shaft finally aligned with her tits. Eunbi enveloped your cock like a sausage between a pair of buns, smirking every time your throbbing tip emerged out of her fun bags, her hair touching the pool's floor as she increased her tits grip at each fucking. You start moving your hips as Eunbi closes her eyes to not let the sun hit them, taking a more passive approach and letting you have fun with her knockers.

As Eunbi emerges after a minute-long underwater titfucking, she kisses you and already thinks about her next step, making sure her hands don't give your cock a single second of rest. You want to appreciate her massive boobs you just fucked, jiggling them with your hands before you suck them like a needy baby. Eunbi moans a little as she takes her thong off for your cock to impale her pussy. You grab Eunbi by her ass, pushing your hard phallus inside her as water comes out of her cunt. Eunbi bounces slowly as she moans. She never thought one of the new experiences she would take from Hawaii would be getting screwed underwater. She tries to slowly adjust to it as she clings onto you, feeling lots of friction in her pussy.

You try to increase Eunbi's arousal by jumping your mouth right into her tits and sucking her erected nipples. You're now in control, pumping harder and deeper each time inside her walls. Eunbi tries to put her feet at the border, but you push her closer to the center of the pool, increasing the difficulty while banging her faster.

"Put that big finger in my ass," Eunbi demands as she has yet to adjust to underwater penetration, trying to heat herself up. It turns out it works perfectly. As soon as you spread her cheeks and put your middle finger up in her anus, her initial pain goes away. Your left hand now grabs her right boob alongside her right hand, while your right hand stays underwater, poking her tiny asshole. "Nice boy sticking your finger in my tight ass, ahhhh. Oh God, your cock is so huge." Eunbi was feeling it as you pounded her with your erect 7-inch, her tits now fully underwater as she was just enjoying you doing all the work.

You pulled out of Eunbi but kept your finger stuck deep in her asshole, sensing that she enjoyed it a lot. Eunbi submerged her head halfway underwater as you lifted her right leg for an easier entrance in her pussy, holding the entire weight of her body in your cock and her left leg that barely touched the floor. Eunbi had to remerge as soon as you inserted your prick back in her cunt, grabbing her right thigh, now fully lifted in the air. She found that position to be much more enjoyable, giving you the loudest and hardest moans she could. You groped her left tit hard while letting the other one freely bounce, kissing her while doing so.

Eunbi was now essentially floating as the pounding got harder. You fingered her pussy, leading to faster and more acure moans that got even better once you stuck a pair of fingers inside it alongside your cock. Eunbi was now very weak as her body started to drown, her big tits dropping almost at your navel. You pushed her up, never taking your cock out of her pussy, giving her a pair of long and deep thursts to help her move up. Eunbi, however, was really enjoying it, as she ducked her head underwater shortly after to watch your cock beautifully pump her pussy, even if her huge tits were blocking most of the view and the mauling you were giving her meant she couldn't last long without going back up.

Eunbi took your cock out of her fuckhole and dove her body fully underwater, grabbing your dick by her right hand while upside down, starting a blowjow under the water that quickly evolved into a 69. Bubbles came out of her tightened mouth every time she pushed your cock up. The heat you put in her pussy and the pounding she had just taken were too much, as she lasted for just 30 seconds before going back up. You pushed yourself to the border and caught her by surprise, already inserting your cock back in, before she adjusted for a better angle, pounding her in reverse with your right hand, making fast moves around her clit while her boobs freely jiggled at each thurst you gave her. Eunbi bent over a little, as you now grabbed her by the shoulder, and she played with the water, putting her mouth just at the pool's level to release bubbles on it.

"Damn, that big cock is stretching me so good," Eunbi said as you now locked her hands on her back, pushing her up and letting the little waves of the pool hit right between her tits, who were bouncing so hard she had to grab them with both hands to keep them contained, before realizing it was futile as the harder you pumped her cunt, the more out of control those melons would get. You were the only one who could keep them in control every time you placed your hands in those magnificent Eunbigs to grope them.

You bent your knees just enough so Eunbi's body could be fully underwater, increasing the pace of the pounding while doing so. You now wrap your hands around Eunbi's soft but toned belly, touching it, and wonder what it would look like with a baby inside. You were engaged but had never felt such an urge to have kids with your fiancé, as you would rather wait to consummate your marriage first, but as she recovered from the jet leg at your dorm, you were having thoughts of impregnating someone else. Eunbi was getting completely ragdolled underwater as your left hand wrapped around her tits while you had all your right-hand fingers except the thumb inside her cunt, which was now wetter than the water itself.

You sat on the pool's floor as you grabbed Eunbi's body, thursting upwards like a piston in a car motor, but hitting Eunbi's "valve" every single time as you could only hear her moaning through bubbles popping out of the water every time your cock reached her cervix. Eunbi's juices coated all over your cock as you kept poking her pussy with your fingers, holding her tits as she started having an underwater orgasm. You pushed her head up to hear her fast and loud moans, increasing the speed of your hands in her clit, before pulling out and using her tits as a "washer" for her juices (not like you needed it), putting Eunbi on her knees as you slid your cock between her juicy melons.

Eunbi ducked her head underwater to lick your tip every time your shaft reached the top of her chest. You watched everything from above, in awe at her beautiful silhouete that made her look like a statuesque black-haired mermaid. Eunbi was so deep in the pool that her hair was below your navel once she took your cock fully in her mouth before finally needing to get somewhere. She turned around and swam away from you, moving back to the border of the pool and reaching the three steps that were there. Her tits rested on the upper step while she placed her hands on the middle one and got her knees in the deepest one, bending her ass over to you.

You gave Eunbi's little trimmed bush a tap as you put your cock back in her pussy. Gosh, she looked amazing on all fours, perfect to get pounded balls deep like a submissive toy. And you did just like that, smashing your balls against her meaty clit from the start. Eunbi was back at her strongest now and could take it with ease despite having her head underwater. You wish you could hear any words coming from her sexy mouth, but every time she bubbled under the water, you just assumed she wanted you to go harder.

"Bury that big dick deep inside me." Eunbi emerged, saying those words and proving you correct. You leaned your weight against her body, making her scream at each thrust, always giving a good amount of attention to her milkers. "Perfect, keep going; hit me just like that," Eunbi approved as she dived back in to watch your cock stretching her cunt out, letting out a big smile you weren't able to see. You went rougher, mounting on Eunbi as your cock pounded her just at water level, making big splashes and waves every time you went in and out of her pussy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," was all Eunbi could say as the water waves hit her clit at full speed alongside your cock. Eunbi fingered her cunt as your balls hit her nails, her tits sagging as gravity pushed them down underwater while her erected nipples perfectly pointed to the floor. Eunbi descended to watch the scene underwater, holding herself just by her left arm as you grabbed her right tit with the same hand, then freeing herself to watch her melons bounce right on her face, beding her whole body in a full arch.

"Holy shit you're so flexible. How did you manage not to fall while I was fucking you?" You were amazed by Eunbi's skills. "Well, I've been a dancer since I was a teenager. And just like a mermaid, I can sing too, even Underwater" she said. "I've been here for nearly half an hour and didn't even ask your name," you said. "Eunbi. Kwon Eunbi," she replied. "Are you from Hawaii?" you continued. "No, I come from Korea," she answered back.

As you too chatted a little and discovered more about Eunbi's career, you learned how she started as a backup dancer who climbed all the way up the ladder, joined a group called "Eyes One," and now has become a solo act in Korea. Her story was quite compelling to you, but her hands massaging your cock were even more so. Just like she did during her career, Eunbi climbed up the pool's steps, this time ready to sit on your big cock, sliding it in with ease as she gave you a passionate kiss and you grabbed her ass.

But you want to test Eunbi's recently discovered dancer flexibility and see if she was truly a mermaid like she claimed to be by pushing her back into the water. She reacts instinctively, placing her left hand at the border and her right foot at the step, while her left foot lands at your shoulder as it lifts in the air. "I know you can float, my little mermaid; let's also see how high you can moan—I mean, sing," you tell her. Eunbi is a little scared but starts to detach from her supports, floating in the water as you stare at her eyes and put your left hand in her waist and your right hand in her boobs.

Eunbi is up to the challenge, even the hardest. It's in her personality. After being the second mother to 11 children, this is easy for her. She takes a deep breath and dives her entire body underwater, leaving just her legs up as you hold her by the waist. After all, she had been training for years to be a diver. Eunbi covers the sun from reaching her eyes with her beautiful black hair. You start pounding her in missionary as she lets out a massive moan that shakes the whole water surrounding you. Eunbi gets to the bottom of the pool, placing her hands at her clit as she lets your thursts press her against the floor, every moan now leading to massive bubbles coming out of her mouth.

It turns out that this is much more difficult for you than it is for her. Your grip on her body is way loosier than at the other positions, leading your cock to slip out a couple times. You grab Eunbi's thighs as she gives you a helping hand to insert your cock back in. Eunbi just watched as you pushed her body closer to her while her jiggly boobs continued to bounce even all the way deep in the trenches of the pool. Eunbi now had her head fully rested as she took a huge pounding. You stared at her fit belly and massive tits, imagining what they would look like with her carrying a baby.

Eunbi finally ran out of air but still managed to be strong enough to not let your cock slip out as she emerged, taking control as you sat on the middle step and she started to ride you. Eunbi made splashes in your cock at each bounce while you searched for her asshole to finger once more. A helicopter flew over your heads, making a lot of noise, but you barely paid attention to it as Eunbi mermaid-esque singing moans were much more attractive. She then switched sides, riding you in reverse as she held her hands on your chest while hers couldn't stop bouncing. Eunbi then let you take control as she lied her tiny body on top of you, letting you splash her clit each time you thursted up into her pussy.

"Harder," Eunbi said just this word. It was enough for you to understand as you groped her tits and pumped her with all your might. Your thrusts were now so hard that they were splashing water all over Eunbi's hips and even her belly. Her tits got spanked, fondled, slapped, and pressed as you used your whole arsenal of moves to please Eunbi's best assets.

"Let's get some sunlight." Sensing you two had stayed long enough underwater, Eunbi looked for something else, heading towards the same chair from which she had started the day tanning herself. Eunbi got herself in all fours, screaming as soon as your tip touched her sensitive walls. The exposure to the sun seemed to have unlocked many more powers in your mermaid, as while her pussy was much easier to penetrate now, it also got much tighter. Eunbi invited you to fuck her as hard as you could, firmly grabbing her butt as you went full force deep into her pussy.

You rewarded Eunbi for her tightness as you let her taste the juice from your cock. Her shark-biting blowjob was still present above the water, as her mouth was warmer than ever. You couldn't resist her warmth and went on to fuck her face, grabbing her by her wet hair before she took a few turns sucking your balls. You kept Eunbi in the same position as your cock felt like it was about to explode each time you got to the depths of her pussy. You pushed her body a little upwards to let her boobs bounce harder.

"Oh, that's good. Give that big cock to me, deep inside my pussy," she whispered to you, holding your right hand as it grabbed her ass. You couldn't see much of it underwater, but now you had a full view of how meaty her pussy lips were. "Put that magic finger up my ass; please my ass as you fuck my pussy harder," Eunbi demanded as you inserted your large thumb in her tight anus. "Harder, harder, harder," a whispering out of breath Eunbi said, twisting around the chair as her boobs got grabbed.

"Please cum all over my face," she said. Mermaids truly could predict the future, given that as soon as you said those words, a rush hit your cock, forcing you to pull out quickly to meet her demands. "Give me your face," you said as your seeds hit Eunbi's cheeks and lips, with some even going to her hair or being wasted on the floor. Your cock still released a few drops of cum long after the first burst, almost as if Eunbi's pussy had given it a massive boost.

"Turn around," you demanded of Eunbi, letting her tits now face you. Despite just cumming, you looked more insatiable than ever, grabbing Eunbi's right leg and lifting it up as your left hand rested in her belly. Your desire to put a baby on it had reached its maximum, making you forget any thoughts about your fiancé. You only wanted Eunbi. But just like her, you had to climb a long ladder. "I know you still got some cum in there, baby. Next, I want you to cover my tits," Eunbi demanded, griding her teeth as you looked at her face full of your dried-up sperm.

"Deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper," she kept repeating in an almost militaristic manner. You wanted to disobey her orders and just finish inside her, but you knew she wasn't an ordinary woman and you would be in trouble the moment you didn't follow her instructions. "GIVE ME ALL THAT COCK, OH GOD!" Eunbi screamed, sensing your second shot was just moments away. "Make me cum; make my pussy explode all over your cock. Make my pussy cum, AHHHHH," Eunbi kept asking as you pressed her fully lifted right leg into her nipples. You were hitting her best spots, and her pussy was indeed about to explode. "Right there, right there," she kept repeating, telling you where to hit the correct spots.

"Can you feel that pussy squeezing all over your cock? Push it all the way in. Earn it." Eunbi wanted you to prove to her that you were among the best. You started getting out of breath, feeling as if Eunbi's pussy wrapping your cock for nearly an hour had drained half the years of your life. But Eunbi just wanted you to keep pushing, worried at the prospect of Minju arriving at any moment and finding her in such a position as she was expected to come in around 15 minutes.

You closed Eunbi's legs and pushed your cock from behind, fixating your thoughts on the jiggles of her tits. You were almost there. "God, you're growing; your cock is getting bigger." Eunbi wasn't lying, as her mermaid powers had turned your 7-inch into a 9-inch the longer she went under the sun. "Make me cum," she was the one saying it, but you were the one who was ready to unload, as Eunbi dropped her back at the chair, giving you an amazing full-body view that was too much for you to handle: her wet hair, her cum-covered face, her massive milkers and big areolas, her round belly, her little bush, and her bikini marks.

Eunbi sat and put her tits at your shooting range, grabbing them so gravity couldn't drop them down. "Come on, give it to me," she demanded as you groaned, ready to shoot. Her left boob got most of the milk, with even a bit slipping into her side tattoo, while the right one only got a few sparks. Eunbi grabbed her cum-covered melons, licking your white protein from her left tit. She got back on all fours and then ordered, as soon as she got your cock back into a full erection with just a single, powerful mermaid deepthroat, "Stick that big dick deep up that cunt until you cum.".

You couldn't even last 10 seconds this time. Eunbi's pussy clenched your cock so hard you painted her walls with semen in a snap. Never had you felt such a powerful ejaculation; your foreskin burned, your glans were so hyperextended it felt like they would explode at any second, the veins of your shaft bled, and you felt like she would never let you pull out, as her walls bit you like a shark to a point you felt like they would slice your dick in half. When you finally managed to, your once powerful 9-inch dick had been pulverized and athopied into a soft and sorry excuse of a cock.

"I guess we meet again later," you said, trying to hide the embarrassment you felt of your short dick that had been fully drained by that little powerful mermaid. As you disappeared out of Eunbi's sights, a beautiful, foxy girl arrived. Eunbi greeted Minju, who responded with a kiss on her cheek, right at the point where you had ejaculated on her. "Unnie, I think there is some white cream on your face," Minju said. "My bad, Minju, I had forgotten I had just taken more sunscreen," Eunbi lied.

For you, there was no next time. By the time you returned to the hotel's public area, Eunbi was gone. Maybe she dove back into the cold and deep waters of the Pacific Ocean and went back to her mermaid life. But you were never the same. The vacation you made to propose to your fiancé became about a tiny girl with big tits who was the only thing you could think about. Every time you looked at the hotel's pool, flashes of Eunbi invaded your head.

You reluctantly proposed to your fiancé in Hawaii, but as you arrived home, you had already taken an U-turn, as she spotted you booking tickets to Korea by yourself without telling her. "Why are you going to Korea? We just had our vacation," she asked.

"I think we should take a break," you said, packing your begs and heading to Korea, enchanted by the serenades of a little mermaid.

I decided to do this one as a gift, off-schedule smut. I have been thinking of doing a smut of Eunbi in Hawaii since the moment she announced her vacation with Minju, but wasn't finding the plot. The moment I saw her in that bikini, it finally came to my mind. Although @thelibrarian69 beat me to it and did a smut using the same pool scenario just a couple days ago, I think our smuts are fundamentally different, as I tried to put more emphasis on the underwater sex stuff and the characterization of Eunbi as a mermaid, while also adding references to her career. Since "Underwater" is literally Eunbi's signature song, no one better than her to be the protagonist of a smut that mostly takes place underwater.

#eunbi smut #kwon eunbi smut #izone smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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ethereal-night-fairy · 4 months

Text

This idea just came into my head about poly 141 pining after reader during the Christmas time. Imagine the reader is friends with everyone from the tf 141 possibly a part of the 141. But their extremely slow when it comes to people flirting with them. So they have absolutely no idea the boys are so infatuated.

You hang with each member or possibly multiple of them all the time. They're your teammates after all. You go to bars and café with them on your downtime or just cute outings not thinking much of it. You're all friends right? Sure the boys can me a bit touchy and flirty but they're like that with each other too so you don't think much of it.

You enjoy hanging out with Gaz and Soap especially now that it's winter. They treat you to hot chocolate on a cold frosty days arms linked as you walk through a snow covered parks. They're so sweet and attentive. Soap checking your tongue when you burn it on the hot chocolatey goodness. Gaz being a sweetheart and grabbing some snow to put in your mouth to alleviate the pain.

You love getting competitive with Simon and Price. Especially when you guys play pool together at the bar. They take turns teaching you how to play because you suck and like to sulk when you lose. You think they secretly like teasing you though.

They probably get too close and personal fixing your position. Not that you notice but they do. It's becomes a competition to see who can get away with the most without you noticing. It's not hard, because again you're very slow to pick up on these things. It's just fun and games anyways, well that's what you think. They often make bets with each other, forcing the loser to give a kiss to the winner. And coincidentally the loser is always you.

Price and you decide to cook Christmas dinner for the boys this year. You see them walking into the kitchen from time to time just to tease you about your festive apron. Making it a point to call you their wife/husband as you cook for them. As the evening goes on your all drinking and having fun. The guys are trying desperately to get you interested in them romantically but you're just not getting it. You think you're just hanging out and having fun with them. The intimate touches and flirty jokes are not registering in your mind because the guys do it to each other all the time. You haven't realised they're in a ploycule as of yet so you're completely oblivious to their advances. You watch them compete with each other to see who can get the most kisses from you under the mistletoe. But you think it's a competition to get the most kisses overall. The winner gets to confess to you first, but you don't know that.

Here's the second part to this - Mistletoe Kisses

Here's the third part to this - Mistletoe Kisses

Sleepy - pre poly ask

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marvelsswansong · 2 years

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you made me hate this city

summary: It was just a stupid bet. A way to prove Jason and his asshole friends wrong, to finally get under the blonde's skin. It was never supposed to end with Eddie falling in love, nor with him laying on your doorstep with bruised knees, begging for your forgiveness.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, ice queen/social outcast reader, Hopper!reader (goddaughter), reader is 18+ (impli. twenties), fluff, humor, angst, happy ending tho ofc

☆ word count: 17K+ (i stg it's worth it) ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Winters in Hawkins were unbearable.

Eddie's fingers - dry skin cracking by his knuckles, pink lines marred by green veins poking out of his skin - shakily held up the lit joint to his chapped lips, allowing him to inhale deeply and let out a slow drag of smoke. Much like his muted breaths, the white whisps of air curled upwards in lazy swirls before dissipating into the night air, providing a momentary release from the cold.

The freezing temperatures embraced Eddie just as quickly afterwards, making him grumble in discomfort, swearing under his breath for how long Jason and his group of friends were taking to finish the damn basketball game. The heat provided from his van was rather weak - the heater having blown a fuse a week ago which he had yet to fix - and his jean jacket did little to provide any additional warmth as he grasped the lapels of the jacket and pulled it closer towards his body.

God, where were those assholes?

As if fate had been listening to his internal monologue, Eddie soon heard the crunching of snow beneath several pairs of feet accompanied by the recognizable rowdy chatter between the basketball players. Leading the group as usual was Jason Carver - the blonde's signature smug expression replaced by one of annoyance - followed by his two best friends, a brunette and a redhead who were practical carbon copies of each other (muscular airheads with big egos and loud voices). Not that Eddie could really distinguish between the basketball players at Hawkins High. They all tended to come from the same pool of people.

Tall, fit, conventionally attractive, white males from cushy upper class backgrounds.

Unfortunately, that also meant jocks were one of his most profitable clients. Hence why Eddie had dragged his van and stash of goods half-way across town during winter break in the freezing cold. Having waited a staggering twenty minutes with nothing more than a jean jacket to keep him company, he was simply looking forward to finalizing the deal and to be able to drive back home to fall underneath the covers.

"You got the goods, freak?" Nate, the tall brunette, yelled out in advance, clapping his meaty hands together. Eddie had to actively suppress an eyeroll - no matter how many times he regularly dealt with them, they'd never even gone so far as to call him by his real name. Wordlessly kicking open the back of his van, he pulled off the green tarp overlaying the interior to reveal a hefty amount of weed, neatly packaged in plastic containers and paper bags.

"What'd you want?" the metalhead asked, voice monotone and face straight - completely immune to their presence at this point. The transaction was, after all, a regular routine at this point so as to make Eddie's reactions automatic and reflexive. He just wanted to get this over with as quickly as he could.

The basketball player standing next to Nate, a slim redhead named Oliver, cut into the conversation whilst brushing falling snowflakes off of his varsity jacket with a frown.

"Give us everything, son of satan."

"Everything?" Eddie raised his eyebrows, unable to hide his surprise. Jason only clicked his tongue at that, left hand coming up to swiftly comb through his hair - the blonde was on edge, that was as clear as daylight to see.

"Yeah, jackass, just give us what you got. I'm throwing a massive party and my parents are in California for another two weeks so I need all you got."

"That'll be $1,500." Eddie slowly said, eyeing the blonde up and down, expecting the man to pull out of the deal at any moment. Instead, the jock only let out an exasperated sigh, dropping his duffel bag to the floor before digging out a wad of cash.

"That's a shit ton of money you're blowing on weed, Carver." Oliver commented, slapping his friend's shoulder.

"Not enough money to impress (Y/n) though, apparently." Nate added from the side, causing both him and Oliver to crack up at the expense of a fuming Jason, the blonde's fists clenching tightly by his sides.

"Fuck off, would you?" the blonde shrugged his friend's arm off of his shoulders quickly, eyes burning with annoyance and betrayal. Eddie knew he wasn't supposed to be listening in on their conversation, his brown eyes still focused on the stack of notes in his hands as his fingers combed through each bill one by one. But his ears perked up at the mention of your name and he couldn't help but listen in closer as Jason's teammates laughed even harder at their leader's expression of fury.

"I'm telling you. Your daddy's money and status may get you everything you want, but not even you can win over the ice queen of Hawkins High." Nate drawled, with Oliver nodding eagerly behind him.

Jason only rolled his shoulders forward at that, unclenching his jaw with a frustrated sigh.

"Well how the fuck was I supposed to know that she was going to throw her drink on me and call me a 'blonde bimbo in ugly basketball shorts' just cause I asked her out?"

The chuckle that escaped from Eddie's lips was dangerous, but he couldn't help but let out a short laugh at the recollection of your comment, subjecting himself immediately to the harsh gazes of the three jocks. Jason in particular looked offended at that, cracking his knuckles and flashing the metalhead a stinging glare.

"You think that's funny, Munson?"

Counting up to the last thousand - damn, Jason really had handed him $1,500 on the dot - Eddie looked up at Jason with a sly smile, shaking his head lightly side to side.

"Meh, just a little. Doesn't matter though. You got the cash, I got the weed." he replied before stepping to the side, signaling for Nate and Oliver to begin shoving the packets of weed into their duffel bags. Whilst they did so, Jason slowly walked forward towards Eddie, an egotistical swagger to his steps.

"What? You think you can do better, freak?

"Asking girls out? Eh, maybe." Eddie decided to goad the blonde further, enjoying the delicious cruelty of being able to toy with the fragile ego of the star basketball player. Watching how Jason's neck strained at that comment, adam's apple bopping up and down.

Suddenly, the angry expression on Jason's face melted away into a wide grin, a new delightful idea seemingly having popped into his mind.

"Tell you what, freak. Let's wager a bet." Jason's tongue dragged across his lower lips slowly, his eyes were glinting with a certain kind of danger Eddie couldn't quite place. "You think you're such tough shit, that you're so much better than me - why don't you go after (Y/n)? If you can somehow get the infamous ice queen to say yes to a date, you win."

"And what exactly would I win?"

"I'll pay double the usual for all our dealings. Heard through the grapevine your shitty trailer home's overdue for a fix, no?"

Oliver and Nate cackled behind Jason at that comment, igniting fiery hatred in the metalhead's veins. Jaw feeling stiff, he forced himself to sit up straight, staring right back at the jocks.

"... That, and you leave me and my friends alone for the rest of the year."

"For that price, you'll have to have her say yes to prom too!" Oliver yelled out from the side, to which Jason nodded.

"Get her to say yes to dates and then prom, and then we'll say you win. I pay double, you can fix your shitty dump you call a house, and we'll stop bothering you and your band of freaks. Deal?"

It was no different to staring the devil in the face, devious and cruel smirk matched with voice dripping with venom as the blonde extended one hand forward. Eddie stared at it for a few seconds, contemplating his decisions: his uncle had tried to be sly about money problems but winter was only getting colder, and now that he had Dustin, Lucas and Mike in the group, he did want the bullying to stop against his group.

Swallowing his doubts, Eddie quickly shook Jason's hand, never once breaking eye contact.

"Deal."

-------------------------------------

First week back from winter break.

Eddie has been agonizing over how to even approach you. He's only spoken to you once before.

