#also please add on to this if you wish i feel like i’m forgetting a lot (every single country they’ve terrorized with their nonsense)

[crandberrysaucewithpulp]

tlsp stage antics i need answers to:

- alex’s reaction to miles’ playing where he shakes his hands frantically, backs away, falls to his knees, leans back and shields himself from miles and his sick guitar?

-alex doing something similar to the previous instance but it’s like he’s being blasted by a nuclear explosion when miles plays the first note of the dream synopsis lick

-the leg pops when sharing a mic

-cleveland

-miles having no bones.. whatsoever. the man is rubber.

-^ miles also folding in half backwards while still playing (for instance rock en seine i think during totally wired)

-miles playing his electric behind his head i mean come on

-cleveland

-alex feeding miles the mic (his own face as well)

-alex’s trickery by lowering the mic stand in time for miles to notice its been fondled with in order to end up sharing one

-the way the joints in their fingers and palms have magnets

-cleveland

-arcade ….fire…… 😐

-^lcd soundsystem

-when i talk about………….my dreams… (you know which one)

-every bad habits performance

-every used to be my girl performance

-every in my room performance

-every meeting place performance

-(best for last) what spell is in standing next to me to make someone act like this

- that squatting dracula teeth performance

-the licking game.

-the head rubbing hair pulling something something

-cleveland

-the final miracle aligner performance and why did we think that was ok at all

-not being able to contain a kiss or touch. you know..the way normal people could

-the blue and green suits standing next to me performance.

-nose smushing

-that one eycte (song) performance (white/red shirts edition) (i don’t want to get into too much detail. they make me ill)

-the nights we’ve had in this city

-you got old and wrinkled (shavambacu) i stayed seventeen. you lusted after so many i lay here with wolverine

-frequency… festiv..(vomits)

-taotu era heat of the morning performance

-the aviation performance where alex is mesmerized by the peace safety and comfort from the arm around him and the same person only centimeters away

well if anyone has any offerings to soothe the perplexing inferno of their stage behavior… actually keep it to yourselves i don’t want to know lalalalala i can’t hear you

[papercorgiworld]

Pansy’s interrogation

Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle

Weird behaviour and rumours have Pansy asking questions and figuring out who the guys are crushing on.

Warning: Mattheo says a foul thing.

I feel like I’m spamming tumblr with unasked for fic’s, like I’m anxious that I’m bothering everyone, but at the same time: here’s another unasked for fic. Also, English is not my first language and this is not proofread, so feedback is very welcome.

For more interrogations: click here

For more Theodore: click here

For more Mattheo: click here

Theodore Nott

“Rumor has it you are tutoring first years?” Pansy sits down next to Theodore with a cup of tea in her hand, carefully stirring. Theo growls, he knew this was coming, he knew Hogwarts was notoriously fast when it came down to gossip, but it hadn’t even been a day. Pansy raises her eyebrows, her way of saying ‘spill it, I want to know’.

“So?” Theo simply shrugs trying to downplay it and thereby hoping to avoid spilling his hidden agenda.

“Not really your thing, is it Notty-boy?” Pansy playfully ruffles through Theo’s hair. He immediately gets her hand out of his hair and tries to comb it back to its regular mess with his fingers. “It earns Slytherin points.” Theo finally explains when his hair is remodeled.

“Earning Slytherin points?” The girl huffed, clearly not falling for his excuse. “If you really cared about our house points you would start attending class, stop doing drugs and getting caught, and you would keep Riddle out of fights instead of getting him into more fights.”

Theodore frowned and forced his lips into a line. “Keep Riddle out of fights, who do you think I am, the pope?!” Pansy shakes her head. “Don’t try to change the subject.”

Theo looks away and feels saved when he sees Draco approaching them with his usual dramatic walk. He should be enough distraction for Pansy. “Theo, I heard you’re tutoring first years?” Right. How could I forget, he’s Hogwarts' second biggest gossip.

Enzo joins the group now that the entire common room knows Theo is a tutor thanks to Draco. “Really?” Enzo quips and Theodore simply nods. “(Y/n) must be so pleased that you’re helping out with her tutoring project. She had trouble finding capable and willing volunteers.”

Draco huffs at Enzo’s oblivious reaction. “Theo is so whipped for (y/n).” Pansy mouths an OMG at Theo who immediately realizes he will never hear the end of this.

Suddenly Blaise and Mattheo arrive. “Mate, you tutoring first years?” Mattheo asks, ignoring everyone else and with a very confused expression. Theo sighs and lets himself sink in the sofa, wishing it would swallow him. “If you’re tutoring? Why don’t you help me?” Blaise adds a little offended.

“Apparently, Theo is only doing this to earn points… with (y/n).” Pansy explains with an unmistakable grin on her face. Theodore rolls his eyes and stares at the ceiling for a moment. I need a smoke. And new friends.

Mattheo Riddle

Pansy flops down next to Mattheo who up until then was enjoying his quiet time lounging on his favorite couch in the Slytherin common room. Mattheo doesn’t recognise Pansy’s presence and simply continues reading his book.

Pansy’s smirk grows wide, she’as already enjoying herself and she hasn’t even started interrogating her victim yet. She turns herself to face Mattheo’s side and dominantly places her arm on the back of the couch behind him. Now he’s closed in the game begins.

“I hear it’s been a while since you’ve had a shag?” Annoyance fills Mattheo’s eyes as he stops reading just to stare in front of him.

“I’m assuming everything *pansy gestures to everything between his legs* is still working fine. So… No luck on the market ?” Mattheo’s eyes roll to the corner of his eyes to stare at Pansy.

“Pans, don’t.” Mattheo returns his gaze back to his book.

“You must get frustrated? Getting no release.” A heavy breath leaves Mattheo’s chest. He really didn’t like it when Pansy played her games.

“Oh, but he has plenty of Willing Witches magazines. He gets by.” Blaise jumps to take a seat on the couch opposite of Mattheo and Pansy, spreading his arms to take up the whole couch. Mattheo’s jaw clenches clearly not amused by his friend's humor. When Pansy giggles, Mattheo can’t help but feel exposed and blush a little.

“Why do you care?” Mattheo finally breaks, giving Pansy his full attention.

“I want to know why you’ve been playing boring at every single party for the last few months. Girls talk, you know.” Mattheo rolls his eyes. “Girls talk? Wow, that’s news.” His sarcasm had a poisonous undertone.

“If the guy wants to be on his best behavior, let him, Pans.” Blaise cuts in, attempting to get Pansy off Mattheo’s case.

“Why? Why are you suddenly done with manwhoring about?” As every part of Mattheo’s body tensed, Pansy threw a quick glance over to Blaise to affirm her suspicion: she was onto something.

Acting quick and avoiding a witty or snappy comeback from Mattheo, Pansy moved a little closer to Mattheo. She let her head fall to the side and put up an innocent face. “Are you trying to impress someone?” Mattheo’s dark eyes shot at hers. “Ah, that also explains why you’ve been attending classes more often.” She added enjoying how the puzzle pieces were falling together. “And, it’s been a while since you’ve had detention for fighting. Oh please, don’t tell me, are you trying to convince (y/n) that you’re a good boy?!”

As soon as Mattheo heard your name his face went from cold and annoyed to shocked and horrified. It lasted only for a second, his dead eyes were even more furious than before. “Pansy. If it ain’t for sucking dick then I advise you keep your mouth shut. Now, go bother someone else.”

Pansy was used to harsh language, but Mattheo’s denigrating tone made her tense. “I wonder what (y/n) will think about your foul mouth.” Pansy got up, pleased now that she knew what made Mattheo tick. Mattheo on the hand was frustrated that he led himself get played by Pansy’s games like this.

[runariya]

Part 2 of this | shout out to @slut4jeon who made this happen part of the prompt game pairing: metro inhabitant!Jungkook x survivor!female reader genre: apocalypse!AU, S2L warnings: survival after nuclear fallout, foul language, basically just smut, jealous JK, oral (f. receiving), a bit of handjob, boobplay, fingering, squirting, a bit of eating out and finger sucking, unprotected seggs, a bit of cock warming, spanking, body worshipping, they are just whipped for each other, rough possessive seggs, JK's a bit whiney, cum shot, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 1.336

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Living in the Metro is, to say the least, completely unexpected. It’s like stepping into an alternate universe compared to the outside world. Not that it’s entirely safe here, with certain stations better avoided, especially when you’re on your own, but it’s still so much safer than anything you could have ever wished for.

What’s also otherworldly is living with Jungkook. It’s not only a luxury but like living in a constant dream. You’d never have believed you’d find someone like him, not even when the world was green, and the skies were blue before everything fell apart. But here you are, living the dream because Jungkook is the best partner you could ever hope for.

There isn’t a single day that passes where he isn’t more than willing and eager to please you to the best of his abilities—abilities that are beyond heaven. If you’re sad? He fucks you. If you’re happy? He fucks you too. And if you’re angry with him for reasons you can’t even recall? He’s usually the one responsible for making you forget in the first place.

You’d never complain, though, and never would you deny him or the multitude of orgasms he grants you day in and day out.

Like right now. He saw a seller at Riga Station, the trading hub of the Metro, being a bit too friendly with you. The man even gave you a rare flower, despite everyone knowing you belong to Jungkook. Hoseok just wanted to wind him up, and you suspect he did it on purpose.

“Sit down,” Jungkook orders, pacing the small room while his jaw ticks dangerously. You obey, clutching the flower tightly, not at all scared but rather anticipating the ‘punishment’ you know is coming.

“So now you’re collecting gifts from every man in—”

“I’m not collecting anything, Kook, he gave it to me volunta—”

“Voluntarily?! You didn’t just say that.”

You nod, biting your lip to suppress a smile as you watch Jungkook spiral further into frustration.

“Are you still looking for someone better? Is that it?”

“You never give me flowers,” you pout dramatically, and when Jungkook gestures with both hands to the wall overflowing with flowers and other gifts, you almost feel guilty enough to stop the game and tell him how good he is to you.

Almost.

But you don’t, because his next words are exactly what you’ve been waiting for.

“Maybe I need to remind my girlfriend who’s worthy of her.”

And as Jungkook strides towards you, ripping his army shirt off, you toss the flower aside you don’t care about. In seconds, he’s on you, crushing his lips against yours, his lip piercings digging into your lower lip as his hands grip every inch of your body.

You’re both naked in the blink of an eye, Jungkook alternating between sucking and licking your nipples while you jerk his perfect, hard cock. The sight of him worshipping your body like this never gets old, and his touch is never the same twice.

“I’m going to make sure I’m the only one on your mind.”

Jungkook’s fingers glide down to your cunt, pushing two fingers inside once you’re wet enough. The way his thick fingers stretch you sends stars exploding behind your eyelids, and the pace he sets, combined with his mouth and free hand still working on your tits, is utterly intoxicating. 

It’s insane how he can fuck you so perfectly with just his fingers, knowing exactly where to touch you. When he adds a third finger, thrusting as deep as he can, you know he’s not messing around this time. The burn from the stretch only intensifies when he rasps into your ear, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

“Kook!” you cry as he presses particularly hard. You didn’t know he could be this possessive, but God, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a man.

“Scream my name, love! Let everyone in this forsaken hellhole know who owns you.”

“Jungkook!” you moan as his fingers thrust relentlessly into you, his wrist occasionally grazing your clit, sending you even higher.

“Fuck yeah. My goddess.”

Your tits and neck are littered with hickeys at this point, and you’ve forgotten all about his cock in your slackened grip, but he doesn’t care. He never cares—his sole focus is your pleasure.

It’s when Jungkook leans back, looking down at you with his lips swollen and shining, that it all undoes you. Your orgasm crashes through you, fast and hard, and even though he’s made you squirt before, it never fails to shock and slightly embarrass you.

But Jungkook doesn’t let you dwell on that. He pulls his fingers out, licks them clean, and then dives straight between your legs, licking up every drop like always.

You’re spent, completely worn out, but you know it’s far from over. His cock is standing proudly, angrily red and ready for its well-deserved attention.

You’d like to give him head, but you know you wouldn’t survive it after what he just did to you. Jungkook, knowing you too well, simply lines himself up and pushes inside without breaking eye contact.

Every inch of him makes your head spin, especially when he bottoms out completely, filling you in a way that makes you never want to be without him.

You’re confused for a moment when he doesn’t move, and then you catch his lazy, wicked smirk. His hands run up and down your thighs before hooking them under your knees and pushing you further into him, making you moan involuntarily.

“You’re going to accept gifts from other men?”

You hesitate. Should you tease him further or stop while you’re ahead?

“Yes?” you test, but it’s clearly the wrong answer.

Jungkook’s hand smacks your ass, making you yelp, moan, and clench around him, only causing that smirk to grow.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said yes.”

Another smack, another moan.

“You think this is funny?”

