#hyeju x reader

[faebled-stories]

Yours Forever

Kinkvember Day 13: Werewolf

LOONA/Loossemble Son Hyeju x Werewolf Male Reader

The week leading up to the full moon had been unbearable. You’d begun to pull away, slipping from Hyeju’s touch, retreating further with each passing day. Though your transformations were a rhythm she had come to understand, something was unmistakably different this time—something raw and electrifying that charged the air between you.

She sensed it immediately, an undercurrent of tension replacing the warmth she was used to. Your once-welcoming presence had become guarded, your eyes avoiding hers, and a strange energy bristled beneath your skin. You’d warned her of this side of yourself, the primal force that awakened with the waxing moon. She’d always honored the boundary, letting you slip into the woods each month for the transformation, a small price to pay for the security it brought to you both.

But this was different. This wasn’t just about the full moon or keeping her safe. You weren’t merely preparing for the change; you were holding something back, and the strain of it was unmistakable. Each touch was brief, your hand pulling away as if her warmth stung, your breaths turning sharp when she was near. She tried to reach for you, but each time felt like touching a live wire. A chill settled into her bones, and a deeper realization struck: this wasn’t just you preparing to leave. You were resisting something powerful, something only she seemed to provoke.

On the first night, she watched you by the window, staring into the dense shadows of the forest. You stood there, rigid, your shoulders pulled taut as though braced for release. Even from across the room, she could feel the tension rolling off you, saw the way your hands clenched, fingers twitching as if resisting the instinct to reach for her. When you finally slipped into bed, you lay at the edge, as though afraid even a brush of her skin might unravel whatever control you had left. Sleep was distant for her that night as she lay beside you, feeling each measured breath, each silent struggle that kept you tethered.

By the second day, the strain had seeped into every gesture, every look. At breakfast, you barely touched your food, gaze distant, lost somewhere she couldn’t reach. Hyeju attempted to bridge the growing gap with gentle conversation, offering smiles she knew would normally soften you. But all she received were nods, one-word responses, your fists clenched each time she leaned in, as if proximity to her had become an unbearable temptation. The quiet intimacy that usually marked your mornings was gone, replaced by a silence that felt like an ever-widening chasm.

On the third day, pretense vanished altogether. You weren’t just keeping your distance; you were withdrawing from her entirely, avoiding her gaze, jaw set so tight that the veins in your neck stood out. The scent she associated with you was sharper now, tinged with something wild and unrestrained. Whenever she entered the room, she felt your intense gaze upon her—a look that lingered, dark and unblinking, before you quickly turned away. Your eyes held a ferocity that unsettled her even as it stirred something deep within, a mixture of unease and instinctive thrill. The restraint you fought against became tangible, pressing in like a thunderstorm about to break.

The fourth night brought restlessness. Once again, you stood by the window, but this time you began to pace, muscles shifting under your skin with each jerky movement, as though barely contained by the human form you wore. The moon was still waxing, yet its influence radiated through every line of your body, in the rise and fall of your labored breaths. Hyeju watched from the bed, heart pounding, feeling a mix of concern and something nameless, like an ache that mirrored the primal energy in you. Each step you took held a rawness that threatened to unleash, your form barely holding back a force that loomed just beneath the surface.

Finally, in a voice rough and edged with strain, you muttered, “I need to leave soon.”

The words were clipped, barely a whisper, but they landed heavily.

“You usually wait until the day of,” she replied, her voice laced with concern.

“It’s… different this time,” you answered, eyes fixed on the floor, unable or unwilling to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The fifth day arrived like a storm, thick with tension that clung to the air. Every movement she made felt monitored, her presence tracked by your wary gaze. When you did speak, your voice was hoarse, each word scraping through clenched teeth. Your movements lost all their usual grace; you paced with a sharp, restless energy, each step more animalistic than human. When she came close, she felt you flinch. For the first time, there was no warmth in your gaze—only a restrained, urgent focus, as though holding yourself back from a force that could consume you both. The lines of your body, the clench of your fists, every taut muscle told of a fierce restraint that went against every primal instinct you harbored.

