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authorhjk1 · 4 months ago

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SNSD Village

Season 1 Episode 2 : A busy Sunday

(Tiffany X Yoona X Eunha X Minju X Male Reader)

You check your phone as you walk out of your room. After waking up, your throat is feeling kinda dry, so you’re on your way to the kitchen. It seems like Tiffany sent you a message an hour ago. You smile when you read what it says. She wants to make another video. She uploaded the other two yesterday.

“I got some positive feedback, so why not go for another round?”

“I’m down, but I was gonna head to the gym later.”

You remember that you also have to work on your homework with Minju and Eunha separately today. Your Sunday is already packed.

You sigh as you walk down the stairs. Maybe you shouldn’t have slept this long.

“No problem. Meet me there.”

Raising an eyebrow at Tiffany’s message, you reach the end of the stairs. What is she up to? Does she expect you to sleep with her at the gym? You have to admit, you’ve never really had sex in public. But maybe, if no one is there…

You get yourself a much needed glass of water, before leaning against the fridge in the kitchen. While you drink, you quickly respond to Tiffany.

“Would you mind putting some clothes on?”

Your mom is now coming down the stairs. She told you last night that she has an important meeting at another company on Tuesday, which means she will be out of the house until then.

“I just woke up.”

You see that Eunha sent you a message too. Probably about the homework she has to do.

“That doesn’t mean you can just walk around in your underwear.”

Lifting your head, you earn a disapproving look from your mom.

“Especially when my assistant is here.”

Your heartbeat stops for a second, before you turn towards the living room. There she is. Chou Tzuyu gives you a slim, but visibly amused smile. Now you’re very aware of the fact that you really are almost completely naked. But you try to play it off. In your eyes, you’ve worked out more than enough recently, to feel comfortable in your own skin.

“Good morning, Miss Chou.”

“Good morning, Mr. Seo.”

You smile at her, hoping you don’t look awkward.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m good. Thank you.”

Now she looks around you, focusing on your mom.

“Ms. Seo? We need to leave now, if we want to catch the plane.”

“Right, Right. Give me one more minute, Tzuyu. Why don’t you start the car? I will be there in a moment.”

Chou Tzuyu slightly bows in your direction, before heading towards the door.

“Behave yourself.”

You turn around, your mom now grabbing a cup of coffee Tzuyu probably bought her on her way.

“Mom, you don’t have to tell me that, everytime you’re gone for a couple of days.”

“Oh, really? Do you want to go over this again?”

You roll your eyes.

“Good. Now, Jisoo will be staying with you two, while I’m gone. And I will ask her what you’ve been up to, once I’m back, got it?”

“Yes, mom.”

You finish the water and place the glass on the counter.

“She will be here in two hours. So please stay here with Seri until then.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

Your mother grabs her purse and walks past you.

“Give me a kiss.”

She smiles at you, before presenting you her cheek.

“Mom. I’m not a child.”

A glare from her makes you shut up and place a kiss on her cheek.

“Have a safe flight.”

You mumble, before you watch her heading out.

“I’m struggling with homework. Could you maybe come over and we can do it together?”

You read Eunha’s message as you walk back upstairs. You already planned on doing homework with Minju today and now you are determined to not miss out on going to the gym. So you first think about saying no. But maybe the three of you could work together?

“I have a lot of stuff to do today. But I was going to do the homework with Minju anyway. I’m gonna ask her if it’s okay if you join us.”

“Thanks, oppa. I appreciate it.”

You send Minju a message, before taking a shower and getting dressed.

“Oppa, I’m hungry.”

“I know. You already told me that.”

You reach for a drawer and take out Seri’s favorite snack. Cookies.

“But only two. Jisoo will be here later and she will make you lunch.”

You hand Seri the cookies. You watch her as she starts to munch on them. They aren’t big, at least for you, but Seri is holding one with both hands.

“You’re cute.”

You pat her head, before opening the fridge.

“Thanks, oppa. I get that a lot.”

“Really?”

You barely suppress a laugh as you fix her a glass of milk.

“Yes. Mom says it everyday.”

“She is not wrong.”

You slide the glass over the table.

“But she never says it to you.”

“Yeah, because I'm not as small as you, shorty.”

After taking your mom’s leftovers from last night out of the fridge, you put them in the microwave.

“I think you’re cute, oppa.”

“Well, thank you, Seri.”

You lean against the fridge as you watch her take on the second cookie. She threw a fit, when your mom bought a different kind than usual a week ago. But it seems like Seri has forgotten all about that already. Actually, she even declared that these are now her favorite.

The sound of the front door opening makes you look up from your phone. Minju just texted you that she is fine with Eunha being there too. But since her sister has a friend over, the three of you can’t work at her house. After informing Eunha, she happily invited the two of you to come over to her place.

“Oh god, yes! Make them watch!”

Tiffany cries out as you keep up the pace. She is bent over the big, silver stability ball. Only her hands and feet are touching the ground.

After you’re little roleplay a couple of minutes ago, you are now fucking her from behind, while filming her with one of her cameras. Tiffany made you pretend to walk in on her pilates class and then accused you of staring at her inappropriately. After some back and forth, she then acted surprised by your visibly hard cock in your shorts, completely forgetting about the imaginary people who are attending her class. She said something about adding some chatter and gasps here and there during editing, to really make it seem like there are more people in the room.

But right now, it’s only the two of you.The second camera is placed between you and Tiffany and the other people, filming her from the front, while you capture the view of her ass from behind. She is still wearing her white sports bra, but the sweater she tied around her waist is already lying in some corner of the pilates room. Her white leggings are only pulled down to her knees, so her ass and thighs are exposed.

Being stuck in this compromising position means for her, that she can’t do anything, but take your pounding like a good pilates instructor.

You hear her nails scratch on the wooden floor as you tighten your grip on her waist. Pushing her forward a little, you make sure that her cleavage is perfectly captured by the other camera. You put the camera you were holding down on the floor to your left, making sure it films the both of you. Now that you have two free hands, you hold her waist with both of them, squeezing her skin, as you fuck her as hard as you can. The sounds of your hips meeting her nice, tight ass echo through the room, accompanied by her moans.

“You like being watched, huh?”

You give her right cheek a slap.

“Yes, make me your bitch.”

Tiffany whines as you give her another spank.

You lean over her a little more, pressing her body further into the plastic ball. Tiffany lets out a deep breath as the air gets forced out of her body. Another spank makes Tiffany’s head drop. Her weak body is getting thrown around by your thrusts, her face now covered by her hair.

“Don’t hide.”

You reach down, pulling her head up by her hair. Tiffany groans in pain and pleasure as she feels her scalp burning and your cock sending spikes of ecstasy through her body.

“Let them watch.”

Another hard and deep thrust from you makes Tiffany’s whole body sink further into the ball. It enables you to reach forward with your other hand as well. Now, one is holding her hair in a fist, while the other is rudely holding onto her chin.

“Let them see what a whore you are for my cock.”

You are speaking through your teeth by now. Tiffany’s pussy is slowly becoming too much for you to handle. Her wet slick is making it so easy for you to fuck her hard, so now you’re in way too deep.

This wasn’t your idea to begin with. This over the top degrading and manhandling her. That was all Tiffany. To use her words:

“Use me like a toy. I want this to look really dirty.”

And now you’re holding her hair and jaw, while fucking her from behind, making her groan and moan into the camera in front of her.

“Yes! Fuck me deeper, please!”

It’s hard for Tiffany to talk with your hand on her chin, but she still manages to do so, earning a couple of particularly deep thrusts from you.

“Tell them how much you love it. Beg for it.”

You pull her hair a little harder, making Tiffany yelp in response.

“I need it! I love your cock!”

You take a step closer, so you’re now almost standing above her ass, instead of behind her.

“I can’t live without it anymore! Please! Give it to me!”

When she first explained how nasty this was gonna get, you wondered why she would do something like this. But now, her way too exaggerated words even turn you on. They make you treat her even rougher.

“I’m gonna cum so deep inside of you.”

“Oh, gosh! Please breed me! I want to show how well I can take your cum!”

You untangle your hand from her hair and place it on her chin as well. Now, you’re holding her jaw with both hands as you fuck her from behind, arching her back like a bow. Her cleavage is on display for the camera once more. But the only thing you care about right now is to finally cum inside of her.

Tiffany’s cries and whines have been reduced to weak moans, because she can’t open her mouth properly. You fuck her as hard as you can, feeling how her pussy is squeezing your cock. How her walls are trying to coax you into breeding her.

And finally, you do exactly that. You paint Tiffany’s pink walls with your sticky cum. A comfortable warmth spreads through her body as it welcomes your seed. You thrust as quickly into her as before, but with much less power. You’re falling off your high, your thrusts chasing after every tiny bit of pleasure you can get from Tiffany’s cum filled pussy.

“Oh wow.”

Tiffany laughs, back to her old self.

“Seems like you got really into it at the end there. Nice touch with holding my jaw. I liked it.”

You feel a weird sense of pride as Tiffany compliments you.

“Thank you.”

You look down as you slowly start to pull out of her. Yeji’s mom doesn’t move, even when your cum starts to run down her thighs. Only a weak moan escapes her lips.

“Do you need a hand?”

A proud smile is playing around your lips.

“Don’t act all cocky. “

Tiffany is still facing away from you, but she probably heard it in your voice.

“Just give me a moment.”

Once she gets off the ball, you hand her the pack of tissues that she brought in her bag. You watch her clean herself. Even after just fucking her, you can’t help but admire her body. You wonder if you will ever get tired of it.

“Let me change into something else and then we can go again?”

“Again?”

You didn’t expect her to be this into it. But then again, it is basically how she makes a living. So it does make sense that she wants to shoot as much content as possible in one go.

“What? You can’t keep up?”

Tiffany’s teasing smile makes you shake your head.

“I can go for another round right now.”

You step closer again.

“I see.”

With the same smile, Tiffany reaches down and wraps a hand around your cock.

“Fucking a younger guy really has it’s benefits.”

You feel her stroking you and you reach down to let a finger glide along her labia.

“Damn.”

She sighs, her voice already shaking a little, her pussy still sensitive from the rough pounding she just took.

“Just let me get changed.”

Tiffany shoots a more seductive smile your way.

“Trust me, you’ll love it.”

You already thought that Tiffany looked amazing in the outfit she wore for the first video. But you feel yourself getting fully hard as soon as you see her standing in the door again. The white sports bra doesn’t just show off her nicely shaped bust, but also her tight midriff. You have to admit that, despite her age, Tiffany really has an amazing body. Her legs are clad in black leggings, which are mostly hidden by the black and yellow jacket she tied around her waist.

“Alright, young man. You up for round two?”

“Yeah.”

You try to sound relaxed, but you’re sure Tiffany heard that your voice was an octave higher than usual.

“Now, this will be the second part of the video we did yesterday. ‘My daughter’s classmate is back to work me out again’”

“Well, that’s a catchy title.”

It does sound a little over the top. But you do have to admit, if you saw that title on some porn site with Tiffany on the thumbnail, you’d click on it without another thought.

“Don’t get cheeky with me.”

Tiffany raised an eyebrow at your comment and is now reaching for her water bottle.

“Just because you’re dicking me down doesn’t mean you can come up with some snappy replies here and there.”

“What do you mean ‘here and there’? That’s just me.”

“Really? And where is the boy, who almost begged me to have sex with him yesterday?”

“I didn’t beg for anything. I was just hoping you would see this as an opportunity for you.”

Tiffany chuckles.

“For me? I have a feeling that you might be getting more out of this than I am.”

Her slightly raised eyebrows and her mocking tone seem to insinuate something.

“You mean the sex? I could call a girl in my class right now and she would be down for some fun.”

You try to sound relaxed, despite knowing that that’s not entirely true. She might. But you aren’t certain.

Despite always being more comfortable with skinship than others, Eunha has become more handsy recently. At least it seems like that to you. Her sitting on your lap in school did happen before, but the fact that she let your hand rest on her thigh… Interesting, to say the least.

But all of your thoughts on Eunha are quickly thrown to the side, when Tiffany steps in front of you.

“Although I don’t believe you, I think we should start with round number two.”

You nod, waiting for her lead. It still feels odd to you that this feels way more like work or a transactional relationship than it should be. But then again, you’re getting to have sex with Tiffany, so who are you to complain?

After she told you what to do, you sit on a bench nearby. Tiffany makes sure the camera is facing you, but not showing your face.

“Okay then.”

She nods at you, which is the signal for you to pretend as if you’re drinking.

As you do so, Tiffany starts the recording. She waits a moment, before walking into the frame.

“Oh, how are you doing?”

Her sudden cheerful attitude almost surprises you. She is able to switch so quickly. You wonder if Tiffany ever thought about being an actress.

“I’m good, thanks. I’m surprised to see you here, Ms. Hwang.”

“Why would you say that? Do you think all of this comes from nothing?”

She gestures down on herself. The camera, focused on her face, captures her satisfied smirk, when you look her up and down.

“No, I just-”

Tiffany puts a finger on your lips to shut you up.

“Listen. The gym is empty. We’re alone here. And I still remember what you did to me that night.”

“What are you trying to say, Ms. Hwang?”

“I want you to properly stretch me out again. Right here.”

She straddles your lap and you can feel her tight ass rubbing against your clothed cock. The second camera films the two of you from the side.

“R-Right here? But what if someone-”

Tiffany shuts you up once more, but with her lips this time. She makes sure to slowly grind herself on your cock, while the two of you deepen the kiss.

“I can’t wait to ride you again. I already started to miss your dick inside me.”

She speaks into your mouth, her words making you even harder than before.

You feel her tugging at the waistband of your shorts. Reaching around her, you grab two handfuls of her cheeks. Tiffany quickly pulls your shorts off your cock. Just enough, so she can wrap her hand around it. The other reaches for her bra, squeezing her own tits. You quickly undo the knot that holds up the light jacket around her waist. After throwing it away, you hook your fingers between her waist and her leggings.

“Don’t bother. Just rip ‘em.”

You look up at her with genuine surprise. You’ve never tried this before. But Tiffany’s lust filled eyes make you act quickly. You grab the black fabric right above her pussy. It’s already damp. Digging your fingers into the soft material, you pull at it. Tiffany gasps in arousal as she hears how you rip open her pants. You reveal her cleanly shaven pussy, her lips and the skin around it visibly wet. You’d have loved to give it another taste, but Tiffany has other things in mind. She spits into her hand, before wrapping it around your cock once more. Her wet hand now stroking your cock has you thrust up towards her.

“I can’t believe you’re this hard for me.”

Tiffany lifts herself off your lap and aligns your tip with her brown folds.

You watch how your length slowly disappears inside her already familiar pussy. Her eyes close quickly after. Your hands on Tiffany’s waist start to move her up and down. Her thighs flex on top of your lap as she follows your lead. Her own hands sneak around your neck, which pushes her chest further in your direction.

Tiffany’s moans become louder as the two of you pick up the pace. You thrust upwards, whenever you pull her down on you. You hit the deepest spots inside of her, which makes her hold onto your neck even harder. Her nails slightly dig into your skin.

“Really make me bounce on it, baby. I need it so bad.”

Her sigh makes you reach around her and grab her cheeks once more. The thin material almost makes it seem like she isn’t wearing pants at all. Having more leverage now, you lift Tiffany higher every time, before letting her fall onto your cock.

“Gosh, yes!”

Her cry tells you, you’re doing it right. Tiffany feels how you part her walls, how you stretch her out, with every bounce you make her do. Her eyes have been shut tightly this entire time. The pleasure overwhelms her as she completely forgets about the cameras surrounding the two of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Her lewd words are timed with every bounce, with every spike of pleasure you send up her spine. By now, her head is buried in your shoulder. Her hands have fallen down onto your back, her body slowly getting drained of its energy. That energy gets replaced by ecstasy. You can feel it too. How Tiffany keeps tightening around you. How her ripped open pants get wetter. She isn’t moving at all anymore. You’re doing all the work, lifting her up and down.

While you do so, the growing urge to just ruin her entire being becomes unbearable. Making her bounce on your length is nice and all. But you need to be more active. You really need to rail her, like you did before. Tiffany has awakened something in you. Something primal. Something that needs to use her body for its own pleasure.

You stop lifting her up. Tiffany lets out a cute whine of disappointment. If only you knew how close she was to-

You stand up, still buried deep inside of her.

“What are you doing?”

Her weak sigh leaves her lips, her mouth right next to your ear.

“I need to fuck you so bad.”

You speak through your teeth as you walk towards the pilates cadillac. Only glancing behind you once, you make sure the two of you are still getting filmed. Once you reach it, you do your best to let Tiffany down gracefully and turn her around. The feeling of her pussy doing this circular motion around your cock almost makes you creampie her right then and there. But you hold it together. Grabbing one of her legs, you lift it over one of the bars. Her ass looks even better from behind now. You make her take a step to the right, making sure the camera captures such a beautiful view.

Except for a moan here and there, Tiffany has kept quiet so far. But now that you’re thrusting into her again, her lips become busy once more.

“Fuck yes, harder!”

One of your hands is still holding onto her waist, while the other now reaches around her. You can’t help but give her tits some nice squeezes through her top. Tiffany’s moans become louder as she feels your hand groping her mounds, occasionally pinching her nipples on accident, due to the thin material.

“Shit, you’re good.”

Your hips smack against her thinly covered ass from behind, while you keep holding onto her waist and tits. But you can feel how Tiffany tightens around you once more. You feel her juices dripping down your cock.

“Your young cock feels so fucking good!”

Tiffany becomes louder and her words dirtier. It gets worse the harder and faster you fuck her. You catch a patch of red skin underneath your hand and you feel how she pushes your other hand further down. Your hand wanders over that tight midriff of hers. You still can’t believe you are able to touch it right now. So often did you stare at it, when you saw her around the neighborhood or at a school event. You always wondered how sexy she would look, with your cum all over her toned tummy.

“Right there, yes.” Tiffany mewls, your hand now reaching the torn part of her leggings.

You keep your pace steady, making sure your cock thrusts into her tight snatch as deep as it can go. At the same time, you now let your fingers touch her clit, turning her into a begging mess.

“Rub it harder, yes. Give it to me. Use me.”

“Fuck.”

You groan, feeling how Tiffany’s tight pussy slowly pushes you towards your orgasm. But you do your best to hang on. You can’t stop now. The feeling of her juices on your cock, how her walls give you these tight squeezes at random intervals….It just feels too good to stop.

Your fingers on her clit keep rubbing it, forcing Tiffany to shut her eyes once more, her mouth spewing more and more curse words. But soon, you can feel a new level of tightness. Her walls squeeze you harder, her body seems to have become warmer. Her moans are more frequent. And then, it happens.

“Oh! What the fuck?!”

You almost lose it as well. The both of you are surprised. But Tiffany is cuming on your cock. You feel her pussy tightening around you. Her walls massage your cock, her cute moans are higher than her usual ones. Unable to see it, you can only feel how her juices make your cock dripping wet. Some of her liquid spills out of the connection between the two of you, leaving a long trail on her skin, before it disappears underneath her pants

“Oh my god.”

Tiffany has calmed down and you think you’re ready to keep going again. It was almost too close for you. But you can’t help but smile, knowing you just made her cum.

“That was actually amazing.”

She is still breathing heavily. You’re not quite sure what did it for her. The position? The fact that you’re filming? The way you fucked her? Or the way you played with her clit? Maybe a mixture of some of them.

When she turns her head to look over her shoulder at you, you see a tired, out of breath Tiffany. But her eyes tell you to do it again. Make her cum around your cock, until she loses control.

You move her again, this time laying her down on the pilates cadillac. The black fabric feels cold against her bare back, but Tiffany is only distracted for a second. A moment later, she feels you entering her once more. You kneel on the bench she is lying on, now holding onto both her thighs.

“That’s it. Right there.”

She moans, her pussy stretching around your cock easier now. Both, her hole and your dick, are wet with her juices, which ensures a smoother fucking.

“Lift my hips.”

Her moan, or rather order, makes you hold onto her waist. You lift her up, but not without a little bit of embarrassment. You would like to think that you are fine with learning more from her, but at the same time, you already want to be the best. You want to turn her into a mumbling mess, without her needing to tell you what feels best for her.

You raise her ass off the fabric, wanting to prove how well you can do. Soon, Tiffany’s hands land on her white top once more. You watch her groping and massaging her own tits through the thin material.

“That’s it, baby. You stretch me out so good.”

Your fingers dig further into the skin on her waist. One side is already red from the previous position you put her in. This way, you can drive yourself even deeper inside of her. The angle makes it possible. Gliding along her smooth walls, you suddenly hit a slightly rougher spot. The touch makes Tiffany’s back arch as she throws her head back.

“Fuck, yes! That’s the spot! Right there!”

She sounds almost desperate. As if she is afraid you wouldn’t be able to hit it again. But your next thrust lands on the same spot. You tip grazes along its small length, sending jolts of pleasure through Tiffany’s system. As you feel your own orgasm starting to approach, you pick up the pace a little, hoping you don’t cum too early.

Soon, the both of you are almost there. You can feel the familiar signs around your cock. Tiffany’s tight walls, her juices, her lips, which stick to your length whenever you move. And Tiffany can feel your cock throbbing, how you get thrown off your rhythm. Your thrusts become irregular, which surprisingly turns her on even more. The fact that she is about to make you cum again. That you can’t fight her pussy.

One last, deep trust is all it takes for the both of you to groan in union. You shoot your cum deep inside Yeji’s mom once more, while Tiffany milks your cock with her tight snatch. Her pink walls squeeze every drop out of your cock, until you’re completely spent.

After the two of you have recovered, you scoot back a little. You watch how your cum leaves her freshly fucked pussy. When you look behind her, you realize that this last part was barely filmed. Tiffany’s head was definitely in the way. But you don’t really care right now. You are still catching your breath, while one last jolt rushes through Tiffany’s body. You feel proud of yourself, knowing you made her cum. Twice. This feels even better than just fucking her, or getting to cum inside of her. The fact that you were able to make her orgasm and it even got captured on camera, places a dumb smile on your face.

You empty your bottle after your third rep of squats. While sweat drips from your soaked hair, you walk towards the water dispenser in the corner of the large room. Tiffany left barely fifteen minutes ago. After she looked presentable again, you accompanied her outside and waited for her to drive off, before you started your workout. The loud sound of the water hitting the insides of your bottle echoes through the otherwise silent building. That’s why you’re more than just surprised, when you hear a door open on your right. It’s the women’s locker room. The men’s is on the left. Turning towards the door, you are greeted by a gorgeous and welcoming smile.

“Hello, Ms. Im.”

“You’re Minju’s friend, right?”

Im Yoona doesn’t stop smiling at you as she walks out of the locker room.

“Yes. We have most of our classes together.”

“Of course I know you. My daughter talks a lot about you. Plus, I’m your mother’s friend, remember?”

That’s true. Ms. Im and your mom are more than just business partners. But lately, you barely do anything but focus on school and working out, so you don’t see Ms. Im often.

She leans forward a little, before putting her hand next to her mouth as if she doesn’t want anyone to read her lips. The gym is completely empty, but she only whispers.

“One might think she wants to be more than just friends.”

You’re not sure what to say. Minju is a pretty girl. But just a friend.

“I got you there, didn’t I?”

Ms. Im lets out a satisfied laugh, visibly amused by your flustered reaction. While she collects herself again, you finish filling up your bottle.

“You should come over more often though. Minju mentioned the two of you are doing your homework together today?”

You nod. Since your place is closer to school than Minju’s, the two of you usually hang out at yours after school.

“In the afternoon, yes. Ms. Kim told us to write an essay.”

“Ah, history. That’s why Minju asked you to work together.”

You’re surprised that Ms. Im knows that that’s your strong suit.

The two of you walk towards the other side of the gym, where you left your towel.

“Are you going to continue?”

You look up at Ms. Im’s question, after sitting down on the floor.

“Uhm, yes I am.”

You use the towel to clean the sweat off your face.

“Well, you’re totally wet. I don’t know if sweating this much is healthy.”

“I’m sorry.”

You feel a little embarrassed, remembering that you’re a soaked mess. You probably don’t smell so great either right now.

"No, it's fine. I just don’t want you to do too much. You look like you’ve already been working out a lot recently.”

“Thank you, Ms. Im. I’m just… You know, trying to get a little more physical.”

“Oh, I can see that.”

You feel an embarrassed flush on your cheeks. You’re not used to getting compliments. Especially not from a gorgeous woman like Ms. Im. Now that you’ve calmed down a little, you’re finally able to take in her outfit. She is wearing tight black yoga pants and a gray sweatshirt. But the sweatshirt is only covering the upper half of her upper body. You marvel at Ms. Im’s toned midriff for just a moment.

