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#french i was a bit like oh no i'm gonna get an a- in the end of term exams which will make my final over grade an a- which nooooo
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tht time of the semester where we start anxietying abt potential final grades n doing calculations to see how many more grades we need to pass welp
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miirohs · 2 months
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world burning [c.l.c]
pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: someone is literally shot, charles kisses reader a bit forcefully an: to the anon who said they'd sell me their soul my cashapp is @bestfanficwriterever (jk jk, i hope that anon sees this tho). Real reminder to you all, again, that non of this stuff is to be encouraged irl and this is all meant as a fictional scenario!
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“Charlie?”
You could hear him softly cursing in French on the other line, whispering as the bed creaked in the background. It was obvious he had just woken up, and you felt terrible for waking him as well, knowing the day he probably had.
“Qu'est-ce qu'il y a, tu ferais mieux d'avoir une bonne raison de me réveiller (what's the matter, you'd better have a good reason for waking me up)-”
“Charles, I've been arrested, I need someone to come get me.” 
The muttering stopped, grogginess disappearing from his voice almost instantly. “Y/n? Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé bon sang chéri (y/n? what the hell happened darling)?”
“Charles, not now please,” You chastised softly, looking to the door as the guards quietly conversed among themselves outside the room, “I have no idea why this is happening and what they’re gonna do to me.” “How did you even manage to get arrested… Nevermind that, I just hope you haven’t answered anything they've asked of you.” He groaned, heavy thumping over the phone as you looked nervously at the door for any indication they’d been listening to your conversation.
“I’m not that dull,” You said quietly, looking down at your lap, “and it couldn't have been anything i did, all they did was seize the car from me in the lot and bring me here.”
He paused for a moment, silent over the line. You pressed the phone against your ear, straining for any sounds on the other side of the line.
“Stay put. I’m coming to get you.”
A shiver ran down your spine and you fumbled, tripping over your words in a hurry to get them out.
“Char, what are you planning on doing?”
He laughed humorlessly over the phone, the sound of keys jingling and door slamming making you jump back from the phone as if it’d grown a head.
“Exactly what I said I'm going to do, come and pick you up.”
You swallowed the thick ball that’d formed in your throat.
“You know what- never mind, send someone else in your place, maybe Carlos?” You bargained, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“Pas de souci, mon amour. Je ne fais que commencer (no worries, my love. I'm just getting started). They should’ve learned not to fuck with the wrong person. I’ll be there in another 20 minutes, you won’t need to call anyone else.”
You shivered as the line went dead, looking at the now opened door, all the cops watching you with a suspicious look.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
All you could do was shake your head.
Not even a grand total of 15 minutes later, a shouting match erupted, followed by loud bangs.
There was a single person you could think of who was capable of this level of chaos, and you could have swore you’d heard him threatening the cops right now.
“Where is she?”
“Sir-”
“Don’t sir me, where the hell is she? Don’t tell me I have to blow another head off just for you to tell me.”
Everything seemed to fall silent for a couple moments, only a few voices daring to make a sound.
“Char?” You called out, a couple beats of silence weighing you down.
The sound of footsteps only got louder, stopping in front of the room you were in.
Keys jangled, the door slamming open as Charles walked in, a couple of police tailing him timidly to the outside of the door.
There were dark stains on his otherwise clean shirt, an indication of what happened visible in the peeved look on his face. Your eyes slowly trailed to his hand, a gun held tightly in his grip, smoking oh so slightly.
Noticing how your attention had drifted to the weapon, he put it down on the other side of the table as he approached you, shrugging off his jacket as he approached you.
“Tu vas bien maintenant (you're all right now),” He said quietly, running his fingers through your hair as he pulled you to him, “Come on, we’re going home.” 
You clutched his arm as he stood you up, eyes glued to the floor as you walked next to him.
You could hear their disappointed exhales, tinged with a bit of surprise as Charles kept a firm grip on your back, guiding you through the long hall to the main office.
As you continued to walk, he gently stopped you, turning around in the middle of the room as someone called for him.
“Fucks sake,” He sighed, turning around.
“Sir, i believe there has been a mistake-”
“What sort of mistake do you think you’ve made?” He snarled, his hand running down to your hand, lacing his fingers into yours.
“You see, the car we identified was yours and we thought that perhaps she’d stole it-”
“And you didn’t think to call me so I could deal with them myself?” He chuckled humorlessly, pulling you to his side. You held your breath, completely aware of what was about to happen.
“Charles, no-”
He shook his head at you, basically telling you to not interfere. You obliged, eyebrows creasing as you watch the poor man who had tried to explain himself get shoved to his knees.
“First off, you interrupt my very precious time, and then you have the audacity to say that you’ve made a mistake?” He stands back, waving at someone behind him to step forward to his side with a gun. “Do you know who she is?”
The man stumbled over his words, trying to plead for his life, but you already knew it was too late.
“Since you don’t seem to know, let me tell you. She’s the last face you’ll be seeing but since she’s here, I've decided to spare the rest of you for the time being. If I ever hear of anything happening to her again, anyone in this room will not be spared like they were today.” He remarked bemusedly, turning to you with the widest grin you’d ever seen from him.
“Chéri, close your eyes, and cover your ears as well.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. The second you did, there was a bang, followed by a thumping sound.
Something warm was on your face, but you didn’t dare open your eyes, shaky hands coming off your ears to touch your face.
“Don’t.” He was closer than you thought, causing you to jump as he rubbed what you assumed was a handkerchief against your face . “Don’t say anything, don’t look, just follow me.” 
You cracked open an eye, briefly wandering to the pool of blood a couple of feet away from you.
“What did I just tell you?” He remarked, barking at the rest in rapid french as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the doors of the station.
There was an awkward silence as you lumbered into the passenger side seat, pressing yourself against the seat as he pulled out and onto the road.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” He muttered, hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh.
“I thought you’d be upset with me.” You looked down, noticing the dried blood on his hands, not that it made much of a difference to you anymore. Less than two years ago, you would have been horrified at the idea of blood within six feet of you, but you had come to accept it as a part of him you could never erase.
“No-” He punched the brakes, eyes slightly apologetic as you jumped from the sudden shock of stopping.
“No, no, Y/n, look at me,” His hand left your thigh, fingers curling around your chin and pulling your face to his, “You are not responsible for any of that, i gave you the car, remember? You are not to blame yourself because I would gladly do anything for you.”
“Char-” You whined, muffled slightly by the pressure of his fingers against your cheeks.
“I would give you the world to see you happy, so shut up and take it.” He pressed his lips harshly against yours, almost needy in the way he nipped at your bottom. Warmth seemed to stir inside you as he let you go, your own mind racing at a million miles per hour as he returned to the wheel as if nothing had happened.
However, under his breath, he muttered something that even escaped you as your thoughts drifted off elsewhere. “Le monde brûlera, si tu le veux ma chérie, je te le promets (the world will burn, if you want it to my darling, I promise).”
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boiohboii · 1 year
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What's a soft launch? (Lando Norris x Leclerc! Reader)
YN Leclerc is dating Lando Norris in secret, and they had been keeping it really quite for the past 9 months, but unfortunately she is dating an idiot who forgot to close his stream.
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in which YN Leclerc and Lando Norris make everyone watching his stream need to bleach their eyes.
N.B: this is something for fun and has no relation to real life people. Also, I'll be doing a sm fic based on this cause a meme picture is what started this for me.
WARNING: suggestive, no actual smut. Making out. PDA cause lando forgot to close his stream. Mentions of breast, nipple and bra. French not used properly?... if i missed anything else let me know!
Sighing, Lando stretched his back while calling for his girlfriend- letting her know that it's okay to come in.
"Hey handsome."
username: is that who I think it is!
username: ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE
username: someone call 911 lando no rizz pulled YN Leclerc
username: I want yn to call me handsome too
Unaware of the fast chat the couple smiled at each other as YN sat on Lando's lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, wrists staying still at the nape of his neck while her fingers play with the soft curls of his hair.
"Hello ma chérie."
And that's all the older boy got to say as the young girl latched her lips onto his, tightening her grip around his neck while his arms rest at her hips, squeezing them as he lifts her up a bit trying to reach as much of her as possible.
username: AY YOOOOOO someone tell my man he is live and we can see that
username: THE GRIP HE HAS ON MY GIRL
username: ooofffff, Lando's funeral is gonna be tomorrow my dudes
username: F in the chat for lando
username: F in the chat for charles, he having a heart attack rn
username: my girl gonna wake up with bruises
Breaking away to catch their breath Lando's hand caressed her hips, moving until they rested on her ass
"Ohhhh, okay, are we going there."
"I don't know gorgeous, are we?"
Shifting around in the chair, Lano placed his back to the arm of the chair moving YN in front of him- unknowingly, making the viewers have a perfect view of their interlocking lips which were quickly followed by a gasp from YN as Lando pressed his hips into hers- thus allowing a perfect entrance of his tongue into her mouth.
username: OKAY THIS IS A FULL MAKE OUT SESSION.
username: LANDO IS DYING AT 25 MY DUDES
username: FFS SOMEONE CALL THEM OR SEND A SUB OR SOMETHING, WE DON'T WANT LANDO TO DIE
username: Holy shit, YN have mercy on your brothers
username: how to be Lando rn
username: THIS FEELS SO WRONG, THEY LITERALY HAVE THEIR TONGUES DOWN EACH OTHER'S THROATS
username: please lord, let Lando still be able to have kids after seeing the Leclerc brothers
Being interrupted by her ringtone did not deter the couple from their steamy activity, in fact it was like they didn't even hear it as Lando's right hand slipped into the girl's shirt roaming around her stomach as it rested in her breast.
Another ringtone...... Lando's left hand made its way to her bra's clasp, opening it with swiftness that made it evident it had not been the first time he had done that.
The way their tongues moved and their arms explored places they were already familiar with only comes with expirence. A lot of experience.
As the ringtone got repeated for the third time, Lando decided to slow down, removing his lips from hers while his right hand pushed her bra downward a bit, making him feel her hard nipple under his fingertips.
Moving her left arm from around his neck while balancing herself with her right arm, YN reached into her back pocket getting her phone out.
"Oh, it's Danny"
The cheerful voice of the girl filles the room
username: of thank god!
username: FINALLY
username: Lando, you will be missed
username: this has been the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life
username: I wasn't even doing anything and I'm out of breath
Answering the phone YN couldn't even get a word out before Daniel is screaming into her ear
"IT'S LIVE! YOU'RE FUCKING LIVE."
Snapping her head towards her boyfriend's set up, she quickly balanced the phone in between her ear and her shoulder while removing his hand from under her shirt, tipping as she attempted to close the live while holding her bra in place as much as possible.
"What? What's wrong?" Upon seeing his girlfriend's frantic behaviour Lando became alert, worried something might be wrong.
"YOU DIDN'T CLOSE THE LIVE!"
"WHAT!!"
In a hurry to get up from his position and close the stream he tripped over his own feet just as his hands reached the desk, and as an attempt to save himself from the fall he gripped the first thing within his reach- his keyboard and his mic- making them fall right on his head.
The sudden scream of Lando's and the quite comical fall (in YN's opinion) made her forget about the older man on her phone and about the entire issue. The only thing she did was double over in laughter that within seconds turned into a sound similar to that of a car's windshield wiper.
"Oh, I'm glad my pain is amusing you."
username: this is the best stream of my entire fucking life man
username: I have no idea what is going on, but I love it
username: this is hilarious.
SOCIAL MEDIA REACTIONS
THE BROTHERS' REACTIONS
THE FAMILY DINNER
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itostea · 6 months
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rings (gojo x wife! reader)
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in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring
warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if i’m missing anyone for the tag list
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There’s a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the building–some of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee. 
Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an “underground” location–a phrase that you would’ve not expected her to use. Correctly at that. 
“How are you doing with that idiot,” your other friend, Shoko asks. “Do you guys still sleep in separate rooms?”
You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. “There's a ‘no smoking policy’ here. And to answer your question, no we’re not. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.”
“On the same bed?”
“Yes?”
“And that’s it?” She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes away–taking another sip of her black coffee. “Nothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissing–”
“Yes that’s it! Keep it down here,” you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.
Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee–this time narrowing her eyes at you. “So why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Yes you are,” she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. They’ve always been so sharp. “Something’s bothering you so tell us.”
You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. You’re avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s stupid.”
“We’re not gonna judge you,” Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.
“Okay,” you start. “Something feels like it’s missing. Not that it’s ‘Toru–”
“You call him ‘Toru?” Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. “Continue.”
“There's nothing wrong with ‘Toru and I feel like I’m expecting something from him. We’re making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,” you pause. “I guess I’m just wondering when he’s gonna give me a ring…”
They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. “There’s no way that idiot’s that stupid.”
“But that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,” Shoko adds. “So? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?”
“That’s not really my way of doing things…”
Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. “Things would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,” she says, holding a hand up when you’re about to respond. “But I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.”
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You replay your friend’s words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlessly–throwing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, you’ve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.
Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usual–not that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. “Oh? What’s this?”
You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. “I’m making dinner for us since we haven’t been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.”
“Well, aren't I a lucky guy?” He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. “You mind if I take a shower first? I promise it’ll be quick.”
“Your shower’s are never quick,” you comment, giggling at how he acts as if he’s been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited. 
By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low “hello” as if somewhat shy. 
You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgust–feeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. “Is it good?” 
“So good,” he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at you–the same grin that makes you feel warm inside. “My wife’s so talented.”
“It’s just curry rice,” you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize you’ve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food. 
The conversation takes off naturally. He’s asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. It’s all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. “Listen (Name),” his voice is lower, nervous. “I know I should've done this before but it really didn’t cross my mind…”
Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If he’s this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? You’re already answering before he can finish. “Yes.”
He blinks, peering directly at you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table. 
He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wow I didn’t know you liked Netflix so much.”
All of a sudden, the delusions you’ve been building up topple like dominos. Your voice’s stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. “Huh?”
“I was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.”
“Y-Your Netflix account?” You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey. 
It was Gojo’s turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. “That’s what we’re talking about right?”
Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. “Yeah! I love Netflix…”
You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at you–gulping as if hiding a secret of his own. 
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“I want to give you something,” your husband’s voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch. 
He smells good, you think to yourself–earthy and fresh. It’s faint yet it’s enough to make you dizzy. “Something?”
“That’s right,” he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.
Yet, instead of a small, round object, you’re faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. “I can’t take this!” 
You’re left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. “Why not…?”
“Because I just can’t!” 
“But you’re my wife and I wanna spoil you,” he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly. 
“I can’t ‘Toru–”
“Yes you can,” he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you would’ve found funny if he didn’t just hand you his card. “Trust me on this one. You’ll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?”
You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyes–his mind piecing things together. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. “Just take it. Please?”
You think he’s doing it on purpose–the way he looks at you as if you’re a diamond among rocks. It’s hard not to say no when someone looks at you like that–harder when it’s Gojo. You sigh. “Fine. But I’m not gonna use it often.”
He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. “That’s my girl.”
You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomach’s doing somersaults as well
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It’s early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojo–the sun barely awake just as you were. There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.
You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing. 
You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your senses–luring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheek–try not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart. 
His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. “I’ll be back home by dinner today. I promise.”
Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your finger–your ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave. 
It hits you a bit later than you’d expect and you would’ve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts. 
“Toru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!” 
And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.
tags:
@maliamaiden, @dookiemeshibear, @icarusignite, @padsgrlly, @katiaesmeralda, @mooncleaver, @jcrml, @istanuwow, @stilinskispjo, @hjjjbb, @delulusuga, @hellogoog, @scrumdillyyumyumpurr, @wordskeeper, @rampagingroses, @demiwizardvampire145, @haikyuusimpsblog, @esmeensheep, @msunknown911, @saebeary, @mysuperrainbow, @scarletevening, @tedbunny333, @tulips-ss, @primapoppy, @realboysrdumb, @ems-tumbo, @a-cloudy-dreamy-day, @evalynanne, @kaiisers, @trisisbasic, @luna0713hunter, @arisucat, @honili, @dovahkiinsbitch, @porridgesblog, @siennahsteaparty, @dee-dreams-and-stuff, @satoruskitchenrag, @moonmalice, @junglewoos, @thisbicc, @heartsoji, @mysticmyth, @phoenixforgotten, @sillygoosegoose, @the-mad-hatress, @kairuthewriter, @batmansleftfoot
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arminsumi · 9 months
Note
can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)
love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗
AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟
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NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well <3
🔞 mdni / 18+ content
SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.
WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship
SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am
Wordcount ≈ 2.3k
Playme ♪ wet dreamz
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.
Where are my hands supposed to go?
He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.
This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.
All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.
Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.
But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.
He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.
The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.
How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.
Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”
“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.
His stomach flipped.
“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.
Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.
“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.
You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.
“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.
“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.
“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.
He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.
“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.
He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.
But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.
And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.
“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.
His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.
“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.
“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.
His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.
“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”
He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”
Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally
“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”
Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.
“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.
So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”
You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.
“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.
You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.
“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”
His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.
When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.
“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.
To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.
But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.
“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.
“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.
Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.
You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?
“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.
“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”
He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.
“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.
“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.
“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.
“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.
“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.
You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.
Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.
Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.
“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.
“Fuck.” You agreed.
“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”
“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.
“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”
You laughed with him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.
“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”
“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.
“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”
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2K notes · View notes
iznsfw · 10 months
Text
Drunken
Loossemble's Son Hyeju x Male Reader Smut
19,012 words
Categories | cheating, longtimecrush!Hyeju, mutual feelings, drunk sex, daddy kink (and daddy issues), fingering, squirting, titfucking, anal, choking
Thank you for commissioning! Researched for the fic, ended up falling in love with Son Hyeju. Please give this a chance and read this for the story, too, and not only the smut. I indulged too much in this.
The relationship Hyeju and OC have is very much inspired by the one Cassy and Rob have in In the Woods by Tana French. Read it, please. Was amazing. The story was also written with someone I'm currently so in love with in mind, but we're not going to talk about that here.
And no, there's never enough daddy kink stories :P
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“This is not fair,” the two of you say the very second you step into your shared dorm.
Two papers in two hands of two people that show two scores that aren’t up to par for the two’s standards. You and Hyeju were always meant to be a dynamic duo: peas in a pod in every way possible, and that includes academic success and failure. It’s like there’s a kind of telepathic force between you that sends the other down with you, too. It’s too late to try and cut the connection when you’ve known Hyeju all your life, a wish that’s beyond reality for plenty of the boys at Idalso.
The dorm is clean. Mostly. You’ve done your best to tidy up the pile of clothes at the end of Hyeju’s bunk bed and she’s done the same for the relatively empty bags of chips you haven’t stopped the habit of laying around, but there’s still the telltale signs that if Hyeju isn’t organized, you aren’t either. Printed drafts of your thesis lay crumpled on the floor. Her posters are minutes away from falling off the poorly painted walls. The air-conditioner doesn’t work as well as it did in your freshman year when your rowdiness outdoors—knocking into each other, trying to race to the door and ending up messing up the other’s clothes that were ironed in a rush—isn’t as compensating.
Today, the rowdiness is lost. It gets translated into rough groans that follow you on the way to the dorms.
That’s when you realize it.
You and Hyeju look at each other. Both of your pairs of eyes widen.
“Miss Ha failed your test?” she asks, normally bored pupils widening in disbelief.
“Miss Ha failed my test.”
“No erasure rule?”
“No erasure rule.”
“Oh my god.”
“Oh my god.”
Ball up the paper and shoot it in the air. It adds to the numerous pieces of parchment on the floor. You kick the rest of them in the air while your roommate slumps on her bed and groans. 
“Fuck this,” you say, hands on your head. There comes the urge to tear all your hair out and leave it at that damned professor’s door, blood and all, to make her at least feel a miniscule bit of remorse for failing you. You didn’t deserve that. You studied and studied and she still had to implement that stupid rule.
Hyeju catches a wrinkled and crumpled paper globe. Her sui generis lips release a soft sigh. “At least we have thesis confetti,” she says sullenly.
“I’m dropping out,” you declare. You’re surprised at how serious you sound. Normally you’d say it just to get a laugh out of yourself, but now you’re actually considering doing it. 
“If you drop out, I’m dropping out, too,” she answers, looking at you spitefully. “And then who’s going to take care of Daniel?”
Think of Daniel. He isn’t your roommate but he’s gotten close with you and Hyeju the past few years. “His inheritance is what’s gonna take care of him. Did you forget he’s rich as shit?”
“Oh, right. How could I forget about him?” 
You start picking up the papers of your drafts faster and knocking them harder into the wall. Why are you doing that? Nope, don’t have an answer to that. There’s a fiery rage inside you that Hyeju’s latest sentence is the arsonist of. 
“The fuck are you doing?” she asks in amusement. There’s a hint of disgust on her face. “Calm down. What’re you, my dad or something?”
“S-sorry.” You know the whole deal she has with her dad. You have to stop—thus, drop the balls of papyrus from your hand. “It was just… I don’t know why I did that.”
Maybe you do. Can’t be about the test though it’s why you started throwing a thesis tantrum.
“Chill out, dude.” She pats your shoulder and gives you a pouty look. “If you want to play strict dad with me: no, I don’t like Daniel. If I did, I would have sat on his lap and said,” she assumes a high voice and flutters her eyelashes at you, leaning on your side, “‘Let me help you with that, darling. I’ll do the dishes, too! Or maybe you want to put a baby in me while I squeeze the soap on your di—’”
“Stoooop!” 
Throw a pillow at her. She dodges it and sticks her tongue out at you. Oh yeah. How could you forget that she plays dodgeball with the friend who’s taken up the topic of your conversation? 
Oh god, shouldn’t have reminded yourself that Hyeju and your other friend hang out. You’re feeling weird again.
“Earth to daddy, Earth to daddy,” she says, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Li’l shit, what’s gotten into you?”