Actually, that may be an overstatement, he thinks, now looking back.

Eddie was being blocked from accessing his locker as a group of cheerleaders gossiped in the hallways, each of them blatantly ignoring Eddie's quiet pleas for them to move. When he coughed loudly and tried to wiggle through the crowd, the two head cheerleaders by the front shot him a nasty glare, the blonde one even going so far as to look him up and down and smirk.

"Thought I smelled trailer trash. Piss off, freak."

"I'm just trying to get to my locker, Joanne." he'd deadpanned - normally, he would've just walked away by now but he really needed to get to his fucking locker for that damn history textbook.

"Well we're too busy catching up about the rager Dianne went to last week in Idaho, so you can wait, okay?" the other head cheerleader, a petite raven haired girl named Sandra, snapped. That elicited a crowd of giggles to erupt amongst the group, and Eddie sighed again, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

"Look-"

"Didn't know this was the hangout spot for superficial barbies skipping their geometry classes." you sneered, coy smirk dancing on your glossy lips. The group of girls instantly froze at the sound of your voice, causing even the two head cheerleaders by Eddie to straighten up in fear.

"What'd you want, (L/n)?" Joanne stuttered out, the low pink flush in her cheeks clearly marking her embarrassment and fear. Eddie watched in awe as you simply stared the cheerleader down, dissecting the girl's layers with one glare and a low chuckle under your breath.

"For you and your fake friends to leave, obviously. What, too dumb to even figure that out?"

"Y-you can't make us leave! You have no authority to command so." Sandra blurted out, eyes darting away to the floor when you redirected your fiery gaze at her. Eddie had to admit, you were kind of terrifying - sharp eyes drawn forward, head held high, fingers gripping tightly onto the straps of your backpack.

"Is that so?" you questioned, stepping one step closer to the crowd of cheerleaders, all of whom instinctively backed up against the wall. Pink tongue tracing your lower lips, you cocked your head to the side in feigned interest. "I guess you only ever listen to the authority of Joanne's boyfriend, huh, Sandra? When he's leaving hickies on your neck and blowing off dinners with Joanne for you?"

"You did what?!" Joanne screamed out in anger at her best friend, causing Sandra to begin running in the opposite direction. Sensing a battle brewing between their two leaders, the rest of the cheerleaders deserted the hallway, leaving you and Eddie alone in the aftermath. You rolled your eyes, shoving away the last cheerleader evacuating the scene before Eddie's left hand reached out to grab your wrist.

"W-wait." he stuttered out, hesitant. You looked down at his hand with a cold glare, before staring back up at him in annoyance.

"What."

"Thank you for standing up for me. I mean, no one's ever talked back to the popular kids for me before. It's really cool of you." he rambled, hands fidgeting by his neck, not being able to quite meet your gaze upon feeling chills run down his spine at your icy demeanor. Your only response to his comment was to aggressively shake off his hand, recoiling from his touch as if you'd been burnt.

"I wasn't doing any of that for you, Munson. They were in the way to my Chemistry class."

Turning on your heel, you disappeared into the foreground before Eddie could muster up a response.

The rumors were true, he realized. You were exceptionally beautiful - it was no wonder that you were rumored to be scouted by the cheerleaders by third period on your first day (had you not literally dumped an iced coffee over their leader when she'd approached you during lunch). Even when you were snarling at him, arms crossed in a defensive posture and chilling orbs glaring daggers into his eyes, he couldn't help but feel warmth rise to his cheeks from being able to gaze at your face up close.

But Eddie wasn't able to focus on your features much - the dip of your neck leading down to the valley of your breasts, your glossy lips and bright eyes, jaw and cheeks carved by the harsh sunlight - when you'd snapped at him and turned the other way.

Staring down at his now empty hands, he shrugged. You were indeed, an ice queen.

Cut to the present, Eddie's hiding behind the door of his own locker, peeking out at the hallway every few seconds to watch you shuffle through your own belongings. Headphones around your ears, Walkman tape bouncing alongside your side as you pull down a stack of books from the top shelf, your skirt rides up ever so slightly to bunch at your waist.

To any passing stranger, you may even look sweet at the moment - soft body hugged by the green fabric, knee high socks, lipstick cautiously being applied by the small mirror taped to your locker door.

But Eddie knows better. The whole school knows better, with the way everyone makes a point to avoid you. Cheerleaders stop walking and turn the other way, the jocks avoid your gaze and keep as long of a distance from you, and even the nerds and band geeks make sure to walk with their head down and mind their steps to not bump into you.

"What are you looking at?" Dustin suddenly jumps in, face few inches from Eddie, causing the older boy to straighten up in surprise and hit his head against the wall. Clutching his head where it's beginning to bruise, he makes it a point to glare at the curly haired freshman, who only flashes him an innocent smile.

"Ouch, what the hell, Henderson?" Eddie grumbles.

"You got that 'I'm lost in my thoughts' look on your face. And I was just curious as to what could be so interesting to have you staring off into space."

"It's nothing." Eddie quickly blurts out, practically slamming his locker shut and leaning against it with a faux grin, cool relaxed posture with his arms crossed. Dustin doesn't buy that, only frowning in disbelief, before leaning to the side to peek towards where Eddie was staring.

The only person really visible is you, thumbing through your notebooks, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Holy shit, were you... staring at (Y/n) (L/n)?" Dustin semi-shouts out of shock, forcing Eddie to practically grab the younger boy by the front of his t-shirt and yank him backwards, narrowly avoiding the curious look you throw behind your back upon hearing your name be shouted out.

"Keep your damn voice down, geez." Eddie swears, heart thrumming with anxiety. Dustin's face only quirks up in semi-annoyance, his left hand coming up to slap across the senior's chest.

"Why were you staring at her?"

"I was not staring at her." Eddie weakly responds. It's a total lie and they both know it, with Eddie unable to even look Dustin straight in the face.

"Listen, I know you're crazy and your whole thing is going against the grain - which I think is awesome, don't get me wrong. But getting involved with her? That's a death wish, man. She's fucking scary." Dustin shudders, shaking off faux chills as you slam your locker shut and shove past a group of cowering teens, not even sparing them a second glance.

Cursing internally, the metalhead swallows his comments and forces out a grin.

"Relax, man. I'm not getting involved with anyone."

----------------------------------

Eddie finally gets the courage to talk to you on a rainy Friday afternoon. The parking lot's deserted and the sky's a murky gray, harsh showers slapping against dulled windows fogged up from the cold.

Tucking his roleplaying notebook underneath his left arm, carefree smile on his face from the fantastic D&D session he's just had, he almost walks past where you're leaning against the wall without acknowledging that you're alone.

You're so good at that, Eddie realizes: blending into the background, simultaneously being so eye-catching and beautiful to catch his attention, whilst also exuding an uninviting aura that makes his brain immediately divert his gaze elsewhere.

Tapping your converse shoes against the cement floor, your head is drawn downwards with your eyes narrowly focused in on a hardcover book Eddie can't read the name of. The entire hallway's deserted and Eddie realizes that now's the best time - more than ever - to make his first move.

"Hey. (Y/n), right?" he starts out, waving for your attention and flashing you his most charming smile. It doesn't even leave a dent on your face: lips still in a straight line, your head not even picking up to stare at him.

"What do you want?" you drawl out, flipping a page with your thumb. He fumbles on what to say next, not used to having to speak to someone who won't even look at him - at the very least, he thinks, when jocks are jeering at him or cheerleaders are insulting him, they flash him a dirty glance.

"Tutoring." is the first thing that leaves his lips and that does the job of causing you to still and look up at him with your eyebrows raised, mocking grin on your face.

"Tutoring? You do know that I'm barely passing all my classes, right?" you spit out, unimpressed. Stranded, Eddie's hands fly up in mock surrender, voice edged with nerves as he forces out a laugh.

"Yeah uh, no, I meant like... I could tutor you."

You chuckle at that - a dry, bitter sound that makes him cringe - perfectly manicured fingers curling to point accusingly at his figure.

"You, Eddie Munson, repeat senior - tutoring me? Yeah right. Fuck off, won't you?"

Licking his lips, Eddie takes in a deep breath, ready to try and persuade you again when the loud honking of a car cuts in. Looking over your shoulder, he can see the faint outline of a truck and a man sitting by the front of the driver's seat, shouting your name. He can't make out much about the man's features - the glass windows fogged up and obscured by the pouring rain - and you brush past Eddie with ease, shoulders colliding with his.

"Well that went well." Eddie sarcastically comments under his breath.

Maybe this bet isn't going to work out, he bitterly thinks, kicking a small pebble in his way.

Then it's Monday. And thank god for Ms. Rogers of his American History class - because she announces a new group project, and the pairings just so work out to pair you and him together. Eddie has to conceal the rush of joy and relief when he sees his name hastily scrawled next to yours on the whiteboard, keeping his face straight and outwardly disinterested when he sits down next to you.

"Hey there, partner." he jokes, sliding his chair closer to the table. Your gaze remains fixated on your nails, your only acknowledgment of his presence being the rolling of your eyes. "How's life?"

"Life is life, Munson." you spit, harsh gaze shifting a fraction to cast him a dirty glance. It makes him feel small, goosebumps rising across his skin from the way your lip snarls and your voice tightens.

"Right, well, now that we're project partners we'll probably be seeing a lot of each other. Do you wanna meet up after school to discuss the basics?" Eddie trails off slowly, cautiously trying to survey your reactions.

He's silently bracing for another cruel remark - or maybe a disinterested eyeroll, coupled with a middle finger to his face - but to his surprise, you huff out a quick sigh and unclench your jaw.

"Fine. The library at 3.30."

"Oh actually, I was wondering if we could do later because technically we're supposed to have a Hellfire campaign tonight-"

You hold one hand up to his face, forcing him to shut up, before throwing him an annoyed glance.

"Do I look like I care? Reschedule."

All other arguments die in his mouth when the teacher begins to talk, signaling for everyone in the class to fall silent and redirect their attention to the front of the classroom. Eddie shifts to look forward, but he can't help but quickly glance at you from the corner of his eyes.

You look agitated, teeth biting down on the end of a yellow pencil, grinding down onto hard wood. Shoulder tensed, body braced forward as you lean onto your propped up arms. Eddie realizes then that he's never seen you relaxed. Or seen you smile, or hell, be anything other than aggressive and tense.

The thoughts of the bet with Jason re-enter his mind, which he's quick to scrub away in an attempt to pay attention. Above all, he supposes, he'd like to at least pass this fucking class so he's not a fourth time repeat senior.

The end of the school day arrives in a flash, it seems, with him anxiously jumping up and down on the balls of his feet outside the library whilst waiting for you to appear. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he then feels a warm hand on his back, twisting around clumsily to see your non-amused expression staring back at him.

"Come on, Munson. I don't have all day."

The first half an hour is painfully awkward. Eddie keeps on throwing jokes - "if I have to read another passage about a dead white man, I think I'm going to die myself" - and thoughtful compliments - "that's a really good idea, (Y/n), thank god we were paired together or else I would've failed" - but you don't seem the least bit deterred. Sitting at least five inches away from him, shoulders hunched over as your gaze remains fixated on the stack of papers strewn over the table surface. There's a permanent frown on your face, pulling down and wrinkling your features, coupled with an unwavering silence.

Eddie wonders what it'd be like if you smiled instead.

"So what do you think? I reckon pretty much everyone's going to do the easy topics - the ratification of the constitution or the fight for independence. So maybe it'd be better if we did something different, like maybe how the two party system emerged?" Eddie suggests lightly, leaning back on his seat, flashing you a hopeful smile.

You don't even look up at him, shrugging your shoulders.

"Sure, whatever."

"If you think there's something else we could do, I'd love to hear it." He's practically begging you to speak at this point, considering he's been the one filling the silence in the room for the past half hour.

"Don't have any ideas."

"You sure?"

"YES! Jesus christ, Munson, are you deaf?" you snap, looking up at him angrily.

"Alright, god, I'm sorry that I'm trying to include you in OUR project." he retorts, feeling his patience run dry. "You know-" He lets out a dry laugh, running a hand through his hair. "I've been nothing but nice to you the past few weeks-"

"Why is that?" you press, voice suddenly quiet.

"W-what?"

His breath catches in his throat when you make full eye contact with him, yellow embers reflecting in your orbs from the light bulbs hanging overhead.

"I'm confused as to why you've been so nice to me lately, Munson. What's your end game?" you question, slamming your book shut. Eddie blinks at you silently like a fish out of water - what the hell is he supposed to say to that? It must look awfully odd from your point of view, he realizes, for you two to go from strangers to him trying to talk to you all the time.

But what's he supposed to say? "Jason Carver and I fought and we got into a bet that I could seduce you and bring you to prom because you're this notorious ice queen."

Yeah right.

Exhaling quickly, he just cocks his head to the side and feigns calmness.

"Maybe I just wanted to get to know you better."

"Me, seriously?" you scoff, clearly not believing him.

"Yeah! Look, I... I know what it's like for people at this shitty high school to not take you seriously or to make you feel like a complete outcast. I figured you could use a friend! Because no offense, I have the Hellfire Club, but I've never seen you with anyone but yourself."

He's being pretty sincere with that statement, and it seems to come through as you raise your eyebrows slowly in response, unreadable expression on your face.

"You've been... watching me?"

"Not in a creepy way! Just consider it, like, one outcast looking out for another."

It's the slightest change, a reflex that lasts for less than a second, but he catches the end of your lips twitch ever so slightly to indicate a grin. It disappears just as quickly it appears, but he catches it nonetheless, and it makes hope blossom in his lower abdomen.

"... Alright." you surrender, gaze slightly softer, voice no longer aggressive and defensive. It's impossible for him to conceal his joy at that.

"Really?"

"Yeah, Munson. I suppose I could be a bit nicer to you. But-" you poke him on the side with a spare pencil. "No promises. No pushing me into anything. We're hardly acquaintances, let alone friends. But I suppose if we need to work together on this stupid project together, we might as well get along. Okay?"

Eddie nearly pulls a muscle with how fast he nods in affirmation.

"Okay."

---------------------------------------

Tuesdays and Thursday evenings are from then on reserved for after school meet ups to work on the project. You're still characteristically you - full of mean comments, sassy eyerolls, judgmental gazes and all. But he does notice that as time goes on, you're snarling at him less and loosening up ever so slightly.

He's yet to seen you smile, however, though he's gotten close a couple of times. Like when he slipped on a banana peel whilst walking out the library with you last week or when yesterday, he made a dumb joke about a horrendous illustration of Thomas Jefferson in the textbook.

On a windy February afternoon, you two end up staying a bit later than expected. Eddie leaning against the wall, sitting on the carpeted floor with his legs crossed as he pours through five heavy leather bound books, you're hunched over a shitty desk lamp and a cup of coffee as you highlight passages from a textbook. Neither of you have cared to check the clock or have registered the fact that it's been a full two hours since the librarians notified you two that they're heading out.

"I think my brain's melting." he complains, slipping down the wall slowly in a dramatic fashion. You shoot him an amused glance, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth.

"Tough luck, devil boy. We've still got a lot more to read."

Eddie groans, rubbing his eyes with his metal ring clad fingers.

"I know, but it feels like we've been reading boring books in this stuffy room FOREVER now!"

The two of you pause at that, it suddenly dawning on both of you that the rest of the library seems oddly... dark. And quiet.

"Shit. What time is it?" you ask aloud, standing up so quickly that you topple your chair over. The nearest clock - hanging behind a row of oak bookshelves - indicates that it's nearly six thirty pm.

Far, far, later than anyone would be at school.

It's a scramble to dog-ear pages, organize the books in their relevant places and to shove all your belongings in to your respective bags before racing down the hallway to the front doors, which of course, are locked.

"Well, I guess we're gonna die here." Eddie remarks, dropping his hands from the front doors with a sigh. You slap him across the shoulder at that, though this time the action's more playful, more tongue in cheek.

"Relax, Munson. All we need is a phone, do you think the front office's phones still work?"

"Yeah. I would know, because they made a call to my uncle this morning to complain that I came in an hour late to first period."

"Classic Eddie." you comment, to which he visibly stiffens and stares down at you with awe. "What?" you press, confused at why he's suddenly looking at you like that.

"You said my name. Not Munson, not devil boy, not an insult."

To his quiet surprise, you seem to get embarrassed at that, eyes dropping to the floor as you shift nervously on your feet.

"I mean, that's your name, right? But if you prefer I call you like Munson instead I ca-"

"No, no." he lets out a gentle laugh, and a thought passes by your head like a bullet train that you really like it. It's soft, it's melodic, it's sweet: taste of sweet potatoes coated in cloud sugar on your tongue. "I really like hearing you say my name. Say it more."

Your lips quirk up again, signaling a potential smile, but it's not fully realized. But your shoulders do drop in a more relaxed manner, and you flash him an ambivalent glance.

"Sure."

After using a spare hairpin in Eddie's pocket to pick the lock to the front office, you jump over the counter to slide over the surface and reach the phone behind the desk. Eddie makes a joke about how you'd make an excellent spy - to which you throw him a dirty glare and signal for him to shut up - before you make a phone call. To whom, he doesn't know. But it's clear that you care for this person, as your voice becomes lower and less agitated.

"Hey. Yeah, sorry for worrying you. I was staying late with my project partner for American History and then... we lost track of the time and now we're locked in. Do you think you could come over and get us?" you pause, Eddie supposes it's to allow the person on the other line to respond. "Alright. Sounds good. See you soon."

"Who'd you call?" he quizzes, curious as he helps you slide off the desk, allowing you to grasp at his shoulders to jump off securely. He chooses to ignore the way his skin tingles with electricity when your soft hands grip at his skin, heat wrapping around his upper body.

"My godfather. But it'll probably take another half an hour for him to arrive so we should probably camp out by the front doors till then."

There's a good five minutes of uninhibited silence after that as you two sit by the front entrance. You're sitting across from him leaning against the lockers: one leg straight, the other propped up by your chest as you rest your arms on your knee and twist your body to look out the window. Eddie's sitting a few inches away from you, legs crossed, toying with the rings on his fingers.

It's not a tense silence, but it is boring.

"I didn't know you had a godfather." Eddie decides to say, looking up at you cautiously. "That's cool."

"Cool, huh?" you quip, tearing your gaze away from the window. "Not many people think that. Most people think it's fucking weird that I live with my godfather instead of my biological parents."

"Well most people are assholes and idiots. Don't listen to them." he argues, lacing his fingers together.

"That's true." you agree, nodding ambivalently. "What about you? You and your uncle? You two live by the trailer park, right?"

Neither of you delve into too much personal information - the conversation's restrained to surface level things, before somehow melting into a heated discussion over music. It turns out that you're a huge music fan, front pocket of your bag overflowing with cassettes, notebooks crumpled by the weight of your walkman and headphones.

"Listen, I can appreciate a good Billy Joel song and all, but Black Sabbath is god." Eddie insists, uncrossing his legs and gesturing frantically with his hands.

"Oh, please, Eddie! You're just saying that because your exposure to Billy Joel has primarily been Uptown Girl. He has some serious deep cuts, like you can't tell me that you're able to listen to Vienna without getting emotional."

"Hey, you can get PLENTY emotional to Black Sabbath."

"Really?" you quip, poking him in the shoulder, forcing him to fall back down on his heels. You're fully smiling at this point, eyes light and wide, lips outstretched into an actual grin. He really likes this sight, he thinks. The light even seems to hit you differently when you smile - carving shadows down your jaw, glittering light kissing your hairline, halo around your hair.

"Really. Pinky promise." Eddie argues, poking his pinkie finger out at you. You stare down at him, fully amused, shaking your head sideways at his antics.

"I'm not gonna pinky promise you shit." you mock, crossing your arm.

"Aw, come on." he leans in teasingly, backing you up against the lockers. He doesn't realize it, but your breath hitches in your throat at the action, as it hits you that he's so close that you can count the individual freckles adorning his cheeks and smell the mixed scents of pine, fresh rain and weed emanating from his jacket.

You both break away from your respective positions at the sound of the front doors unlocking, with a very unimpressed look on Hopper's face as he links back the keys to his belt and raises his eyebrows at you.

"Are you sure it was the project that made you late and not being with your boyfriend?" he drawls, forefinger outstretched to gesture between the two of you. You stand up so quickly you practically stumble forward, stuttering your words - you're so mortified, you can't even look at Eddie.

"Jesus, dad, NO! He's just a friend."

"Friend, huh?" Eddie teases, elbowing you on the side, to which you elbow him back harder (making him groan out in slight pain). He watches as the police chief's blue eyes narrow in on his figure, dissecting him with a single glance, before returning to stare at you. It registers in his mind that Hopper's eyes soften when they land on you, a small grin appearing on his aged face.

"Alright then. Good to see you've made friends, (Y/n)." he comments. You roll your eyes, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Speaking of which, Eddie needs to get going. Right?" you rush out, practically shoving Eddie forward. Eddie nods awkwardly, shooting the older man a (what he hopes is) charming smile before winking at you.

"Right. Thank you, sir, for saving us. (Y/n), I'll see you next Tuesday for the final bits of the project?"

"Yeah, see you."

The moment you hop into the front seat of Hopper's truck, you can practically feel the intensity of the the rush of thoughts in your godfather's mind, his heavy gaze alternating between the road and your anxious figure shifting against the leather seats.

"So... this Eddie. Your friend, huh?" he starts out, quiet.

"Just drive, Hop, jesus." you say out loud, leaning your head against the window, rubbing your temples in a soothing manner as if to cure a headache.

"Not commenting on it, sweetheart. Just saying it's nice to see you open up and make friends."

"A friend, dad. One. Singular." you correct, to which he just waves off your comment with a blow through his lips.

"Still. Maybe this'll help you adjust a bit better. You have been adjusting alright, right?"

He pulls over into the driveway of his house, hands lingering over the steering wheel as he glances over at you worryingly. Hopper's always been a protective godfather, never intrusive but often keeping a close watch on you from the background. You don't blame him for worrying, considering the whiplash of a turn your life's taken in the past few months.

Leaving your parents in New York, packing two bags of clothes before hitchhiking across the country to come all the way down to Hawkins to live with your godfather. Your 'real' parents are practically dead to you, hence why you've chosen to call Hopper 'dad', and you consider El to be your real life little sister.

You figure you're already asking so much of him: to take you in as his non-biological daughter, to provide you a place to sleep and eat, to pay for your schooling as you catch up on two years of high school you took off in New York. All of this, combined, has led you to be less than transparent about how you've been adjusting at your new school.

In fact, Hopper wouldn't even know anything about how you don't really have friends if it hadn't been for Mike and his big mouth, and El's sweet concerns being expressed to Hopper.

"I'm doing okay, dad. Seriously." you assure him, patting down on his hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

When your bedroom door finally closes behind you that night, it dawns on you as you're staring up at the ceiling - you've made a friend.

For the first time in a while, you fall asleep filled with joy and giddiness.

------------------------------------------

"Do you wanna come see my band play tonight?"

Eddie asks you on the final day of your project, closing your locker door for you, peering up at you with his doe like eyes. Your mind's been swimming with anxious thoughts all day - you're afraid that the only thing keeping your friendship afloat with Eddie is the project, which is due to be turned in today, and you're not sure what's going to happen once it's done.

So it's actually kind of a relief to have him beg you to see his band perform tonight, relief that you can't help but spill out into a small grin reflected on your lips.

"Corroded Coffin's playing tonight?"

"Yeah! And it's gonna be radical. Some of my other friends are gonna be attending too, so you won't have to show up alone."

"Aren't minors not allowed in seedy bars?" you tease. "Your friends are like, all freshman boys."

"Hey, I have friends that aren't Henderson or the other kids! Seriously, Steve and Robin are cool adults in their twenties and they will be there too."

"I don't think imaginary friends count." you continuously tease, walking away from him, as he follows right behind you.

"They're NOT imaginary! I swear, they're real people with real jobs and hobbies." Eddie pouts, looking like a kicked puppy. It's adorable, really, and you can't help but chuckle at his sad expression.

"Alright, alright, I'm joking! Sure, sounds good. When and where is it?"

"The downtown bar by the bookstore off the 45. Door's open at 7, but realistically we won't be playing till like 8.30 so feel free to come by then. I'll tell Steve and Robin to wait for you outside. They're cool, I promise."

You can't help but bite your bottom lip at that, anxiety gnawing at your chest.

"Are you sure? I just... I don't know if I'll get along with your friends, that's all. I mean, it took us like forever to be friends ourselves." you comment dryly.

"Pfft, you'll get along with them super well, don't worry! You're cool, they're cool, that's all you need."

All protests die in your mouth when he smiles at you like that, so you sigh and surrender to his demands.

"Alright, fine."

The bar's packed and loud, you think, flashes of yellow and red light emitting from the dingy entrance as you cross the road towards the establishment. There's already a line of people outside but there's two people in particular who stick out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd of black and edgy looks - a girl and a boy around your age, mid-playful argument.

The guy meets your gaze and then waves you over, soft smile on his lips. He's quite cute, you think - not your type, but there's an undeniable charm to him, wavy chestnut brown hair, soft features and slight muscle definition to his thighs and arms. The girl's grinning at you and she's also pretty, short brunette bob framing her lively face quite nicely.

They're also dressed more for the park than a metal concert, but you suppose you haven't done much better (throwing on just a t-shirt and jeans over a pair of sneakers).

"Hey! (Y/n), right?" Steve asks, as you nod in response, slightly intimidated at the presence of these new people.