“Thank you, Ms. Im. You look very…”

You search for the right words to describe Minju’s mother. After getting drained by Tiffany twice in a row, your dirty mind is still active. Sexy or fit don’t really seem appropriate.

“Very much in shape too. But I usually don’t see you often here.”

“Thanks, sweetie. I do a lot of my workouts and stretches at home. Privacy and all that, you know?”

When she mentions that she stretches, your dirty mind is working overtime once more. It almost feels like Tiffany has corrupted you. Now, you just want to place your hands on her thighs, run them over her leggings, feel her ass, touch that midriff and-

You stop yourself. She is still Minju’s mother. This isn’t right.

“I get it.”

You smile at her, before taking a gulp of your water.

“But what are you doing here then, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Ms. Im lets out a melodic chuckle at your curiosity.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

With a teasing wink, Ms. Im disappears into the room you and Tiffany defiled earlier. You just hope you cleaned up everything.

You continue on with your workout. You and the two girls decided on 4 pm, which is in two hours. So you still have about an hour before you have to head home. After taking another sip of water, you pick up two dumbbells and continue with your routine. Watching yourself in the mirror, you catch how sweaty you are yet again. Ms. Im probably didn’t mean anything by it, but her comment made you a little self conscious now. You finish the first set with ease. The second one is a struggle towards the end. And the third makes your arms burn. Your sweat is dripping off your brows now, you can taste it on your lips. Just when you’re about to start set number four, you see the door to the pilates room open behind you through the mirror.

Ms. Im walks out of the room. You can’t help but stare, especially since she opened her sweater while she was gone. She is now showing off her black sports bra, which is matching her pants.

You only realize she is walking towards you when your eyes meet through the mirror. Putting the dumbbells back on the rack, you reach for your towel. Turning around, you wipe your face, just when she comes to a hold right in front of you.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your workout, but would you mind lending me a hand?”

Once more, your dirty mind goes into overdrive. It wouldn’t have been a problem anywhere else. But her choice of words, the empty gym… You can’t help but fantasize just a little.

“Of course, Ms. Im. How can I help you?”

“Well, I play a dance teacher in an upcoming drama.”

Minju’s mom is a famous actress. She is in a lot of good movies and dramas. So you’re actually excited to hear that she is working on something new.

“And so I’m working on my flexibility and learning a couple of dance moves. But I’m still having some trouble with specific positions. Since no one else is here”

She gestures around the empty gym.

“I had hoped you could spare me a couple of minutes.”

“I’d love to.”

“Great.”

Ms. Im beams up at you, before taking your hand and leading you inside the pilates room.

“By the way, do you know who’s bottle this is? I found it here.”

She points at the blue bottle, which is standing on the dresser to your right.

"Ah, yes. That’s Ms. Hwang’s. We worked out together earlier today.”

“Really?”

Ms. Im turns around to look at you. Her expression looks a little weird to you. Her brows are furrowed, her lips pressed together. Does she know that Tiffany…You hope not. You don’t want her to think you slept with Yeji’s mom.

“Yes, since she is a fitness coach and all that, she gave me some pointers. We ran into each other outside.”

You’re surprised to see her scoff. She mumbles something under her breath, before she leads you past the mats and the pilates cadillac.

You could’ve sworn you heard her say:

“Sons too now? Slut.”

But why would Ms. Im assume you slept with Tiffany, just because you two worked out? Weird. Maybe you heard wrong. Or did she catch her sleeping with someone else and now thinks you slept with her too because of that?

Your thoughts come to a halt, when you see Ms. Im choosing a song on her phone. She presses the plus button on her speaker a couple of times and the room starts to fill with music.

“I’m sorry Ms. Im, but I’m not really a good dancer.”

“Did you never learn how to dance?”

“Just a little. With my…ex.”

She definitely caught your pause. Because her face changes a little.

“Oh no. The two of you broke up?”

Ms. Im’s voice is full of empathy. She strokes your arm, looking at you with pity.

“Yeah. Couple weeks back.”

“I’m sorry, dear. I know how much that sucks.”

While it is nice to get comforted, you also feel a little off. You don’t need anyone's pity. You’re not five anymore. You can deal with this on your own.

“It’s alright. We didn’t have a big fight or something.”

“Is that the reason why you’re working out so much recently? Trying to get over your breakup?”

“I think I’m over her already. But thank you for caring.”

Ms. Im looks like she is about to say something, but decides to stay silent.

“If you show me what you need me to do, I will try my best.”

“That’s sweet of you, honey.”

You can still see the sympathy in her eyes, but she starts to explain what she needs you to do.

After the fourth song you feel like you’re already an expert. Ms. Im really is a good teacher. You can now move to the rhythm easier, while focusing on actually helping her practice. Your hands are connected, while her other one is resting on your shoulder and yours is placed right on her waist. You’d usually wear something more formal like a dress and a suit for this kind of dance, but it’s nice nonetheless.

Being aware that your hand is occasionally grazing her naked waist makes you a little nervous. This is Minju’s mother after all. Your mind keeps going places it shouldn’t. If you would just pull her a little closer, so her body is flush against yours…Or lean down a little, admiring her gorgeous eyes… Let your hand move further up, so it’s fully placed on her naked skin…

So many inappropriate thoughts are running through your head, that you couldn't hear what she just said.

“I think I got a hang of this. It feels natural now.”

“Oh, sure.”

The two of you come to a hold. Ms. Im turns off the music, before walking up to the ballet bar close to the wall where the mirrors are.

“I hope you still have some time to spare? There are one or two positions I’m still struggling with.”

“No problem. I have more than enough time.”

You smile at her as you step closer.

“Great. So, there is a scene in the drama , where I teach a ballet class and I need to show off my flexibility…”

Ms. Im takes a hold of the bar on her left side and raises her right leg. You watch in awe as it goes higher and higher, until her foot is almost the same height as her chest.

“Wow, that’s pretty impressive.”

“But I need to get my foot on the same height as my head. So if you wouldn’t mind lifting it for me further, I would really appreciate it.”

“Sure.”

You hesitate for a second, not exactly sure on where to grab her. But you eventually decide on her thigh and her calf, pushing her leg upwards.You don’t stop, until you see her furrow her brows and hiss in pain.

“Sorry.”

You mumble, about to lower her leg again.

“No, it’s fine. Give me a second.”

The two of you don’t move for a couple of seconds, until Ms. Im nods.

“Okay, keep going.”

The determination on her face makes you lift her leg further. You’re almost there, but she shakes her head, obviously in pain again.

“You almost got it.”

You try to encourage her and Ms. Im gives you the signal to keep going. You feel yourself leaning against her a little as you push her leg up to her limit. Eventually, her foot does reach her ear. You see her other leg shake slightly, but she doesn’t say anything. Looking down, you lock eyes with her. When you catch her stealing a glance of your lips, you realize how close the two of you are. You back away a little and lower her leg. Ms. Im sighs in relief.

“Thank you. Can we try again?”

You help her out five more times. When she lifts her leg for attempt number six, you watch her foot finally reach her head on its own. Ms. Im lifts her head to look at the ceiling, doing her best to copy the exact stance. You only last a second. You can’t help but give her center a quick glance. Since her leg is raised high, you have a perfect view of the outlines of her lips. Barely visible, but they are definitely there.

“Alright.”

You immediately focus back on her face as she slowly puts her leg down again.

“I think this was enough for today. Thank you for helping me.”

“It was my pleasure, Ms. Im.”

You see her putting on her thinking face, her elbow resting on her other arm, her chin placed in her hand.

“I feel like I should help you out too. And I think I know just the thing.”

Your eyes widen, when hers focus on your shorts.

“Ms. Im?”

“Well, you say you’re over your ex, but you’re clearly not. So why don’t I help you see clearly again, hmm?”

You’re surprised when she suddenly steps forward and reaches for your crotch. Her hand cups your length through the thin material of your shorts.

“I don’t know-”

“It’s okay, honey.”

Ms. Im smiles up at you.

“I can see, you still like her. But trust me, it’s not healthy for you to keep thinking about her this way.”

You swallow hard, fully aware that your friend’s mother is gently stroking your cock through your shorts.

“Ms. Im, I don’t know if this is really appro-”

“Come on, honey.”

She whispers, her hands already pulling down your elastic waistband.

“Let me give you a treat.”

Her eyes focus on your crotch again, when your shorts drop to the floor, your boxers with them.You see her smirk as she wraps a hand around your shaft.

“Looks like I’m in for a treat too.”

You can’t believe this is actually happening. Ms. Im, Minju’s mother, squats down in front of you, her hand still around your cock. She looks up at you with a caring smile, before slowly opening her mouth and guiding you inside. You hold your breath, feeling hers on your skin. But before she closes her lips around your shaft, she pulls back.

“Just teasing you a little.”

Her mischievous smile makes you bite your lip. Suddenly Ms. Im places her lips on your naked thigh. She gives you a kiss and then sticks out her tongue. You let out a deep breath as you feel her licking up your thigh, towards your crotch. You can see how your sweat leaves your skin and finds itself on her tongue.

Still too stunned to do anything, you watch her do the same to your other thigh.

“Delicious.”

She kisses your abdomen, right above your cock.

You can’t believe that this is actually happening. This is way different from what you have with Tiffany. For some reason, this feels more intimate. Her smile tells you how much she likes the taste of your sweat as she licks her lips. You never expected Minju’s mother to act like this.

Her hand is still giving your cock long, slow strokes, while she peppers the skin around it with small kisses. She gives you an occasional lick, which sends goosebumps up your spine every time.You never had anyone do this to you before. But it looks like Ms. Im is thoroughly enjoying it. She gives your inner thighs a long, slow lick on either side. You hear her humming with satisfaction, before she backs away again.

“Your body tastes so good. I could do this for hours.”

Pictures of Ms. Im, cleaning your whole body, flash through your head. You feel yourself getting harder at the thought. This feels dirty to you. Too dirty for Minju’s mother to do it. Or even consider doing it. But there she is, squatting in front of you, with your dick in her hand.

“You can relax, honey. I can feel how tense you are.”

Ms. Im gives you another loving smile as she gives your thighs gentle squeezes.

“Let me take care of you. And enjoy yourself.”

She places both hands right next to your cock, her palms pressed flat against your skin. You hold your breath as she leans forward yet again, mouth open to welcome your cock. You feel her warm breath, You see how your cock disappears inside her mouth. And finally, Ms. Im wraps her lips around you.

With her eyes closed, she stays in place, her tongue swirling around your tip. Your dick is getting wetter by the second as she warms it with her mouth. Her tongue keeps dancing along on your skin, until it finds the underside of your shaft. She presses it flat against your cock from beneath. And then Ms. Im starts to move her head. Lips still wrapped around you in a tight seal, she begins to slowly fuck her mouth with your cock. You can’t help but thrust forward a little, whenever she moves further towards you. Your hands hang loose on either side of you, your fingers scratching the empty air. Reaching forward, you place your hands on her head. Ms. Im moves a little faster, but you make sure that she is the one who is controlling the pace.

When she moves back far enough to let your cock fall out of her mouth, she looks up at you with a satisfied smile playing around her lips.

“I can’t tell what it is. But your cock…”

She doesn’t continue. Instead, she gives your tip a kiss, her eyes closed as she seems to be enjoying the taste.

It’s not like you’re complaining. Actually, it’s kinda hot to hear Ms. Im say how much she loves your taste. But you never had the same reaction with your ex or Tiffany. The thought of Tiffany reminds you of your earlier session with her. Is that it? Does Ms. Im like how Tiffany’s pussy tastes on your cock? Who could blame her? Tiffany tastes amazing. You can vouch for that.

“I haven’t had such a delicious dick in ages.”

Ms. Im continues to swoon over your cock. You still vividly remember how Tiffany orgasmed around your cock. How she drenched you in her juices.

“I really can’t get enough of it.”

Ms. Im takes you into her mouth once more. Her eyes closed, enjoying the taste. You feel her tongue roaming all over your cock, making sure she is giving attention to even the smallest of places. Right underneath your tip, circling around it. And then moving along your length, letting you feel her tongue almost slip out between her lips. As Ms. Im increases her pace further, you occasionally feel yourself hitting the wall in the back of her mouth. It almost seems like she is teasing you, by only giving you an idea what her throat might feel like. She becomes sloppier as well, the result of sucking you off too quickly. You see a strand of spit escape the corners of her mouth here and there. Your whole cock is glistening with her saliva by now and yet she won’t take you deeper.

Which you are actually thankful for. Because you doubt you would last much longer, if Ms. Im would start to deepthroat you now. Tiffany’s throat game is deadly, and Ms. Im seems skilled enough to make you cum immediately too.

But to your surprise, she moves her head back, until your cock falls out of her mouth. You let out an involuntary sigh of disappointment, when you leave her warmth.

“You’re doing great, honey.”

Her teasing smile shows that she knows that you won’t be able to take her blowjob much longer. You feel her hands, which have moved to your cock, stroking your length once more.

“Tell me. Is there a place you ex wouldn’t let you cum, after a blowjob?”

You slowly nod.

Ms. Im hums in understanding as she places your length right over her lips.

“Poor boy.”

Her sympathetic tone and eyes, which are looking up at you, are making you shudder.

“I promise you can do whatever you want. Let me help you to forget her.”

“I…”

You take a deep breath. You’re reminded of the fact that this is Minju’s mother. Your friend’s mother. She knew you since you were little. The two of you shouldn’t be doing this. But your lips move, before your brain can take control.

“I’d like to cum on your face.”

You hold your breath, afraid you asked for too much. But Ms. Im’s reassuring smile makes you sigh in relief and anticipation.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Her lips move against your cock as she speaks.

For a moment, you feel like Ms. Im is very similar to Tiffany. How she acts, how she uses this seductive tone, the way she smiles at you as if she knows exactly what you need, even if you don’t know that yourself.

You watch her open her mouth, taking your cock back inside. Your ex honestly can’t really compare, you realize. Ms. Im was right. She does help you to forget about her. Her and Tiffany, to be precise. You wonder if it’s because of their age? Their experience? Maybe. It just feels different with the two of them. Better. More natural.

The sound of Ms. Im, fucking her face on your cock yet again, brings you back to reality. This time, her hands aren’t placed on your hips, but wrapped around your base. She doesn’t use them though. Only her lips and tongue work to make you cum eventually.

Now that you’ve realized how similar Ms. Im and Tiffany are, you also catch some differences. Ms. Im’s lips are wrapped around your cock in a tighter manner. Tiffany likes to take more of you in one go. The younger of the two uses her tongue more, while Tiffany likes to use her throat.

But Ms. Im doesn’t take all of your cock. Just enough to make you hit the wall. She could probably take all of you, if she wanted, but it really does seem like she is playing with you. Just thinking about how she is toying with you turns you on even more. Her blowjob shows that she isn’t just doing it to make you cum. She likes it too, she plays with you, giving you what you need, but not enough of it. Until there is no return.

Ms. Im lures you in, making your own orgasm sneak up on you. It builds slowly, then it drops again, but then she picks it back up again. And suddenly, you feel the inevitable urge to cum. Your fingers dig into her scalp a little, your hips bucking forward. Within a matter of seconds, Ms. Im has pushed you to the edge. The edge, which you’re now about to fall from.

“I-”

You can’t warn her. Can’t hold back. The last part of her blowjob defeats you within seconds.

But Ms. Im feels how your cock suddenly becomes harder. How it pulsates inside her mouth. How you thrust into her, ready to finally cum.

But she isn’t quick enough for the first hit. Or maybe she did it on purpose?

A long streak of your cum hits the back of her mouth. Before you can release more, Ms. Im opens her mouth wide, pulls your cock out and aims it at her face. You try your best to watch as your orgasm overwhelms you. You see how you paint most of her face. Her nose, her left cheek, her lips. Your cum stains her beautiful face. But instead of complaining like your ex would’ve done, Ms. Im smiles up at you, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Your cum tastes just as good as your sweat. Warm. And salty.”

She licks her lips and you can only marvel at how beautiful she looks with your cum all over her face.

You never thought about someone being into sweat. Specifically yours. But Ms. Im returns her attention to the rest of your body now. With a cum covered face, she licks along your thighs once more. Her eyes closed as she enjoys the taste.

You feel completely drained. The combination of your prior workout and Ms. Im’s blowjob proves too much for your body. Your legs slightly buckle as her tongue swipes over the skin right above your cock. Trying to recover your strength, you stand in place for a while, watching how she licks more sweat off your body. But when you feel Ms. Im’s tongue dip lower, giving your balls a drawn out lick, you feel your cock slowly hardening again. You wonder if she would give you another blowjob, if you asked her for it. The thought of her sucking your dick again, almost makes you fully hard once more. Just when Ms. Im wraps her lips around one of your balls, you hear chatter outside.

Fuck, someone is coming. By the sounds of it, a group of women. Which usually means they’re heading right for this room. The room you’re in. The room in which Ms. Im is still sucking the sweat off your balls.

“Ms. Im, someone is coming.”

She doesn't respond, her eyes closed, while yours scan the room for something to wipe her face with.

“Ms. Im, we need to hurry.”

“Hm? Right.”

She almost looks like she woke up from a trance. She gives your cock one last long lick, which sends sparks up your spine, before she gets back to her feet. You quickly rush over to get her the small box of tissues, which is standing next to Tiffany’s forgotten bottle.

“Here.”

You watch her clean her face for a second, before you pull your boxers and shorts back up, which you almost tripped over on your way to get her the small green box.

“Oppa!”

Kim Minju waves at you as she sees you crossing the road, on your way to Eunha’s place. As she walks closer, she notices how your hair is still wet. You probably took a shower before you left the house.

“Hey, Minju!”

She can’t help, but send a smile your way. Momentarily forgetting that she is kinda angry at you. She asked you to come over to her place, so the two of you can work together. She doesn’t need a third wheel. Especially not someone like Eunha. The other girl always does what she wants. She gets away with almost everything with her stupid aegyo and the boys in class always have red faces, whenever Eunha decides to wear one of those ridiculously short skirts.

It’s not like Minju hates her. That’s not it. And she isn’t jealous either. Eunha isn’t a ten out of ten. And there are worse girls than her in your and Minju’s class. But she was hoping for a quiet and relaxed Sunday afternoon with you, before Eunha’s party starts. And Eunha will probably get a little too comfortable with you again. Like touching your shoulder or arm or thigh, or even sitting in your lap again. Minju shakes her head. She should try to stay positive. Afterall, this is mainly Eunha’s personality. Most of the time, that's just who she is.

The two of you finally meet in front of the driveway. You give Minju a quick hug, before you walk towards the front door. Minju trails after you, taking a glance at the cars parked nearby. She saw Eunha drive the white Mercedes once. That was the only time Minju was ever really jealous of her. Because she doesn’t have her drivers license yet. Minju has always been more focused on studying for school. She can always get it later anyways.

“Hi, guys!”

You must have rung the doorbell without Minju noticing, because Eunha has opened the door already and is giving you a hug. Minju escapes a scoff, when she sees what Eunha is wearing. Relaxing afternoon, goodbye. Luckily, she is standing too far away, so the both of you didn’t hear her.

Minju takes another look at Eunha’s outfit as she walks up to her. She is wearing a skimpy pink top with a white bra underneath, the edges peeking out from under the pink fabric. Her whole midriff is exposed. And her skirt is way too short. Minju can even see a hint of Eunha’s white panties, because the hem of her skirt is almost at the same height as her center.

The two girls exchange a quick hug, before Eunha invites you and Minju inside.

“You guys want anything to drink?”

“Maybe some of the stuff you have for the party?”

Your joke earns you an elbow to the ribs by Minju.

“You’re not drinking now, oppa.”

“Then a coke, if you have some.”

“Make it two. But zero please.”

“Sure. Make yourselves comfortable.”

Eunha gestures at the dinner table. If only you had known how often you’d sit at that table in the future.

You and Minju take your places next to each other. While Minju is already taking her stuff out of her bag, you quickly check your phone. While you reply to a message in your class's group chat, you get a notification. A picture sent by Tiffany. You open it. Your eyes grow wide, focused on the picture. But when you hear Minju rustle around next to you, you quickly glance at her. She is busy with herself. Thank god. You tilt your phone a little away from her, hoping she won’t be able to see what you’re looking at.

The picture is a full body shot of Tiffany in a mirror. She is clearly showing off her ass, while she is standing sideways. It’s clad in tight white lace panties, which show off every curve of her peach. Now, you see the text that was sent with it.

“A gift from one of my subscribers. They want you to fuck your friend’s mom again.”

You swallow hard as you feel yourself getting hard once more. How is that even possible? You came three times already today. The words friend’s mom make you realize what you just did in the gym. Minju’s mother gave you a blowjob. Your friend’s mother. You came on her face even. A cold shudder runs down your spine just thinking about what would happen if Minju finds out.

“Would you mind putting your phone away?”

You almost fall off your seat at Minju’s words.

“Yeah, sorry.”

You say unnecessarily loud.

Eunha has just reached the table, placing two cans of coke zero in front of you and Minju, while also holding a glass of apple juice for herself. She takes her seat on your right and you take your tablet out of your bag. Minju has already started working a little it seems. Her own tablet already shows off a couple of notes.

“Alright then.”

Minju looks at the two of you.

“Ms. Kim said that our essay has to be about the Roman gods. So do we just name them and say what they stood for? Maybe add a legend or two?”

You have to admit you haven’t really thought about the task, until now. But Ms. Kim often gives the class only vague tasks for homework, because she likes to see how everyone interprets her words. You like it. It gives you freedom. And while she is usually quite strict, especially if you did nothing at all, the bar isn’t very high.

“I think everyone would do that though. It can’t be that easy.”

“Well, her last topic was the birth of Rome. And now gods…”

Minju gets lost in her train of thought, while you are searching for an answer as well.

“What do you think?”

You turn to Eunha.

“Well, didn’t she say something about the birth of Rome having two versions? A historical one and a fictional one?”

“True. Romulus and Remus. But apart from their father supposedly being Mars, I don’t know how the gods tie into this.”

“Oh.”

Eunha’s pen hits the floor underneath the table. It slipped out of her hand. But instead of getting up and crawling under the table, Eunha leans in your direction and downwards. Suddenly, her head is resting in your lap, her cheek pressed flat against your thigh. You hold your breath as she blindly searches with her fingers for the pen. Once she gets it, Eunha gets back up.While she does so, she places her hand on your thigh as well. Her pinky dangerously close to your crotch.

“Sorry, my bad.”

She gives you a cute smile. If you would’ve turned around, you would have seen Minju, rolling her eyes.

Now you need a moment to collect yourself, before you’re finally able to come up with an idea.

“Maybe it’s not just about Roman gods. I mean, there are similarities between Greek, Roman and Egyptian gods. Ms. Kim could’ve thought about that.”

“But then, she would’ve said that.”

You nod at Minju’s comment, but Eunha shakes her head.

“I think you’re right. It makes sense. Since the Romans did kinda copy the Greek gods, right?”

“They did. You think that’s what she was talking about?”

“You’re the best at history.”

Eunha pats your thigh, giving you a cute smile.

“I trust you.”

“Fine. Let’s go with that then. Minju?”

You turn towards her, trying to ignore Eunha’s hand, which is still lying on your thigh.

“Sure. Where do you want to start?”

The three of you get to work. While Eunha makes a list of the most important gods, you and Minju search for their Greek and Egyptian equivalents. Minju is very aware of what is going on in the shadows though. Eunha’s hand, which sometimes lingers on your thigh too long. Her naked leg touching yours, when she scoots a little closer. And especially how Eunha occasionally fixes her top, while you talk to her. It’s not jealousy that is fueling Minju’s growing anger. It’s the fact that Eunha even dares to do all of it right in front of her. And that you don’t even seem to notice. Minju expected you to tell Eunha to stop. Or at least acknowledge it in some way. But to her, it looks like you’re completely oblivious.

Which is definitely not true. Because from the moment Eunha placed her head on your thigh, you keep trying to focus on your homework. Eunha is cute. And hot. There is no doubt about it. And if Minju wasn’t here, maybe you’d fool around with her a little. But Minju is here. And you don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.

“The next one is Venus. I forgot what she stands for?”

Minju rolls her eyes once more. But instead of saying anything, she takes a big sip of her coke, trying to drown her anger.

“It’s the goddess of love and sex.”

“Kinky.”

Eunha wiggles her eyebrows at you. You clear your throat, trying to prevent any escalation.

“Yeah. Her Greek equivalent is Aphrodite and her Egyptian one is Hathor.”

“That’s the goddess with the cow head, right?”

“Yes.”

Minju writes it down after getting your confirmation.

“What do you think the sex goddess looks like?”

Eunha’s question makes you silently dig your fingers into your own thigh. She couldn’t be more obvious. And if Minju didn’t notice yet, she now must know for sure.

“I’m not sure. I mean, she isn’t real, right?”