You’re feeling something again. It creeps into your heart and tugs at its strings, just like how your roommate loves to tie knots in yours and watch you struggle around trying to walk with them. That’s how it felt when she called you that. It’s not the first time she took on a roleplaying banter with you yet that specific title has you hot. 
You need to take a walk. Take a walk to somewhere that doesn’t have you in a place where you could easily pin Son fucking Hyeju to the wall and kiss her till the heat subsides.
-
Walking is your only exercise. You care not for the gyms and weights—why pressure yourself with those when you could just go for a simple walk? An hour is already sufficient enough to burn the breakfast. Only downside is that you get quite hungry afterwards, and though you don’t care for counting calories either, you’re pretty sure the food you have after your strolls is more than the amount you burned.
Actually, you could think of another downside: Hyeju doesn’t join you. She’s a homebody. A couch potato. A living pillow. She prefers to lounge at the dorm and play games instead of going out. She rarely comes along, which is why you’re guaranteed a few hours of isolation.
When you take into consideration that it isn’t isolation if tentative feelings accompany you, you’re partly glad Hyeju didn’t come along.
“Hey, is that you?”
You smile. There he is. You always pass by the apartments this time, and the old man who owns it is one of the few people you’re fond of. Being friends with a landlord wasn’t on your college bingo card, but you’re glad it happened. He’s kind, has white hair that almost matches the color of the spaces he owns, and a mouth that can simultaneously be like that of a sailor’s and a doting grandfather.
“Hi, mister Kim.”
“Hi there yourself,” he chirps. His smile is bright. Can’t say the same about the flickering bulb back in your dorm. “Where’s your girlfriend?”
Red colors your cheeks. “Hyeju’s not my girlfriend.”
“Never said she was.” He winks.
The explosion of scarlet first starts at your ears. He got you. But it isn’t exactly you to blame—everyone likes to push you and your girl best friend together. The old man knows what he’s doing. He just likes to toy around with you. 
“Mister Kim, don’t be like that,” you say. Scratch the back of your neck.
“I’ll be however the hell I want,” he replies, crossing his arms t in a friendly stance. “You two’re always glued to each other.”
“We’re just friends, sir.”
“Just friends my ass. Whenever that girl visits me, she’s always talking about you. It’s like you’re the only thing on her mind.”
That revelation was so out of nowhere, yet you welcome it. You like knowing that Hyeju, the girl you adore, adores you just as much. It’s the mutual feeling of fondness that keeps you breathing. 
“T-that doesn’t mean anything,” you say humbly. You’re somewhat right—just because Hyeju hides the truth that she drones on about you doesn’t mean she has a crush on you. You’ve seen and met her exes, and even back then they’re miles more charming than you.
“Wanna bet?”
“I’m broke—”
“No, no. Not in that way.” He shakes his head. “If you and Hyeju actually end up together, I’m letting you live in one of my apartments for free.”
“Mister Kim—”
“Think about it for your old man, will you?”
With that, he shows you a knowing smile and turns his back. Nothing more is said.
-
Just so it’s clear for everyone who comes across this story of yours: you don’t love Son Hyeju.
Anyone and everyone says the opposite. They treat you and her like famed characters on a popular teen show, pairing you up with each other and tearing off all hesitancy about thinking that they might be going too far. 
But now you’re here to make a stand against those falsehoods: contrary to popular belief, Son Hyeju isn’t the love of your life, and although you’ve been friends for so long people’d expect you walked into kindergarten class with your hand in hers, it’s completely platonic between the two of you.
There are no feelings. No speck of a disgusting yearning in your hearts despite the late night stroll you had to take to stop your wistful thoughts. No sir. Hyeju doesn’t love you that way, and neither do you. It’s simple.
Doesn’t seem that simple when you wake up in the dorm with what’s supposed to be a groan that folds itself back down your throat when you see her curled up in the other bed, blankets splayed and curled around her. No makeup on, except for lip balm she smears around her triangle-shaped mouth when they get chapped. No care for how she looks in the air (doesn’t matter when that’s the way you like it, the way she likes it). She lies there with slumber that could only be induced by an unmerciful college.
You’re glad you have her while you’re battered by the same cause of her sleep.
You try to be silent but her eyes open anyway. Her eyes are squinted, and she kind of looks like an emoticon as she pers around. She doesn’t know when or where she is. Grin because neither do you sometimes, but now that you hold that knowledge, you share it with her.
“Earth to Hyeju, Earth to Hyeju.” Echo her words from last night and resound them back to her.
“Earth?” she groans. “Wake me up when Idalso sends me to Mars.”
Yeah, that’s the Hyeju you know. The Hyeju you love. 
(Huh? Where did that come from?)
“I’ll go with you. Could use miss Jeong not trying to kill me.”
Hyeju runs a hand through her hair groggily and smiles sweetly. “Maybe she should come along and go through with killing you if you don’t stop ‘forgetting’ to pay me that five thousand.”
“Cute. I’ll pay you later, I promise.” Rise to sling the blinds up, letting light five-thirty a.m. sun spill through the squares. “Catch some breakfast at McDonald’s before class?” you offer. She’s your usual companion in the morning—you’d split the bill (because “you’re broke, and I’m broke,” she said, “it’s only fair we try to stop being poor together”) and have a nice opening meal of egg and chicken nuggets.
“Sweetie, it’s Saturday today,” she reminds you. “Don’t you remember?” She looks up from her phone and smiles at you condescendingly, as if she knew how that friendly nickname causes your system to shut down. 
You try not to show it. Try not to make it obvious that you turned your head to hide the fact that you were flustered. The fact that despite being only friends with her your chest still tightens at her casual pet names for you, like what she called you last night as well. It’s what friends do: joke with each other, call them unflattering names one second then sweet ones the next. The dorm has enough fans to keep the air circulated, and the sweat you broke last night is gone. So if that’s that, why do you feel so warm right now?
You wonder if Hyeju also feels the same heat in her stomach when you say, “Grandpa can’t remember things well anymore, darling. You’ve got to cut him some slack.”
“Wow, okay. That’s one way to put it, I guess.”
It’s lucky that it’s still dark enough for your red ears to be invisible. You hate it when you mess up your laid-back persona in front of Hyeju, the one you put up whenever you engage in these playful arguments. “Look,” you say, “do you want to get McDonald’s or not?”
“Can’t. Won’t. Shan’t. Too lazy.”
Your heart sinks. “Fine, I’ll just go to a café then. Still have that thesis to do.”
Hyeju lays back into the bed and shuts her eyes. She’s learned that when there’s a chance to sleep, she should take it. To you, it doesn’t look like she’ll let go of this one, even if rejecting it means eating together with you. 
You put on a coat and some shoes, then turn away. Fine, let her be like that. What did you even expect? You can’t be her only priority in life. Sleep, of course, and rest should come first, especially if you’re a college student. You have to brush the hurt creeping in your heart and do your own thing, just like you’d let her do hers.
Don’t catch her eyes opening and lingering on you. Your back is turned and therefore doesn’t let you see it. But if only you did, you wouldn’t have been doubtful about your future concerns, all related to her.
-
This is a different story though. This isn’t a love story—if anything, it’s how a love story ends.
-
Just so it’s clear for everyone who comes across this story of yours: you don’t love Son Hyeju.
Yes, it bears repeating. Sometimes you need to say it again to convince yourself. Convince yourself that you’re not constantly in lectures wishing that it was her beside you instead of your groupmate. Convince yourself that your soul doesn’t shatter in pieces when she refuses to join you in anything. 
Maybe you just need someone to talk it out with. Yes, that’s right. The whimsical yearning in your heart isn’t for Hyeju. You swear on it.
Oh, but you’ve never been very good at that.
“What’s going on? I came as quick as I could,” says Daniel. Yeah, that’s his name. It’s a common name that sounds foreign and unique, especially since he’s a transfer student who came from the U.S.. He has pale skin and brown eyes that are as kind as he is. You like him—he’s the only one you bother bearing besides Hyeju.
But this isn’t about her. You need to let go of her. What? “Let go of her”? Why do you think about her like you two were actually a thing?
“Nothing. Just… feelings.”
“Something happened?” He sits down and looks around confusedly. “Wait, where’s Hyeju?”
“That’s the thing,” you say as you smile tightly. “She’s what happened.”
Daniel’s not stupid. And even if we say that he was, he’s been your friend for two years. It’s short in comparison to your time with Hyeju, you know, but it remains impressive. You don’t have that many friends besides them. That, of course, eventually led to Hyeju and Daniel becoming friends with each other. That’s the reason for him catching your drift—he knows you like the back of his hand.
You order the third cheapest option on the list: an iced latte. Your friend opts for a croissant and some tea, something that reminds you that he isn’t actually from Korea. You often forget that when his Korean is more fluent than a native’s and he gels with other people so quickly. He’s an easy-going guy with everything flowing well for him.
“Let me guess: she did something?” he asks. Alright, close enough. His fingers drum a steady rhythm on the table while yours do so on your laptop keyboard.
“Yeah.” Shake your head immediately and contradictingly. What are you saying? “No. Yeah, probably. But I think it’s my fault.”
No, it isn’t a mere probability of it being your fault. It is your fault. Why are you placing expectations on Hyeju to show up for you? It isn’t on her that you get hurt when she doesn’t have the time or willpower to come along with you. So, why are you even bothering to talk about this? You should let this matter slide. Brush it under the carpet. Rewrite the news headlines. Whatever.
“Ah, couple’s quarrels,” Daniel says teasingly. He thanks the waiter for his croissant then takes a healthy bite into it. “Out of the honeymoon phase already?”
Should you be delighted that people think that she’s yours and you’re hers? You’re split between these two emotions—choose to be frustrated instead.
“Why does everybody think that we’re a couple?” 
“Well.” Your friend twirls his teaspoon into the dainty cup. Drill your eyes on it. The café is simple and affordable to eat from, but the furniture and aesthetic make you think of it as a fancier place to eat it. “You’re always together.”
“That’s all?”
“Let me finish. When some guy has the balls to ask her out, she says she has a boyfriend. She shows him your profile and number. She goes, ‘My boyfriend wouldn’t be too happy about that.’”
The latte somehow doesn’t finish its journey through the straw. “She does?”
You’re split between two thoughts to go by again. You should be happy that your friend, a friend who’s a girl moreover (never confuse a friend who’s a girl with a girlfriend—ever), feels safe enough with you to refer to you as someone who’d protect her, whether from creeps or the aggressive dogs that patrol your college grounds. It takes real trust to call a guy who’s a friend (again, avoid the confusion) your boyfriend when the time requires it. This means she trusts you to come to her if she needs saving from an odd guy or an escape out of situations.
But at the same time, you wonder if that’s what you really are to her, what you’ll only ever be to her: a fake boyfriend. The guy friend who doesn’t mind being called a boyfriend because he knows his low place in her heart. Does Hyeju even look at you as someone who’s not just an acquaintance?
“Yeah,” Daniel says matter-of-factly. “She really likes having you around.”
You don’t need to think about it when you reply, softly: “I do, too.”
The two of you sit in silence you don’t know the source of. Daniel stops eating suddenly. Similarly, all the appetite is lost and you have to put your plastic cup of latte down before you throw it at the wall and ruin the dining experience for everyone else. No, this is your problem. You should deal with it before dragging anyone into it.
“So, why did you call me? What is it about Hyeju?”
Ah, what are you thinking? Daniel shouldn’t even be here. Why did you even call him over? You did and now you don’t know why you suddenly want to throw the contents of your plastic cup into his face. If you give in, you’d be feeding into the delusion that he’s the one standing between you and Hyeju. 
That only leads to the second question of the day:
Why do you suddenly hate Daniel? Daniel is a nice guy. He doesn’t even make a move on her or disrespect her. 
You don’t like these feelings. It’s causing you to think all sorts of nonsense about everybody else, not excluding Daniel, who hasn’t done anything wrong. 
“I…” Sigh. This is the second time you’re finding an escape route so that you could be alone with your feelings. “I have to think about it. I need some time alone.”
“Oh, sure. Sorry about that.”
Hate how more guilt washes over your heart. See here, he doesn’t even protest or say something that might even be right, like tell you how you called him to come over in the first place or how there isn’t a good reason why he should leave. He simply wraps his croissant with a plastic he asked for at the counter and leaves, tea and all.
Great. Now you’re alone, like you usually are and always will be. Attempt to use it as a pro and work on your thesis. Type it all down on a Word document. Wait patiently, as you learned to, as your old laptop stops for the suffering you’ve caused it with the extra storage taken up by assignments. Contact your groupmates. Remind them to do their jobs.
It’s all going so well. That’s when she pulls up to the cafe you’ve been writing at with her hands perched on the wooden surface of your table, with the smirk that doesn’t ever leave without making sure it’s her certified look featured on her lips.
No need to mention names when there's only one girl who could make your world stop spinning.
You can’t stop staring, and it’s not even because she turned up out of nowhere. You’re always in a state of shock when Hyeju is around.
She never allows her hair to be restrained in a tight tail, so there she is with those luscious black locks spilling all over her shoulders. How she manages to look so cool and be the very person everyone wishes to be while having those soft cheeks only the evillest of people wouldn’t pinch you don’t know. Son Hyeju is cool and cute at the same time, somehow balancing those everyday without effort.
But you don’t love her. Just to remind everyone once again. No matter what happens, you have no feelings for her. And that’s that.
"Hey," she says, putting her weight on one arm. Then she curves down her head to peer at your screen. "Whatchu doin'?"
Immediately slam your laptop shut and look at her with annoyed eyes. Oh, why do you even try? You could never despise her. You could pray to god all night and day for you to hate Hyeju, to hate her to the ends of the Earth just to banish these strange feelings, and he wouldn't give in. Crazier and crazier her antics shall get and you'd remain loyal to her.
And that's all because she's a good friend. That's everything there is to it. 
Wait. Who are you convincing again?
"Oh, come on. Smile a little, pretty boy." Hyeju places a finger on one edge of your mouth then pulls it upwards. "There you go. Suh-miiile—"
Pretty boy. She called me a pretty boy.
"You p-plan on getting off the table or what?" you say.
People are staring at you and Hyeju but that isn't what's making you blush. What's gotten into you? You can't tell yourself it's because of her simply because it isn't because of her. Hyeju has as much effect on you as a cup of coffee.
(You thrive off caffeine, by the way, but that's not the point.)
"Sure. No. Uh… probably?" She looks up at the ceiling as if she's figuring something out, then clicks her tongue when she does. "Yep, nah."
Groan. 
Secretly, confessed only in the deepest corners of your mind, you like people paying attention to you and Hyeju. It’s not much about the attention itself but the way it makes them think that the two of you must be really close. Like, really really close. The kind that makes those who want Hyeju rush to her only to be met in the face with a barrier: you. They can’t have her because you do.
Not in that way, of course, but it still means something. If she has you, nobody else could, and if you have her, more so.
"Son Hyeju,” you say, fighting back the smile on your face as she ruffles your hair, “I swear to god—"
"Oh, please," says Hyeju, leaning forward with narrowed eyes and a wicked smile, "spare me, oppa. Spare me the blasphemy—"
That's enough from her, you think. Your hands dive for her waist. Pull her down onto your lap. Your thighs soften the blow and also play the role of a launch pad as one kick sends Hyeju in the air. More chances to tickle her come along with it. Okay, that bit about the lap was wholly unintentional, and you'll swear to god again for that. 
What isn't unintended though is the tickling you do on Hyeju's midriff and arms. It helps that she's so sensitive—soon she's laughing boisterously, struggling in your lap with her head upturned and triangle-shaped mouth letting out unkempt guffaws. She nearly kicks the two of you out of the café seat.
"Dude, you are such a loser, stop!" she laughs, still winding around like a screw on top of you. Laughs alternate between each syllable. "P-people are looking, fffucking quit—"
When that beautiful gummy smile breaks on her face, you don't want to. People can look as much as they like and you wouldn't give a damn. Tickling is Hyeju's punishment, and you'll do it to her anywhere to teach her a lesson.
"Ha, haha, I'm sorry, okay!"
"That's my girl." 
You’re not hurt anymore. For a few delicious minutes, you’ll forget you were ever pondering if you like her or not.
Stop completely because you’re easy to convince like that All she needed was that one magic word. Place her on the chair beside you and fold her hands on her lap as if she were a misbehaving child. 
"Now behave yourself."
Hyeju rolls her eyes. "And if I don't?" she challenges you. 
You raise your fingers in a curled position and direct them threateningly centimeters away from her ticklish spots. She gives up. She can't find a punishment worse than that.
"Why are you here anyway? I thought you didn’t want to come," you say, taking the liberty to open your laptop again. The screen directs you to your assignment tab after you type in your password. Sigh; still five thousand words to go. 
"I'm here because I've got nowhere else to be," she answers. She practices her own liberty, too, and sips shamelessly at your iced beverage.
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Her eyes light up at the taste. "I got bored being alone in the dorm."
You think of her alone, and your heart immediately sinks. Maybe you should have stayed there. You’re her roommate—you’re there for her to have company. Sure, the roommates were paired up randomly, but it must lead to something now that you and Hyeju have met again. It was by pure chance that she reunited with you after years of being apart. There’s a string drawing you together, and you don’t know what it means. 
You do know that the reunion with your childhood best friend and seeing how she’s grown made your heart flutter. You act all mean when you’re around her, which is confusing when you’ve missed her so much.
"And I needed somewhere else to finish this thesis before miss Wong realizes it was due three weeks ago." Glare pointedly at her. Here you go again. Told you so. "Somewhere that's not occupied by a brat."
It's true. Call it what you will: an insult, a pointless accusation, but what you said rings true even in your childhood best friend's defiant mind. She could be a handful often.
"I am not a brat," she says, offended. She knows the truth and chooses to deny it. Typical. You should have seen that coming when she’s the girl who lies about the extra dishes in the sink not being her fault and her turn with the laundry.
Sigh. Act as the lawyer; you’re studying to be one anyway. It’s best to practice. "Remember when you cut up the slogan on the mayo label then taped it on me? I had 'white creamy filling; taste me!' on my back for the whole day!" 
"It was a big-ass sticker for a mayonnaise, okay? I couldn't stop myself." Hyeju admits this with hands raised in defeat. "But what about that time you shoved a Toblerone in my mouth while I was sleeping then took a photo of me?"
Raise your hands, too. You realize there's no way to weigh in the blame on a single person when you and Hyeju brought the brat out of each other. It's impossible to go by a day that isn't filled by at least one prank and joking quarrels.
Still, you find it fun. Hyeju's so easy to bond with, so easy to love. 
Whoa, where did that suddenly get here? Like you said, you love Hyeju, but only as a friend. 
So you do love her, in a way. Huh. 
That realization settles in and suddenly you're rendered frozen at the table. Your hands that ought to be finishing your schoolwork are frozen in mid-air. You're staring at the screen like you were watching a gory movie instead of trying to tick off your to-do list. 
"You okay?" she asks, one-of-a-kind lips sealed around the paper straw. "You kind of, like, went to another dimension for a bit."
How do you tell her you’re considering the fact that you might actually like her? You’ve known her for years. Something’s inevitably going to bloom inside you for her, right?
"Y-yeah. I'm good." Not. “And stop drinking my coffee.”
“You wouldn’t need it if you just did the thesis early. What’s so hard about it anyway?” Hyeju stands then bends over to glance at your laptop.
You don’t realize how short her dress is. It rides up to the centers of her thighs and you don’t know how to prevent anyone from seeing something forbidden without brushing down the hem of her dress. If you went down that road, you’d have to run your hand along her back and ass—you’d look like a pervert. 
Idiot. Think of something. Something that isn’t how you’d love to see more when you're just like everyone and shouldn't be allowed more eye access to her body. Only you know how many times Hyeju’s body came up in your mind when you were alone. Paired up with that attractive face that held a permanent pout, it’s impossible not to think of anything else. 
“Ugh! You are so dumb, you know that, oppa?” To your horror, Hyeju sits down neatly on your lap. She has her hands quickly frisking on your keyboard. “There’s a comma missing here, and a citation over here… oh, and a—”
“Save some for the rest of us!” a man about your age and height yells jokingly, cheering you on with a raise of his mug of hot coffee.
Both you and Hyeju look at him with confusion written all over your faces. Your words of surprise almost sync and match with the other for you realize your hands are on her hips, and Hyeju’s leaning back so comfortably in you that anyone would have thought it was another case of couple’s PDA. They’d be wrong though. She’s not your girlfriend. She can’t be your girlfriend.
So why is she so comfortable on top of you, as if she’s always been there? Why did your hands naturally rest on the beautiful slopes of her hips and pull her down the moment she stooped?
The guy’s grandmother smiles adoringly. “Young love,” she says with a dreamy tinge to her aged voice. "What wouldn't I give to experience that again."
You and Hyeju meet each other’s gazes and suddenly you’re unattached to each other. She guiltily settles on her chair and you take your hands off her. That was wrong. Why were the two of you so comfortable with being so touchy? Best friends don’t do that. At least, not best friends of the opposite sex. 
“I should go,” she stammers, standing up. “Call me i-if you need help, oppa.”
Just like that, she’s gone. Where did she go? Why did you lose her so fast?
-
Hyeju’s always called you oppa one way or another, but that moment left a particular jar in your heart. It shards the depths of the core and renders you speechless. You didn’t know that the person you’d love to hear that title the most from is your best friend. She’s supposed to call you that when she’s younger, but even if she weren’t, you’d still love to hear her call you that.
There’s a sense of fulfillment in being able to be Hyeju’s oppa. The one she always relies on. The one she sticks to through whatever happens. That’s why now that she’s told you to call her if you need help makes you ache. It’s the things that are seemingly so simple as that that send more yearning inside you.
The question is: what exactly are you yearning for? Who are you yearning for?
You think you know the answer. It’d take guts to admit it, to finally come clean. But what’s there to come clean about? You don’t love Hyeju. 