By the sixth day, it was undeniable: you weren’t just avoiding her, you were fighting the pull between you with every fiber of your being. The desire in you was palpable, like an electric charge, a force barely controlled, simmering under the surface. Your gaze had taken on a new intensity, a dark hunger that sent a shiver down her spine. When she neared, your breaths quickened, nostrils flaring as though scenting her, tracking her presence with instincts heightened by the looming transformation. Yet even as the tension between you grew unbearable, you held yourself back, jaw clenched, fingers digging into your palms as though this restraint was the only thing tethering you to reason.

Then came the seventh day, the full moon hovering on the horizon. Your skin was feverish, your eyes blazing with a golden light that felt more beast than human. Every muscle in your body seemed wound tight, thrumming with restless energy, and staying near her had become an ordeal. You took to the woods, vanishing into the night for long runs, returning each time drenched in sweat, breath labored, muscles quaking as though you had wrestled an invisible enemy. Yet each return left your gaze fiercer, that golden light burning brighter with each passing hour.

Hyeju watched, heart aching, understanding the battle raging within you yet feeling helpless. She could only hope that as the full moon rose and the transformation overtook you, the distance you’d forced between you would be enough to keep her safe from the powerful, forbidden pull that simmered just beneath your skin.

-----

That evening, you stood before the fireplace, fists clenched so tightly that your knuckles blanched, nails biting into your palms. The firelight flickered, casting shadows that danced across your face, illuminating the sharp lines of your jaw and the fierce tension in your eyes—a storm of unspoken fears and desires boiling just beneath the surface. The warmth of the flames did little to ease the chill coursing through you; if anything, it seemed to amplify the turmoil that had been building inside, the mounting pressure of days spent in silence. Every crackle of the fire felt like a countdown, pushing you closer to the inevitable moment when you would have to speak. The truth lay on your tongue, heavy and bitter, an admission that you could scarcely bear to voice.

At last, the silence fractured, your words tearing through the stillness. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” The sentence was low but thunderous, slicing through the quiet with a brutal finality. It hung in the air, irreversible, a single statement that felt like it would drive Hyeju further away than ever.

Her shock was instant. Hyeju’s eyes widened, her soft expression hardening into one of quiet horror as she took a step toward you, her gaze unwavering yet clouded with worry and confusion. “You don’t have to,” she whispered, her voice barely audible yet carrying an unmistakable plea. She edged closer, her look gentle but resolute. “You always come back to me—”

“No.” The word escaped you in a snarl, cutting through her words with a fierce finality. The harshness of your tone froze her mid-step, a flash of restrained power in your gaze halting her as her lips parted in unspoken confusion. “You don’t understand,” you continued, your voice tight, each word strained under the weight of what you’d been hiding. “This time, I won’t be able to control myself.”

A long, tense silence settled between you. Hyeju’s resolve faltered only slightly before her voice returned, low and unwavering, layered with quiet confidence. “But I trust you.” She moved closer, her gaze searching your face, reading every fracture in the guarded mask you’d constructed. Her scent, the soft, familiar fragrance that usually grounded you, now fueled the fire within, making each breath an exquisite torment. Every inhalation felt like stoking a flame that was already blazing out of control, testing the limits of restraint you’d desperately tried to uphold.

For a moment, your hardened resolve wavered, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through before you forced yourself back into control. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” you said, voice rough and barely steady under the strain. Admitting even that much felt like surrender, a risk too great to take. But here you were, standing at the edge, teetering between revelation and restraint.

Hyeju reached out then, her fingers grazing your forearm with a touch so light it was almost unbearable, a grounding presence that sent a wave of conflicting sensations through you—longing and fear, lust and caution. Her hand was gentle, a soft anchor amid the chaos roaring inside you, yet exactly what you knew you couldn’t bear. “I’m not afraid of you,” she murmured, her voice steady, cutting through the wild, tangled thoughts spiraling in your mind.

Her words were a balm and a curse, a calm certainty that felt like fire in your veins, heating the tension already simmering inside. Every nerve in your body screamed for release, and her unwavering belief in you only made it harder to resist. Piece by piece, you could feel yourself unraveling in her presence. “Hyeju…” you rasped, voice raw and pleading, barely holding yourself together. The confession clawed its way out of you, forced from the depths of your restraint. “I’m in heat,” you admitted, the words nearly breaking under their own weight. “Your scent… it’s driving me mad.”