“Well, if she would be. What do you think she’d look like?”

Minju hesitates for a moment. She can sense how you’re trying to avoid the question. But she's had enough of this. She can’t let Eunha toy with you the whole afternoon and she can’t stand the fact you only seem to notice now what’s actually going on.

“There are a lot of different statues of all three of them. You can just check them out and-”

“Oh come on, oppa. Tell us. What do you think she would look like?”

Minju places her hand on your shoulder. Her question makes your heart drop. You swear you heard a slight hint of anger in her voice. And while the two of you annoy each other from time to time, you’re still great friends. You don’t want to hurt her. You think about it for a while, trying to come up with an answer, which would get you out of this once and for all.

“Like my ideal woman. My type.”

“Yes, but what is that?”

You focus on your can of coke, which means you miss the anger filled eye contact the two girls share. Minju is annoyed by Eunha and by you. And Eunha can’t believe Minju is now trying to compete with her for your attention. This was her idea after all. It’s not like she always had a crush on you. But Eunha did notice how you grew up over the last couple years. You work out more and take care of yourself better. But when she sat in your lap a couple of days ago, she could feel that you were more than happy to have her sit on you. Eunha couldn’t help but slightly grind on it for a second, hoping you wouldn’t notice. She got curious how big you actually are. That’s why she planned on seducing you today. Minju coming along completely ruined this day for her.

“I don’t know. A beautiful face? A fit body?”

“That’s all?”

Eunha places her hand on your thigh once more.

“There must be some other features on a girl’s body you find attractive, right?”

“Come on, oppa.”

Minju makes you focus back on her.

“Tell us. We don’t bite.”

Minju’s smile does seem genuine, but you are not one to take these kinds of risks.

“Sorry ladies, need to head to the bathroom real quick.”

You quickly get off your chair.

“Down the hall, on your left.”

“Thanks, Eunha.”

You leave the two girls alone. Once you reach the bathroom, you sigh in relief. That was close.

“What the hell, Minju?”

“What?”

Minju plays innocent.

“Oh, please. Keep it in your pants.”

“Excuse me? You are the one who is barely wearing anything to begin with.”

“This is my house. I can wear whatever I want.”

Eunha gets off her chair to put away her empty glass.

“Why are you suddenly trying to get in my way anyway? The two of you have been just friends for years. You suddenly got the hots for him, or what?”

“Eww, no.”

Minju makes a disgusted face, but even she can’t fool herself anymore. The stupid, dumb, childish boy she once knew is already mostly gone.

“But I don’t want my friend to start seeing a slut like you.”

“What did you just call me?”

Even when she is angry, her hands at her waist, her brows furrowed, Eunha is still hella cute.

“Have you even looked at yourself?”

Minju, who is still sitting, gestures at Eunha, who is standing in front of the table.

“I can see your panties from here.”

“That’s the point. Do you think he saw them too?”

Eunha wiggles her eyebrows and gives Minju a satisfied smile.

“Trust me, Minju. I don’t wanna be rude or anything, but you don’t have much going for you, that you could show off anyway.”

Minjus scoffs in disbelief, rolling her eyes.

“Who says I want to show off anything to begin with? And I do have enough to show off.”

Eunha shakes her head.

“You don’t have big tits. Or ass. Not even thighs.”

She lifts her leg, placing her foot on a chair.

“Look at mine. Do you know how many guys stare at my thighs at school?”

Eunha places her foot back on the ground with a victorious smile playing around her lips.

“All of them.”

“Oh, really? If I wanted to, I could make every guy fall for me. But I’m just not a slut like you are.”

“Prove it then.”

Eunha crosses her arms in front of her chest.

The two of them stare at each other for a while, without saying a word. Eunha doesn’t want to back down. She knows that she has bigger thighs and a great butt. On the other hand, Minju isn’t sure what she should do next. But when she hears the bathroom door open, she acts quickly.

Eunha raises an eyebrow as Minju reaches for the zipper on her top. She starts to pull it down. The two girls keep eye contact, right until you walk back into the dining room.

“There you are.”

Eunha reacts first, giving you a cute smile, while Minju lets go of her zipper. She quickly glances down, to see how far she pulled it down. She sighs in relief. Not too far, but enough for you to notice the top of her black bra. Now Minju regrets not putting on the one with the lace on it, when she was deciding on what to wear earlier.

“How do you guys feel about snacks? I’m starving.”

“Sure, thanks Eunha.”

You reciprocate her smile, before sitting down.

Minju pulls her collar a little to the sides, making sure you have a better view of her cleavage. But her jaw almost drops, when she sees what Eunha is now doing.

The older girl reaches up to grab a box of sweets, which were placed inside one of the higher drawers. But she is way too small, so she has to get on her tiptoes. Your eyes are focused on her as well now. Because as Eunha stretches upwards to get the colorful box, her skirt raises as well. You get a very good view of her thighs, then a hint of her white panties. And eventually, Eunha basically shows off her whole ass. If you weren’t hard before, then you are definitely hard now.

Minju’s body heats up in anger. No way that wasn’t intentional.

“Oppa.”

You quickly turn around to look at Minju. She didn’t catch you staring, did she? As you look at her face, you notice how her top is now more open than before.

“So for the second part…”

She is focused on her tablet while she speaks, but you can’t focus properly. You’re busy with giving her cleavage a glance, and another one, and another one, and-

You shake your head. What is the problem with you today? How is it possible you’re still this horny after going two rounds with Tiffany and receiving a blowjob from Ms. Im?

“Here you go.”

Eunha places the box of sweets in front of you as she sits back down. But instead of sitting normal, she puts one leg up, her foot resting on the chair. She reaches for a chocolate bar and starts to eat it with her chin on her knee.

You’re almost too scared to look down. At this point it feels like the two of them are doing this on purpose. But that sounds ridiculous. Minju has been your friend for years. Why would she suddenly try to make a move on you? And Eunha? Well, she is always a little handsy, but today it’s a little much. Or is this your dirty mind speaking again? Are you trying to make more out of this than it actually is?

You pick a chocolate bar as well and start to eat it to calm your nerves, as the three of you get back to it. But your situation doesn’t improve much. Now Minju is the one who places her hand on your arm more often than you can count. She touched your hand as well, while she was reaching for the small box. And at the same time, she leaned over, giving you a proper look down her top. You’ve never seen this much of her. And only now do you realize how pretty Minju really is. Not just her chest, but her face as well. Her big eyes seem to constantly look at you with affection, her brows furrow, whenever she concentrates on the task at hand. And her lips look better than you remember.

Meanwhile, Eunha has unbuttoned two more buttons on her top, saying it’s way too warm for her. She is basically giving you a full view of her clothed pussy and her thighs look better than ever.

But Eunha notices how your attention slowly drifts more and more towards Minju. And you can’t deny it either. While Eunha is beautiful and all, it’s Minju with whom you share a deeper connection with. Your eyes keep wandering between her tablet and her chest, while the two of you start to finish the assignment. Eunha gets annoyed by your lack of attention. After all, this is her house. And she is the one who planned on having fun with you. Not Minju. You and her are turned towards her tablet, your backs almost facing Eunha by now. To be fair, Eunha isn’t really working anyways.

“Fine then.”

She thinks to herself, ready to finish this once and for all.

Eunha lifts herself off her own chair and gets closer to you. In one swift motion, she lands on your lap, pretending nothing is happening, while looking at Minju’s tablet as well.

“Eunha…”

You try to protest, but you know it’s already too late. She must feel how hard you are. How your clothed cock is slightly rubbing against her panties as she gets comfortable on top of you. And Minju is starting to scream on the inside. How can Eunha be this daring? This slutty? Right in front of her? And why aren’t you stopping her?

Minju tries to suppress her emotions to the best of her abilities. You aren’t her boyfriend. So technically, it’s not her place to say anything. But still…. She can’t just sit here and watch.

As subtle as possible, Eunha takes your left hand and places it on her naked thigh. She smells like vanilla, her scent almost making you forget about Minju. But when she lets your fingertips slip in between her thighs, you quickly look at your friend. Minju has slightly turned away, so you can’t read her face. Unbeknownst to you, she is pretending to get a text from Yeji, just to get her out of here.

“Sorry, guys. Yeji just sent me a message. She needs my help, so I better get going now.”

Your hand escapes Eunha’s dangerous trap to hold Minju’s shoulder.

“You’re leaving already? We’re almost done.”

“I think it’s an emergency.”

“Okay, Minju. It was fun to work with you today.”

Minju can tell Eunha’s smile is fake from a mile away.

Once the front door closes behind her, Minju hangs her head. What is she doing? Why is she getting so worked up about this? She clears her throat and zips up her top again. Minju shakes her head, her cheeks still slightly red from her anger. No. You can do whatever you want. You aren’t her boyfriend. And she doesn’t like you like that anyway. It’s more like Minju is almost envious of Eunha. She doesn’t want to walk around with a skirt that shows off her panties. No, that’s not it. But Minju wants to have the same confidence as Eunha. She’s always been a little more introverted and she definitely missed out on stuff because of that. But it always seems like Eunha is always just doing what she wants. That’s what Minju is really bothered by.

You try your best not to stare, but it’s in vain. Who could resist? Your eyes are focused on Eunha’s panties, which are only partially hidden by her skirt as she closes the front door. When she turns around, you quickly look at her face instead.

“Do you want to finish this?”

Eunha’s sweet smile makes you nod.

You watch her walk over to the table. But instead of sitting down in her own chair, she straddles you once more. But this time, she is facing you.

“Eunha, what-”

“You said you want to finish what we started.”

Her smile turns into a mischievous grin, before she leans forward to press her lips against yours.

“This is too fast!” Screams the voice inside the back of your head, but your hands have already taken a hold of Eunha’s full thighs and your lips are already inviting her tongue inside.

“Wait…”

You finally push her back a little.

“What? Don’t you think I’m sexy? You kept looking at me this whole time.”

Her lips land on yours once more. And you have to admit, you don’t know how to respond. You did imagine how it would feel like to have those thighs wrapped around your head. Or how cute Eunha’s moans would sound like. But that was just imagination. Because you didn’t think she actually wanted you.

“Fuck.”

You break the kiss, your head falling back as Eunha grinds herself against your hard dick. She uses this opportunity to tilt her head and attack your neck. Determined to mark you, wanting to show Minju that she got you, she sucks and bites your skin. Her own hands roam your back, keeping you close and pressing your chest against hers. You feel the heat inside her body, especially at her center.

Your fingers dig further into her thighs, making a moan escape her lips, before you start to actually move her back and forth in your lap. Her clothed pussy rubs against your pants and you can’t wait any longer. You need to feel her. Now.

You stand up slowly, Eunha instinctively wrapping her legs around your hips. The two of you quickly reach the sofa in her living room. You sit down on it with Eunha still in your arms. The whole time she kept on kissing your neck and cheek and is now backing away.

“I can feel how hard you are. Let me help you out.”

Her cute wink makes you let out a deep breath, before you watch her climb off of you. But instead of getting onto the carpet, she makes you move over, so that you’re lying down. The sofa is big enough for her to kneel next to you and it only takes you a moment to realize why she did that. While Eunha starts to take your pants off, you reach behind her, her skirt barely covering her ass. You give her right cheek a hard squeeze, making Eunha gasp.

“You can play with my body all you want, oppa.”

You slightly raise your hips, making it easier for her to finally pull your pants off. At the same time, you feel the fabric of her panties against your fingers. You hook one finger underneath it, right when Eunha wraps a hand around your cock.

“I knew it.”

Her eyes, which were focused on your cock now look at yours.

“You have a really nice dick.”

Before you can reply, you see her opening her mouth and leaning down. A low groan escapes your mouth as you feel Eunha’s lips wrap around your tip. Even if you see Tiffany’s blowjobs just as foreplay, this would already be your second of the day. First Ms. Im and now Eunha. Unconsciously, you dig your fingers into her full cheek, right next to her pussy. It makes Eunha lean forward a little further, taking your dick deeper into her mouth.

“God, Eunha…”

You feel her smile around your length. Wanting to repay her, you reach for her panties and pull them slowly to the side. They’re slightly damp already. You let one finger glide around her labia, collecting a little bit of her juices. But you come to a hold, when Eunha starts to properly suck you off, her tongue dancing around your tip. For a small while you’re unable to do anything but watch. Eunha looks so hot in this position. Bent over on your side, her mouth around your dick, her cute face showing signs of pleasure and her ass completely visible, due to her skirt, which has fallen down around her hips by now.

Eventually you do pick up where you left off. Reaching a little lower, you let your fingers glide over her clit, which is partially covered by her lips. Eunha moans around your cock, making your head roll back in response. Soon after, you let a finger slip into her pussy. A lustful hum sends vibration into your cock and all the way up your spine. Once you’ve established a proper rhythm, you and Eunha pleasure each other at the same time.

While she sucks you off, you finger her. You can feel how Eunha’s pussy becomes wetter, how it occasionally clenches around your first and now your second finger as well. At the same time, Eunha can feel your hard shaft inside her mouth. It does take her some effort to properly suck you off. She did feel you before through your clothes, but you’re slightly bigger than she anticipated. Not that she is complaining. Not at all. Eunha is already thinking about her next move. As she lets her lips glide along your shaft, she is already planning on taking you inside of her properly. Does she want to do it right here? In the living room? The thought alone gets her going as the pace of your fingers quickens. She imagines herself bent over the backrest, your cock being the thing that moves in and out of her and not your fingers.

Eunha’s eyes close, her body slightly sways back and forth, her lips still sealed tightly around your shaft. You do your best to satisfy her, not wanting to disappoint. After all, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Your classmate giving you head.

You need to take a deep breath when Eunha decides to go even deeper. You feel the back of her mouth hitting your tip. She gags once, twice. Her spit coats your shaft. Your head rolls back and your eyes stop at a picture of her. Of Eunha and her sister. The two of them on holiday, at a visibly hot place. Her crop top and skirt are almost as short as the ones she is wearing right now. You can’t help but glance at her sister. You haven’t seen Wonyoung in almost a year, but she is as sexy as Eunha is. For a moment, you imagine how hot it would be to have both their mouths around your cock. You doubt you would last long with the Jung sisters. Especially if they would start doing more than just giving you head.

You let out a deep groan as you think about the two of them a little too long. Eunha can feel your hips bucking upwards as you almost start to fuck her mouth. Your fingers inside of her move faster now, fueled by the images inside your head. The teasing from earlier and now this… You know you won’t last much longer.

Eunha’s eyes roll to the back of her head as she feels your thumb circling her clit, while your other two fingers keep pumping in and out of her. Her body becomes weak due to the pleasure that is rushing through her system now. She slumps down a little, almost impaling her mouth on your cock. Her warmth around almost your entire length makes you almost cum right there.

And then the phone rings. Your eyes grow wide and Eunha quickly lifts her head off your cock.The two of you look at each other. You catch a thin strand of her saliva sticking to her chin.

“Yours or mine?”

“Mine.”

Eunha quickly gets off of you and heads for the table. As you watch her, reality seems to finally hit you. This actually just happened. You got a blowjob from Eunha. And you had your fingers inside of her. You can’t help but smile. After getting the opportunity to sleep with Tiffany and receive head from Ms. Im, one would think you’d be used to it, but who could get used to that? You feel like the luckiest person on earth. How did you manage to pull this off?

Eunha quickly glances at the caller’s ID, before picking up.

“Yes, Zuha?”

“Hi, unnie. Just wanted to let you know we are done with buying the stuff for the party. Do you want anything else?”

“Uh…No I’m good.”

Eunha suddenly remembers that you’re still here. Half naked.

“A-Are you already on your way back?”

“Yes. I’ll be at your place in around five minutes. The party is starting soon.”

“Okay, thanks Zuha.”

Eunha hangs up and turns around. She knows it’s dangerous to continue. But her eyes automatically focus on your cock. Just a little longer…She feels her core still tingling. She has five more minutes anyway.

“We have five minutes.”

The determination in Eunha’s eyes puts a little bit of pressure on you. Does she expect you to make her cum right now? You watch as she steps closer. But this time, instead of kneeling next to you, Eunha straddles your face, placing both her thighs on either side of your head. Before you can react, Eunha is already pressing her pussy against your mouth as she leans down to swallow your cock once more. As her taste takes over your mouth, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her even closer. The two of you focus on pleasuring each other once more. You feel Eunha slightly grinding against you, while she feels how you slightly thrust upwards whenever she takes you in deep.

You both know you have only limited time. And eventually, Eunha is the first to lose it. You feel her tremble on top of you. Her moan around your dick sends you right to the edge as well. You place your hands on her ass, making sure she stays in place as her thighs shake. But the feeling of her soft cheeks and the way her mouth coats your cock with her saliva finally prove too much for you.

You join Eunha in her orgasm. For a couple of moments, the two of you are just a shaking mess, until you both calm down. Only as you lap up Eunha’s juices, which are glistening on the skin around her lips, do you realize that you just came inside her mouth.

Eunha climbs off of you and then turns around. Her cheeks are a little red from her orgasm. And when she opens her mouth, you see your cum inside of her. She closes her mouth and gives you a sexy smirk. You can tell she is playing around with it with her tongue. By the way her right cheek bulges, it seems like she pushed all of your cum into that one cheek.

“If only we had enough time…My pussy is just so wet right now.”

She lifts her skirt and your eyes dart back and forth between her wet pussy and her cum filled mouth. You can’t decide on what’s hotter. But Eunha quickly helps you decide by opening her mouth once more, pushing your cum around with her tongue again.

“You should give me more of this later. It tastes very good.”

“Fuck, Eunha.”

You get up as well and take a step closer.

“Stay here after the party. I need you to use my body to make yourself cum.”

She closes her mouth once more and your eyes widen when you watch her throat bulge slightly. Eunha gulps down your cum with a satisfied smile on her face. She opens her mouth again, showing off that she swallowed the whole load.

You’re about to say something, when you see a car pull onto the driveway through the window behind her. The two of you quickly try to look normal. You put your pants back on, while Eunha pulls down her skirt a little further. Just when you finish packing your things, you hear the doorbell ring.

“Hi, Zuha.”

The two girls share a quick hug, while you down the rest of the Coke Eunha gave you earlier. Kazua seems to have noticed you, because she calls your name.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

You haven’t seen her for a couple of days. The only class the two of you share is Ms. Kang’s PE class.

“I’m great. Are you going to help us set everything up?”

Before you can answer, Eunha shakes her head.

“He was just here because we did our homework together. He was just about to leave.”

She turns around to face you.

“You’re coming back later, right?”

Eunha gives you a seductive wink.”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna change and be right back.”

You feel a little awkward talking to Zuha after cuming inside Eunha’s mouth mere moments ago. But Eunha seems to be unbothered as she helps the younger girl get all the booze out of her trunk, while you head back home.

“Yes!”

You laugh triumphantly, raising your arms. The ping pong ball just landed inside the red plastic cup across the table from you. You ignore Yeji’s glare with practiced ease as you give Eunha a high five. Your teammate changed her clothes as well. Instead of wearing a pink top and a black skirt, she is now wearing a pink top with a white skirt. They are both bigger now, which means no one can see her panties while she just stands around. But her skirt is still short enough to show off her thighs. And by the looks of it, you aren’t the only guy at the party who appreciates Eunha’s outfit choice.

“Eunha unnie!”

One of her friends calls her and a moment later, Eunha disappears inside the small crowd in her living room. You head for the kitchen to get yourself another drink. While reaching for the bottle of whiskey, someone bumps into you from behind, before she takes her place next to you and holds out her cup.

“Pour me one, loser.”

You roll your eyes as you open the bottle.

“Suck a bag of dicks.”

Someone just turned off the lights, so you can’t see her face, but you know it’s not Yeji. She would never talk to you voluntarily.

“Right back at ya.”

You fill your cup, before you let the bottle hover over hers.

“Changed my mind.”

You hear her scoff as you put the whiskey back down and put the lid on.

“You suck.”

She reaches for the bottle.

“Says the cheerleader who has the flexibility of my great grandfather.”

The two of you would have continued your daily amount of banter, if it wasn’t for Minju, who suddenly appears on your other side.

“Oppa, wanna dance?”

“Not really, no.”

Minju ignores you and takes your hand. You’re reminded of her mother from earlier today. Another wave of guilt washes over you. You quickly drown your feelings with the whiskey in your hand as she drags you towards the middle of the living room.

It seems like the music becomes louder as you watch Minju starting to dance. Her body moving to its rhythm.

“Come on.”

Her smile warms your heart as she sees you just standing there. You take her hand and Minju playfully lifts it over her head and twirls around underneath it.

Soon after, the two of you are surrounded by only lights. Only the two of you exist. And the music. The music makes Minju move. Move against you. Her back presses against your front. Her head just right where your heart is. Her arms are raised as she lets the feeling of ecstasy rush through her body. You look down on her with a smile on your face. Minju’s happiness captivates you too. You reach down, placing your hands loosely on her wide hips. You feel the black denim on your skin. Minju keeps on moving her body to the music as you hear her laugh. You move closer, pressing yourself flush against her from behind. The two of you were never this close. But now, Minju is dancing in your arms.

After a while, you feel her ass brush against your crotch once. And then again. And again. You can feel how Minju almost grinds herself back against you as she dances in the middle of the room. In the middle of the crowd. You don’t know if it’s intentional or not, but Minju starts to make you hard. Your hands on her hips were already a start, but her ass against your clothed cock quickens the process.

A moan almost escapes her lips as Minju feels your length between her cheeks. Up until this day, there was never any sexual tension between the two of you. You were always friends. Nothing more. And yet, Minju can feel how right this is. How good it is. It’s the first time she is even thinking about your cock. Even during the competition earlier, she didn’t really think about sleeping with you. It was just to prove to Eunha that Minju can be as sexy as she is, if she wants to be. But now, your length makes her let out another moan. The loud music stops it, before it reaches your ear. Minju closes her eyes as she keeps dancing. As she keeps grinding against you.

Minju’s warm body against yours almost makes you forget what you planned on doing today. But when your eyes fall on Yeji, who is talking to Kazuha, you remember vividly. For some reason it almost turns you on even more. That Yeji will be seeing a video of you fucking her mother.

Minju makes you focus on her once more, when she reaches for your neck. Your eyes leave Yeji and you look down on the girl in front of you. She slightly pulls your head down while she keeps her eyes closed. You wouldn’t dare to kiss her right now. Not even on her forehead. But you can smell her shampoo as you get close enough. You close your eyes as well, inhaling Minju’s scent. You wonder what could’ve happened next. But the music stops. Everyone around you stops dancing. Minju turns around to look at you. Before she can say something, you take your phone out of your pocket.

“I gotta show you something, Minju. It’s important.”

She nods and you take her hand and lead her outside the living room. Once the two of you reach a quieter place, you take a deep breath. The dancing just now makes you see Minju in a different light, but you have to focus.

“Here. Someone sent it to me.”

You click on the video and let it play. You see Minju narrowing her eyes as she takes a closer look.

“T-This is…They are…”

Her eyes are now wide open as she realizes it’s a video of two people having sex. It looks like the guy is holding the camera.

“I wanted to show it to you first.”

You try to sound as concerned as possible. You hate to lie to Minju, but if this is the way to finally make Yeji pay, so be it.

“Why?”

“You see the woman? Isn’t that Yeji’s…”

You don’t finish the sentence, but Minju surely understands what you are hinting at.

She leans in closer, wanting to make sure you are wrong. But when the camera zooms in on the woman’s face, Minju lets out a gasp. She looks up at you with shock in her eyes.

“Who sent this to you?”

“That’s not the worst part, Minju.”

You point at the lower right corner of the video. The hallway is almost completely dark, but your phone is bright enough for Minju to read the watermark.

onlyfans.com/tiffany

“Oppa…”

Minju’s worried face almost makes you confess, but you stay strong.

“I-I have to tell her.”

Minju has already walked past you, but she stops and turns around.

“Can you send it to me? She won’t believe me otherwise.”

“Sure.”

You see the disgust on her face. She doesn’t want that video to be on her phone. The video of her best friend's mother having sex. But she has to tell Yeji.

“Thank you.”

Minju disappears inside the living room and you lean against the wall behind you. You sigh, shaking your head. Now that you did it, you wonder if this was too hard. What if it destroys Yeji? Will she confront her mother?

While you’re having second thoughts, Minju has already reached Yeji.

“Come with me.”

Another shot of whiskey burns your throat. You just saw Minju and Yeji disappear upstairs and you know there isn’t a way to undo this. And now that you did it, you feel horrible. But then again, Yeji has tormented you since you can remember. You are just the first person to strike. You’re sure that Yeji has something up her sleeve as well.

“Slow down, oppa.”

Eunha appears next to you and grabs your cup, before you’re able to drink more.

“You don’t look so great.”