There’s something about a jealous Jungkook that hits differently, and despite knowing not to push him too far, you also know what’s coming is exactly what you both crave in this doomed world.

“Yes.”

Again, his hand strikes your ass, and this time you can’t hold back, your cunt squeezing so violently around him, coating his abs and thighs with a new wave of arousal. 

“How about I fuck that ‘yes’ out of you, huh?”

There’s no time to answer before Jungkook slams into you without mercy, stealing any possible words from your lips.

“Where’s your big mouth now?”

It’s gone, completely useless. You can only pant in time with his brutal thrusts, his fingers digging deeper into your legs as he forces you even closer, higher, as you cling to his wrists, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Scream my name, ____.”

He thrusts harder, but your voice is stolen, only broken cries escaping your lips.

“Scream!” Another slap across your by now red ass, the only thing holding you together is his massive cock.

“Jungkook!” you finally cry out, so loud you swear it echoes not only through you both but through the entire Metro as well. 

“Again.” Smack.

“Jungkook! Yes!”

“That’s right.”

And with that, you’re gone, chanting his name with every thrust, every drop of sweat that falls from him onto your body. Your next orgasm washes over you without mercy.

You know he’s close, too, when he abruptly pulls out like he always does and starts jerking himself off. 

With his eyes locked on you, he comes with a desperate whine, spilling white all over your body like a masterpiece.

He’s beautiful, your gorgeous, perfect boyfriend.

Jungkook collapses onto you, and your fingers instinctively find their way into his hair while he catches his breath.

“You know there’s only you, right?”

He grumbles in response.

“I love you, Kook. Don’t think otherwise.”

“I love you too,” he grumbles again, voice still muffled, but you don’t mind. It just makes him even more endearing.

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me.”

[sukuna-dees-nuts]

@nessieartss i did it again lol

based on this ask and this ask because i couldn't get "rizzless sukuna" out of my head 😭 (and also Maki being one of Sukuna's friends is relevant which is why i tagged that ask)

anyway, please enjoy!!

Edit: part 2!!

---

Sukuna can’t keep the scowl off his face as he watches Yuuji from across the courtyard. He watches as his little brother effortlessly jokes with his friends, his face and movements animated enough that they’re clear even from so far away. Yuuji has always been the more charismatic of the two brothers; always the one to make friends first. 

Yuuji throws his head back in laughter, casually throwing his arm around Megumi’s shoulders. Sukuna feels a twinge of jealousy in his gut and he can’t stop the grunt that escapes his throat. 

How ridiculous is he? Getting jealous over nothing. It’s laughable. Sukuna doesn’t get jealous! 

Except… the more he watches his little brother interact with Megumi, the more he finds himself wishing that he could hang out with Megumi—

“Oh fuck me,” he groans, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

Sukuna looks up. Maki takes a seat next to him on the steps, a meticulous brow arched in intrigue. He’s quiet for a moment as he rests his elbows on his knees. While he considers Maki to be one of his closest (and one of his only) friends, Sukuna briefly contemplates brushing his inner turmoil aside. This is her cousin, after all. Would she really want to hear about Sukuna’s stupid crush that he barely acknowledges himself?

Ah, fuck it, he thinks and sits up straighter. 

“How do you ask someone out?”

Maki blinks, taken aback by the question. She holds Sukuna’s gaze as if trying to gauge whether or not he’s being serious. Her mouth presses into a thin line.

“Depends on who you’re wanting to ask out,” she responds with a casual shrug. As she reaches up to fix her ponytail, she asks, “Are you saying that you’ve never asked anyone out before?”

Sukuna sniffs and says nothing, running his tongue over his teeth. His attention turns to his nails, examining them for any chips in the nail polish.

“It’s never been relevant before,” Sukuna grumbles. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Maki shift. She nods slowly with a hum of acknowledgement. 

“So, who is it?” Maki asks.

“Huh?” 

“The person you want to ask out, who is it?” she asks again.

This time, Sukuna hesitates to answer. He’s never been one to be ashamed of his preferences; he always makes his thoughts clear whether it shows on his face or in his words. Like the time when Sukuna argued that the Star Wars franchise was “extremely overrated” and Yuuji nearly had a heart attack (he still hasn’t let it go).

Finally, with a sigh, Sukuna answers in another grumble, “Fushiguro.”

The silence that stretches out between them is loud. Sukuna thinks for a moment that Maki might have gotten up and left. When he looks to the side, he finds that she’s still sitting there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He fully expects her to start laughing at him, but, she doesn’t. 

Maki continues staring at Sukuna until he narrows his eyes at her, opening his mouth to tell her to just forget about it and fuck off—

“Oh, you’re actually serious,” she huffs. “For a moment I thought you were pulling my leg.”

Sukuna feels his irritation ebb and he rolls his eyes. “Why the hell would I make a joke like that? There are other things I could use to bully you with. Like your stupid glasses. They don’t fit your face.”

Ignoring the comment, Maki goes on, “Fushiguro isn’t one for extravagance. If you really want to ask him out, you should pull him off to the side and ask him privately. He’d appreciate that.” The bell rings, signaling that it’s time for the next class. Maki and Sukuna get to their feet. 

“Also, it would do you well to work on your tactfulness,” the girl adds over her shoulder as she begins to walk away.

Sukuna flips her off. “Fuck you. I’m not asking you for advice anymore.”

He watches as his friend heads back inside before turning his attention back to Megumi who is walking in the opposite direction of his two friends. Sukuna runs a hand through his hair, exhaling a long breath. 

It’s another few seconds of watching Megumi walk before Sukuna’s feet start moving, carrying him in the same direction and he mentally curses at himself again.

Fuck it. Let’s do this.

[hadersversion]

king of my heart.

pairing: jj maybank x john b’s little sister! reader.

summary: y/n is described as "uptight" and known for being someone who plays it safe. but one night when her brother's best friend, jj maybank, challenges her to step outside her comfort zone, it leads to a night neither one will forget.

warning: 18+ minors dni!!!! smut, p in v unprotected, cursing, pet names (princess, sweetheart, honey), and praise kink

word count: 3.8 k

NOT PROOFREAD!!

i sat on the living room couch, reading a book, as my brother and his friends parade through the living room. they make their way to the kitchen looking for any scrap of alcohol left. they all say their quick greetings to me, walking right pass me. except for jj.

it was always jj that had something to say.

“hey princess.” he says, stopping in front of me. “whatcha up to?”

i sigh and roll my eyes. “what does it look like i’m doing?”

he throws his hands up in his defense and smiles. “hey, hey. no need to get feisty! just wanted to see what you were up to is all.”

this is what me and jj’s relationship was like. we bicker, we goof around or we tease each other. it’s been this way since john b brought jj into my life. did i have a big fat crush on him? yes. is it still alive to this day? also yes. as much as i wished to act upon it, i knew it was forbidden for so many reasons. number one, he’s john b’s bestest friend. which means, i am completely off limits.

or so i thought.

i put my book down and walk my way into the kitchen, hoisting myself onto the kitchen counter next to kiara. “so, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“we are heading to the boneyard tonight for drinks, you are staying home.” john b says with a smirk.

“no fair! what am i supposed to do all night by myself?” i ask.

“i have some ideas.” jj says, all of us whipping our heads towards him. john b and kiara shooting daggers into his head, pope trying not to laugh, and me with a blush painted across my face. “hey! it was a joke! c’mon, let the poor child come, jb.” jj says walking up to me, putting an arm around my shoulders.

i squint my eyes at him. “first of all, not a child. second, thank you but i can fight my own battles.” i turn to john b. “pretty please, with a cherry on top?” my puppy dog eyes go in full swing l, which i know john b can never say no to.

“fine! but don’t get too fucked up tonight, i don’t feel like dealing with your drunk ass all night.” he says, causing me to jump off the counter and hug him.

“thank you! thank you! thank you!” i squeeze him tight. “you will not regret this! i swear!”

little did i know, i would eat those words.

kiara and i walk onto the beach, the party is swinging. i see friends from school, neighbors, all the pogues i know and love. they all sport some sort of drink in their hand, joint in their mouth, and smile on their face. this is how i always want my life to be.

“is it all that it’s cut out to be?” i hear a familiar voice say. as i turn around, i see jj with two cups in his hand and a joint behind his ear. “i gotta say, this is probably the best party of the season.”

he hands me the cup and i take a sip, looking at kiara who’s giving us shifty eyes. “she’s loving it so far, right y/n?”

i look in between both of my friends and nod, sipping the drink. “oh yeah, definitely fulfilling all my expectations.”

silence falls over all of us and i see kiara smile like she has a plan. she’s setting me up. “oh shit, i see someone from work. i’ll catch up with y’all in a bit!” she says before walking away, turning her head back to me to wink.

jj digs his feet in the sand beneath and i sip my beer.

“so?” we both say in unison, causing us to laugh.

“no, you ca-” i start.

“you talk fir-” jj adds in, cutting me off. we both look at each other and smile. “you first.”

i smile and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “i was just wondering how everything has been with you? i feel like we only ever see each other in passing.”

jj looks up at the sky and back down to me. “same old, same old. nothing to complain about. just living my best life. well, trying to. how about you?”

“now that schools out, i feel more free. i’ve been able to do things that i wanna do.” i say with a smile.

“oh yeah, like what?” jj asks.

“well,” i start. “reading, going to the beach, working, and a-” jj laughs, cutting me off. “w-what’s so funny?”

“you’re such a dork.” he says with a sip of his beer.

i narrow my eyes at him. “and why’s that?”

“reading? working? c’mon, it’s summer! let loose a bit, would ya? i feel like you’re so wound up that your body rejects fun. always got your head in a book or some shit.”

i stand there, staring at him. was he right? kind of. but it was still an asshole thing to say. “fuck you.”

he scoffs. “what’s that for? i’m just telling the truth, honey.”

the stupid pet names, god he just made my blood boil and my brain foggy with wild thoughts. “i know how to have fun. how to ‘let loose’ or whatever.” i say, pointing my finger at him.

“needa see it to believe it, kid.” he nudged my shoulder.

i turn and look at him slowly. “is that a challenge, maybank?”

“it’s only a challenge if you want it to be a challenge, routledge.” he winks at me.

i stare at him with a smirk. “you’re so on.” i quickly down my cup. “let’s go get more beer, shall we?”

the night flies by with the more drinks i down. i was never usually a big drinker, per say, but with jj’s cocky smile and tone replaying in my head, i knew i had to prove him wrong. after a few rounds of drinking games, i look at jj and flip him off. pride was written all over my face. he grins at me, tipping his cup towards me in kind of salute. but when i look to my brother, it’s a different story.

“are you seriously fucked up right now?” he asks, arms crossed, sarah following close behind him.

my body seemed unable to take this situation seriously leading me to laugh in his face. “so it’s okay when you do it, but when i do it? oh, i’m the bad guy.” i slur my words. “i’m having fun! isn’t that what you want?”i hear my voice raising and people looking at me, but i feel invincible. “jeez, john b, i let loose for one goddamn night!”

he towers over me. “pull it together.” he whispers. “we’re leaving.” i watch as john b storms out, sarah shooting me an apologetic look before following after him.

“i’m not going anywhere! fuck you!” my voice drags out the ‘you’ as i flip the air off. i watch as jj and john b talk before turning around to get another drink. but before i can get it, i’m being lifted in the air and put over someone’s shoulder. “hey!? what-what the fuck!?” i look around and recognize the blonde hair under the backwards baseball cap. “jj, i swear to god! put me down!” i hit his back with my fists.

“no can do, missy. i made this mess, i gotta clean it up. excuse us.” jj maneuvers us through the crowd, his hand firmly resting on my thighs as he holds me. when i realize he’s definitely not putting me down, i stop fighting and rest myself against his back. “i hate you, ya know? i really do.”

he lightly swats the back of my thigh, causing a slight groan to come out. a groan that was a bit pornographic for my liking. “y/n routledge, did you just moan?” he teases me as he carries me to the van.

my face turns a bright shade of crimson. “no i did not, shut up.” i attempt to hide myswlf in jj’s back, wanting to disappear from the world.

“ya know, i’ve pictured you having your fair share of kinks but i gotta say, spanking wasn’t on that list.” he jokes, making me hit his back again.

“i hate you, i hate you, i hate you.” i keep repeating.

“are you saying that so i’ll spank ya again or?” he laughs menacingly.

i hit his back. “you’re the worst.”

“all in a days work, princess.” he says as we finally get to the van.

the ride was short but felt like an eternity. i felt jj’s eyes burning into me as i sat across from him in the van. the second he put me down, an almost uncomfortable silence fell over us.

once we pulled up to our house, i quickly rushed inside and hid myself in my room. i heard kie and pope calling my name but i was too flustered to even look back. my brain felt like it was going a mile a minute of thoughts about jj and his stupid mouth and stupid hands that i so badly wanted all over my body. “god brain, shut up!” i whisper to myself, the drunkenness still apparent in my body. i throw myself on my bed and cover my head with my pillow, attempting to drift off to sleep.

jj laid on top of me, kissing down my exposed chest. “fuck, i need you so bad, y/n.” he murmurs as i moan. he finally gets to my lower stomach, breathing heavily. “i wanna taste you so bad, can i taste you, please?” he begs me.