You do vaguely remember Hopper mentioning a guy named Steve once over a phone call with Joyce, but other than that you don't know too much about him. But Steve seems really nice, welcoming you into the group instantly, gently pulling you towards the two of them and away from the rest of the hectic crowds.

"I'm Steve. Nice to meet you. And this is Robin, my best friend and eternal pain in the ass."

"Cap your ego, Harrington. Don't listen to him, besides, us girls have to stick together, right?" Robin quips, pulling you against her and winking at you. You can't help but giggle at that, what with the way Steve's face then scrunches up into a haughty frown.

It turns out that they're a delightful pair to be around. Robin's sarcastic, witty and funny, and her no-bullshit attitude and dry sense of humor pairs nicely with Steve's slightly egotistical, flirty and outgoing nature. And with a bit of alcohol dancing on the tip of your tongue, you find yourself loosening and completely comfortable by the time the band comes out to play.

The music is loud - so loud that it reverberates through your body, so loud that it feels like the whole building shakes with the booming of the speakers - but it's also delirious and addicting, jumping up and down in a sea of people to the ear-splitting music.

The three of you stay long past after the show's wrapped up, leaning against the counter of the open bar with dopey smiles on each of your faces.

"Holy shit, my dad's gonna be so mad that I'm this tipsy." you comment, leaning onto Robin's shoulders for support.

"Really?" she teases, amused.

"Seriously. And the fact that he's the police chief probably isn't going to do me much favours."

"Hopper's your father?" Steve asks, surprised. He remembers in the back of his mind Hopper mentioning that he's taken in another kid a while ago, but he hadn't pressed the older man for details.

"Godfather, actually, but he might as well be my dad. Considering I left my shitty biological parents in New York."

"To shitty parents." Robin announces, raising her glass of whiskey into the air. Steve and you clink your glasses with hers in agreement.

"To shitty parents."

"Looks like someone's had a lot of fun." Eddie comments from behind you the moment you down the shot, your head slow to catch up with his presence before it hits you all at once.

"Eddie!" you squeal out, dropping the glass onto the counter and spinning around to envelope him in a fierce hug. He's wholly unprepared to catch your embrace with the speed and force with which you wrap your arms around his waist, causing him to stumble backwards.

"You were amazing! Like seriously, your guitar solo was the best part of the whole night." you gush and Eddie's glad that the harsh lighting of the bar is able to mask the slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Aw, thanks. Did Steve and Robin treat you alright?" he asks, looking up at his friends.

"More than alright, we nearly stole your girl." Steve teases, to which Eddie only scowls, waving away his friend's suggestive teasing.

"Alright, Harrington, keep it in your pants."

Robin and Steve continue to smirk at Eddie, making exaggerated lovesick expressions and throwing kisses at the two of you, none of which you're catching because your head is still buried against Eddie's chest. Eddie has to subtly - but fiercely - tell his friends to cut it out, gesturing with his hands and throwing nasty glares their way.

"Fuck, I really need to sober up though." you mumble, straightening up, stumbling ever so slightly on your feet.

"Yeah, and I'm beat. Wanna split a cab, Buckley?"

"Sure do, Steve. See you two kids around." Robin slyly adds, quickly exiting right after Steve to leave you alone with Eddie. It's clear what they're trying to do, but Eddie can't really bring it to himself to care when you tug at his sleeves, still tipsy and tired.

"Can we drive out somewhere cold and empty? If I go home now, Hopper's gonna be real mad about my alcohol consumption. Even if I'm over 18, that man is... protective."

Eddie chuckles, nodding, brushing away a stray strand of hair from your eyes.

"Alright then. Guess we're driving to the park."

On the way out to his car, his left hand resting on your back as he guides you into the front seat, Eddie meets Jason's eyes from across the road. The jock is leaning against his car, nursing a beer bottle in his right hand, whilst his group of friends rustle and joke around with each other by the gas tanks.

An unshakable feeling of disgust rises up in Eddie's throat, heart clenching at the way the blonde's eyes shift down at you, then on to Eddie's hand on your back, and how then a semi-impressed grin spreads on Jason's lips. The blonde ever so slightly nods at Eddie, as if confirming their bet, before returning to his conversation with his friends.

"Eddie?" you call out his name, breaking him out of his trance. "Everything alright?"

He's being paranoid, he tells himself. He hasn't even done anything yet, if anything, he's nowhere near "winning" the bet - you're just friends, that's all this is, leading you back to the car and helping you sober up by a park.

"Yeah. All good." Eddie forces out, faux grin and all. There's an odd bitter taste filling his lungs, but he breathes out slowly, reminding himself that he's not doing anything bad.

He's just a friend, taking another friend, to the park.

Sitting on the swing set, his fingers trail down the linked metal chains, small smile on his face as you childishly swing back at forth with your legs kicking out in front of you. It's your way of sobering up, you insist, and he can't complain - it's clearly making you very happy, the smile on your face permanent. It's a nice sight, a rare sight, one that he's keeping tucked in to the crevices of his mind for later.

"Be careful." Eddie chastises, watching you soar higher and higher towards the night sky. "I don't want you to break a bone or something. Think Hopper would be even more if you break a bone than if you show up a bit drunk."

Slowing down your movements, you scoff, but there's still a lazy smile on your face indicating that you're not really mad.

"I hate it when you're right." you mumble, drawing a loud laugh from Eddie's lips, head thrown back and all.

"I'm always right, (L/n)." he challenges, knocking his swing into yours.

"Sure, Munson. Except the times you're not. Which is almost every time."

"Almost."

Silence settles over the two of you again, the creaking of metal as you both lazily swing back and forth being the only sounds in the night, pale moon marking the shift into midnight. Eddie's fiddling with his rings absentmindedly, not really sure what to say or why he suddenly feels nervous sitting next to you, until you pick your head back up and speak.

"Thanks."

"For what?" he's confused and surprised.

"For inviting me. For letting me meet Steve and Robin, you're right, they're really cool. And like, I don't know. Thanks for being my friend, I guess." you look down immediately after finishing your sentence, hot embarrassment coursing through your veins, Eddie's soft stare too much to bare all at once on top of your heartfelt confession. The confession that tugs at Eddie's heartstrings, guilt pouring over him in waves.

"Yeah, so-"

"It's just crazy to me, you know?" you interrupt. "That you'd want to be friends with me. That anyone would want to be friends with me. I know I was a bitch when we first spoke. And uh, maybe I still kind of am. But you just... you're different, Eddie."

You pause for a tender moment, legs spreading as you shift your swing closer towards his, so that your knees are brushing against his and you can place a warm hand down onto his lap.

"I feel like you really see me. Not this whole 'ice queen' bullshit or whatever people are saying at school. The real me, the person behind all the walls and defences raised up. You kept on trying to get to know me even when I was pushing you away and being cruel to you. And it was thanks to that that we ended up becoming friends. So... yeah. Thank you, Eddie. Sincerely."

It's hard to shake off the shame now coating his lips, his skin burning and feeling sticky underneath your pure, innocent gaze and soft touch. He forces a smile, fingers uncurling from the metal chains of the swing to pat down on your warm hand, trying his best to maintain the neutrality of his voice.

"Y-yeah. No problem, I guess."

-------------------------------------------

Things shift after that night by the swing set.

Despite the history project having ended, he ends up seeing you even more regularly than before. It's because you end up taking a part-time job at Family Video after befriending Steve and Robin, and also because you start intermittently dropping by to watch his band pratcitce after school or swing by randomly to Hellfire Club sessions, at the insistence of El wanting to see Mike.

At this point, all of Eddie's friends know who you are. It was comedic at first, to see how Gareth nearly choked on his tongue and refused to make eye contact with you in your presence, and how all the freshman boys - Dustin, Mike and Lucas - pretended to be interested in a bunch of random sheet music thrown around the room to avoid having to look at you.

"Relax, kids, you can stare at her." Eddie had to say, laughing as he placed an arm around your shoulder. "Stop scaring them, (L/n)."

You just scowled at that, shrugging off his arm and sighing dramatically.

"I'm not trying to do that! It's just my reputation preceding me. I'm not as mean as I seem, I promise." you emphasized, turning to address the boys face to face. "I'm just here because Eddie promised to let me play for a 'taster' session of sorts."

"You're... joining Hellfire?" Dustin meekly asked, being the first out of the three to gain enough courage to look up at you. To his surprise, you didn't scowl or flip him off, if anything, you looked quite approachable and friendly standing next to Eddie, who was smiling at you with so much pride.

"Not sure if I'm necessarily joining, but... this meathead won't stop talking about this damn game so I wanted to see what all the hype was about."

The other boys loosened up after seeing how relaxed Eddie seemed to be around you, mock hurt on his face as he dramatically clutched his chest, stumbling backwards as if he'd been shot.

"You wound me with such harsh words! Now I can't promise that I'll go easy on you when we start playing."

"Why would that matter?"

"Duh, I'm the dungeon master, so everything you can do in the game is basically up to me. Or what you roll on the dice, but mainly up to me."

"That hardly seems fair." you commented, flashing the young boys a look of disbelief. "Is that really how this works?"

"Yeah, which is why we basically always have to gang up against him." Lucas replied, drawing a genuine laugh from your lips. It was the final straw to break the tension in the room, everyone loosening up and welcoming your new presence in the group.

"Sounds good, freshies. Us against Eddie, we can definitely take him." you winked at Eddie, rolling your shoulders forward. "Watch out, Eds."

It's late spring now, verging on summer. Eddie's lost count of the amount of time you two have spent together, be that in between periods at school (skipping classes together by the bleachers) or sneaking into the cinemas without paying on a tipsy game of truth or dare.

Eddie catches himself fully lost in your presence - watching your hair flip in the wind behind you whilst he drives with his window down, surveying how your delicate fingers toy with the fabric of your jacket when you're deep in concentration, counting your slow breaths as you lean against him in a darkened parking lot out of exhaustion - until the illusion is shattered for him by way of remembrance.

It's a bet.

But it doesn't matter, not really, he'd always tell himself. You two are still friends. And Eddie's not forcing it, being friends with you is natural, spending time with you is something he genuinely wants.

It's a hollow way of consoling himself, but it's the only way he's able to justify continuning to hang out with you and to slyly avoid Jason or his stupid best friends' constant pestering about how the bet is going.

"We're still just friends, Carver." Eddie gritted through his teeth, skillfully stepping past the blonde to get to his van. Jason didn't seem to like that response, one hand reaching out to grab at his wrist and yank him backwards.

"Listen, freak. I'm impressed, not gonna lie, that you even managed to become friends with her. But the bet was over dating her and getting her to go to prom. It's now, what, end of April?" the jock chuckled, tapping his two front fingers against the expensive watch around his wrist. "Time's running out. That said, I lose absolutely nothing if you lose the bet so actually-"

The blonde pulled away, victorious grin on his pink lips. He looked like a coy predator playing with his prey, smug cruelty rolling off of him in waves.

"Yeah, don't make a move. I'd love to win this bet."

Looking down at where Jason's filthy hand was wrapped around his wrist, Eddie roughly shook off the basketball player's grasp, glare fuelled by the heat of a thousand suns.

"I'm going to win the bet, Carver. Don't get too cocky."

"Did you see what Nate did yesterday?" you question him in the present. Eddie's lying down on the carpeted floor of your bedroom next to you, legs bent in a 45 degree angle, hands supporting the back of his head. You're lying down with your feet propped up on your bed, your eyes meeting his in a sly manner.

"Not really, why? What'd he do this time?"

"He tried doing a backflip during the lunch period and broke his left wrist. Cried like a little bitch about it, too."

The image of the tall, overconfident jock wailing like a child makes Eddie snort.

"That's hilarious."

"It's what he deserves too. He's a total creep." you shudder, remembering how he tried to hit on you on your first day of school. "Though, he did cry a bit more when I sprained his fingers because he tried to grab my ass on my first day."

"He did what?"

"Yeah, I know. Real fucking creep. Don't know why he bothered, either, the jeans I was wearing that day were super ugly."

"I highly doubt that." the comment slips out of Eddie's mouth unconsciously, piquing your curiosity enough for you to shift your body to the side to stare at him with confusion.

"What'd you mean?"

"Oh! Just like..." Eddie scratches his neck, avoiding your gaze. "I highly doubt that the jeans you were wearing were ugly. Just like, I don't think anything you could wear could be ugly."

You sit up at that, legs crossing underneath.

"You calling me pretty?"

"Well, uh-" he stumbles over his words, cheeks flushing vibrant pink as he begins to rattle off in an incoherent manner. "Yeah, I mean I always thought that but yeah you are. Objectively speaking. But also like I think you're pretty, is it hot in here suddenly or-" his hands fly up to the collar of his hellfire club shirt, pulling at the sides as if to let in cool air.

"Are you serious?" you sound shocked, in disbelief, which only confuses Eddie in return.

"Of course I am. Why... would I lie about that?"

You shrug, bringing a juice box to your lips.

"Figured if you thought I was pretty we wouldn't still be friends. That's a compliment you give to someone who's attracted to you, not someone who's just your friend."

"Oh." Eddie then comments, pausing ever so slightly. "Who says I'm not attracted to you?"

His daring question lingers in the air for a few baited breaths, the atmosphere in the room shifting in the microseconds it takes for that sentence to leave his lips and for him to suddenly shift closer to you.

"... I'm attracted to you too." you choke on your words, it barely being a whisper, but Eddie catches it nonetheless. His left hand comes to rest on your cheek, eyes staring right into yours that you think he must be able to see through your soul.

"Can I kiss you?"

You don't think you can speak. You're left to nod quietly, hoping that it's enough. And it is. The force with which he kisses you - he blames it on the months and months of pent up adoration - backs you up against your bed, your legs falling backwards as your back meets the soft mattress. He practically crawls on top of your lap, kiss messy and deep, strands of curly hair clouding your hazy vision.

When it's done, fresh air filling your lungs instead of the intoxicating scent of Eddie, muted taste of beer and mint chapstick dancing on your lips, you two stare at each other with wide eyes before bursting into a fit of nervous laughter.

"So... what now?" you question lightly, hands still gripping his forearms.

"Let's go on a date? Arcade after school on Friday?" he suggests.

"We already do that every week, doofus."

"I know, but this time it'll be different. I'll hold your hand and buy you dinner afterwards."

You pretend to think about it, humming quietly before nodding with a wide smile.

"Deal."

You fall asleep in his embrace that night, face squished against his upper chest, body rising and falling alongside your slow breaths. But Eddie can't sleep. The euphoria he's feeling is underlined with sickening guilt, a gnawing clawing sensation in his stomach, a harsh whisper in the back of his mind that none of this is real.

He's lying to you.

But what he feels for you isn't a lie, he reasons, so it's fine. He's driving himself insane with these internal arguments, subconsciously pulling your sleeping figure closer towards himself as his fingers clutch onto your waist tighter.

Burying his head into your hair, inhaling deeply, he attempts to quiet his thoughts. It'll all be over soon. Graduation is looming. He's just got one more part of the bargain to hold up - asking you to prom. It'll be over soon, it won't get worse....

Right?

------------------------------------------

"I'm really glad she's dating you."

Hopper comments two months later, looking over from the driver seat of his truck as Eddie jumps up straight upon being addressed by your godfather. The two men have spent countless times together - whether it be Eddie lounging on the couch in the living room whilst waiting for you or Hopper knocking on Eddie's trailer door to ask why you still haven't come home - but it never stops Eddie from getting a bit nervous around him.

He wants to make a good impression on the police chief for numerous reasons, but above all, because he's your father. Your only parent at this point. So even if it's something as casual as hitching a ride from Hopper the day Gareth had to borrow his van, Eddie's still a bit on edge when he's sitting in the passenger seat next to Hopper.

Upon seeing the younger man's eyes widen in surprise, Hopper chuckles, the sound a low rich baritone.

"Have to admit, the day I picked her up from school that day you two kids got yourselves locked inside and she called you her new friend... I felt that there was something more to that word. Friend. And despite your, um, questionable activities-"

Eddie flushes with embarrassment at that.

"You've always been good to her. And it's doing her wonders, I can tell. She went from this isolated, broken shell of a person to... Someone with friends her age. A job. Someone who smiles and laughs and says yes to spontaneous plans. I know it's not all you but you've been a big part of that so thank you." Hopper grumbles out, coughing awkwardly, not used to such heartfelt confessions. It makes Eddie feel even worse, almost making him want to sink into his seat.

"It's no big deal." Eddie forces out, voice strained and almost breaking because he's choking on recurrent waves of shame, guilt twisting like sharp veins around his chest and squeezing his heart. His mind is still foggy and reeling from the guilt when the truck finally pulls up by his trailer, and you come barreling from the inside of his trailer to hug Eddie.

"Didn't know you'd be here." Hopper comments, crossing his arms. You roll your eyes.

"I think I'm allowed to come over to visit my boyfriend, dad."

"Mmhmm, just make sure you're home by eleven."

"Midnight."

"Ten thirty."

"Eleven thirty."

Hopper pretends to be annoyed, sighing deeply, but he still smiles and ruffles your hair before leaving.

"Fine. See you then, kiddo."

Your legs thrown over his lap half-hazardously, Eddie can't really focus on the VHS tape you've generously 'rented' from your workplace - "Please, as if I'll get in trouble. The only employees are me, Robin and Steve and our boss basically never comes by." - as another character gets gruesomely killed on the screen.

"You're not watching the movie." you complain half-way through the movie, putting down the popcorn bowl to stare incredulously at your boyfriend. He only smiles in response, shaking his head sideways, symmetrical face framed by his long curls.

"Can't focus. You're too pretty." he offers, and you chuckle at that, his whining tone and pleading eyes melting your heart. You clamber on top of him, legs caging his body in between your thighs, as your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

"Aw.... Thanks, babe. But you really don't have to tell me that every day."

"I'd tell you that you're pretty every day just to see you smile like that." he admits softly, boyish grin on his lips and mischievous glint in his eyes. You open your mouth to respond with a sassy comment when someone knocks on the door loudly, accompanied by a furious set of even louder knocks.

It's your sister, El, jumping up and down anxiously before her eyes fall upon your familiar figure.

"El, what's wrong?" you question immediately, climbing off of the couch and rushing to cradle your younger sister's face in your hands. She doesn't look physically harmed nor does she look particularly upset, just anxious to see you.

"I'm bored and Mike canceled on me last minute." she complains, stretching her arms out over her head. "I heard from dad that you were here and I wondered if we could like... hang out. We don't have to, if I'm intruding I can-"

You look at Eddie with a pleading gaze, but you honestly don't even need to convince him, as he's already fluffing up the pillows and shaking off the popcorn crumbs from the blanket strewn over the sofa.

"Nonsense, nonsense! You're totally welcome to join us. Just be careful with your sister - sometimes she screams really loudly at the jump scares." your boyfriend teases, winking at you. El giggles at that and you send the metalhead a harsh glare.

"I do not."

"You totally do, babe. But it's okay, I still find you hot."

"Is there popcorn left?" your younger sister then questions, wiggling out of your grasp to stare at the television with eyes full of wonder.

"I'll make more, why don't you two get comfortable." you quickly suggest, knowing Eddie's kitchen like the back of your hand. You take the quiet moments which follow to admire how Eddie interacts with El, your vision only slightly obscured from behind the counter.

El's rattling off about something you don't really understand but Eddie seems totally entraced by her, delighted smile and eager nodding, gently encouraging your younger sister to continue her story whenever she gets nervous that she's talking too much. Your sister looks wholly relaxed in his presence, shoulders lax and fingers thrumming gently against a cushion she's holding against her stomach.

When he makes a dumb joke and El laughs, the warmth blossoming in your chest worsens. You feel lightheaded, stomach filled with love, eyes glazed over in pink hue. You almost drop the popcorn packets on the floor when you realize what this is.

Love.

You love Eddie.

You're not surprised, concealing the smile on your face as you turn away and pop the paper packet into the microwave. Eddie's your first real boyfriend. First friend turned lover, first friend in Hawkins, the person who introduced you to your new group of friends - Steve, Robin, and now Nancy and Jonathan as they swing by Family Video ever so often.

It was inevitable then that you'd fall in love with Eddie.

It's all you can think about for the rest of the night, in between stupid jokes thrown in by Eddie and comments of awe and shock muttered by El in between mouthfuls of popcorn, until she's practically falling asleep on your lap. Checking your watch, you realize that it's nearly 11:30 anyways, so you'd better get home.

"Do you think you could drive us back?" you question quietly, whispering as you gesture to El's sleeping figure. Eddie nods, turning off the television and gently pocketing his car keys as you lightly shake your sister awake and strap her into the backseat. She mumbles incoherently, asking sleepily where you two are going, to which you only shush her and assure her that Eddie's just driving you two home.

The conversation in the car is light and spare - it's late at night, El's still sleeping in the backseat, and unbeknownst to each other, you both have a lot on your minds.

Eddie's fixated on how much he likes you, how much he's scared of losing you and how it's almost been two months of dating you. You're transfixed on the realization that you love Eddie, the tall metalhead who loves his guitar and D&D, the boy with copious jean jackets and an oddly obnoxious charm that broke down your walls brick by brick. The constant wondering if he feels the same, the worries that you're overthinking it, layered with the euphoric rush of adoration and infatuation makes you almost sick with joy.

When the familiar outline of your house comes into view, Eddie piggybacks El into your house as you open up the front door for him, allowing him to gently tuck your sister into bed before you close the door. You accompany Eddie back out to the driveway, fingers anxiously twitching by your sides as the confession sits on the tip of your tongue. It's burning your mouth to keep it in, heart beating at a million miles per minute.

"What's on your mind, princess?" he gently asks you, the sour expression on your face giving you away in a moment's notice that you're clearly deep in thought. But nothing could've prepared him for what you said next.

"I love you." you blurt out. "I actually, wholly, undoubtedly love you."

Eddie freezes at that, grin falling ever so slightly, eyes wide and unblinking. You take it as a bad sign, fumbling over your words desperately as you try to salvage the situation.

"I-I know that might be kind of quick because we've only been dating for two months, but if you think about it we've been friends for almost like three quarters of a year, so it's not-"

"No, no." your boyfriend quickly reassures you, hand cupping your chin to stop your talking and to focus your attention on him. You realize that up close, you can better make out his features in the dark: he's smiling brightly, eyes fawning and voice gentle. "It's not quick. I realized I loved you many weeks ago. Was just waiting for you to catch up." Eddie adds, winking at you.

You laugh at that, nodding eagerly, tension dissipating from the night air in an instant. The boy then kisses you gently under the pale moonlight, his tongue slipping in to trace your bottom lip when you moan out in surprise, the strength and passion with which he presses into your mouth catching you off guard.

Eddie's kissed you a million times at this point, but this time it feels different to you. It feels like a million unsaid "i love you"s wrapped into one, delicate touch burning golden tattoos alongside your skin as his hand dances up your waist, pleasant melodies ringing in your ears even when you pull away to catch your breath.

"So... you love me and I love you, I guess." you breathe out into the cold air, affirming reality for yourself by speaking out loud.

"Yeah." Eddie replies, licking his lips to chase the aftertaste of your cherry lipgloss.

"Two people in love. How romantic." you joke, smiling.

Eddie doesn't respond to that, only pressing another shaky kiss to your lips before bidding you goodnight, his knuckles turning white with the strength with which he grips the steering wheel on his drive back. His anxiety has snowballed past its tipping point, his head a toxic warzone of jumbled thoughts, nauseous feeling causing bile to rise up to his throat that Eddie needs to pull over to the side mid-drive.

His heart feels like it's being crushed.

He can't stand it anymore - the lying, the secrets, the way you look at him like he's the only thing that matters in this cruel world. And now, it's undeniable. The truth is staring him right in the face.

You said you loved him.

And fuck, he loves you.

It's gone too far. He's fallen too deep. He's sinking into a bottomless pit and he's dragging you down with him.

And for what? Eddie bitterly ponders, smashing his hands down onto the steering wheel with anger. A stupid bet with a jock?

He needs to call it off.

He makes a beeline to the locker room the next morning, frantically tearing through the school hallways in search of Jason. Unfortunately, the best he can do is to run into Oliver and Nate post-shower, flicking each other with wet towels before Eddie coughs and demands their attention.

"Where's Jason?"

"Pissed off the coach so he's doing another lap. Why, backing out of your bet like a pussy?" Nate teases, drawing a howling laugh from Oliver. Not that Eddie cares. It just frustrates him because first period starts in a few minutes and if he's late one more time for chemistry, he knows it's another detention slip being put into his hands.

"Just tell Carver to meet me by the bleachers during lunch. It's important. And yes, it's about the bet."

Eddie thanks god that you don't share any classes with him today. He doesn't think he could stomach it, looking into your innocent eyes and letting you kiss and hold him softly when he doesn't deserve your love.

He feels as if he's in a trance the whole day, going through the motions of life, eyes empty and mind buzzing with static as he nods along to one lecture after another.

The only thing to jolt him awake is when, in between his second and third period, he hears a familiar set of voices whispering from inside the janitor's closet. It's Dustin, Mike and Lucas, with Dustin clearly pained and tired whilst the other two boys whisper frantically amongst themselves.

Privacy be damned, Eddie opens the door and flicks on the light, jaw clenching with anger the moment the small space is enveloped in bright light and he sees the shiny black bruise blossoming on Dustin's forehead.

"What the hell happened?" Eddie quickly questions, closing the door quietly behind him. He's far too tall for the enclosed space, head awkwardly brushing up against the ceiling, his limbs stretching into mops and cleaning supplies, but he can't give a shit. His veins are coursing with anger, worry tightening his chest as he surveys the extent of Dustin's injuries - the curly haired boy only sighing and refusing to meet the senior's gaze.