At this, Hyeju’s gaze softened, her expression turning calm and understanding, as though every fleeting look, every tense gesture had clicked into place. She held your gaze, a mix of compassion and strength, her voice dropping to a soft, steady murmur. “Then let me come with you.” Her words were gentle yet unyielding, carrying a determination that left no room for argument. “You don’t have to face this alone. Don’t push me away.”

A surge of panic flashed through you, and you shook your head, sharp and decisive, knowing the risk was too great. “No,” you replied, voice rough and laden with unspoken fear. “I could hurt you. It’s not safe.”

But Hyeju’s response was quiet and certain, her trust in you unshakeable. “You won’t,” she insisted, her conviction a solid, unbreakable force. “I know you. I trust you.”

Her words shattered something within you, dissolving the last of the restraint you’d clung to, leaving you exposed, every breath dragging against the strain in your chest. She was close—too close—and every instinct in you waged a war to keep control. You opened your mouth, prepared to argue, to plead with her to understand the danger she tempted. But before you could, she placed her hand firmly against your chest, her touch a grounding warmth that silenced you. “I’m coming with you,” she declared, her gaze resolute. “I’m not letting you face this alone.”

For a long, breathless moment, you stared down at her, caught between the fierce need to protect her and the unbearable, searing desire that had been clawing at you all week. Her hand on your chest was steady, her eyes filled with an unbreakable belief in you that seemed to defy every fear and instinct within. The silence between you was thick, weighted with her conviction and your desperate restraint.

“No… Hyeju,” you managed, voice thick with desperation, as you struggled to maintain control. “You don’t get it… I can’t…” Each word was dragged from you, heavy with fear and frustration. Meeting her gaze one last time, you saw the strength in her eyes, a silent insistence that you stay. It was almost too much. “Don’t. Follow. Me.” Each word was deliberate, a plea and a command wrapped in a last-ditch attempt to shield her from the force that loomed just beneath the surface. With a final, tortured look, you turned and walked out, each step a battle against your own instincts, leaving her standing alone, the silence in your absence cutting deep, stretching like an open wound.

-----

But as the moon rose higher that night, its light spilling through her window, Hyeju found herself lying awake, your words reverberating through her mind, gnawing at her heart. She could feel the pull to follow you, a force she couldn’t quite resist, and as the night deepened, the thought solidified within her. Ignoring the warning that still echoed in her mind, she packed a small bag, slipping quietly into the forest, following the familiar path to your secluded cabin deep within the trees.

The forest was shrouded in darkness, yet the silver light of the moon cast an eerie glow over her path, illuminating the twisting roots and gnarled branches, their shadows stretching long and foreboding. Her heart raced as she neared the cabin, each step echoing with the unspoken fear and resolve that pushed her forward. When she arrived, the air around the cabin was thick, heavy with a tension she could feel humming in her very bones, a force that pulsed and throbbed like a heartbeat. She could feel you on the other side of the door, a presence more powerful than she had ever sensed.

The door was barricaded, as she had expected, but she raised her hand and knocked gently, the sound seeming almost insignificant against the thick silence of the night. She waited, heart pounding, straining to hear any response, but was met only with the quiet rustle of leaves and the occasional distant howl. Summoning her courage, she knocked again, louder this time, and after a long, charged silence, she heard it—the soft, hesitant sound of the lock being turned, of the door slowly opening.

You stood in the doorway, your golden eyes already glowing with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. Every inch of you was taut with tension, muscles flexed beneath the skin, your chest heaving with deep, ragged breaths as though you were barely containing the power thrumming inside. The air was thick, almost stifling with the electric charge of restrained ferocity. She could see the struggle etched into every line of your face, the battle raging beneath the surface as you fought to hold back the wildness that the full moon had awakened.