“I’m fine.”

You reach for the bottle, but Eunha slaps your hand away and shakes her head.

“No more drinking, oppa.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you. You look down. But that's okay. There are other ways to lift your mood. Better ways.”

Her last words make you look at her and her smirk tells you what she has in mind.

“Eunha-”

“Shhh.”

Eunha places a finger on your lips, while her other hand reaches for one of yours.

“I’ve been so fucking wet since you made me cum.”

She kisses your cheek as you feel your fingers brush against the hem of her skirt.

“Do it again.”

“There are people here.”

“So? No one is watching. And because of the counter, no one can see my lower half.”

You know it’s true. And the idea of being able to have your fingers inside of her again makes you hard. You know you shouldn’t. It’s too risky. And yet you don’t fight it, when Eunha guides your hand along her thigh.

You aren’t surprised by her lack of panties. She already told you what she planned on doing with you later on. Her hand rests on your arm as you insert two fingers inside her snatch once more. Eunha is facing the crowded living room and you stand behind her. She is forced to look at all the people here, trying to pretend like nothing is happening. Eunha can almost feel like somebody's watching her. In the far right corner of the living room. But she doesn’t dare look up. Her eyes close as you put your thumb on her clit.

You can tell that Eunha is still wet from earlier. Her breathing is already getting faster. She begins to lean back against you as the pleasure turns her legs into a shaking mess. She reaches forward with one hand, supporting herself on the counter in front of her. The other hand is still holding onto your arm, her nails slowly starting to dig into your skin. Eunha tries to stand straight, but she falters as your thumb begins to circle around her clit.This got her going before, so why not do it again?

Soon, Eunha’s full body weight is on you and her ass is pressed against your clothed cock. Her breathing is shallow and quick as if she just went for a run. You’re actually impressed by how quiet she is, but then again, the music is quite loud. You see that her eyes are closed, before she buries her face in your shoulder. It sounds like she lets out a cry. A second later, her whole body shakes. Her pussy contracts around your fingers and you almost feel how her clit is pulsating against your thumb.

“Oppa…”

She sighs into your shoulder, visibly satisfied after her orgasm. But now you are hard. And you can’t help but let your, with slick covered, hand run over her naked thigh. Eunha notices how your dick pushes against her ass from behind. With a cute smirk on her lips, she reaches behind herself.

“Let me help you too, oppa.”

It takes her a while, because she can’t see what she is doing and because she only uses one hand, but eventually, Eunha has unzipped your zipper and fished out your cock. Your pants stay on and so does Eunha’s skirt. You lean forward a little, sliding your cock between her thick thighs.

Another sigh leaves her lips and you try to act normal by not looking down on what you’re doing. That’s why you’re now able to see Minju and Yeji walk through the living room. They are heading to the front door. Yeji’s head hangs low, her face covered by her hair. Minju seems to be comforting her as her hand rests on her friend’s back. You feel a sting of regret in your chest, but Eunha quickly makes you focus back on her.

“Fuck my thighs, oppa.”

You plant a kiss on the back of Eunha’s head and start to thrust in and out of the gap between her thighs. The thought of Minju and Yeji is soon gone as you take your pleasure from Eunha. You’re careful to not go too fast or hard, afraid someone would notice. Instead, you enjoy Eunha’s softness with slow and long strokes. Both your hands hold her waist, keeping her in place.

“You feel so big…”

Eunha’s eyes are closed once more, her head slowly sinking back against your shoulder again. You’re tempted to give this beautiful face a kiss, but now you feel it too. The same thing Eunha felt earlier. The feeling of someone watching you. Your heart pounds faster and you slow down your thrusts. You look around, trying to make out the person who is looking at you two amongst the crowd. When you don’t find anyone suspicious, you shrug off the feeling. Maybe you’re just nervous. Or it’s the alcohol in your system.

Another sip of vodka burns Kazuha’s throat. Her eyes are fixated on what’s going on in the kitchen. You’re still standing behind Eunha. Earlier, it seemed like you had a hand under her skirt, almost as if you were fingering her. But now, Kazuha is sure that you’re actually fucking Eunha. Slow and careful, but not unnoticeable for anyone who looks at you more carefully. The older girl’s head has dropped back against your shoulder and Kazuha can see her pleasure wrecked face. Eyes closed, nose slightly scrunched, lips twitching. She can’t believe the two of you would do something this daring. She already suspected you, when she saw the two of you earlier. The way Eunha was dressed only meant one thing. And now she got proof. After another gulp of the burning clear liquid, Kazuha can’t help but place a hand loosely over her shorts.

Her fingers just slightly press against her core. She’d never do anything intimate in such a public and crowded place. But the sight of you fucking Eunha only a few meters away from the crowd turns her on. Kazuha bites her lip as she presses down on her core a little harder. Very very slowly, she moves her hand up and down. The alcohol and the increasing need slowly makes her body burn up. If only she could…

Her fingers linger on her belt. In that moment she sees someone walking towards you and Eunha. She sighs in disappointment. Kazuha watches how you quickly step back and reach towards your pants, while Eunha, still a little out of it, straightens her hair and her skirt. The two of you pretend like nothing happened. And after a couple of words, Eunha and her friend exit the kitchen.

“Goodbye! Get home safe!”

As soon as the door closes, you press Eunha flat against it. The two of you quickly lose yourselves in a heated make out session. After getting interrupted earlier, the both of you are too horny to even wait a second. Eunha’s house is now empty. Everyone is gone. Only the two of you are here. And you make use of that.

Because you are still hard from earlier, Eunha doesn’t bother with giving you another blowjob. As soon as your pants are off, she spits into her hand and reaches for your shaft. The two of you look into each other’s eyes as she strokes you, coating your cock with her spit.

“I need you so bad. Fuck me hard.”

Her words make you kiss her once more, your hands roam her body. You enjoy the feeling of her curves under your palms. Eventually, you push her towards the couch. Eunha quickly throws away a jacket someone left there and puts an empty bottle on the table next to it. Now that you have enough space, you bend Eunha over the armrest. You are doing this quickly. You can’t wait any longer to finally feel Eunha’s pussy properly.

“Fill me, oppa.”

She sighs as you lift up her skirt, exposing her ass and her pussy as well. Your hand slides over her wet labia, making sure she is wet enough, before you align yourself with her core. Slowly pushing inside of her, you press Eunha further into the soft armrest. The two of you take deep breaths as each of you try to get accustomed to this new feeling. Your length makes Eunha feel full. She can tell how you’re stretching her out. At the same time, you can’t help but compare Eunha’s pussy with Tiffany’s. She is tighter. That much is clear. But Tiffany is also a little smoother than Eunha on the inside. Maybe that’s because Tiffany is just wetter than Eunha. Either way, both of them feel amazing. And now, Eunha’s snatch lures you further inside. Her body wants to feel more of you.

You place your hands on her back, leaning over her. Now she can’t escape, fully trapped in between you and the armrest. After pulling out almost entirely, you thrust back inside.

“Holy fuck…”

Eunha’s lust filled sigh makes you smirk as her body gets rocked forward.

“How was I able to wait this long? It feels so good…”

You’re not sure if she is talking to herself, but you lean down further and kiss her neck.

“You’re so hot, Eunha.”

Another thrust makes her move once more. Her face is now on the same height as the small coffee table next to the sofa. Eunha can’t help but stare at the picture that is standing on it as you give her another thrust. Her and her sister on vacation. The one you saw earlier.

“I’m such a slut. Fuck me hard.”

She whines, turned on by the thought of having her sister in the picture watch her getting fucked.

You notice how her eyes are glued to the photo. You hesitate as you keep fucking her, but eventually you decide to speak your mind.

“Wonyoung is so hot, Eunha.”

“You really think so?”

Her breath quickens, but she almost sounds disappointed. You can feel how tight her pussy is around your cock. How it holds onto you, whenever you retreat.

“Of course. I bet she is the thightest.”

“Oh, fuck!”

Eunha didn’t think this would turn her on so much. She bites into the leather armrest, trying to prevent another yelp.

“And her face…I just want to ruin it. This little brat.”

Eunha’s eyes roll to the back of her head as your cock reaches her deepest depths. She cant’ belive she is getting fucked in her parent’s living room. Right in front of a picture of herself and her sister.

“Yes, ruin her. Make her cheat on her stupid boyfriend. I bet your cock is way bigger than his.”

Her whines make you kiss her neck again, before whispering into her ear.

“Do you like it when I talk about fucking your sister, while I use you as a fleshlight?”

Another whine. Eunha nods weakly, your cock seems to push all of her energy out of her with every thrust.

“Yes, I like it. I like it when you use me like a slut.”

You fuck her harder, too turned on by her words to hold yourself back.

“That’s what you are, Eunha. A slut.”

The word rings in her ears as you pound her from behind. She can almost feel how it invades her mind, how it makes her feel good.

“Yes, I’m a slut. Your little slut, oppa.”

Her cries have you press down on her back further. You can feel how her body tenses under your weight. How her pussy clenches around your length.

“That’s why you always wear these short skirts. You love it when everyone can see your thighs and ass.”

“That’s true. I love to feel like a slut.”

You push Eunha’s body further over the armrest, until she almost falls over. Your thrusts now reaching even deeper inside of her. Her ass is now at the perfect angle for you to give it a nice slap.

"Harder, oppa!”

Eunha cries out, when you hit her cheek. The flesh ripples even more, because you keep fucking her. Her walls tighten around you with every following thrust.

“Damn, Eunha. You’d do anything for my cock, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I would. Anything.”

Another slap almost makes her sob.

“You’re such a pathetic slut, Eunha. I’d rather fuck your little sister.”

The volume of her whines increase with two more slaps on each of her cheeks. Her head is hanging so low by now that Eunha has to look up to see the picture of her sister.

"Do it, oppa! Please! I’m just a worthless slut.”

Her cry almost makes you feel pity. Her pussy still has a tight grip on your cock and her walls massage you during every thrust. How could you ever think about someone else while you fuck her?

“No you aren’t, Eunha.”

Your kiss on her lower back is more affectionate this time. More loving.

“You are a good girl. And so fucking hot.”

Instead of spanking her, you now squeeze her cheeks softly, soothing the pain from earlier just a little.

“I’m not. You are right, oppa. I’m a huge slut.”

Her whine makes you fuck her harder. Your hands are both now holding onto her waist. You rock her body back and forth. Every thrust makes Eunha lose control further. Her legs can’t support her anymore. They are too weak by now. She is just hanging off the armrest, while you fuck her from behind.

“Don’t put yourself down like that. You’re beautiful, Eunha. I’m in love with your body.”

You hear her gasp and moan at your words. Eunha’s body is all warm and light. Her pussy is taking your cock so well, her walls stretching around it to take in as much as possible.

“Thank you, oppa. I really want to be a good girl for you.”

“Then ride me.”

You peel her off the armrest and lift her up. She’s lighter than you expected. As you move her around to sit on your lap, her foot hits a bottle on the coffee table in front of you. She knocks it over and it falls to the floor.

“I’m sorry, oppa.”

Eunha whines, but her pussy tingles as she looks down to see your cock lying against it.

“I changed my mind. You really are a bad girl. A slut.”

Eunah whimpers as you lift her and ease yourself inside her once more.

“I-I’m not a slut. You said-”

“I lied. You’re nothing but a set of holes.”

A moan leaves her lips as she glides along your length.

“Oppa…”

Her disappointed sigh makes you lift her up and drop her again.

“Shut it.”

You wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her close.

“I wish you were Wonyoung. She is way prettier than you. And tighter.”

Eunha whines as you make her ride your cock. You lift her up far enough, so her feet are planted on your thighs, while her pussy moves up and down on your cock.

“But I’m doing my best. Isn’t my pussy tight enough for you?”

“You mean this pathetic little cunt?”

You give her clit a light slap.

Eunha gasps and moans. Her body shakes. You feel bad for a moment. Was that too much? Did you hurt her?

“I’m sorry, oppa. You’re right. Wonyoungs pussy is better than mine.”

Her sobs tell you that it did hurt. At least a little. You kiss her neck, wanting to ease the pain.

“But please use me, while she isn’t here. I’ll do my best for you.”

“I don’t know if that’s gonna be enough, slut.”

Throughout the next couple of hours, Eunha proves what a good slut she can be time and time again. By now, the two of you made it to her room. You don’t remember how many times you’ve already filled her pussy up, but Eunha seems as hungry for your cum as before. Now she is riding you again. You lie flat on her bed, while she keeps bouncing on your cock. Her clothes are all gone by now. Her naked body captivates you, your eyes currently focused on her tits. You reach up to them. You play with them, squeeze them, pinch her nipples. It all makes Eunha ride you faster.

“Am I a good slut for you, oppa?”

You were able to taste the alcohol on her lips during your kiss at her front door. But now it seems to be completely gone as she leans down to give you another kiss.

“Yes, you are. Such a tight, good little slut.”

Her proud smile turns into an O as your tip grazes her deepest spot. Her tight pussy squeezes you hard. Her hands on your chest make her nails dig into your skin.

“Oppa…!”

Her cry rings in your ears as Eunha almost collapses on top of you. But you hold her in place. Her limb body too weak to move. You start to thrust into her from underneath. A couple of weak moans leave her lips. You’re close as well. You can feel it. Her small orgasm has pushed you towards the edge. Her walls still give you irregular squeezes. Her cute face wordlessly begs you for another load.

You tighten your grip on her hips. A couple of more ups and downs, until you finally hold her in place. Eunha’s ass is pressed against your lap as you shoot your cum deep inside of her. Your classmate moans, feeling your seed invade her pussy.

“Oppa…”

You let go of her waist and she sinks onto your chest.The two of you stay in place after a long night of partying and sex. You feel her chest heave and her face on your chest. You listen to Eunha’s breaths. They become slower and slower. And eventually, she falls asleep.

You wake up alone. It’s a slow process. But eventually you are able to realize where you are. Still at Eunha’s. You hear her rummaging around downstairs. After a couple of minutes, you finally reach the foot of the stairs. You’re worn out and still tired. But since today is a holiday, you don’t have to go to school.

It seems like Eunha has already cleaned up most of the party from yesterday. You spot her standing in the kitchen. She is wearing nothing but a black bra and matching panties. You can already feel how the sight of her makes you hard again. Why are you so horny lately?

“Hello, there.”

Eunha gives you a bright smile. Walking up to her, you watch what she is doing. Breakfast.

"Morning."

You walk up behind her and wrap your arms around her waist.

“Is that oatmeal?”

Eunha definitely caught your lack of excitement.

“It is. But only for me. Your breakfast is over there.”

She points at the bag of cereal on the edge of the counter. A bowl and milk next to it.

“Great.”

You start to make your own breakfast.

“Is this Wonyoung’s?”

You catch her hesitating, before she nods.

“It is.”

“Hey,...”

You reach out for her arm.

“Sorry about last night. I got carried away a little.”

Eunah smiles at you.

“It’s fine. It was kinda…hot.”

You smile back at her and pour the milk into the bowl with the cereal.

“But just to make things clear: This was just pure sex. Nothing more.”

You look at her and nod.

“No problem."

You walk up behind her again. You just can’t help it. She just looks so good when she wears only underwear. Eunha bites her lip when she feels your cock press against her cheeks.

“But I hope we can have some more fun now?”

“I’d love to.”

Eunha leans back and captures your lips with hers. You let your hands wander over her chest, giving her tits a couple of squeezes.

“But I’m sure my mom is coming home soon. We will have to be quick.”

“Don’t worry. This won’t take long.”

Eunha chuckles as she feels you pulling her panties off her hips. Your boxers lie on the floor a second later.

“Oh, yes.”

Eunha sighs, her hands pressed flat against the surface of the counter in front of her as you push inside. Her pussy feels familiar to you by now. Warm and tight. Just wet enough for you to fuck her properly after a couple of slow thrusts.

“We definitely need to do this again sometime.”

She sighs dreamily, eyes only half open as she feels you slowly pushing in and out of her. The two of you are still sleepy, so you don’t go too hard. Another moan leaves Eunha’s lips as you push a little deeper. Her head falls back. You kiss her upper back, her shoulders, her neck. Her skin feels smooth under your lips. You close your eyes as the two of you get lost in the pleasure that both your bodies provide for one another.

Suddenly, the two of you freeze.

“Was that a car?”

“Shit, shit, shit! My mom!”

You can see the fear in Eunha’s eyes. It was already dangerous enough to throw a party at her house, without permission. But if her mother catches her while she gets plowed in her kitchen…

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #snsd tiffany #snsd yoona #girls generation tiffany #yoona girls generation #lim yoona #eunha smut #viviz eunha #gfriend eunha #eunha #izone minju #kim minju #minju #snsd village

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icebearpopsicle · 6 months ago

Text

⁠✧Baby Steps⁠✧

(Shouta Aizawa X G.N. Reader)

Warnings: Aizawa is 38 here, age gap (like it's 13 years), smut part is shitty and kinda rushed, excessive use of the word "as" because i literally cannot write, gentle dom, aizawa is kinda overbearing, dub con(?) jus towards the end though,

Word count: 2.3k+ words

Author's note: this is shitty but i hope you enjoy it ♡ ♡/ aizawa is out of character/ smut is bad cuz i am even worse at that sorry ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ/

You stretched your back, hands clasped behind your head, hearing the faint sound of your spine cracking against the support of your chair. It has been hours since you started scrolling, looking for a job, your palm sweaty from holding the mouse. A click here, a click there, and a scroll downwards, then upwards again. You had recently moved here after graduation, and while you were managing well initially, the high cost of your apartment and day-to-day expenses had become too much to sustain without a source of income.

You scrolled further down when the computer screen displayed some words that caught your interest:

Name: Shouta Aizawa

Age: 38

Requirement(s): Babysitter

Requirement Information: 2 kids

Salary: To be negotiated later on

Contact details: [email protected] / XXXXX-XXXXX

Posted 1 hour ago

Okay, yeah, that was pretty brief, but the timing gave you hope that you might just get the job, so you clicked on his phone number and started typing away on your keyboard.

"Hello, I saw your post about wanting a babysitter and I was wondering if the spot was still free?"

You hit the send button and got up from your seat for the first time in hours for a small break. After about 20 minutes, you checked for a response and opened the chat again.

"Yes, it is. If you're interested, please come tomorrow at 8 am if you're available," followed by a link to his location.

A smile claimed your lips at the excitement of finally landing a job after so many tries.

When you saw his age, you definitely didn't expect him to be this... hot? Which father of two kids is this hot?

"Good morning. I believe you contacted me yesterday evening, yeah?" His smooth, deep voice is like music to your ears as you look at the sleep-deprived man towering over you. Rough stubble covers his face, his hair cascading to his shoulders, as his broad shoulders lean against the door frame.

"Oh... ah... yes, good morning. It was indeed me who contacted you... sir," you reply as he gestures for you to enter his house. You then take notice of his lavish yet cozy home, with toys scattered in the hallway. You both enter the kitchen, and he jerks his head toward a seat at the table with a low hum.

"Would you like to drink anything?" he asks, picking up his mug from the table as you shake your head.

"I am gonna be asking you a few questions and I need you to be honest with your answers." he commands, taking a seat opposite you. His black shirt puling slightly upwards, revealing his wrists as you give a simple nod.

"Firstly... What is your age?" He asks taking a sip from his mug.

"I am 25 years old.. sir.." You reply confidently however there is a frown on his face at your response. Was he... Upset? Afraid to loose this opportunity you quickly try and talk about your past experiences with kids as he interrupts you.

"No, it's not that I just hope you aren't lying about your age"

"Why... Would I?" You ask with a frown enveloping your face.

"I wouldn't believe you to be 18 with a face like that" He replies his tone rather blunt.

Ouch. His straightforwardness stinging lightly.

"Moving forward... do you party, drink or any of those stuff?"

"No, sir."

"Hmmm ... Fine, I suppose you can start working from today"

You give him a small smile as you mutter a small 'thank you'.

"Got any questions?"

"Actually yes! I was wondering where the kids might be so that I could ensure they're comfortable with me being around!!"

He gives a slight nod before replying his voice surprisingly gentle and low when talking about them "Yeah, they're sleeping right now. My eldest son; he wakes up at 9 and my daughter wakes up at 10:30." He gestures to a picture on the mantle showing a purple haired boy and grey haired girl laughing and playing together as you hear the faint sound of him taking a sip from his mug.

"They are so adorable." You gush smiling at their innocent faces. "And could I get some more information on what their personalities are like?"

"Hm.." he hums as he finishes the drink on his mug and sets it down on the table.

"Well my son is 9 years old, Shinsou that's his name, he doesn't warm up easily to people but he is quiet and usually plays with Eri or alone. Eri is my daughter she is 5 and quite literally the opposite of her brother, ahem.. she is talkative and quite sensitive. None of them are picky about their food, they eat anything that they're given and nor do they have any allergies.. and yeah that's about it.." He says rubbing his hands together and you can hear how rough and dry they are.

It had been two weeks since you started working in his house and only then you realised how often Shouta stayed away from home, any free time he got he would spend it with his children, taking them out for activities, cooking for them, playing with them, seeing how close he was with his son and daughter often left you with a smile on your lips at the close bond of the family. True to Shouta's word you could really see the difference in the way Shinsou would behave around you and around his father or sister and somewhere deep down you were a bit upset but you knew that all of this takes time and as long he was comfortable enough to have you around you were fine. But Eri on the other hand was absolutely adorable, she adored you and you adored her, say if you were watching Shinsou and Eri play it was Eri who would call you over and ask you to play with them. Aizawa on the other hand was always kind and formal with you sometimes even bringing takeaway for you, but whenever he was over you couldn't help but just look at his biceps the way they would bulge out from his shirt when he folded his arms, the way his hands would be disturbed with veins when his grip would tighten even in the slightest, and maybe.... Just maybe, you tried to catch his attention by wearing really short shorts or a tshirt that hug your body just at the right places.

But alas it was only you who kept drooling over him....

or that's what you thought...

You were seemingly unaware the amount of self control Aizawa had to practice just not to fuck you dumb on his cock.

It had been three months since you started working for him and you still found your gaze lingering on him for too long, initially it was at his face, then down to his broad shoulders, and then his chest, then it was further down to his hands and finally it was on his......

"Are you sad cuz papa isn't home today?" You hear the innocent voice of Shinsou behind you having counted your sighs since you woke up, which was according to him, around 32.

"No, no of course not Shinsou.. I am totally fine, just a bit tired" You lied, obviously you would. Why would you admit to finding Shinsou's father hot. Other than the fact that you want him to ruin you till you can't form any thoughts. And you definitely were sad that Aizawa was working till 9 pm that too on a Sunday.

Shinsou mumbles an "Okay..." walking away to colour his book that he had been previously doing before being worried about you. A few minutes after he had approached you, your face suddenly lit up as you realised that Shinsou was worried about you, you rushed up to him from the kitchen counter to the living room abruptly sitting down in front of him

"Are you worried about me Shinsou?" You ask excitedly your smile radiant. Shinsou earlier looking up at you looks away from embarrassment not replying, his ears turni red and you just couldn't help the aww that left your lips.

"Awww you're so cute!!" You squeal and your hand automatically goes to ruffle his hair and he doesn't pull away not this time and you realise that he has gotten comfortable with you, at that moment the door clicks open as Aizawa enters the house and peeks into the living room to see what the commotion was about.

"Papa!!!!" Eri squeals noticing her dad in the hallway as she runs up to him and Aizawa picks her up his voice gentle and soothing "Hey my love" He says kissing her on the cheek as she giggles from his stubble pricking her soft skin.

"Sup kiddo" Aizawa comes near you and Shinsou with Eri in his arms.

"Hello.." Shinsou greets him quietly as Aizawa bends down to ruffle his hair.

"All good?" Aizawa asks him and Shinsou nods as he goes back to colouring his book, Aizawa finally looks at you making your heart almost leap out as he gave you a small smirk "You seem happy, what's up?" He asks with a small groan as he puts Eri on the floor and she runs off playing "Shinsou let me ruffle his hair and he was worried about me!!" You reply excitedly your wide smile bringing a low chuckle from him.

"Oh yeah? What exactly were you worried about Shin?" Aizawa questions sitting down to look at what his son is colouring.

"(Name)-san was sad that you were working this late" Shinsou replies nonchalantly and you swear your eyes hadnt widened this much in your life, you feel the heat rush to your cheeks and Aizawa's eyebrows raise as he gives you a quick side glance before looking at Shinsou, he is about to say something when you interject denying strongly. "Shinsou!! I told you I was tired!! Thats not the case!!"

"Or, tired they say" He adds briefly, Aizawa doesn't even get the chance to say anything as you immediately get up picking up Eri and Shinsou taking them to their individual rooms ignoring any protests of Shinsou claiming how he was a big boy and he could stay up late, you argue with Shinsou for atleast half an hour before he finally agrees to sleep even though he was angry at you.