“fuck, please, jj. please.” i say. he lowers himself more, kissing the inside of my thighs. he moves my underwear to the side and-

my body shoots up.

a dream.

it was just a dream. a stupid, fucking dream. i feel beads of sweat pouring down my face and a light headache, probably from the drinking. i’m uncomfortable, mainly because of the wild sex dream i just woke myself up from but also because i’m dying of thirst. i reach over for my water bottle next to my bed but it’s empty. “for fucks sake.” the alarm clock blinks 5:36. everyone should be asleep and by everyone, i specifically mean jj. so the coast should, hypothetically, be clear.

i get up and contemplate my next move but my body is screaming at me that we need water. with a sigh, i open my door and sneak into the kitchen. i walk past kie passed out on the pull out couch with pope on the floor. no sign of jj, which is good. i quickly refill my water bottle and try to tip toe my way back into my room but that’s when i hear the front door open.

“why are you up?” jj asks, throwing his lighter down on the table.

i freeze under his stare, unable to form a coherent sentence. my brain is flooded with the images from my dream, the feeling of his hand smacking my ass, and just the overall existence of jj maybank.

“i just needed some water.” i say quickly before trying to walk back to my room.

i feel him walk fastly behind me, lightly grabbing my arm. “not so fast, i wanted to talk to you. are you all good? you kinda ran inside once we got home. i’m sorry if i-”

i cut him off before he could finish his apology. “jj, please! don’t apologize.” i say awkwardly, not being able to even look at him. “i’m fine, i was just drunk and tired. i swear, i’m good.”

i try to walk away again but he stops me. “y/n, please. did i do something that made you uncomfortable? or upset? i’m sorry i said your uptight or whatever, it was just a joke.” he seems freaked out, talking super fast.

“jj, hey, i’m alright. everything is good, okay? it’s not anything you said…it’s just….” i look down at his hand that’s still holding my arm, it’s now or never.

“what? what is it, y/n?” he asks with a pleading look in his eyes.

without a second thought, i stand up on my tippy toes and connect our lips. the kiss, at first, was a little tense. but once it started, i felt confident and slipped my tongue into his mouth. it caught jj by surprise because once he pulled away, he looked at me in shock, lips swollen. “w-what was that for?”

“trying to ‘let loose’ because if i do recall, someone said that my body ‘rejects fun’.” my voice is laced in sarcasm as i shoot him a glare. “but if you are too uptight to do that then i guess i’ll go back to bed.” i say with a smirk, walking away.

“damn you, woman.” he says before pulling me back into his chest, connecting our lips once more. the kiss feels needy as his hands paw up my body. he starts on my waist and makes his way slowly up, stopping at my chest. “is this okay?” he says out of breathe.

“jj?” i ask.

“yeah?”

“don’t fucking stop.” we start to kiss again. i grab his shirt and pull him into my room quickly. we don’t break our lips apart once, navigating my door through touches. once we’re finally in, we make our way to my bed. he stops just before hitting my bed, leading me to push jj down on it. “is this too much?”

“honestly? it’s not enough.” he smiles as i make my way over to him. i stand in between his legs and he looks up at me with that cocky smile i wish to just slap off. “if i knew this was your idea of letting loose, i would’ve told you a long time ago.” he says, making me laugh. we look down at each other as his hands slowly tug the bottom of my shirt. “c-can i?”

“please.” i almost beg. he takes my shirt off and i feel his breathe hitch. he looks at me in my bra, his hand tracing circles on my exposed stomach. “w-what?”

“you’re just fucking incredible.” he says as his hands go up to the back of my bra and unhook it. i feel all the air leave my body as he does this. he’s not real, he can’t be. “let me know if you wanna stop.” i nod quickly as his hands go up and cup my breast, causing a moan to escape my lips. “there it is, that’s the sound i wanted to here.” he squeezes them, pinching one of my nipples. “god, it’s like music to my fucking ears.”

he begins to pepper kisses up my stomach and stops to connect his lip to my nipple. “jesus christ, jj.” my hand goes to his hair. “fuck.”

he looks up with a grin. “not too loud now, don’t wanna wake anyone up.” he looks back at the closed door. i nod and he reconnects his lips, going back and forth between my nipples. once he’s done, his kisses go up my neck and focus on one spot, making me bite my lip to quiet myself. he continues up to my jaw then kisses my lips again passionately. “wanna fuck you so bad.” he groans, pressing his hard duck against my exposed stomach.

“please, jj, please.” i feel like putty under his touch. “please fuck me.”

he pulls away and looks into my eyes. “are you sure?” he asks me for reassurance, which i give a nod to. “i-i just don’t want this to fuck things up between us…or your brother. god, i’m an awful friend.” he says pressing his forehead against mine. “i broke like the number one rule ever.”

“jj, look at me. i’ve wanted this for as long as i can remember. i always wanted you. who gives a fuck what john b says? i need you, jj, please.” i sound awfully needy but it feels like i’m not even in control of my body at this point. it feels like i’ve been possessed by a more confident and hornier version of myself. i let my hand go down his clothed body and stop right before his hard dick. i lightly trace it with my fingers and smile innocently at him, looking into his eyes that he’s rolling back. “please, jj.”

“fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, i swear.” he lays me back on the bed, throwing his shirt off quickly behind him. i try to work my shorts off but he beats me to it, sliding them down with my underwear. “if you want me to stop, just-”

“i know.” i smile at him sweetly. he nods and pulls his pants down, kicking them off to the side. his cock springs up and hits his stomach, already coated in precum. he climbs on top of me, his hip pressing into my center, causing me to moan. “fuck, jj.”

his hands travel down to my core, which has been aching for him all day. he slides his fingers into me and groans at the feeling. “jesus, you’re fucking soaked.” he says as he slides his fingers in and out of my hole.

“i had a dream about you.” i admit, quietly.

“w-what?” he stops and stares at me.

“i had a dream about you, right before i went out to get my water.” i say, squirming for any relief. “you were…you were going down on me. fuck-” he continues his fast pace in my soaking cunt.

“yeah?” he says with a sort of darkness in his eyes. i bite into his arm when he touches my clit, rubbing fast circles into it. “how it feel, princess?”

i nod, holding back my cries of pleasure. “f-felt so good, jj. you make me feel so good.”

he takes his fingers out of me and coats his cock in my slick, giving himself a few rubs before lining himself up with me. “r-ready?” he looks down at me.

“yes.” i barely get the word out before he sticks his cock inside of me, causing me to scratch down his back. “jesus fuck!” i exclaim, feeling my eyes roll back as he goes further and further in me. the pain stings, tears pricking my eyes.

“it’s okay, baby, i’ll go slow.” he says with a kiss to my cheek, wiping away the tears. his hips slowly start to move against me. once he’s fully in, he picks up his pace and brings his hand back down to my clit. he rubs it and looks at me. “how’s that feel?”

“g-good. fucking good.” i stutter out, my eyes closing to bask in the pleasure.

“yeah? look at you taking my cock so well, pretty girl. i knew you could do it.” he says out of breathe. “but, sweetheart, i need you to look at me while i fuck ya, okay? wanna see that pretty face when i make you cum.”

his words were so filthy yet so sweet, making me blush. i nod and force my eyes open, staring into his sparky blue eyes.

“there she is, my good girl.” his praise was enough to make me cum right then and there. i felt his movements get quicker and quicker as his cock slid in and out of me. “jesus, i don’t know how long i’m gonna last. you-you got me riled up, honey.” he bites his lip looking at me. i bite his arm again, trying to quiet my moans.

his fingers continue to work on my clit. i felt the pressure in my stomach building up and about to release. “jay….fuck jj. i-i’m gonna….i’m gonna cum.” i cry out in a whisper.

“go ahead baby, cum on my cock. i got ya.” my hands reached his back again scratching it up, i bite lip mip as i come undone on jj. tears leave my eyes as i ride out my high, a few curses leaving my mouth as well.

i look up at jj, who’s panting and staring down at my body. “fuck, i’m gonna cum. w-where do ya…where should i cum?”

“cum inside me, jj.” his eyes almost pop out of his head. “i’m on the pill, i trust ya. cum inside me, baby, please.” i flash him my puppy dog eyes.

he brings his face down closer to me, hiding it in the crook of my neck as he cums. “fuck, you are such a good girl.” i hear him whisper as he bites down onto my shoulder to hide his moan. his cock twitches inside of me. he goes slower and slower until he completely stops, collapsing on top of me. we lay there for a minute, tangled up with each other and panting for breath. he slowly takes himself out of me, a sharp breathe leaving my mouth as he does so. he grabs a towel off of the ground and cleans us both up. he’s gentle with it, bringing the towel slowly down my thighs and lightly rubbing my core with the cloth. he throws the towel on the ground and lays down next to me, we both look up at the ceiling, unable to speak.

“so?” we both say in unison, making us laugh.

i turn on my side to look at him. “you first this time.”

he turns to look at me, pushing a strand of hair sticking against my sweaty forehead. “you okay? you need anything?” i shake my head no and smile at him, god he was a dream. “t-thank you for that…it was…”

i laugh. “did you just thank me for having sex with you? and you say i’m the dork.”

he blushes and runs a hand down his face. “shut up, you know what i mean. i just…i’ve been wanting this for awhile. and not just sex i mean…like all of you. god, i sound so dumb.” he looks up in embarrassment.

“no you don’t, stop that. look at me.” he turns to me and i run a hand across his face. “i have to. you’re all i’ve like ever wanted, as stupid as it sounds. jj, you mean the world to me.”

he kisses my forehead lightly and pulls me close. “i feel the exact same way.”

we lay like and talk about everything and nothing at the same time until the sun comes up. my eyes are fluttering shut as i feel him start to get up. “mmm where ya going?” i try to hold him closer.

“need to leave before everyone wakes up.” i pout at him and he brings his hands to my face and kisses me gently. “believe me, this ain’t the last you’ll be seeing of me, sweetheart. i’m not letting you go that easy.”

he gets up and puts his clothes on, kissing me once more. “jj?” i break the kiss.

“what is it, honey?” he asks, looking me in the eyes.

“i won the challenge.” i say with a laugh, causing him to smile.

“shut up.” he flips me off with a smirk as he leaves my room quietly.

i lay back in my bed with a satisfied grin. so much for being uptight now, huh?

A/N: i just started obx so if y’all want some more fics pls request them!

[iznsfw]

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

“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.

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. 

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.

[sqyyadina]

A JOINT PRAYER.

Pairing: Lorraine Warren X Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Tags: fluff, first kiss, period - typical homophobia.

Summary: You weren't raised to worship any God, but Lorraine Warren is starting to make you believe.

Author’s Note: I'd take a bullet for this woman. This is also on my AO3!

“We’d like to take you to the movies tonight. To thank you.”

Her voice is as honey as her perfectly curled hair, and as Lorraine hands you a porcelain cup of tea, you revel in the way your hands briefly ghost past each other.

Though you’ve worked as a secretary for the Warrens for well over a year now, you can’t help but feel intimidated as you sit on their plush couch, nursing your tea, the smiling couple sitting beside you. Their combined gaze is nearly suffocating, as if you are consumed by a demon of your own and they’re trying to rid you of it.

“Thank me? Whatever for?” You ask gently, head cocked to the side in question while you sip on the chamomile you’ve been offered.

“You’ve been a great help to us as of late.” Ed adds, a protective hand patting his wife’s thigh. You hate to admit it, you do, he’s truly a lovely man, but every time Ed begins to speak, you just wish he was out of the picture entirely. You wish that could have been your thumb rubbing circles into Lorraine’s plaid skirt; your lips pressing a kiss to her forehead wrinkle every time she got too focused on her Bible.

But it wasn’t you.

It was him, and it would always be him. You saw the way they looked at each other, the way he sang to her when he thought they were alone in the office. They were practically destined to be together. It’s cliché to say that it made you sick, but there genuinely were nights in which you felt feverish over the fact that Lorraine Warren would never be yours.

“Oh, you flatter me…” You hum back, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ears. “Really, all I do is organize files… how much of a help can that be?”

You’re much more sheepish than the two sitting across from you, and it shows. Lorraine, ever the investigator, the curious mind, always searching across the face of the person she’s speaking to as if it’s a map into their soul, picks up on your shyness immediately. She always does.

You know that Lorraine has a nurturing spirit, but you rarely expect her comforting gestures. That’s what makes it so special. That’s why it gives you pause when she leans forward to press a warm hand to your knee.