Hyeju took a slow step forward, eyes fixed on you, feeling the pull of something deeper than words—a call to stand by your side, come what may. She knew the danger, yet her resolve was unbreakable. In that charged silence, you both stood on the edge, caught between fear and desire, each heartbeat echoing like thunder, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

“Hyeju,” you rasped, your voice raw and tangled with confusion. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe. You shouldn’t be—”

“I came to be with you,” she interrupted, stepping into the cabin, her gaze meeting yours with unwavering determination. “I know what’s happening. I’m not scared.”

You took a step back, running a hand through your hair in frustration, muscles twitching as though each movement was a battle to stay in control. “You really don’t understand,” you growled, voice thick with barely restrained fury. “I won’t be able to stop myself. The full moon, the heat... your scent is driving me insane. I can’t—”

But she cut you off with a steady look, her fingers reaching up to caress your bare chest. The gentle circles she traced sent shivers through you, her soft touch both comforting and excruciating. Her hands were confident, each touch pushing you further toward the edge. “Hyeju,” you growled, voice now heavy with desperation, “I can’t... You don’t know what you’re doing.”

But she did. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was choosing to trust you, to be with you in this wild, vulnerable moment, and she wouldn’t let fear keep her away.

You stared at her, chest rising and falling with each labored breath, muscles trembling with the strain of resisting the instincts clawing at you. “I don't want to hurt you” you whispered, voice hoarse, filled with the weight of the battle raging inside.

“It’s okay, baby” she whispered, stepping closer until her bare skin brushed against yours. “I want this. I want you to be yourself—no more holding back. Let your desires come through.”

The words hit you like a spark to dry wood, and your body trembled, the force of her gaze enough to break your last shreds of restraint. The transformation you had been fighting surged to the surface, muscles tensing and shifting, claws extending, your skin stretched tight as you struggled to hold back even a fraction of the wildness she was calling forth. Your eyes, now fully golden, locked onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Hyeju… please,” you pleaded one last time, voice low, desperate. “You don’t want to see what happens.”

“I do,” she insisted, her voice steady despite the fierce energy radiating off you. “I trust you.”

Without breaking eye contact, Hyeju moved toward the bed, her movements slow, deliberate, each step filled with certainty. She began to undress, her eyes never leaving yours, her gaze filled with a quiet strength, inviting you to follow her, to trust her as she trusted you. You could see her body fully bared in front of you, vulnerable yet fearless, and the sight ignited something within you, a force you could no longer hold back.

Her clothes pooled on the floor, and in that moment, you surrendered completely to the instincts you had fought to keep buried.

On all fours, she slowly made her way onto the bed, crawling toward the headboard with a teasing, playful sway, each movement inviting and deliberate. Her bare cheeks moved with each shift, her skin glistening softly under the dim light. You watched, transfixed, your glowing yellow eyes taking in every detail, every inch of her body revealed to you, a sight that was almost too much to bear. Her arousal, prominent, was an irresistible draw, an open invitation that held you captive, stirring the wildness inside you as your last vestiges of control wavered.

Finally, reaching her destination at the headboard, she flipped onto her back, baring herself entirely to your gaze. Her eyes met yours, a steady, powerful look that contradicted her petite frame, and for a moment, despite the beast inside you, it was she who held the power. Her gaze, dark and full of lust, seemed to pierce through you, striking at the very core of your deepest, most carnal desires. Slowly, she spread her legs, releasing a sweet, intoxicating scent that fogged your mind, each breath pulling you deeper into a haze where human restraint faded and only the primal urges remained.

With slow, deliberate movements, she brought a hand down between her legs, her fingers brushing over her skin, and then, as if to taunt you further, she spread her folds open, her wetness shining under your gaze. Her eyes met yours again, confident and unwavering, drawing you in until it was as if nothing else existed in the world. You felt your humanity slipping, her scent clouding your mind, drowning every rational thought as your focus narrowed down to her alone. She was yours, yet every second of her teasing was pushing you closer to the edge, closer to the part of you you had tried so hard to keep at bay.

And then, something inside you snapped.

The transformation surged through you with a force that could no longer be resisted. You felt your body begin to change, your muscles tensing and expanding, bones shifting with an audible crack. A primal energy flooded your veins, erasing the last shreds of restraint. Hyeju’s confident gaze flickered as she watched, her breath catching as the reality of your transformation became undeniable. Your form grew, stretching until you towered over her, limbs thickening with muscle, hands morphing into powerful claws that extended toward the bed, grazing the sheets.