You head downstairs sighing and praying that Aizawa didn't pay much heed to whatever Shinsou said before as you head towards the living room to pick up the scattered toys and crayons only to be met with the sight of Aizawa sitting on the couch and while normally he isn't intimidating the way he sat with eyes closed, arms folded his right leg over his left reminded you of your father and his strict nature slightly intimidating you, quietly you pick up the toys glad that he fell asleep; as you picked the last of the toys you heard Aizawa's voice boom through making you freeze in your tracks "Still upset that I had work today?" You dont reply for a long time not trusting yourself to speak but when you do your voice is slightly shaky "No... No not at all.. why would I be.. you know Shinsou he just says whatever he wants..."

"Oh yeah? Does he?"

"........ okay well not ... Not exactly....."

You mumbel turning around to face Aizawa only to find him standing infront of you as looking down at your compared to his smaller form.

"Well then, answer my question."

You look away nervously chewing on your bottom lip, coating them pink with saliva, Aizawa tries to resist the urge to kiss you but fails as he grabs your face roughly pulling it closer to his, smashing his lips with yours. The kiss is sloppy and desperate and you can sense the sexual tension between you melting away.

You both pull free from the kiss, the room filled with pants, yours being much louder than his, taking in huge gulps of air.

You feel Aizawas arms wrap around your waist pulling you closer towards him.

"My room or the couch?" He whispers in your right ear his voice sending shivers along your spine.

It had been an hour since Aizawa had been prepping you after finding out you were a virgin, where once it burned to even have a single finger of his inside you, now you could easily 4 of his fingers at once.

Yet, tears spilled from your eyes when Aizawa pushes his dick (just the tip) inside you as Aizawa kisses away you tears with soft coo's of 'just a bit more' 'you're doing so good baby' 'it's just a few more minutes yeah, we will start to feel good real soon' rubbing soothing circles in your back as you sink your face into his shoulder blades, his intoxicating cologne filling your nostrils; finally after what felt like an eternity your hole sits down on his his dick as he gradually thrusts into you making you whimper and groan.

"So fucking good for me.. shit... Ugh... Fuck so tight, so fucking compliant.... Shit baby .. you feel so good"

You hear him praise you but you're barely able to register even a single word due to your muddled state of mind, your whines get louder, his thrusts getting more faster and rapid now. He hits a particularly sweet spot as you rise your head to scream at the pleasure coursing through your body "That's the spot is it." Aizawa grunts angling his hips to hit that spot, chortling at your desperate and meek attempt to push him away.

"Cum... Sh...shit... Gonna cum... Fuck..."

"Yeah? Gonna come for me? Gonna come from this cock fucking you stupid?"

You nod your head frantically chanting a mantra of 'so good's', orgasm coursing through your body, your body trembling from the aftermath of your orgasm as you lay limp against his chest.

After what feels like a few minutes you feel Aizawa thrust into you making you whine from the overstimulation

"Cant... No... No please... Hurts..."

You try to push him away only for him grab your wrists with his hand behind your back as he increases the pace of his thrusts

"I am yet to come baby, just a few more rounds 'kay?"

#x reader #male reader #female reader #bottom male reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #aizawa shouta #bnha x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x male reader #aizawa X female reader #smut #bnha smut #fanfic

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nanamis-bigtie · 21 days ago

Text

oxytocin

↬ higuruma hiromi x gn afab!reader ↬ jjk masterlist // ao3 version // kofi

cw: smut, chubby reader, established relationship, oral sex (r receiving), scent kink (hiromi likes to take a sniff) summary: hiromi apologizes to you for broken promise. with his lips. word count: 2,293 a/n: i promised myself I'm gonna write more self-indulgent stuff in 2025. and what's better indulgence than your fave being crazy about your body type, right? i like having my readers as neutral as i can make them but hell, i enjoyed writing this sooo much. I think this won't the last chubby reader I post. the idea for this fic came to me when I was listening to "oxytocin" by billie eilish on repeat - and thus the title. divider by saradika

"I could swear you promised you won't work on your days off."

You creak the door open just enough to slide in and lean against the frame, arms crossed on your chest. You try to look stern, but Hiromi barely flicks eyes over his laptop, so engrossed by his task even your grimace can't pull him away. Under other circumstances you would leave him to his matters, knowing better than interrupting him when he's in the flow, but today is different. Today is the first proper morning you spend together in your new house; no more unpacking, no more chaotic struggle between this place and your old apartment, no more exhausting IKEA trips, everything sneaked into your busy schedules by a thin margin.

He should be snoring softly by your side in your shared bed, sleeping off the housewarming party and a month-long plague of overtime. Not—bothering his body and mind with extra job he won't be even paid for.

"Hiromi..." You tiptoe closer and behind him, arms thrown over his shoulders and crossed over his chest.

He jumps a little but leans into your touch soon after. You press face into the crown of his head, inhaling fresh scent of his shampoo.

"I put the dishes away," he mutters and groans as you work through the tension in his sides and shoulders. "And cleaned up the living room."

"That's not what I meant." You pepper kisses down his temple, cheek and jaw. "You promised you won't do that. And especially not at 7a.m."

You reach over him and close the laptop, gently pushing it away before Hiromi catches on your move and tries to snatch it. He meets your hands instead, gathers them in his and pulls them close to his chest, trapping you in the role of a weighed blanket.

"It was just a single e-mail." Blatant lie, mollified with his nose rubbing against your neck, looking for the most delicious spots. "I would have finished before you wake up."

"Well, I am here, awake, and what do I see?"

You nip and suck at the tip of his ear, noting with satisfaction how his body trembles, the faintest of whines escaping his lips before he whisks away and returns the favor.

"I'm sorry, darling." Hiromi kisses his apologies along your neck, twists his torso to try and sneak a taste of your chest, delicious strap of bare skin revealed by loose pajama top. There's only one thing stronger than his persistent work obsession and he's chasing it like starved now, the fear of being punished for his broken oaths creeping behind hasty pecks and licks. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

He's ready to beg to get what he wants and avoid the repercussions, and as much you love the teary look he gives you when he's desperate, you're in mood for quite different Hiromi. You woke up with a goal on mind, disappointed you found his side of the bed empty and cold, unable to sate your needs without leaving the comfort of freshly bought sheets.

He pouts when you move away but hopeful gleam returns to his eyes when you sneak in between him and the desk. You wiggle yourself on top of it, legs spread just right to engulf him—and he doesn't make you wait, immediately shoving the chair forwards, until he's surrounded by your thick thighs.

"You're so warm..." He runs hands up them, trailing the lines of your stretch marks towards the hem of your skimpy shorts, kneading the soft rolls right under it.

"I would be warmer if you hadn't forced me out of the bed," you scoff but your voice is already melting. His hands are so smooth and gentle, so addictive with the way he touches you. He adores each inch of your skin, no crumb of your body able to escape his attention when he's in trance like this.

"I'm sorry." Hiromi darts his eyes up at you, drooping eyelids adding to his begging puppy look—but the fire in his gaze has nothing to do with submissiveness. He lets you hold the leash but it's not a firm hold.

He's going to yank it out of your hands soon.

You rest your feet on the armrests and lean a little to the back. Your shirt rolls up, revealing a roll of your tum over the doubled elastic band of shorts and panties.

Hiromi pounces on it like starved.

His kisses are soft at first, grazing the lines of stretch marks and adoring the delicate skin, but he can't restrain himself any longer. He licks and sucks, bites marks of possession in place only him is allowed to look, teases your bellybutton with the tip of his tongue to drag a sweet, ticklish giggle out of you. Greedy, he shoves the shirt more out of his way and buries his face whole into your tum, his moans swallowed by your body.

"Fucking hell, you're so hot..." he half-cries, blood rushing south already messing with his senses. His eyes are unfocused as he steals a sight of your face from his spot, almost rolling into the back of his head when he takes in the smell of your body, natural and soaked in lazy warmth of your shared bed. In no time, he's diving for more, pulling your bottoms with hands and teeth alike; when the line of your pubes and a glimpse of your soft mound welcomes him, he moans so obscenely you could swear he's finished in his pants just at the sight.

Your shorts are thrown aside and forgotten but he keeps your panties on, eyes transfixed on the wet stain right over your slit.

"For me?" He sucks air in, sharp, and traces it with a thumb, pressing gently at the outline of your clit.

For a moment he's overwhelmed by the gamut of options, but he doesn't let you grow impatient and dives straight for his favorite. Keeping you in place with surprisingly strong hold on your hips, Hiromi leans for it and sniffs your pussy through the fine fabric, loud whiff followed by even louder moan. Through seconds heavy like lead he only breathes you in and pushes his nose right at the center of the growing wetness—but he doesn't forget about you, he could never, your pleasure the most delicious treat for him.

He rubs his face whole into it, soaking himself in your scent, using his nose and lips to get you off through your panties. He sucks on your clit, his mouth full of the fabric, licks your juices, sneaks his tongue into all the delicious crevices, more and more soaked, the barrier between you two almost ceasing to exist.

"'romi..." you struggle to speak, to make any sound, really. The work of his mouth is divine and the fact he hasn't tasted you raw yet only adds to the fire. Anticipation is growing with each impatient lick and groan of his pleasure. He holds on to you as if you were bound to escape him if he lets go only for a second, his nails digging in your thighs, spreading you open and pinning you down for him.

But soon he can't be satisfied only with that.

You chirp with disappointment when he pulls away, but you quickly catch on his plan and lift your hips as much as you can with your legs on the verge of folding. He yanks your soaked panties down to your ankles, frees them—and pushes his face into them, inner, wetter side right for his nose. A few deep and desperate breaths later, he folds them into his pocket for later, and focuses his eyes on your pussy, bare this time, moist and ready for him.

Hiromi mutters a curse as he loosens the collar of his shirt, futile attempt of protecting it from your juices. With how he eats you out—like a madman, like a feral animal—it stands no chance; its front ends up crumbled and stained in seconds as he leans his whole body into yours, sniffing you bare from the waist to crotch.

He's finally there, nose grazing your clit, tongue darting out to tease your lips and the edge of your entrance, ready to slip in as soon as you pull on his hair.

But the softest taps of fluffy feet stop him in his tracks. Both of you forgot about the door, still open for your curious cat, ready to investigate the source of noises so unusually early in the morning. Hiromi freezes, face inches over your mound, and follows her with the corner of his eye, can't help a chuckle when she assigns him as the most interesting object in the room and enthusiastically rubs her face against his calf.

"Oh kitty, not now." He still leans down to scratch her behind ear. "Good girl. Now let us be."

"You're nicer to her than to me," you joke but Hiromi takes it personally, look in his eyes so hurt you almost regret teasing him. Abandoning cat to its own shenanigans, he cradles your hand in his and pulls it to his lips, his kiss pressed to your wrist wet with your own arousal still lingering on them.

"I'm horrible today," he mutters against your skin, trails his love up your forearms, nuzzles his cheek into your wrist. "I hope you'll forgive me."

Intrusion has simmered the heat between you two down, but he quickly builds it back. You're no longer able to hold yourself on your elbows, with each kiss and hickey sucked into the softness of your thighs you lean more to the back, finally lying flat on the desk, with little to no care for possibly slipping down. Hiromi wouldn't let you, anchoring your hips as he finally returns to his breakfast. He laps, sips and sucks; dirty praises he mutters between slurps drown under wet sounds his busy tongue creates.

Self-indulgence is gone, Hiromi's only goal now is to bring you the most delicious orgasm. Even commotion between his legs doesn't distract him, not with your legs frantically closing on him, engulfing him with the plush of your thighs.

You're close, teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

Cat meows for attention, paws at Hiromi's pants, attempts to climb his lap but falls, unable to squeeze between the union of your bodies. Hiromi, head buried in his favorite spot, reaches blindly to untangle her paws from himself. One of them somehow slips into his pocket, dragging half of your panties out. Delicious, dangling treat for a curious creature, now interested more in fishing it out than begging for attention from her favorite human.

"Shoo, go away." Hiromi has to stop, much to your irritated whine. "That's not for you."

Panties are clumsily showed back, cat pushed further under desk with a foot. You start lifting yourself on elbows again, determined to pull Hiromi by hair where he belongs, but he's faster, lips wrapped around your clit, two fingers sliding inside you and curling, right at the delicious spot he knows will have your back arching in ecstasy.

You curse through clenched teeth, legs tensing and trembling, thighs squeezing him tight until he's moaning into your cunt. He sucks even harder, sharp draft through nose the last breath he takes before putting every ounce of his focus into bringing you pleasure.

"—mi!" You sob and tense, finally reaching the longed-for peak. He gently licks you through it, fingering you until you stop throbbing around him, and he can finally pull away, panting, his cheeks red from lack of air.

Hiromi nuzzles up to your thigh and welcomes you with a lazy, enamored smile when you find power to lift yourself again and look at him. His face is flushed and stained with your juices and his saliva, eyelids drooping even lower than usual. You thread fingers through his hair; he closes eyes in pleasure and leans into your touch.

"Am I forgiven?" He smiles, enamored with the views in front of him and drunk on your taste.

"You are. More than forgiven."

He helps you shimmy closer and chases your lips with the softest kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue—a pleasant, nerve-tickling reminder of pleasure he's given you with it.

A shared moment of sweet distraction is enough for the cat to get the attention she wanted. A quick paw later, she steals your panties from Hiromi, and bolts with it in her teeth as if death itself chased her.

"Ah, you little—" Hiromi tries to grab her, only gets a tickle of her tail. "There she goes..."

"I'm gonna get her." You slip off the desk, ready to corner the little thief where you know she's hiding, under her favorite armchair in the living room. But Hiromi is even faster than the cat, one hand grabbing your hand, the other pushing you back towards the desk—and down, bending you with hips right at the perfect height for him.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" He ruts against your ass, groans as its softness swallows his erection, ready to be freed of his pants and sunk into your hot hole. "I thought I were forgiven?"

"But cat—" You fight against it just for the show, heat perking its head again, hungry for his cock.

Hiromi pins you down harder, until you mewl in discomfort, the hard edge of desk sinking into your tum. He steals a shallow thrust against you and presses close to your back, panting into your ear in need between words, his voice strained and guttural, "No, darling. Cat can wait. You can chase her after I've creampied you thoroughly."

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bradleybeachbabe · 1 year ago

Note

Ok so there is a serious shortage of Tim Bradford stuff on tumblr and the gasp i gusped when i saw you were taking requests was very big.

So how about him being his usual hard and grumpy self and his pregnant wife coming to the station angry about something and him turning into a big softie. Like she’s almost scolding him about something and the others staring like ‚who is this man?‘. Obviously Angela knows what’s up but the rookie are like 🫨

Thanks so much!!💗

here you go anon <3 hope i did you justice on this! also i really enjoyed writing this!

warnings: pregnancy, not beta read

a/n: i haven’t posted in blurbs in forever, so please bare with me on this!

you have been angry at the slightest things lately, whether it being how hot it is outside, not being able to put on your shoes, not having your favorite ice cream in your freezer, etc. the list could go on, and yet it could be to the fact that you’re seven months and half pregnant, because ever since you entered your third trimester the slightest things have been making you angry. and now you’re even angrier than you have been throughout your third trimester, and it’s all because the air conditioning has decided to stop working in your house, so with that being said you have decided to head down to the station to tell tim, your husband, all about it.

when you arrived at the station, you were lucky enough that you didn’t have to wait in the front lobby of the station for tim to come out and talk to you. the officer who was working at the front desk knew who you were, so you were able to just go to the back where all of the officers’ desks are, to find tim.

when you entered the back, you were lucky enough to find tim sitting at his desk, talking to angela about whatever. when you were walking over to where his desk was, angela spotted you.

“looks like you got some company,” angela nodded her head toward your direction.

tim turned his head and saw you waddling towards him.

“i’m gonna give you two some privacy,” angela said as she left tim’s desk and walked over to where john, lucy, and jackson were standing.

“who’s that?” jackson quipped when angela approached.

“tim’s wife, y/n,” angela answered.

“tim has a wife?” lucy, john, and jackson all asked at the time.

“yeah, they have been married for about three years now. and of course, they are now expecting their first baby in a few months.”

“wow, i did not know that,” lucy said.

“yeah, tim tends to keep his work and personal life separate,” angela said.

“hmm…now i’m wondering why she showed up to talk to tim,” lucy said.

“honestly, whatever it is, it’s gonna look good on his end,” angela smirked as she took a sip of her coffee.

“what are you doing here?” tim asked with a confused tone when you approached his desk. “is everything okay? is the baby okay?” he added.

“no, everything is not okay. the bright side is, that the baby is okay.”

“well, what’s wrong then?” tim asked.

“what’s wrong is that the air conditioning has stopped working at the house, and now i’m super hot, sweaty, i'm upset, and especially angry because of that,” you explained.

tim just looked at you with soft eyes. he felt bad for you. he hated seeing you angry and upset. he knew how irritated you could get whenever you’re hot.

“i can try and fix it when i get home later today,” tim stated.

“what time will you be home?” you questioned him.

“maybe around five, it all just depends if i can get all this paperwork done before that time.”

“oh,” you frowned.

tim sighed, “you want me to leave work right now, so then i can fix the air conditioning? don’t you?”

“please.”

you already knew what tim’s answer was gonna be. he wasn’t gonna, ‘no’ or anything like that. plus, if he did, most likely he would end up sleeping on the couch for the night.

“okay, i’ll leave right now,” tim said. “let me go inform sergeant grey that i’m gonna leave early.”

tim got up from his seat at his desk to head to sergeant grey office. and when he did get up, he quickly kissed your temple, and quickly laid one of his hands on your bump, before he walked off.

while you were waiting for tim to get back from sergeant grey’s office, you saw out of the corner of your eye, angela and by the looks of it, three rookies standing with her. the three rookies had shocking looks on their faces while angela couldn’t help herself from smirking. you already knew why angela had that smirk on her face. she already knew that tim has a huge soft side, and that soft side is only reserved for you, and your baby who is gonna be born in a few months. on the other hand, the rookies didn’t know tim’s soft side at all, so of course all of them had shocking looks on their faces.

“sergeant grey is okay with me going home early today,” tim said as he approached you.

“did he ask why you’re going home early today?”

“yes,” tim nodded his head.

“did he think your reason for leaving early was kinda odd and crazy,” you asked.

“yeah,” tim nodded. “but luckily he isn’t giving me a hard time about this,” he added.

“well, that’s good then.”

tim turned off his computer and pushed his desk car in, and you two walked out hand in hand with each other.

“told ya,” angela said as she walked off. while lucy, john, and jackson were still standing there with shocking looks on their faces, trying to gather the pieces together that tim has a soft side.

blurb night!

#rachel’s blurb night/sleepover #tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford blurb #tim bradford fanfic #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford fan fiction #tim bradford drabble

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criminalamnesia · 11 months ago

Note

If it's not too much would you consider a roommates! Gaz and Soap where you need temporary housing and they offer to put you up for a couple of months in return for some housekeeping and cooking? But then it's awkward sharing a space with three people and two bedrooms so you end up a free use maid ✨

so I’ve been thinking about this,,, and I’m actually changing your idea a little bit (I hope that’s okay!)

also I got completely carried away with this and I miiight already be thinking about a part two where things get a little spicier, like you asked! 👀 keep a look out :))

(also I will 100% write for roommate!johnny&gaz eventually but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head!)

you’re soap’s sister, and when you tell him you need a place to stay, he doesn’t hesitate.

it didn’t click in his mind how your moving in may pose a problem until he’s helping you pack your stuff into a van.

one— he lives with gaz, and he may have forgotten to tell his roommate that they’re adding a third to their already small apartment.

two— there’s only two bedrooms.

gaz was currently on a special assignment, so these two things weren’t a huge problem at the moment. johnny shoots his teammate a text, informing him of the predicament and apologizing for just now telling him.

gaz responds, obviously a little peeved, and johnny’s suddenly absorbed in his phone, trying to soothe ruffled feathers and make this work.

you’re huffing as you keep shoving boxes into the van, your muscly brother now too preoccupied to continue helping.

“little help here, johnny?” you call from the trunk, and johnny startles from his spot leaning against the side of the truck.

by the time he clicks his phone off and resumes helping you, him and gaz have settled things.

you’d have johnny’s bedroom. johnny could sleep in gaz’s room until gaz got back home. and the rest would be worked out at a later date.

————————————————

you’ve never met gaz before. sure, johnny has told you all about his teammates and his roommate in particular, but you’ve never actually met the man until now.

he makes you screech in terror, holding the broom you’d been using to sweep the kitchen up like a sword. he chuckles.

“how’d you get in here?” your eyes are wide, taking in the man in front of you, and then it clicks. you remember the pictures johnny had shown you.

this was gaz.

and fuck, he was hot.

“I live here, love.” he says, his tone obviously amused as he looks you up and down. “gonna put that down? or will I be sporting some broom-shaped bruises for the next week?”

“oh, sorry—” you scramble to put the broom down, leaning it against one of the kitchen counters. “I didn’t hear you come in, and johnny didn’t tell me you’d be home today.”

“he didn’t know,” gaz shrugged, walking further into the kitchen now that your weapon of choice had been set aside. “where is he, by the way? we’ve got a lot of talking to do. gotta figure out this room situation.”

you pick at your cuticles anxiously as you shuffle out of the way, allowing gaz to open the fridge. he grabs a bottle of water and twists the lid off, and you’re mesmerized.

wait, what?

you mentally shake yourself from your stupor.

“um, he’s at the gym i think. he should be home soon.”

gaz nods, taking a swig from his water. his eyes settle on you once more as he shuts the fridge door.

“but about the bedrooms,” you start, taking a step towards him. “johnny can have his back. im fine with the couch, and—”

“oh, absolutely not, love. I’d sooner take the couch than make you sleep on it.”

“no no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’ve already caused enough problems by moving in. please let me—”

he cuts you off again with a dazzling smile. “it’s settled, love. you’re not sleeping on the couch. and your moving in isn’t a problem, trust me.”

damn, he’s smooth. you feel your cheeks getting hot, and you have to force yourself to look away from him before you melt.

“okay, well, if you won’t let me take the couch, at least let me do the chores and stuff, yeah? it’s not like I have much else to do,” you tell him with a dry chuckle. the whole reason you’d resorted to moving in with johnny was because you were between jobs right now.

you quite literally had all the time in the world to help around the apartment.

kyle almost looks like he’s going to protest again, but he doesn’t. he must see how much you want to do this, how badly you feel for ‘interrupting’ (you’re absolutely not, and although he’d been miffed about johnny not asking him about you moving in at first, he couldn’t care less now. you were stunning).

at his silence, you give a firm nod. “alright then,” you grin, and he matches your expression. “nice to finally meet you, gaz.”

“kyle,” he says, and your smile widens the tiniest bit.

“kyle.” you say, as if testing the word out on your tongue.

“sis, y’home? I was thinking chinese for dinner!” johnny calls out as the door to the apartment opens. he steps inside, toeing off his shoes before rounding the corner to the kitchen.

“you shite!” johnny laughs out as he spots gaz in the kitchen. they both chuckle, embracing each other in short hug, slapping each other on the back.

“y’broken?” you hear johnny ask, and gaz shakes his head.

“nah, all good.”

johnny nods, patting gaz on the shoulder before his eyes shift to you.

“see y’ve met my sis,” he says, moving towards you and ruffling your hair. you groan, slapping at his hand. gaz laughs. “hope she hasn’ given ya trouble.”

“I just came in,” gaz says, eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.

“so she hasn’ had the chance yet, then,” johnny jokes, and you roll your eyes. “chinese alrigh’ gaz?”

the other man nods, and the two soldiers fall into familiar conversation. you feel as though you’re intruding, and you attempt to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed, but gaz stops you by mentioning your name.

“I was just telling your sister that she’s not sleeping on the couch,” he tells johnny, and then his eyes slide to you. you look sheepish, like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

“oh, o’course not,” johnny agrees. “I can take the couch, she’s my sister.”

“we could switch, yeah?” kyle looks at johnny. “that couch isn’t that comfortable, mate. I don’t wanna be hearin’ you complain about your back in a few days.”

johnny laughs, but nods. “sounds good. looks like you’re livin’ the life then, aye?” he says to you, and you open your mouth to speak, but kyle beats you to it.

“actually, we were just talking about all that. your lovely sister here was saying she’d like to keep the flat clean.”

“s’that so?” johnny questions, eyebrows raised as he looks at you. “y’don’t have to do that.”

“I want to, johnny. it’s the least I can do after barging in on your lives.”

you can tell by the look on your brother’s face that he’s going to argue, so you swiftly cut him off.