"Jason Carver happened to him." Lucas cuts in, voice also tense and angry.

"We were hanging out by the entrance and Dustin decided to stand up to Jason and his teammates for bullying us and, well.. he didn't like Dustin's smart mouth." Mike comments quietly.

"So what, that bastard punched you?!" Eddie exclaims, hysterical.

"He didn't punch me, relax. He just knocked me up against the wall and I happened to slam my head against a brick out of place."

"A BRICK?" Eddie screams, causing all of them to cringe at the sudden loud noise. "Shit, Henderson, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, seriously! I mean, just another Monday, right?" Dustin tries to joke, flashing the older boy a reassuring grin. But it does little to quiet Eddie's fury and guilt, not being able to protect his fellow Hellfire Club members in their time of need.

Lunch time rolls around achingly slow, Eddie munching on his homemade sandwich quickly whilst waiting for Jason to show up by the bleachers. The blonde makes his appearance a full ten minutes into lunch, striding across the green fields in large steps with a scowl on his face.

"What's so important you had to cut into my lunch time, huh?" he growls, clearly annoyed.

"I'm calling the bet off."

"Huh?"

"The bet. I'm fucking over it. I don't care about the money. You win, okay? Now let me out."

Eddie attempts to shove past the blonde but it's like walking into a brick wall, Jason's left hand flying up to Eddie's chest to stop him from walking away before shoving him backwards.

"You're backing out now? When prom's just around the corner and you've already got that bitch riding your dick? I'm surprised, freak." he cruelly comments, cocking his head to the side in fake interest.

"Yeah, I'm out. Now let me go."

"I'm just surprised, that's all. Thought you'd stick by the bet, especially with what happened to that twerp this morning. What's his name, Justin?"

"It's Dustin." Eddie grits, fists clenching by his sides.

"Yeah, whatever. You want to give up the money we bet on, cool, whatever. But a part of our deal was that I'd - along with my friends - lay off of your band of freaks. If you want to call off the bet, that offer is also taken off the table."

Jason's words hang in the air, metaphorical black smoke filling Eddie's lungs and restricting his airways. He feels like he can't breathe, hands clawing at his skin, heart beating at a million miles per minute whilst he mulls over the blonde's words.

All he can focus on is the panicked and scared looks on Lucas and Mike's faces, and the shiny bruise on Dustin's forehead. And Eddie's being given the choice for them to not be bullied for the rest of the whole year, to finally not be terrorized every time they walk into school.

"Still want to call off the bet?" Jason mocks, extending a hand forward. "Shake my hand and it's over."

Eddie stares at the blonde's outstretched hand in silence.

He doesn't shake it.

-----------------------------------------

You can barely sit still, the low humming of Billy Joel flowing from your record player barely settling your nerves as you shift back and forth between your bed and the full length mirror in your room, criticizing every stray hem of your dress. There's a quiet set of knocks against your door and you yell out that you're not ready yet, expecting it to be Hopper.

"It's me!" El announces. "I can help you get dressed, if that's okay?"

Dropping your dress onto your bed, you open the door with a large smile, the excited and eager expression on your younger sister's face too sweet to reject. She sits on your bed with her legs dangling off, watching as you hold up different fabrics up to your chest and ask for her approval. After a several tries and pleas for you to "spin around", you two settle on a nice baby blue doll dress with a sweetheart neckline.

"Can I try doing your mascara?" El then asks quietly, pointing to the mess of makeup littered on your vanity. You laugh, nodding, closing your eyes quietly as her shaky hands attempt to carefully brush through your lashes with the wand. To your delighted surprise, she's a master at it, even going so far as to blend out your eyeshadow perfectly when you hand over your brushes to her.

"What shoes are you wearing?" she asks immediately after that, practically bouncing with excitement.

"I'm starting to think you're more excited about me going to prom than I am, El." you tease, opening your closet and pulling out a pair of sparkly white heels.

"Oh, I can't help it!" she gushes. "It's like all the romantic movies I watched, they always end with the girl and the boy going to prom. It's so romantic." she dreamily sighs, landing on your bed with her back on the mattress.

"Does that make me the protagonist?" you joke, strapping on your heels as you lean down towards your feet.

"Duh. And it makes Eddie your love interest."

"Very handsome, very charming, love interest, I'd like to add." Eddie suddenly cuts in, standing behind your door with a smug smile on his face. It fades into a soft, adoring grin when he sees you in your dress, dolled up and pretty yet still so naturally you. He hopes you can't tell that he loses his cool at the sight, voice slightly strained and tips of his ears flushing pink. "You look absolutely gorgeous, princess."

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." you comment, throwing him a flirtatious wink. It's no lie, he cleans up well - the suit is a little awkward on him in some places, but the clean cut look makes his jaw stand out more, lean muscle straining the fabric perfectly.

"Shall we get going, my dear love interest?" you joke, offering one arm forward. El scrambles off your bed to hold open the door for you as Eddie wraps one of his arms around yours, nodding.

"We shall." he puts on a horrible posh accent, making you laugh at his antics. Hopper asks - no, practically demands - to sneak in a couple polaroids of you two together before you're burning with embarrassment and desperately shoving Eddie out the door, calling out to your father that you'd be back by midnight.

By the time the two of you pull up to the gymnasium, the party's already started. You're buzzing with anticipation and nerves when Eddie gently helps you hop off of his van, eyes burning with so much adoration that you can't even meet his gaze without melting.

"Bet you that the punch is gonna suck." he whispers into your ear, the flashing lights overhead blinding your eyes ever so slightly.

"Meh, that's why I did this."

You hike up the skirt of your dress to reveal a bottle of vodka strapped to your thigh, Eddie watching in awe as you twist off the red metal cap and pour him a shot into a red solo cup.

"God, I fucking love you." he moans, practically whining it against your lips. You smirk.

"I know."

Eddie's not thinking of anything but how beautiful you look - so carefree, hands thrown up in the air, bubbly laughter erupting from your throat when he dips you or tugs you towards the food stand - that he doesn't even register Jason and his boys' persistent gazes throughout the night. It's only when you declare that you need some fresh air that he's broken out of his lovesick trance, his jacket finding home on your shoulders as you two lean against the wall of the school building.

"Having too much fun?" Eddie teases, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"Definitely. That, and the three shots of vodka and all the pizza grease is melting my brain."

"Ditto."

Eddie's shoulders tense when he hears sets of footsteps approach, accompanied by the drunken yellings of Jason and his friends. Hands flying to your waist, he pulls you upwards, unreadable expression on his face.

"Let's go back inside." Eddie suddenly hurries out, clearly panicked. You frown, confused.

"We literally just came outside."

"I-I know, but uh, let's go-"

"MUNSON!!!!! There's the man of the hour." Oliver screams, cupping his hands together to amplify his voice across the parking lot. Eddie freezes in place, trapped, as you scowl and cross your arms over your chest.

"Piss off, asshole." you bark back, stepping in front of Eddie protectively.

"Oh, got your little bitch fighting your fights now, impressive. You trained her well, freak." Nate drawls, practically tripping over his words with how drunk he is. Eddie can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears, panic settling in.

"Don't talk about her like that." he manages to choke out, standing up on shaky legs. But he falters under Jason's gaze, green with envy and red hot with anger, as the blonde steps forward in front of his friends.

"Come on, freak, you can drop the act now. You've won the bet, fair and square."

"What bet?" you stumble backwards in shock, frantic eyes flying to Eddie, who is now suddenly refusing to meet your gaze. "Eddie, what's going on?"

"Ah right, of course little miss ice queen would be confused! Let me break it down for you, sweetheart." Jason practically shouts, clapping his hands together with a gleeful smile. "Back in December, your little boyfriend and I waged a bet. This loser thought he could do a better job asking out girls than me, so I said that if he could get your prissy ass to say yes to a date and to prom, he'd win."

"What?"

Eddie doesn't have the courage to look at you. He's sparing himself the trouble of having to see the crestfallen look on your face, of having to actually see for himself the way your hopes come crashing down into a pile of rubble, to be standing in the aftermath of his destruction.

"We're all impressed that he managed to succeed." the blonde jokes, his two friends eagerly nodding from the back. "Guess we underestimated your abilities, freak." Jason reaches forward and punches Eddie in the shoulder, knocking him back against the wall.

"(Y/n), I can explain-" Eddie starts out lowly, but you're not willing to hear any of it. He can see it in your eyes: in a moment's notice, you've pulled back up all your defences, warmth and kindness disappearing behind your walls as your voice drips with venom.

"Fuck off, Munson."

The laughter of the basketball players continuously rings in Eddie's ears as he chases after you, desperately trying to catch up to you as you run across the parking lot.

"Please, just hear me out-"

"NO." you announce firmly, spinning on your heels and staring up at him with burning hatred. You've never stared at him with anything other than fondness and warmth the past few months. It's then gut wrenching that the fury with which you're glaring at him now - the lack of any kind of kindness or playfulness in your eyes - is unprecedented.

"You know, I knew this was too good to be true." you start, voice shaky. "God, you have no idea how many fucking times I found myself thinking throughout the course of our relationship - no, even when we were just fucking friends - that I didn't deserve this. That there was a reason no one wanted to be my friend. But I was a fucking idiot, because-"

You choke on your words, a sob hanging by the edge of your lips, but you bitterly swallow it down. You'd be damned if Eddie gets your tears on top of everything else.

"Because I thought this was my reward. I was thinking, finally, after all these years of suffering, I could get something nice. New friends, new family, a boy who liked me for who I was... But I realize now that I was nothing more than a joke to you. A sleazy bet with the sleaziest douchebags in school."

"(Y/n)-" Eddie tries again, he can feel you slipping through his fingers and it's breaking him, heart aching to just have you in his arms again. But all you do is shake your head sideways, gritting your teeth as you shrug off his jacket and throw the fabric against his chest.

"Don't fucking talk to me again. If you even so much as look at me, I'll ask Hopper to step in."

"At least let me drive you home." he quietly mutters. "You don't even have a car."

"Save it. I'll take the bus."

Eddie stands there staring at his jacket in his hands, your perfume still lingering in the fabric as he watches hopelessly you walk away into the dark woods.

"Fuck." he breathes out, tears stinging his eyes.

He's fucked up. Really, really badly.

------------------------------------

Steve and Robin both glare daggers into Eddie's back as he shuffles through the aisles of Family Video, both of them pretending to be busy when he'd first entered the store and muttered a quiet "hello." They're pissed at him, for good reason, of course, but it's awkward to know that his friends (who are also your friends) have all turned on him.

It's even more awkward having to make excuses as to why you're no longer showing up to band practice or to D&D sessions to the oblivious freshman and his other friends like Jeff and Gareth, who always looked forward to your sarcastic comments and humorous quips to pass the time.

"Just this, please." Eddie says, throwing a VHS tape of Evil Dead onto the counter. Both Steve and Robin stare down at the tape, then at Eddie, before resuming their conversation behind the counter as if they've never seen him. Eddie rolls his eyes, suppressing a deep sigh.

"Come on guys, this is childish. This isn't even for me, this is for Gareth."

"Then why didn't he come here and rent it himself?" Robin interrogates, tone harsh and dry.

"Got held up doing house chores by his mom. Just scan this damn thing, I'll pay, and I'll be right out of your eyesight, okay?" Eddie's practically pleading at this point and Robin sends Steve a knowing look, forcing the other boy to jump off of his seat and begin to mindlessly scan the tape.

"That'll be $2.50."

In between the painfully awkward and silent transaction, Eddie's looking at everywhere but his friends' faces. Their silent frustration, disapproval and disappointment is too heavy to bear, alongside the heavy guilt and crushing depression he's been experiencing the past two weeks since prom.

"Why'd you do it?" Steve blurts out mid-handing off the tape to Eddie, causing Robin to slap her best friend across the shoulder for his outburst.

"What?"

"I just, I don't get it. It doesn't make sense. I saw - we both saw -" Steve gestures to Robin, sending her a warning glare. "How you looked at (Y/n). How you spoke about her. How much you loved her. What'd you even bet for?"

Pocketing the tape into his back pocket, Eddie sighs slowly, contemplating whether or not to tell them the truth. But hell, he's got nothing to lose at this point, he figures.

"Happened over a weed dealing. I was just talking shit, really, because Jason's ego was bruised after being rejected by (Y/n). We bet over me being able to successfully ask her out to a date and then to prom. If I won, the conditions were that Jason would buy for double - and I knew that Wayne was tight on money, and the trailer's been long overdue for a fix. And he also, uh... said if I won the bet, he'd stop bothering me and my friends."

Eddie doesn't notice it, because he's staring down at his hands whilst rambling, but Steve and Robin exchange a sympathetic glance as Eddie continues to pour his heart out.

"I tried pulling out a million times. But for one reason or another, I could never do it. I was a coward, don't get me wrong, but... when she told me she loved me, I knew it'd gone too far. I was so intently committed to breaking the bet off, consequences and money be damned, but then I saw Henderson had a bruise on his face from Jason roughing him up." Eddie swallows nervously, throat feeling prickly and dry. "I couldn't back out of it then. I didn't want any of the kids to get more hurt when I could prevent it."

"Oh, Eddie..." Robin says quietly, placing a warm hand on his arm. He only shakes her off though, forced grin pulling his lips apart.

"It's whatever. Point is, regardless of good intentions or bad circumstances, I was a fucking coward. And a liar. And an asshole. I broke her heart and I deserve all the bad things in the world for that."

"Does she know any of this?" Steve presses, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"No. I haven't spoken to her since prom. Never even so much as drove past her home. Pretty sure Hopper would shoot my tires flat if I tried, anyways." Eddie weakly jokes.

"You should tell her. If not for you, than for her. She deserves to know the truth."

The metalhead only sighs at that, shaking his head lightly in denial.

"She already knows the truth, Steve."

"Not the bet, but the reasons behind the bet. Your feelings through out the whole thing. How you tried to pull out but you couldn't. I mean the whole truth, Eddie." Steve insists, unwavering.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with this loser." Robin dryly comments, flicking Steve's forehead. Steve scowls at that, sending the brunette girl a playful glare before turning around to stare at Eddie.

"Seriously. Let her know the truth. It'll both do you good."

"If I were you though, I'd bring chocolates as a peace offering or something, because I did hear that Hopper got a new rifle last week." Robin adds, swinging her legs off the counter as Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Gee, thanks, Buckley."

"Don't sweat it, Munson."

"....Thanks." Eddie quietly whispers, genuinely touched by his friends' advice. Their words continue to replay in his mind like a broken record on his drive back home and out of the corner of his eyes, Eddie continues to see a phantom outline of you. Sitting next to him, singing from the driver's seat, hair being ruffled from the open window.

You're still haunting him, he still can't stop thinking about you. Mulling it over, he realizes that the least he can do is to try. Try and talk to you, to iron things out.

He just hopes you're willing to listen.

---------------------------------------

Eddie doesn't think he's ever felt this nervous before.

Standing by your front porch, throwing small pebbles at your bedroom window late at night, hoping that you notice the odd sounds and look outside. It's weird - a part of him is screaming at him to run away, that this was a mistake and that he should run into his van and drive home right now. But there's another part of him, one which is stronger and louder, reminding him that he has to explain himself to you.

He sees you lean out your window with a confused expression on your face, eyes scanning the night sky and trees before landing on his figure. You roll your eyes and slam your window shut, forcing him to escalate his plan.

The next time Eddie's knocking on your window he's precariously balancing on the slippery roof tiles, gripping onto your windowsill for dear life and hoping you have enough mercy in your heart to let him in. You're still scowling when you open your window back up, but this time there's a hint of care and worry in your eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing? You got a death wish, Munson?" you hiss, careful to not wake anyone else in the house.

"Well you weren't going to let me in the normal way, so I had to do the next best thing." he weakly offers, fingers turning white. "Are you going to let me in so I don't die, then?"

You click your tongue, swearing under your breath.

"Just because I don't want to attend your fucking funeral." you warn, stepping back and letting him climb in through your window. He practically falls onto the floor face first, limbs awkwardly tumbling forward, his left arm catching his fall ever so slightly in an effort to save the bouquet of flowers and chocolate from getting crushed.

"H-here." he shakily offers them by thrusting the items into your hands, which you cautiously take before throwing it behind you on the bed.

"Thanks. You can leave now."

"Wait, wait, wait-" he rushes to block off your access to the door before you can push him out the bedroom, making you stomp your feet in frustration.

"What, Eddie? I'm fucking tired, it's a Wednesday night, for fuck's sake."

"I know you don't want to talk to me. But it's fucking killing me that you don't even know the whole story. Please, hear me, out. Just five minutes, and if you still want me to leave, I... I will."

You should be laughing at his face. You should be your usual coldhearted self, uncaring smirk lacing your lips as you shove him out the front door and throw the flowers and chocolate back onto his chest. But you can't find it in yourself to do so.

Damn Eddie Munson and his handsome face, you think. You also can't deny the lingering affection you hold for him, and fuck... you have missed him. Greatly. The amount of times you've cried in the past two weeks is a testament to that.

The worst harm's already been done, you think. Might as well hear him out.

"Fine. You've got five minutes." you say, and you can see his face light up visibly with joy and relief.

"Thank you. The bet, listen, it... it happened during a drug deal. Jason was pissed that you'd rejected him and I was just trying to push his bottoms and toy with his fragile ego by boasting that I could probably be better with girls than him. He knew that I was having money issues and the trailer needed to be fixed, so he cut me a deal. If I got you to say yes to a date, then he'd start paying double for our weed dealings." Eddie rushes out, speaking so fast that he has to catch a deep breath in between.

"Then I added I wanted him to stop bothering me and my friends at school. Especially now that I got the freshman kids to look out for, I just wanted his word that he'd stop bothering them all. In return for that, however, it was additionally agreed that I'd also have to get you to say yes to prom."

"That's... oddly sweet of you. Kind of." you mutter, thoughts running a million miles per hour at the revelation. You figured that the bet was just a joke to exploit you. Not something Eddie agreed to in an effort to protect his uncle and his friends.

"It's really not, because I hurt you. I knew from the beginning that this was wrong. I had this persistent, sick, stabbing sensation in my stomach all throughout our friendship that this was wrong. I tried to lie to myself that I hadn't done anything bad yet, because we hadn't even started dating, but I knew it was only a matter of time before we became real. And once that happened, I..." he chuckles sadly, gaze lowering to the floor.

"I liked the illusion of us together too much to pull back. The bet was always lingering in the back of my mind, sure. But I liked you too much. I love you too much. So I ignored it. Even if it was fake, it felt real whenever I got to hold you and kiss you."

He runs a quick hand through his hair before resuming.

"And then the night that you told me you loved me, I panicked. It was like I was finally awake, like icy cold water had been dumped over my head and I saw what a fucked up mess I'd gotten us into. I told Jason the next day that the bet was off, but... he held the end deal of our bargain over my head. The part about no longer bullying my friends. And Dustin had gotten a black eye that morning from a rough altercation with Jason and I... I didn't end up backing out of the deal because of that. But I tried to get out. God, I tried many, many times. Maybe not as strongly as I should've, but there were numerous times where I tried to get out of the deal." Eddie affirms, pleading.

"So... all of that. All the lying, all the secrets, all the play pretend... was it worth it?" you whisper out loud, hands clutching at your sides as you hug yourself and look up at him.

"Yes." Eddie responds automatically, confident. "Because it meant I got to have you. And I never faked my feelings for you. Not even once. That was all, always, genuine."

You're left to stare at him in silence, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you reflect over his words, Eddie taking in shallow breaths as he carefully surveys your reaction. He can't read your mind right now, he so badly wishes he could see what you're thinking because your expression is kept tight and neutral through it all.

"Do you... still want me to leave?" he whispers quietly. You don't speak, you don't nod nor deny him, you just continue to stare at him with a blank expression.

It's enough of an answer for him.

"You do, huh?" he chuckles, the sound as hollow as his heart. "It's fine, I uh, knew you wouldn't want me again after this. But you... you deserved to know the truth. Again, I'm so sorry for hurting you. I love you though. And I never lied about that."

He's hoping that you're going to stop him from leaving. That this is going to be the breakthrough moment in those romantic films, where you cut him off from speaking with a fierce kiss and whisper forgiveness against his lips, pinning him against the door.

But you don't even twitch. You just silently nod, unreadable expression on your face, and let him brush past you and walk down the stairs silently.

Eddie's heart stills feels heavy, grieving the loss of you and your love. But his shoulders feel ever so lighter, knowing that he's done the right thing by apologizing and explaining himself. He still feels like shit, he still thoroughly plans on smoking at least two packs when he gets back to his trailer, but he feels like he can breathe a tiny bit easier now.

"Wait."

Your voice suddenly rings out from behind him, your front door hanging open behind you as you've clearly ran through the house in a rush. Eddie jumps up in surprise, bewildered that you've chased him down the stairs.

"Y-yeah?" he stumbles out, pulling away from his van door.

"I forgive you. Sort of, I mean, it'll take a while for me to get over it and to fully trust you again but I... I still love you. Do you still love me too?" you whisper, doubtful.

Eddie almost wants to laugh at that question: that you'd even think for a second that he's spent any moment of the past two weeks being anything but in love with you.

"Of course I do, princess. Never stopped."

"Then that's all that matters."

This kiss tastes and feels totally new. Salty tears, mint toothpaste, your shaky fingers grabbing his as Eddie pulls you in impossibly close.

He's trying to memorize every aspect of you, having been starved of your presence for too long, committing every single aspect of you to memory. How you taste against his lips. How your body fits right against his when he places an arm around your waist. How your hair tickles his neck from this angle, moonlight shining a halo around the crown of your head.

You try to pull away a few times to catch your breath, but he doesn't let you, your giggles being swallowed by another needy kiss.

Eddie doesn't ever want to lose you again. Not even for a second.

a/n: if anybody actually read to the end of this story... thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart. This story has been a true labor of love, sweat and tears and countless hours of work. Whilst I was re-editing this I realized I kind of don't like how it turned out but I worked so hard on it and I already announced I was gonna post it so here it goes, I guess.

I've had this concept of a social outcast x Eddie reader with a enemies to lovers trope thrown in for a while so I'm just glad that I got it out my system. Totally nervous and completely unsure of how this will be received (my longest fic to date) but it's out now. Thank you for reading ❣️

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cherry-leclerc · 2 months

Text

i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad.

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport.

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt.

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son.

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime.

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers.

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious.

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari.

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt.

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing.

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him.

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm.

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!”

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile.

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you?

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you.

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased.

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes.

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin.

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve?

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close.

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard.

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him.

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth.

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight.

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.”

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn.

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together.

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man.

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit.

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head.

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right?

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them.

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased.

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.”

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

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softlyspector · 3 months

Text

The second crow

Summary: There's not much in your tiny town, and Joel doesn't expect to stay long.

Pairing: coal miner!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: ~13.5k

Warnings: once again writing about grief, mentions of suicidal ideation, small town setting and drama, past death of a parent (reader), past death of a child (joel), avoidant reader, mentions of natural disaster, anxiety, brief smut, smoking, alcohol mention

A/N: She wrote another long ass fic! This took months to write and then collected dust in the drafts because I'm scared. This is the kind of thing I post and run away from because there is so much of myself in it. This is probably the most me you will ever get. Please allow me this little moment to be sappy about it in the author's note. I don't know if anyone even reads these but I'm going to shove my love in here anyway. This fic is very special to me for a lot of reasons. It deals with a lot of personal issues I've been grappling with, and it is very much a love letter to where I'm from. I hope you enjoy this fic, can find something in it to relate to, and can appreciate the little slice of idealized love for home I've indulged in here. Thank you for reading! And as always, I would love to hear any thoughts you have.

And, he will never, ever know it, but this fic is very much dedicated to my best friend, who was the first person to hang on and say I won't let you go this time.

The door clatters back in the wind; the glass rattles in the frame. Snow swirls into the front foyer before it slams shut again.

A man you don’t recognize steps through the archway, and into the front room. A layer of coal dust lays fine and thin over his coveralls, settled into the creases in his face. He carries a battered miner’s helmet, a duffle bag, a rifle, and nothing else.

“Hi,” you say, surprised from your place behind the kitchen counter, plucking down holiday decorations that had long overstayed their welcome. “Somethin’ I can help you with?”

“Sure,” he nods and approaches, eyes flicking around the small front room, overcrowded with furniture that was in style thirty years ago, peeling patterned forest green wallpaper that you’d love to be able to replace one day, or at least fix up.

You can’t be bothered to feel anything but curiosity.

Strangers are a rare thing.

Rarer are strangers that come from so far away that they do not know not to come inside covered in coal dust and snow, before they have cleaned off. It sloughs off him in minute, shimmering waves, fine lines of black that sparkle in the white, winter light.

Rivulets of sweat cut through the dust on his face and neck, and pools at the base of his throat. Snow melts in his hair and along the shoulders of his coat from the blizzard outside.

A chunk of ice falls off his boot with his final step toward you. You watch it slide across the floor and under the edge of a battered bookshelf. “I’m lookin’ for a room. Guy at the bar pointed me here.”

His accent is a drawl and not a twang, the syllables of his words hang long in the air. Not quite southern. It takes you a long second to pin-point its origin. “Tell me, do they have coal mines in Texas?”

He blinks at you, fingers tightening on the rim of the hardhat in his hands. “Yes ma’am.”

“And did you mine coal there?”

“Can’t say I did.”

“And you didn’t get much snow either, I take it?”

He huffs out a surprised, exasperated chuckle. “Not like this.”

“I figured so,” you smile. “With that way you’re trackin’ dust and ice across my floor. You’d know better than to come in the front door like that. Or at least to stomp off the snow a little.”