Her confidence wavered, her eyes widening as you loomed over her, now fully transformed. The human features she had come to love and trust were now overlaid with the raw, undeniable presence of the beast. Your face was wild, feral, golden eyes glowing with an intensity that pierced the dim room. Hyeju’s back pressed against the headboard as she took in the full expanse of your towering frame, a flicker of nervousness crossed her expression. Her heart pounded as she realized just how massive every part of you had become, how easily your form could overpower her.

As the last tendrils of the transformation wisped away from your body, the atmosphere in the small, dimly lit cabin thickened with an intense energy. Hyeju, who had stood witness to this spectacle, found her initial awe morphing into a gripping fear as she took in the full extent of your metamorphosis. Her eyes, previously alight with curiosity and anticipation, now widened with shock, tracing the daunting new size and form you had assumed.

Her reaction was palpable; her once firm stance of confidence, bolstered by the warmth of her affection and a dash of adventurous spirit, crumbled under the weight of your overwhelming presence. "W-wait... wait..." she stammered, her voice barely a whisper, trembling like a leaf in a storm. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, a frantic drumbeat that seemed to echo through the room, as she felt an icy chill spread through her, urging her to retreat.

Pressed against the ornate headboard of the bed, Hyeju made herself as small as possible, the plushness of the bed offering little comfort against the backdrop of her spiraling fear. Her breaths came in short, shallow gulps, each one a struggle as her mind grappled with the surreal reality before her. The sheets beneath her fingers turned into a lifeline, gripped so tightly that her knuckles drained of color, reflecting the starkness of her terror.

“I-I’m not sure… maybe… maybe I was wrong…” she murmured, her voice a tapestry of hesitation and self-doubt. The courage that had felt like a shield now seemed like a child's armor against a giant. Her body trembled, muscles tensing with the primal urge to flee, to escape this unforeseen turn of events.

The air was thick with tension until a low, guttural growl erupted from you, slicing through the silence like a blade. It was a sound that belonged to the beastly, the wild, and it jolted Hyeju from her paralyzing fear into a sharp, sudden alertness. Before she could process her next move, you moved with a fluid, predatory grace, your large hands seizing her thighs with a grip that was nearly crushing. The suddenness of your action elicited a gasp from her, her eyes stretching even wider, now not just with fear but with an intense mix of vulnerability and surprise.

Looming over her, your presence was an undeniable force, a raw power that left no room for resistance or escape. The heat from your body seemed to envelop her, the intensity of your gaze pinning her in place as effectively as your hands did her legs. Without another moment's delay, you thrust forward, the movement powerful and unyielding. A cry tore from Hyeju’s lips, sharp and echoing, a sound that was both a release and a plea, reverberating off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Hyeju's fingers clung to the fur of your shoulders, her nails digging in as she tried to steady herself against the overwhelming onslaught of sensations.

"No... no, wait!" she cried out, her voice wavering and thick with the strain of accommodating the sheer intensity of their lovemaking. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, each one a desperate attempt to manage the overwhelming sensations that coursed through her.

Her body trembled, stretched beyond her limits as she struggled to accept the fullness that threatened to push her past her breaking point. Her muscles tensed, quivering with a mixture of anticipation and fear of the ecstasy that might consume her entirely. She felt every inch of him inside her, an overwhelming presence that seemed to redefine the boundaries of her own body.

Every thrust was a powerful, rhythmic surge that filled her so completely, so deeply, that she could barely process the onslaught of pleasure that threatened to shatter her mind. Each movement sent waves of sensation radiating from her core, making her toes curl and her back arch involuntarily. The room echoed with the sounds of their union — skin against fur, the muffled cries escaping her lips, and the low, guttural sounds from her partner, lost in their shared intensity.

Her fingers gripped your fur tightly, as if to anchor herself against the storm of feelings that threatened to sweep her away. Her mind, awash with endorphins, could only focus on the here and now, the relentless, intoxicating sensation of being filled and overwhelmed, pushing her closer to an edge where ecstasy and madness blurred into one.