“no arguments! it’ll give me something to do anyways.”

johnny concedes, then excuses himself to shower. you tell him you’ll order the food as he leaves the kitchen.

you and kyle are alone again, and his eyes are trained on you. you clear your throat before fishing your phone out of your pocket.

“what’s your order?” you ask him.

kyle grins. he knows what he’s doing to you.

god, this was going to be an interesting stay.

—————————————————

author’s note:

this is my first time really writing both johnny and Kyle, so I apologize if they seem ooc!

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outstretchedwingzz · 1 month ago

Text

♱ timeloop yan♱

i was scrolling back through some old art and found a drawing from like four years ago of my first ever yan oc!! so now he's y'all's problem hope u love him <3

(THIS IS SO LONG FOR A PART ONE LMAO IM SO SORRY)

⟡ The one on the right is the old art of him!! My boy!!

⟡ His name at one point was Lucas, however I'm retconning that and thinking of a new one because Why Would I Choose Lucas

⟡ Some Tuesdays are just better than others, you've decided. You had a rough day, some kid had spilled fruit punch down your front, you had spent a frankly ridiculous amount of time trying to de-popcorn the aisles of the movie theater you worked at, and you kept getting pestered by some shy dude who wouldn't even buy a ticket! He just kept asking nonsense questions and then shuffling back to the arcade!

⟡ All you wanted to do when you got home was shower until you were a raisin, play video games until your brain was mashed potatoes, and then curl up in your bed.

⟡ The next morning you wake up feeling a little better, very little residual blah left from how shit your previous day was. Luckily, you had today off to reset and recharge.

⟡ That being said, you stayed up late and slept in even later, only to be woken up to the sound of your phone ringing where you had tossed it the night before. You groan and grumble as you get up, shuffling your way to your phone and picking it up.

⟡ It's your boss, because why wouldn't it be, and he's asking you why the hell you aren't there yet! Your brain takes a moment to kick back into gear before you answer that you had worked a double YESTERDAY and had today off.

⟡ All you get is an angry "Check again! And be here before I start goin' grey, yeah?" and then he just hangs up on you. You fucking hate that guy. Still, you check your schedule while grumbling and muttering some not so nice things.

⟡ The shock and dread settles in your stomach when your calendar finally loads in, and in big, bolded letters at the top it tells you that today is Tuesday, and you definitely have work today.

⟡ You register that "oh. i think im passing out." in the second before you hit the corner of your desk.

⟡ You wake up with a gasp, sitting up quick and clutching your chest, looking around wildly only to find yourself.... back in your bed. The clock on your wall tells you it's morning. You scramble quickly to your feet, rushing to grab your phone and begging it to not be slow as you open your calendar.

⟡ Tuesday.

⟡ Now, skipping past the inevitable few Tuesday long breakdown you have where you simply refuse to believe this is happening, you eventually figure out the loop resets every night when you go to sleep, or if you somehow die. That was a fun few days.

⟡ After a week or so of this, and of screaming profanities as your boss over the phone for a few of the loops, you decide to maintain some normalcy you were gonna start going to work. Sure you never gained any money, but at least it got you out of your house and sometimes you could even pretend that things were different day in and day out.

⟡ After awhile even that gets boring though, when everyone becomes recognizable, and you begin to know what movie tickets they're gonna get and their exact food order.

⟡ It's only after three days of monotony (yet you refuse to stop going to work, clinging to the last shreds of some kind of normal) that you realize that it's not all the same.

⟡ Well, one thing changes. That guy, the one who kept asking questions that first day. Sometimes he wasn't even there, and everyday he seemed to have different questions. Ranging from personal, to stuff about the work, but still different.

⟡ It's that sudden lightbulb moment that has you going off the rails just a tiny bit.

⟡ You're stuck waiting a few days for the next time he comes in, but eventually he does. He always does. He's hardly able to get a word out before you're scrambling over the counter, and grabbing him by the front of his shirt. You choke him a little on his own necklace, but that's fine.

⟡ It's not until you're in the corner of that dusty little arcade he hangs out in that you shove him up against the wall, glaring daggers into his soul.

⟡ (Ignore the way he wets his lips and just how much it looks like he's giving you heart eyes right now it's all totally in your imagination.)

⟡ "Who the fuck are you, and how the fuck are you doing this?" Are the first words out of your mouth. He looks confused for a second, going to open his mouth when you just start rambling.

⟡ About the never ending fucking Tuesday, about having to clean up the same spills everyday, about getting the same bullshit call from your boss, about selling everyone the same! Fucking! Movie ticket! It's never ending!

⟡ It's not until you stop to breathe that you realize just how hard he's shaking. Just how his chest heaves as he sobs, hands having came up to clutch at your wrist desperately.

⟡ You step back quickly, dropping his shirt and in turn dropping him. He scrambles forward on his knees, gripping the thighs of your pants with shaking hands.

⟡ "You're stuck too?"

#yandere #sub yandere #yan boy #timeloop yan #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere x reader #gn reader #hes so gross i love him

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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year ago

Text

about: just some smut to fend off jetlag. i love sleepy Bradley, I make no excuses that I feel he does his best work in the early hours of the day. This was supposed to be a drabble… it’s not anymore. Sorry.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, pure fluff, smut.

masterlist.

The morning after the night before when Bradley met your family for the first time, you'd flown across the world to surprise your dad for his birthday and really, it luckily coincided with Bradley's time off. When you mentioned heading home for your old man's special day that usually kicked off your family's holiday season, you almost fell out of your seat when he said maybe it was time he met the fam face-to-face, not just making small talk over FaceTime. It almost didn’t seem fair that he was subjected to meeting everyone this way, but alas… here you were the next morning, jet lag kicking in while wrapped protectively in Bradley’s strong, golden arms and washed in the relief your family fucking loved him. You weren't overly surprised.

Bradley's quiet, unassuming charm was just who your mum wanted you to end up with, he was into golf and surfing, so your dad and brothers thought he was the bee's knees. Your sister on the other hand...

You had to fend her off more than you would have liked. You were confident in your relationship with Bradley, knowing he'd never allow anything to happen. "You're coming across a little desperate," you hissed after one or two drinks, which mortified her, and she apologised, admitting she was just happy to finally get to meet the guy who'd swept you off your feet. "Yes, my feet," you reminded her. When she pointed out how possessive you sounded, you didn't deny it. But she got it and gave you space for the rest of the evening.

Ahh, sisters.

Bradley felt your body writhe in the gentlest of movements against his and he sighed. Sleep hadn’t come easy for either of you and compounded with the food and booze you’d indulged in the day before, neither of you slept much. “You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered at God-knows-what-o’clock.

“What time is it?” You asked softly.

“I dunno, baby. Sun is barely rising,” he admitted. “Can’t hear a peep in the house.”

Which was nice because yesterday was intense. Everyone was so excited to meet your new American boyfriend (fairly, it’d been about eight months, give or take with a few deployments), the incredibly handsome navy pilot whom you’d met one evening at a naval bar while travelling. You’d caught his eyes behind his sunglasses while he played the piano, the crowd around him as swept away with him as you were. The first half-smile in your direction, as he sang, had done you over in a way not one single person on the planet had before.

He'd charmed you instantly. He still charmed you constantly.

“Did you get any sleep?” you asked, biting back a yawn.

“Not really,” he peppered tender kisses into your shoulder blade and smiled into your skin as you pressed back into him, the oh-so-quiet moan made for his ears only waking him from his dreaded fog as well. “I’ll try and get a kip somewhere today. That fuckin’ flight murdered me.”

“You were happy to fly economy,” you muttered. “I know you’re used to tight quarters, but fuck Bradley. It was 15 hours."

“I know, I know I fucked up. I was looking at upgrades overnight. I’ll use my discount and stuff; we can do it flying home.”

“You sure?”

“Sue me for wanting to save a buck,” he sighed, with a tired, deep chuckle. “Flight was so full; people may as well have been sitting on the wings.”

“It’s Christmas. People travel.”

“You don't say,” he affectionately gripped your waist, rolling you to him and kissed you. “Good morning, I think," he nuzzled your nose against his and asked if you wanted some water or anything.

You shook your head, rolling back and snuggling into him as he adjusted his arms around you again, his nose buried in your hair. "I think Dad is gonna expect you for at least nine holes today."

"I think so, yeah. Grill me and make sure I'm good enough for his little girl.” He murmured and if he was honest, he was the teeniest bit nervous. He’d never really been in relationships long enough to meet families… and who would he introduce anyone to, except for Mav?

"I think you'll be fine."

"He probably wouldn't be if he knew what a deviant I've turned his smart, beautiful baby girl into.”

You giggled quietly as you could feel the soft ends of his moustache curve into a smirk against the nape of your neck. "He'd send you back on the first flight to LA."

"I would believe that," he said softly.

"I think yesterday went really well, Bradley," you confided quietly to him.

"You think? I was on my very best behaviour," he teased you.

"Yes, you were," you admitted. Not that he ever wasn't. Bradley was instilled with a remarkable set of manners. He was chivalrous and courteous to a fault, incredibly sweet and at times, pensive, even shy. Almost make believe that you were lucky enough to share his time. You wriggled back against him, and you could feel the hard-on straining through his boxer briefs. "Down, boy."

"Can't help it," he sighed. "You know what you do to me with that ass. I know what you want. You're not that transparent."

You bit back your pleased smile as his wandering hands travelled down your side, fingertips toying with the hem of his old Navy tee that was now your bed shirt. At home, you were nude sleepers. At your parents' home during the holidays? You showed decorum and respect and you both hated it, preferring skin-on-skin of the other but alas, anyone could walk in at any time.

“Have a thought about how we might be able to fuck this jetlag off…”

“Oh, yeah?” at this point, you’d do anything and with Bradley’s travel for work, you hoped maybe he might have some insight. You had planned to just power through and try not to be the world’s most exhausted asshole.

"You just move your thigh a little this way..." he murmured, his palm cupping your hamstring and you pressed back into him, grinning softly. “And I just slide up in here – ”

“Confident of you, don’t you think?”

“You’re always wet for me,” he whispered against your skin. “Unless you deny it.”

“Never…” you told him, reaching back to wrap an arm around his strong neck. “I just can't keep it down with you. Why didn’t you convince me to get the AirBnb?”

He loved how vocal you were during sex. Your moans, the hisses, the way you'd bite your lip when you were so close. That groan as you came, or the little squeal when you were too sensitive was burned into his brain as his favourite sounds in the world.

"Just lemme hold you then, it's okay, sweetheart," he grumbled. “I’ll live if you can.”

“Asshole,” you muttered as he chuckled.

“Do you want a blowjob?” You nervously offered, turning back to him and he looped your thigh over his hip and perched you above him with such little effort on his behalf - you loved how strong he was but you knew what was waiting for you, Bradley made no secret he was turned on and you loved that you were able to have him on a knife-edge at all times.

The one per cent, he’s told you once before.

You’re so sweet to him as you slowly dragged your hand into the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing more and more skin, cock springing free, slapping against his toned, tanned Adonis belt. Long, thick and dripping with precum already and he almost blushed at how eager he was.

“I’ll never say no,” he replied, “And I know you might be uncomfortable here. Your dad is right across the hall, baby."

“But my daddy is right here…” you immediately corrected him, and he smiled darkly to himself. You didn't use that term lightly, you couldn’t nfi fed to him he had the ability to bring out your innermost feral when you least expected it and he would do his utmost to encourage it (if you were comfortable).

“Jesus,” his head was swirling, trying to keep calm and not blow his load the second you bared your tongue to him but there was absolutely nothing sweet about it. He was a preening mess when you went down on him. The night you'd told him you weren't overly experienced in blow jobs was the greatest night of his life, coaching you through what he liked and watching you perfect your generous technique time and time again.

These days, you loved giving Bradley head. He gave you confidence, he made you feel sexy and not like it was only about him on the receiving end. He’s whispered and encouraged, and when it all got too much, he told you he was close. He was neither here nor there on the whole spit or swallow thing… until you and your preference but he was never left empty-handed.

"Shh," you hissed. "Not a sound."

That one thing you did for him that absolutely made him come undone. And he'd bury his face in your pussy all day if you allowed him to show you how fucking grateful, he was for all the pleasure you presented him. Your sweet, tight wetness that he would eagerly drown himself in if you’d let him.

Your honeyed tongue delicately tasted the flawless head of his cock, lapping up the precum as Bradley's eyes rolled back into his head and his big hands reached to knot into your hair as you went to work, swirling your tongue and looking up with your big, scheming eyes, knowing you had him at his most precarious.

He was a weapon in his training, his mind and body were always primed to do what was asked of him, but you were the exception and it scared and excited him.

He could feel himself getting so close to painting the back of that beautiful mouth, and while it pained him to say it, the way your eyes softened told him he’d made the right choice. “Come on, baby, I want you.”

You gently pulled away and asked, “You don’t want me to finish?”

“No, I wanna fuck, baby. Watch you lose control.”

“Okay,” you said, your soft hand trading with your warm mouth to tenderly pump and tease him.

“Gimme a sec. I don't have condoms close,” he whispered. “They're in my luggage.”

"Just pull out, sweetheart," you enticed him, wanting to feel all of him. It was so infrequent you fucked without protection, and of course, you both preferred it that way but after a pregnancy scare (or not, neither of you was really sure) a few months back, you'd both decided to stop tempting fate and ensuring there was a stash of condoms at his place, your place... the goddamn Bronco – Bradley understood that it was your body and you didn’t want to be on the pill. A condom was the least he could do, and he knew it.

Bradley helped you move up his body and rest you above him. "Are you sure?" he kissed you, your gleaming teeth lightly stinging into his bottom lip with an affectionate nip.

“I trust you,” you told him. "Cum where you need...”

Truth be told, he wanted to cum deep, but he licked back a wet smile and he moved to his knees to pull his navy tee over your head, bearing your beautiful breasts to him, full, round, nipples begging for attention. “On your back, baby,” he urged, guiding you under him, anticipating how wet you were for him, legs splaying open unashamed. He rested the head of his cock on your weeping cunt, his fingers spreading your bare lips and sweeping your slick across your clit, fascinated by that little peep of desperation from you. Your head fell back against the pillows, bliss sweeping through you as he sweetly pressed one finger into you. “Drippin’,” he reported, pressing in another finger and his thumb rubbing tenderly against your throbbing clit. “Gonna gush for me?”

You probably would, Bradley’s ability to drag absolutely everything out of you blew your mind each time. “Need your cock. Fill me up, Bradley.”

Pushing in, one delicious inch by delicious inch, licking his full lips as your back curved to take him as deeply as possible. He buried his face in your breasts, holding one in his calloused palm, eyes fluttering closed as he traced, left wet, open-mouthed kissed and tenderly bit the other, and the groan you let you made him clamp his palm over your mouth. “You’re so wet, baby,” he stared deeply into your eyes as he evened his breath with the first few rolls of his slender hips. "But you're gonna wake your parents if you don’t control yourself."

"Let them fuckin' hear," you muttered behind your hand (you’d die if they heard you though) as he chuckled and began his ruthless assault on your senses, one thrust at a time.

"You're too good to me," Bradley reminded you in disbelief.

"All for you," you confided, as you watched the beads of sweat break across his brow as you dug your nails into his well-worked traps, willingly knowing it would leave a mark courtesy of your fresh manicure. You raised your hips to meet his deep, plunging thrusts, fucking into you strong and deep. He felt incredible, you don't think anyone had loved on you as Bradley Bradshaw could. So thorough, and never one to leave you hanging.

Too long, too sore? He'd pause and tenderly withdraw to hold you, reassuring you that it was fine, and your comfort was paramount. Too sensitive after coming too hard, he'd give you time to recover, finding other ways to bring you pleasure.

It was nice to be considered in your relationship, in your sex life especially. In the past, you'd been made to feel like a machine, if you didn't cum, partners still could, and you'd just deal with it. For a long time, that stuck with you and having someone consider you like Bradley would almost seem too good to be true at the start.

But that consideration never lapsed. He was make-believe and you fucking hoped if this man and everything he brought to you was a dream that you’d never, ever wake up.

Desperate to keep himself controlled, Bradley reached for the headboard of your old bed, gripping it for dear life as he tried so damn hard to avoid coming. He loved fucking you raw, and since birth control was completely your choice, you two had to stop playing this dangerous game. Because one day? It would beat you both.

"I need to cum, Bradley," you whined to him as he nodded, chewing his lower lip, and putting your delicate fingers in your mouth, not losing his rhythm. He knew. He knew how close you were.

"Lemme see you touch yourself, baby. Get those fingers - " he gasped as you clenched around him. "Get 'em nice and wet and play with that sweet, tight pussy. Lemme see you fall apart.”

Before, language like that would embarrass you, but with Bradley, it only spurred you on. It was incredible the ways he’d helped you grow and mature as a friend, partner and lover. As instructed, and in the low early morning light, Bradley’s breath hitched, watching you touch yourself and you couldn’t help it, the beat of his cock against your g-spot, your fingers pressing rough circles into your clit and you started to come.

“Yes, baby. Yes,” he urged, moving his mouth to your ear, whispering his sweet encouragement. “You feel so good, just a little mo – ” he forced his mouth against yours, kissing your pleasure to him, to keep the noise down. He wrapped his hand under your hip, lifting your waist to push harder into you as you trembled below him, your pussy clutching his cock, spasming as he shuddered against your lips. “Yes, baby.”

“Jesus, Bradley, fuck me,” you begged as his hips speed up like a piston, thrusting hard into your swollen, sensitive pussy, his hand clutching yours away from your strained clit and pressing intensely in your place, hoping to drag your orgasm out and as you fell, lifeless, back against the squishy pillows, pussy pulsating, Bradley grunted low he was coming and after his final few thrusts, he quickly withdrew and unloaded, stroking himself until he was spent, pearly ribbons of cum decorating your belly and breasts.

He collapsed beside you, taking your cheeks in his face and kissing you wildly. “I love you. I love you, baby,” he kissed you again, and though you were spent, you returned his affections, because truly… you loved Bradley Bradshaw with your entire being. It was going to take a lot to change that. “Are you okay?” he asked, chest still heaving as he breathed, his pointer finger tracing through the mess he made on you.

“I’m good, sweetheart,” you assured him as he gave you one last, final kiss.

“Think that helped with your jetlag?” he teased.

“Makes me want another round,” you admitted as he chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

“Of course you do,” he pressed a kiss into your pulse and lifted his lips back to yours, holding you close and just like horny teenagers, enjoying making out for a few moments in the afterglow. “Where’s that shirt gone?” he asked, peering over the side of the bed, and cleaning you up. “Jackson Pollack painting here.”

“Be less proud,” you told him as he snorted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Perfect, but let me go pee,” you whispered as Bradley kissed you long and deep, he nodded into the kiss but was not quite ready to leave you leave him.

“Go, clean up, baby,” he helped you up from the bed, your legs precarious and meandering like Bambi. “Careful,” he sighed, wistfully. But he knew it already, you were thoroughly fucked, just how he liked it.

A few hours later and thankfully, a few more hours of sleep, your alarm woke you, the sun much higher in the sky and the heat of the day starting to rise. You’d showered and told him to come down when he was ready, you’d help your Mum with some brekky.

“You want eggs?”

“Anything,” Bradley admitted. “Famished.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” you cupped his face in your palms and kissed him lightly. “Don’t rush.”

“Okay,” he gave a small grin but didn’t much feel like lingering. After a quick shower, he dressed, annoyed he didn't pack any golf gear, at minimum the shoes that you gave him grief for every time he wore them, but maybe he'd treat himself and buy some at the course today. He rifled through his bag, clutching the velvet box in his palm tightly, convinced more than ever that this was real, this was happening and soon, he'd hope to have you wearing his mother's engagement ring too.

Slapping on his CVN-71 cap, he knew you went a bit feral when he perched it backward. May as well leave you with good thoughts while he was out and about, asking your old man for your hand on the golf course. And if it went badly, it was also something to identify him when the authorities found him if your dad said no.

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panxramic · 9 months ago

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Missa cubito ohmygod today’s stream was SOOO.

Firstly, I haven’t talked about this but the fact that q!Missa has finally accepted the family home as his home too makes me want to snob. The fact that he calls it HIS home too, after spending so long distancing himself and saying that he doesn’t deserve to live with them? It makes my heart spin. And yes he still has his movements of self doubt but he knows now that this is his home and this is where he will always return to no matter what.

And I adore the little things that Missa notices. Last stream he got so giddy over the barrel in the house with his name on it and got so happy that he was included with the rest of the family even if he didn’t have anything in it. And then once again today gasping and getting happy at seeing the barrel again as if it was the first time all over. Missa loves being loved and he adores the little things the family does to show it. And how does he return the favor? With drawings he can leave behind dedicated to each one of them. Because he loves his family and he will find a way to physically show it even if he can’t be awake when they are.

And ohhh today with the cakes. He struggled so much and he lost so much energy trying to make the birthday cake for Tallulah but he would not give up until he got it done for both of them because his kids deserve it. And can I also point out I don’t think he realized it was also Chayanne’s birthday but he still made him a cake because he wanted to give something to his son and not make him feel left out. And when he was making the drawing for Tallulah he would not stop and he would not let ANYTHING distract him because his daughter deserves the world and she deserves the perfect painting.

Then come the raccoons. He goes and helps them clean because maybe he can earn money for the family and help out more around the house -> something Missa has always struggled with. He always wants to provide for the family the way they have him so he goes along with these raccoons. Then it all goes to shit when Bad logs on and he finds out it was his home they were cleaning. He finds the dead bodies and he gets scared because… who is this man he’s been calling his friend? Why does he have a grave of bodies underneath his home?

Missa runs. He tries to run away from q!Bad but he always finds him. And then it gets revealed that Missa was working with the raccoons and Bad backs away from Missa because how could he betray him. And Missa does try to explain it, he doesn’t know what is going on. He’s lost and confused and no one is answering his questions. q!Bad threatens and leaves q!Missa with the racoons just for the racoons to stab Missa in the back and rob him too.

This is when he asks himself, who can he trust? q!Bad isn’t who he thought he was, and the racoons betrayed him. He has considered q!Bad a friend for a long time because he’s always on when Missa is on and is always there to help (though if you ask me I would argue the opposite). He tried finding a way to justify Bad’s behavior, even the stuff chat brings up until he can’t. So, he goes back home and prepares a letter to Phil.

Because he realizes after everything in his life, after continuously trusting and relying on the wrong people, he concludes he can only trust q!Phil.

Missa never really leaves letters. His thing has always been paintings and small gifts. But for the first time (in what might be a long time) he leaves Phil a letter. Now that he’s accepted this is his home, he sees it’s also a place people can use to hurt him, in this case q!Bad.

Notice how when q!Bad came back and said he was gonna prank q!Phil and left, q!Missa immediately ran in to check on the kids? His priority and his fear will always be losing his family. He has spent so much of his life pushing himself a way from them, he doesn’t want to lose them when they’re so so close.

But as always… Missa runs. He runs away and sleeps somewhere else for tonight.

In his defense, I will say that this time it’s different. He’s running to protect his family. Is it the best option? I don’t think so. Missa always has struggled with feeling like he isn’t enough. And in this case, his families lives could be in danger so he runs away, because it’s his fault and he isn’t enough to protect them.

I will say. Things have changed. Because this time around he warned Phil. These two have had SOOO many instances of miscommunication and not talking to one another and we finally have a moment in which Phil is hearing directly from Missa. Not some other character, not his kids, Missa.

And the last thing Missa said when he went to bed. He wasn’t sleeping on a bed, because the only bed he will ever sleep on is the one in his home. LIKE FUCK. Yes he ran, yes he left to protect his family. But that’s his home. That’s where he will ALWAYS return to for comfort and safety. It isn’t a forever. It’s just for now.

For the first time, Missa is certain he will always have a home to return to.

#sorry if this makes no sense #I love Missa cubito so much #I just had to spit this out #qsmp #marv rants #death family #qsmp missa #qsmp philza #deathduo

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claritys-silly-things · 26 days ago

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I forgot I ever wrote this so imma give it to you now outsiders tumblr. It’s unfinished and also I haven’t read through it so whatever typos are there are just there ig

Ponyboy stumbled through the front door of his house and collapsed on the couch. Today had been busy.

It was the end of his freshman year, so there were lots of tests, and he had a track meet right after. Not to mention he had stayed up studying and barely ate anything because his anxiety over testing was too much for him to keep anything down.

Needless to say, Pony was exhausted. But he wasn’t able to rest just yet.

“Ponyboy, is that you?” he heard Darry call from the kitchen.

Pony groaned and stood up. “Yeah. Coming.”

He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the doorway. “Whatcha need?”

Darry looked up from the vegetables he was cutting. “Some help with dinner would be nice.”

Pony looked at the ingredients Darry was using and came to a conclusion the older boy was making soup. He checked the potatoes in the pot and decided they were cooked enough and drained them.