A ding from your phone just now. You’re nearly finished with the thesis, and it’s lucky that way since it’s from Hyeju. God knows she has ways of distracting you. Her clean moves at the dance she led and her chill yet stern voice when she commands a rowdy classroom steer you away from what you should be doing, like get away from her. Avoid her at all costs. Never tell her what you’re feeling because it’ll only end up badly for everyone involved. You don’t want to hurt Hyeju, and still you remain hopeful to not get yourself hurt, too.
It takes several seconds for courage to tie you down and pick up the phone. It’s a series of texts from her.
HyejU_U: hey
Sooooooooo
I’m sorry for what happened earlier. 
I didn’t really think and thought that you'd be fine with it
cause yknow
You pulled me down
and
We’re friends.
right?
Yeah, we’re friends, you think bitterly. And no matter how touchy you get, Son Hyeju, it’s all we’ll ever be to you.
HyejU_U: can we just move forward from it? If you want to ofc
Do you? Graduation is near and it’s still taken plenty of years of your life to get over Hyeju. Do you go forward and start on a new slate with her, or dwell in places you shouldn’t be?
Your fingers linger on the keyboard, then—
You: Sure.
Sorry, too
if i like
Made you feel uncomfortable
Wasnt my intention, i promise
HyejU_U: oh you didnt make me feel uncomfy at all.
So don’t worry <3
What a relief.
HyejU_U: i should be the one apologizing anyway
I thought it would be nice to be on you since ur arms feel good around me
Cock a brow. A giddy smile itches at the ends of your lips. Stifle it you will, though she can’t see you through her screen.
HyejU_U: sorry again
i just wanted to see if what i thought was true
Anyways. 
yeah, sorry.
You: so we’re good?
HyejU_U: we have a deal, dickface
;)
See, this is the thing you’re afraid to lose with Hyeju: the carefreeness of your little friendly touches and hugs, insults that take it just far enough, everything. If you told her how you felt (keep in mind that you might not actually like her romantically; you’re just thinking that you might), you’d lose your relationship with her—the one that formed before the two of you even knew what romance was. The one that’s kept the reunion as natural as could be without the need for awkwardness.
You’re so glad to have her back. As a student you’ve nearly cried knowing you passed a semester and worked night and day to finish a difficult assignment—none of those feelings can match the one of relief you felt when Hyeju told you everything was good on both ends. 
But for now, you’ve gotta try to put a dent into this thesis. You’re almost done, you swear. You’ve just been stalling—not intentionally. You swear on that, too. Your whole afternoon’s been swamped up in thoughts about her plus the thoughts about if you’re too perverted a man to be with her. There are a lot of questions left by you immediately responding to Hyeju choosing to sit on your lap. A lot of which are left unanswered.
Priorities. Sigh a little; there’s still work to be done, yet worrying about your best friend is on top of the list. You really should find a hobby when you’re already dragging your teammates behind. Plus, there’s the capstone to worry about that you haven’t prepared for even in the most miniscule bit. So there really shouldn’t be an explanation for why thinking about what she thinks of you is your number one priority. Why, you have plenty of other things to worry about.
You just can’t get her off your mind. These days it’s impossible to.
Abstain anyway, the best you can, from thinking about her and finally complete the thesis. It’s lengthy, well-edited, and has the perfect format to finally make you a lawyer. Attorney doesn’t sound too bad when it’s added to the front of your name.
You should celebrate, actually. The moment you think of it, Daniel suddenly messages you. He’s saying something about it being a Saturday, so you should go to the bar with him. You’re a social drinker, anyway. You could go there without going overboard. Addictions and vices form in these years of fresh adulthood, but you’ve never found yourself wound up in something.
So you do. They ask for your IDs and let you in after a short study of the cards. The guard gives you a lengthy lecture about not being alcoholics as young as you are, but welcomes you anyway.
If we’re talking about getting yourself wound up in someone, though…
“Dude,” Daniel says. He motions his glass to someone coming from the door. “Hyeju.”
You already know he’s rich, but what teacher did he pay to study him into mind-reading? “I wasn’t thinking about her,” you tell him defensively.
“No, I mean, she’s here.” He stares at said woman walking over to the bar with swaying hips. “How the fuck did she get here?”
Hyeju’s here? Swallow. Quick. What do you say? Where exactly in the bar is she right now? Why is she here? When did she get here? Why the fuck are you talking like a news reporter? 
“Hullo, boys.” She stops your train of thought and makes sure to dedicate all of them to her with her hands set on the table and a pretty crop top attached to the curves on her perfect body. You wonder where she got that dress. If she thrifted it, it isn’t obvious—her body does good work in making it look like couture.
“Hi, Hyeju.” Daniel acknowledges her with a nod. He’s a friend of yours and hers, just to remind everyone. He wouldn’t take another step with Hyeju, but you still have yourself staring daggers into his stubbled beard that lines his face and how he takes life as he would a game. There’s a reason why you’re the least tipsy among the two of you. He likes a challenge.
“Hi,” you say meekly. Hope your voice doesn’t sound twisted when your stomach suddenly is. Oh, and it’s not because of Hyeju. It’s the alcohol, pinky promise with a finger heart after. Alcohol’s never made your stomach turn this way though. 
Hyeju regards the shotglasses. “You went drinking without me?” 
“What does it look like?” Daniel asks, giving her the finger. It’s just the usual friendly argument that doesn’t cross lines or anything. The ones that you and Hyeju have. Why do you feel like punching him in the face?
Luckily, she doesn’t have a fragile heart. “Cute. Keep it that way.” She rolls her eyes then turns to you. “Oh, and you. I thought you liked having me around.”
“I’m sorry.” Ask the bartender for another shot then hand it to her. “I guess we just thought you were busy with training.”
She’s training to become an idol. It’s been her dream since she was a kid, when you played in the slides and dropped from monkey bars. She’s always told you she was going to be big someday, and you never doubted that for a second. She even had a name she planned to use if she were to be a performer: Olivia Hye. You weren’t gonna lie, it had a nice ring to it. Not too bad for a name she made up after skimming through a baby name book from the bookstore.
“I dropped out,” she says simply, downing the shot like water.
“What?” you and Daniel ask together. Both of your voices sync with the shock, too. Neither of you could get why she did that. It’s been Hyeju’s dream to become an idol for so long. She couldn’t give that up just like that, but she did.
“Yep.” There’s pride in her voice. “The whole thing was a shithole. I already have Idalso to deal with. I’m not gonna put up with that, fuck no.”
Your heart aches for her dream. Idalso University really is blocking her from achieving it. She could be out there on the stage, maybe having found a better agency, singing and dancing her heart out. Instead, she has to choose one problem at the time and hence goes with college. She has her own parents to please, and because you have yours, you get it. You truly do.
As for Hyeju getting a problem off her mind, like that terrible agency, your spirits lift. You raise a glass and clink it with hers. 
“To getting the hell out of this shithole,” you say; look at the girl you’ve lived for and loved with a smile, “and Son fucking Hyeju for doing it again.”
Your glasses meet. You’re somehow happy that it’s only two, yours and hers, that join. You can’t explain it for the life of you, but you like seeing Daniel become like a background character to it all. Just another extra in Hyeju’s show and yours. It’s cruel, especially when he’s been nothing but a good friend, but it is what it is.
“Tell you what,” Daniel says. “Let’s go to a noraebang tomorrow.”
She’s contemplative. “Isn’t the one near Idalso… like, expensive?” 
“So what?” He shrugs. “You did it, Hyeju. You got out of that company thing. I’m done with my capstone and so is he with his thesis. I say we all have some fun. On me.”
Daniel has the privilege of not worrying about things being expensive or not. It’s the norm for him. You kind of want him to play Dorothy and put himself in your shoes, then make him go through what you did. 
You know it isn’t fair and he’s just being kind. Still and all, your hatred rises.
“What now?” Daniel asks. “You guys in!”
“Of course!” Hyeju nods and claps her hands together. There’s a gummy smile on her face again. You’ve seen it on her many times, but you’ve also seen the sunset everyday—therefore, you’ll still be glad to catch a glimpse of it.
You guess since she’s in, you have to go, too. You say yes and that of course you’d love to go, and this time three glasses clink together prettily. Smiles are on each of your faces albeit yours is artificial.
"Could you act any less like a deadbeat dad?" Hyeju asks. She sits down on the stool beside you after Daniel leaves to get some air. Still feels like he's here when you feel like everyone's eyes are on you and her.
"I'm not doing anything." You say that because you aren't. You definitely aren't stirring a brew of jealousy inside you that poisons the maker, too. You're its creator yet the prophecy that was written tells that it'll turn against you, too. You’re Kronos, and it's an inevitable fate. 
"Exactly. That's what deadbeat means." This matter-of-fact statement from her is followed by Hyeju stealing your shotglass out of your hand right before you drink it. "Seriously, dude. What's up with you?"
Oh, you don't know. Maybe her possibly being your crush? It's such an immature matter, but you haven't had a crush like this. The others were just sweet-faced and from afar. Those are the girls you dream of. To have a girl like Hyeju, the one you've known since forever, with a spunky personality but an opposing pretty face, the one who's been your ride-or-die—it's complicated.
What else could you say to her when the truth is something you'd rather she not hear?
"I'm fine, Hye."
"Are you? You look…" She thinks about it for a while as she studies your hair and poorly combined outfit choices. She slicks your blunt strands back and smiles teasingly. "...sleazy."
"Fuck y—"
"Shhh." She places a finger on your lips. The side of her thigh touches your lap. You're so close that any word you utter won't pass without hitting her. "It's okay. I like it."
You purse your lips. You didn't expect that. She's taken seats on your lap that were uninitiated by you and let you lift her in the air when you hug her. All that and her fingers in your hair are the most surprising.
"You're drunk," you say, although she’s only had a few shots. 
Hyeju inches closer to you and holds your chin in place. "I'm sober as the next wolf, sweetie," she tells you. Her next words fail to show her hesitance. "And… and it just so happens that I really, really want to kiss you."
She's joking. She's playing around with your heart. You're not a virgin—you know what girls do. Hyeju doesn't strike you as the type to do that in spite of what’s going on, but you have to be careful. Your heart’s been bruised too many times already. 
Careful isn't the word for it when you take the first step and lean in for a kiss. Maybe you're drunk yourself. Dizziness enchants your mind as Hyeju's dreamy lips perfectly pout to the shape of your mouth. Her eyes are closed. It's like she's in a restful dream.
You can’t believe you’re doing it. You’re kissing her. Passionately, too—there’s real determination in the way you hungrily lean forward to devour her lips. 
The bar oohs and ahhs, then erupts into a crowd of applause. A few whistles come your way. You can feel Hyeju smile into your mouth.
-
Proclivities upon proclivities to keep her around you and only you couldn’t stop Monday from coming. You’ve only been to a noraebang once and that was with your family. It excites you to go to one again. However, you’d rather have only Hyeju to come, to be the exclusive member of the club that gets to hear her soft, pretty voice echo in the mic.
She’s really doing a number on you. Daniel’s your friend—sure, he might be out of touch with the local games and experiences, yet he’s still important to you. You can’t be mad at him over a girl who probably doesn’t even think the kiss at the bar was anything special. She hasn’t even talked about it with you and acts like it didn’t happen. Just another boy, just another day. That’s probably how you are to her.
Ouch. Way to go hurting yourself with your own made-up scenarios. As expected from you. 
The three of you decide to cut classes. It’s not like you’re in high school anymore. Professors just don’t give a fuck, unless it’s miss Wong. She’s pretty and quiet at first. Then you have to wait to see her get angry—that’s when all hell breaks loose.
No hell on the loose today. Just three little demons from hell called Hyeju, Daniel and yourself down on the loose and down the road to the noraebang. Hyeju’s in a loose black jacket and a plain white tee. You somehow notice that more than Daniel who’s sporting a graphic shirt with swear words from every language printed on it. You don’t have much to say about your attire when it’s nothing special, not even compared to Hyeju, who’s wearing simple clothes like you.
“If a teacher sees us out here—” says Daniel nervously. He’s never rebelled before. The most he’s done is missing a class. 
“No one will,” Hyeju promises him, opening the door of the place for the two of you though in your opinion it should be the other way around: you opening the door for her. What better way to show Hyeju that you could be a gentleman? Too late now. Plus, she doesn’t care much for that. That’s what keeps your excitement on a low burn. It takes more than opening a door and waiting around to impress Hyeju. 
You sign your names at the front. Daniel picks a nice, wide room with a glass table perfect for chips and bottles. The bright screen already shows snippets of K-pop music videos, involving sweet-faced Korean girls waving at the camera and running along a beach. As boyish Hyeju is compared to other girls, you could definitely see her doing that for her passion of becoming an idol. 
“What should we sing?” asks Hyeju, sitting down on the black plush seats comfortably. Her gummy smile is precious.
“Anything you want.” He slings an arm around her. His looped arm tugs her into a warm embrace. “Anything for the soon-to-be lawyer slash K-pop idol.”
Stiffen. Turn away and suddenly take good interest in the walls with a carved 3D effect. Much more interesting than whatever Daniel’s trying to pull on your best friend. Right, Hyeju’s your best friend. Nothing more. That kiss was a drunken mistake. You shouldn’t be getting angry. Besides, this noraebang was rented for you to have fun, not glower at Daniel doing nothing but be a good friend.
Hyeju laughs and leans into him gladly. “Stop, you’re gonna make me throw up!”
You feel out of place all of a sudden. Has she always been that affectionate with him? You thought that those touches and hugs were reserved for you only. Apparently not.
“Sing a song, Hye.” Your eyes don’t meet her gaze.
“They wanted me to debut with this song,” she says. The mic is shaky in her hand. “I—” She blushes. “I want to sing it for you.”
Sweetness infiltrates the air. It’s not of a scent or touch, but of hearing. It's Hyeju’s voice. It's smooth and soft as it passes through the empty atmosphere. No instrumental accompanies her voice, and you’re glad it’s that way. It allows you to marvel at Hyeju’s tone, quiet in spite of its sexiness.
And it takes that and several songs later, sung daringly by all of your trio, and jokes passed among friends that make you think about it. Really think about it. While Daniel and she sing their hearts out to the point of their voices cracking and laughs transforming into guffaws, you sit there and submerge yourself in thought.
You’ve seen Hyeju smile. It's pretty and sweet; her triangle-shaped mouth curls up into a half moon and it's everything you've ever wished for in life. No, fuck food. Fuck oxygen. All you need is her smile. It's cheesy as hell when you page through those types of quotes in those teenage romance books you probably shouldn't even be holding, but you swear that if Hyeju smiles for the rest of her life, it's enough for you to live. She just looks so pretty. Her resting bitch face, stone cold as the title of the expression suggests, is hot (yes, you're using that word), but when she chooses to smile—oh, you're as good as dead.
You don't like Son Hyeju though.
You’ve heard her sing in the noraebang room with her soft voice filling the vicinity. She doesn't sing much although she could. The day would come when she’d say "you know, I almost became an idol. I trained then dipped halfway,” and the pitched raspiness of her voice still would send you to heaven. It's a natural and beautiful thing, a trait she couldn't learn from the best vocal coach.
You don't like Son Hyeju though.
You’ve felt her hair when she leaned into your lap after laughing too much. "Stop, or I swear to god I will fuck your shit up," she told you, slapping your thigh after your terrible dad joke. You ran your fingers through her hair to calm her, but if anything it's an excuse to just touch her. You want to touch Hyeju, and not even in a sexual way. You just want your bodies closed up on each other with no awkwardness barriering the freedom to hold and be held.
And it’s not the kiss, but all these that make you stop your denial, and discover that you—
“—think I like Hye,” you whisper to Daniel when said girl leaves to get some beer. The flashing disco lights hanging from the ceiling can’t camouflage the red on your face. 
Daniel laughs and puts down the mic. The bump on the crafted table sends a tinged pitch of feedback to your ears. “Everyone likes her. So?”
He’s right. Everyone likes Hyeju. Yeah, they like her through every name she’s taken up. She was the star of the school back in middle school when she went as Hyejoo, then the ice princess of high school as Olivia Hye, and finally… as herself now that she’s grown up with you, Son Hyeju. She’s become so many versions of herself and yet people still like the real her. You still know the real her.
“No,” is what you say, as you twiddle your fingers. You don’t know how to say this without causing an uproar. “I like Hyeju.”
He considers this for a moment, weighing in your words. “Like as in… like like?”
A nervous swallow. Is Daniel the right person to tell this ? “Like like,” you reply nevertheless.
Daniel locks his chin between his rough fingers and strokes it thoughtfully. His face is clouded with a feeling you can’t read. “Well, a lot of people do, too. And they wouldn’t blame you for it. She’s—” He looks down at his shoes then back at the noraebang screen. “She’s a pretty girl.”
The understatement of the century. Hyeju’s face was carved with such beauty—curved, pyramid lips; slanted eyes; a cold look that you, unlike people when asked about their first impression of her, weren’t scared of—and she’s just so… easy to love. 
Yes, Son Hyeju is easy to love. Everyone loves her, but she can only ever reciprocate it in a different way to one man. Woman, perhaps? Anything goes, but you'd rather she gives it to you.
You're a selfish person, you admit that. More so when it comes to her. 
"Let's get this party started!" she says. You don't intend to flinch yet you end up doing it anyway when she sits down next to you and hands you canned alcohol. 
"There's only three of us, Hye," Daniel points out. The rounded metal springs up from the can and he gulps down a hefty amount of the spiked liquid.
"Three's a crowd. Especially when it's with you guys."
"So you're saying we're too much?" Match her sass with hidden bits of your own. You're only trying to make it seem like your heart doesn't beg to be held close to hers. 
"Too much is just enough for me." 
Hyeju drops both of her arms around you and your other friend and ruffles your hair. It's sweet. It should be. It’s exactly that which makes you fail to understand why your heart feels squeezed. Why is she also hugging Daniel in the same manner she hugs you?
The kiss at the bar means nothing. The kiss at the bar means nothing. You have to stop thinking that it means there's a ring on your finger already. 
You rise from the sofa to purchase chips because you’re starving, but not for healthy food. You wouldn’t dream of eating a salad when there’s junk food in your general vicinity, and it just so happens that there’s a vending machine you’ve got your eye on at the counter. Soon, a rainbow of plastic bags fills your arms. What they contain would work well to repay your debt with Hyeju. Daniel can eat these without worrying about money. He’s been a good friend. He deserves chips after the evil you’ve thought about him.
"I bought chips—"
Daniel is pushing Hyeju to the end of the sofa and has his lips locked on hers. His hands are in her hair. Her eyes are shut. You can hear the sloppy sounds of kissing bouncing off the noraebang walls. The instrumental from the radio is the cherry on top of everything.
Does this kiss guarantee a ring? 
"Wow," you say. Nod then laugh, as if doing it would make your situation better. “Wow.”
Hyeju turns her head and scrambles for broken dignity. It's too late. You've already seen it. Daniel doesn't even bother running after you when she bursts out of the room to chase you. You're immovable—each step is a promise to take you far away. You trust that promise to skewer you away from Son Hyeju, Son fucking Hyeju who led you on and played with your heart.
"Hey.” Her steps catch up with yours. Walk faster, but she only draws closer. You can’t escape from her now. “Hey!”
"What?" Turn to her, heavy breathing lining your shoulders. You stare into her small face and silently dare her to make an excuse.
To your surprise and her audacity, she does. "It's not what it looks like!" she says, swallowing. How could she be the one near tears when she's the one who kissed him? "Let me explain—"
"I know what I saw."
"Well, you don't see the bigger picture. He sm—"
"—smart? Funny? Rich?" Laugh and shake your head. Your laughs sound more and more genuine. You've gone a little sick in the head. "Yeah, I know. But hey, we're not supposed to be anything, right? Why am I mad? It's not like our kiss meant anything."
"Please, oppa. Listen to me."
"No, go sing together,” you say, then thrust the junk food you bought in her arms. “I’m sure you’re better off with him.”
Mean it. Turn away. Don't bother to look at her when you know she'll go crawling back to Daniel. He's totally her type. He's everything, you're nothing. He's smart, you're not. He loves her more, and you do—just not enough. Now you understand why they were so touchy and close in the room.
Anger is irrational when it was just a kiss. The two of you weren't official, either. If you weren't before, you sure as hell aren't now. It's just not meant to be. 
She likes Daniel, not you. And even though you want to be, you aren't supposed to be angry at Hyeju. She was swept into a high school love triangle that happened a little later in her life, and ultimately chose the better guy. No need to drop names. The kiss was enough for you to know which man she chose.
Besides, you don't love Son Hyeju anyway. Isn't that what you've always told yourself? That's right. You don't love her.
Denial is a river flowing down your cheek.
-
The dorm becomes a cemetery of the living dead. You and Hyeju have not spoken to each other for three months. She stops waking you up for class, and you do the same. The place is notably cleaner after the two of you rely only on yourself to tidy up. Lost are the sarcasm, friendly touches, teasing arguments. It’s like the two of you never knew each other.
It’s through this that you discover that you have to be careful what you wish for. You always thought about Daniel putting himself in your place, and it happened. Ever since the kiss, Hyeju’s been chattier with him, and he pulls her close the way you used to, and she smiles at him like she used to at you, except that it’s wider now. They’re together. Officially together; you’ve seen their Instagram posts. 
Moreover, she’s happier than ever, flourishing without you.
And you? You’re still stuck in that noraebang, replaying that fateful kiss over and over in your head. Each time you close your eyes you see Hyeju and Daniel in a passionate liplock. It’s the kiss that ruined what you had with Hyeju and has made your quality of life deteriorate. You didn’t know that Hyeju makes up almost every part of your day. Mornings are empty without your stroll with her. Post-exam nights aren’t as fun when she’s not there to bring drinks. Afternoons are lonely when she’s always out with Daniel.
You hate the fucker. He knew you liked Hyeju. You’ve told him about it right before the thing he did with her even happened, so it’s impossible that he’d forget. Besides, like he said, the two of you are always together. He surely would have picked up the signs. Unfortunately, he whisked her away just like that.
You dislike to feel like the scheming guy in coming-of-age films who doesn’t get the girl, but it’s the perfect portrayal of your emotions.