Tears of intense pleasure and pain mingled at the corners of her eyes, her emotions as stretched as her physical form. In this moment, she was not just participating in an act of love, but was being redefined by it, her very essence quivering under the weight of such profound connection.

With each movement, Hyeju felt herself being pushed past her boundaries, past what she had thought herself capable of enduring. Yet, even as she felt herself nearing the edge, she could not deny the raw, visceral pleasure that coursed through her veins. It was as if every nerve ending in her body had been set alight.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as you continued to drive deeper into her, pushing her beyond what she had thought possible. Her muscles clenched around you, her body's natural response to the overwhelming fullness, yet her resistance only seemed to fuel your intensity.

"I... I don't think I can..." she cried out, her voice a mixture of desperation and ecstasy, her words broken by another sharp gasp as you increased your pace. Each thrust was forceful, driving into her with an intensity that stole her breath away. Her fingers clutched at the sheets, knuckles whitening with the effort to maintain some semblance of control.

Your rhythm was relentless, pushing her towards an edge she wasn't sure she was ready to leap from. Her body quaked, not just from the physical exertion but from the overwhelming sensory overload. The room felt too small, the air too thick with the mixture of her perfume, your musk, and the heat of your bodies. Each movement sent a shockwave through her, her legs quivering, barely able to support the weight of your mutual desire.

Her mind teetered on the brink of sanity, the world narrowing down to the points where you were connected, where pleasure met pain in a dance as old as time. She felt every ridge, every pulse of you inside her, each sensation magnified by her heightened state. Her breath came in ragged sobs, tears of both release and overwhelming emotion flooding from her eyes.

But there was no stopping now. The primal force within you had taken complete control, each powerful motion fed by a desire so deep it felt inescapable. The beast within was in command, every muscle tense with the sheer force driving each thrust, each movement a testament to the ancient instinct that surged through your veins. Growls rumbled low and unrestrained from your throat, mingling with Hyeju’s gasps and whimpers, creating a discordant symphony of need and desperation. Your claws pressed against her skin, grazing lightly but enough to leave a faint mark, holding her steady as she writhed beneath you.

Her breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, each exhalation laced with soft pleas, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Please… I-I was wrong… it’s too much…” Her voice broke again, the words trailing off as the line between pleasure and pain blurred, each new wave of sensation pushing her further to the edge. 

Her scent, mingling with the fear and vulnerability, drove you further, igniting every primal instinct within as you gave in completely, the beast’s hunger fully unleashed. Hyeju’s whimpers filled the air, her body yielding even as her mind fought against the intensity, the boundary between her own resistance and surrender melting away as the night stretched on, her cries a helpless melody that fed the fire raging within you both.

Desperately, she tried to steady herself, palms pressing against your waist—not to stop you, but to brace herself, to somehow absorb the force of each powerful thrust that surged through her body. She knew, even as her body trembled beneath yours, that resisting you fully was impossible; you were in a state beyond reason, each motion primal, instinctual, and unstoppable.

Her hands found no purchase against your hips, her touch only seeming to stoke the fire in you, compelling you to drive even harder. Her voice, pleading and broken, filled the room, her cries reaching your ears but slipping past, your mind consumed by her presence, by the intoxicating scent of her that fueled the storm of instincts raging within you.

And then, just as the rhythm peaked, your head tipped back, and a howl tore from your throat, resonating through the cabin with a raw, wild force that sent a shiver down her spine. The sound was pure and primal, yet familiar, carrying within it an echo of something deeper—moments from before, the memories of who you were, of the tenderness that lived beneath your wild exterior.

In a flash, Hyeju saw you as you had been, in the quiet of so many nights spent wrapped in each other’s warmth. She remembered your laughter, the softness of your touch, the whispered secrets shared in the night. Even as she felt her body stretched and trembling beneath you, she realized that the man she loved was still there, deep within the beast, bound by love even in this fierce, unrestrained form.