The stranger looks back at the mess he tracked across the room and then turns back to you, looking sheepish, maybe a little horrified. “I apologize, I shoulda realized—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head. “It’s all right. But most folks along this street will feel the same, except the bar, so keep that in mind.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“A room you said?”

He nods, then shakes his head. “Well, if I didn’t offend you too bad, that is.”

“You didn’t. But you should know we got a miner’s shower in the basement.”

He just nods again, glancing around the room. You didn’t think someone could get culture shock from your little town, but you think you see all the fixings of it on this stranger’s face. The coal dust and the slushy streets aside, the miner’s shower and kicking snow off his boots seems to have done it.

He looks lost, in more ways than one. Down on his luck, melancholy but different to the kind of sadness you usually see. Tired. Like there's something missing about him.

You go through the motions of asking how long he’ll be staying with you, figuring which room to put him in — end of the hall, you decide, the least drafty of the two. Not like you ever had many guests.

You can’t help feel a little sympathy for him, standing uncomfortable in the middle of the room because you’d pointed out his mistake.

“So, Texas, what brought you to our little town?” You ask and pull on your coat, motioning for him to follow you back outside.

The front steps are slick with ice, in need of another layer of salt. You step carefully over it, the stranger offering you an arm to hang onto as you descend, and lead him around the side of the house, the path already dug out from the snowfall of the previous night.

Dark is falling quick, the sun sinking below the mountains, layering the valley in its usual early darkness, the crests of the hills in the distance cast in an eerie golden orange even through the snowfall.

Texas doesn’t answer you, the tread of his footsteps quiet behind you. When you reach the back of the house, snow up to your ankles padded in from the yard, you turn to face him, snow battering at both of you. “Just work.”

“Why here?”

You like knowing strangers. They’re easy to know, because there’s no chance of them turning and knowing too much, of looking behind your questions and smiles and seeing anything important. You are anonymous to them as they are to you, and that's how you like it. Nothing you might reveal means anything.

He doesn’t answer you and so you leave it. “Well, whatever brought you here, we’re glad to have you. We don’t get many folks from other places.” You turn to the door you’ve led him to, “Now, when you get in from the mines, you come in this way.” You hold up the proper key and let both of you in. “Just to rinse off, y’know? Won’t make you clean up down here, too cold. But otherwise, you can come on through the front door as long as you kick the ice off your boots. All right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

He sounds so serious and polite, brow lowered over his eyes.

“Well, okay,” you smile. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Yours is the first place Joel lands in a long time that he feels comfortable.

Everything has a worn, lived in feel to it, like generations of families and visitors and travelers have passed there before him, like the warmth of their ghosts still linger in the walls and beneath the floorboards.

The front room is cluttered with books and all kinds of knicknacks, postcards that look like they were sent by people who passed through or visited before the town stopped getting so many visitors. The wallpaper is peeling and the floors groan no matter where he sets his feet.

It reminds him of somewhere he’s been before, or something he used to know, and can’t say exactly what.

Maybe it just reminds him of all the comfortable places he’s ever been, that very particular small town intimacy that he’s tried to remain anonymous and separate from for the last year or so.

He means to stay just until the snow storm passes.

And then it does and he keeps on staying.

It’s funny, how quick he takes to you, feels the ache of something settled just at the bottom of his chest, echoed back at him in your eyes. A kind of loneliness and seeking that he tramps down any time it dares raise its head.

“You know,” you had said the second evening he was there. He had been thinking about getting something to eat, and instead found himself letting you pour him a cup of coffee. “You can stay for dinner. We used to feed everybody who stayed here. But that was before the passenger trains quit running. Before my time, nearly. Now it’s just those guys that pass through and wanna go over to the bar anyway.”

“I don’t want ya to go outta your way—”

“Please,” you’d scoffed. “I’d be glad for the company.”

“All right,” he’d found himself agreeing to that smile, the invitation of company he hadn’t wanted or needed in a long time. “Anything I can help you with?”

You’d shaken your head and he sat when you’d gestured at the table. “Very kind of you to offer, though, Joel.”

He hadn't been sure what to say either, that second night, because he’d been alone for so long, and talk had come at a minimum since he left Texas.

The house sighed and Joel sipped his coffee, watching the points of your elbows, the jut of your hip, as you cooked. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t been sure what to say, because you had; well versed in quiet strangers it seemed, which would come to bother him.

He would come to hate how easily you get on with strangers and push everyone else away.

But he hadn’t known that the second night.

Maybe he just hadn’t realized how starved for company he’d really been. But he liked you right away and the way you just talk, every thought you ever had floating up and right out of your mouth without a filter.

It takes his mind off the things he tries to forget anyway.

So, he had eaten with you that second night and every night that he can afterwards.

A week passes and you expect Joel to move on, like everyone does. But he doesn’t, he asks for the room for another week, and then another, and another.

Joel clips steadily into your life, until he’s part of your everyday routine.

He gives you extra money for the dinner appointment he keeps with you each night, though you tell him he doesn’t have to.

He makes himself helpful in the evenings even though you suspect he’s always exhausted but never able to get any shut eye. He drinks coffee by the pot full, and though you wonder what it is that keeps him up at night, you don’t ask. You don’t ask anything of him, because it isn’t your place, though your curiosity burns hot.

The stranger is becoming not a stranger and you don’t know how to feel about that. Maybe this time you would manage to let someone in without feeling like the world might cave in on you.

The stranger, Joel, is kind and sometimes funny. He’s handsome and it’s hard not to like his company. He doesn't talk much but you don't mind.

The dark shadow that hangs behind his eyes has nothing to do with you. But it gets hard to remember that when you end up spending so much time with him.

It isn’t long before your neighbor, and friend, starts in on teasing you about him. Each time Janie comes to the back door with fresh bread from the bakery she makes eyes at you and asks after your handsome boarder.

You claim to know nothing of him, despite knowing so much and so little all in one.

You start to worry every Sunday that he goes out on his own into the woods that he’ll never come back, and that all you’ll have left are the footprints he left in the snow, and even those will be long gone when the year eventually and inevitably warms up.

It scares you that it worries you at all. It shouldn’t matter at all if he suddenly disappeared into the snow.

But he always comes back, never with any game even though you told him nobody cares about the no hunting on Sundays rule, and with a look in his eye that says he did kill something, just not something you could see.

When you figure out he’s carrying nothing to work with him to eat, you insist he go next door and get some pepperoni rolls from Janie. “What is it?”

“What’s it sound like?” You ask and roll your eyes. “They’re good to take into the mines with you. You can’t work thousand hour shifts and not eat. Don’t you have a lunch bucket or somethin’?”

“Thousand hour,” he scoffs. Then, “No, I don’t.”

“Jesus, Joel.”

He laughs and it’s the first time you’ve heard it. It’s nice, and sounds surprised in the air, punched out of him in a short burst. “All right,” he agrees. “All right. I’ll figure somethin’ out.”

But he leaves before the sun comes up and comes back long after it’s set and so you can’t just let it go. His whole days are set in perpetual darkness, and the very least he needs to do is eat proper.

You know you shouldn’t, but you worry about him.

“Just do it,” you grouse at him, shooing him away from the coffee pot. “She makes ‘em fresh everyday and it would make me feel better. It’s common, anyway. It’s what a lot of guys take down there. And you wouldn’t want me dying of worry over you, would you?”

Joel grumbles about it, but he does as you ask, and when he comes in in the evenings, he doesn’t look so pale anymore. The bruises under his eyes never go away, the puffy bags of sleeplessness that he supplements with coffee at all hours of the day, morning and night, but he doesn’t look so wan and so it’s better.

Even quiet as he seems to be, he looks at you when you talk and always says thank you when you put a plate down in front of him, and makes it out to be a great ordeal when he asks if he could trouble you for a cup of coffee.

One evening, a couple weeks on, he slumps down at the table with an unusual amount of heaviness. His shoulders are damp with a thousand snowflakes, coal dust rubbed haphazardly off his face, the weight of a heavy sky on his shoulders.

Joel asks for a cup of coffee but he looks like he’s been sleeping even less than usual.

He looks exhausted, purple bags beneath his eyes, and even though it’s none of your business, you ask, “Sure? Might be you won’t sleep.”

“I’ll be all right.” His voice doesn’t leave room for argument, a tad dismissive.

“You’ll eat with it,” you snap. “Or you can go find it somewhere else.”

He blinks up at you, surprised at your tone. “I can be mean, too, Joel Miller.”

It takes a second but he nods. “I’m sorry. I was raised with better manners than that.”

“I know it. It’s all right.”

Almost like an apology, he tells you about Texas that night, about his brother, about what he’s found he actually misses from home, how he used to be a carpenter before he did this, how he can play the guitar.

“What is it you’re lookin’ for?” You ask softly when he stands at your sink with bowed shoulders, washing the dishes, meticulous about it.

He shrugs. “That’s just it,” he says without looking at you, hands reddened with the heat of the water. “There's nothin’ to look for.”

“You’re that Mr. Miller, aren’t ya? Lives over at the inn, right? Have all winter long?”

Joel is in the tiny general store. It’s mid-March and you asked him to get milk. There’s about five shelves total, a freezer, and a refrigerator. He’s been in and out plenty of times without any kind of trouble.

He glances at the man leaning against the cooler door next to the one he has propped open and gives a vague nod. “Sure.”

“Well, we was just wantin’ to know what’s got you hangin’ around over there for so long.”

It ain’t phrased like a question.

Joel glances over his shoulder, finds two women and the owner of the store looking over at them from the front counter.

“Mister?”

He turns back to the man attempting to intimidate him. “That so?”

“Sure do.”

“Well, she don’t seem to have a problem with my stayin’ there,” he grabs the milk you’d asked him for, the least he could do after all those dinners you cooked. He tries to repay you, do things around the place but you’re resistant to it, independent and sometimes angry, and damn stubborn about it. “So I really don’t see what that has to do with you, anyhow.”

The hostility bleeds red in the air. He pays for the milk and doesn’t wait for the change, figuring he wouldn’t get it anyway, and that a few coins didn’t matter anyway.

When he opens the backdoor, snow and ice and street grit knocked carefully off his boots at the bottom of the steps that led up to the porch, you smile at him.

“You got some protective friends.”

“Excuse me?”

He tells you what happened, lets you put a cup of coffee in front of him on the table and press a friendly hand to his shoulder.

And, Jesus, it shouldn’t, but it makes something deep in him ache. If your hand lingered, if it rubbed the top of his spine and between his shoulder blades, he’d be all right with that; he’d lean into it.

But your hand disappears just as quick.

“Oh, honey, they’re just suspicious of anyone that hangs around town for too long.”

“Why’s that?”

“You ain’t noticed? We don’t get people from other places around here, and the ones we have take everything. With not a lot to go around. They just don’t know you.” You smile wryly at him over your shoulder, mouth twisted crookedly. Your gaze flicks over him, lingering for a second, but then you shrug and turn away.

“Make an effort, if you care to. They’ll come around. They just don’t know you, it’s not like you get out,” you rib lightly.

“Cute.”

“Can’t help you go from here to the mines and back and that’s it.” You’re smiling when you say it, the curve of your cheek visible to him even though your back is turned.

He rolls his eyes and you laugh when you catch him doing it.

He can’t figure why it matters to him, but it does.

So, Joel makes the effort, or does his best to.

He makes his way over to the neighbor’s place and offers to fix their front step he noticed was loose, wood rotting through. He fixes someone’s leaking roof. Runs deliveries of groceries to the old folks who can’t get out and regale him with stories that take at least two hours to tell. He shovels snow until he’s so exhausted he does actually pass out at night.

It gets around that he’s handy and not asking for anything in return and a nice young man according to the older people and so he finds he has something to do each evening for almost a week straight.

Maybe that was a mistake, but if Joel knows anything it’s that small, poor towns run on favors. He knows that you smile when he tells you why he’s back so late each evening.

A week or so after the general store incident, he receives a parcel of muffins, and overhears one of the neighbors commending him in your kitchen. “Maybe he’s not so bad. We was worried. No one ever sees him. You should bring him over to the church sometime.”

It shouldn’t matter, but it does. You laugh and say, “I don’t think either of us are the church goin’ type. But I always know a good man when I see one, you should know that by now at least.”

“You sure do. Think he could fix our porch swing before spring comes?”

“Don’t see why he couldn’t.”

He makes an effort to be seen. It’s nice, he guesses, that people know his name again. It’s nice to feel needed somewhere, even if it smarts a little. It’s nice to feel like maybe he isn’t looking for nothing anymore.

Joel tells himself that it just makes things easier for him, just so he can get goddamn milk without being accosted. Milk for you, for dinner.

No, it has nothing at all to do with you, or the way you called him a good man, or the way the tips of his ears went hot with it.

Not getting to talk to you for a week straight in the evenings almost becomes worth it.

It has nothing at all to do with that big lonely hole in his heart, or the memories that snagged like sharp teeth at the edge of that wound.

The mines are way out past the edge of town.

It’s a long damn walk there and back. The morning is pitch black when he sinks into the cold earth, and only dregs of light are left when he comes back up in the evenings.

But the town, when he draws near, sparkles with light, bright with moonlight reflected on the snow that won’t seem to melt, even as April begins to creep in.

Spring should be well on its way, but the world still smells frozen and bruised, like pine needles and coal dust and the enduringly brutal cold.

Most that stay in town are just passing through town, on their way to somewhere else. He finds he doesn’t mind being the only permanent fixture at your place.

Some of them are all right, most of them really, but a few make him wary. He worries about you, though you don’t seem concerned about being alone. He supposes you did it long before he got there, and you’ll do it after he leaves.

They’re gone within days, anyway, so he doesn’t say anything about it. But he wants to, the words like bubbles that want to pop in the back of his throat. He wants to tell you to be careful and not so friendly.

He’s exhausted by the time he makes his way to the basement door, folds away his coal encrusted oversuit and rises off the worst of the sweat and dust quick. He’ll take a proper shower later.

You and him have fallen into a routine the last couple months, the fine sharp edge of April waiting just around the corner, and with it the hopes for warmer weather, that the temperatures will rise and the wind won’t bite quite so harshly.

There’s always something hot waiting for him on the table, even if you aren’t there to see to it. Most nights you’re there, but you are busy. More times than not lately, you’re somewhere else, doing something else, maybe like you’re trying to unstick yourself from him just a little. But you’re just busy, popular in town as a local, a regular nearly everywhere.

He always sits with you when he gets the chance, eats with you. He likes to. It keeps his mind off of what he’d left behind, what he lost.

Just like working himself to death all day does. It’s hard to think beyond the physical, backbreaking pain of the labor to what lay in back in Texas.

You and him create a routine together, solid and steady.

When it’s interrupted, he hates to admit it burns.

It hadn’t taken him long to realize that you are profoundly lonely, despite the plethora of people in and out of your life—the visitors and guests, but the townspeople, too. You’re a regular everywhere, and somehow always alone.

You’re friends with the baker next door, at least. As far as he can tell, she’s the only person you’re really close with in the town.

The baker has started coming to the back door in the morning, a sly smile on her face that he’s not particularly keen on. He has started taking the basket from her, answering the knock that never waited to be answered, the door always pushed in before either of you could get to it, a basket of fresh bread and the pepperoni rolls he’d started buying off her weeks before to appease you.

He forgets to eat more than he ever has before. It just doesn’t seem to matter.

A couple times a week, you sit down to cards and cigarettes and drinks with the baker. He listens to the gossip from the front room, a book with words that blur and never sink in propped on his knee. To hear the two of you together, it makes something in his throat close.

He usually has Sundays off, days where he’d climb out into the great unknown of the valleys and hills that surround the picturesque town, almost village-like with all its holiday lights still strung up to keep the long dark days of the enduring winter season at bay, and, rifle in hand, go hunting.

It’s illegal to go hunting on Sundays, but you assure him no one cares as long as it’s after the church services are over.

He never manages to get a shot off anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.

Everytime he thinks he’ll be able to lift the gun to his shoulder and pull the trigger at the creature sighted in the scope, he doesn’t, he can’t. He sees his daughter instead. He sees Sarah’s closed coffin; he sees her bloodied face, shards of glass spread around her like a halo of sparkling snow; he sees her blonde hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, tubes crawling in and out of her mouth and chest and arms.

And all Joel has to show for it is a scar across the bridge of his nose, a tight pinch in his right shoulder that hadn’t been there before.

There are a lot of deer around, but birds, too, ducks and geese, rabbits, foxes. All of them remind him of his kid and so the rifle remains unused. He can’t help but feel like he might be killing his kid all over again.

The basement is dark and chilled when he gets in, but not cold or damp. Snow crumbles from his boots and leaves an icy shine behind. There’s a broom beside the door and he does his best to sweep the mess to the drain in the center of the basement floor.

Something weary weighs on him. He feels heavy all the time, tired beyond belief, and like a hole might open up in his chest at any moment, like the heart of him might slip out, bloody and mangled, right onto the floor.

This isn’t the first town he’s stumbled onto, lost and wandering, unable to stay in Texas without thinking of his girl. It is the first town he’s stayed in longer than a week.

It’s been near a year since she passed in that hospital, machines turned off, chest ceasing to rise and fall.

He thought he could take it, be strong, be there as his child died right in front of him.

He’d had to agree to it after all, sign all the right papers and talk to all the right people, and get a thousand and one second opinions from all kinds of doctors to be sure.

No brain activity. No chance of ever waking up. Hung in limbo forever, and he couldn’t abide that, that maybe she was in pain and trying to move on and leave and find rest and he wasn’t letting her.

They assured him that she would not feel a thing, and that was good, but no one warned him that he would be the one taking it all on. It felt like being carved open, split down the middle, like he was raw and turned inside out and someone was holding a hot needle to his lungs.

He hadn’t been able to help the way he fell to his knees and howled, sobbed.

So, after the funeral, he sold his house and left. Did odd jobs and backbreaking seasonal work for almost a year, a different town every week, until he stumbled on this mining town, deep in the hills of some place long forgotten.

By the looks of the buildings, it might have been busy once, trains and visitors and people, but the mines feel like they’ve been there since the beginning of time. There’s something ancient in the air and down in the deep earth.

Maybe he stays because he got into town on the anniversary of the accident.

He’s goddamn stupid if he doesn’t think it has nothing to do with you, though.

Joel should have already moved on when he heard about your little inn, in the bar down the street, but snow had moved in, so thick and white, he couldn’t see more than an inch in front of his face. The roads would be bad for days after, the least he could do was get away from that shitty company housing while he waited, and get a few more days of pay.

But the roads cleared, and a week passed, and then another, and another, and he still hasn’t met that urge to keep moving, to put space between him and Sarah. He only thinks of her when he’s trying to sleep, and those fateful Sundays.

The kitchen is empty and cold when he closes the basement door behind him, a thin wind spiraling in from the cracked open back door.

The porch is dark but the outline of you is clear, sitting on the plastic-covered porch swing with a cigarette between your fingers. “Those things’ll kill ya they say,” he says by way of greeting, leaning against the siding.

“And what exactly do you go breathing in everyday down in them mines that’s so healthy?” There’s a snap in your voice that usually isn’t there, that mean streak that lashes out from time to time.

Joel pulls the door almost shut, shuts the little bit of light leaking outside away. “Are you all right?”

“Sorry.”

“S’okay,” he says. “Should I leave ya?”

It takes a minute for you to answer. “Get a coat and come sit.” After a second you add, “If y’want.”

So he gets a coat and sits next to you on the swing. The plastic crinkles under his thighs. “Do you smoke?”

“I used to.” He should leave it at that but more words follow that he doesn’t intend. “Stopped years ago, a couple months before my - my daughter was born.” He falters a little on the words.

Joel braces himself, stiffens, all the bone and muscle inside of him going deadly tight, waiting for the inevitable questioning. Maybe you don’t care to ask or maybe you feel him tense or hear something in his voice because you don’t ask.

Something pricks at him, disappointment maybe.

“Well, it’s just us here,” you say simply. “You want one?”

Sarah never knew he smoked.

He takes the one you offer and the packet of matches.

“I don’t usually,” you say without prompting. “Smoke, that is. Sometimes when I drink.”

Joel takes a long drag and holds it in his lungs for a long minute. It feels good and tastes as bad as he remembers. “Card night.”

You smile at him, cigarette slowly brought to your lips. “That’s right.”

He almost asks what it is that has you smoking without your friend, but he figures you’re about to tell him anyway. You talk a lot. He likes that about you.

So he waits.

And you don’t say anything.

There’s just a long melancholy silence where your words normally are.

On a usual evening, he comes upstairs and bothers you about letting him help you some way. You don’t like letting people help you, like it even less when he just does it anyway.

On a usual evening, he’s threatened with expulsion from the kitchen, and then gets caught up on local dramas, some of which he is beginning to understand, while he sits at the table with a cup of coffee and you pretend to never need help.

The snow makes a sound as it hits the piles of the stuff that has yet to melt, frozen hard and unforgiving everywhere.

He’s never been around snow, much less sat outside as it fell.

The whole world goes quiet with it, like he got sucked into a black hole and sound got swallowed up around nothing.

And in the silence, he can hear the individual plunks of each flake settling onto the frozen ground. He wouldn’t have thought it made a sound at all.

“You sure you’re all right?” He asks and slips one arm across the back of the swing, realizing that you never answered him in the first place.

You just draw in another long breath and inch closer to him on the swing.

Maybe he’s not as crazy as he thought. When you look at him, there’s something in your eyes, a grief that he feels reflected back in your eyes, sharp like a tack shoved into the delicate skin between thumb and forefinger.

The ache in his chest is present on your face.

“Just one of those days,” you say and smile. “Sorry I’m not myself.”

You’re plenty yourself, just muted. Quiet.

He does quiet pretty well, so you just sit there and listen to the snow, breathe it in, shudder against his arm until he just wraps it around you, trying not to put too much thought into it.

You don’t look at him. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

He’s not sure how long you sit there. He just knows he’s numb when your hand covers his, your fingers feel hot against the freezing ache that’s set in.

“My dad was a miner. Pretty much everybody is around here, I guess. Those mines,” you say and shake your head. “They give. We wouldn’t exist without ‘em, but they take too. They take what they think they’re owed in the end. You can’t take that much out of Earth that old and expect nothin’ bad.” You hesitate for a long moment but when Joel squeezes your hand, you continue. “My dad died in a mine collapse around this time a couple years ago. So I guess that’s what I'm thinkin’ about today.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and, slowly, your head tips against his shoulder. The cigarettes are stubbed out, the butts deposited in an ashtray. “Usually, this time of year all the snow is already gone. And then the rains come and everything floods. And that spring, the mine collapsed with it.”

He thinks of telling you of his own grief, his own loss, and the way he ran away from it. The way he’s still trying to run away from it. But something sharp twinges in his chest and he stays silent. Layering his grief over yours wouldn’t help no one, least of all you.

Telling someone about her, someone who didn’t know her, having to describe her — he wants to, and can’t imagine doing it, all in one.

Maybe it isn’t right to, anyway.

Instead, he squeezes your hand, tilts his chin against your forehead. “You always run this place?”

“No. Back when there were people still passing through, my aunt did. It’s not like there’s much else to do around here so I just decided to keep it going when she left.”

“It’s nice.”

“Think so? One day it’ll be a five star hotel.”

He chuckles. “I don’t doubt it. Almost too rich for my blood now.”

“Honorary guest,” you disagree. “Always. Room reserved for you, just in case.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious,” you laugh and relax fully against his shoulder; the tension bleeds out of you, the curve of you spilling softly into him.

You sit like that for a long time, until the snow stops coming down.

It’s then that the world does go silent as a grave, like the two of you are the last people alive.

“It’s been real nice havin’ you here,” you say suddenly and quietly, like someone might hear, like you might disturb him. The puff of your breath clouds, crystalizes in front of him like something physical he might pluck from the air and put in his pocket.

Glad to have been here, glad to be here, he wants to say and doesn’t. It feels wrong to be glad to be anywhere at all.

When you tilt your face up, your eyes are soft. He doesn’t even think about it.

He just kisses you.

You taste like blackberries, dark sweet and sour. The cigarette on your tongue is only an afterthought. The sound you make when he cups your head in his hands and tips it back, rehomes itself in his chest.

When he pulls you into himself, you sigh.

Five days later, it’s a Sunday. Another snowstorm is passing through the hills, and any snow that had managed to melt that week comes right back.

Joel only realizes when he’s brushing his teeth—preoccupied with thinking about maybe not going hunting for once, and cleaning the damn rifle instead—that it’s unusually cold. He rinses his mouth out and goes to find you.

The steps creak and crack as he descends them, like they’re covered in a spiderwebbed ice that might split and send him into some achingly cold depth if he isn’t careful.

He finds you bundled up in a coat by the backdoor, a scarf wound halfway up your face, just your eyes visible above the fabric.

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice muffled and eyes wide. “The heating went out and there’s nothin’ to be done about it until the snow clears up a little and it ain’t supposed to until tomorrow.” You shake your head. “Never snows this goddamn much or this late in the season,” you gripe, a bitterness in your voice.

“Well, that ain’t your fault,” he says, watching you wiggle your fingers into a pair of gloves. He thinks you’re just layering up, but when you reach for your boots by the back door it becomes apparent that you intend to go outside. “And just where do you think you’re goin’?”

You pick up a basket next and reach for the doorknob. “I need wood for the fireplace—”

“Then let me get it for ya,” he says, stepping into his own boots, tugging the basket out of your hands as he goes. “You’ll freeze out there.”