Wake up for class. She does, too. You have the decency to not gawk at how good she looks even in a casual tank top and plaid shorts, but she doesn’t even try to hide that she’s staring at you. Just not for the same reason, you assume. You’re just her boy best friend. With the way things are, you aren’t even a friend to her anymore.
You smear cheese onto a soft slice of bread. Still, her eyes are on you. From the corner of what takes up your vision, you could tell that she’s trying to figure out how to make this less awkward. You’d think that an eternity’s worth of effectively giving each other the cold shoulder would make her learn how to do it. She’s a smart girl anyway. She should have figured that out.
“You know… you can’t just keep ignoring me.”
Freeze—it’s the first time she’s spoken to you in a while. And you weren’t prepared for that. It’s like someone threw a punch in your stomach, but it’s also a breath of fresh air. How those two feelings could converge into each other you don’t know. 
“So stop it, will you?” she continues. She swings her legs out of the duvet and places her hands snug on the edge of her bed. “Stop treating me like I’m a…”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m your fucking ex,” Hyeju snarls. The duvet crumples in her fist.
Scoff. Fold the bread slice tight onto the other squared end. Talk about a good morning. “Ex? We were never a thing, Hye… ju.” 
Right, it isn’t like that anymore. You can’t call her Hye like the old times.
The hurt that registers on her face, still pretty in the midst of pain, comes by so fast it would take a magnifying glass to see it clearly. Now she’s the one scoffing. She recovers quickly from the stifled nickname so well that you never would have guessed you disarmed her. “That’s the thing. You’re right—we weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. So why are you acting like I’m a ghost?”
“I wonder why,” you say. “Couldn’t be because you kissed me then decided to kiss another guy while I was away. Nope, totally out of the question.”
What happened? It seems like just yesterday the two of you were throwing insults and playfully quarreling with each other like it’s natural. This is a real disagreement here. This can’t be resolved with a smile or hug. You and Hyeju aren’t like that anymore. It’s a thing of the past.
Just like your friendship.
“If you’d just let me explain—”
“You know what? I don’t have time for this. Go with Daniel to class. Have a good life with him. Just call me if you get lost.”
Don’t even try to take a bite out of your cheese sandwich. You leave it on the table. Later, it’ll become stale and cold, similar to your friendship with Hyeju, or whatever kind of fucked up relationship you have.
You storm out of the dorm. You’re glad to get out—you’re already worried about the test later and the night class with miss Wong. Don’t need a situationship to take up your mind either. 
The day passes like a car on a rocky, jagged road. It’s difficult to muster a smile to the freshmen the moment you come in to help miss Jeong teach, or work on your test when that argument with her fills your mind rather than equations you should have memorized. The whole day is torture, and you don’t dare wish it on anyone. Not even that asshole Daniel
“What’s up with you today?” people ask you. “You sure you’re alright?” “Where’s Hyeju?”
You don’t answer.
When the night comes, it’s relief for your sore mind and body. That test beat you up and the sun was too cruel to your skin. Even if night classes could last till the brink of dawn, you don’t mind. Take comfort in the fact that it’s only a discussion and nothing more. 
Barely listen though. Two a.m. creeps by and you haven’t taken in a thing. Usually miss Wong would have you focused, keeping in mind that she’s strict and merciless, but you’re too tired today. Your bones ache though you didn’t do much walking. They’re only symptoms of heartbreak.
You don’t want to see a doctor. In fact, you want to get worse.
Miss Wong looks up at the clock. “Is it alright if I extend for just five minutes?” she asks. Her pencil skirt struggles to contain her strides on the platform.
A chorus of mixed responses echo in the classroom. Others, the top students in particular who participate in every club you could name, say it’s fine. Some already have excuses to make: they need to work on homework; they have other classes to go to; every excuse existing. You don’t know which side you’re on—you don’t want to come home to another angry night with Hyeju, and at the same time, you can’t be assed to stay.
Then—
Ringing. It’s all you hear. Your classmates’ voices drown out in it. It’s supposed to be soft, but it isn’t anymore when everyone shuts their mouth in alarm. Look here, look there. You don’t know where it’s coming from. 
Your hint is the light in your pocket. Fish it out. It’s coming from your phone.
“I thought I told you guys to put your cellphones on mute during class,” Wong says, sighing. Her glare shoots you a warning.
Okay, you’d say sorry to her and put your phone away. Drop the call. Anything. But the first thing you do is wonder:
Why the fuck is Son Hyeju calling you?
Aside from all the tension between you, your natural instinct is to answer. Your next is to ask her, “Hye?”
“Oppa…” comes her voice from your speaker.
Before you could wonder why she’s calling, you notice that Hyeju’s voice is… lonely. Yes, lonely. That’s the word you’d use right away if you’re asked to describe it. No, it can’t be just that. It’s mixed with something else. It’s higher, a little more groggy.
Forget that you were fighting. Forget that she kissed Daniel and broke your heart. She wouldn’t call if it isn’t something even her pride can’t protect. “Hyeju? What’s wrong?” 
“I’m lost.” 
-
Those are the two words she utters before breaking into sobs. You’ve never heard or seen Hyeju cry. She likes to treat problems with anger rather than sadness, slicing away at every conflict with groans and cursing professors for low grades. If she’s crying, it must mean something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong.
You’re keenly aware that all eyes and ears are monitoring your moves, but you don’t care. You rise from your seat and start gathering your laptop into your bag. You forget about your notes. Fuck them. Hyeju comes first. 
“Where did you go, Hye?” Walk out of the class. If miss Wong has a problem with that, she can tell you about it tomorrow. 
Sniffles on her end. Her quiet, low cries break your heart. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I need you, oppa. I have… I have nobody else. Please come and get me.”
“Hyeju—”
“Please,” she whispers. Her voice lowers to a whine. “I’m alone. I’m so alone.”
Tears itch at the bottoms of your eyes. You have to come and get her. Need to forget the fight and silent treatment that ensued. All that means nothing if Hyeju’s in need of your help.
Where the fuck are your keys? Remove them from the loop of your jeans and click the button. In the driveway, your car’s headlights shine. Yep, there it is. You once regretted buying a secondhand car like that. Now that it can get you to Hyeju, you vow to take care of it for life. You’d spend thousands to repair it if it breaks down.
But right now, it’s Hyeju who’s breaking down. She’s all alone somewhere and she needs you. In a way, you need her, too. She’s the one who’s braver to admit it.
You’ve never driven faster in your entire life. All the while you stay on the line with Hyeju. Your grip on the wheel tightens whenever she lets out a hopeless little sob. She’s crying so hard that you want to roll into a ball in the corner and cry, too. You can’t do that. You have to be the stronger one, the one who comes to her like she’s done for you and tells her that everything’s going to be alright.
You make no promises. 
Eventually you coax a location out of her and break several speed limits. Ignore the cops that yell at you. They can all go and fuck off. Hyeju needs you. You’re her best friend. It’s what friends do.
“Motherfucker,” you curse, upon seeing that the location she led you to was a club. It’s hidden in the corner of a creepy alley. “Hyeju, are you drunk?”
“Nooooo…” she drawls, giggling through her tears. “Your voice is so nice, oppa. It really makes me feel better. Did’ya know that?”
No time to be flattered. You burst into the club and find her in the midst of flashing lights and crowds of bodies. Your ears ring because of the music. Whose idea was it to hire this DJ? He thinks he’s doing such a good job, too. 
Hyeju’s in the center of it all. Her black coat is too big for her, but so is the crowd. When it moves, it drags her along by the toes. She’s… smiling? Wasn’t she crying on the phone just minutes earlier? Maybe she drank more. This can’t be good.
“Hyeju!” Start walking faster. 
She sticks her tongue out at you and starts to sprint upon seeing you get close.
You have no time for games. This isn’t even in the least bit funny. What if someone spiked her drink? What if that was the reason she’s acting funny? Worse: what if someone’s planning to take advantage of her? All these concerns bump into each other in your head as you run after her. 
A couple of “excuse me”s and “sorry!”s after you quickly squeeze in between dancing people. Drinks spilled on the floor. Anger from two dolled up ladies. (A look to your right and… yep, not only from them.) Disapproval from the DJ who even calls you out. Boos from the crowd. You don’t care about them. You only care about getting Hyeju to safety. She can’t be here in her vulnerable state.
Before she could dash out from your line of vision, you grab her wrist. Seal your grip around it tightly so she can’t escape. “Son Hyeju,” you say, glaring at her. Ever since she stopped crying, she started to play around. This isn’t a game but to her it is. A fun game, to be more precise. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Oooh, you caught…” She burps. Playful giggles spill from her mouth. “... me!” Hyeju gives you a drunken smile and claps for you regardless of her right hand being held into position. 
“Why are you here?”
“Why are you here? See? I can ask stupid q-questions, too!”
You whisk her away from the ongoing party and into the cold night air. You’re about to throw your jacket on her when you see that she’s wearing one, too. 
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People are starting to stare. Pray that no one intervenes, even if they have good intentions. After all, you’re a man with a woman under the influence. They have every right to be concerned, but you hope that just for now they know you wouldn’t dare hurt Hyeju.
The wind blows a breeze that almost knocks you to the floor. You draw Hyeju to yourself to warm her. You can’t risk her catching a cold. 
”Let me go, oppa!” Hyeju’s mood goes from sad to drunkenly cheerful to pained. She forces her wrist out from your fist harshly. Your arms no longer wrap her. “You don’t like me anymore, right? And I have a boyfriend!”
Capture her hand again. She can’t escape and run away a second time. You’ve done that too much to know that it’ll send her down into a dizzying spiral. You’re cowards, the both of you—that’s why you flee whenever a problem arises. You don’t know how to deal with it. 
That changes now. Get in your vehicle. Pull her in, too. “For your information,” you say, locking her seatbelt in place, “you called me. You asked me to pick you up.”
The car roars to life and speeds down the road. The night barely provides light for you to move along. It’s beautiful nevertheless. Stars peek out from the depths of black. The moon is dim yet reassuring. What fate does it have in store for you? Would you accept it if you knew? How could they all look so serene while you have your drunk crush next to you starting an argument?
“And you’d loooove not to do it, wouldn’t you?” Hyeju’s words suggest that she’s no longer that drunk but the way her words come out like jumbled words in a newspaper crossword tell you otherwise. She leans against the door and crosses her arms. “It was a mistake to call you. You, you fucking hate me.”
Does she really believe that? You may hate Daniel, but you never once hated Hyeju. You’ve only had wistful feelings for her even after she kissed him. You still checked up on her socials and watched her as she ate lunch with him. You remained loyal to her, like a dog following its owner through scoldings.
Yeah, you really are just her dog.
“I don’t hate you, Hye,” you say with conviction. You’re determined to make her believe that. It’s difficult when you’ve never been the type to be good with words. 
“Yes, you do! You wouldn’t even let me explain why I kissed Daniel!”
“For fuck’s sake, I was hurt! I didn’t know what to do!”
“Then hear me out for once!”
“Alright.” Your hands slap the wheel, unintentionally bumping the horn and causing Hyeju to cringe. “Go on. Tell me what happened.”
“He was the one who kissed me, the fucking idiot! He kissed me out of the blue and wouldn’t stop!”
Wait.
What? 
Daniel, your friend and Hyeju’s, initiated the kiss? Hyeju didn’t want it to happen?
If only you knew, you would have beaten up Daniel a long time ago. 
You can’t even speak. You had it all wrong. You can’t believe there was an explanation for everything and you refused to hear it. 
Hyeju begins to sob again. Her words circle in the air like an incantation. It’s equally because of the alcohol and her emotions. “I was… talking to him about my training, but then he kissed me.” She wipes her face and laughs humorlessly. “He started making out with me and, a-and I didn’t know how to stop it. It was like I was frozen.”
“You… you didn’t kiss him?” Your tone is broken and incredulous. “He made you do it?”
She looks almost offended. “Why? Why would I ever kiss that bastard?”
“But you’re dating him.”
“I am,” says Hyeju, hands in her hair, “Hah, okay. I'm dating him, yeah, but that’s just because I thought you didn’t like me. I only want one person in the world, and it isn’t Daniel Smith.”
“Hyeju—”
“It’s you, you clueless little shit!” She punches your shoulder and muffles her face into your car pillow. Her next scream is elongated, filled with frustration. When she lifts her face from the pillow, her eyeliner and blush are smeared and wet with teardrops. “It’s you, and I only want you!”
In vino veritas.
The confession is as out of the blue as Daniel’s kiss was. You’re in a state of shock and disbelief—too much information is coming into your brain. You want to punch Daniel in the face for shocking her with an unwanted move. You want to hug Hyeju. You want to tell her that you’re sorry for not hearing her side of the story. 
Most importantly, you want to tell her that you want her, too.
It’s too late now. She’s seen you disregard her voice and choose to have a one-track mind. There’s no way she wants you anymore.
“Why the fuck would you ever want me, Hyeju?” 
“Because!” She lets out a shivering little sigh. “You don’t treat me like… hlk, like I’m a trophy to show off. You’re my friend. You know how to be mean but you take care of me even if I’m too moody sometimes. Even if I don’t want to come along with you outside because I’m scared I’ll make myself look stupid in front of you. Even if… even if I love too hard but don’t show that I love you most and that sometimes you take care of me more than my dad does and I know it’s wrong to see you that way when I’m with him now but I really want you to take care of me but still kiss me too if I need it and be okay with me calling you names like ‘daddy’ and still being your best friend besides being my boyfriend… but I know it can’t happen anymore and I ruined everything—”
“Hyeju.”
More tears flow down her face. “—and I know you won’t ever love me the same again but I’ll regret forever, long after we graduate, that I never showed that I loved you, that I was a coward—”
“Hyeju,” you say, gently. Pull over at the university parking lot. You have your finger on her mouth, sealing them to stop her droning. She pauses. She doesn’t do it without breaking down. “Please. Don’t tell me you don’t know it. It’s been happening under your nose every single day.”
“What?” she murmurs, eyes glassy as they connect with yours.
“I like you, too.”
Silence. Several beats go by. They’re too lengthy to be fake. The next nuance confirms that:
Talk about relief. Talk about passion. As if she’s forgetting that a sudden kiss was what opened Pandora’s box, Hyeju grabs your face and does exactly that. Again, it has too many things to it that blocks it from being faux. The unique shape of her lips mold onto yours, as if your lips were made to kiss each other all the time. It’s back to the café again, wherein she does something and you subconsciously follow along. Your hands are on her phenomenal waist. And soon you’re unbuckling her seatbelt so she could sit safely on your lap, where she’s supposed to be. Where she belongs.
She drops her touch to your shoulders. She massages them, and you groan delightfully. Now it’s your turn to hold her face and lean in closer. Hyeju’s mouth tastes of sweetness and alcohol. You don’t know how those two tastes could mix together. Hyeju makes it work.
“Oppa, daddy,” she whimpers. She pulls away. The distance is still close to nothing. “Daddy, I love you.”
It’s a sudden nickname, still detached from when she uses it with you jokingly, yet there’s no hesitance here. You know your truth. “I love you, too, Hyeju.”
“Will you take me to bed?” She starts grinding down on your shaft needily. “Please say you will, daddy. Please say you’ll make me happy.”
“You’re drunk. I… I don’t know if I should.”
“‘m not. Maybe. But I’ve wanted it to happen for a long time,” Hyeju says. “I won’t mind, I promise.”
She couldn’t get any more sober with that. So you do what any man would do if they were called daddy by Son Hyeju: lift her out of your car, not caring to check twice if it’s locked, and bring her to bed. Take her coat off—she won’t need it if you’ll make her warm from the inside and out.
Her arms round your neck and her face is buried in your chest. Her words come out in a desperate, needy tone that you haven’t heard from her since the day you met. Who exactly were you to make her this small?
Her daddy, of course.
See, as tough as Hyeju makes herself out to be, she’s still needy. She still has her own problems that haven’t let go of her now that she’s older, like the daddy thing. You only fully understand it now when you lay her on the bed and continue kissing her. Hard. Her moans call out for you. They aren’t merely things to whine if it feels good. It’s not even a matter of want anymore; her shivers and cries indicate of her carnal need for you to do what you will with her.
“Don’t be scared,” she tells you, closing her eyes as you kiss her perfect jawline. “You wanted me for so long, right? Well, I did, too. Do what you want to me. Fuck me, daddy.”
“You talk extremely dirty for someone who’s drunk,” you chuckle. 
“Not so drunk anymore. You make me sober.”
“Sweet talker. You’re all bark and no bite.”
Hyeju has no retort to make. Your lips on her gorgeous nipple render her speechless. The cute pink nub is hard, and grows harder at your loving suckles. Her breasts are the perfect size for squeezing. Relish in that fact by squeezing her left breast while dedicating more of your attention to the other, making her become sensitive with each action. 
You’d say you have bite, for you do so lightly on her breast. She gasps. “Daddy!” she cries out.
“Fuck, don’t say it like that.” Your cock throbs already. It’s the same feeling you get all those times before, the times you’d get into an argument with Hyeju and she’d call you that.
“What? It’s not my fault you can’t handle me,” she says wittily.
“Don’t try me.”
“What?” She cocks a brow. “Hit too close to home?”
You have to shut her bratty self up. Tug her pants off, sliding them off her silky legs. Her pink panties are a hint to the gentle color of her pussy. Find out about them anyway—push the underwear aside and shove three fingers in her.
“Oh shit.” Hyeju’s squeeze on your digits is instant, like an impulsive reaction. 
Think about if Daniel has done this to her before and pick up the pace. You’re fingering her like the walls of her soaked pussy would banish him and let you have her all to yourself. “Son Hyeju,” you growl, “shut the fuck up.”
“W-won’t—ah!” 
If you don’t make her quiet, you’ll at least reduce her words to pathetic moans. You’d say you’re successful. Your rapid thrusts send Hyeju’s screams paralleling the night wind with their strength. 
You’re surprised again and again at how loud she could get. She’s always so quiet except for the occasional sarcastic remark. She can make no more of those if faced with the relentless fingering you do unto her pussy. They draw out strings of dampness when they withdraw, and fill her right to the knuckles when you go back in. Her hips squirm and you have to place a hand on her thigh to continue.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy!” she screams. Her mouth is open while she sits up to look at what you’re doing to her vulnerable cunt. “It feels so fucking good, don’t stop!”
She looks beautiful. Her shirt is lifted above her breasts, making them bounce madly due to the timing and force of your thrusts. Her eyes could never be more watchful. She can’t believe she actually has you between her legs and fingering her to orgasm.
“Got any comeback for me, Hye?” you ask smugly. 
Hyeju nods. Her lips are parted again. Although you haven’t had sex with her except for now, you know what that dropped jaw means: she’s close.
Her walls are impossible to part completely. She’s too damn tight that you bet she’d still be so with one finger. The grip of her slippery, wet cunt is like no other. You reach deep into it and stroke out till you find the place. That’s how Hyeju starts to shiver. She can’t manage it.
“Oh, yeah? What do you have to say now, sweet?” Wrap your lips around her nipple. It’s another one of your unfair advantages over her.
“I-I-I—I can’t!” 
The recoil of Hyeju’s tits is amazing. Harshly squeeze the boob you’ve relatively neglected to make sure she can’t get a word out of those pretty lips. Take a further step and smack it, too. She moans in satisfaction. Your harsh squeezes imprint a replica of your hand on her pale skin. 
Of course, you don’t forget to keep your fingers going. You change techniques now and then, switching from gentle circling to rapid fire shoving. Whether it’s one or the other, Hyeju’s fuckhole swallows you up. She doesn’t mind which or what; she needs your harshness the most. It’s what counts as a whole.
“Daddy, I’m gonna cum! Please make me cum on your fingers, make your babygirl cum… oh—oh, fuck!”
Combined with your thumb nudging her small clit and your digits absolutely destroying her tightness, Hyeju does the unthinkable: she squirts on your hand and on your bed. Liquid gushes on your shirt; it’s so consistent and clear that a new determination is founded within you. It’s to make your unbearably hot best friend cum like she never has.
For the record, it’s the first time you’ve made a girl squirt. You didn’t expect that it would be this satisfying. Seeing Hyeju’s blissful face and the shake of her beautiful legs make your efforts worth it. Watching yourself do it to your best friend and make her feisty, boyish self let out screams and pleas brings increased triumph.
“No, oh god, it’s too much!” Hyeju says this but her legs part more. Her head is tossed back and her moans don’t stop. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t—daddy!”
“Messy little brat.” Rub away at her clit. Feel the spurt of her cum hit your finger. “That’s it, cum for daddy. Keep those pretty thighs open.”
Hyeju mewls at the mixture of degradation and moans. If Daniel had said that to her, she probably would have thrown up in a bucket. When it’s you, on the other hand, everything changes. She wants you to call her every harsh name out there and accompany it with sides of praise. She’ll only feel this good when she’s with you.
Hyeju is anything but obedient. Things change here in the dorm, where her pussy is spread and prone to your touch. Her midriff, soft yet slender, rises over and over. The hose of her wet orgasms still hasn’t stopped.
“Goddammit, you’re squirting so much. Am I that good, hm, Hyeju? Is daddy that good to his pretty little girl?” 
“Mmm, mmm, don't— no more, daddy, no more!” Hyeju’s core is already spent, and you haven’t even put your cock in her yet. 
Stop. Not before you leave a kiss to the sensitive bundle of nerves that you abused. It’s a mark now, something invisible that subtly says to everyone that you got to fuck her. You got to fuck Son Hyeju. You made her cum like never before.
Spit on Hyeju’s center then spread it to her lips and nub. She moans. “You’re so wet, Hye.”
“Whatever.” She’s blushing. “I’ve had better.”
You have to say you’re a little provoked. You know it’s false seeing the smug look on her face and after making her squirt, but who exactly has done her better? Daniel? Definitely not him. The possibility still does well to spur you to jealousy.