As her body adjusted to the rhythm, her eyes rose to meet yours, locking onto the wild hunger there, golden and unbridled, yet somehow… familiar. In that gaze, she saw more than the beast—she saw the intensity of your need for her, a need so fierce it overwhelmed everything else. She could feel it, the love that transcended the primal instinct driving you; it was a force just as powerful, just as consuming. Her breath steadied as she held your gaze, feeling her own heartbeat slow and sync with yours as an undeniable truth dawned within her. She’d promised to love all of you, and now, in this moment, you were offering her every part of yourself, even the parts you had fought so hard to shield from her. This was you—all of you—and as she looked into the depths of your gaze, she felt her resolve deepen.

“This is him… this is all of him,” she whispered to herself, the words anchoring her in this reality, a reality where she wanted, needed, all of you. Her fear softened, melting away as her body began to accept you, her breath growing steady as she adapted to the fullness pressing into her.

The sharp discomfort ebbed into a new sensation, an electric pulse that coursed through her veins, intertwining pain with pleasure in a way that ignited something deep within her. Her hips lifted to meet yours, a tentative acceptance transforming into a fierce desire, her body yielding as she began to move with you, each thrust building a rhythm that brought her closer to you, closer to the unbridled passion she saw in your eyes.

“I’m yours, my love,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion and resolve, the words carrying a weight she knew you could feel. “I’m your mate.”

The words, quiet and simple, struck something within you. Her voice seemed to echo through the wild storm of your mind, her words bypassing the primal urge and reaching a place deeper, more vulnerable. Your body trembled, the hunger in your eyes intensifying, your movements becoming frantic, almost desperate. Growls tore from your throat, rough and uncontrolled, as the beast within you struggled against the sheer force of need pulling you toward her. Yet in that need was a softness, a desire to give her everything, to leave no part of yourself hidden.

And Hyeju, finally, was ready. She wanted all of it, wanted to be taken without reservation, her own need flaring up to meet yours. The initial pain dulled, replaced by a throbbing pleasure that grew with each powerful thrust, filling her completely in a way that left her gasping. She clung to you, her nails raking through your fur, holding you close as if to anchor herself in this wild storm. You were rough, your hands wrapping around her waist like a belt, lifting her small frame with each deep drive. Every thrust was strong, unrestrained, but she understood that this was your way of showing her how much you needed her, how much you had held back until now.

“I can take it… I can take you,” she moaned, her voice breathless and full of need, her body surrendering entirely as your rhythm took her to the edge, each thrust carrying her deeper into the whirlwind of ecstasy. And as her voice filled the space between you, you could feel her acceptance, her desire, her trust—trust in all of you, the man and the beast entwined. Her words fueled your movements, drawing out a depth of passion that you hadn’t known you were capable of, and together, in the rhythm that bound you, you found a unity, a shared surrender that transcended the boundaries of what you had been before.

Your growls deepened, your grip on her tightening as you pulled her closer, deeper. Your pace quickened, your breathing ragged as you neared the edge. Hyeju could feel it too—the tension in your body, the desperation in your movements. You were close.

As your thrusts became more frantic, Hyeju’s own pleasure surged. She arched her back, gasping your name as her body tightened around you, the overwhelming sensation pushing her closer and closer to the brink. She wasn’t just taking you anymore—she was lost in you.

“FUCK YES BABY, claim me, mark me, do everything to make me yours forever”

The air between you crackles with the intensity of the moment, charged with an almost visible energy that binds you both in its electrifying grip. Every breath, every inch of space, is alive with a current that flows from you to her and back again, an endless loop of energy and desire that leaves no room for doubt or hesitation. As your movements grow more intense, more purposeful, a primal need overtakes you—a raw, consuming force that drives you forward, until that last, powerful thrust carries both of you across an invisible threshold. It’s more than a joining; it’s an act that resonates on a level deeper than flesh, a physical and spiritual fusion that feels as though your very souls are entwined.

Hyeju’s body responds instinctively, her breath catching in her throat as she feels herself filled completely, claimed in a way that goes beyond the physical. She can feel you within her not only in her body but in her very core, touching a place so deep it feels like you’re etching yourself into her spirit. The sensation is overwhelming, washing over her like wave after wave, resonating in the hidden spaces of her heart and mind, reaching into the depths of who she is. The intensity of it leaves her breathless, suspended in a realm of sensation and connection where nothing else exists.