“No, Joel, you’re a guest here—”

“C’mon,” he says. “It ain’t like that now and you know it.” You don’t say anything but when he looks up, you’re frowning at him. “We got anyone else around?”

“Just—it’s just me and you.”

He doesn’t know why you sound so upset about it. “Good. Now where’s the wood?”

You blink and glance away, pulling at your gloves nervously. “In the shed. Should be enough little pieces but the ax is by the door if some of it needs broken up.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll have some coffee ready for you.”

“You don’t gotta do that.” He opens the door, snow swirls in.

“I’m doin’ it anyway.” Then. “Joel?”

He turns.

“Thanks.”

He’s not sure what he’s being thanked for and you still aren’t really looking at him, so he nods and plunges into the white blur that is the back yard, the whip of blizzard wind harsh against his face.

Inside the shed he finds that more of the wood does need axed.

He can’t get the way you looked at him out of his mind. You’ve been busy the last couple days, always out or taking care of something, pushing away any of his attempts to. . .what? He isn’t sure. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he made things complicated, messed something up along the way.

He fears that pushing has nothing to do with the grief that had made a home on your face that evening you spent on the porch together, but what came after and what he hadn’t said.

You have been different too. Like something wary and stiff.

He chops the wood, feels every lift and swing of the ax. It seems to ache more in the cold. Everything does.

Joel shoves the wood into the basket and stacks the extra pieces back onto the pile. The house is marginally warmer than outside without the brutal slice of the wind. He leaves his boots by the back door and finds you poking around in the grate of the fireplace.

You back away when he approaches and it stings that you do.

“Somethin’ the matter?”

“No. ‘Course not.”

But there is. Some kind of wall went up between you the other night. He should have said something. “All right. I’m, uh, I’m gonna get outta your hair for a while.”

He doesn’t think of being in a blizzard, just that he needs to get out of your house before you ask him out of it, before you kick him out of it.

The only thing he can think is that he doesn’t mean shit to you. Somewhere along the way, things got messed up, like they always do. His ex-wife’s face flashes behind his eyes, all that happened with her, all of it that always seemed to be his fault.

Joel grabs his gear and goes out into the blue-white of the snow and makes his usual trek to a spot up in the hills. He sits with his back to a tree and listens to the way the weather beats down. The metal of the rifle goes ice cold between his knees, the bluster of the wind coats him in a perfect white.

He might just be the only living thing out. The world is quiet apart from that brutal, beautiful shush of wind through trees and snow through air.

He’d be ashamed to admit it, but the only thing he thinks about that day, is you.

Joel’s hair is still damp and curling lightly against the back of his neck when he finds his way to the kitchen.

He’d come back frozen to the bone, ice in his hair and eyebrows and the webbing of his lashes. It’s all melted now, and you have to resist the urge to reach out and touch him there, the back of his neck where you know his skin is soft, the feathery thick hair that grows a little long these days.

“You have a minute?” Joel asks, right hand toying with the strap of his watch. He’s looking at you the way he always does lately, like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. A stab of guilt rakes pointed talons along your belly.

You did that, you always do that.

Stop it, you think. Don’t do that this time.

“Hey,” you nod, trying. “Sure, I do. Was gonna ask you to come sit with me anyhow.”

He pauses, takes the cup of coffee when you extend it to him, fresh brewed, a peace offering of sorts. Peace over what, you don’t know. “Y’were?” He sounds surprised, takes the cup from you, his fingers brushing yours.

“Sure,” you answer, swiping your hand over your thigh. His gaze follows. “It’s just s’cold upstairs. Electricity’ll be out ‘til tomorrow probably. At the earliest. So.”

He nods and looks down into his cup and you feel bad about the last week again. Of how you’re pushing again and don’t know how to stop. You held him at arm's length, made sure you were out and busy and away, watched him stop smiling at you again, replaced instead by uncertainty.

It’s unfair.

He should probably hate you over it.

You wonder why he’s still here.

When he looks up at you, you smile and his shoulders relax marginally. “All right. I’m gonna get more wood, then I’ll be there.”

You show him the bottle of whiskey when he comes back inside, smelling of frozen air and pine. “Just to stay warm,” you promise.

He doesn’t say no to the drink you pour him, or the way you inch closer to him.

Because it’s cold, you tell yourself, just like it had been on the porch that other time.

The pull of longing in your chest hasn’t eased since then. You shouldn’t have let him, you’re bad at hanging on to people and afraid they’ll disappear, and you’d rather hurt by choice. You’d rather be alone and ache.

But Joel is here and real and still in front of you, still looking at you.

It’s terrible because he wants you to know things about him and you want to run away. You want to push him away, until he leaves or hates you or both. He brought up his daughter and even though you think it might have been an accident, you think he might have wanted you to ask about her.

And you hadn’t.

He doesn’t make it any easier on you by being warm and solid and pressing an offering open arm along the back of the couch.

Just like the other time.

You accept it, because it's cold. Just because it’s cold.

It has nothing at all to do with the way he strokes your shoulder and tugs you close to him, the way his head tilts down over yours when you press the cold tip of your nose into his neck by accident and then leave it there on purpose.

You aren’t expecting him to say anything. The guttering of the candles lulls you to sleep, the pepper of white snow against the black swirl outside soothing. “You know,” the sound of his voice rumbles against your ear. “I didn’t know snow made noise.”

You blink. “What?”

“That sound it makes. When it’s real quiet, you can hear it land.”

“Suppose you can, yeah.”

“My daughter,” he starts and your breath hitches. The broken eggshell of memory delicately being pressed into the palms of your hands. You’re being trusted with something. “She only saw snow once, I think. Real slushy and wet. Not like you get around here. And I don’t remember it makin’ a noise.”

You swallow the instinct to change the subject, to say something dismissive, to push and push.

“Did she like it?” You ask after a moment. “The snow?”

“Yep. Got off from school. Made the world’s tiniest snowman. Maybe only a foot high. Made snow angels that turned out to be more mud than snow. My brother thought that was real funny.”

You laugh and lean into his shoulder. He smells like snow and damp cotton and gun oil. “What’s her name?”

Assuming. No, hoping. You are hoping that he’s just missing her, that the chipped china memory in your palm is of a girl he misses and doesn’t mourn. But you could tell the other day, you could tell by his voice and the way he isn’t with her. If he had a choice, he’d be with her.

Joel isn’t like you.

He’s not the kind to leave someone behind.

He clears his throat. “Sarah. She was, uh, she was twelve.”

“Oh. Oh, Joel. I’m sorry.”

And you are. That is a loss no one should ever know, and Joel is not the kind to carry it well. It leaves those purple circles under his eyes, burrows deep ruts into the arteries to his heart, half his blood just drained away. It leaves the coffee pot empty, it whispers fourteen hour work days, and still no sleep.

It pushes a rifle into hands that always come back without game.

“Anyway, I think she would have liked this shit,” he gestures to the snow beyond the window with the mug in his hand, coffee and whiskey. “Think she would have liked it here.”

“It’s okay, when you get to know the place.” You follow his eyes. “It’s home, anyway.”

“Yeah,” he says. “It is.”

What part he’s agreeing with, you aren’t sure you want to know.

He looks at you again, and you can’t bear to meet his gaze through the dark that’s fallen on the room, to see too deeply into what lay there. Sharing his daughter with you, that she died so young. A lot of things about him suddenly fall into place in your mind.

The grief and the love with no place to go. It makes sense why he’s there, running away from something that could never be ignored.

You take the cup from him and pull him up by the hand.

He fits against you, pulled in tight, so easily. You feel the brush of his mouth against your cheek, his fingers against your back.

You sway, and there’s no music. You want to say that you’re sorry again. Not for his daughter, because he wouldn’t want to hear it, but for everything else — the running you’re both doing, the snow and the cold, and how clear it is that everything in the world looks like grief and loss and the big hole in his chest.

“I think you should ask Joel to get a drink.”

Janie pauses mid-chop, knife hanging in the air. Your friend the baker turns to look at you over her shoulder. “What did you just say?”

You wince and fiddle with the edge of your sweater. “Joel. You should ask him.”

“Now why,” she starts, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Would I go and do somethin’ like that?”

“Well, I think y’all would be good together—”

She sighs heavy and long, rolling her eyes as she sits down across from you and takes your hand in hers, still wet from rinsing the vegetables off. “You’re doin’ it again, you know.”

“Doin’ what?” You snap, yanking your hand back, accusatory.

“As soon as you think somebody is getting too close you push ‘em away. I know you know what you’re doin’. And I know if I hadn’t had the sense to hold onto you so hard all them years ago, you woulda done the same to me. And we’d just be neighbors.”

She raises a brow at you when you sputter. But it’s true. You know it’s true.

It happens all the time, with everyone. It always hits you so hard, the sudden smothered feeling, the scared, confused, cornered animal feeling, when hanging onto something seemed impossible and wrong.

“You know that man don’t want nothin’ to do with me.”

“He always answers the door to you in the mornings,” you defend weakly.

“As a favor to you. He does everything for you, and I know you noticed or you wouldn’t be trying to pass him off on me. You don’t gotta be so avoidant. Not everything disappears.”

You know, but you what you don’t know is how to stop it. The sharp talons and fangs that spring out whenever someone gets too close are always a surprise. You hate it when people care about you, when you care about them.

It’s like there’s a box around you, growing smaller with each passing second. So, you flee, before the box crushes you, or before the thing trapped in there with you gets to do it first.

That’s what you’re really afraid of, after all, not that someone might care about you, but that they one day might stop.

“I told him about my dad,” you admit.

Janie freezes, blinks, and then looks over at you. You look back at her, miserable about it. “Oh, honey.”

“And he. . .you shoulda seen the way he—” The way he looked at you. You almost tell her about Sarah, but don’t. That loss isn’t yours to tell, no matter what, even if it would tell her exactly how close he’s drifted to you.

You don’t know what to call it, anyway. The way he looked at you the night of the snowstorm, the air chilled and the whole world cold except for the two of you pressed together. His hand in yours, the mocking remembrance that you had forgotten in that moment to feel trapped.

No, that had come later. When you couldn’t breathe before going to bed, when your skin felt pinched and tight. That moment is tinged in your mind with the heaviness of a hand pinching the back of your neck, instead of the gentle press of fingers to your spine, his mouth against your cheek but not your lips, not again.

“He’ll leave soon and it won’t matter,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “He’s got to be goin’ soon. I know it.”

She pats your hands again, pity in her gaze. “It will matter, and you know it. But it seems to me he’s stuck. And it isn’t this town or those mines that are keeping him here. He wants to hang on. You should, too, for once. He’s looked like nothin’ but a kicked dog lately, and one that might bite at that.”

The snow melts over the next couple of weeks, temperatures rise rapidly. For a while, the sun shines, the weather is nice; the skies a purest bluest blue.

Joel doesn’t leave.

He smokes more on the back porch, his eyes far away and haloed with something distant. He stops hunting on Sundays, and starts going fishing at the lake instead, and unlike before he brings back a haul.

For a minute, it seems like things might be okay. You don’t allow yourself to have any more quiet, secret moments with him, but you don’t push either. You try not to push.

But you wonder if he wants that, if he might have wanted to kiss you again when the heat went out and you were stupid enough to let yourself reel him back to you.

Then, one day, the rains come. Clouds so black they appear blue roll in and sit heavy in the sky for a day, winds whipping the leaves of the trees back so their bellies show. Old warnings about just how bad the weather was about to get.

The skies open up, and the rain doesn’t stop.

For weeks.

Suddenly all anyone can talk about are the floods and the landslides that are likely to happen any day.

You wish they wouldn’t, or at least not to you, or have the decency not to look at you with pity when they talk about it. What if there’s a mine collapse? Well, you think, that too is likely.

The creeks swell until they look like rivers; the rivers glut themselves with so much rainwater the levees threaten to bend and break, the banks of the lake disappear, silt stirred so deeply that the whole lake goes brown with it.

Joel stops fishing.

You expect them to close the mines, at least for a while. But the coal companies have never cared about any of you, and they weren’t about to start.

“Mornin’,” he says, his voice a soft grumbling rumble.

“Hi,” you say, not turning away from your spot by the window, watching the rain pour down seemingly harder.

The rain and all it could wash away, makes you anxious. Makes the whole town anxious. Flooded river plains and lake shores, mountainsides crumbling down to sweep everything away. It’s embedded in you, something your body learned generations before you were born.

A generational curse, a landscape that could steal everything, that had and would again.

“You okay?”

The sound of the coffee pot sliding out of place, liquid being poured, ceramic clicking down onto the counter.

“Yeah. The rain makes me anxious.”

“All anyone talks about are the floods.”

“Same way every year,” you shrug, like it doesn’t keep you awake at night. Like you haven’t stopped sleeping and pace all night long. “Hard thing to forget, once it happens to you.”

Joel makes a soft noise in the back of his throat and joins you at the window. “It’s gettin’ lighter every day, at least.”

You think he means it to comfort you.

“The sound, though.”

The sound of rain tapping at the window is like nails on a chalkboard — warning.

He covers your hand with his for just a second, the squeeze of his fingers around yours barely felt. “I know.”

Too close.

It’s too close.

You don’t want him to know that.

You move your hand before his skin has fully left yours, jerking away like you’ve been stung.

He clears his throat and shifts, floorboards squeaking awkwardly beneath his socked feet.

Socked feet. Hand on yours, rough skin against yours. Tender words, gentle tone.

It all feels like he knows too much, wants too much. You take a step away from the warmth he radiates under the guise of reaching for the handle of the dishwasher. “You think you’ll be movin’ on soon?”

A surprised silence follows your words. “What?”

“It’s just you been here awhile.”

He doesn’t answer and you start to unload the dishwasher, carefully stacking the ceramic on the counter even though you’d normally just put them up in the cabinets. “Big waste of money, stayin’ somewhere like here for so long. If you’re waitin’ for better pay or something, I can tell you it won’t happen. Not even if you talk to the union.”

A long silence follows your words. It’s a buzzing, angry silence. “You ain’t even gonna look at me?”

You shrug and your body continues on autopilot, still not looking at him, stacking dishes one after another.

Clink, click, clink.

The door to the basement doesn’t exactly slam, but it shuts much harder than usual.

You sit the mug in your shaking hands down on the counter and stare at it without seeing.

The pressure in your chest isn’t gone. It never is, after. You push and push and push, until they finally let go. And then the loneliness and pain rub their hands together and slip back into their comfortable home in your chest. It’s almost a relief to have it back.

God, why does someone knowing something about you, caring about you, feel like getting your arteries ripped out, one fine line at a time? Why does it feel like your skin is shrinking and your throat is closing up?

Your eyes sting and you wish you wouldn’t have said it.

But you did and he’d be on his way soon enough and everything would be simple again.

You can remain in your little box all alone with carefully constructed walls that push everyone to the periphery of your life. They belong at arms length where you believe it won’t hurt you when they leave, where you convince yourself you’ll have enough time to recognize the signs and do it first.

He can’t get any closer, can’t see anymore than he already has.

Joel has to leave. You have to push him away, before he makes the choice himself and leaves you bleeding.

But Joel isn’t like you, you think again. He’s not the kind to leave someone behind.

The rain comes down harder.

The house rattles with it.

You think about the mines flooding, and finally cry.

Joel doesn’t leave, but you can tell he’s trying to figure out how to. He’s trying to leave because you want him to, and that’s what matters.

You don’t know how he picks where to roam next and you don’t care. You’re glad he’s going to leave.

He doesn’t eat dinner with you anymore, barely nods at you when you see him though you try to be busy with something else when he comes in in the evenings, or not in the kitchen at all, not in the house at all.

Joel leaves so early in the morning that you don’t see him then either. The ache that slices like a knife through the ventricles of your heart tears open a little wider each day. He makes the coffee now, and always makes enough for you, too, the pot left on to keep it warm for you. One morning you find an envelope in the center of your kitchen table.

Panic overcomes you, until you open it and find a week’s worth of money. Scrawled on the outside, I’m sorry to keep imposing.

You rip the envelope up, angry, because you don’t want to think about what it means that you got scared. Fear that he had already been gone.

Near a week later, late in the afternoon, when the sky is a deep purple, Janie knocks on your backdoor. Her voice is frantic. She smells like raw flour and sliced apples.

There’s mud on her boots and that’s the only thing you can think of as she talks at you, her voice far away.

You think about the mud on her boots and her boots on your floor and how she always takes them off on the porch no matter what.

She’s still talking, words flowing a million miles an hour, and you just think about the smell of bread and how she normally, always, takes her boots off.

She shakes you by the shoulders suddenly, hands clamped tight against your skin. “Did you hear me?” She asks urgently. “One of the mines collapsed.”

“Which one?” You snap, reality snapping sharply into relief. “Which one? They're all shut down but one. Which one?”

One that is empty, or not? The one with people, or not? The one with Joel, or not?

“I don’t know. Nobody seems to know but—”

You pull your raincoat off the hook by the door and shove your feet into the first pair of shoes you see, and dart out and into the rain, the hale of it cold against your skin and your face.

It’s been a cold year. This time last year, it was warm and sunny already, things like a mine collapse a far off, unreal, non-possibility.

The mud sucks at your boots but soon enough you’re on the road and running.

You run and run and don’t feel the burn in your lungs or the pain in your thighs. There’s nothing that will keep you from getting there. The town is small and built in relation to the mines.

You’ve always been a mining town and so it’s not far. It shouldn’t take you long to get there.

Joel walks in the mornings. It’s not far.

But time moves slow, and your body seems to move even slower than that.

Shouldn’t you have known? Shouldn’t you have felt something? The beating heart of the earth tearing something away; that primordial, knowing pit taking back what had been taken from it? What it was owed in return?

Not him. Not him.

He didn’t owe this stretch of Earth anything. And it is not owed him.

The hills and mountains rise up around you, the comforting presence of them, like ancient, silent sentries, suddenly loom a little more sinister. Crumbling and old and vengeful, just waiting to swing a fist down on something you cared about, something you loved, something you always try to push away. Because it would always be destroyed. The town, or a neighbor’s house, or the banks of the swollen river and lake eating up precious farmland.

That’s one thing, though.

Towns and houses can be rebuilt, the banks of rivers and lakes and the sides of mountains reinforced — other things, well, you can never get back.

He has to be okay. When you wanted him to leave, this is not what you meant. This is not what you wanted.

You move backwards in your mind, mapping out all the times Joel has come home. Where he’d usually be in his journey to your house after work.

It used to be he only came home after dark, but spring has arrived and the sun stays longer each day, and you think you should meet him on the road. You should find him at any moment; unless the mine collapsed and he was unlucky, trapped and lost and suffocating; or lucky and already dead.

The road twists and turns. You have to slow because you live in the hills, everything and everywhere is steep. Your chest starts to burn and you wish the trees hadn’t started to get their leaves yet even though it's so late in the season because then you’d be able to see further, you’d be able to spot him earlier.

Maybe it’s too early for him to already be along the road.

Your coat is soaked and so is the little house dress you’re wearing. Your shins and ankles feel cold from the rain and the chill in the air.

But then you bolt around a bend, and there he is.

His name jumps out of your mouth, careens across the gravel road, and echoes around the valley through the din of the still falling rain. It sounds lush against the leaves. It sounds horrible against drain pipes and gravel.

He looks surprised right before you crash into him and lock your arms around his neck. He drops his backpack and catches you, arms circling you tightly.

“Joel.”

“Hey—” The sound of his voice makes your knees weak and you’re afraid for a moment you might slip to the ground, into the graveled mud, and dissolve along with the rain.

“The mine collapsed,” you say, feeling the grit of coal dust beneath your cheek, the warmth and weight of him leaning back into you, strong arms tight around you. His palm slides against the back of your neck, thumb stroking slowly.

“I know it.” His voice is gentle, like you’re a startled, feral dog that might turn on him at any second. “S’why I’m on my way back now.”

You start to shake and cry and he just rubs your back and tugs you more firmly into his chest. He seems to understand what’s wrong. His palm settles against the back of your neck, keeps you tucked in close to his chest as the rain continues to siphon down over you. It’s all right. I’m all right. He repeats and repeats and repeats. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.

“Hey,” he pulls back eventually, the cups of his palms cradling your face, pushing the tears away. “I’m gettin’ you all dirty.”

“I don’t care,” you grip his sleeves, press your hands over his. His face is streaked with gray so deep it appears purple, like there are bruises latticed over his face. “I don’t care. And I’m sorry.”

“All right.”

It’s too late, you think. Too little too late, pushed too far, and by your own hand, so you have no one to blame but yourself.

But he’s alive and he’s okay and something precious has not been reaped by the Earth.

You try to step back but he steps with you, not letting you go. Apologies swim to the back of your throat again, heavy on your tongue, but he’s already shaking his head at you.

Hazel eyes stare deep into yours, rivulets of water snaking down the side of his face, tracing through the coal and dirt. You don’t look away from him this time.

Your words get trapped, congested and clogged, sticky and stuck together.

“Joel—”

“Let’s get outta the rain.” His hands slide down your face, briefly slot against your throat, and then trail down your shoulders and arms. “Let’s do that at least. Before you catch your death.”

“Okay.”

You bend down to scoop his backpack off the ground, surprised because he lets you keep it and keeps his hand threaded with yours. His skin is wet against yours, the crinkle of your fingers together just a little uncomfortable.

The rain comes down harder, lightning sparks, the angry slash of violence through the sky, thunder crackling right after.

The walk goes quicker than your run. Time is moving at a normal pace again, you can breathe again.

“I’ll meet ya in the kitchen,” he says when the town and your street resolves itself. He turns and takes his pack from you, pinches your chin between thumb and forefinger and tilts your face up. “All right?”

You nod and release his other hand, and watch him walk away. You know the moment he reaches the back of the house because you hear the clatter of the basement door opening.

You just stand in the front yard for a long moment as shadow fall, as the rain continues down harder than ever.

The rain pounds against the side of the house, the windows when you step inside. The tree your neighbors have been telling you to cut down for years sways ominously, lashing the front window and the siding. The noise of it is awful.

You stand there, dripping pools of water onto the kitchen floor, anxiously waiting for Joel to come up the steps, like you’d gone and pulled a ghost right up out of the ground. He’s all right, you tell yourself. He’s all right. Real and not some ghost.

When he comes up the steps, his gaze flicks slowly over you. He holds a hand out. “C’mon. ‘S get you cleaned up.”

You’re shivering. The material of the dress clings to your skin like webbed silk.

It’s so pathetic, the way he comforts you and the way you want him to. You shouldn’t let it happen. You feel stupid, all that worry after all that pushing.

He follows you up two sets of stairs, to the third floor, the loft where you reside even though so many of the rooms below always remain empty.

Joel settles you on the edge of the bathtub in your little bathroom and fishes around in the cabinets until he finds what it is he’s looking for. He doesn’t ask you where anything is and you don’t offer.

He smells like earth and pine. He doesn’t complain or pull away when you touch that hollow place in his cheek, when you stroke his beard and watch the muscle jump, jaw clenching and releasing.

“Joel,” you say when he kneels in front of you with a washcloth in his hand, a first aid kit open on the bathroom counter. “I’m not hurt.”

He just pats the water away from your face and hands and arms. “Y’are. Musta ran through brambles or somethin’. Legs are all torn up.”

The surprise is muted when you look down and find you have been scratched all to hell.

“I’m sorry,” you offer.

He shrugs. “Nothin’ to apologize for.”

The way he takes care of you is meticulous. Disinfectant and ointment and bandages wrapped around and around. You probably would have just rinsed the cuts out and slapped the biggest band aid on and called it a day, but that’s not good enough for him and that makes you want to cry.

There’s only so long you can handle sitting there, shivering, feeling the press of his very warm hands into your cool, bruised skin, before you’re slipping to the floor too, kneeling with him, asking for forgiveness for something that doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry. And that’s not enough.”

“No.” Hands cupped around yours, stilling the anxious twist of them. “Shouldn’t’ve got so comfortable. I ain’t anyone to you—”

“But you are.”

The words bleed. They are red and bone white and raw and drop like stones between you. He thinks he means nothing. He doesn’t know. “You are. You are. And that’s why.”

Thunder rumbles, and this time, you kiss him.

There’s only a brief second of hesitation.

But then he pulls you in and doesn’t let go, doesn’t complain of the cool tiles and your cooler hands or the way you pull at his clothes.

Joel does jump when you press your hands to the small of his back, when your iced over fingers skim his belly, when you finally get to rake your nails against that coarse chest hair that makes your mouth go dry.

“Hey,” he’s cradling you to him, mouth desperate and eyes wild. “I’m here.”

Go easy with it, his voice asks. Go easy with me.

You knock your forehead against his. “I know.”

Joel nods and his fingers skim up your thighs, beneath the clinging material of your dress. He’s so warm, even though he’d been in the rain too, and his skin feels like it's burning, like the tips of his fingers might sink right down into your flesh.

Cloth parts beneath desperate hands. He cups your breasts in his palms, follows with his lips. Fingers tug your underwear down your legs, and then slide through the core of you, circling and stroking.

It should be a surprise that he’s so delicate with you, but it isn’t.

He kisses you again, his beard scratching pleasantly along your skin. You gasp into him and let him lie you back against the bathroom floor.

The rain continues outside, the lashing the house is getting a far off dream.

The only real thing in the world is Joel, his shoulders beneath your thighs, the clench of your belly, the ache that spreads everywhere.

He presses his forehead to yours when he’s inside you, eyes closed, jaw clenched.

Joel’s mouth parts, he groans into you.

It’s enough.

“Did you know that crows mate for life?”

Joel looks over at you.

Morning is sitting heavily on the windowsill, watching.