“Please, don’t deprecate yourself.” Her tone is stern, like she truly means to command you into being kinder to yourself, but her voice is so delicate and her smile so warm and inviting that you soften into her minimal touch and nod your head. “Really, you have no idea how having you around has improved our lives.”

You feel your face turn hot at that last sentence, and you fail to maintain eye contact with the older woman any longer. Gently bouncing you heeled foot against the ground, you giggle lightly, and bat a hand as if to dismiss what she’s said.

“You’re too kind…” You hum back, slowly lifting your head again to meet her gaze once again. At this point, you’ve all but forgotten that Ed is even present. “I’m not sure I believe you, but I’d love to go to the movies.”

It’s without pause that Ed claps his hands together and rises to his feet. He says something, quite loud, but you quickly forget what it is. It startles you, to say the least, and you jump back a bit, your tea threatening to slosh onto your blouse. You notice that Lorraine’s hand stays put on your thigh, though, and only leaves once it’s given you a few gentle pats to settle your nerves. She stands as well, always following her husband’s footsteps. You quickly join them, always following Lorraine’s.

“Let’s see something scary!” Ed grins, searching around the room for a newspaper that may have the local theater’s lineup.

“Oh, do you not get enough of a fright out of our daily lives?” Lorraine jokes with that tender laugh of hers, patting her husband on the back and looking at the paper over his shoulder.

“No, I don’t.” Ed replies simply, and plants a kiss on Lorraine’s cheek.

It makes your stomach turn.

“What would you like to see, dear?” You realize that she’s turned her attention back to you. You stumble forward, as if both of your legs had gone numb in the few moments that you had spent sitting on the couch.

You really do hate to agree with Ed, but most of the movies offered sound utterly boring. The thought did cross your mind that watching a horror film would allow you to look to Lorraine for comfort under the guise of fear, which immediately influenced your decision. Sufficed to say, the Warrens’ ghost stories had both satiated your hunger for fright, and completely desensitized you to it, yet you figured you could act scared enough to win a little more of Lorraine’s touch.

Your first few weeks, of course, you had been absolutely terrified of the previously haunted artifacts that your employers always brought home, but with the fervor of their exorcisms and the frequency of their jobs, there isn’t a whole lot that you hadn’t seen nor heard. You had become primarily neutral when it came to horror, but maybe that was because of Lorraine’s calming presence and Ed’s story-telling ability that made the murderous dolls much less terrifying.

“I think I’d like something scary. It is almost Halloween, after all.” You smile to the older woman before pointing to a certain line of text. “This one has the word ‘massacre’ in the title… I don’t believe you can get much scarier than that!”

Ed quickly makes his approval known, and Lorraine playfully rolls her eyes at him before giving his arm a light squeeze.

“I suppose that’s alright.” She hums, her eyes focusing on the page for a second longer. You’ve always known Lorraine to be the bookkeeper of their operation, and suspected she was always the one in charge of appointment dates and important phone numbers. When she rattled off a list of movie times, Ed already having moved to re-read the sports section, your suspicions were proven right.

‘How about eight?” you muse, looking down at your wrinkled dress and chipping nail polish. “It will give me time to change. And fix my hair… and my nails…” You had expected the weather to be bearable this time of year, but you had been burdened by particularly warm weather that caused your hair to frizz uncontrollably. You certainly shouldn’t have chanced long sleeves.

Lorraine, leaving her husband to his muttering about the Yankees, took the half step closer to place her hand on your shoulder. It was shockingly warm, but not at all a warm that you disliked. A comforting warm, that you could enjoy even on a day as sweltering as this one.

“You look beautiful.” She hums, nearly whispering it, as if she doesn’t want anyone else in the world to hear. “As always.” Lorraine adds before disappearing behind your back. She’s picked up your now empty teacup and makes her way to living room door. “We’ll pick you up at seven thirty.” She winks in your direction before exiting the room.

Your knees feel numb, and you try your hardest to wipe the dumb smile off of your face, but it doesn’t disappear, even as you crawl into your car and turn on the radio that just happens to be playing some cheesy love song.

The honking from outside startles you. That’s easy to say; there’s not a lot that doesn’t startle you. You just hadn’t expected them to be so punctual.

You had been sitting in front of your mirror for a little over an hour now, staring at every little detail of your visage to make sure everything was just right, even down to the placement of your beauty marks. It was honestly quite hard to focus, what with Lorraine’s compliment ringing in your ears. You didn’t even need to apply any rouge to your cheeks, they were still so hot.

Now donning a shorter sleeved blouse and a much lighter weight skirt, hair re-curled and nails painted perfectly, you cheerfully snatched your bag and raced out the front door.

Wiggling into the back seat of their fancy new Chevy that Ed couldn’t stop bragging on, you shoot a smile at Lorraine, who returns it through the rearview mirror. You quickly look away after that, yet you can still feel her eyes bore into you. You might just be making that up, but you’re far too scared to glance back up and check.

The drive is primarily quiet, save for Ed’s singing along to the radio, and you even find yourself enjoying his presence for once. He really does sound like Elvis when he tries hard enough.

By the time you arrive at the theater, your heart is racing. Something about sitting in Lorraine’s presence for more than ten minutes at a time causes you a great deal of panic. Despite knowing the woman all this time, you still find her completely enthralling, yet endlessly terrifying.

When she exits the car first to open your door with a playful smile, you feel your pounding heart drop to your stomach. You felt like you were on a date, except your date had brought her husband along. Plus, there’s simply no reality in which said date reciprocates the ways in which you are feeling for her. It’s a very hard pill for you to swallow, but you’ll need to keep reminding yourself that you in fact are not going steady with this woman, but are in fact her employee, and should be furiously professional tonight, no matter what.

It's when you step out of the car that you deeply regret your outfit decision for the second time today. The day had quickly turned to night before you had realized, and the evening’s chill was starting to settle in. You hug yourself tightly as the three of you enter the theater, trying desperately to distract yourself from the cold by figuring out what you’d like to eat.

Your unease must’ve been immediately noticed by the woman that notices absolutely everything that happens around her, because it’s within seconds that you feel a sweater draped over your shoulders. You perk up and whip your head to the side only to catch Lorraine smoothing down your collar.

“I brought an extra, just in case.” She winks at you again, a knowing smirk on her lips. She must’ve picked up on how haphazardly you tend to make decisions, and you appreciated it more than Lorraine could ever know. It wasn’t often that people remembered much about you, so for her to be so prepared for you made your chest swell.

Lorraine sweater is just heavy enough to feel like a hug, and it smells heavenly. Just like her. You don’t want to seem like a weirdo, but you’d be perfectly content to spend the next hour with your nose buried in the soft material, surrounded by the warm vanilla scent of whatever expensive perfume Lorraine wears. Or maybe she just naturally smells that good. You wouldn’t put it past her.

Your attention turns back to the giant menu board as you pull your arms through the sleeves of the sweater, and right away you could feel your brain go silent. It was impossibly difficult for you to decide, especially when there were so many options. That, paired with the steep prices and the very lackluster salary you make as the Warrens’ glorified secretary, make your brain completely stop its functioning for a second. Your worry makes its way into your hands, which fiddle with the sleeves of the sweater that are just an inch too long for your arms.

Lorraine, yet again magically anticipating your every need, places a firm hand on the small of your back, lowering herself to practically purr into your ear.

“Do you need help choosing?” She’s just close enough that her voice, as low as it is, drowns out all of the madness of the bustling theater, and the commotion inside your mind. `

You nod up to her, chewing on your lower lip as the two of you glance over the menu together.

“I can’t decide…” you begin, eyebrows furrowed as you dart over the row of boxes of candy before you. “… between chocolate or popcorn.”  You’re getting dangerously close to the front of the line now, and it’s really beginning to wear on your nerves, but Lorraine’s ringed fingers lightly rubbing into your back is calming you tenfold.

The taller woman laughs gently, and you wince a little in fear that she’s making fun of you for having difficulty with something so simple, but you’ve never known Lorraine to be a cruel woman, so the thought is easily dismissed.

“Silly girl.” She says gingerly, giving you a light pat before dropping her hand. “Get both. I’ll make sure Ed pays for it.”

Your cheeks burn once again, and while you yearn for the feeling of her hand to replace itself anywhere on you, you find that Lorraine is already a gift from God and there’s no use praying for any more from the woman.

“Thank you!” you giggle softly, returning the clairvoyant’s playful smile with one of your own as you step forward to the concession counter.

Ed begins rattling off all the things that he wants, and it’s yet again that you remember he’s even there. You figure that if a man as boisterous as Ed Warren can be so easily forgotten in your mind by the likes of his wife, you must truly be under a spell. You shyly give your order when Lorraine ushers you in front of her, hands fiddling with your sleeves again. When you begin to reach for your purse, a hand lightly swats at your own. You really don’t find it necessary for the people that already pay your living wage to give you anymore, and yet you don’t deem it possible that Lorraine will let you pay for anything yourself.

With treats and tickets in hand the three of you make your way into the theater, Ed taking the exact seats that you would have chosen yourself. It’s by a miracle— or rather very careful planning on your behalf— that you’re sitting next to Lorraine, with Ed on her other side. You silently cheer yourself on for what you believe to be such careful maneuvering, because there is just no way in the world that you would spend the next two hours sitting next to someone who will probably talk over the entire movie anyway.

You settle in as the opening credits of the film begin, and right away you feel anxious. Even in a room full of people and the ever so comforting presence of your favorite demonologist by your side, it’s hard not to be scared in a dark room watching a movie about a psycho killer. Your leg begins to bounce nervously as you begin shoveling popcorn in your mouth, anticipating the many scares that are soon to come your way.

And they do come, in multitudes. You’re jumping out of your seat nearly every minute that goes by. The Warrens, as cemented in their occupations as they are, jump a few times as well, which comes as quite the comfort. You had seen them frightened before, when assessing houses for possible spirits, but neither seemed to be as much of a scaredy cat as you.

You’re granted the solace of Lorraine’s hand when she offers it to you about halfway through the movie. It’s after you jump at the sudden sound of a chainsaw revving up, and she must take pity on you, but you don’t care about the implication because you take the hand as quickly as it’s offered. As you’re sitting to her left, you notice that she’s come to the theater with her signature rosary wrapped around her hand. The cool beads do give you a bit of alarm when you first feel them, but then you realize that it only comes as added protection. You’re not sure what the power of the Spirit can do for you in this moment, but you’re very happy that Lorraine is always prepared against whatever dark forces she’s prepared against.

Sitting next to her, hand-in-hand, Lorraine’s gravitational pull is so strong that eventually you find yourself fully leaned against her arm, gripping her hand for dear life. It doesn’t seem to bother her one bit, and if the lights were any brighter, you’d be able to notice a smile planted firmly on her rosy lips.

Just as you feel yourself in a safe position, completely relaxed and feeling entirely safe (or as safe as you can feel during a movie like this), the movie’s third act kicks into gear and you feel your heart start to beat about a million beats a second. You feel a wave of panic wash over you, and it came out of absolutely nowhere. You swallow hard a few times, looking around the theater to keep yourself calm, to remind yourself that there’s not really a chainsaw wielding maniac running around the place, but it doesn’t do much to settle your nerves.

Before you even notice the stinging in your eyes, before you can stop from embarrassing yourself, your cheeks are wet with tears. You swipe at them a few times with your free hand, hoping to not draw too much attention to yourself as you begrudgingly pull yourself from Lorraine’s grasp.

“I… I’ll be right back.” You whisper next to her ear, praying to God that she didn’t notice the crack in your voice.

You can hear her whisper something back, but not well enough to register it, because you’re already out of your seat and rushing to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, you assess the damage to your makeup.

Your mascara has run down to your neck, and your lips are all smudged from your nervous popcorn eating.

… And you had left your purse, with all of your extra makeup and tissues, beneath your seat.

You felt on the verge of a breakdown, but the very last thing you wanted to do right now was to sit on the floor of this horribly rotten bathroom and cry until your eyes gave out.

You had been staring at yourself in the mirror between broken sobs for God knows how long until you heard someone else enter. Deeply ashamed of your appearance, you turned your back to the door, using a damp towel to try and clean up your makeup.

Then you heard a lock click.

But it was unlike the lock of a stall door.

Then the echoing tap of a pair of kitten heels.

You tense up, too scared of embarrassment to turn around to face whatever movie attendee, or, as you now feared, possible murderer, you were now trapped in this bathroom with.

That’s when you felt the hand press against your back.

“Are you alright?”

That voice was too kind to belong to a murderer.

“Lorraine!” You nearly scream, tossing a hand over your heart to clutch the imaginary pearls that you couldn’t even afford if you tried. “My goodness, you startled me!” You laugh softly, sniffling while you turn to a sink to wash your hands. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She hums, voice barely above a whisper. She’s standing right behind you now.