“Oh,” you say, smiling tightly, “so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”
Hyeju gasps happily when she’s pushed to the wall and on her knees. It’s reminiscent of how Daniel did exactly that: pinning her to the wall before kissing her. Your anger brews into a fire just thinking about him. 
“Yeah. What’re you gonna do about it?”
Unbuckle your belt. Your jeans join it on the floor as well as your briefs. “I’m gonna clean that dirty mouth of yours.”
“And how are you gonna do that, daddy?” Hyeju pretends not to know what’s coming.
It’s your belief that actions speak louder than words. That’s why when you place your cock in between Hyeju’s lips, it resonates inside her more than your promise to purify her mouth. Logic fails here when dirty sins can’t remove Hyeju’s dirty words. One wrong and another doesn’t make a right. Oh, who cares? This isn’t a class. This isn’t your thesis. You focus only on feeling the softness of her triangular mouth, the wetness of the back of her throat.
Holding your cock by the base, you lead its tip into rubbing every corner of Hyeju’s mouth. Her cheeks make an outline of your girth as you press your head against them. Her jaw becomes slack after you press your dick down to her tongue. You’re technically doing all the work here because you’re fucking her face, but you’d argue that Hyeju contributes just as much with her tearful eyes that are more puppy than wolf.
The shape of her wet orifice leaves ample space for you to rub against everything. Your tip draws a triangle on her lips right before slipping inside. There you keep your word and clean her dirty mouth. Push those naughty words down her throat with immediate thrusts. That way, she can only moan, nothing else. No sass can be heard from her now.
“You’re such a bad girl, Hyeju,” you say. Curl your hand ‘round her messy hair and direct it downwards. She groans, her mouth now upright for yout fuck easier into. “You shouldn’t like having your mouth used like this. You shouldn’t be on your knees for your best friend when your boyfriend’s waiting for you at home.”
Hyeju knows you’re right. She shouldn’t. She isn’t supposed to enjoy having her throat rammed and spread. She shouldn’t be cheating on the man she claims to love. It’s a mistake of hers to be here anyway, underneath another man. 
Her second mistake is to like everything the way it is..
Her third is to tongue your shaft like she would a sweet treat. She wants to taste all of you, from your thick tip to the base. She’s not had much to work on with Daniel, but she knew it would be a good time when you sprung out your cock. She makes this worth it—she seals her lips at your base, her nose pressed firmly at the bottom of your tummy, then produces such a harsh suction that the grip you have in her black locks of messy hair tightens. A curse is what you let out besides precum. 
“Fuck,” you say. Pull her head closer. Aggressive thrusts fire away. “Didn’t know your pouty little lips could suck dick so well. I bet it’s bulging your throat. Is daddy right about that?”
She tries to nod. Her gags stop her intended action; your thrusts have sped up and are now destroying her tight throat. No space is left for her to breathe when her mouth is stuffed with your length. Even her nostrils can’t take in much air if her nose is pressed that tightly to your stomach.
Place a hand on the wall in order for there to be no aches for her head when you thrust wildly. “You know, I changed my mind. Maybe you’re a good girl, especially with that face. Go on, touch yourself. I know you want to.”
Permission is granted by her daddy. Hyeju gives a cry in response then leads her hand between her legs. Letting you fuck her face has made her wet beyond imagination. She doesn’t need to press directly on her pussy when there’s slick all over her thighs. She gathers them all up and places them back in her pussy. She moans as she swirls her digits inside her. Here’s how it works: she has one hand masturbating, and the other on your thigh to caress it and at the same time keep her balance.
Take note of that. “You’re a smart girl, Hyeju. Smart girls shouldn’t be letting their faces get fucked. We can’t have that happen, right?”
You say that yet your actions tell a different story. Your violent pumps into Hyeju’s mouth to use it to the limits are endless. Hyeju’s moaning. She enjoys it more than she should. Of course, you jam those moans, as pretty as they are, down her throat. 
Slap your cock on her lips.
“You know what I mean.”
Slip the whole of your length out then in again. Make her brush those luscious lips against every inch.
“We really, really can’t have that happen.”
Caress her cheek. Her eyes are awaiting and obedient. Look down into them and almost feel bad for ruining her, your best friend.
“Daniel might walk in anytime. He’ll be looking for you.”
Your movements are cruel as time goes by. You shouldn’t be treating your best friend like this. You shouldn’t even be having sex with her. All of these ought to stop you in your tracks—you don’t.
“And what will he say when he sees his precious girlfriend on her knees for his best friend?”
Hyeju begins to whine. She doesn’t want him to walk in; she’s enjoying this too much. What she doesn’t want to happen even more is for you not to blow your load inside her warm throat. People can’t have what they want all the time, but she swears she won’t want anything else if you just give her what she wants. That’s for you to absolutely use her. Be cruel to her and it wouldn’t sting.
“He’ll start to think how better you are with me. You’re a bad girl, Hyeju. You know that and you still want me.”
You’re right in every way. She is better with you. You just fuck her better, treat her better, kiss her better. She can’t kiss better the wound she’ll leave in Daniel if he just so happens to walk in. Maybe she could, but she’d put salt on it when he discovers how good you make her feel. It isn’t fair to anybody. To you, the one she accidentally hurt; to Daniel, who was the one (no, make that the two with how he was her last resort and how she gave him false hope); to her, who can’t go without you.
“Let go.”
Nine.
It takes exactly nine strokes in between her folds for her to cum. Drool sheens your girth. Some even drip from her mouth. It’s like she’s in heat; she’s whining as she tries to cum and suck you off at the same time. Hyeju ends up sucking your shaft with desperation, legs quivering and threatening to give away.
“Cum with me, Hyeju,” you command her. Pull out, rather regretfully, but take comfort with how pretty she’d look covered in your cum. Your hand wraps around you and jerks you off. Although it can’t match Hyeju’s mouth or her ass, it’ll do well in shooting your load on her.
Your best friend keeps calling your name squeezed between “daddy”s as she fingers herself to orgasm. She collapses pathetically on the floor, in a pool of sweat and cum. Her shirt and the floor of your shared dorm room are stained. No need to wonder where those white stains come from; the only suspects are you and Hyeju. It’s a partnered crime for her squirt comes out at such a velocity that it rivals your cumshots.
“Take my load, Hyeju, fuck!”
If there’s anything Hyeju isn’t, it’s submissive. It somehow changes when she nods and opens her mouth. You’re introduced to a whole new side of her. Her post-orgasm face is one you hope to admire everyday. Look at the expressions she makes when her eyes are crossed and her tongue is out for you and you have difficulty choosing between the two. 
You and Hyeju exchange a tired look. If you’re to be specific, a look is how everything starts. You became friends with her because she was staring at you too long a time in class. You quickly reunited with her in college when you looked to your back to see to whom the familiar voice belonged. It took one quick glance to see that Daniel had kissed her in the noraebang.
Similarly, a look is what causes you to shamelessly throw Hyeju on the bed again. By now her limbs curl into yours like this were a completely natural thing that happened between you, as if she were always being fucked and manhandled like this. Your kisses now are more aggressive, too. They aren’t nervous like earlier, when you still weren't sure if doing this was right. Hyeju responds by engaging in a battle for dominance, pushing forward and pulling the forces connecting you. 
You win in the end.
Slam her back down to the mattress. Her anticipation is written clearly in her eyes. “I’m going to ruin you, Son Hyeju,” you say.
She laughs in your face. “Bet.”
Alright. You’ll show her. It’s a friendly bet you’ll take all seriousness in.
Align your dick with her waiting cunt. You shed all attempts to tease her or dive into foreplay. What she needs is your cock inside her, rearranging her insides. If that’s so, you’ll give it to her. 
“Oh!” Hyeju gasps. Her pretty eyes are big above her hands covering her face. She never guessed you would feel this good inside her. “You’re so fucking big, daddy. It's, it’s better than I imagined, fffuck.”
Steer all your weight into this thrust specifically. Your tip makes contact with her G-spot and sends her legs shaking. Send her a couple inches further on the mattress. Her godly tits begin another round of bouncing. There’s no other routine you’d love to watch. 
Already you've put your hands on her hips. They’re to pull her closer if she gets lost. Again. You have to make sure you won’t lose her this time. This chance was given to you for a reason. You have to keep her here, show her all the love you’ve kept bottled up all these years.
Hyeju squirms a lot. That’s what your grip is for. It’s to keep her on the bed so she can easily receive your pumps. And what a good job she does at receiving them—Hyeju’s hips shiver as they’re subjected to a force her sensitive pussy can’t handle. She’s always going into things she can’t handle. This is no different. Time with Daniel was okay, but you’re a different story. You ensure that she’s always filled to the hilt until she’s bottoming out. 
Deeper and deeper you go. Your cock knocks up into her tummy. You curse; it’s hotter than it’s supposed to be. Something as simple as that shouldn’t be so arousing.
“Oh, you like that? You… you like seeing your big cock stuffing my little pussy?” asks Hyeju. Her teeth are parted to let in air she so desperately needs to formulate these words. She knows they’ll turn you on. “I know you do, daddy. Look at your meat ruining my insides. You’re going to cum so much inside me. And I’ll take it all. I’m a good girl. I’ll show you I’m a good girl.”
She leads your hand to her throat and closes your digits around it. Get the message. Squeeze there tight. Her strangled gasp is everything.
“You are, huh?” you say. Your composure is long gone. “Are you always this tight, Hyeju? Are you always this good? Or is it just for daddy?”
There’s something incredibly hot in the way Hyeju gushes and screams for you. Her nipples stand in the air, aroused by the quick penetrating done to her pussy. It seems almost impossible for her to be this wet. Each push of your hips brings forth a gush of wetness that wets the sheets and your joined crotches. Bring out your cock for a second to quickly flick its tip on her clit.
Hyeju gropes her own chest with closed eyes. “Ohhhh, fuck!” 
Return to your routine of drilling her. Her whole body reacts violently to your pounding. Moreover, every part of Hyeju’s beautiful body screams to be touched. Her jiggling thighs and breasts, her midriff prone to your thrusts, her face that’s never looked this slutty… where should you start? Your touch is given multiple choices, and you choose all of them. Your hands roam her body and squeeze and feel and grope. In response, she moans. The volume of her acute voice turns up with each, almost like her body has triggers that would draw out louder sounds. 
You think of it that way and now Hyeju’s screaming as you propel inside her while keeping a hand on her clit. 
“Daddy, o-only you, daddy!” she proclaims in a helpless scream. “No one can make me feel as good as you do, just keep fucking me, don’t stop!”
You’ve got your answer. Smile in satisfaction and, since she’s a good girl and gave the correct response, lean it to worship her breasts. Does slapping them count as worshiping? Hyeju thinks it does—her high groans and yells are enough to be context clues. You marvel at the size of her chest, so subtle with the baggy clothes she wears but now in their full, naked glory before you. It’s impossible for them to be presented to you without a squeeze being done.
“You like my tits, daddy? I’ll let you fuck them all you want, just finish inside me. I’m safe today. Promise, p-pro—”
Bury yourself deep inside her, to the point that your cockhead pushes at her cervix. Fill her up. Hyeju moans happily. She rolls her body up and down. The stimulation seduces you into making (kind of) breeding her a job well done.
“Thank you, daddy.” she sighs. She’s still erotically grinding her hips. It’s karma for overstimulating her a little earlier when your fingers filled her. 
“S-stop, Hyeju.”
“Stop? Alright, sure. I think that’s enough now. Daddy doesn’t want to fuck my tits anymore.”
Naughty little brat. She knows just the right words to tick you off and turn you on. It makes you want her to pound her into the bed again so that not even the old mattress can forget that it was the place you and Hyeju fucked.
“I’m just kidding, silly. Sit down! Yes, thank you.” 
She flashes you a smile after you do as she says. It’s a rare moment in this session with her that she has the say in what happens. Somehow. It can’t be completely true, not when she’s on her knees again for you. Not when her tongue trails worshipful lines on your cock and draws tight licks on your tip. Shiver. You’re a bit sensitive yourself.
“Now see how good this feels?” 
She takes her glorious breasts in her hands and wraps them around your cock. You let out a guttural moan. Hyeju’s tits rival her mouth and pussy. It’s a close competition, with the advantage of softness most of all. Oh, when she starts to move, gliding her supple skin up and down your size, you almost cum on the spot.
Her bosom is a portal to heaven, you swear. Your legs feel light. Your core is hot as your size disappears between her breasts, buried in the soft and safe haven she provides. The friction is so overwhelming that you doubt it could even be a real sensation.
She makes a show of rubbing your tip on her nipple, similar to what you did to her clit. The two of you are sensitive, so you moan in harmony as it happens. After gliding your cock on her large breasts, she goes back to titfucking you. 
It’s all a matter of technique. Whenever she presses her chest together, your cock is suffocated with euphoric tenderness. On the other hand, when she simply moves up and down, you’re given the opportunity to grind down at the skin between her pale breasts. Each route leads to an inevitable fate: exploding all over her a second time.
"P-please stop, Hyeju," you say. You can't handle no more and there's so many more things you want to do to her.
"Awh." She pouts. Fat tears risk spilling from her eyes. God, she could be so cute sometimes. "What do you want, daddy? I can be good."
"Turn around."
"Ohhh, I see what you want." Hyeju turns around and spanks herself. Her ass ripples photogenically. "Of course. Of course you want it."
Hyeju can be so many things. A few minutes earlier she was a submissive babygirl for her daddy, and right before that she was a brat. Now, she transforms into a seductress. She doesn't lace or lingerie to become one. She has that fantastic body to do the work for her.
Hyeju starts to dance. Your eyes are trained on her. They never want to see anything else than her swaying her butt with a dancer's grace and charm. 
"Giving me a show, huh?" 
"Unless daddy wants it already." 
"I do."
She squeezes her ass cheek before reaching her pussy. Then, she rubs her wetness on her pink, puckered hole. She lathers some at the inside of the rim, too. She didn't expect to fuck you today, no matter how many times she's dreamed of it, so there's no lubricant around. Hyeju has to make do.
"Oh!" she squeals when you give her a playful smack on the ass. "Impatient. Daddy's impatient. Don't worry, I'll give it to you."
“You did this before?”
“Duh.” Hyeju smiles sweetly, quickly returning to her good girl side. “You ready now, daddy?”
Apparently, it’s a rhetorical question, for Hyeju immediately guides your tip into her backside. You do your part in spreading her cheeks. Both of you moan at the first contact. It’s difficult by itself to insert just your tip through. She’s too tight. 
You’re sinking into this long-chased dream. You’ve seen Hyeju walk around the dorm with no shorts on. Sometimes you're able to catch a glimpse of her bare ass when she dresses up in the dark. It’s normal when it’s with you, considering that your friendship transcends time, but she doesn’t know that yearning’s been put in your heart in those moments. You want her. You want Son Hyeju.
And now, she’s submitting herself to you. She’s given you her body, her tits, her pussy. Now she offers you an equally delicious choice: her supple ass that’s bouncy as it finally sits down completely on your lap. 
“Good daddies bounce their babygirls on their knees, right? Should’ve known that, dummy. So come on, pound me. It isn’t hard.”
Well, you are. Hyeju’s ass is constricting you yet you enjoy every second of it. Her tight little asshole clings to you as you do as she says. You’d do anything for Hyeju, and that doesn’t exclude engaging in anal sex with her.
Choose a rhythm to go by to enjoy the tightness Hyeju gives you to the fullest. She leans into you and hums quietly, lower lip worried between her teeth and ass steadily rising and resting. The flexes of your thigh also stimulate her needy pussy. Your knee brushes her clit steadily while your cock penetrates her asshole better than any toy could. Better than any boy would.
“Oh, that feels so good, daddy…” Hyeju murmurs. “Keep spreading me like that, yes.”
Just when she thought you’d switch to being gentle, your thrusts become sporadic. She can’t find which timings you’re going by. The calm before the storm, so to say. Hyeju’s whimpers and whines are your thunder, and they soon live up to their name when they grow louder, filling your ears as would the violent downpour of raindrops. 
“D-daddy, daddy, oh my god—” Pain partners up with pleasure in wrecking her hole. Darn you for reaching in front of her to rub her clit as well. Too many things are happening at the same time. “Daddy better make me cum, please, please—”
Your size fills the tight space of her ass so much that it’s difficult to move. The juices of her pussy that she’s used as makeshift lube can’t even do the job they’re assigned to. However, you don’t care about that. You simply fuck Hyeju’s fat, delectable ass like it’s been your long-term dream. In a way it is, but you’d be dreaming about it long after it’s already been fulfilled.
Hyeju stands up to take the lead and work her butt on you. You know she’s an excellent dancer but you never knew she could be this good at twerking either. 
“Holy shit, Hyeju, your little asshole feels amazing,” you moan. Spank her, though she’s undeserving of punishment when she’s amazing at using that ass.
“And your cock is so fucking big in my ass,” she says. “I don’t want anything else, daddy. Ohh, god, keep doing that.”
Her rear end bounces and claps together as they take in your fat cock. She looks back at you lustfully, watching you ruin her supple ass. Reach for her breasts to match the velocity of her thrusts. You’re two forces colliding, each filled with fire to defeat the other with pleasure. It’s a losing game when Hyeju’s ass is just as good as her pussy, which you continue playing with to bring her to orgasm.
“Good girl, Hye, keep bouncing that fat ass on daddy,” you whisper in her ear. Love to hear her weak little moans; they show you that she likes this as much as you do. Probably more. “You want to cum, right? You want to squirt on me again?”
“Yes, daddy, please!” Hyeju is in paradise although her skin feels like it’s been set on fire. She hasn’t felt this good before. “No other cock can do me the way you do, daddy, I’m all yours! Make me cum, cum inside me, daddy!”
You’ve changed her. She’s a totally different person outside of the bedroom. She hides her approval in sarcastic comments and teases you about them. How is it that she’s completely submissive and good for you? 
Your ego swells. Smack her pussy just enough to make her gasp. “Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours, daddy!” 
“And this ass?”
“It’s all yours, daddy,” sobs Hyeju. “Always so fucking big inside me, so much better, you need to make me cum—”
Pull her down to your lap then thrust inside her all while not letting an inch withdraw from her snug butthole. “Cum for me,” you say.
“Ohhhh fuck!” 
Hyeju begins her sexy body rolls again as a profane spray of clear liquid fires from her pussy. She’s so wet; when you rub her clit, a squelching sound is produced. She’s too turned on from the feeling of you savage pounding inside her. She slaps her own pussy to go along with your rubbing, then leads your fingers inside her cunt again. She’s still so tight. 
The combined feeling of two of her holes being violated has her tired. She could be murmuring a spell and you wouldn’t know because of how jumbled and jarred her words are. The syllables make out your name and title. At least, that’s what you could understand. It would take an experienced veteran transcriber to make sense of Hyeju’s sounds.
You blast her ass with so much cum that it overflows, like water threatening to spill from the brim of a glass. Your joined cores are so wet and sticky that neither of you feel like moving. You want to stay in the narrow yet pleasurable comfort of each other’s touch forever.
It’s so pleasant that you could only hear the gratifying sound of each other’s pants and not the knocks on your door.
So safe that you don’t hear the sound of a lock being skewered with because each other’s bodies are more homely than this dorm.
So distracting that when he comes in through the door and yells in disgust, it’s the first time you feel an awakening sobriety.
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lafox · 1 year
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Luis Sera Headcanon [Collab] SFW/NSFW
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Author note: hi everyone. I know it has been Ages but im back with a little gift for all of you and i collab with @sattiene my beloved <3 thank you so much for her input and help because it really helped me out get back in the mix of things. i really missed writing HC for characters soooooo ! My ask are now open! YEY!
anyways i'll let you enjoy this Hc!:
SFW HC: 
Meeting you for the first time in the events of the Las Plagas incident, the first thing he says to you is:
"I just have one important question. Do you have a smoke?"
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Manipulation through his puppy eyes. 
“Oye, Senorita. Mind a smoke?” *insta puppy eyes*
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Probably ‘almost’ fluent in French and would brag about it to you only (hmmm wonder why)
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Grows every so fond of you when you laugh off his flirting towards you.
But what made him fall in love even more was when you suddenly started to flirt back. 
He stutters, is flustered but quickly come back with another flirt (it's a war now)
One time, he was playing around with his lighter while walking, to which you added a remark:
“Hm.. Does this skill also apply in the bedroom?” You smirked. 
The man was shooken (idk this isn't a word) and closed his lighter shut.
He shook his head and chuckled,
“There is only one way to find out, ay?” He said looking back at you.
Oh boy…
-
He tries to lighten up the mood as Leon isn’t much of a jokester. 
And when you laugh at his jokes and Leon doesn't, he points it out:
“Ay, see Y/N likes my jokes.” 
-
If you are imprisoned, you bet your ass Luis is gonna be your knight in shining armor.
You’ll scream to whoever, to get you out when it’s Luis that peaks his head and saves you his only comment will be:
“Oh so that's what you sound like, hm?” 
Alternatively : You are captured and tied up unconscious. He is at your rescue once more and sees you tied up. He would whistle and look away for a minute, putting his fist close to his mouth before snapping out of it and helping you out.
When you wake you bet your ass he will hit you with the oldest pick up line to this day like:
"Oh chica. I've been told I look heavenly, but you're not in heaven yet."
-
Is it raining? No problem Luis is to the rescue:
“Where are my manners?” He says as he takes off his jacket and hovers it on top of your head.
-
Oh shit! A flight hatchet coming your way! But don't worry, again, Luis is at the  rescue,
Hugging you as he pushes both of you away and falls down.
Well now it's an awkward situation as you are now on top of him. You lift yourself to meet with Luis’ face closer than expected.
Of course he shots a flirtatious grin accompanied with his eyebrows raising up.
What he would do to get your attention or to be close to you i swear…
He is down bad for you that's for sure. 
-
It's impressive when you see Leon in action, a break at the shooting range is always a great pause for everyone, which helps make Luis and you grow closer.
But the music made your feet tap to the beat and that, Luis noticed. 