His limbs are heavy, sleep pulling at the corners of his vision, darkening the room and dampening the sound of the still falling rain. Your bed is comfortable, and your naked skin pressed to his even more so. “No,” he answers after a minute, just looking at the picture of you, plush curves, the soft spill of softer skin. “Do they?”

You roll onto your side, watchful eyes riveted to him. Slowly, maybe a little shyly, you stretch your arm across his belly. Your fingertips brush his side, and you use the grip to pull yourself even closer. The light is kind to you. You glow in it, lips swollen, the discoloration on your throat from his lips and beard highlighted.

Joel touches you there. You close your eyes for a moment.

“They do. They’re real social creatures, and when their mate dies they make this god awful noise. Sometimes they’ll carry sticks and stones and stuff to leave with the body, like a burial.”

“Mm. Not so different from people.” He thinks of Sarah, the last rise and fall of her chest, the noise that came out of him like something wrenched out of the bottom of his soul. He clears his throat but his voice still cracks a little. “Yeah, reckon we’re the same that way.”

You prop your chin on his shoulder. “Yeah,” you say, voice soft. “There used to be a flock that came around. Or, whatever they’re called, a murder, I think.”

“Murder?” He chuckles and you smile and it’s enough.

“Never heard of a murder of crows? Well, it’s true. The backyard was full of ‘em. For a long time, I fed ‘em. And they’d bring presents to me. Eventually they musta moved on, but a pair stayed. I know I sound crazy but I could tell they were in love. They were mated anyhow, even if they don’t feel love like people do.” You lean into his hand when he presses it to your cheek, like his skin isn’t rough and dry from working so hard, from the long, bitter winter; you lean in like it means something, like the pass of his thumb against the crest of your cheek means more to you than he can know.

He doesn’t know a thing about crows. It doesn’t really matter that he doesn’t, he has a feeling he already knows what you’re going to say.

The limbo he’s been in for weeks has finally ended, of knowing you wanted him to leave but not able to figure out how to give you what you wanted and feeling guilty for it. Just another person he couldn’t figure out how to love right.

Maybe this time hanging on was the right thing to do.

Your eyes flutter closed, head tilted close to his on the pillow, the swell of your body pressed to his. “It went on like that for years. I fed them and they brought me little gifts and everything was fine. And then one morning, there was only one. They mate for life. I never saw the other one again, and it was only a couple weeks, before the other one was gone too. It died.”

Joel leans in, presses his forehead to yours, the rain a painful tattoo against the roof and the windows and the whole wide world. You push into him, returning the comforting pressure, your skin still tacky with sweat. “So you see, I try to avoid being the second crow. But it just means I end up alone and wondering why there was never another crow in the first place.” Your eyes flick open and search his. “So, I’m sorry about everything. I never realize I’m — I don’t know I’m pushing until it’s too late. And I’ve never been good at holdin’ on.”

“I guess I’ve never been too good at lettin’ go,” he admits. “I’m the second crow.”

“I don’t want you to be,” you say. “I don’t want you to be the one left behind. And I don’t want you to leave.”

He nods and looks up at your ceiling. Carefully, you slide closer, until your head is heavy against his chest.

Things change a little.

The rain stops and with it you stop pacing through the nights. Before, he’d listen to the pace of your footsteps against his ceiling, the crack of old floorboards and the snaking sound of water down window panes.

You make every pretense of things being the same until night comes along and you ask him to stay with you. “I just won’t be able to stand it,” you say, nervous hands fisting around the edges of your sleeves. “If you go back to being just a guest. You mean more than that.”

He’s embarrassed to hear it, and likes to hear it all the same.

So, now, he listens to the long overdue hum of springtime insects nestled down into long sweet grass and between the branches of gently swaying trees, like all that snow and rain and blizzards and flooding never existed in the first place.

Most of all he listens to your breathing, slow and even, to replace the sound of your footsteps. The curve of your spine rests against his bicep, the ridge of it like the comforting heel of the mountains beyond your windows.

When he turns and tucks his arms around you, you relax and melt into him so easily it’s like it’s always been done.

So it goes, every single night.

Winter is over, spring arrives quiet.

Joel agrees to go to the town festival with you. Tiny, even by your standards, apparently.

Just some drinking and dancing and live music from a local band. A few games, for which the prizes are all donated.

Things go fine.

He doesn’t mind crowds, though he does prefer to hang on the edges of them.

The night is mild. Your arm repeatedly brushes his.

Joel finds he doesn’t mind that either, the way you stand so close and look at just him. There’s no shortage of eyes on either of you. And when you kiss him, he can practically feel the small town gossip sparkling and wasping in the air like lightning gold, like a thousand bees.

You don’t seem to notice, or maybe you don’t much care. Maybe you’re used to it.

Either way, you’re happy, and that matters to him. It matters to him that you’re happy, and safe, and that you feel those things with him.

“If you’re still here when its warm enough,” you say, “you’ll have to go swimming in the lake. It’s real nice down there.”

It already feels like summer. The air is balmy, the sinking, fading sun he feels like he hadn’t seen in months a red blaze on the horizon.

“Where else would I be?”

You give him a funny look and sip your drink, enthusiastically greeting a couple who approaches. Joel nods at them, takes a swig of his beer, and thinks of his kid. Sarah would have loved this kind of thing, all the people and noise.

He hasn't been hunting in weeks.

“You wanna dance with me?” You smile at him. “Just for one song.”

“Think I’ll say no?”

“I’m actually sure that you’ll say no, Joel.”

He just sets his drink down and offers you a hand. You grin so wide, it looks like it must hurt your cheeks. You don’t dance so much as sway together, pressed tightly together.

“Where else would I be?” He asks again.

“Somewhere else, I guess. Back home.”

Home. He hasn’t had one of those since Sarah died.

This place, as brutal an introduction as he’s had to it, is starting to feel like home. He wants to see the lake in the summer and the trees thick with leaves. The hills probably look beautiful, emerald forests not yet torn up for the things that laid beneath.

It only feels a little like a push.

Instead, he just says, “Yeah. Sure.”

You tip your chin heavily against his shoulder, the weight of your head comforting in its press there.

You aren’t always good about it. There’s a mean streak in you when you feel trapped. Today, you try.

“I’d like it if you stayed.” You say it against his throat, your fingers tangled into his hair, the movement of your hand fond. “If you wanted this to be home for a while.”

He nods, squeezes your hips. “And you should come see Austin. Instead of hearin’ about it. Reckon you might like it.”

“I think I probably would.”

The next morning, he calls his brother for the first time in over a year.

If you read this far, you have no idea how much I appreciate it. Thank you for reading and being here, and as always would love to hear anything you have to share. 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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swimmingpoolpumpsuk · 5 months

Text

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wonuvs · 3 months

Note

can you write something about perv!skz and 9th member!reader

tyyyy:)

MINORS PISS OFF. tags: ot8 skz x 9thmember!afab!reader + perv behavior, reader is desrcibed to have a smaller frame compared to the others, dubcon, 9th member is kinda aware of whats going on in most of these.

perv!ot8skz and their cute and naive 9th member that they just love to manipulate however and whenever they want because they know you're never gonna refuse their touch or requests. why would you, when you know they love and care for you, and they would never intentionally make you do something wrong or strange? why would you stop listening to them when they always call you pretty names and make you feel good? when their stares make you feel so hot and wanted?

perv!chan who knows how wrong it is, but can't help but picture you naked, on your knees, and with your mouth gagging on his hot cock whenever he sees your bruised knees and sweaty face after a particularly challenging dance practice. and he gulps, his dick twitches in his pants with every hiss and pained moan of yours as he helps you spread lotion over your bruised skin once you are back home. “you should be more careful...” he tells you each time, though deep deep down he loves seeing you like this, because he imagines it's him reducing you like that.

perv!minho who is obsessed with your lips, who buys you ice cream and popsicles even in winter, just to be able to stare at your lips as they circle and suck the tip of the ice pop until it turns transparent, or at your red tongue licking the dripping ice cream from the cone and your fingers. he shudders with each happy moan you let out, picture your lips covered in his salty cum, your hand holding his cock instead of that damned ice cream cone. he shamefully even jerked off to a few pictures of you with whipped cream around your mouth.

perv!changbin who, upon you telling him you wanted to work on growing your glutes, convinced you to wear only a pair of shorts and tiny sports bra to the gym. he tasks you with doing some weighed squats, and he thanks god you chose to wear light colored pants, because once you start sweating in them, they cling onto your skin perfectly, so much so even your dark underwear is visible. he sneakily takes a few pictures of your ass when you bend down to tie your shoes to add to his collection of pictures and videos of you in compromising positions.

perv!hyunjin who presses to his nose those panties of yours he's stolen as he listens to your broken moans and sobs coming from the other side of the wall in the middle of the night. the wall is so thin he can even hear your vibrator buzzing, your every gasp as you overtimulate yourself. he shamelessly fucks his fist, which is holding another one of your panties, imagining it's your wet cunt instead. he soon covers them in his thick ropes of release, and he smiles, imagining it's your wet cunt he just came on, instead of a piece of fabric.

perv!jisung who always begs you to take a nap with him whenever he's feeling sleepy. he tells you it's because he falls asleep better when he's wrapped in your arms, and who are you to refuse his puppy eyes? you even let him spend the night in your room when he tells you he's particularly exhausted—though it's all an excuse for him to subtly rub his clothed cock against your lover back and ass all night long. he's even cum in his pants a few times when you'd unconsciously breathe out whimpers in your sleep.

perv!felix who uses the excuse of being good at massaging to put his hands on you. once you're on his bed, completely naked, his skillful fingers start rubbing at your sore skin so perfectly you start moaning and gasping as every knot dissolves with his touch. the intimate atmosphere and wet sounds make his dick twitch in his pants, who starts leaking when he notices a pool of your arousal right under your cunt. he's quick to gather it with his digits, rubbing your outer lips slowly before suddenly breaching your folds, “this is a new tecinque i saw a while back on the internet. mind if i try it on you?”

perv!seungmin and perv!jeongin who invite you to play videogames on the playstation with them while everyone's out of the dorm. they tell you it's because they'd rather sit comfortably on jeongin's double bed instead of sitting for hours on end on a chair in front of a pc—but really, it's because you always fall asleep just a couple of hours in your gaming session, giving them the perfect chance to fuck your pretty thighs clad with only short shorts. the feeling of your soft mixed with their cocks rubbing against each other in the darkness of the room never fail to make them cum in seconds. they don't even bother to clean you up, opting instead to coo at and tell you, “must've had a dirty dream, hm? such a filthy girl.” once you wake up and ask what's with the stickiness in between your thighs. all you can do though is blush, as you feel your core throb needily.

#anonymus #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard hours #skz ot8 smut #stray kids ot8 smut #kpop smut

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 month

Note

Hello! It's my first time requesting, I don't know if you will write it or not, but I thought I'll put the idea in, basically when I had this sudden burst of idea for a story where in this story Bucky is sort of a the type of guy who likes to bring girls and ykyk, and unfortunately the reader has a crush on Bucky and they r neighbour so reader would tend to listen to the noises and it would break the reader's heart. One day, she decided to go for a walk when Bucky was *cough* w some random girl, and unfortunately, the reader was attacked from behind, and Steve or Sam found her and brought her to the Medbay, and when Bucky found out his heart broke and he confessed, bc he also has a crush on the reader but don't know how to do handle it so he just go with other girls to push his feelings aside, obv doesn't work. Ending fluff!! Love your work always🫶

You’re The One That I Want » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Neighbor!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t want the other girls he has brought home, all he wants is Y/N.

Warnings: Fluff, language, mentions of blood, crying, kissing, cuddling, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

You covered your ears with your hands and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to drown out the sound of the moans coming from Bucky’s apartment next door. You couldn’t help but feel jealous and heartbroken. You’ve had a crush on Bucky since the day you moved in next door to him, but it’s pretty obvious that he doesn’t feel the same way about you. He brings a different girl home almost every night. You put on a jacket and grabbed your phone and keys. You decided to take a walk to get your mind off of Bucky having a girl over. The night air felt refreshing. You hadn’t realized how long you were walking when you felt someone grab you from behind and pulled you into a nearby alley. The person covered your mouth to muffle your screams. The next thing you knew, you felt something sharp pierce your left side. Soon your body felt limp and you fell to the ground, everything went dark after that. Steve was walking down the street when something caught his eye in the alley. He cautiously entered the alley and seen a person lying on the ground unconscious. Something about this person seemed familiar to him, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He crouched down and carefully rolled the person over. His eyes widened when he seen your face.

“Y/N, it’s Steve. Can you hear me?” Steve says.

That’s when he felt something wet. He looked down and seen a pool of blood underneath you. He checked for a pulse. Your pulse was weak, but it was there. Steve picked you up bridal style and took you to the med bay at the Avengers Compound. While the doctors were checking you out, he tried to call and text Bucky, but he didn’t answer.

“Come on, Buck. Answer your damn phone.” Steve says to himself.

Steve was sent to voicemail for what it seems like the hundredth time. He sighed and put his phone in pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. Steve knows you’re Bucky’s next door neighbor. He also knows that Bucky would like to know if something bad happened to you.

The next morning, Bucky woke up next to a girl who’s name he didn’t remember. He grabbed his phone and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when he seen a lot of miss calls and texts from Steve. He got out of bed to get dressed at the same time the girl woke up. He politely told her that he had to go to work and she left. He then made his way to the Avengers Compound.

“Why did you call and text me so many times last night? Where’s the emergency?” Bucky asks, walking towards Steve.

“It’s Y/N.” Steve says.

“My neighbor Y/N? What’s wrong with her?” He asks.

“I found her with a stab wound and passed out from blood loss in an alley last night.” Steve tells him.

Bucky felt his heart drop and his eyes widened. A bunch of bad scenarios were going through his mind.

“Where is she? Is she awake?” Bucky asks with worry in his voice.

“She’s in the med bay and still hasn’t woke up yet.” Steve says.

Bucky immediately ran to the med bay. His eyes teared up when he seen you in the bed with an IV in your arm and a breathing tube in your nose that’s giving you oxygen. He approached the bed and sat down next to you. Him seeing you in the bed like that almost killed him. He carefully picked up your hand, giving it a kiss and held it. Bucky couldn’t help but feel guilt. If he answered his phone last night, he would’ve been here sooner.

“I’m s-so sorry this happened to you, doll.” His voice cracking. “This shouldn’t have happened to you.” He says with tears rolling down his cheeks.

Bucky sniffles and let out a shaky breath. He thought hooking up with girls who aren’t you would push his feelings away about you, but it didn’t work. You’re on his mind 24/7.

“I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but umm…” Bucky paused for a few seconds. “I just want to tell you that I’m in love with you. I thought that seeing girls who aren’t you would push the feelings I have for you away. You’re always on my mind. You’re the one that I want.” He confesses. “If you don’t feel the same way as me, I totally understand.” He says.

He waited a moment, hoping you would wake up after he said that, but you didn’t. Bucky sighed and laid his head on the bed.

“What you said was really sweet.” Natasha says, breaking the silence.

Bucky lifted his head to see Natasha in the doorway. Wanda was standing next to her. They walked in the room and stood next on the opposite side of the bed.

“Thanks, but I doubt that she feels the same way about me.” He says.

“She’ll get through this, Bucky.” Wanda says.

“I hope so.” He says, looking at you.

Something came to Bucky’s mind. He remembered you told him you like red roses. Maybe that’ll help you change your mind about him if you feel differently towards him.

“Can you two do something for me?” Bucky asks, looking at them.

“Of course. Anything.” Natasha says.

“I want to get her roses, but I don’t want to leave her. Can you two get them for me? She likes the red ones.” He says, giving them some money.

“That’s so sweet of you. Of course we’ll do that for you.” Wanda says, taking the money from him.

After they left, Bucky looked at you with sadness in his eyes. He lifted one of his hands and moved your hair from your face, admiring your beautiful features. He gently caressed your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your skin. Bucky couldn’t stop his eyes from tearing up. Tears rolled down his cheeks. He wanted nothing more than for you to wake you up.

“Don’t leave me. Please wake up, doll.” Bucky says, letting his tears free fall.

Bucky laid his head against the bed. You could hear his voice. You also felt his hand holding yours. Your eyes fluttered open, squinting them to adjust to the light. It took you a moment to gather your surroundings. You looked to your right to see Bucky sitting next to the bed.

“B-Bucky?” You say weakly.

Bucky’s head shot up when he heard your voice. A smile grew on his face. Relief washed over him, knowing that you’re alive.

“Oh thank god!” Bucky says, hugging you tightly.

You whimpered in pain when his arm accidentally bumped your wound.

“Shit, sorry.” He apologizes, letting go of you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, wondering why your left side is in pain. You lifted your shirt just enough to see bandages on your left side.

“Wh-What happened and where am I?” You asked, looking at him.

“Steve said you were attacked from behind. You’re in the med bay in the Avengers Compound.” Bucky explains.

“Did you find me?” You asked.

“No. Steve found you.” You could hear the sadness in Bucky’s voice. “What’s the last thing you remember?” He asks.

“Uhh…” That’s when it came to you. “You and the girl you brought home last night were- umm enjoying yourselves…” You tried not to sound awkward. “And I didn’t want to hear it so I went on a walk and someone grabbed me from behind. I’m assuming that’s how I got this.” You explained, lifting your shirt to show him the bandages.

Bucky felt even more guilty. He felt like this is his fault. A couple tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, doll.” Bucky apologizes. “I should’ve been there for you.” He says.

You lifted your hand weakly and caressed his cheek, your thumb rubbing across his stubble.

“This isn’t your fault, Bucky.” You say softly.

You looked in his teary blue eyes. Bucky leaned in, kissing you passionately. Steve, Natasha, and Wanda walked in at the same time you two were kissing. Bucky slowly pulled away from you, glancing over to the doorway to see the three of them standing there.

“You have company, doll.” Bucky says.

You looked at the door, smiling when you seen Steve, Natasha, and Wanda. Wanda had a vase of red roses in her hands.

“Bucky told me and Nat to get these for you.” Wanda says, placing the roses on the table next to the bed.

“We’ll leave you two alone. We’re happy that you’re awake.” Natasha says, walking out of the room with Wanda following her.

“Steve…” You stopped him in his tracks. “Thank you for saving me.” You say.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I’m just glad I found you and got you help.” Steve says with a smile before leaving the room.

You turned your head to admired the roses for a moment before turning to face Bucky.

“I don’t know if you heard what I said earlier or not, but I mean every word. If you don’t feel the same way about me, I completely understand. We can go back to being neighbors and-” You silenced Bucky with a kiss.

“I’ve been in love with you since the day I moved in next door to you.” You confessed.

Bucky smiles widely and kissed you sweetly and passionately.

“When you’re fully recovered, do you want to go on a date with me?” Bucky asks.

“I’d love that.” You say in almost a whisper.

You scooted over in the bed, whimpering in pain when you moved the wrong way.

“Doll, what are you doing?” Bucky asks.

“Lay down next to me.” You say, patting the bed next to you.

Bucky happily laid down next to you, wrapped his arms around you protectively and being careful not to touch your wound.

“You’re staying with me till you’re fully recovered and then I’m going to help you move your stuff to my apartment.” Bucky says.

“We’re not even dating yet and you want me to move in with you.” You say, looking up at him.

“You’re my girl now and that means I want you to live with me.” He says.

You smiled and kissed his stubbly cheek. You laid your head on his chest, slowly falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. Bucky kissed the top of your head, smiling to himself when the two of you finally got each other to yourselves.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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whispering-clan · 4 months

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The Costal Valley Territories

I made a map of the Whisper-verse clan's territories!

These clans live alongside the sea in a small valley split by a river!

Note: this map is more representative than entirely accurate, I just tried to show the basic idea of what the territories look like.

Descriptions of the Clan Territories below!

Moon Island:

Moon Island is both the gathering place for the clans on the full moon, and the place where the majority of the clans (excluding Whisperingclan) go to speak to Starclan. In the middle of the island where the trees form a circle around a large stone, the leaders will perch for meetings. This is also where cats wishing to speak to Starclan sit- under the light of the moon and stars.

...

Whisperingclan:

Age/origin: Youngest clan; formed after the founders were banished from Roaringclan for a coup against the new leader.

Territory: the tallest mountains, rocky, though with some trees, grass and bushes interspersed with the stone. There are a few small creeks and pools running through the mountains due to rain and snow run off, there are also several caves within the mountain. The winter is the worst here with the high altitude and high snowfall.

Camp: the Whispering Cave, a large cave filed with mystical glowing crystals which seem to whisper with the words of the Starclan ancestors. There are several pools above the cave, from which small streams of water fall through cracks in the stone into the cave.

Borders: the River marks the border with Roaringclan and SIngingclan; the border with Growlingclan is only marked with scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the mountain peaks becoming lower and sharper in Growling territory.

...

Roaringclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Singingclan and Echoingclan; territory was once larger, but was taken over by humans.

Territory: grassy, hilly, plains. Notable features are small patches of trees and bushes, a lake, a muddy/ soil patch by the river, and many little burrows to be found amongst the hills.

Camp: the Abandoned Burrows, a circle of empty fox burrows surrounded by trees and bushes.

Borders: the River marks the border with Whisperingclan; the creek marks the borders of Singingclan and Weepingclan; and on all other sides a human fence marks where their territory ends and the Human Farms begin.

...

Weepingclan:

Age/Origin: Second youngest, though still far older than Whisperingclan; formed from Singingclan separating into two clans, not from any all out fighting, but the realization that there were two obvious separate groups (in skill and personality) in the clan that could survive better in the separate territories.

Territory: marsh lands and dark forests made up of willows and oaks. The forests have soft thick wet peat, though there are some rocky places. Tall grasses and reeds grow around the marsh giving good cover.

Camp: The Weeping Grotto, a large cave opening within a rocky area of the forest of which is surrounded by the largest and oldest weeping willows of the territory.

Borders: the border with Roaringclan is marked by the creek; the border with Singingclan is marked by scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the change in types of trees; the small piece of border with Echoingclan is separated by the river at it's widest, though both clans lay claim to half of the row of stepping stones which could connect the territories; the border which is not shared with any clan stops where human trails (hiking trails) begin, farther from there are human dens and farms.

...

Singingclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Roaringclan and Echoingclan; originally encompassed Weepingclan as well, but they amicably separated into two clans for better survival.

Territory: forests made of oak and birch along with meadows filled with wildflowers and grasses. Through the center of the territory runs the River and a small creek shoots off through the territory as well. the river is banked by reeds and other water plants.

Camp: the River Hollow, a space surrounded by trees in the center of the island in the middle of the River within their territory.

Borders: the border with Roaringclan is marked by the creek; the border with Whispering and Growlingclan is marked by the River; the border with Weepingclan is marked by scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the change of types of trees; and the border with Echoingclan is marked with scent markers, though it is easy to tell where it is, it is where the sand begins.

...

Echoingclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Roaringclan and Singingclan; originally encompassed Growlingclan as well, though unlike Weeping and Singing, the separation was born from civil war, the losing side being Growlingclan.

Territory: a beach, almost entirely sand with only costal plants growing in the territory. There is a cliff line which is made up of rock, at the higher end of which the beach is mostly rock with tide pools, weathered stone arches, and the opening to a system of sea caves. This territory seems small, but the sea caves stretch out underneath for large expanses, and even under Growlingclan's territory, Echoingclan lays claim to all of the cave system even under other clan's terriotories.

Camp: the Sea Caves, mostly the large cavern formed at the front opening of the Sea Caves but some cats may even make their own dens in smaller off shoots of the caves as well.

Borders: most of their borders are at the sea's edge, though their borders with the other clans are marked with scent markers; it is easy to tell where territories end however. the border with Singingclan is where Singing's grass begins, and the border with Growlingclan is where the mountain's stone begins.

...

Growlingclan:

Age/Origin: Third youngest, though still far older than Whisperingclan; formed from Echoingclan separating into two clans, two factions in the clan had formed and went into a civil war, Echoing won and banished the losing side to the far less hospitable side of the territory.

Territory: Truly one of the harshest territories, the lower levels of the mountains, rocky sharp lands that end with cliffs along the sea shore that are too high to dare try to reach the sea. There are small groups of shrubs and small trees, but little else in the form of plant life. there are some small pools which are cherished as they are the only certain sources of water.

Camp: the Broken Crag, a cliff face which is broken in places revealing small caves where cats can make dens.

Borders: the border with Whisperingclan is marked with scent markers though the change in territories can also be seen through the mountain peaks becoming higher in Whispering territory; the small border with Singingclan is marked with the river; the border with Echoingclan is marked with scent markers though it is easy to tell where the border is, it is where the sand begins.

#this was fun to make #I love world building :3 #whisperingclan #cryptid plays clangen #clangen #warrior cats #my ocs #warriors #ocs #singingclan #roaringclan #echoingclan #weepingclan #growlingclan #the other clans

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fineprintedsunsets · 4 months

Text

Кролик; Bunny

ೃ⁀➷ It's the dreaded time of month and all you want to do is curl up in bed. Your soldat has other plans. ೃ⁀➷ p in v sex. dirty talk. soldat!bucky. mentions of blood. period sex. (soldat not giving a fuck). breeding kink. mentions of pads/pain. fingering. possible typos. ೃ⁀➷ 1.2k

i hate my period so much, writing about this brute helps me cope🧸

seb masterlist

Oh no. No. No. Not today. Not now.

Fuck, You hate mother nature.

The sheets of your bed are stained a red hue. Little spots and specks paint the white fabric and your thighs are sticky with blood.