You’re awfully embarrassed to find that there are no more paper towels in the bathroom, and you have to wipe your hands on your skirt, but Lorraine doesn’t seem to notice.

No, her attention is solely on your face.

Her hand lifts up to push a wayward curl behind your ear.  It lingers there for a moment, smoothing down the rest of your hair. Her other hand sneaks its way around your waist, resting just below your belt.

“I just wanted to check on you.” She flashes you that oh-so very endearing smile in the mirror, and lightly runs her thumb below your eyes, wiping away the last remnants of your tears.

You swallow hard, chancing a glance up to her only to miss the woman’s gaze, as her eyes are now glued to your cheek, then your neck. She’s petting your hair, and each stroke is sending a shiver down your spine.

“Oh no, no…  I’m alright…” you manage to mumble out, your voice a mere breathe that hitches when Lorraine’s hands maneuver you to turn to face her.

“Good.” She purrs, leaning in until your foreheads nearly meet. “I wouldn’t want my baby to get too scared.”

Dear God.

You didn’t often take His name in vain, but this felt an appropriate time to do so.

Your heart is beating so hard that you’re worried you may pass out. 

She called you her baby. You were hers.

Your body betraying you, you practically melt into the taller woman, your hands finding themselves on her hips, holding onto the material of her skirt for dear life.

Lorraine calculates, as is her way, but only for a moment, before her hand slides down to gently grasp your cheek and pull you closer into her.

You gasp into her, her lips latching onto your own before you can even remind yourself that you were meant to remain professional tonight. It seems you’re well past the concept of professionalism by now.

It takes you a moment, a very brief moment, to soften into her kiss. You’re like putty in her hands, molding into the curve of her chest and pressed so hard against her that you’re sure you’ve become one being.

But you haven’t, and before you know it, she’s pulled away.

It takes everything within you to not whine and fuss at her for being so rude as to pull herself away from you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” She says rigidly, fixing her hair in the mirror with one hand, the other still latched onto your hip. “But you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to.” She laughs a little, finally turning back to meet your gaze.

“I…” You’re at a loss for words. Never in a million years would you have expected for Lorraine Warren to waltz in and kiss you out of the blue like that. You must have truly racked up your good karma with the Lord, because this was enough to be considered a miracle. “I… I’ve also… wanted to… with you.” You stutter out, brain just barely conscious enough to put together a string of words.

Lorraine laughs her beautiful laugh again, her hand returning to caress your cheek.

You shut your eyes tight, laying all your weight into her hands. A thought crosses your mind – that she very well may be testing you – trying to sniff you out for being a freak – that there very well be someone right outside that door ready to ship you off to the loony bin –

That thought disappears almost immediately once Lorraine leans down to press her lips to yours again, this time much more confidently.

Her hands wander down to your hips once again, and yours are gripping into her skirt so hard that you’re sure you’ve left permanent wrinkles in the fabric. It’s impossible for you to be any closer to her now, and yet she’s still pulling you tighter, lips coaxing small whimpers from your own.

You’ve gone completely lightheaded now, the lack of oxygen making you a bit dizzy on your feet. Luckily, you’re so sustained by Lorraine’s embrace that there’s just no chance of you falling over.

Her hands threaten lower, her kisses become sloppier, her thigh situating itself between your legs so that you can press your weight there and feel a shock through your entire system unlike you’ve ever experienced before. Lorraine’s whispering some string of messy whispers. Maybe a prayer, much like the one you’re reciting in your own head for someone, anyone, to make this moment last until your dying breath.

Your joint prayer comes to a halt when you’re so rudely interrupted by an angry knock on the door. Lorraine quickly pulls away from you and immediately begins wiping her smudged makeup in the mirror.

You’re stuck in space, stood blinking, mouth hanging open, feet unsure of where to take you.

“Go get in a stall.” Lorraine commands, a gentle finger wiping at your tongue to collect all of the saliva that you had produced in the midst of your affair. She flashes you a sickeningly sweet look before turning you around and patting you towards the stall, where you quickly hide, being able to take her command even though you’re sure your brain can’t conjure any other actions.

Lorraine’s heels tap towards the door, and where she exclaims how sorry she is, how silly she must be for locking the door behind her. Her voice is so pure, so normal. You’re shocked that she can find herself so calm after an event that had nearly introduced you to your maker.

When you hear a stall door click shut, you make your escape, checking your appearance in the mirror just in case. You certainly look bewildered, a little frazzled, but nothing you can’t excuse under the guise of a scary movie.

When you return to your seat, Lorraine is sat with her hand in Ed’s, her eyes glued to the screen. You sit reluctantly, reaching for your popcorn.

It’s less than a minute before she has removed her hand from her husband’s and has given it back to you.

You’re smiling much too brightly, and you can tell that your clairvoyant is smiling just the same. You’re too focused on the way that her hand feels in your own to pay any attention to the God-forsaken movie playing in front of you.

[woojirang]

𓆩♡𓆪 Stems of Affection (C.S)

Summary: Wooyoung needs to buy a pretty bouquet to confess to the reader's best friend. With just the right amount of begging, you were now at the flower shop, with the pretty florist boy whipping up a bouquet for you. Pairing: Choi San x Reader Genre: fluff, oneshot WC: 1.05K Playlist A/N: I lowkey wanted to add more to this, but it's like 3AM and I'm kinda lazy. Part of me also feels like it's good to leave the rest of the story open-ended. I might do a part 2 now that I have a pinterest collection for this story though.

Every day after school, you would pass by the local flower shop. You often marveled at the gorgeous display bouquets, which alternated daily. Monday’s floral arrangement showcased white hydrangeas and lilies, Tuesday’s had lilies, lisianthus, and roses, Wednesday’s showcased pink tulips and white and pink peonies, Thursday’s offered peach roses, mini carnations, and lilies, and Friday’s boasted delphiniums, viburnums, hydrangeas, roses, and jasmines. Each day as you passed by, you admired the effort the florist put into the display bouquets, yet you never had an occasion to buy flowers—until today.

“Y/N-ie, please! I’m begging you! I really don’t have time to get her flowers!” Wooyoung pleaded endlessly with clasped hands.

“Well, nobody told you to go and whisper sweet nothings, promising you’d buy her flowers and all that stuff. I have to go home and study for midterms too, you know,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at him.

Wooyoung and your best friend had been talking for about two weeks now, and he needed to make an elaborate confession because he had promised her he would, without planning a single thing. All he ever thinks about is the idea of a relationship with her, if not himself.

“Y/N, you literally pass by a flower shop on your way home. All you have to do is stop by and buy some flowers for me. I don’t care what flowers you get, just make sure they’re pretty, and I’ll pay you back, trust!” he asserted, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. You sigh before crossing your arms giving him a “Fine.” before he gives you a short celebratory hug because now all he had to worry about was his dance practice after school.

As you headed to the flower shop, your thoughts were swarmed with the subjects you needed to study for your midterms. You already had a lot on your plate, but if buying flowers for your best friend would make her happy, there was no harm in stopping by. You just wished Wooyoung had bought the flowers himself to make it more meaningful.

Today, the shop had many display bouquets—roses, lilies, carnations, forget-me-nots, and hydrangeas in different pastel shades. You couldn’t help but admire the amount of effort that went into arranging the flowers, considering colors, textures, and proportions. As your eyes were drawn to a bouquet with tulips and irises, someone approached you.

“Interested in that bouquet, I see?” he asked, cocking his head and smiling. Startled, you jumped back slightly, placing your hand over your heart.

The boy chuckled, revealing his sweet dimples. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I just saw you admiring the bouquet,” he apologized.

As you got a good look at him, you noticed his short black hair, an adorable feline smile, and his outfit—a white button-down shirt paired with dark blue jeans.

“You’re all good... the bouquets are really pretty,” you reassured him with a smile. “Thanks, I made them!” he replied, feeling proud of his work and happy that someone appreciated them. “Really?” You mouthed a 'wow' as your eyes widened, and he took note of it. “Were you looking for anything in particular?” he asked, returning to the task at hand. “Right. Flowers. What are some nice confession flowers?” you asked as you fixed the cuffs of your uniform. “Confession flowers… are you planning on confessing to someone?” he teased with a smirk. “Nope, for a lazy friend,” you replied. He mouthed an 'ah~' and nodded in understanding.

“Well… if you want to be basic, a couple of red roses would do but…” he started to trail off, walking into the shop and gesturing for you to follow him inside. You did as he directed. “If I were to confess to someone, I’d want to make sure the bouquet is as gorgeous as the person I’m giving it to. Pink roses represent admiration and gratitude, and I’d want them to know how much I appreciate them and how thankful I am for them being in my life. So, let’s use four pink roses as a centerpiece, yeah?” He gave you a polite smile as he placed the pink roses on the table before looking for other flowers to complete the arrangement.

“I’d also add some lilies because they signify prosperity and ambition, which are important for new beginnings with someone. Add some peonies for good fortune and some greenery… I like baby’s breath because it makes the bouquet look delicate, and some white hydrangea sprigs.” As he put together the bouquet, you noticed how extravagant it looked... and how expensive it was going to end up being.

As he finished wrapping it up with a ribbon, you were amazed at how well his hands worked on the intricate details.

“Would that be all for you today?” he asked, leaning over the register, tilting his head with a smile, showing off his dimple which you started to adore the more you saw it. “Yep, that’ll be all. Thank you for helping me, by the way,” you said, giving him a sweet smile. “How much?” you asked as you pulled out your wallet.

He furrowed his brows at you. “Uhhh… free?” You paused. “What..?” you looked at him dumbfounded as he chuckled. “For you… consider it a gift. In fact, if you really want to pay me back, you could give me… your digits?” he said, rubbing his nape and avoiding eye contact, cringing at his own offer.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you typed your number into his phone. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name, by the way. What was it?” you asked, looking back up at him. Your eyes met for the first time since you’d entered the store, and you noted how his eyes sparkled like sweet champagne as the sun reflected on them just right.

“San, Choi San… and you?” he said, pulling his lips into a smirk.

“Y/N, L/N Y/N,” you answered before returning his phone to him. He handed you the gorgeous bouquet that you suddenly wanted to keep for yourself. Before you walked out of the store, you looked back at him. He gestured at you, mouthing “call me” as his eyes formed into crescents, and you shot him a “will do!” before you left.

Now, you had a pretty florist boy wrapped around your finger. Hooray!

Taglist: @vampzity @sanshairfollicles @rvereri @losrpark @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @vrtualsins

[euhla]

To you, who have lost yourself:

aventurine x gn!reader. a/n : guess who just broke up w their first ever bf 🤓☝️ tags. light angst, (not rlly) hurt/comfort, breakups, mainly just aven’s letter 4u. might add p2 but idk

Everything went like a dream at first; everything tastes sweet, all of Aventurine's demeanor and words always leave an impression on your mind. He was born to be a gentleman, you think.

But you should know more than anyone, that every sweet attitude and speech is a trap. A trap that pushes you over the edge of a cliff.

The cliff is that will lead you to an endless darkness.

“You look breathtaking, Ves'tacha.” and his hand always guides you.

You always loved it when you woke up in the morning, and looked at him still asleep in awe. How can there be a human who looks so stunning?

Stroking his hair, you always say good morning as soon as you see him start to open his eyes. The birds are chirping, and you both are still rotting in bed.

But saying goodbye was never in your vision. The ‘in the end, everyone you’ve ever loved will became a lesson’ was never be your wish. But you can't deny that not falling for sweet words is a lesson for you.

“This is not your fault, but mine. I.. i just need some time alone.” you are now reluctant to hear the words that came out of his mouth.

“But not breakup!” You can’t help but try to hold back your tears. But all you heard next were excuses coming out of his mouth.

How many days have passed since that day? You don't remember it anymore. You start to overworking yourself to forget it.

Forgetting how to eat on time, and how you miss sleeping with someone in your arms.

That first week was like hell, all you remember is crying. Staring at the letter you were holding, you just listened silently to Topaz—your ex's friend—excuse herself.

You ignore the letter for eight days, reluctant to open and read it. Or maybe you are afraid that you will remember everything again?

Day nine, you try to read it. Aventurine's handwriting that you've been missing all this time is clearly visible on the letter.

The “For you, who have lost yourself” writing is clearly visible on the front of the letter, written a little large by purpose.

‘Dearest,

I hope this letter is delivered safely to you.

I don't want to take back my apology. I also don't regret knowing you all this time. I can be happy and finding out about happiness all this time thanks to you. I can feel what love is thanks to you. I can live and love this life thanks to you. The other side of my heart desperately seeking for you, but it’s all too late now..

I can’t change the fact that i’ve hurt you— someone who loved me, also who’s important to me.