They finished the dinner, mashing all the veggies and mixing them with milk and seasoning. Darry cut a few slices of bread and started to portion the soup into bowls. Ponyboy went to set the table.

As he was readjusting the napkins for the fifth time, Pony heard the front door open and shut. He watched as Johnny walked inside and peeked around the corner to see if anyone was in there. Then he saw Ponyboy and walked over.

“Hey Pone,” he said. He sounded about as tired as Pony did.

“Hiya, Johnnycakes,” Ponyboy said, trying to wake himself up a bit now that Johnny was here. “You hungry?”

Johnny paused for a minute before nodding. Pony gestured to a chair and went to fetch more stuff to set his spot at the table.

As he walked into the kitchen, Pony said, “Johnny’s here,” in Darry’s general direction before grabbing more silverware and walking back out to the dining room.

“So,” Pony started as he placed down the spoon and fork he had grabbed on the table, “What brings you over this time?”

Johnny looked up at Ponyboy. “Same shit as always, man…”

Pony sighed sadly and walked behind Johnny. He grabbed his shoulders from behind.

“It’s okay Johnnycakes. One day you’ll leave those wretched people and we can go live out in the country or something.”

Pony leaned forward and turned his head to look at Johnny. “Won’t we?”

Johnny chuckled. Pony always got more cheery and loose when he was tired. He placed his hand over one of Pony’s.

“We will.”

Pony smiled and stood up straight again, shaking Johnny’s shoulders as he spoke.

“Yesss, it’ll be so fun. The scenery will be so nice, and we could put flowers on the windowsill—“

“And you could read us stories, and outside we could have a garden! We just wouldn’t work too hard!”

Pony laughed as Johnny joined in his fantasizing. He leaned forward and hugged Johnny’s shoulders from behind, sighing.

“It’s real nice talking to you, Johnny…”

Pony was so relaxed he could fall asleep standing up at that point. And he just might’ve if Sodapop hadn’t walked in.

“What, uh- Whatcha doin’ there, Pone?” Soda said, voice faltering. He was trying not to laugh.

Pony shot up so fast he almost fell over.

“Whaddya mean?” He shook his head and sat down in the chair next to Johnny.

“Y’know what? Never mind,” Sodapop said, taking the seat across from Pony. “So. What’s for dinner.”

“We made cream of potato soup and there’s some bread to eat with it,” Pony said, telling both Soda and Johny because he realized he never told Johnny what they were gonna eat.

“Oh, hell yes.”

Pony snorted at Soda’s response before turning back to Johnny.

“You staying the night, Johnny?”

Johnny thought for a moment. It was nice enough weather that he could stay in the lot, but honestly, he didn’t want to.

“Yeah, I’ll stay tonight. I can sleep on the couch,” he decided.

“Naw, I’ll just sleep in the spare room or somewhere else,” Soda replied.

Pony raised an eyebrow at how quickly Soda decided.

“So quick to get away from me, huh brother?” Ponyboy bantered.

“And what if I am,” Soda said back jokingly. They met each other’s eyes with mischievous grins for a second before Soda broke eye contact and shrugged.

“But actually, I don’t want Johnny sleeping on the couch, cause he’s obviously tired,” Soda gestured towards Johnny’s disheveled look, “And I know he’s more comfy sleeping around you.”

Ponyboy reddened slightly at that. “O-okay.”

Thankfully, Darry started bringing out servings to everyone and they dug in. Well, Pony prayed first, a habit he’d gotten from his parents, and then he ate. After basically not eating all day, the soup tasted like the most delectable thing ever.

Darry sat down at the head of the table and ate a few spoonfuls of soup before asking, “So how was everyone’s day?”

Soda was the first one to speak up. “It was good. Some girls came into the DX today. There was this one girl named Sandy, she seemed really nice.”

Pony looked over to see Soda a little dreamy-eyed and sighing. He scoffed.

“What? Can’t a guy have a little crush on a chick every now and then?”

Pony snickered and rolled his eyes. Darry was stifling a laugh as well.

“What about you Ponyboy? How was your day?” Darry cut in before they went on any longer and it turned into a back and forth.

“Eh, it was fine. Tiring as hell, but there wasn’t really anything too special about the day I guess,” Pony answered between bites of food.

Darry hummed in acknowledgment. There was a silence while everyone ate a few bites of food. Finally, after a minute or two of quiet, Darry asked Johnny, “What about you, Johnny? Anything noteworthy happen today?”

Johnny looked up from his bowl, spoon halfway to his mouth. He put it down and thought for a minute.

“Um…I basically did the same things as Ponyboy. Lots of tests and stuff. I’m sure they were different because uh…we’re in different grades. I don’t think I did too well. I just hope I don’t get held back…”

Johnny paused for a moment and everyone waited.

“I- uh… Got kicked out of the house again. Same ol’ same ol’ I guess.”

Everyone looked at Johnny with empathy and a bit of pity. Johnny didn’t like being pitied, but it happened anyways.

Darry spoke first. “One of these days we’ll get you out of those monsters’ care and you can come stay here or wherever else and never have to deal with them again.”

Johnny nodded. He heard a similar sentiment pretty much daily from different members of the gang and just accepted it every time. He knew them meant it, and it felt nice to know someone cared.

Suddenly he felt Pony squeeze his hand from under the table.

“Don’t forget you can still stay here now. You don’t gotta be scared that you can’t,” Ponyboy said, looking at Johnny.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Johnny said with a small smile.

Eventually, everyone has finished their dinner and started to clean up. Once the table was cleared and he dishes were washed, everyone started to get ready for bed.

Ponyboy lent Johnny some pajamas and they sat together on Pony and Soda’s bed. Darry came in to say goodnight to the two.

“Don’t stay up too late, boys.”

“You really don’t gotta worry, Dar,” Pony laughed, already getting under the covers. “I am spent.”

Darry chuckled and turned the light off. “Goodnight, Pony. Goodnight, Johnny.”

“Goodanight, Darry,” they both said before Darry shut the door.

Within a few minutes, Pony was already asleep. He could be the heaviest sleeper in the world. He’s out in seconds and will stay out until the person he’s sleeping with leaves.

Johnny was the complete opposite, a result of the household he grew up in. The slightest noise would wake Johnny up, and it was hard for him to get to sleep in the first place. And he seemed to be having that problem right now.

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sameschmidtdiffname · 10 months ago

Note

Hey I love your work so much!!

I was thinking of maybe a Mike Schmidt x reader where the reader is all like “I’m not good enough for you, I don’t deserve you” stuff and then like Mike makes it up to the reader to show them that they are more than enough 🫶

Sure, but it's gonna hurt!

Blue Sunrise

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: All is well, yet you aren't. A fact that disturbs and irritates you so, even if it shouldn't.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no use of gendered pronouns for Reader, SFW with brief mentions of smut, pre-established relationship, set during the movie but that's honestly not very relevant, hurt/comfort, Reader and Mike both have PTSD, this isn't projection, bed rotting, depression, self-loathing, night terrors/nightmares, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, mentions of medication, lack of self care, slight self-harm (scratching), breakdown, nosebleed.

Notes: *in sonic snapcube dub voice* heyyyyyyyyyyyy what's upppppppppppppp it's meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (STOP!!)

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

6:34 A.M.

The dawn is gentle, the sky a soft blue behind the thin, cheap blinds that cover the bedroom window not that far in front of me. If I wanted, I could get up and open the window, revealing the surely beautiful and gorgeous sunrise that waits for me just outside the blinds.

But I don't. And I won't.

Birds sing gently outside, waking up and fliting about here and there. It's my favorite part of the day, quite frankly. When I can, I open the window to allow in the fresh, cool air, moist with the morning dew, unmuffling the bird's songs as I drift off to sleep, my schedule mostly in tune with Mike's for his night shift. Sometimes I manage to stay awake to greet him when he returns home. It's always nice when I do. His smile is lazy, his strides long and slow as he makes his way to the bed, peeling off his work clothes and crawling under the covers with me. Sometimes he'll press himself against me, his lips finding my neck as his hand dives between my thighs, his fingers trained on one goal as he murmurs against my skin how much he's missed me. Sometimes I wake to this.

There's a part of me that wishes he'd do this today just so I wouldn't have to think.

The lock on the front door rattles as someone attempts to insert a key into the hole. It doesn't matter how long he's lived here or how he uses those keys every morning, he still takes a moment to make sure he's using the right one, and on the first try he usually isn't. So it takes him a solid minute to unlock the door and enter the house. If we had dogs, they'd surely drive us insane from his routine. It slightly drives me insane already. But I'm technically not even supposed to be awake, so I never mention it.

When Mike finally enters the house, the first thing I hear after the satisfying break of the doors seal ringing throughout the living room is a deep sigh as Mike's backpack lands in front of the coat rack. He should be quieter about setting it down. I would be. But I think he assumes we should be so deep in sleep it really wouldn't matter, and it honestly doesn't make much noise. Just a slightly dull 'thud' against the thinly carpeted floor.

Next I can hear his car keys land in the bowl they're meant for. Again, he's a bit too loud with it all. At least, while people are sleeping. But it's not really a bother. In a way, I like it. It gives me a routine to memorize, his sounds before he'll trail to our room and come press himself against me.

The rocking recliner creeks softly as he sits in it, lazily undoing the laces on his boots before he tosses them towards the coat rack. And next he'll duck his head into the fridge I'm sure and look for the leftovers I put into a big bowl for him to warm up - which he won't, because he's a psychopath who likes cold food. - and then when my alarm goes off, he'll come to wake me up, rising from the old couch where he's very quietly reading his book while he eats and do whatever he has to do to prevent me from slipping back into sleep. He's very good at that job. Especially when he uses his tongue.

But today there's a break in the routine. Today, his footsteps are padding towards our room, the door quietly opening as he slips in. I can hear him let out a soft sigh as he tugs on his hoodie, pulling it off and then discarding of his jeans, which muffle the clack of his belt buckle as he slips them off. Left in his undershirt and boxers, he crosses the room to open the blinds and the window, letting in the fresh air and leaning against the thin windowstill for a moment. Now, I can see him.

He looks rested, a little more than he should for having just finished a night shift. I keep telling him he's going to get fired, but he always wiggles his way out of that conversation. The bags usually under his eyes aren't too deep this morning, which while problematic is relieving. His skin is pale blue from the dawns light that pours into the room. His dark curls are more thick on the top of his head, clumped together from him not brushing them after his shower. He must've used too much conditioner, because his hair also looks thicker than it usually does. The breeze blows his oversized pale blue shirt against his chest as he leans forward, allowing his eyes to close as he takes in a deep breath. It feels like an overly private moment. Like I've intruded by watching him. I don't see him like this much when he isn't alone. When he's with me or Abby, he's alert. Somewhat on guard. It's like he's watching us to make sure we're okay. He's too used to things falling apart in an instant. But when he's alone, physically or emotionally, the walls crumble away to reveal a man who enjoys peace. Who smiles softly as he bends down low, resting his chin upon his arms, letting the dawn greet him and being the supposed first in the house to greet the dawn. And I feel like a stalker for watching him. A scene that feels as if I've stolen what will now only exist deep in my mind for when I want to remember one of the few times he has truly ever looked at peace with the world. It's a scene out of a painting. As private as a prayer. I should grant him more privacy, but I don't. In a captivated and enchanted way, I can't.

I'd never tell him this, but in this moment he looks like his mother. And not in the sense of him being her son. No, based off of the few photos I've seen of her in more private, intimate instances, like when she was holding a very small Mike on her lap on his second birthday, or when Mike's father had stolen a photo during their honeymoon when she wasn't looking, Mike looks just like her. Quiet, serene, not hiding anything from anyone because there's no need. At this moment it is just him and the gentle, late winter breeze that makes my nose begin to sting. He's beautiful. Just like she was.

The moment comes to an end, and now it is just a moment that exists only within my mind as his eyes open. The blue dawn brings out the green in his eyes that's usually hidden by artificial light that overpowers the amber, turning them mostly black in some instances. That's the color I thought they were until I saw him in proper daylight. His long lashes bat once, twice in an almost sleepy manner as he shifts his focus, now turning his head to look at me. I shut my eyes quickly, my canines biting into my tongue to force myself to keep a straight face. But it's too late. We made eye contact, even if it was only for a second, and now he knows I'm awake.

"Sweetheart?" He whispers softly, his voice low and slightly gravelly in the way it always is. His 's' and 't's just a tad sharp, clear as always when he speaks. I hear the floor groan as he pads towards me.

I don't speak. I'm not supposed to be awake. I should be asleep, he would rather I was asleep. I tried to be asleep.

He stops in front of me, I can hear the floor groan louder as he crouches in front of me. He's trying to decide if I'm awake or not, if maybe he'd been tricked into thinking we made eye contact. But something convinces him he hasn't, and the bed sinks as he places a hand upon the mattress to support his weight while he kisses my temple.

"Hi," he whispers against my skin, placing another kiss just above the curve of my brow. "Good morning." He places another kiss on the space between my brows, his lips now trailing up to the middle of my forehead. "You look so pretty like this."

Like what? My skin shining with oil, my nose dirty, my body heavy from not having moved?

Something makes him pause when his lips find my cheek. He keeps his lips pressed against my skin for a moment before he pulls away, licking his lips as he looks closer at me.

"Hey," he whispers softly, a finger finding my chin. "Open your eyes."

I don't want to. When I do he'll instantly know what I've been doing, and I don't want to handle it. I don't want to deal with it.

His hand slips under my head, between my cheek and my pillow.

"Sweetheart, your pillow's wet," he says in quiet surprise. "Open your eyes, talk to me."

Hesitatingly, I obey. Cracking my eyes open and trying not to reveal how horrid the dryness in them feels after allowing them rest for a few moments after keeping them open for what could have been hours at this point. Mike's face is inches from mine, his brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scan for other obvious signs of distress.

"Hi," I croak in a tired, unused voice as I try to pretend all is well. Mike unfortunately knows better.

"What happened?" He asks concerningly, taking in the tone he does whenever Abby is upset, fretting over me like I'm an injured child as both of his hands cup my face, his lips finding what he's confirmed are thin, itchy and salty tear tracks, placing several, feather-light kisses along them.

"Nothing," I answer honestly, my voice still cracking. "I'm fine."

"Your eyes are red, baby," he says softly, pulling away to look at me again while his body inches closer. "You look like you've been crying for hours."

Ha. I wish. If I had been, maybe I'd feel better about everything. But instead, I've been lying here since Abby went to bed, feeling numb and dead internally as I willed myself to be upset about anything. Work, bills, the color of the walls. I'd succeeded maybe twice, little tears streaming down my face for a minute or two. But then they would stop, and it would feel as though I couldn't cry. Really cry. Like there was some emotional, maybe physical block preventing me from just truly letting all of my emotions out in a possibly hysterical fit. One that would mean I could connect to my humanity. I don't know what's wrong with me. So, instead I just say "I haven't cried."

Mike opens his mouth to call bullshit, but his brow furrows tighter as he thinks. "What's wrong?" He asks again, now lifting my head to allow one arm to slip underneath so I can lay upon it.

"Nothing," I answer again, truly unsure of what to say. "I'm really okay."

And I am. Work is fine, I am fine. Friends are fine. I don't have entitlement to be upset.

"Is it another episode?" Mike asks softly, now pulling his body onto the bed to lie next to me, fully committed to being partner of the year over here. Ugh. Great.

"No," I answer quickly, averting my gaze. Mike's hand cups my cheek, his body cool compared to mine. I'm soaked in sweat from sleeping - read: laying motionless on the bed since 9:30. - in too warm of clothes in too warm of a room under too warm of blankets. I probably stink. Meanwhile the morning air makes Mike feel refreshing. He's perfect. I'm a mess.

"It's okay if it is," Mike says softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of if-"

"I'm not having an episode," I say firmly, cutting him off as though it will solidify my statement more than his if I finish mine first. "I'm just not."

I don't pretend to be perfect. I'm not, and I never will be. I know that's okay. I know episodes happen, and that I'll be okay. I've been so much better lately on my new schedule. I'm working, I'm happy.

I have absolutely no good reason to be in the midst of a depression episode. One where the memories won't leave my mind, where I can't sleep, can't think about anything but the past. It plays in my head over and over again, and I can't stop it. Even though I try. I read, I journal, I bathe. But I don't feel real. People don't feel real. Mike is disorienting in the sense that he is the only thing that truly feels real. Where the pale color of the sheets seems hypnotic, his slightly tan skin contrasts to remind me this place really does exist. The furniture and details of the room seem as real as something from a video game, renderings that aren't as realistic as they could be that blend into the wall more as you look. Flat. Nothing. But the freckles on his nose are real. Strikingly real. Overly real. It's as though someone took their time to place each one, carefully deciding their color, their opacity, their placement. I want and love each one, but at this moment they slightly torture me by drawing me into a comforting trap.

"I haven't had an episode in over a month, I'm better," I attempt to say in a firm, solid voice. But I'm too tired, too worn out. My chest burns both from anxiety induced heartburn and how shallow my breathing has been for the past several hours. Mike looks sad, and I hate that. Deeply.

"You have been doing better," he says softly, like a reassuring parent. "I've seen that. And I'm so proud of you."

But I still have this. I'm still like this. I still can't have people wrap their arms around me from behind because I'm instantly taken back to when it would end in me collapsed on the ground, panting, crying, calling out for help that just wouldn't come. I still can't wear shirts with too tight of collars because it always end with me half naked, ripping the shirt off while hyperventilating. That was how I had to tell Mike. For our first Christmas together he bought me this beautiful turtleneck, knowing I liked the style but didn't own many. A dark evergreen color, affordable but a lovely tight-knit material, I adored the thing. But the moment the shirt was over my head, the neck felt like a hand suffocating me, and though I tried to tolerate it fie as long as I could, it only took one casual graze of his hand along my back to send me reeling into a corner, hyperventilating, sobbing, blubbering like a terrified child as I clawed at my neck while he tried to get it off of me.

'I'm so proud of you.' The statement feels like a backhanded reward. It feels as though I'm an idiotic child who just can't learn their ABC's or basic fundamental math. It feels like I'm a small toddler surrounded by adults looking at me full of pity in their eyes while they think 'well, you'll never be normal by any means. But maybe one day if you're lucky, you'll work in a Subway.' But they don't tell me this. They just praise me for existing. 'You woke up today! You put on clothes today! You didn't kill yourself!' It makes me want to scream. Yes, even at him. I want to grab him by his shirt and scream until my voice is shattered 'don't praise me for the bare minimum! I'm not a child!'

But I know he's not. I know he feels the same way when he slips back in progress as well. There was a solid month last year where Mike's insurance refused to pay for his sleep medication due to some paperwork slip and such, something they eventually realized was a complete blip on their end. But that month was hell for Mike, who could barely sleep well even with the medication. His easy smirks were replaced with cracked lips, skin raw from constant biting. His eyes were filled with paranoia from lack of sleep, and worse were the night terrors. Mike didn't even know he was still capable of having them, usually sedated by his meds well enough that if there was a nightmare, he just stayed asleep. At worst he'd wake up in a haze, maybe a very short yelp if anything. But without his meds, it was screaming. Constant screaming. There were nights he would wake after only an hour and he'd start, his voice shrill and reverberating off the walls as he thrashed in the bed. You couldn't console him, touch made him worse. When it happened, you simply had to leave the room and pray he would be okay. The episode could last anywhere from five minutes to an hour, and you would know it was over when all you could hear was broken sobbing, quiet and childlike in nature. Then I would return to the room, and there he'd be. Sometimes wrapped in blankets, sometimes his shirt torn off of himself. Usually sitting either in the dark corner of the room or on the floor of our closet. Red, angry marks would trail along his skin from clawing at himself with his uneven nails, some of them being actual cuts he'd managed in his terror. I'd carefully clean his cuts with cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide while he silently stared ahead, too ashamed to speak or make eye contact with me. And too terrified to sleep again.

Sleep deprivation didn't help, either. One day I saw him with a Redbull stuck in his hand, seemingly never empty despite how much he drank from it. At first I thought it was one, than I realized it was three, then I realized I didn't really know what number he was on. It was surprising how well he could take the new, unusual load of caffeine that tastes sickly sweet without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow. I didn't realize he was trying to starve off sleep until the next morning when his leg was bouncing a mile a minute and he was snapping at every little thing. That day he had a breakdown over dropping an unpeeled onion. And that's when it slipped out.

I didn't judge him. I was terrified for him, but I didn't judge him. And I could tell the same was true for him when I would have my slips, though mine looked different. Mine looked like a lack of self care and rotting in our bed, staring pointlessly ahead until he would lift me off the bed and carefully guide me to a warm bath, where he'd gently wash my skin with a soft rag like I was a newborn while I stared ahead at nothing. At this point we had learned to tell the oncoming signs of each others episodes, and how to starve them off. And if we couldn't, how to help each other through them.

Usually, I don't mind. But today, it hurts. It all hurts.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks me gently, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone as he wraps me in his embrace, careful of where he places his hands on my person. Like I'm a bomb.

I don't want to be treated like this anymore.

"Yes," I sigh in an irritated voice, like it's the most inconvenient thing he should ask me such a question. But I haven't. I feel empty and yet too full at the same time, and guilt pounds behind my left eye with the ferocity of a headache that I can't just mother myself.

Mike doesn't believe me. He'll pretend he does, but the press of his lips betray him as he takes a deep breath in like he's trying to tell what wire to cut next.

"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" He asks softly, his thumb still stroking just below the raw corner of my eye. It burns. All of it.

'No,' I snap in my head. But I just tighten my jaw and press my own lips together.

"I'm not really hungry, but thank you," I say in a tight voice. Now he's going to pretend that's okay, and he'll go get his breakfast. Then he'll pretend he can't finish it all, joke lightly and say I gave him too big of a portion even though he eats like he's still a growing teenager, and offer me little bites as he "tries" to finish the rest, then eventually trick me into finishing it. He isn't slick, and I'm not a child.

"Hey," he says in a light whisper. "I was thinking maybe we could go out today? All three of us? Or I could call Max, see if she'll watch Abs for a little bit so we can get away?"

Distraction. Cute. I don't need it.

"That could be nice," I admit through half gritted teeth, not meeting his eyes. "Where to?"

"Anywhere," he says too quickly, obviously relieved to have a straw to grasp at. "Your choice."

Guilt twists in my chest like an alien creature settled in my lungs, burning as it begins to slither its way towards my throat to suffocate me on its wrath. He doesn't need to do this. Can't he see how well I'm doing?

"How was work?" He asks me in an attempt to keep me talking. Mike doesn't like silence, not like this. Not really any time. There's always noise throughout the house, whether it's a show on in the background or white noise from his cassette player. He can't stand silence. Especially from people.

"Work was..." Fine? The usual? Non-eventful?

"Good," I decide. Mike presses his lips together again. Stop doing that.

"Yeah?" He asks in a slightly tight voice.

"Yeah," I confirm in a tighter voice.

"You didn't... call out or anything?"

My bottom left back molar feels like it might snap from how tight my jaw is. "Why?" I ask, venom unintentionally creeping in.

"Just asking," he says quickly.

"Why?" I press harder, wanting to know who told on me. Abby hasn't even had the chance to speak with him.

'It's because he knows your patterns,' I think. 'He's trying to gage how serious this is.'

"Maybe we could go out for breakfast? We can wait until Abby wakes up, go get some Waffle Hous-"

"I'm not having an episode," I snap quickly, more harsh than I intended. My tone makes him flinch slightly, his eyes shutting for a moment as he takes another breath in. Now I'm scared he'll pull away.

"We... don't have to talk about this right now," he says softly, opening his eyes again and wrapping his arm around me tighter. "Let's just focus on breakfast."

The guilt pounds in my kidneys, which are sore since I haven't left the bed since I laid down after putting Abby to sleep, but I did have a full water bottle around 3:00 in the morning. It's not Mike's fault I backtracked. He's just trying to be nice. I'm the asshole here.

"I'm sorry," I say in a small voice, dropping my gaze and biting my tongue between my canines again to stop the tears that are now willing to come freely to burn my eyes during such an inappropriate moment.

"It's okay," Mike says softly, placing a kiss on my forehead. "Don't even think about it."

'Don't even think about the fact he's just trying to be a decent person and you can't even say 'thank you,'' a grating voice in my head chides me. 'What, you're too good for a free meal?'

"I'm sorry," I repeat softer, my nails digging into my wrist that I'm holding to keep control over myself. Mike's hand is searching for mine, ready to pry it away to prevent me from doing what I need to to prevent the waterworks.

"Hey." Stop with the 'hey's. "I said it's alright, you're okay."