Your fucking period. If you had enough energy you could just slam a fist into the wall, broken bones be damned.

You whimpered and whined all the way to the shower, stomach aching, legs weak. You made sure to tear off the sheets and add them to the heaping pile of laundry in your room.

As soon as you stripped yourself of your clothes and felt the steaming water hit your skin, all was forgiven. The sound of water hitting the cheap chipped tile was so relaxing you would give everything you had to be in this state forever.

Unfortunately, a girl has a water bill.

ღ

You changed your clothes, put on low-cut shorts, and bought a shit ton of pads. It was only the first day and your flow was already heavy.

The cramps were bearable, but you could tell they were going to get a whole lot worse. Which led to your current state, in bed, lights turned off, head against a cold pillow, and blinds drawn.

An unbreakable fortress of cold pillows and snakes you managed to hoard in anticipation for this day's arrival.

You couldn’t turn on the tv, the light was harsh and irritating. So you just sat in darkness, eating Resses and groaning in pain.

Your only thought was “when would he arrive"?

ღ

“Кролик” (Bunny) a heavy voice woke you from your sleep. A familiar musk of gunpowder and him filled your head.

“You're bleeding.” He says from the shadows. You find your fingers gripping your blankets in both anticipation and fear. Your breath hitches.

He smells it, smells you.

“You need to be bred.”

Fuck.

The Winter Soldier, soldat, in his six-foot-tall frame, rounds the side of your bed. The harsh fabric of his suit, made to withstand all kinds of obstacles was now in front of your vision.

The soldat didn’t bother to take his combat boots off before sliding into bed with you. He kneeled on the mattress, denting it.

You waited in anticipation, legs slightly parted, breath coming in slow gasps as heat filled your entire body.

“Remove your shorts. Or is it too painful?” In a way, he’s mocking you, a way of saying you will always need his help. If you weren’t drunk off him right now, you’d recoil. Sober you would not have heat pooling in her core right now.

“Hurts- Soldat. Please take them off.” You wiggled your hips to emphasize. The soldats mask covers his face, muffling the groan he made when sliding the fabric off your legs.

Your body jolted when cold metal fingers met your clothed core. You tried your best to hold in the moan you held in your throat.

“Shh…quiet, кролик” You know there’s blood on your panties, you know the soldat does too.

Except, he doesn't seem to give a shit. His fingers prod at your entrance before removing your panties entirely, along with the pad stuck to them.

The soldat looks at your cunt, the mask hiding any real facial expression. You shiver from the cold air hitting your exposed folds.

He takes two metal fingers and slides them through your folds, gathering both blood and slick. The soldat purrs as you whine. “Relax -Going to hurt, stay still.”

You do as you are told, unable to stop the soldat as he places a flesh hand against your stomach, while two metal digits slide into your cunt.

"Beautiful, sweetheart.” The Soldat hums, pushing down just a little on your tummy as the digits slowly slide in and out of you. The pain eases at whatever he’s doing to you, and pleasure becomes more prominent.

You can hear the sound of your slick as he fingers you, your back arching off the bed as he picks up the pace, adding more pressure to your stomach. “Good, кролик. Right there.”

“Doing so well for your soldat. -think you can cum for him? Hmm?”

Fuck. The edge is so fucking close and your itching to barrel over it. The soldier can feel your cunt squeezing his fingers and can see the look in your eyes as you're about to come.

His metal digits speed up, going at a pace that is sure to push you over the edge. He releases his flesh hand from your stomach to pinch your aching clit.

It’s over from there. “Soldat! Soldat- fuck ” you cry out, heart pumping and legs shaking as he works you through it, pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“So good for your soldat. Look so pretty when you come for him, so beautiful.” The soldat slides his fingers out of you, wiping your juices on his pant leg.

The soldier undoes his belt buckle, sliding off the weapon-studded pants and throwing them into the darkness of the bedroom. His cock is throbbing, angry, and red.

“Ready to be bred, Кролик? Take all you're given?” His boxers are next, his metal hand wraps around the waistband. The fabric is torn from his body in one snap.

Your legs shake and your hips squirm as he lines his cock up with your entrance, his body crowding over you, balancing himself with a hand on the headboard. “You're so wet. I bet I’d just…”

His cock nudges your fold, “-Slide right in.” The pain hits you immediately as the soldat bottoms out. You can hear him curse in Russian under the mask, as he rests his head on your shoulder.

Skin meets skin as he gives time for you to adjust to his size. You’ve taken him many times before, but it’s different on your cycle.

It’s like your womb opens up a little more for him.

“So good, sweetheart.” He moans, sliding out to just half of his length before snapping his hips to you. You can feel everything. Every throbbing vein on his cock, every breath he groans through his mask.

The Soldat always has a primal urge when you're bleeding, he needs to come inside you, needs to breed your cunt.

He wants to mark you as his.

“Soldat-" you moan, feeling his cock slide out another couple of inches, until he’s balls deep again, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock.

The entire bed shakes with the force of the soldat fucking you, and he fucks you hard. He’s so needy, desperate to fill you up with his seed. His moans and groans do not go unheard as his flesh hand presses on your stomach.

“Watch me fuck you, Кролик. See me sliding in and out?” All you can do is nod your head, words do not come easily.

Winter Soldier presses that hand on your tummy, pushing down as he stills, balls pressed to your skin as his cock twitches inside of you. “Feel me in your guts."

A few more thrusts has you clamping down on his cock, and when the soldier feels it, he goes fucking feral.

“Milk your Soldat's cock while he fills up your pretty pussy.” The soldier does exactly as he promises, shooting rope after rope of cum inside you.

Later, he flips you on your back so your pressed to his muscled chest, cock stuffing you full, keeping his load inside you. The Soldat mutters something like, “helps with the pain.”

And damn him, he’s right.

#fanfic #masterlist #oneshot #marvel #smut #buckbarnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky x reader #buckybarnessmut #winter solider smut #fluff #the winter soldier #wintersoldier #winter soldier smut #period fic #buckybarnesperiodfic

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piratesfromspace · 3 months

Text

Just Like Old Times PART 2 (Price x Reader + poly141)

Pairing: Reader x Price + Reader x 141 Rated: Explicit Word count: 4.3k Summary: Some flirting, hot springs, a cosy cottage in the snow, and lots of sex Note: This is the part 2 I promise with lots of smut, enjoy!

Content: ex-military!fem!reader, mention of food & alcohol, smoking, praise kink, heavy smut, fivesome, oral, PiV, light ass play, overstimulation, dom/sub vibes, aftercare, fluff

MASTERLIST // PART 1

It doesn’t happen this very night, but the day after.

The men are a little bit more rested after their long trek out in the open, and they are all very enthusiastic when you suggest a short hike to reach the hot springs hidden in a small valley just east of your cottage. It’s too remote from the touristy locations for random people to show up there, or for amateur hikers to stumble upon by accident. You’ll be alone and safe. And warm - most importantly. And it’s also a convenient opportunity to see them half naked.

The hot springs are tucked against the side of a small glade, where the snow melts to reveal rocky arrangements forming shallow pools. Steam hovers above the clear water, signaling its warmth. The afternoon is sunny enough to make the snow gleam, painting a decor so pretty even the rugged men around you remark on it.

“Gosh lass, you didn’t lie when you told us about this place” Soap’s voice shakes you out of your contemplation.

“Hope you don’t mind but I did not bring a bathing suit for our snow trip” Gaz is already stripping down, ready to dive into the steaming water. You take a beat too long to respond, mouth open at the vision of Gaz’s very naked and very ripped chest, muscles of his back rippling as he’s trying to remove his boots as quickly as he can.

“Don’t you worry, she’s seen a lot worse back in the days”. It’s Price who comes to your rescue, a mischievous glint in his deep blue eyes fixed on your face. Warmth pricks at your cheeks - and it’s not because of the springs. It’s true though, you’ve seen quite a lot of men in all states of undress during your previous life. Missions after missions after training sessions after stays in the infirmary, you all tend to lose any sense of modesty. A body is a body after all. Just that. You repeat yourself as you undress as well - still, you intend on keeping the two-piece bathing suit you put on under your winter gear before leaving. You also try to keep your eyes down as the men strip and sink in one of the natural pools with satisfied grunts bordering on moans. Their sinful sounds don’t help with the warmth already creeping up your face.

The steam covering the surface and the warping of the water does a good enough job at hiding the most intimate parts of their bodies. It’s not enough to hide how massive their bodies are though. You catch the glimpse of reddish or silvery scars on a muscular back or on a corded forearm. Dark hairs are dusted on the large pectorals of Price and Soap, while Gaz and Ghost are more smooth.

Ghost has kept his usual facemask, even though he traded the skull mask for a printed balaclava, with a wider opening, framing doe-like brown eyes looking intently at you under blond lashes. He’s the biggest of them all - and it’s saying something considering Price and the two younger soldiers are far from small men - the level of the water had visibly raised when he lowered himself into the shallow pool. He beacons you with a nod of his head, and you finally muster enough courage to remove the last of your garment - except for your bathing suit - and join them in the water. They’re nice enough to not make any comment on your choice of covering yourself while they are shameless in their nudity.

The enveloping warmth of the spring is a blessing for your body, immediately soothing the goose bumps you got from the cold. You let yourself relax until the little waves are lapping at your nape, free of the hair you carefully tied up earlier. Your whole body goes slack as you take deep breaths, and close your eyes, sun rays lazily kissing the skin of your face. On your right, Price is doing the same, and when you readjust your posture, your arm brushes against his, and then your thigh touches his leg. You don’t move away though, you both stay like that for a moment, the joyful chatting of Soap and Gaz on the other side of the pool, a surprisingly relaxing background noise. The simple contact with his skin is warming you up from the inside, the memory of the kiss he gave you last night making you unconsciously squirm against him, clenching your thighs together. You’re feeling… hot. And the temperature of the water is not the only thing to blame.

“Stop it, love.” the warning is uttered in a low gravelly voice, that does the exact contrary of what it was intended for. Liquid heat blooms between your legs as Price pairs his remark with a solid hand catching your right knee, immobilizing your whole leg.

“Stop it, or I will be tempted to catch on all the time we missed.” It’s still a warning, but definitely not a threat, his voice goes gentler, almost sad at the last words. Fuck. That’s what did it a decade earlier, what made you cave in to your attraction for this man, the intoxicating mix of confidence - in his skills and authority - and vulnerability - emotions and kindness just bubbling under the surface.

You can’t let this chance slip. Not again. Last night, you stopped at kissing, even though you wanted more, and you’ve been desperately horny since. You catch his hand on your knee, guiding it higher along your thigh, until it reaches the hem of your bathing suit. “What if I don’t mind it?” you whisper back, angling your body to better face him.

You can see the internal fight on Price’s face.

“They will see” he mumbles, looking above your shoulders to the three men chatting just a few feets away.

“I also don’t mind that…” you answer against the side of his head, pushing the words out before you chickens out “... do you?”.

“I did not remember you to be such a menace” he chuckles darkly, before one arm snakes around your waist and lifts you up so you’re fully braced against his side. His other hand dips under the band of your bottom to cup your cunt. Your lips part around a gasp. His skin is somehow even hotter than the water. The hand on your back climbs until it clasps on your nape, bending your head in the crook of his neck, at a not-so-successful attempt at muffling your sounds.

The captain waits for you to settle before he dips the pads of his fingers between your folds, grazing at your entrance where they meet the sirupy evidence of your desire. The tranquil water is not enough to wash away the sticky liquid, and Price takes advantage of it to glide effortlessly up your slit until he finds your aching clit. You stifle another gasp when he starts rubbing it in slow circles.

“Quiet love” He squeezes your neck, trying to remind you of your surroundings - and especially of your audience. You don’t dare look behind you, but you can imagine how you look. For Price’s men, it must look like he has you in a tight hug, which is telling already. But if you start moaning on top of that, it’s not gonna look like a chaste hug for long.

It’s difficult not to though, because the length of you is plastered against his formidable body, your tits pressed on his chest, he has you straddling one of his thighs, and you can feel his hard dick pulsing against your leg. Your teeth bite into your lower lip in an attempt at staying silent, and you would be scared to draw blood if you weren’t too far gone. Price’s fingers keep their pressure on your clit while he keeps you pinned to him with nowhere to go, and you know you’re not gonna last. Not when it feels so good to be in his arms, to feel his warm skin, and underneath it the strong muscles that keep you at his mercy. Not when he remembers exactly how to touch you to make you shiver in pleasure in mere seconds. Not when his most loyal men are probably looking at you from the other side of the pool. The idea that they might actually be, that they might understand what their Captain is doing to you, that they might even get hard at the view - you feel so dirty at admitting it, but it is what really makes you go over the edge.

You come with a silent sob, biting into Price’s shoulder, until he redirects your mouth on his own. He kisses you with a hunger, a desperate thirst, like it pains him to want you this much. You answer with your own passion, careless in your display of affection for him. Low whistles and impressed Damn, captain erupt from the three other men. You part from Price with a chuckle, still not daring to look behind you. Until you feel someone gently tugging at your wrist.

“Don’t keep her all to yourself Captain” Gaz beautiful eyes find yours, checking if you’re okay to follow him. You’re pretty sure he’s the only one to be able to snatch something from Price’s lap without too much trouble. John grumbles something that is lost in your soft laughs as Gaz brings you back with him near Soap and Ghost.

“Now, tell us a story from your time with our Captain, I’m sure you have some funny ones!” he offers, and you comply, not minding the fact Gaz’s hand is still on your wrist, absentmindedly drawing circles in your skin with the tips of his calloused fingers.

❄️

You get back to the cottage just before sunset. The heater is still broken, but it’s a blessing in disguise, corelling you all into the living room, where the nice warmth of the fireplace makes for a mellow atmosphere. Soap has managed to find your stash of scotch, a vice you don’t indulge often in, but you still keep a few bottles at hand, to celebrate happy occasions or cushion hard news. You guess your reunion with Price is worth bringing those bottles out.

The evening feels like one of those too-perfect fuzzy memories, made of laughter, comfort food and enough of the brown liquorous beverage to dull the last of your awkwardness around those newfound friends. Price has procured a cigar, spicy smoke weighing heavy on your senses. Someone has chosen a vinyl from your collection and turned on the old record player. Slow tempo music with suggestive lyrics. Gaz tugs you up from the ground, has you two sway along to the song - he moves his hips with a disconcerting easiness. You don’t really know what you’re doing, but he’s happy enough you follow him. You laugh in the dance, and he gets bolder, holding you closer with each new chorus. It drives you crazy.

Your earlier release at the hand of Price is long forgotten, and your whole body has been on fire since you came back from the hot springs. You can feel how embarrassingly wet you are, every little touch to move you out of the way in the kitchen, to lead you to your seat on the couch, every time they lay a finger on your waist, your arm, or even your face to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Everything they do to you makes you go crazy with want. Of course Price is the bolder of them all, large palms holding your hips while you step on a chair to reach something high in your kitchen, kisses stolen in the corridor, hungry eyes following your every move.

He might be guilty of teasing you to death, but the three others are not that innocent either. And Price is letting them. He’s very clearly allowing them to flirt, watching with a small smile as they make you laugh, as they make you crave their attention. Yes, guilty, they are all guilty. And you’re their very willing victim.

Your glass is still in hand, your eyes are half closed. Ghost and Soap are sitting side by side on your couch, bodies relaxed, eyes on you and Gaz. Simon’s balaclava is bunched up on his nose, still hiding a part of his face, but allowing him to sip on his - yours actually - scotch. He’s watching you dance like you’re the prettiest girl in the club, although his hand is possessively holding Soap’s knee. You noticed they were close, but you did not expect this open display of affection. It means they trust you to some extent. It flatters your ego, makes you balance your hips more boldly.

As the song comes to an end, Gaz has you in a tight embrace with your back against his firm chest, his hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck, his lips so close from your nape, you wish he would kiss you there already. It’s not calculated, more instinct than wit, but you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side, baring your neck to his mouth. It must be instinct from his part also, because he immediately takes the bait and lays a gentle kiss on the side of your neck. You leave out a shaky exhale at the sensation and sink a little more against him. He leaves another kiss, a little lower, going down where your neck meets your shoulder. And another one. It’s not about instinct anymore, it’s deliberate, it’s a clear choice. The gentle warmth of the alcohol, the smoke of the cigar, the tiredness of the afternoon spent in the water - it all makes your body pliant and your mind happily dizzy.

“Let us thank you for the stay, lovie” Kyle murmurs against the shell of your ear, his hands solid on your hips, leaving no doubt as to how they intend to thank you. The shock of his demand forces you to use your brain for a second. You kinda knew this was coming - you wished it too. But it’s one thing to fantasize about it, and another to live up to it. Your eyes fly open to Price, searching for his opinion on this. Not hard to guess he already had his word to say in the situation, but still.

“Don’t look at me. It’s up to you darling.” His voice is thick, thicker than usual. “You can say no. At any time.” he adds, words carefully chosen. The fire in his eyes when you nod your consent matches the fire between your legs.

Price rises from his chair while Kyle stays glued to your back, holding you upright, like an offering to his Captain. John stands in front of you, locks eyes with you and takes a long inhale on his cigar. His hand catches your chin, and he bends toward you until his mouth is a hair away from yours. You willingly part your lips to let him breathe out the smoke in your lungs. You can’t take it all, and the smoke spills out, engulfs your field of view, drowning you in the smell you have learned to recognize as his. Something rich and spicy, heavy and masculine, powerful and his, his, his-

Price takes advantage of the way the smoke makes you even dizzier to kiss you on the lips. A hungry kiss, mirroring the one he gave you when he had you in his lap earlier in the springs. Before you close your eyes to focus on the way his tongue is licking inside your mouth, you vaguely register Ghost getting up and taking the cigar from his captain’s hand to let it drop in the ashtray. You feel his giant presence, can feel him nuzzling at the top of your head, smelling your hair, fingers ghosting over your shoulder and upper arm. It’s becoming overwhelming very quickly to be surrounded by them, and if not for Gaz holding you upright against him, you’re not sure you would still be standing up.

Simon’s fingers find their way down your arm, until he gently takes your hand. His hold is feather-light, leaving you the opportunity to retreat. It’s a stark contrast with the raw strength you know he’s capable of. Price reluctantly stops kissing you, his large palms still holding your jaw from both sides angling your face towards his lieutenant. He wouldn't want for you to miss the show of Simon’s tongue peeking from his rosy lips to give a little lick at the pad of your fingers. Once, then twice. He groans, content with the taste of your skin. A predator confirming he caught the right prey. Without any warming he engulfs two of your fingers in his mouth, and sucks on the digits like he’s trying to get to the marrow of your bones. But instead of sharp teeths, all you get is the strange feeling of warmth and wetness, the powerful swipe of his tongue - he’s the one shoving your hand in his mouth, yet you have the intuition the big bad wolf is just a lost pet looking for a master. You press your fingers on his tongue, and down, until your flesh is flush against his teeth, and you keep pressing. He has no choice but lowering down too, unless he risks hurting you.

The hands of Price and Gaz on your body tighten ever so slightly, when Simon finally puts his knees on the floor. With just two fingers between his lips, you have managed to make the giant kneel at your feet. He’s gazing at you with glassy eyes, the black make-up fading on his skin making his blond lashes pop.

Simon nuzzles against your legs, and despite him being on his knees, his impulse for action is still there. He pushes his face against your crotch, his balaclava is bunching up on his nose and the bump of the fabric is providing some nice friction against your clothed cunt. Definitely not enough to quench your desire, but it’s welcome. It’s visibly an offense to Ghost that you’re still wearing clothes, so while Price is taking your attention with passionate kisses, he removes your pants and panties, until you can feel the air against your tender flesh. You’re already dripping, you can feel it against your inner thigh.

That’s when Soap, who is behind Ghost, a hand under his balaclava, fisted in his hair, pushes his face against your weeping cunt. Simon gives your folds a broad lick, and you let a heavy sigh out on Price’s lips. Ghost is lapping at you without any shame, his wicked tongue goes everywhere, no inch of the delicate skin between your legs is free from his attention. You have to grasp at Price’s shirt to steady you, because you’re squirming from the delicious wet warmth on your cunt. Gaz is still behind you, supporting you upright. His hands have found their way on your ass, he’s playing with the supple flesh, fingers inching between your cheeks.

“Can I touch you here?” he whispers, his breath hot on the shell of your ear, and you nod your consent without second thought. He lets his broad hands wander fully between your ass cheeks, thumbs gently petting at your hole. Each sensation is not entirely new, but layered like this, happening all at the same time - it’s so much, intoxicating in the best sense. Ghost tongue in your cunt is making sinful noises, and you’re drowning in it all, body fully shivering between all of them. You feel a knot tighten in your gut with alarming speed, and you come for the first time of the night, moaning against Price’s neck.

Price sweeps you off wobbly legs, and places you delicately on one of the mattresses. After this first orgasm, the warmth of the fire with the softness of the many blankets makes for a divine sensation.

“All good love? Wanna keep going?” John asks, his blue eyes set on your face, looking for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

“Yes!” you answer with a fervor that makes the men chuckle.

“Wanna taste you too, hen” it’s Soap - he lies between your legs, folds them on your chest, so he can look at your cunt like it’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, before starting to lick, drinking the juices from your previous orgasm. He’s eating you messily but with enthusiasm, spending some time fucking you with his toungue, his thumb pressing on your clit. Your soft moans soon fill the air. It makes him bolder, and he goes even lower, his tongue licking at your puckered hole, not searching to go in, but feasting on every patch of skin he can find between your thighs.

Ghost is kneeling again, this time next to your head. He bends at the waist to kiss your mouth, making you taste yourself on his lips. He’s disciplined in the way he kisses you. After Price’s hunger, it’s a clear contrast. He makes you submit to his rhythm and is not afraid to make you feel the scrape of his teeth on your already swollen lips. He’s precise, sharp, calculated. Unlike you, he can’t be easily overwhelmed, and if you can coax a reaction out of him, it’s only because he lets you.

Soap has you come on his tongue, and you don’t even have the time to let your legs go down before Price hoists them on his shoulders. An undignified little yelp escapes your lips in confusion and surprise that John is quick to sooth.

“Shhh love, I’m here, you’re ok.” his gravelly voice making you so insanely hot that it has you clench on nothing. You’re not empty for long though. He fills you up in one slow inescapable move. It burns, but in a good way, a searing warmth seizing your whole body. The stretch is a lot. It has you clamp up on him, in a vicious reaction circle.

“Fuck, you’re… a… lot.” you whimper, eyes shut to try and focus on relaxing.

“Don’t fight it” you recognize Ghost’s voice. “You’re doing great, bonnie” Soap echoes. “Breathe, gorgeous” Gaz adds.

You open your eyes to see the three men in various states of undress, lounging on the mattresses around you both. Their gaze is fixed on you both, eager for the show you’re offering.

“Look at me, love.” John falls on his forearms, folding you in two. He cradles your face in his big palms, demanding for your full attention - the blue of his eyes is so dark, yet they are shining, like you’re watching a night sky full of stars.

“You’re perfect. Your body is perfect. I know you can take it.” He punctuates his affirmation with a delicious rolling thrust of his hips, that has your lips part around a soft moan.

“So let me make you feel good”

You can’t remember a single time in your life when you felt this good. This level of passion, not only from one person, but from four men. They take turns and team up to make you feel good. There are too many fingers and tongues on your body for you to count - sucking at your tits, leaving bruising kisses on your neck, hitting the most sensitive places inside of you, rubbing at your swollen clit. They discover they love giving a spank or two to your ass to hear you cry out in surprise then laugh and groan when the gentle heat of the blow reaches your cunt. They tie your wrists with a scarf for a minute, so you won’t disturb them in the very important task of finding out which one of them can make you come the fastest.

You love what they do to you, but you also want to please - want them to feel a tenth of the pleasure they offer. You follow the trail of hair on Soap’s belly with your mouth until you reach the tip of his cock. You ride Price until the muscles of your thighs give out. You swallow every drop of Gaz’s cum. You let Ghost come on your chest.

“you’re taking me so well” “look at you, so pretty” “there you go, just like that, perfect" "you’re so good for us"

You bask in their encouragement, let your brain short-circuit with their heady dirty talk, let your body go floaty, your limbs grow sore, let your flesh bruise under ravenous lips, let your skin get covered in sweat and spit and cum and your own wetness. The night is not young anymore when you shatter one last time on Price’s cock. He gently lay down your legs from his shoulders where they were perched. You don’t have any strength left in you to protest when Simon sits between your open legs to lick you clean for a couple minutes, ignoring your soft whines of overstimulation. It’s Gaz who comforts you, letting you know how good you’ve been, that you need to let them clean you up. He gently pets your hair while Simon and Johnny return with a damp clean cloth and try their best at cleaning your skin, before cleaning themselves.

They help you into a warm hoodie - it’s so oversized it obviously belongs to one of them. They feed you pieces of dried fruit, tilt a cup of water to your lips, cuddle with you in front of the fireplace. The crackling of the fire is the background to their gentle chats and laughs, and the occasional muffled moans when Ghost keeps his lips on Soap’s neck. The view is sinful - those two men, built like Greek gods, half-naked, kissing each other - it would be enough to re-ignite your desire if you weren’t feeling so sore. And yet there’s something more than lust between them, something tender you guess they don’t show often.

You eventually drift to sleep against Price, his body solid and warm by your side. Just like old times, you think just before he gently kisses your forehead - and you fall asleep understanding that maybe love has no fixed timeline.

#cod fanfiction #price x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #captain price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #poly 141 #poly tf141 #polyamory #reader x price x ghost x soap x gaz

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