After spending a lot of time thinking and asking Topaz for advice, I decided to write a letter of apology—or rather the words I wish I could have said to you sooner:

Your presence always brings calm to me. I don't know how I can describe all the things you make me feel. And you are appreciated, please remember that well. You must love yourself more than you love other people.

I’m very proud of you. You are enough just as you are.

And I never lie when I praise you. I never lie when I say 'I love you'. I didn't lie when I confessed my feelings to you at that time. I never lie about everything I do and say to you.

I'm sorry I couldn't say this sooner.

I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to tell you everything, especially my past.

I'm sorry for being such a coward hiding behind my words.

I'm sorry I didn't say this directly because I knew you would hate me

I’m sorry for all my mistakes.

It was while writing this letter that I realized the real reason I asked to break up; I want you to find someone better than me. Who doesn't just rely on his words even though he is actually a coward.

All my apologies are not enough to replace your feelings which were hurt because of my actions and words.

‘To love is to let go.’ That's the advice Topaz gave me. And it took eight days for me to understand it.

So please, find someone better than me.‘

[musette22]

For the nonnie who asked: here are some of my all time favourite lengthy Stucky fics (30-200k, mostly multi chapter):

Not Easily Conquered by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFears

This, You Protect by owlet

Home Is Wherever I'm With You by cydonic

Lucky Seven by BetteNoire

Political Animals by @spacerenegades, Deisderium

Wishes and Words by wearing_tearing

A Company Man by @whtaft

Push It Real Good by spoffyumi

The Size of Perfection by @phoenike

Like Real People Do by 2bestfriends

Easy Work For Easy Pay by AustinB

Prince Charming by Brenda

What's in a Name? by levi_cas_tho, maichan

Critical Feline Mass by Kryptaria, zooeyscigar  

Ipseity by SkyisGray

Circling Back by chaya

Ain't No Grave (Can Keep My Body Down) by spitandvinegar 

The Necrofloranomicon by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)

with all my skin and bone by unicornpoe

He's All That by @spacerenegades

Monoclonius by Zenaidamacrouras1

oh meet me, my darling, where the sun sets over the barley by charlesdk @trancowboy

Coming Home by charlesdk @trancowboy

The Settler by charlesdk @trancowboy

Waking Up Slow by odetteandodile

Family Placement by notlucy

I Held You in Gloved Hands (And I’m Not Letting Go) by @voylitscope

then a small thing happened by BeaArthurPendragon

North Fork by BeaArthurPendragon

Itsy Bitsy Yoga by wearing_tearing

All Those Little Pieces by Ellessey

Bucky Barnes Gets His Groove Back & Other International Incidents @silentwalrus1

Scents and Sensibility: The Working Assassin's Guide to Supersoldier Seduction by galwednesday, silentwalrus, skellerbvvt

Coming Home For Christmas by Chiyume

Chase the Lightning From the Sky by SilverSlashes

These next ones I haven't had a chance to read yet, but I love these authors' other fics so I'm sure these are brilliant too!

lane lines by @sparkagrace

Till It Bleeds Daylight by @cable-knit-sweater

Backhoe by @zenaidamacrouras1

hey now, you're an all star (get your game on, go play) (WIP) by @buckyismybicycle

I was alone, I took a ride (I didn't know what I would find there) by @otp-holic

Till there were no more wolves in the West by @dharmasharks

better to speak or die (WIP) by @between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place

Atoms by @andrea1717

I'm sure I'm forgetting some brilliant ones, so feel free to add to this! Also, please check out these authors' other works too, they're all brilliant <3

[harrywavycurly]

Eddie’s Wish Part 5: House Party

Masterlist: here

Tag List: @miss-celestial-being @edsforehead @starrywhitenight @mrsjellymunson @5sosjay @emma77645 @akiratoro420 @elegantkoalapaper @squidscottjeans @mikromoon @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @niallerlover8022 @twilightsfairie @pausmoon @pauphs @bl4ckt00thgr1n

A/N: Now that Eddie has decided to keep you, let’s start meeting the gang shall we? Enjoy✨

“Please stop asking me if I’d had water today.” You just roll your eyes as you follow Eddie up the driveway of Steve’s house. You can tell he’s nervous so you quickly grab his hand and give it a gentle squeeze making him jump slightly at the sudden contact but then his shoulders relax making you smile.

“You get cranky when you’re dehydrated.” You state as you look around Steve’s front yard taking in how well manicured it is compared to the wild flowers and tall grass outside of Eddie’s trailer. “He’s going to know who I am.” Eddie let’s out a huff at your use of being able to hear his thoughts especially when it comes to thoughts that cause his distress. “And yes he will be able to see me.” You add as the two of you finally make it to his front door.

“How does he think you two met?” He asks as he drops your hand so he can run it thought his untamed hair before knocking on the door. You open your mouth the answer but just then the front door swings open revealing a rather happy looking Steve who immediately pulls you into a hug.

“Thank god you’re here.” Eddie raises an eyebrow as Steve pulls away and grabs you by your hand practically dragging you into his house. “I have no fucking clue what I’m doing and you’re so good at throwing house parties so I figured you’d know what needs to be done to make this party really pop.” Steve is talking a mile a minute as he leads you into the living room where his coffee table is full of party decorations.

“Good at throwing house parties?” Eddie’s voice is full of confusion making Steve roll his eyes as he turns to glare at the long haired metal head.

“Yeah? That’s where we all met? Or where you so fucked up you don’t remember?” You look at Eddie as you take a step so your slightly behind Steve, you give him a look that tells him to go along with Steve’s story.

“Oh uh yeah I kinda remember.” Eddie rubs at the back of his neck and you feel your heart twist knowing he’s nervous and uncomfortable.

“Of course he remembers,” Eddie looks at you as you walk over to him and place your arm over his shoulder immediately making him feel better. “How could he forget meeting his bestfriend?” Steve just smiles and nods as he looks at the two of you, as a memory begins flooding Eddie’s mind of the night Steve first met you.

“Who’s that chick with the staring problem?” Steve half shouts into Eddie’s ear making him wince because Steve is far too close to him to be shouting.

“Why would I know? This isn’t my party.” Eddie answers as he makes himself another drink. You look across the room at Eddie and give him a smile making him feel drawn to you. “Uh but she’s kinda cute.” He doesn’t know why he said it but he couldn’t help himself as he looked you up and down making you roll your eyes. Steve takes the opportunity to also not so subtly check you out and he nods his head in agreement.

“Oh fuck she’s coming over here.” Steve mumbles as he and Eddie straighten up and try to do their best at acting natural.

“Having fun?” You ask the two of them before you take a sip of your drink. “It’s okay that you don’t know anyone.” You tell Eddie and he feels his eyes go as wide as golf balls because it was like you could read his mind. “Oh Steve there’s someone in the living room that wants to know your secret for-”

“A good hair day? Say no more I’ll go tell them my tricks.” Steve shoots you a wink before he disappears into the crowded living room totally oblivious to the fact he hadn’t introduced himself to you so there’s no way you’d know his name yet.

“Hi Eddie.” Eddie almost chokes on his drink as you say his name as if you’ve known him his whole life.

“Uhm hello.” You laugh as you reach over and brush a few strands of his hair out of his face so you can see his big brown eyes a little better. “Do I know you?” He asks as he stares into your eyes, you watch his body visibly relax as you place your hand on his shoulder.

“Yes.” Eddie just tilts his head as you watch it click in his mind that this is a memory for Steve and not for himself.

“Holy shit.” Is all he says as he looks around and sees Steve talking to a girl who is running her hands through his hair. “Yeah this makes sense for Steve.” You laugh as you watch Steve flirt with a girl who doesn’t even exist outside of this memory.

“This is the best party ever!” Steve shouts as he turns and looks at you with a giant grin on his face, you just raise your cup to him and return the smile.

“So what do you think? Steamers and balloons or just streamers?” Steve asks making Eddie come back to the current moment, you look away from him and towards Steve who’s hands are on his hips and his cheeks are pink letting you know he’s a little flustered.

“Steamers only.” You answer as you move your arm from around Eddie’s shoulders so you can walk over to the coffee table and grab some colorful streamers. “Balloons scream birthday party not just house party rage fest.” Eddie chuckles at your use of the words rage fest because this is Hawkins and parties like that don’t happen here.

“This is why you’re here.” Steve smiles as he watches you grab the tape and you point at the ladder leaning against the wall.

“Eddie will you grab that for me?” You ask and Eddie just nods and before Steve knows it his living room looks like a party scene from one of those classic eighties movies and he claps his hands in delight because he’s always wanted to throw a great house party like this.

“Don’t forget to put the bottles on ice right before the party starts and the snacks in bowls.” You explain as you grab Eddie’s hand and head for the front door. “We will be back later.” Steve just nods before opening the door for the two of you.

“Thanks for the help.” Eddie can’t help but feel weird when he watches Steve place a completely innocent kiss to your cheek before waving the two of you off.

“Jealousy is normal.” Eddie feels his cheeks get hot as you lead him down the path towards his van. “But pointless in this situation, Steve doesn’t like me.” You add making Eddie just nod as he tries to let go of your hand but your too quick and just pull him into a hug, something he should be used to by now but he can’t help but hesitate slightly before wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re annoying.” He mumbles into your neck making you laugh as you run your hands up and down his back. He lets out a sigh as he rests his cheek on your shoulder and he knows with the height difference this probably looks incredibly ridiculous but he really doesn’t care because right now he’s relaxed and actually looking forward to Steve’s house party.

[devilheartsblog]

Here’s my very delayed World of Winx Season 2 review

Ok so it’s been like a few weeks since I watched it so I won’t have too many complaints, I’ll just list the major ones I have.

Firstly the episodes were super boring and felt dragged out. In season 1 the side plot of finding the talents was entertaining and honestly I miss the WoW show as it was fun and Ace despite being a dick, was neat. Now there’s this Neverland bullshit which makes even less sense with Captain Hook’s mega forehead and Peter Pan actually growing up, or implied to. And the Evil Queen being Tinkerbelle feels wrong especially with the romance with Matt (Peter Pan’s son)

Now, the Nemesis. Most of them were disappointing and the worst offender was Bloom’s. I didn’t vibe with the clown aesthetic. Despite being the worst one at least her creation made sense, with the shadows stealing part of her magic to corrupt. The other Nemesis just…spawn. Otherwise Virus and Banshee were my favorites and Eclipsa was alright. I liked Stella’s backstory but it contradicts things like them being on Earth for a few months. Sinka also felt she should have come before Matt’s character growth. Speaking of Matt…

I was expecting to absolutely hate him but no Sky is still the worst by a long shot. Matt is very annoying with his “I’m know more than you” attitude when he a LOSER, but at least everyone hates him for it until he gets turned to stone. Other than that I enjoyed his character and how he’s incorporated into the Winx group like when they disguise as art enthusiasts. He’s also one of the only non-villain dudes in the series to use magic, yay! However, the fact he suddenly gets better at sword fighting by acquiring a fairy blade despite pro warrior Tiger Lily saying he sucks ass at it is just plot convenient, I instead prefer his deception and acting skills which do come back when he deceives the mermaids. Another is I wish Matt got involved in Hook’s defeat, like some on. He made a great point about trusting Hook and Hook’s the one who sent Smee to kidnap him.

The Winx are alright eh, I mean, I wasn’t invested in any of them and they don’t have any story going on, they just stole Anabelle’s dream of being performers and this hot lady named Venomya hates them, and omg just bring Ace back please. The WoW show was fun as Bloom had arguments with Ace but now she and the others have near nothing as Venomya isn’t important until the very end. Onyrix isn’t really better than Dreamix, I can’t decide which one’s worse, but yeah they get it out of nowhere, at least let the Forest Spirit gift it to them it have them earn Onyrix after defeating their Nemesis smh. I’m also not sure what Onyrix does like…what’s the point?

Anyway let’s get to the villains now, starting with Jim and Smee. He’s on the Winx’s side but for the majority of the plot he’s not involved in anything, just tells Smee to kidnap Matt twice and that’s about it. He could have done like Valtor where he directly involves himself but nooooo, forget the Switzerland stuff, he’ll not do anything until the end. Smee is also a terrible comedic relief. However, I love Smee. The fact he was painted as the villain by Hook despite following his orders and was ultimately the one to take Jim down and save Neverland, MUAH, perfect. Onto not perfect, Tinkerbelle. So her whole motive was Peter Pan liked Wendy instead of her and now she mad I guess, then she falls in love with Matt and suddenly she’s…good..now? I mean, yeah that’s, Winx should just stick to one-dimensional villains. Not to mention her youtuber ass “I have made a severe and continuous lapse in judgement” ass apology, like I like that she acknowledges she treated the Neverland people horribly but don’t add “please forgive me” at the end it really shows her priorities. Another villain I like is Shaman. He’s the Shaman! He sounds like if Jack Black stuffed himself with brownies and got sleepy! Him being by Tinkerbelle’s side after she got weakened and even trying to save her and talking some sense in Tiger Lily made me wish he ended with Tinkerbelle instead of Matt.