He gently grabbed your hand, waiting a few seconds to know if he was denied and when you didn’t reject his advance, dragged you to dance.
You giggled, you weren’t much of a dancer but the beat was so good and the moment was so right, it made you become one. 
That was when you were charmed by him.
-
When you get separated, Luis will call you on the radio any chance he gets.
“Hola. Aaah I'm glad you picked up princesa. I’m at the ballroom, come over. We can continue our little dance. Don’t be late to the party!”
When you are a bit more separate from Leon and Ashley, you call Luis and you guys chat
“How's your search? Are you okay so far?” you asked. “Always so worried for me, lindura~” “I miss you too don’t worry” He adds. 
-
He would scare you by hugging you from behind
Which ultimately ends in you pointing your gun at him
"Whoa whoa, cariño. chill. it's just me, your loverboy."
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Would take pictures of you on his flip phone but the pictures are some of the worst moments of you looking surprised, zoning out, or sweaty with dirt on your face cause you were almost killed by a villager. 
You ask him to delete it but nah this man puts it as his wallpaper and keeps it forever.
-
If you are infected with las Plagas, he becomes serious
Will still be flirtatious to calm his own anxiety
At the operation table, will hold your hand while killing the plaga
Would turn his head away as it is agony for him to hear you scream in pain
"I know, I know bebe. I'm here. shhh, shh,"
Let a tear fall and wipes it after the operation finish
Man, he thought he lost you!
-
But enough heart breaks!
The man is clingy! He loves you so much he always want you close
For example; you want to make breakfast for the both of you in the morning but no no no you are not escaping with his arms wrapped around your waist
"Nooooo, mi amor, stay," He whines in his morning voice.
Will be hugging you from behind while you cook breakfast. 
You can feel his stubble tickling your neck
Everything is perfect.
-
The embodiment of chivalry
Opens doors for you, pushes your seat for you allllll the time.
NSFW HC
He is loud and not scared to be
Moan, groans, whimpers, yeah you are getting the whole service.
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Service top/ dom
Mutters some Spanish when he is really really into it.
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His foreplay is insane the man is a teaser;
Hand on your thigh just slowly but surely making his way through your core as he kisses your neck and tells you sweet nothing. (how could it not melt to that!)
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You are always his top priority
Can go on for hour for your pleasure only (pls don’t make him pass out i beg you)
Cracks jokes if you are anxious, just to see you smile and relax, that’s already a win for him.
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Mf does the petal of roses on the bed thingy on the special occasion (with scented candles ofc!)
Nice dinners and dancing before a night of love.
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Sex isn't a shameful topic to him and will tease about it.
If you tease him back about his  performance he will backfire at you, its constant banter!
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Weakness for lace in lingerie: He would fall weak if he slowly discovered you are wearing a set of lingerie while he takes off your clothes
“You wore this for me cariño.” and also will have his puppy eyes activated.
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Would brag about you all the time and show that you are his girl as he marks you
He loves when you mark him, telling him you are his and that he is yours.
Covered with your lipstick is so hot to him, shows how much you love him.
Takes pictures of all the above
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His biggest turn on? When you ride him. 
Holy fuck does he love it so much, just digging his hands on your thighs and trusting at the same beat as your riding makes him melt.
You taste heavenly to him and he loves to eat you out
Face riding? Yes please!
Makes him so horny you bet that shit makes him precum.
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Type of guy to continue slowly thrusting in when done cause God Damn you feel good, he doesn’t want it to end!
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Not into the harcord stuff like BDSM and such but would be willing to try for you
“So you’re into that stuff ay..” 
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His favorite positions are any where he can see your beautiful face
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He will never call you names like ‘slut’ and stuff “that's not a gentlemen’s ways”
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You tried your best to please him first but Luis can’t hear any of that: “Ladies first” kinda treatment 
“Why don’t we switch it up tonight, let me start with you~” you said as you pressed your fingertips on his pecks, going ever so slowly down.
He shook his head as he chuckled. “You know my policy mi amor” He takes your hand to wrap in around his neck as he positions you on your back while kissing you
I mean, you can’t resist him. 
-
First time he makes you squirt, the man will be so proud of himself
Will use that fact against you in arguments: “didn’t you gush all over me last night?? yeah that’s what i thought.” 
With a smug ofc 
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Tell you how beautiful you are especially while making you cum
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Best aftercare, hugs, kisses, shower, and caresses.
The man Orders you to stay put when he cleans up, its “his mess not yours”
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sugawhaaa · 3 months
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hi!! i just read your skz reaction abt their s/o being insecure abt their body,, and i was wondering if you could do that same thing for piwon??
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!!P1harmony reaction!!
Your insecure about your body
Warnings:: talking about body types and insecurities, the hyung line are the only smutish ones (obviously I'm not crazy)
Genre::fingering, doggy style (theo) blow job (jiung) oral f/receive (intak) hickeys (soul)
A/N:: sorry theos is rlly personal 😭 I have a hideous birthmark on my lower back and I've been insecure about it since I was like 5. I've grown out of the insecurity for the most part but it just went along with the fanfic too good. And once again sorry some are longer than others I'm trying not to be biased but sometimes the stories change the length of the one-shot ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡
⭐️KEEHO⭐️
(Body hair)
You sat on the side of the pool with a summer hat, sunglasses, and a cover-up that hid your entire body. Not a single speck of skin could be seen from a considerable distance. Keeho in the pool swam over to you and put his arms up on the side of the pool.
"Why did you come if you're not gonna swim?" Keeho asked half genuine half teasing. You scowled at him. "Oh is it that time of the month?" He asked genuinely in a low voice.
"No," you shook your head and took off your sunglasses. The bright summer sun lit up Keehos face.
"What is it? If your shy there's no need to be. It's just me and the members," he put a hand to your thigh and you bit the inside of your lip.
"The party was just so sudden I didn't have time to shave," you explained as you looked at the water. You looked back at keeho to see his eyebrow raised.
"I get that you're insecure about that...but c'mon baby, you know no one here cares, and even I have body hair pretty much everywhere," he explained as he gestured to his body. He hopped up on the side of the pool with you.
"But your a man," you explained and you could see Keehos blood boil at your words.
"Listen. I don't give two flying French fucks if you have body hair, man or woman. It's natural okay?" He explained and you finally heard him out. He put his hand around your waist before leaning in to kiss you. Soul then sprayed Keeho with a water gun. Keeho shot a glare at him before turning back to you. "If you don't want to swim that is okay. But me and all the member would love for you to join us," he smiled before getting back in the pool and attacking soul.
You thought carefully about Keeho's words and caved in. You took off your hat and cover-up and set it on a bench on the deck. You jumped in the pool with a splash and Keeho smiled at you from the other side of the pool while drowning Soul.
🌹THEO🌹
(Body hair, scars, acne, birthmark)
Theo looked at you with a small grin as you panted on the bed, tired from your past orgasm. Theo sat beside you playing with your hair with his fingers that were not covered in your arousal. "Hey baby, I had an idea," he said in a soft, low voice. You look up at him waiting for him to continue. "How about we try a new position? Doggy style?" He proposes with a light smile. You are just about to say yes before stopping yourself. He'd see your back the whole time and your back is not a pretty sight. Lots of hair and pimples plus the worst of all an ugly hairy birthmark.
"Sure just let me get my shirt," you said leaning for your shirt on the end of the bed. Theo grabbed your wrist.
"Why?" He looked at you with a serious expression but his eyes were soft and twinkling.
"Uhm..." you had to quickly come up with an excuse on the spot. "People say it makes it more pleasurable," you lied with pink cheeks. Theo raised his eyebrow at you.
"What's the real reason?" He asked with a light smirk, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.
"Fine, I'm insecure about my back," you explained looking at his hand. Theo was taken aback. He let go of your hand but you didn't reach for your shirt.
"Why? Is it because of that birthmark?" He asked in an unimpressed tone. You nodded and Taeyang sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you I don't care," he pulled you onto his lap. "All I care about is hearing your desperate moans as I pound into you," he whispers in your ear and the butterflies in your stomach fly down south. "Harder Theo ~" he says mimicking your voice in a whisper. "The way you beg for me and my cock. You're just so obsessed with how good I make you feel~" Theo continues to whisper in your ear and your face turns red. "So what will it be? Will you let your insecurities win and I don't get to fuck you up, or you let me win and I make you see stars~?"
🍪JIUNG🍪
(Glasses)
You finally had Jiung right where you wanted him. On the bed, his back against the headrest, and his dick standing straight up. You wrapped your hand around his length and looked up at him. One of his eyes squinted shut as he looked down at you. You thought for a moment.
You wanted to give him a blow job but your glasses would get in the way, they're so big and would slip off your face if you bobbed your head but you also want to see Jiungs face and reactions. Jiung noticed your thinking face and patted your head drawing your attention. "Something wrong baby?" He asked in a sweet voice.
"I don't like my glasses. They're ugly and get in the way. I can't even give you a blowjob," you sigh and put your hand to your chin. Jiung chuckles before gently tucking some loose hair behind your ear.
"Your glasses are adorable," Jiung smiled. "And don't worry about going too fast so your glasses slip off. It's fine, take a nice pace, and don't worry about me, I'm sure it'll feel good," Jiung smiles with his eyes. You think before smiling back at him. He always knows just what to say to make you feel better. "Plus when I cum it won't get in your eyes," Jiung laughs and you slip your lips over his tip. Jiung whimpers and covers his mouth. "Fuck that's good," he smirks.
🍓INTAK🍓
(Going down on you but you say no bc u didn't shave)
Intak pouts at you when you refuse. "Please~ you always like it so much when I eat you out why are you saying no all of the sudden?" He asks with doe eyes. "Are you on your period?" He asks as he looks between your legs at your underwear to see if there's a string or pad.
"No!" You laugh and close your legs.
"Then what wrong?" He asked sincerely, looking up at you eagerly.
"It's just...I didn't shave there yet. I was going to yesterday but I ran out of time and-" you explained but Intak cut you off.
"How many times do I have to explain I don't care! If anything I like it better when you don't shave. I get to bury my face in your little pussy," he said with a smile as if he was talking about puppies or something cute. You blush and shake your head.
"But isn't it uncomfortable?" You look away and close your legs. Intak sighs before opening your legs again.
"No, now let me eat you out~!" He whined and you finally complied. You kept your legs open as he slid off your panties. He did as he said and buried his face into your folds, attacking your clit. You arched your back and grab his hair. He pulled back and smiled. "See it's not all that bad," he smirked.
🎀SOUL🎀
(Lips/mouth)
There's no doubt that you probably have the most innocent and cute-looking boyfriend ever but he doesn't always act like that with the girl he is head over heels for. He was lying on top of you as you played animal crossing on your switch. He noticed your low-cut shirt, his cheeks dusted pink. He hesitantly leaned down and kissed your chest, leaving a small purple hickey. You whimper very softly and looked down at him.
"What are you doing?" You whisper. You don't want his parents to hear during your first visit to his house. Instead of replying, he kissed your neck, sucking on your skin hard. You whimpered softly and sat down your switch. You put your hand on his head, feeling his soft blue and blond hair. "Shota..." you said softly as your face grew hot.
Soul grinned as he backed away from your neck. He leaned into your lips and you planned on just giving him a peck on the lips but he wanted more. He tried to turn it into a make out session but you put your hands on his chest and pull away. Soul instantly apologizes.
"I'm sorry did I take it too far?" He says softly with sympathetic eyes. You held your fingertips to your lips. You shake your head.
"No, it's just..." you look at him and he seems curious as to what you'll say. "I'm just kinda insecure about my lips and my kissing abilities," you chuckle and Soul tilts his head.
"How are you insecure? Like I mean your lips are plump and..." he blushes as he stares at your lips, "and I mean skill level doesn't matter, it's just how you feel," he smiles and you can't help but giggle at his innocence.
"My lips are always chapped and I often forget to brush my teeth and tongue," you explain and soul chuckles.
"My teeth are far from perfect either," he smiles and shows his crooked teeth. "And my lips are always cracking," he explains as he runs his fingers along his lips. "But I still give you hickeys with these teeth and I still kiss you with my lips," he smiles. "Because it feels good, it makes me happy," Soul grins as he hugs you. You think for a moment taking in his words. "So, do you want to feel happy or leave it as is?" He asks eagerly.
You kiss his forehead and he blushes. You smile at him before kissing him, his tongue sliding into your mouth. You moan softly into the kiss. He then bites your lip and tugs on it before letting go.
"Feels good doesn't it~?"
🍒JONGSEOB🍒
(Flat chest)
Your prepping for a date with your boyfriend. You look at yourself in your mirror and put a lip gloss on your lips. Jongseob quietly opens the door a bit watching you get ready. You have some music playing and you hum along as you put mascara on your lashes and curl them. You start singing along and Jongseob smiles as he admires you and your singing.
You brush your hair one final time before looking at yourself in the mirror. You turn to look at yourself from the side, your chest is still as flat as ever. You sigh and run your hand along your body. You adjusted your bra trying to make your chest appear bigger. Jongseob looked confused and continued to watch you. You put your hands on your hips with a grumble. You put in some bigger pads to your bra to make it look more full but it still doesn't look right. That's when Jongseob knocks on the door and you turn around. His elbow on the door frame as you look at him.
"Can I come in?" He asks as if he wasn't already basically standing in your room. You sigh and nod. He walks in and closes the door. He sits on the edge of your bed. "Do you think I don't notice?" He asks with his arms crossed.
"Well, you're supposed to notice!" You raise your voice but Jongseob is unbothered. "I do it so I seem hotter! To enhance my feminine features, make you like me more, make butterflies in your stomach go wild," you explain but Jongseob continues to go unbothered. You step closer to him. "What do you think all of this is for!?" You grab your concealer and gesture to it aggressively. Once you are finally close enough Jongseob kisses you. You're taken aback and fumble over your feet. Jongseob pulls back from the kiss and looks at you with doe eyes.
"That kiss was for you. Not your make up, not your height, not your hairstyle or color, not for how big or small your ass is, not for your chest, it was for you. My girlfriend," he stated before smiling and you look down at him surprised. "Here, why don't we wash up, change into our pajamas, and cuddle up and watch a movie?" He says as he caresses your cheek. You think for a moment before sighing.
"Your right..." you look at the floor before smiling at him. Jongseob smiles back and you can't help but laugh.
"Why are you laughing?" He asks pretending to be mad.
"Ever since you kissed me my lipsticks been on your lips," you laugh and Jongseob looks at you surprised before wiping his lips. He looks at his hand to see glittery lipgloss and pink lipstick.
"Why didn't you say anything!"
"Because you were being so serious!" You laugh.
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whorrorbellee · 3 months
Text
STEVE HARRINGTON MUST DIE
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Its been a year since someone spread a rumour to you school that you've sucked off half the football team in one night. one year of catcalls, one year of graffitied lockers and bullying, so when you find out his majesty king Steve is behind the rumour its time to take drastic action against him. King!Steve x reader
chapter one:
SLUT is written haphazardly across your locker, the sharpie is smeared unevenly and you spit into a tissue hopping it takes even a little bit of the black ink off, your going to kill who ever keeps doing this, your promise you will, well maybe not kill, maybe throw a milkshake over them or paint on their car. 
It's the fourth time this month and you grimace as the janitor moves you out the way  taking a jar of rubbing alcohol to remove the lovely compliment across your locker, at least it wasn't the sherbet candy like last time, poured in through the crack of the door with spray with perfume, all over your fucking shoes, they stuck the the ground for a week. 
Eddie leans across the locker next to you and smiles. “ they spelt it right this time” you smile remembering the backwards ‘s’ and extra ‘e’ 
“Idk i kinda like slute , felt french, come on freak were going to be late for art” 
“Okay wench” 
That's what you liked about Eddie, his light heartedness towards the shit you got from the cool preppy kids, it didn't matter if they insulted him or you for that matter, words were just words at the end of the day. But anything more and you'd both throw a punch for each other. 
You sit next to each other at the back of class and paint. Eddies drawing some kind of monster with a head and jaws unhinged a Demogorgan? You don't bother to learn the name, apart from the fact he is totally obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons. You usually gossip or talk about music, mainly the music for your band. “Satanic panic” formed after the christian hate of all things nerdy. 
Watched the exorcist movie? Liked a Metallica song? Took out a Stephen King novel from the library? Or do you carry a crystal around in your bag? Well bad news kids you're a satanist you've been possessed by the devil ! Come join the local gay hating church where we rid you of sins and put you in pressed yellow shirts and blue slacks, your sins will all be but forgotten!
“Are you coming to steves tonight?” Eddie grins, he shades in the mouth area as you collage words from the newspaper on to the cast of Baywatch. 
“Yeah of course! I love watching the popular kids get drunk and embarrass themselves” you look over to Tommy and Carol sitting at the table next to you, there with other kids you don't remember the names of carbon copies of whatever stars have been making the rounds on MTV. 
‘Ricks got the shit stuff in again but I'm gonna say it's skunk, you know ?” 
"Good idea, saving the good shit for us huh?” 
He laughs at you, and you gaze at the popular table, carols missing and then something splashes over the table and your hair is all wet , it drips off your face and stains your work and the table a dark red, you look up at her and she winces. 
“Oh I'm so sorry” she pouts and then laughter fills the room. Eddie looks at you with concern, gripping at your arm to stop you from throwing a punch, you wipe your hair and grasp at her shoulder  “it's okay i get it its a mistake” you smile and take your hand away leaving a red stain on her white cashmere jumper. 
‘Oh im so sorry” you fake wince as if you didn't mean too and then you stand. You tower over her by two inches in your boots smiling as you walk away. 
You roll your eyes in the corridor, going to your locker to grab an extra shirt. 
You blindly pull yourself into the bathroom and witness the mess your left with, dark paint water stains your face like blood, your hair is a sopping mess and the shirt you have on its covered in lumps of paint, you shed the shirt leaving it on the floor before rinsing your hair and face under the sink, then your grab some tissue and rub at your forehead where the acrylic has started to dry. The door swings open and foot steps approach you. 
“You're in the boys bathroom” 
You turn your head under the sink to look at whoever has approached, it's the almighty, King Steve . Your eyes widen and you glance over the urinals in the mirror. 
“Fuck” you squeeze the water out of your hair and rinse your hands quickly. Grabbing your shirt off the floor, you turn to exit. Steve grabs your arm and stops you. 
“You're not wearing a shirt,” he grins and you look down at your chest, lacy black bralette covering you. 
You look into his eyes as you shove the clean shirt on. He takes a piece of tissue and wipes the red from around your eyes. 
“your pretty when you're not being mean”
You snatch the tissue out of his hand and throw it in the bin as you swing the door open.
“Asswipe”
“Slut!” he shouts at you, as you flick the middle finger towards him.
“He's kinda an asshole” Eddie sips his beer, hand wet with condensation, the paper label is already peeling. 
“Who, Billy?” you gaze at the glorified Calvin Klein model of a high-schooler, his button up is undone and the crowd of girls are screaming as he does another body shot off sweaty tanned skin. He winks as he catches your gaze, licking his lips and gesturing  you over your face shrivels up in disgust , shaking your head a very clear no.
“No, Steve” he mutters.
And then you glance at  Steve. He leans over another senior high-schooler, glancing down into her eyes and you can tell that her legs are just about to wobble in anticipation. Her hair falls into her face and he pushes it behind her ear, calculated. She swoons and blushes hiding her face in her hands and then he pulls them away and says something. Whatever that is, it's enough because she's grasping at his striped shirt. Steve notices that he's being stared at and he meets your eyes, his hand waves and you scoff into your beer, eyes squinting. 
You tuck your now clean hair behind your ear, “He's a slut yeah, he's not as bad as the others.” Your head cocks to the side as you ponder. You're standing in Steve's house, against the white wall, eddies made about 200 hundred dollars in the past hour from selling coke and weed to the local crowd, he doesn't tell you this but he always sneaks a twenty into your pocket before you leave.
“He broke Jonathan's camera like last year.” 
“Okay but in his defence! I heard from Julie who heard from Carol that he was taking photos of that sophomore Nancy getting undressed, hiding in a bush”  
“He's a bully, he plays around with girls hearts and he only invites us because i sell drugs” 
“Okay so he's an asshole, but he's only ever called me a few names” you shrug sipping you beer as you look over to Eddie, his mohawk has nearly grown out from his punk stage and now he rocks a greasy mullet, his curls tucked behind his ears, you're happy you convinced him to not dye his hair pink, telling him he would get half as many girls as he already did, putting him into the negatives. 
Eddie’s head looks down, his hand bushing back the tiny curls around his forehead.“Oh fuck-okay! Please don't kill me” he put his hands up in defence.
“Spit it out Munson”
“He's the one that started to the rumour that you sucked off half the football team last year”
You clench your teeth, squinting at Eddie before hitting the upside of his head. 
“What the fuck Eddie you didnt think to tell me ? I was blaming Heather the whole time, I'm gonna go over there” your back parts the wall quickly in a fit of rage before Eddie's hand grabs your arm back and you meet the wall again.
“Don't fight him,Jesus!”
You clench your fists.
“Eddie, people still call me a slut, you know what happened today and I was told if I get one more mark on my locker I have to pay to get it painted over.” 
Eddie sighs, staring at you as his eyebrows raise. "starting a fight with Steves not even gonna work, he wouldn't hit you, you're a girl”
“But you could” you smile “He's put me through hell for a year, all because of a stupid rumour.”
“If i hit the guy i lose business, look don't do anything drastic, please”
You smile at Eddie, it's mischievous, the smile takes up your whole face, your eyes are alert and you laugh to yourself. 
“For fucks sake, Go on” he asks intrigued, eyes rolling.
“Okay, you make a bet with Steve"
“What bet?” 
“Something like, i won't date him or say i love you, and then he gains a guilty conscious and tells me it's all a bet because he really likes me, and i tell him oh i knew the whole time, and hes like devastated bcs i was in on it and i don't like him”
“All because he told the school you're a cocksucker, what if he tells you I made a bet?” 