It's all bad. Everything's bad, and it's not going to get better. I keep thinking I'll get better, I keep thinking I'll be okay. But every two steps forward is one step back and I can't keep doing this redundant bullshit for the rest of my life. Am I going to be 40 at the office Christmas party sneaking off to freak out in the bathroom because something triggered me and I just can't get a grip on things? Am I even going to make it to 40?

Mike is comforting me, cradling my head to his chest and rocking me back and forth. And his shirt is wet. I don't like that his shirt is wet, it should be dry. Why is it fucking wet?

"It's okay," he's whispering in my hair while horrid choking sounds come from somewhere around us. Maybe the other room? "You're alright, it's okay."

I'm aware it's alright, I'm aware it's okay. Why are you wet? Why does my head hurt?

"I can't- sleep," my voice chokes out between guttural sobs, my face pressed into his chest. "It's all nightmares."

Oh. Shit. That's me. The wetness, I did that. My bad.

"I know, it's okay. How long?" Mike asks softly. What, are you gonna call my therapist?

"A week," I moan into his chest. My ribs expand with each recycled breath I steal from against his chest, and I can feel him trying to gently tug me away so I can get one with fresh, cold air instead. I don't let him. My lungs burn more. "They just won't stop."

"It's okay, it's only temporary," he says softly, his hand pushing away some of the blanket to relieve me of the boiling warmth underneath. The cold air is refreshing against my skin, even through my clothes are soaked with stinking sweat.

"No, it's not!" I cry hysterically into his chest. "They don't go away. None of it goes away. I want it to go away!"

He's nodding, rubbing circles on my back as I grip his shirt hard enough it may stretch.

"It'll get better. It did for awhile," he reminds me.

"But I'm back here. I always end up back here. I was doing so good!" I sob, feeling the wetness on his shirt begin to slightly thicken, probably due to snot. I try to sniff it back into my sinuses, but I think that just draws his attention to the new fluid he's covered in.

"That's okay. You'll do even better next time. And if you don't, that's okay too." Don't say what I think you're going to say. Do not. Michael, I'm serious, don't- "I'm still proud of you."

Fuck. Ooooooff!

This is the real release of my emotions. Now I'm gasping, choking, sobbing, making horrible sounds that sound like a European ambulance siren wailing through the streets to announce someone's dying on the way to the hospital. My head throbs with the pain from the heavy crying, and I may give myself a nosebleed from the passion of it all. And Mike, his patience thick and durable, just holds me through it all. Letting me soak his shirt, dirty his skin, grab at him blindly while I wail like a spoiled child, just repeating the phrase over again. 'Proud.' What pride. What honor to be had at such a breakdown. Yes, very understandable.

"I should be better," I sob into his chest. "You deserve better."

"What?" He laughs lightly, and at first it feels mocking, but then he's pulling my head away fron my soaked enclosure and his eyes are so gentle for a moment I know the light laughter is simply from surprise. Then his eyes widen and he's back in parent mode.

"Don't leave me. Don't leave me!" I choke out while gripping his shirt. At first he thinks I'm talking about our relationship, then he realizes I'm not letting him pull away.

"Sweetheart, you're bleeding," he gently explains. "Let me wipe your face. I just need tissues. I'm not even leaving the bed."

But that's too much. Let me bleed, let my head throb, let this headache take the vision away in my eye from how bad it hurts. Let anything happen so long as I can stay in this moment. Don't break the spell. Don't let me go numb again.

"Don't leave me," I cry pathetically, my eyes all scrunched together in the same manner as wailing infants, my grip on his shirt not breaking. Sure enough, there on the wet spot of his shirt is a dark stain of blood that should hopefully come out if we wash it fast enough.

"Let me do that," I'm saying as I try to peel off his shirt now. "Let me wash it."

He's gently guiding my hands away. "Don't worry about it," he says gently, kissing my hands and wrists like they might break even from the delicate graze of his lips. "Let me take care of you."

He does this all the time. He always takes care of me. I should do more. Be more. For him.

"You deserve better," I choke out, feeling like I may suffocate from the tears. Mike's brows furrow in concern, and he grips my chin very carefully as he makes me meet his eyes.

"Hey, no. Get that out of your head, it's all okay," he tells me softly, staring at me like if he can't verbally convince me, his hard stare will do the trick. "I don't want to hear you talk like that."

"I should be better," I repeat, my crying lessening slightly as I try to hold eye contact.

"You're getting better," he reminds me. "This is the happiest I've seen you since we met. You'll get back to that. Hell, you could feel the same way tonight. It's okay. Take a day off. We all need one, even normal people," he says softly, stroking my hair as he kisses my forehead. "Can you just let me take care of you in the meantime?"

No. Go away, let me rot.

"We can still go out for breakfast," he offers gently. "I can still call Max, or we can all stay in. I'll set up a nest in the living room so you can watch TV. Works you like that?"

Stop. Stop being nice to me, stop trying to make me feel better. It all just feels awful. I don't want this guilt, someone takes it away.

Mike must sense my overwhelmed emotions, because he places another kiss on my forehead before asking if he can clean my face again, and this time I say yes. He pulls away, which is still upsetting but less so. I don't make a deal out of it this time at least. He opens a drawer, searching for wipes and pulling them out before turning back to me.

"Do you want to sit up?" He asks gently. I bite my tongue to prevent another mocking thought directed towards me and nod. Bones crack as I do, my kidneys hurt worse. But at least I finally moved.

Tears still streak down my face as Mike wipes away the snot and blood, his large hand gently cupping my face as he does. There's a soft smile on his face, though I'm not particularly sure why. And when he's done, he runs his thumb along my bottom lip before placing his own lips on top of mine. They're chapped, one spot raw from excessive biting. But there's still some leftover chapstick on them, and it tastes like grapefruit.

I tug on his shirt, one hand sneaking under it to feel his cool skin underneath. He gently takes my wrist once more, then pulls away. A silent rejection. He knows that I'm just looking for a distraction from my emotions, and in a moment he'll offer a much healthier one. He does discard the shirt, leaving his chest bare, but only so that he doesn't smear my fluids back onto me as he pulls me in for another embrace.

"We'll be okay," he promises. "Everything will be okay."

"What if it's not?" I ask in a quiet, strained voice.

"Then it'll be okay later. You can take time to not be okay," he says.

There's a short silence before either of us speak. And when I hear his voice hitch in the way it does when he's about to say something, Abby's alarm rings crystal clear in her room. Then the sound of a truck rattles by on the road in front of the house. Birds continue to sing. And my pours feel so clogged I'm sure my skin will be lashing out for days.

But it'll all be okay.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

"Can we have some fluff to reco-" no. Suffer.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool @laurrrelise. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

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damthosefandoms · 2 months ago

Text

clothes, shoes, diamond rings, stuff that's driving me insane

(ao3 link) (based on this post)

Summary:

Soda is allowing himself to be selfish, just this once. Just about this. Because they promised, okay?

The diamond’s burning a hole in his pocket.

Soda’s parents have been dead for all of thirteen days, and he doesn’t really feel like a person anymore. He’s had a smile plastered on his face, the same one he’s always got on when the going gets rough—he once grinned his way to the hospital after he fell off a horse and tore his ACL. He kept it going after Mickey Mouse got shipped off to that ranch out in Garyville. He smiles every morning even though he dreads nothing more than going to school.

Finally he’s found something he hates more than school, but he’s still got to keep smiling, because the alternative—the way Darry’s working himself to death or how Ponyboy hasn’t spoken to anyone since they got the news—doesn’t really seem like an option. Their parents wouldn’t want that, Soda thinks… but he’ll never get to ask them what they want ever again.

The hospital sent Darry home with whatever they could salvage from the wreck, when he went to identify them. He and Dally walked back into the house, and Darry ran to the bathroom to throw up—who could blame him, after that?—and Dally wordlessly handed the small package over to Soda.

Their mom’s purse, their dad’s wallet, the rings—the first thing Soda pulled out was his dad’s dogtags, from Korea, where he spent all of the year after Soda was born. He hung the chain around his neck, sat back on the couch, and cried. He doesn’t really remember much else, and hasn't taken them off since. He knows Ponyboy dug through the rest. He probably found the rings in there, Soda assumes, and put it all back in their parents’ room for Darry to pick through later on. At this point, he kind of wishes they’d been lost in the accident, because it would’ve saved him so much grief.

“Why’d you go?” Soda asks him today, as they’re standing out in the stable Buck Merrill keeps his rodeo horses in. His parents—and by extension, now Darry—never allow Soda to come out to Buck’s, not unless they’re going to pick up or drop off Dally, but again: Soda’s parents are dead, and who the hell is going to care? So now he’s spent every afternoon here, the only place he can think when he needs to be alone, while Darry’s distracted trying to do everything all at once, and Ponyboy chainsmokes on the front porch with Johnny.

“Go where?”

“To the hospital. With Darry.”

Dally doesn’t respond for a second. He hands Soda a brush and motions for him to get to work, if he’s going to hang around. The horses aren’t going to groom themselves, and he knows damn well that Soda needs it, in the moment.

“I don’t know, man. He sure as hell wasn’t gonna drive himself that night, was he?”

But Dallas Winston is more complicated than that, and Soda knows it. Dally—by his own admission, if he wasn’t making it up for street cred—has seen a dead body before, and there was one time—once, in the dead of night, in the first few weeks after Dally got back from New York and was sleeping off that whole horrible experience on Soda’s living room couch—where he told Soda about it. Lifeless eyes, and the smell, the cold hands… Soda had forgotten about his midnight snack in favor of forcing a hug on somebody who might’ve stabbed him for it, had he not been at his lowest point. Dally might not be the most mentally stable kid around, but Soda is sure he wouldn’t just willingly put himself through that kind of conversation again.

He has no idea why he even got to hear any of it. He and Dally probably wouldn’t even be friends if they didn’t share a love of horses, or for those times Soda would get so frustrated doing his homework he’d run all the way to the playground and sit on the swings until someone came to find him. Dally would always be there, leaning against the post as Soda swung back and forth, and they’d talk about everything and nothing until Soda’s mom would come marching through the park to them, and would tell—not ask—Dally to come home with them for dinner. And he would.

“You’ve got quite a mom. She knows the score.”

Soda knows that if his parents had a say, Dally wouldn’t be living above a glorified bar at seventeen years old. They’d also probably not have gotten hit by that train, but you know, semantics.

“That’s a load of bull. You know exactly why you went.”

“Well, if you’re already so sure, don’t ask stupid questions you know the stupid answers to, Curtis.”

The horse he’s brushing lets out a contented whinny, and Soda treasures it. There is some good still left in the world, he tells himself. There are so many things worth keeping your head up for. Like horses, and brothers, even if they’re tearing you apart.

“For what it’s worth, Dal, my mama really—”

“Why’re you here?”

Straight to the point, then. Soda reaches into his pocket and pulls out his treasure.

“Shit, man, is that a real diamond?”

“It’s worth more than my whole house.”

And it is. His mom’s engagement ring is a family heirloom; Soda doesn’t know how far back it goes, but it’s been in his dad’s family for generations, and somewhere—very far—back, somebody must’ve had some money, because the stone on his mom’s engagement ring might not be very big, but it’s just as real as anything sitting collecting dust in a soc’s jewelry box. It’s the most precious thing their family owns. Soda closes his fist around the ring and holds it against his chest. It is worth more than his whole house. It’s worth everything… to him.

“My brothers want to bury her with it,” Soda says, trying not to let his voice shake. “They wanna put their rings back on them. But I can’t… they promised me I could have them, one day. Not just this one, the wedding rings too, to use however I see fit. But they’re mine and I just can’t let them go like that. I don’t give a damn what Ponyboy or Darrel want, if there’s no Will… they’re mine.”

Soda’s dad proposed to his mother after a few months of dating. It kind of came with the territory of getting a girl knocked up at twenty years old, and they sure didn’t have any kind of dream wedding. His mother and father had a marriage license and a tiny ceremony at the church his father grew up going to, with Grandpa Pat and his dad’s brothers as the only witnesses.

His mom’s family wanted nothing to do with her after they found out she was pregnant. Darry’s never even met any of them, and he’s met basically everybody—partially because most of their extended family who stuck around died before Pony was even born, or at least before Soda can remember. Soda keeps wondering to himself these days if his mom’s family will come to the funeral, or if Darry’s wasting stamps on the invitations.

The wedding rings are cheap and probably not worth much at all, but Soda treasures them with his whole heart because he knows what they meant to his parents.

His dad had come home from work on a bright sunny day in April, and Soda had never heard the word anniversary before, but it made his mama smile when his dad brought it up. He’d brought her flowers and a small box and Soda remembers Ponyboy—two and half years old at the time—was pulling at their mom’s skirt to try to get her attention, but she couldn’t take her eyes off their dad. How Dad had made a whole scene, getting down on one knee. Darry had rolled his eyes and said, “but you’re already married!” as if either of their parents cared.

It wasn’t about that. It was about the gesture. It was about the symbol of their love that they’d gone ten years without, and even if they didn’t need it, it was something they wanted anyway. They were being selfish, but they didn’t care.

In hindsight, Soda thinks that’s the first time he ever realized what true love looks like.

Today, his parents are sitting in a hospital morgue, or maybe a funeral home, or somewhere between—Darry knows the details and Sodapop’s too afraid to ask for specifics—and Soda’s got their rings in his pocket.

And Darry wants to take them from him. The last bit of their parents’ love, and he wants to bury that with their cold, dead bodies. It makes Soda sick.

“Why’d you come to me?” Dallas asks, and this time he’s looking directly at Soda, which is odd, because usually if Dally’s going to help you, he’s at least going to pretend he doesn’t want to. But these days, everyone seems to have lost their minds, so Soda figures it’s just the grief.

“Darry told me to quit bein’ a baby about it. So I am. You’re gonna hide ‘em for me,” Soda says, handing him the rings, “and then we’re gonna go get in a fight, and I’m gonna lie to my brothers.”

Dallas, ever true to himself, doesn’t blink an eye.

---

Soda can’t focus on much of anything, between the feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins, the pounding feeling in his head from being punched right square in the eye, and Dally’s maniacal laughter as he slams the door behind them.

It’s not long before Ponyboy’s leaping up from the couch, crying out, “Who hit ya?!?” and Darry’s stomping through the doorway from the kitchen and demanding to know what the hell happened.

Dally regales Soda’s brothers (and the rest of the gang who seem to have all gathered under their roof just in time for dinner) with a tale that Soda’s sure is only partially accurate to how the rest of their day had gone since they left Buck’s.

It’s the first time any of them have gotten into any sort of trouble since the accident, and to his credit, Ponyboy seems only sort of shaken up at the sight of his brother’s bruised face. He grabs Soda’s hand and leads him into the kitchen, snatches a bag of frozen peas out of the good ol’ ice box and plants it against Soda’s eye.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Ponyboy starts to mutter, but Soda ignores him. He doesn’t want to hear it. He has to focus all his energy right now into lying to Darry—the only person he’s never lied to before. Not even a little fib.

His older brother is his hero and his confidant, and it’s hard to look someone like that in the eye and say anything but the truth. Ponyboy, on the other hand, might be Soda’s closest friend and mean everything to him, but god—sometimes you have to lie to your little brother. You know, about things like Santa Claus, and how many girls you’ve kissed, and that he doesn’t look silly when he tucks his shirt in like that.

It’s for Pony’s own good, really. Besides, the kid backed Darry (something he never does!) on the one thing Soda’s wanted for himself since that horrible night, and it’s not fair they chose that moment to agree on something.

“Soda, I know what those rings mean to you, but I just feel like—”

“Do me a favor and can it, Pony.”

Maybe it’s cruel, and he knows that he’s the only reason Ponyboy’s been getting out of bed in the morning lately, but god, they’re still brothers and he’s still angry, and the guilt of being selfish about this is eating him alive. Sue him for snapping. Their parents are fucking dead. He’ll get it together some other time and spend the rest of his life trying to make up for the look on his little brother’s face now.

He hears Dally in the living room, getting to the part where he says they got jumped—and Soda pushes up from his seat at the kitchen table and calls out: “We didn’t get jumped, we got mugged.”

The whole gang is looking at him now, standing in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the door frame that all the Curtis kids have been measuring their heights on since Grandpa Pat was still in diapers. The whole gang’s marked on there now, too.

It’s not really something anyone talks about, because at the end of the day the result is just the same, but there’s a difference between getting jumped and being mugged. Getting jumped is greasers blowing off steam or socs having fun. Getting mugged is a real crime, somebody dangerous trying to hurt you and take away anything from your wallet to your dignity. It’s something you could actually go to the cops about, because if you word it right, they might even give half a shit. And today Soda’s using that phrasing to get his brothers to believe him. He feels like shit for it. But at least he’s feeling something other than grief.

He’s allowing himself to be selfish after all these years—and an especially hard past thirteen days— of existing solely for others.

“Dal’s just tryna hype me up,” Soda says, and he can feel Pony’s eyes searing into his skin from behind him. “Like he said, he was with me ‘cause I stopped at Buck’s to see the horses before we went to get the rings cleaned. This guy came up when we were walkin’ back, we got in a fight—but he had a heater and you don’t mess around with that.”

Soda has to sell this. He looks at Darry, at his older brother who has just told them a few days earlier how he’s going to sacrifice everything he’s ever worked towards, everything he’s ever held dear or dreamed of, to take care of Sodapop and Ponyboy so they can stay together, and his guilt overtakes him. Suddenly, the tears—familiar as they are—come easily.

“The rings are gone, Dar.”

And Soda gets his way.

---

It doesn’t matter who the father is. Soda has known what true love looks like since he was five years old and his dad asked his mother to remarry him at home in their tiny kitchen while Darry complained they were being ridiculous and that he was going to be late for football practice. He knows how he feels about Sandy and he doesn’t really care what she did. But he knows what he needs to do to try to make things right.

And maybe that’s why he went to Buck’s that day, stomping right past the old cowboy and up to Dally’s room. Maybe that’s why he picked the lock—hanging out with Two-Bit Mathews kinda lends itself towards learning skills like that—and maybe that’s why Dally finds Soda there, when he should be behind the counter at the DX, tearing his friend’s room apart.

“Hey! You got a death wish or somethin’?” Dally yells, and Soda should probably care more, because he’s got a point—you’ve got to have officially lost it to go digging through Dallas Winston’s stuff.

“Where’re the rings?”

“What?”

“The rings, Dal, my parents’ rings, I need them.”

“You need ‘em.”

“Yeah,” Soda says. “I’m gonna marry Sandy.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dally laughs. “Marry her. You are nuts. What’re you doing that for? Don’t you got more to worry about right now?”

“Her parents are makin’ her move to Florida! I oughta make things right, maybe if I do, she’ll stay, you dig?” Soda crosses his arms as he tries to defend himself, and when he notices the look on Soda’s face, Dally’s laughter trails off, like something else has occurred to him.

“…No fuckin’ way, Sodapop Curtis, you did not.”

Dally’s got his signature shit-eating grin spreading across his face, and even with everything going on in the last week, he’s got the nerve to laugh.

“No, I didn’t, and don’t you start judgin’ me, Dallas, ‘cause it ain’t like you didn’t go back to your girl after she did the same damn thing, an’—and Sandy—she…”

Soda’s voice trails off when his eyes land on a navy-blue sweatshirt thrown over the back of Dally’s relatively-unused desk chair.

The sleeves are cut off, just like the tags.

The color drains from Soda’s face. He feels sick.

“You know where they are.”

“The rings? Yeah, yeah, they’re in—”

Soda snatches the sweatshirt off the chair—the one that used to be his, that Ponyboy wears everywhere now that it fits him better, the one that he was wearing on Friday night—and holds it up with two shaking hands.

“Ponyboy was here, wasn’t he? He— where is he, Dally?”

Dally doesn’t answer, just lights another cigarette, and Soda’s lip starts to tremble. His stomach twists. He can’t help it, and he’s been accused of faking it before, to get out of going to school, or because he didn’t want whatever was being made for dinner and he’s picky, or because of a million other reasons. It’s exhausting being the local crybaby when you genuinely can’t help it. When you’re a nearly seventeen-year-old boy and you shouldn’t ever shed a tear over anything but your body can’t seem to get the memo.

Crying is as cathartic for him as fighting is. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to stop, and the thing is, he’s so insanely jealous of people like Johnny Cade, who in all their years of knowing each other Soda’s only ever seen cry once—when those socs beat the living hell out of him—and Dallas, who makes the thought of it seem laughable. Real hard to break the kid who’s beyond broken.

“Don’t fuckin’—hey, Sodapop, don’t you fuckin’ cry, man.”

He tries. He sniffs. Dally groans and presses his palms into his eyes exasperatedly. Soda wipes at his face with his sleeve.

“Can’t help it.”

“Would you just—ugh.” Dally looks around the room, and then walks over to the desk, ripping the drawer open and digging around for something. He throws whatever it is on the desk, and grabs Soda, shoving him into the chair.

“Write him a letter, or some shit. I’ll make sure it gets to him, but I’m only doin’ this once, so make it count, man. I’ll go find those rings for you so you can get the hell out.”

Dally turns on his heel and walks out, and Soda hears him mutter something along the lines of “fuckin’ Crybaby Curtis over here” as he walks out.

Soda reaches for the pen with his right hand, puts it on the paper and prints his brother’s name in shaky chicken scratch. He sniffs again and bites back some tears, switching the pen to his left and getting comfortable.

Well, I guess you got into some trouble, huh?

Dally comes back twenty minutes later and asks if Soda can read his own handwriting.

Doesn’t matter, because he knows Ponyboy can figure it out, backwards letters and all.

Soda heads back home, fidgeting with his parents’ rings in his coat pocket. He daydreams about proposing to Sandy, twirling her around with the sun shining through the kitchen window. She’s supposed to look like an angel. She’s supposed to look like there’s nothing else in the world but the two of them. But in his mind she doesn’t, she won’t meet his eyes, and the kids at the dinner table laughing at them don’t look anything like him.

---

The holidays are coming up. It doesn’t feel like it, not with so many people missing from their lives.

Soda kicks off his sneakers by the door, takes in the sight of his poor little brother, laying back on the couch with cartoons blaring on the television set. Soda figures it could be worse; this time a month ago, he was still in a borderline catatonic state over what happened to their friends, and now he’s got his sketchbook back out. Soda pretends he can’t see the extra attention Pony’s paying to the shape of Johnny’s big, dark eyes and hangs his coat up.

He slips into the kitchen and expects dinner to be getting cold already, since Darry’s getting out early these days due to the weather and lack of light, but instead there’s nothing in there but Darry with his head down on the table.

“You feelin’ alright?” Soda asks, and he goes to feel Darry’s forehead, but his brother just lifts his head, and shakes it.

“I wish Santa Claus was real,” Darry mumbles, and Soda tries to feel his forehead again, ‘cause that’s quite a statement for the almost twenty-one-year-old, and Darry bats his hand away.

“You know what I really wish, Soda? I wish we still had Mom and Dad’s rings. Especially Mom’s engagement ring.”

Soda hopes he doesn’t look as green as he feels.

“You’re the one who wanted to bury them,” he mutters, and he hopes Darry doesn’t see him swallow.

“An’ now I think you had the right idea. I mean, glory, selling that diamond alone could go a long way.” Darry laughs humorlessly.

“I ain’t got a clue how in the hell I’m supposed to get y’all presents this year. We got the hospital bill today, you know. From when Pony got sick after Windrixville, and… I think I can get help from the state for some of it, but it’s cutting it close, Soda. Ain’t gonna be no spending money, even with you helpin’ out. I mean, it’s gonna be so close—with the electric bill, the hot water—”

Soda thinks about the rings, sitting buried in an old shoebox underneath his bed, in his old room just down the hall. He thinks about how horrible he felt last January, looking Darry in the eyes and lying to him, saying he lost part of their parents forever. How that diamond ring, their only real family heirloom, burned a hole in his pocket as he asked Dally to help him keep it safe where his brothers couldn’t take it from him, because you couldn’t trust Dallas Winston for little things but he was always, always good for his word when it came to something that mattered.

Soda’s given everything to his brothers this last year, and maybe he’s given all of himself to everyone his whole life, but today—today he’s still going to be selfish, because he deserves it, just for this one thing.

“The holidays ain’t really about presents, Darrel,” he says, sitting down and putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

“We oughta just be glad we have each other, ‘cause god knows we don’t have much of anything else.”

Except their parents’ rings. But he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to convince himself he deserves this. Even if it makes him sick.

Because his parents loved each other, and they loved him, and they promised.

#sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis #darry curtis #dallas winston #the outsiders #curtis brothers #the outsiders broadway #the outsiders musical #the outsiders book #the outsiders 1983 #this one is honestly much more book canon lol #soda dally friendship my beloved #horse girl soda my beloved #I’m pushing Crybaby Curtis so hard #julie writes stuff #my post

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