And yeah the fact Tinkerbelle ends up with Matt, aka Peter Pan’s son, when her whole motive for being evil is Peter Pan didn’t love her………need I saw more? It’s just wrong. She should make out with the Shaman.

Anyway onto some other characters. I loved the zombie pirates in their spotlight episode but they went back to being evil kinda and don’t correct their mistake like Tiger Lily, so rip I enjoyed them a lot, and I miss the wizards. The sirens were annoying as FUCK. I only like their human designs augh. Alligator man was eh alright? He looks more like a crocodile and Crocodile man looks like an alligator. I wish they’d talk even if it was a Knut impression, it’d make their significance more meaningful.

And lastly, the plot twist in the final episode where Venomya’s a witch, Baba Yaga and got an old ashy granny design. God, the whiplash I got, I was so upset because the best part, aka her design, was not just an illusion Mrs Baba Yaga used. Bruuuh 😭. The idea of Witches being rivals with fairies is interesting but eh I don’t think we’re getting a season 3 anytime soon so yeah. Maybe they’d have introduced the Trix so maybe that was a bullet we dodged? The Trix are so overused. Anyways the ending was alright but that cliffhanger and Venomya being a granny ruined it.

That’s all I have to say. I’m getting a wicked headache and I’ll see you guys on the flipside.

[teekl-darling]

Finally reading the Invincible comics (I watched the show first), I think I’m gonna liveblog my reactions.

So far I’ve read up to the end of Issue #13, which is where season 1 ends in the animated series. And boy do I have thoughts. Spoilers below the cut.

1. William referring to himself as a “chick magnet” gave me whiplash

2. Eve cancelled for slut-shaming multiple women???

3. Black Samson had a butler?????

4. “I can always produce more offspring” It just doesn’t quite hit the same, does it?

Fascinating to see all the ways they made the show more politically correct. I am enjoying the comics, but I can see what people mean when they say the show has improved on a lot of things (not just representation-wise but also story-wise and narratively). That subway scene? WAY more devastating and impactful in the show than it was in the comics.

Plus, Rex is significantly more obnoxious in the show and I LOVE that for him, please let him shout and be annoying. Let him be a jerk outside of the fact he cheated on Eve. And yet at the same time, the show also makes him way more sympathetic?? Which I’m very much here for. In the comics, it’s just “Hey babe I’m cheating on you now lol”

In the show, we get to see that buildup of Rex’s jealousy and insecurity towards Mark (even though it is hinted at that he had a problem with cheating before Mark came into the picture). We get to see a more human side of Rex, an ugly side but a relatable one nonetheless. You can at least see where he’s coming from, even though he’s in the wrong.

I love that the show explores a deeper connection between Mark and Debbie than in the comics. That conversation between them on the back porch is everything. It adds a lot more weight to that final confrontation.

The one area where I think the show stumbled a bit, is how they handled Cecil. In the comics, he is formally introduced way later than in the show, only after Mark gets beaten into a mountainside by his father. In the show, Cecil is introduced right away, but… he doesn’t really have anything meaningful to do, does he? Like think about it. Nothing he does beyond the comic material really impacts the outcome of that final fight. There is no reason for him to come into the story as early as he does. And I hate to say this because I adore Cecil and his animated adaptation got me feeling some kinda way. I love every single moment that he is onscreen. I just wish, if they were going to make him a more major player throughout the first season, that they would’ve given him a way to impact the plot in a more meaningful way. Because otherwise it makes all his precautions and super-government-spy shenanigans look like so much bluster. Who knows, maybe my opinion on this will change when I read the second volume.

So yeah that’s my unfiltered reaction. Knowing me, I might tack more onto this later because I am prone to forgetting things, also I could write multiple essays about each of these characters.

[pensat-i-fet]

Shoot your shot 🏀 (Pedri x Reader)

**This one was requested by myself to myself 🤗🤭 to any man that might be reading, please take notes. An NBA match is the way to my heart 😅 any events that are the same for you? Let me know. And enjoy reading this!! ❤️**

Word count: 3070

Masterlist

Wattpad

"What are you doing during this break?", you asked Gavi while you were treating his injury.

"Just spending time with my family".

"That's nice. But please be mindful of the injury. Don't forget about your exercise routine, ok?"

"I won't. Don't worry. What are you going to do? You get a break too, right?"

"I do, but I'm not doing anything special either. I'll just catch on sleep probably", you laughed.

Not far from where you two were chatting, Eric and Pedri were sitting, waiting for a physio to attend to them...and listening to your conversation.

"Tell her to come with us", said Eric.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, it's the perfect excuse to spend some time together outside of work".

"And why would I want to do that? She's just our physio".

"Sure, Pedri", he said, rolling his eyes. "Everyone can see how you two act around each other".

Once you were done doing Gavi's treatment, you moved to join his teammates.

"Alright. Who needs some help?"

"Pedri", said Eric.

"Just say you don't like how I do my job, García. No need to throw me at someone else", you joked.

"Joan has a fitness plan for me, I have to wait for him".

The explanation made sense to you, but Pedri knew what was behind that request.

"Any plans for the break?", asked you Pedri, wondering if he should invite you to join theirs like Eric had suggested.

"Not really, what about you?"

"Eric and I are going to San Francisco". "Oh wow, that's fancy. What for?"

"We're watching an NBA match", said Eric, staring at your reaction and trying not to laugh.

You were the biggest basketball fan they had ever met. Once, they saw you at a Barça match and ever since, you've been having long chats about the Spanish League, the Superleague, the NBA, ...all of it. They often joked about how you were going to leave them to work with the basketball team.

"That's...you know? I'm not usually jealous of your lifestyle but I am now. I wish I had the money to do that".

It was now or never, thought Pedri. "Come with us".

Eric actually couldn't believe he had done it.

"What do you mean?"

"To the match. Come with us. We have a spare ticket so why not give it to you".

"That's too much. It's too much money and...", you kept babbling. Shocked by his offer.

"I think you should come too", said Eric.

"When are you leaving?"

"Wednesday. I could give you the details. I...I don't have your number, but...".

"I mean, if we are travelling together, I'd have to give you my number anyway", you laughed. "For any emergencies".

Seeing you and Pedri just nervously staring at each other, Eric took his friend's phone and gave it to you.

"Add your contact, then".

You bit your lip and took the phone, doing as Eric asked. It just felt...too much. Like you were overstepping. This wasn't professional but you couldn't lie and say you weren't excited about the idea of traveling to watch an NBA game. And also about the idea of spending time with Pedri. And with Eric too, of course.

"Done", you said, feeling shy all of a sudden and just trying to concentrate on your job.

"We are going to have the best time!", said Eric, winking at you and leaving you confused. And making Pedri blush.

                                     **

"Hey, Eric!"

He looked up from his phone to look at you. "Hi. You're early".

"Not as early as you".

"I actually got the time wrong and I've been here for a while".

You laughed, shaking your head and sitting down next to him.

"First time on a private jet?"

"Me? Nah, it's how I always travel".

"Well, you never know", he shrugged.

"It is the first time, yes. Also first time in the US and at an NBA match. Little trip full of firsts".

Eric was itching to ask if it would be your first time with a football player, because he was sure something would happen between you and Pedri, but that was crossing a line and he didn't want to make you run away and cause Pedri to kill him.

"There he is".

You looked where he pointed and saw Pedri and another guy approaching you.

"Hi, this is my brother".

"Nice meeting you".

"Let's go inside so we can get comfortable", said Eric, leading the way.

You felt so out of place all of a sudden. There were people you didn't know and the two you knew were coworkers. Sort of. Not really friends. The only player you could probably call a friend was Gavi and he wasn't there.

Also, flying wasn't something you were scared of per se, but the idea of such a long flight wasn't the most exciting to you. Worth it, of course. But still.

"Do you need a blanket?", offered Pedri's brother while everyone was getting ready for a nap to make the flight go by faster and get some rest for the trip.

"Sure. Thanks".

But you knew you weren't going to be able to sleep knowing how high up in the sky you were. So when everyone was resting, you got your book out of the bag and started to read.

Slight turbulences distracted you sometimes and your eyes always went to the same person. Pedri. He looked so peaceful while sleeping. So...handsome. But you didn't allow yourself to go there often.

A lot of the players you worked with were handsome. Eric himself was but what you liked about Pedri was something else. Not just looks. The little glimpses of his real personality you got to see were always hard to ignore for you because you liked what you saw. A lot.

"You can't sleep?", his voice took you out of the story you were then so immersed in.

"No, it's fine. I'll sleep when we get there".

"I could ask for a sleeping tablet or something. It's too many hours awake and the jet lag...".

"I'll be fine, Pedri", you said, smiling at his worry. "But thank you".

"Do you want to watch a movie with me while they are sleeping?"

You nodded, book now forgotten.

It was so weird to be sitting next to him. Arms almost touching. But it was also weird to feel weirded out by that since your job meant you were touching him all the time. Yet it was different. This wasn't you treating an injury.

Still, his presence relaxed you and soon you ended up falling asleep. Pedri noticed after a couple of minutes, when your head started to get closer to his shoulder.

He couldn't wake you up, he reasoned. You needed the sleep. So he just continued watching the movie, enjoying the weight of your head on his shoulder and the scent of your shampoo. He was never going to move on from this crush now.

Hearing movement behind you made you wake up and realize the position you were in. How embarrassing.

"Sorry".

"It's fine, you didn't bother me at all".

Eric walked past you two on his way to the bathroom and smirked at Pedri when he saw you sitting together. Now he only needed to get you alone at some point during the trip. And he had an idea of what to do.

                                    **

"We are going to lose her", said Eric and you could barely hear him because seeing the outside of the basketball stadium had hypnotized you.

When you felt a hand grabbing your arm, you turned to see it was Eric who stopped you from walking further so you wouldn't separate from the group.

"Sorry. This is just so unbelievable. How am I even here?"

"All thanks to Pedri", said Eric, putting his right arm around his friend's shoulders to bring him close while he used his other arm to do the same to you.

Before you knew it, he had moved back and now you were standing next to Pedri, who was trying not to shake his head at his friend's actions. He was being too obvious.

"Is this a bad time to say I'm a Lakers fan?", you asked, not knowing what else to say.

"Well, you're going to lose then".

"We'll see".

While you were finding your seats, a journalist asked Pedri and Eric if they had a few minutes to do a quick interview and they said yes. So you waited until they were done to sit and seeing they were both sitting together, you just moved to sit next to Eric.

"Why are you sitting here?"

"So Pedri can sit next to his brother", wasn't it the obvious thing to do?

You noticed Eric frowning but didn't stop to think why he was doing it. He was thinking about how he should have thought of a plan so you two were sitting together. But thankfully, he came up with a simple idea quickly.

"I need to pee before the game starts", he said, standing up and leaving.

You took a quick look at the seat Eric left empty and saw Pedri picking up his phone out of the corner of your eye. That reminded you about yours and so you started to take photos and videos of the place.

Pedri was surprised to see a text from Eric but when he read it, he let out a little chuckle. He'd have to repay the favour if his friend ever crushed on a girl like he was crushing on you.

"Sorry! Sorry! ...I didn't mean to step on your foot, sorry", you turned to see Eric returning to your seats, and struggling. "Guys! Move so I don't have to step on more feet".

"Smooth!", said Pedri under his breath.

"What was that?", you asked.

"Nothing".

But he did move and now he was sitting next to you.

The match was pretty entertaining and you kept chatting with Pedri about it, despite how loud it was.

"Popcorn?", he offered, moving the bag in your direction.

"Thank you".

And he kept offering you more, just by moving the bag so you could reach it easily, until he just decided to put it between your seats.

"Cute", said his brother, and Pedri slapped his leg so he would shut up but only made him laugh.

At half-time, only you and Pedri stayed in your seats thanks to another one of Eric's interventions.

"Are you having a good time?"

"Yes, this is even better than I expected. And I had high expectations", you laughed.

"Same".

Pedri moved away from you a little so he could take his hoodie off. It was warmer than he expected.

"Do you always wear that same hoodie? I think you can afford to buy a few more".

Pedri rolled his eyes and pretended he was leaving offended, so you grabbed his arm and made him sit down again. You've touched him so many times at work, but that felt different again.

"I mean, it does look good on you. But I was wondering if it was like a lucky charm or something too".

He tried not to stay on the thought of you thinking he looked good for too long. "No, I just like it and I'm boring, I guess".

By the time the match ended, you didn't even care about Lakers losing. Just being there had been so amazing, the result was secondary.

And also, you were all really tired, so it was time to go to the hotel and rest. Another long day awaited you tomorrow.

                                        **

Everyone fell silent when you got to the table where the boys were having breakfast.