You look at him in the eye and nod “for all the girls he's ever treated like shit Eddie, like really teach him a lesson, make that asshole think he can't do whatever he wants, you said it yourself, he's an asshole, besides he's not gonna tell me if there's something he can get out of it, Men like games” 
“That's horrid and insane.” he smiles.
“What can I say, I'm a feminist”
Eddie sighs, and then laughs, “okay” 
“Really? Oh my god, okay, I'm gonna go out for a joint, act really drunk tell him i hate him and then make the bet , and hit on the girl so she leaves or whatever”
Eddie slaps his face, shaking his hair and then chugs down the beer, he smiles and you watch him head over, you give Steve a dirty look, turn and head outside passing Billy's half naked body pouring shots. 
There's a slight chill in the air, it's not warm enough for people to get in the pool this time of year so you watch couples hunching together on lawn chairs with blankets wrapped around each other. You glance over your shoulder, seeing Eddie point at you through the glass doors and then you catch Steve's eye, you play it coy. Lighting your joint and looking him up and down. You face the pool again. Wrapping your bomber jacket around yourself as the wind hits your face. 
“Brought you a blanket.” you feel something get wrapped around your shoulders and you hide your smile. Looking up at Steve, he's just about six feet. 
“Thanks” you say nodding. Inhaling your joint and blowing the smoke out directly on his face. 
His eyes gaze up and down at yours and he leans against the wooden railing of the decking. 
“Parties huh.” he sighs looking off into the distance one hand smoothing his hair back.
There's a pause “Oh! You don't like them?” you ponder, eyebrows raising. You hear the beat of the Bangles behind you, and a smashing of glass.
“Not really, but you know, gotta make appearances.” he shrugs.
“This is your house, Steve, you invited everyone” you laugh.
He looks at you, head cocking to the side and then he grabs your hand, his thumb rubbing softly against your palm. “yeah” he bites his bottom lip. And you blink through your lashes at him. 
He takes your joint from your hand, breathing it in and then he just walks away. And you're utterly confused, you look at Eddie through the glass door who puts his hands up questioning and you shake your head confused eyebrows furrowed and robbed of half a joint, blanket hanging off your shoulder.
What the fuck.
“So I told him, you like to hate his guts” Eddie grunts, hand against the wheel of his beat up van, he inhales his cigarette and throws it out the window with ease “and he laughed like actually laughed and then said, No one hates me, this will be easy and I was like oh yeah wanna make a bet? and then he was like her?! Easiest three five of my life!" and then he left.” 
“Wow, Dick oh I can't wait to ruin his little life. Rich cunt” you smile as Eddie pulls into the trailer park, parking at his trailer. He looks at you, sprawled across the car seat, your legs pulled up on the chair to avoid getting beer and fast food all over your white shoes.
“Well, what did he say?”he asks.
‘Oh shit! yeah, urm he said he has to make appearances at parties” you bunny ear at the sentence, laughing “and then i was like Steve this is your house, and he grabbed my hand and looked me in the eyes for like a minute, stole my joint and just walked off ? I’m so confused” You push your hair back out your face, snatching your bag up from the seat. “can i stay over tonight i way too high to drive home” you ask. 
‘You know you don't have to ask, just be quiet, Wayne's sleeping.” he pats your thigh.
continue on
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lana-llama-in-pajamas · 2 months
Text
thick as blood
sweet as milk
pt.3
you woke up sore and oddly over heated, you opened your eyes to see something a 12 year old boy would dream up both the twins cuddled up to you arms hugging you close, you looked down to see you were in a nightgown and they were in slips they possibly wore under their dresses from last night. Els leg was wrapped in cellophane probably fearful of the wound bleeding through you smiled softly looking up at your ceiling hearing their breathing synced together, the smell of their French perfumes with the combination of sweat was actually pretty calming (damn twins are in your bed even before Francis 💀)
you closed your eyes again wanting to catch a bit more rest before getting up for the day, what felt like minutes was actually an hour. you woke up again with the twins gone, you got up rubbing your eyes walking out to the living room hearing talking "you think she's even eaten a meal a day?" a deeper feminine voice asked it wasn't the twins " I don't think you could call bread and jam a meal" another voice said, you peeked in the kitchen to see the twins, mia and gloria all in the kitchen. gloria cooking on the stove as mia and sel unpacked groceries putting them in the proper places, elenois sat at the window mixing something in a bowl. you felt so cared for, your pain from your injuries disappearing for a second, you got caught by mia who walked over with selenne "your awake! so sorry we let ourselves in dear" mia hugged you gently before selenne wrapped her arm around your shoulders "you should go shower we're making brunch" you nodded "no worries miss stone but please send me the receipt for the food" you spoke softly realizing your voice was still strained "oh don't insult me y/n I'm not hurting for money, now go get cleaned up I'm gonna make some tea" she pushed you to the bathroom making selenne giggle walking back to the kitchen
you did strip yourself of your slip and bandages examining yourself in the mirror, bruises kissed your body with indents of the stairs in your back. the memory of the creatures claws ran across your legs with your ankle matching Elenois, it was lightly scarred so you washed yourself gently hissing anytime you had to bend down. you left the shower walking back to your room to change, the girls brought out the table into the living room filling it foods and spare plates, you changed into something less formal putting on some music to lighten your mood
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everyone gathered in the livingroom, sitting and passing plates as gloria sat near you looking over your vinyls ¨you do got some bad bruises baby¨ she gently grabbed your arm looking it over, you hissed a little making her let go ¨sorry baby¨ she handed the first loaded plate to you ¨come sit and eat, we know damn well you havent had a vegtable since you came in¨ you smiled thanking the sweet woman trying your best to be polite while eating but she was right you were starving, honestly its a miracle you were able to fight the equivelent of a animal on bread, fruit jam and milk alone. everyone ate and talked as gloria filled your plate to replace what you had ate whispering ¨your in your home, eat with the hunger you have¨ hearing that had you eating mouthfuls only listening to the conversation instead ¨natcha and her little one wouldve come but natcha didnt want her to overwhelm you with questions¨ mia said to you ¨she got you and the twins flowers though¨ you nodded finishing your 2nd plate ¨ill need to send her a thank you note soon¨ everyone nodded in agreement as a knock was heard at the door, you got up wiping your mouth opening it slowly to show most of the men ¨honey i thought you were at work¨ gloria asked as everyone walked over ¨i was but im on lunch, here you go miss l/n your one courageous little lady¨ arnold passed you a small bouquet and kissed his wife good bye then one after another your other neighbors gave you gifts of gratitude, even lois margeret and raftellyn came in with food n flowers low key inviting themselves in.
at the very end natasha came and held up a tin tray to you ¨my mom is at work but she made this for you or whatever¨ you smiled taking the tray and placing on on the table with everything else ¨your mom does so much tell her thank you for me¨ you bent down to talk with her ¨....yeah ok.....did it bite you? are you infected with something? my mom said you saved us and killed it or whatever, does that mean your a murderer or a monster killer?¨ she kept asking things making your head swim but luckily you had a savior ¨she's a monster killer. a hero little Natasha.¨ Francis said sternly also holding a gift in his hands ¨oooh ok....whatever bye hero lady¨ she said waving and walking out ¨here Natasha take a plate¨ mia walked over leading her back to her door ¨uh....um thank you ¨ you looked up blushing ¨for?¨ he asked putting down the basket of fruit and wine bottle in his hands ¨err...uh everything, carrying me, bringing me this¨ you gestured to the basket ¨telling the little one I'm a hero..¨ you looked down intimidated by his hard gaze ¨those gifts are from the DDD. I didn't get the memo we were making your apartment a floral shop.¨ it almost sounded like a joke but he said it so blankly with irritation ¨oh well would you like a pla-¨ ¨you didn't get her something?¨ Margarette said loudly ¨for shame young man she pulled a gun out what could you pull? a bottle of milk?¨ she laughed as the others giggled uncomfortably ¨like I said I didn't get the memo. but I will show my gratitude¨ you turned beet red wondering what he meant by this, the twins felt your forehead ¨you should sit, Francis please help yourself¨ they brought you back to the couch as Francis followed Lois made him a plate and sat right by him ¨aside from this loud mouth, I didn't know you had those types of muscles Francis" god you were uncomfy now "i carry crates of milk i think its self explanatory" he shot back making Lois flustered by the full stop, at this point you weren't sure if Natasha was his, it seems like he doesn't have a filter...or feelings.
soon the awkward feelings subsided and everyone talked about their jobs, marriage and mia's and the dr's wedding plans.
you were in the kitchen looking over your gifts, mostly flowers and chocolate but it seems the Dr. got you a jewelry set, and so did the cappuccin's. the flowers came with cards you read and stacked together, one stuck out to you .
the fruits basket and wine.
it was champagne and fancy fruits (just to set the scene mangos and kiwis were considered 'exotic' in this era) you read the card
dear y/n you did well, enjoy your week off. another agent will take your place so don't let your guard down completely but do relax. rex
you smiled grabbing 2 vases of flowers wondering where to put them. Francis put his plate in the sink staring at you as he leaned against it "...you know who also hasn't gifted you anything....Gauss" he spoke lowly, was he...talking gossip? "why do you think?" you entertained him preening one of the flowers "he feels emasculated. since he isn't the American hero he's pissed" he chuckled making you shiver a little, it made sense though gauss seemed the macho type but that didn't matter , it was the way he said 'American hero' it was very accented "are you not emasculated by me Francis?" you asked walking closer to him even if your knees started to feel like jelly with every step "not at all, i was raised by strong women." he looked down at your level as you could breath in his cologne, strong sweet and alcohol like. " Francis i wonder a lot of things about you" you spoke truthfully like his eyes pulled it out of you "i am a book y/n, you just have to open it and read" his face was so close to yours.
you were swooning, eyes fluttering as you could almost imagine his lips on yours. his cologne was like a drug putting you under, you were in a full day dream before hearing another dark quiet laugh "how unbecoming of you...you know so little about me and yet your ready to throw yourself at me" he held up your chin with his hand as if you were a dog.
he walked away excusing himself to everyone before walking out
you shuddered taking a deep breath hoping to smell him one last time "he teased me....the bastard teased me and left."
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im sorrry it tookk so looooongg!!! but here it is my loves enjoy!!! let me know if you like or hate (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
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flashbangstars · 4 months
Text
How People Found out you two were dating
NCT Dream Edition
pink ~ y/n
Blue ~ dream
Green ~ secondary character/another dreamie
Mark
"so um Jeno found out about us dating"
"oh, I thought we were waiting until game night to tell them"
"well yeah uh funny story, I tried to put my sweatshirt on at Jeno's house and your hot pink thong fell out of the sleeve onto his carpet."
"I WAS WONDERING WHERE THAT WENT"
"Yeah I know me too, besides that. Jeno got mad and lectured me on not leading you on if I had other girls I was doing stuff with, so I uh.."
"you told Jeno the hot pink thong was mine"
"yeah basically"
"and I have to face him on friday knowing he's seen my panties"
"to be fair he did say they were cute"
"you know that actually didn't help at all"
Renjun
"hey babe can you help me really quickly, I need help moving my monitor, the cord is stuck somewhere behind my desk"
"Y/n can it wait like 10 minutes"
"No it literally can't I have a assignment due in thirty minutes and I will literally jump off a fucking cliff if I don't get full credit for this"
"Nice Hello Kitty Underwear"
"Renjun you're the one who bought me these, you've seen them and taken them off me numerous times"
"oh he has!! has he!"
"go put some pants on please sweetheart"
"I'm so fucking terrified why were their two different voices just now"
"Hi y/n"
"I'm gonna start crying please tell me Jaemin didn't just see me in fucking hello kitty underwear"
"Y/n please go put some pants on"
"yeah....yeah I'll go do that...... Uh just so you know....im not letting him hit for free.....he did ask me out"
"congrats to the happy couple"
"fuck you"
Jeno
"so how did you all manage to fail the same test?"
"I cheated off of Haechan, and Haechan Cheated off of Jaemin, so its basically Jaemin's fault"
"hey I thought Jaemin knew what he was doing"
"Haechan, Jaemin never knows what he is doing"
"fair"
"oh fuck, I have to go babe I'm gonna miss the bus if I dont run, I will see you soon" *phatass smooch before leaving* *leaves*
5 minutes later....
"alright I'm back I missed the bus"
"DID YALL JUST FUCKING KISS?"
"....no"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO I FUCKING WATCHED IT HAPPEN"
"oh thats so crazy I think I just heard the bus, I have to go omg byeeeeee"
"so you're leaving me to deal with this"
"yes, bye pookie, smooches I'll see you later tonight, bye Haechan!"
Haechan
"are we gonna talk about it... or should I just ignore it"
"ignore what"
"im not following"
"are you two being serious"
"dude what the fuck are you talking about??"
"Haechan."
"what"
"you've been sitting in y/n's lap the entire time we've been here"
"and...?"
"we are literally just close friends"
"dog you are literally hand feeding haechan french fries"
"im literally baby"
"even that was a lot for me"
"im sorry pookie"
"allllriight get off, I wont be this couple"
"pookie did you just make it official!"
"can you please be normal"
Jaemin
"Hypothetically what do you guys consider too much for a gift for your significant other"
"well how long would you two have been dating"
"like 6 months...?"
"umm anything ring related, thats kinda scary, too reminiscent of marriage"
"well fuck"
"what do you mean oh fuck? what the fuck did you buy"
"a ring"
"what"
"what...."
"for who??"
"y/n"
"WHAT"
"Y/N?"
"WHY?"
"YOU'VE BEEN DATING FOR 6 MONTHS?"
"STOP YELLING AT ME"
Chenle
"the guys know you and me are dating"
"what? how"
"I got in trouble"
"what did you do..."
"they all got kinda mad at me and said I was kinda mean to you and asked what my issue with you was"
"and what did you say"
"please don't be mad"
"chenle"
"I told them not to worry because you think it's hot when I'm kinda mean"
"chenle"
they didn't believe me at first... and I was feeling pressured!...they literally cornered me!"
"chenle"
"so I showed them a little bit of our texts when you said...itwassexy whenIwasmeantoyou"
"run"
"I WILL TELL THEM ABOUT THE MOMMY KINK IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER?"
"run. now"
"ok!"
Jisung
"hey guys, just wanted to let you know me and jisung are dating now officially"
*shriek* "WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!"
"Jisung what..."
"I DONT EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE"
"jisung park"
"please ma'am stop spreading that!"
"ANDY"
"I'm so sorry guys I dont know whats gotten into her!"
"jisung...She's literally your lockscreen"
"I literally have no idea what you are talking about"
"jisung I WILL do a coochie ban"
"this is actually bae 4 lyfe, she my day one and I worship the ground she walk on fr"
"thats what I thought"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Hi! here is a little something from the drafts that is basically finished, I hope you like it! I am fr just getting back into writing so excuse any errors. But i hope yall have a good night/day!
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cumulo-stratus · 9 months
Text
Communication Issues
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(GIF NOT MINE)
Plantonic!BAU team x french!reader
Description: reader is from France and lived there until he was 11/12 and then moved to america and his first language is french. He also has a little bit of an accent. Basically reader is new to the team and it is their first late night back home on the jet with him. And basically they learn that when hes tired he reverts back to his mother tongue.
CW: possible swearing, I can't think of anything else
A/N: I'm thinking of making a series about this, like just funny scenarios related to the reader being French, if y'all have any ideas let me know! Also reader is gonna be loosely based off me when im rly tired cus i get kinda giggly/floppy/goofy. ( also sry it's short)
French, translation
3rd person POV:
after a hard, and long case the team was very ready to go home. They had found a 9 yr old girl and rescued her from a man holding her in his basement to torture her. And even though it took the profilers almost 3 full days with almost no sleep to find her. To say they were tired was understatement. It was almost 2 am when they trudged onto the plane, all tired physically and emotionally. Y/N was the last on the plane and decided to take the couch to get some sleep. Just as he was sitting down Reid plopped down next to him. (Y/N and Reid liked to sit next to each other so they could read together)
“Désolé reid, je veux lire avec toi, mais je suis trop fatigué pour ça” (sorry reid, i wanna read with you but im too tired for that) you said to him, slightly slurring your words. “Huh?” Spencer looked up at you with a small crease between his eyebrows. The switch in language caught the rest the rest of the team off guard as well (evidently by the looks on their faces) you peered at them just as perplexed and asked “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” (Whats wrong?).
“Dont worry guys I’ll talk to him” said spencer with a little giggle at his new friends antics. Morgan gave spencer a little knowing look and eyebrow wiggle at his conversation with Y/N, despite having no idea what they were saying. “Mon biche, tu parle français maintenant, pas anglais.” (Darling, you’re speaking french right now, not english) says spencers with a small smile. a look of understanding dawned your features and you said “je suis?! Oh c'est pas grave, Oh, tu n'as besoin que de me comprendre de toute façon.” (I am?! Thats okay, you’re the only one who needs to understand me anyways) you say with a wink ad a giggle. Spencers cheeks went red and emily gave him a questioning look. “Y/N, tu fais quoi?” (y/n, what are you doing?). you just gave him a mischievous look before putting your head on his shoulder and snuggling into him to fall asleep. The rest of the team got bored of making fun of the pair and began their own conversations or trying to sleep. But after a minute or two the team heard and hushed but strict “shhhhh!” coming from their resident genius. “You guys are so loud! hes asleep!” said spencer’s while he gestured vicariously to the sleeping figure drooped over his left side. “hush up pretty boy, your little boyfriend over theres out cold dont worry about it.” said derek with a teasing smile. spencers cheeks turned even more red than before if hat was even possible and started stuttering about the sleep man not being his boyfriend. “okay, okay, hes not your boyfriend,” said derek with his hands up in surrender after spencer kept spluttering on about y/n not being his boyfriend.
(small time skip)
As the plane landed people began packing up their things and getting ready to get off the plane. But y/n and Spencer had moved and when the team looked over they found the two agents passed out on top of each other and snoring lightly.
THE END
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bloodykora · 9 months
Note
Thonking hard about Buggy and long haired Buggy especially. Like I don’t mind the stylistic choice in the LA but maaaaan, maaaaaaaan. There’s the obvious stuff like playing with his long hair and braiding it but my mind keeps going back to Head!Buggy and you and it’s just a bit of time to kill before you get anywhere and you were honestly just supposed to watch him so he doesn’t get snatched up by a seagull and something and you both agree this doesn’t mean ANYTHING (he’s gonna develop a soft spot for you and ONLY you out of all the straw hats immediatly), but it’s so damn boring out here and you have some hairties you found somewhere and just… You using Buggy’s head like a hairstyling toy and just braiding it for him or putting it into little buns, clipping it out of his face so it doesn’t get into his eyes etc.
Sanji passes you once and is about to say something but Buggy just gives him a glare that’s all „Got something funny to say punk?“ and he just shakes his head and moves on.
(You forget one tie in there before he reuinites with his body. A simple little thing with two skull beads. He initially keeps it because he actually feels it suites his style but he developes a fondness for this little thing in particular that he doesn’t allow himself to think about for to long)
This is so much longer then I thought it would be so I'm putting it under read more but like yes.
- No cause I absolutely agree, love his long gorgeous hair. I like to think his hair isn’t thin either, its a good mix of thickness but not to the point of curly. He’s got the nice ‘wave’ going. Did you know that in his hat, there are small braids in the hair coming out of it in the LA.
- It didn’t take long for Buggy to start complaining about the heat and it didn’t take you long to get fed up with his complaints
- You kept looking at how his blue hair kept draping over the side of the barrel he was on, and how his bandana has not moved a inch since he was taken out of the bag on the ship
- "Let me do your hair." "No." "Let’s continue then to sit in almost complete silence, would you like to play cards? Oh, wait. You have no hands. What about I Spy? I spy something blue."
- Just making fun of the his situation until he caves in to let you, he says to stop your whining but in reality he could really use the scalp massage
- Putting a crate behind the barrel or something so you can sit and do it. It’s softer than you had thought it would be, and you could see small braids near his bottom layers.
- "Did you do these?" "Huh? I can’t really see the back of my head, you gotta be more descriptive." Holding one of them out for him to see. "Oh yeah, adds a nice touch to the hat when I’m performing!"
- The shed though, his hair would shed so much. You’d be pulling blue hair strands out of your clothes for the rest of time. And they’d get everywhere on the ship too.
- You could hear him sigh in relief when you first start brushing through it, and you felt relieved knowing those knots have been eradicated.
- First thing you do is just a little bun so his neck could get some fresh air for once and then it evolves into the craziness.
- Buns, pigtails, high and low ponys, 1 braid, 2 braids, fishtails, french, dutch, braiding 2 pieces and then wrapping it around his forehead like a crown. Favourite would be doing 2 french braids at the top of his head til it's the bottom and then putting the hair tie there so it becomes a fancy low pigtail.
- "I can't believe how pretty you are with your hair, not very fair to the rest of us good sir." You joke out, meaning it though. "I've always been pretty!" You snort at his reply not knowing how warm his face had started feeling.
- Every pirate has a niche collection, yours? Your hair pin collection. To die for. You have been collecting hair clips and such for this exact occasion. Butterflies, wooden, yellow, purple, bobby pins, bows, ribbons, flowers. The whole works.
- Buggy even thinks about asking you to join his crew just for your hair decoration skills.
- One time you even trim his dead ends for him, and some of his front pieces to frame his face more.
- He got so used to it that if you didn’t approach him with a brush in hand first thing in the morning that he would start asking for you saying how he needed his royal brushing. (He’s totally not worried at all sometimes when you take too long, ha that would be. Ahem.)
- Sometimes he’d even doze off, but would swear he was just resting his eyes.
- A few times someone would stop to glance at you two but never intervene, except Luffy. He was always in awe. Sanji had voiced his concerns for you but never says anything in front of Buggy, you could never see but the two men were death staring each other every time they passed.