"Were you talking about me?", you joked. But they actually had been.

"No, just about today".

"What are the plans?"

"We'll go meet a couple of players we met before when we were here", explained Eric. "And then we are going to a baseball match".

"Baseball?", that didn't sound very appealing but you guessed it made sense to go to all the American sports.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to. Pedri isn't coming. You could go see the city with him while Fer and I are at the match".

Pedri tried not to react to Eric's kick but kicked him back.

"You sure you don't want to go to that match?", you asked him and he nodded. "Then I guess we could go play tourist. I don't mind going alone but it's good to have company".

"And it'd be good to have the two English translators with the people who don't speak English".

"Eric, stop pretending you're bilingual. She speaks English so much better than you", said Pedri, making you blush.

Plans were made while food was being eaten and then it was time to go meet some basketball players. You couldn't deny how excited you were about that. You had met the whole Barça squad, of course. But these were NBA players.

You felt like you looked so out of place there but everyone was being nice to you so far. Even if they had no clue who you were and what you were doing there.

"Which one do you belong to?", asked one of the players, pointing at the men you were with and making you raise an eyebrow.

"I belong to myself. But since you mean which one is my boyfriend, the answer is none of them. We are just friends".

Eric noticed the one you looked at when saying that was Pedri. But Pedri didn't know what was going on because Eric was right when he pointed out he barely spoke English.

What he did know was that some of the players were flirting with you. No need to understand what they said when he could see the way they looked at you when they talked. But you weren't interested, at all.

"Ask her out. She'll say yes and then you won't have to be jealous all the time".

"Eric, I'm not jealous".

"Right...just do something while you two are alone. It's exhausting for me to just see you being so stupid".

And Eric wasn't wrong. He had to do something.

                                     **

Yourusername 🔒

Pretty San Francisco 🇺🇸

-pablogavi: looks good! But watch out because Pedri and Eric are there too.

   -yourusername: I know.

   -pedri: she knows.

   -ericgm3: we're literally with her. Keep up, Pablito.

   -pablogavi: how was I supposed to know?

   -pablogavi: wait, why wasn't I invited? 🥺

"Gavi is so silly", you said to Pedri, looking at your phone.

"But he's your favourite", he joked. But it was something that bothered him a bit. Even if you two acted more like siblings than two people who liked each other in a romantic way but...Gavi got too much of your attention. And that was attention Pedri didn't get.

"I'm not allowed to have favourites, Pedro".

"And yet...".

Being alone with him for a couple of hours had made you a bit more confident. Also noticing how Eric was always trying to push you to be with Pedri. Perhaps he felt the same way about you as you felt about him.

"No need to be jealous".

He laughed at being called jealous a second time in just one day. But both times, it was true.

"I'm just wondering what he has that I don't, you know?"

"He's more reckless on the pitch so recovery takes longer".

"I get kicked a lot".

You looked at him and...was he pouting?

"And it's also easier to spend more time with him than with you", you confessed, but he didn't understand what you were saying and you noticed it straight away. "I don't mean it in the way you think, but the opposite".

"Spell it for me then", he said and your heart sunk seeing his hurt look.

"Gavi is my friend. Just that. You are...you".

"That's not really explaining much", he added, but his look had changed from hurt to curious.

"I don't have a crush on Gavi".

There it was. No way back now after that confession.

"That's not a line I hear often", he joked, making you laugh. "And...the feeling is mutual. About the crush, I mean".

"You don't have a crush on Gavi either? He'll be devastated".

Pedri chuckled before walking in front of you so you stopped moving.

"Can I kiss you?", he asked, and you nodded.

Yes, that wasn't very professional. You didn't even know if it was allowed but you'd worry about it when the time came. First, it was time to enjoy the kiss you had been dreaming about for months.

                                        **

One of the first things Eric did when he got back to the hotel was call Pedri to see how your date had gone.

"Nothing happened".

"You've got to be kidding me! Do you want me to go on the dates with you to tell you what to do?"

"Just leave it. Let's enjoy our last day here tomorrow. It's fine".

"So stupid...the both of you!"

Pedri couldn't help but laugh seeing how annoyed his friend looked. And he laughed again after telling you about the conversation.

The next day, your final day there, was a repeat of the first one. Eric trying to get you alone with Pedri all the time. But what he didn't know was that whenever that happened, you really made the best of that alone time. And when Eric and Fer were back, it was back to pretending for the both of you. You were having a great time teasing them like that.

But all good things come to an end and soon you found yourself on the jet, on the way back to Barcelona. Same as on the first flight, the boys decided to go take a nap. And same as on that other flight, you couldn't sleep.

This time, however, Pedri didn't want a nap either. So he invited you to watch another movie with him. He brought you closer to him so you could cuddle and his warmth made you fall asleep almost immediately.

He wanted to remain awake to both fully enjoy the feeling of having you in his arms and to make sure no one saw you like that. But he was very tired too and soon his eyes started to close.

It was when Pedri wasn't still fully asleep that he noticed a presence near him. Eric.

"Nothing happened, right?"

[utapri-translations-uuuu]

Special Mini Story: Your Name - Translation (君の名前)

Translator's notes can be found at the end and are marked with an asterisk.

Please do not repost/retranslate without permission.

A PDF version is also available.

Key

Hijikata Toshizo - Otori Eiichi

Nagakura Shinpachi - Sumeragi Kira

Todo Heisuke - Mikado Nagi

Okita Soji - Otori Eiji

Kondo Isami - Kiryuin Van

Harada Sanosuke - Hyuga Yamato

Saito Hajime - Amakusa Shion

Kondo: … Well then, I think we’ll wrap up today’s meeting here. Does anyone have anything they would like to add?

Todo: Yes, I have a proposal.

Kondo: What is it, Todo-kun?

Todo: About the headquarters. Don’t you feel like they’ve been getting a bit cramped recently? Even though we’re companions with the same ideals, we still want to have our personal space. Right now, we’re all a little too close to each other.

Hijikata: Are you saying that you want to move? I understand your reasoning. I certainly acknowledge the need for it.

Harada: If you’re going to do it anyway, make it a house with a really high lintel, Hijikata-san. That would be more convenient, I’m sure.

Todo: Don’t make unnecessary, unreasonable demands. Things are finally progressing nicely, and that would just interfere, don’t you think?

Okita: Moving, huh... If the headquarters are going to be bigger, then the garden will too, right? Maybe we can even keep that cat from before.

Harada: Ah, is it the small black cat you met while on patrol?

Saito: A little cat… merely stroking its soft fur seems to bring a simple joy...

Okita: Yes. This isn’t an unreasonable demand, right?

Harada: Well, hmm… I don’t think whether you can keep it or not is a matter of space in the first place.

Hijikata: Harada is right. No matter how large a house we move into, keeping a cat inside is prohibited. First of all, cats should be allowed to roam freely in the town for the public good of rodent control.

Okita: It can’t be… The kind of comfort a cat provides is also necessary in life.

Hijikata: No matter what anyone says, I won’t change my mind. It’s a no.

Nagakura: ... Hijikata-san’s idea that "cats should be allowed to roam free" seems outdated now. Anyway, putting that aside, what was prohibited earlier was "bringing them into the house." In other words, doesn’t that mean that "it’s okay to keep them as pets even now, as long as they’re allowed to roam free"?

Kondo: That’s true. As for me, I didn’t mind either way, so I was thinking of respecting Toshi’s wishes. If Toshi agrees, then I have nothing more to say.

Saito: I see, your earlier words were meant to encourage deep reflection... I apologize for not realizing your profound thoughts, Hijikata-san.

Hijikata: No, it’s not like that at all…

Okita: What’s with that? If you’re going to allow it, then please say it clearly. But thank you.

Harada: I honestly thought it was not a possibility, too. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, Hijikata-san.

Todo: We’re getting off track. We’re going ahead with the move, correct?

Kondo: Ah, of course. Living conditions are important.

Todo: If that’s settled, okay. Shall we continue talking about the cat? If we’re going to have one, we’ll need to think of a name for it.

Saito: Well... the one who deserves the credit this time is Nagakura-san. How about we call it ‘Shinpachi’ so we don’t forget the gratitude we owe him...?

Nagakura: I appreciate the thought, but absolutely not.

Harada: Then, wouldn’t ‘Eiji’* be fine?

Nagakura: My childhood name? Enough already, leave my name alone. I’d rather not use either of them.

Okita: In that case, why not just ask Nagakura-san to name it on behalf of all of us?

Harada: That sounds good. Pick a good one.

Nagakura: … Alright, uh. … Well then, Shi…

Todo: I don’t think you would, but since it’s a special opportunity, something like ‘Shinsengumi’ is a no-go, okay? Try to be a bit more creative.

Hijikata: It's hard to say that ‘Makoto’ (integrity) is creative either.

Kondo: Using the toponym, ‘Mibu’, seems a bit too easy... What do you think? Can you think of anything?

Nagakura: …

Harada: Ah, do you want me to help you as well?

Nagakura: No, it’s fine. This is the role that was assigned to me. I will fulfill it no matter what. ... How about ‘Shingetsu’*? After the new moon, the moon will gradually wax. It’s a symbol of hope for the future. I thought it suits us now.

Saito: How wonderful... As a sign of our comradeship, I want to make a neck ornament out of the same cloth as our haori.

Okita: Great idea! Let’s get started right away. I can’t wait to put it on the kitty.

Harada: If you’re going to make a neck ornament, you’ll need a bell. I think I have one attached to my amulet, so use that.

Kondo: We were able to find a suitable name. Thank you, Nagakura-kun.

Nagakura: … Yes. That’s a relief.

Todo: Hey, Hijikata-san. I think ‘Shingetsu’ is good too, but in the end, it still has Nagakura-san’s name in it, doesn’t it?

Hijikata: I know you’re smart. However, since he hasn’t noticed it himself, just keep quiet about it. … Hey, everyone, remember it’s still a free-roam situation.

Translator's notes:

*1 Eiji- 栄治 (prosperity, peace). Nagakura’s childhood name. Different kanji combination from our Otori Eiji (瑛二)

*2 Shingetsu- 新月 (new moon). As Todo pointed out, it still uses the “shin” from Shinpachi (新八)

[tumbleweed-run]

Reaching Out

It's been several months since the defeat of the absolute. Nearly as many months since Gale and Tav have retreated to Waterdeep to continue their lives. Things are going well, or as well as one can expect. But despite their best intentions keeping in touch with their former companions hasn't happened. That is until Gale finally reaches out to, most surprisingly, Astarion for help with something.

Also on AO3

If any of you are familiar with my Kinktober 2023 works (specifically Like it Rough ) you'll have some idea where this is heading. But this is a whole new work and while it's heavily inspired by Kinktober fics, and will probably feature many of them, it's likely to swing in another direction. This is meant to be the longfic of them.

Letter One

Astarion,

It seems odd to not add an endearment to the beginning of my letters. My most fanged friend? My nocturnal compatriot? No matter, I’ll nail something down, of that I am sure.

I’m sure you’re curious as to why I’m writing to you after so many months. Truth be told, I find it an odd thing to do as well. I imagined I might keep in contact with Wyll or Shadowheart, but, and with no insult intended, I didn’t think my first letter since the incident would be to you. I also had assumed I would have reached out much sooner. But something has stayed my hand each time I’ve considered writing.

Things are well in Waterdeep, or as well as they ever are. It seems the stories of our adventure have softened Blackstaff’s attitudes towards me and I’ve been invited to teach once more. I look forward to it greatly. Tav is well, too. She spends much of her days exploring the city and making friends. I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you that we now regularly play dinner host to an ever-growing number of orphans and those down on their luck. The tower is oft filled to the brim on feast days, to the point we had to commandeer Mother’s house for Greengrass to accommodate everyone. 

We still haven’t settled on a date for the wedding, but you know that of course, as Tav would never allow it to happen without all of you there. I imagine we’ll find something next year. Just getting to be around one another has been a luxury we’re not quick to squander. 

It hasn’t all been bright days, of course. We all have our moods, things we cannot forget in the quietest hours of the night. Tav grows restless at times; adventure calls to her. I admit I feel its pull as well.  We’ve helped a few people here or there but hardly anything worth mentioning in comparison to our grand adventure. 

I must admit this letter is not just a friendly catch-up, as it ought to be. I have a request for you, one which, even now, I am hesitant to ask. So I won’t, for now. Instead, I will simply tell you it is a most private request, and I need to know if you’d be willing to assist me—not just me but Tav as well if that makes you any more inclined to help. I have no wish to make you uncomfortable, as I know we haven’t always been the most agreeable companions, so I will also allow that this is a subject of which you are reluctantly an expert of. 

If you are willing to assist me discreetly, please write back. Or rather, write back on any account, Tav would be delighted to hear from you. 

Sincerely,

Gale Dekarios

Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5, Pt 6, Pt 7

Also on AO3