- Word spreads through the crew and even though none of them had long enough hair to do or in Usopp’s case, has been doing it himself this whole time. They do come to ask for little clips here and there, Luffy wanting one for the string on his hat so he has something to fidget with, (Nami wanting some to wear with her different outfits later on), Usopp wondering where you got heart ones so he could get one for Kaya, even Zoro wondering if you had one he could wear for Kuina’s memory on special occasions.
-You knew you were nearing Coco village, you had overheard Buggy talking to Usopp about it. How they should be there within the day. You settle for a low bun that curls up right beneath his cap.
- "No beads today?" "Well there is some on the tie but you can’t see it, I was thinking that it would be a more relaxed day. I got some stuff to do around the ship."
- Everyone is so caught up in Nami that by the time things have cooled down you realize he’s gone, no more blue hair to twirl around your fingers.
- The clown realizes too, fiddling with the tie in his hands. Burying the longing deep down, hoping he never sees you again but praying he might get a glance of you once more. He takes it out if he knows he’s about to raid somewhere to avoid breaking it.
- Tears apart his quarters if he misplaces it, someone has almost lost a hand because it fell off a table. 
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frenchkisstheabyss · 11 months
Text
*.·:·.✧venus✧.·:·.*
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✧ This Jongho fic comes courtesy of another request from a super sweet anon who loves her some him. I'm so happy that you trust me w/ your hubby. Hope you love it! ✧
Pairing: boyfriend!jongho x chubby!fem!reader
Summary: Your boyfriend's obsessed with your curves and wants to show you just how much he loves them.
Genre: smut but make it sweet
Word Count: 880
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Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms
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Your clothes fall away like the leaves of a sugar maple tree at the edge of autumn. They collect at your feet---your dress, your bra, your panties---in a pile of tangerine fabric. You step out of them, approaching the end of the bed where your boyfriend eagerly awaits you. Brushing the hair away from his face, you position yourself between his legs, smiling down at him like the sun herself. His hands raise to your caress your hips delicately as if he’s preparing to touch something priceless. There’s a low hum of release from somewhere deep within him when he finally touches you. 
Your body. So curvy. So perfect. So plump and warm to the touch. His hands ride the ins and outs of your shape, feeding you every drop of passion needed to make you feel how intensely he worships it. Worships you. Jongho rests his cheek against your belly, breathing in your scent as his hands squeeze your plush ass. You smell of jasmine and orange blossom, of patchouli, like some rare flower blooming for him and him alone. “Love---you” he whispers, sensual kisses trailing down your stomach, “Love---all---of---you, y/n.” “I love you too,” you say, the air tingling as it leaves your lungs. 
Tucking his arm behind your left knee, Jongho brings your foot up onto the bed so that your thigh kisses his cheek. His eyes fall to your exposed core and his mouth begins to water, “Fuck. So pretty.” His thumb drags along your slit, dipping into you unexpectedly. It emerges seconds later glistening with juices that he spreads between your silky folds. You whimper, eyelids fluttering, as his thumb circles your stiff bud. Jongho plunges two more fingers into your depths, “Baby, fuck, she’s so juicy for me. So tight.” “Jongho!” you gasp, thighs quivering as he spreads his fingers against the tightness of your walls. 
“Mmm, louder” he coos, adding a third finger and quickening his pace. You throw your arms across his shoulders, gripping the back of his shirt while you ride his fingers. “Jongho! Oh my god! Yes. You fuck my pussy so good. So---” “That’s it” he grins, tucking his thumb away to rest his tongue on the underside of your throbbing clit. He flicks it upward sending the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. He does it again and pleasure jolts through your stomach. Over and over he teases your clit just enough that you keep dripping into his palm like fresh honey. For a fleeting moment, your knees give out and he sweeps you onto the bed, diving face-first between your legs. 
“You’re trying to kill me” you whine, catching one quick breath before his tongue’s flexing against your clit. He nods, confirming your suspicions, and spreads your legs wider. The room’s still spinning when he loses himself in the sloppy French kisses he applies to your pussy. Your taste floods his senses, so intoxicating that he finds himself pitifully, ravenously craving more. Jongho’s hands dance up and down your body. Palming your succulent breasts, flicking and twisting your beautifully perky nipples to trigger that high-pitched whine of yours he loves so much. He grips your love handles, hands feasting upon your curves the way his tongue does your needy pussy. 
Touching you. Tasting you. It’s getting him hard enough that if his cock brushes against his pants like---
his breath hitches, precum shooting from his swollen head at the slightest bit of friction
---like that, he knows he’ll come. “Shit, baby. Too good. Mmph. I’m gonna---ah!” you moan, cotton sheets twisting in your fists. Jongho grabs your hips, burying his face so deep into your pussy that even his nose is drenched. With your clit pulsing between his lips, he rocks his head up and down making all the satisfied noises of a starving man whose hunger has just been satiated. You twist and wiggle, an entire galaxy shrinking and expanding inside of you. He clasps your thighs around his head, his curved tongue gathering your come as it leaks out of you. 
“Hold---on” you pant, noticing that he’s yet to ease up on you. Your words do nothing and the overstimulation begins to drag you under. Jongo reaches up, fingers interlocking with yours, “One more. She just tastes so good. Fuck, y/n.” “I don’t know---I” you stutter, attempting to protest but the room’s spinning again. Your body collapses. Heat rushes over you. You’re squeezing his hands tight enough to leave nail marks on his knuckles. He can tell by the way your walls shiver that you’re seconds from another orgasm. This time it hits you like a shot of adrenaline. Overwhelming every nerve in your body. You’re kicking. Screaming. Losing control of your limbs altogether. 
“Again” he hums, reaching for your hips once more. “No!” you cry, slipping away from him, “You really are trying to kill me!” Jongho just laughs, crawling up the bed to kiss you, “At least I didn’t lie.” You kiss him back weakly, sharing with him what’s left of you on his mouth, “You’re lucky you’re cute.” “I know” he smiles, taking you into his arms knowing that he’ll want you a dozen more times tonight but content with just feeling your body against his for now.
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hotvintagepoll · 1 month
Text
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Propaganda
Josephine Baker (The Siren of the Tropics, ZouZou)— Josephine Baker was an American born actress, singer, and utter icon of the period, creating the 1920s banana skirt look. She was the first black woman to star in a major motion film. She fought in the French resistance in WWII, given a Legion of Honour, as well as refusing to perform in segregated theatres in the US. She was bisexual, a fighter, and overall an absolutely incredible woman as well as being extremely attractive.
Anne Baxter (The Ten Commandments, All About Eve)—her soft, gentle voice in "all about eve", those gentle eyes with something odd behind them, the way she flips from Sweet Innocent to Viper on a dime......there was something Built Different about anne baxter, man, and it makes her so good for playing people who are Built Wrong. also one of my favorite batmen villains (her joint episode w vincent price is a delight) and of course I'm obsessed with her columbo episode where she bosses around edith head and does fabulous movie star things for no good reason. and i would be REMISS if i didn't mention her slink—oh the slink—in the ten commandments...................pardon me i must go think of sinning again
This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Josephine Baker:
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Black, American-born, French dancer and singer. Phenomenal sensation, took music-halls by storm. Famous in the silent film era.
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Let's talk La Revue Negre, Shuffle Along. The iconique banana outfit? But also getting a Croix de Guerre and full military honors at burial in Paris due to working with the Resistance.
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She exuded sex, was a beautiful dancer, vivacious, and her silliness and humor added to her attractiveness. She looked just as good in drag too.
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So I know she was more famous for other stuff than movies and her movies weren’t Hollywood but my first exposure to her was in her films so I’ve always thought of her as a film actress first and foremost. Also she was the first black woman to star in a major motion picture so I think that warrants an entry
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Iconic! Just look up anything about her life. She was a fascinating woman.
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Anne Baxter:
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The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.
Anne Baxter was part of my Bisexual Awakening. My family has a tradition that every Palm Sunday we watch The ten commandments on TV together... And starting from a very young age, I essentially developed a crushes on Anne Baxter's Nefertiri & Yul Brynner's Ramses. Dude, the woman was HOT! They both were! My crush definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Anne Baxter's costumes were a bit on the sheer side. She had a way of capturing you with her eyes, and I never understood why Charlton heston's Moses didn't just have a threesome with Nefertiri and Ramses. LOL
Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.
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Look. Listen. I only *just* discovered her on a post from the Have You Seen This Romcom poll blog. Saw she had the same last name as me and went OOH hi hello. Went to her IMdB and saw she was born in Indiana like moi. I am now even more intrigued. Been eagerly telling my partner this, and he was like "maybe you guys are distantly related?" And after 2 hrs of going down the tumblr tag + her imdb photos, I'm In Deep(tm) and I can't stop looking at her like 😍 When I go to my grandma's house, bet your ass I'm gonna check my grandpa's genealogy and see if we're somehow related. Sorry that's not really propaganda I just got real excited, esp when I saw that the submission deadline was extended (bless your soul). Narrowing down the movies where she's hottest in was Hell tyvm. I've only just discovered her, she looks gorgeous to me in every movie still I see of her gdi lol.
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 5 months
Text
Metalhead!König at a festival
Tis the season – Festival season – SFW and NSFW
More Stuff in the Masterlist
(cw: alcohol/drugs, semi-public sex, smut, MDNI 18+)
On the way to the festival, I’m living the best passenger princess life, sitting beside him, navigating the GPS, feeding him snackies (he loves little brezels and gummyworms) and most importantly DJing the whole time while driving to the festival. Songs of all the bands we want to go see live are blasting from the speakers and when I start to sing along, König chimes in.
He has an old VW van T4 that he rebuilt himself, so that the back of it actually transforms into a quite comfy bed, one that even accommodates his size.
The trunk of the van is filled with gear and gadgets, there's nothing that he didn't think about.
A plastic pavilion to get a little bit of shade in the blistering summer sun. A camping table and two chairs (even though I don't know why he bothered to get me my own because he always coaxes me to sit in his lap) ((maybe that's why we have a second one because I don't think the small thing can withstand our combined weight for long)). A portable sound system. A bunch of hardware tools, a camping cooker and some equipment for it. Like for example the little espresso can because even at a festival the big guy needs his proper coffee (and not some kind of "instant crap" – his words).
At least I could hold him off from bringing our own beer tap because that would've been ridiculous.
And of course, he brought a grill, he would've even brought one if it weren't allowed.
I mean, he's Austrian and even though the neighbors from Germany are much more known for their fondness for grilling as soon as the temperatures rise over 10 degrees celsius, he still loves it.
I'm just rolling my eyes and laughing when he starts to light the coals pretty early in the morning. But I'm not complaining because he chooses to do so shirtless, showing off his broad muscled chest and the plethora of tattoos on his torso.
The black cargo shorts are hanging low on his hips, the belt holding them in place, the waistband of his boxershorts showing a little bit which accentuates the V of his hips. And don't even get me started on the happy trail leading down.
I'm ogling him shamelessly, sitting in my chair and making some coffee on the burner for us.
(He's also wearing some of his old combat boots, and he reassured me that the weird looking stains on them aren't actually blood. (I still don't believe him))
He looks like such a metalhead dad as he's standing at the grill, a beer in hand and just happily humming along to the melodies blasting from the speaker.
It makes me happy to see him like this because I don't know much about his work, he rarely talks to me about it and it has to be a burden, but right now he seems like he doesn't have a care in the world.
I catch him grinning at me, shaking the almost empty beer can and downing the last bit. I giggle, jump up and go get him a new one from the little freezer box.
With two fresh cans of beer, I stroll over to him, handing him one. His arm wraps around me and I can already see the mischief sparkling in his eyes as he's looking down on me. "Ex oder Franzos.", he tells me, taunting me. (He told me once what this means ‘either down your beer or you're french’ which apparently is an insult?? I don't know what the Austrians are on either)
"Nooo, I’m not gonna shotgun with you right now.", I wail.
"Oh, come on, it's just one beer.", he grins at me.
I put my hands on my hips, looking up at him all scolding. "Well, maybe one beer isn't a big deal for you, big guy." He just laughs and nonetheless drinks half his beer with one big gulp, the little show-off. Ever since he knows what a lightweight I am, he likes to tease me about it. Stupid big tall man.
The sun shines down like crazy which gives me the opportunity to apply sunscreen too him as often as I can.
"I get the feeling you're not doing this for the well-being of my skin.", he tells me, sideeyeing me while my hands move over his shoulders and pecs, making sure every inch is covered.
"I don't know what you mean.", I answer innocently, making him pull his hair out of the way with a nod, and moving on to his tattooed back, skimming over the smooth skin with my fingertips, massaging over the tense muscles.
When I'm finished, finally having applied enough sunscreen on the huge man, he snatches up the bottle, puts a little dollop on his hands and goes straight for my boobs.
"We can't have you getting a sunburn either!", he explains with a serious expression on his face while he shamelessly kneads my bikini-clothed breasts, in the name of sun protection.
Food in the stage area is expensive but that doesn't stop him from buying me everything I think looks good. I need to actually hold him off from getting another portion of the little pancakes because I'm so full, I feel like bursting and I still wanna be able to mosh.
"But what about some ice cream?", he suggests, pointing at a little cart in the vicinity. "It might help us cool a bit down."
I tilt my head to the side, thinking about it, but only for a moment. "Okay, I think there still is room for some ice cream.", I agree and we make our way in the direction of the ice cream vendor.
“Oh, wait, we need to get more water!”, I yell out as I see the water station. I pull him with me by his hand, filling our water bottles and then taking off my shirt to wet it.
“Now, what is this? Wet t-shirt contest?”, he asks with a dirty smile on his face, his eyes travelling down my body.
“Yeah, you wanna join?”, I ask him wiggling my brows, which makes him laugh and shed his shirt in a second. He lets water run over it as well and then wrings the shirt out over his body, the water dripping down his pecs and abs, and I can’t help but stare with a slack jaw. He laughs again when he sees the expression on my face, but he puts the shirt back on.
He pulls me into him, pressing a little kiss to my temple, our wet clothes sticking together. “Come on, let’s get you that ice cream, sweet cheeks.”, he says, giving my ass a few loving pats.
We try and go to as many bands as possible which is becoming quite the workout for me. By midnight my feet are already hurting like crazy and I make the mistake of mentioning it to König because he demands to carry me now. After some discussion, we come to the agreement that a piggyback ride would suffice.
So now I'm clinging to König's back, my muddy shoes dirtying his pants with the way my legs are hugging his hips. His arms are reaching back, the hands crossed under my ass supporting my weight.
Festivals can get pretty filthy but that doesn't stop him from trying to get into my pants. The solution to the filthyness? Going showering.
Most of the festivals I've ever been to don't actually separate between men's and women's shower, so that's not an issue when we slip into one of the cabins together. Still, some people around gave us funny looks.
It gets crowded in there even for two people, especially if one of the two is König. I press my body against his and squeal as he turns on the shower and we get doused with an icecold spray.
He just laughs, not fazed by it at all – duh, but I am someone who german-speaking would call a 'Warmduscher' (someone who likes to shower warm, which is meant as an insult).
His mouth finding mine shuts me up and wandering hands get rid of the dirt and grime on our bodies. I'm still washing away soapy suds while König's caresses drop lower and lower until his fingertips stroke over my pussy, finding my clit. I shoot him a look like "Seriously?! Right here and now?", but the corners of my mouth curl up. The knowing expression on his face doesn't waiver while he draws circles on the sensitive spot, getting me wet and needy for his fingers to slip inside me.
I hold onto him, my hands digging into his shoulders, as he pulls up one of my legs and finger-fucks me. The cold water is forgotten by now.
The palm of his hand pressing against the soft mound, stroking over the clit with every push inside me. His fingertips reaching that certain spot, brushing over it repeatedly, which has me gasping for air in no time. “Ja, fuck, come for me.”, he whispers against my lips. My thighs start to tremble, and moans escape my throat.
“You need to shut up, Liebes, or the people around us will know.”, he grunts, letting go of my leg and clasping the hand over my mouth to muffle my sounds. The realization that there’s other people in the cabins beside us, that the stalls aren’t anywhere near a soundproof barrier, that someone will probably hear the lewd sounds, the realization sends a zap of tingly arousal down my spine. His fingers move faster, hitting me deep inside, and I come around them screaming into his palm.
When my orgasm fades, I snuggle into him, and he holds me up pressing soft kisses to the top of my head and my face. He takes the camping bath towel he brought (you know, the ones that are microfiber and dry really fast? Of course, he has stuff like that) and starts to wrap me in it.
“Wait, what about you?”, I ask, still panting a bit, aware of his hard dick pressing against my belly.
“You’re already shivering wia a Lampe Schwoaf (like a lamb’s tail), we need to get you into the warmth again.”, he says, rubbing me down with the towel, the strokes of his big hands and the fabric tickling me a bit, which is making me giggle.
He leans down a bit, getting to my legs as well, still drying me off, and his eyes find mine, arousal and need glinting in them, a smirky grin forming on his face. “And don’t worry, I’m gonna get my fill of you later.”
In between bands, we’re sitting on the lawn, a little bit away from the stages. The sky is tinted in a rosy-orange blush, blending into the dark of the night that’s about to come. Even when I’m sitting on his thigh, I almost have to tilt my head back to look at him. He sees my little stare and smiles. “What?”, he asks.
I don’t break eye contact as I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”, he asks, seeming a little loopy.
I shrug, the smile on my face only getting wider. “I’m just happy to be here.” My hand reaches up to boop his nose, and the look on his face when he goes cross-eyed makes me laugh. “With you.”, I add, still giggling, feeling silly and honestly – a little lovey-dovey.
His smile matches mine as he grabs my face with his hand and plants a big kiss on my lips. “Me too, du Scherzkeks.”, he mumbles against my lips. (literally 'joking cookie', meaning jokester)
Straightening back up again, he eyes the joint in my other hand. “You still smoking that?”, he asks.
I shake my head and hand him the roach. He takes it and puffs the last bit of weed, inhaling deeply, holding in the breath. Before he can exhale, I grab his face with both my hands, pressing my lips to his. He chuckles, deepening the kiss, letting out the smoke as his tongue brushes against mine, and I taste him and the grassy fume.
We’re still sitting in the same spot an hour later, giggling with each other, sharing the biggest portion of fries we could find, while we listen to the music blasting from the stage speakers.
When we're back at the van, I fall into the mattress, bury my head into the pillow and groan as my body relaxes into the softness. My god, I will never be able to sleep on anything less comfortable when at a festival.
König's chuckle behind me makes me aware before his hands grasp my hips and pull them upwards. He pushes my pants down and his mouth into my pussy. I gasp into the sheets gripping them, squirming against his tongue, when he sloppily licks me, lapping at my wetness, dipping into my ass as well, until I’m making a total mess on his face.
He gets greedier, pulling out his dick and fucking me from behind, his fingers digging into my hips. The pace he’s going at makes the whole car shake, and somebody passing by could notice, but I'm counting on the darkness to conceal us, to hide what we're doing in the back of the van, especially when he flips us, and I’m on top now.
He's splayed out on the mattress looking up at me, satisfied smirk and hooded lids, as he grabs my wrists, securing them behind my back, and tells me to ride him. I whine and moan a little while I start moving up and down his length because the muscles in my legs are already aching from all the dancing, jumping and moshing, but his dirty ramblings spur me on: "Fuck, you feel so good, just like that." and "Harder, ride me harder." and “Ah, scheiße, i- that’s it, good fucking girl.”
He lifts up my shirt with the other hand and brings the fabric up to my mouth, gesturing me to bite into it. He pulls down the bikini top I’m still wearing underneath, freeing my boobs.
"Hm, such a little slut, getting fucked in the back of a van.", he murmurs, his eyes glued to my bouncing titties, while he fucks up into me, hitting spots deep inside me that pull obscene sounds from my throat. The little bit of fabric between my teeth can't damp them down. I try to hold onto the last bit of sanity, but then he pinches my nipple, hard, the sensations flowing over me, and I come on his dick, straining against his hold on me, shuddering while the orgasm wrecks through me.
My thighs are pressing together and König’s hands are the only thing that’s holding me up. While I’m still coming down, he pulls me against him. I sigh snuggling against his chest when he rolls us over.
“Oh no, Liebes, we’re not done yet.”, he chuckles, pushing into me again, his lips finding the sensitive spots on my neck.
A little ray of sunshine falls on my face through the window of the van, the early morning light making me open my eyes. I try to move to escape the brightness, but I can’t move my body. I turn my head and open my eyes, seeing König’s arm and legs draped over me, the big hand splayed out over my belly. Well, that explains it. The big guy is still sleeping, the soft sounds of his breathing filling the space around us. He’s facing me, a relaxed expression on his face, his brows that always seem to be furrowed turned up a little bit. I don’t think I have seen him this peaceful yet.
My lips curl up into a smile and I reach out, cupping his cheek, softly stroking over his jaw, because I can’t help myself. Normally he shaves pretty often, a habit he picked up at the military, but somehow, he’s still always wearing a 5 o’clock shadow. Right now, the beard has developed into more of a longer stubble, a few grey hairs in between. And it looks good on him.
Suddenly he’s stirring in his sleep, his lids fluttering as he groans, the big hand moving up to his face to rub the eyes. A little huff escapes my nose and I greet him with a “Good morning, sleepy head”. He groans again because he can be a little ‘Morgenmuffel’ (a little grumpy in the mornings), but opens his eyes to look at me.
“Why are you so cheery this morning, hm?”, he asks me, still blinking the sleep away while a sly smirk is forming on his face. “Oh yeah, that’s right because I fucked you seven ways to Sunday on this mattress.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the little grin on my face. “Yeah, yeah… If I can’t walk to the stages today, it’s your fault, old man.”, I taunt him.
His eyes light up with playful threat and he grabs me, rolling onto me. I yelp and giggle as his full body weight presses me into the mattress. “Keep running that mouth, Fräulein, and I’m gonna make sure of that.”, he says, his words a dirty promise.
a/n: this should have been a quick little fun drabble, but I got carried away - ah well, it happens <3
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