And then, in a moment of fierce, possessive tenderness, you lower your mouth to her neck, a primal growl rumbling from deep within your chest. As your teeth pierce the delicate skin, a sharp gasp escaped her lips, the sudden bite a bold, possessive claim that sends a fresh surge of feeling through her. The bite is both a brand and a promise, an ancient ritual of dominion and devotion. The sting of it is sharp, grounding her even as it electrifies her senses, drawing a fine line between pain and pleasure, agony and ecstasy. She arches into you, her body a willing canvas as you mark her, the bite an indelible declaration that says without words: she is yours.

The pain of your teeth sinking into her skin serves as a fierce counterpoint to the pleasure that swells within her, a raw edge that makes every sensation more vivid. It anchors her even as it pushes her toward the brink, a grounding force in the swirling maelstrom of ecstasy that consumes her. The juxtaposition of agony and rapture only heightens her response, a perfect balance that holds her suspended on the razor’s edge of surrender.

As the bite reaches its peak, her cry breaks free, piercing through the night—a sound raw and unrestrained, the pure, unfiltered release of everything she has held back. “AAGH, FUCK YES!” The words spill from her, half a scream, half a prayer, as her body shakes with the force of her climax, her form bending under the weight of pleasure that borders on transcendence. She feels as though every nerve, every fiber of her being, is caught in a storm, shuddering with the aftershocks of an earthquake that has left nothing in its wake but pure, blissful devastation.

Your own release follows, a deep, animalistic rumble vibrating from your chest as the tension within you finally snaps. You let go completely, your body shaking as you fill her with warmth, the final, powerful surge of your passion consuming you both. And then, as the climax reaches its height, instinct takes over—a last, intense push as your knot swells, anchoring her to you with a bond as primal as it is undeniable. The sensation is overwhelming, binding her to you in a way that feels like destiny, like an unbreakable tether. Her body instinctively tightens around you, holding you close as her own pulse echoes yours, each beat surrendering to the feeling of being utterly claimed.

The growls fade to a low, satisfied hum as the last waves of release leave you both trembling, bodies still locked together, bound by the knot that signifies not just satisfaction but a profound connection. You pull her closer, breath ragged in her ear as you hold her, feeling the beast’s hunger finally satiated, fulfilled in a way that only she could offer.

Hyeju lies beneath you, her body still quivering from the aftermath, limbs slack with the kind of deep contentment that transcends words. She feels completely and utterly yours, marked not only by the bite on her neck but by the knot still connecting you both—a reminder of the bond you share, a connection that feels eternal and unbreakable. There’s a sense of peace that settles over both of you, a quiet understanding that whatever trials may come, this moment is yours, shared and sacred.

As the tremors begin to fade, you relax against her, the heat of your body melting into hers, your claws retracting as the last remnants of your hunger dissolve into a gentle calm. The weight of you grounds her, and she feels rooted, steady, even as her heart slows and her breathing deepens. For a few long moments, there’s no sound but the soft rhythm of your shared breaths, the quiet thrum of your heartbeats in sync. The warmth that wraps around both of you is more than physical; it’s a cocoon of shared passion, of trust and fulfillment, a sanctuary that nothing else can touch.

In that moment, Hyeju knows she belongs here, held by you, her world safe and still in your arms. The bite on her neck still stings, intensifying the sense of connection between you. She has been marked—claimed in the most primal, intimate way possible. And even though the night has been rough, more intense than she ever imagined, she can’t deny the rush of emotions flooding her: love, fulfillment, an almost surreal sense of completeness.

As you calm, the wild edge within you begins to fade, the beast giving way to something softer, gentler. Leaning close, you nuzzle her neck, pressing your warm nose against the tender bite mark and letting out a low, contented rumble. With each careful lick over the small wound, you soothe the sting, the earlier aggression melting away into affectionate tenderness. Your breaths slow as you relax against her, your knot still holding you both together, anchoring her in a way that feels as intimate as it does comforting. Hyeju can feel the lingering fullness, a reminder of the bond that ties you to her as you both come down from the intense high of the night.

Hyeju, still catching her breath and feeling the sweet ache left in her body, smiles softly, her gaze filled with warmth. Every part of her feels claimed, loved, and deeply cherished. The fullness you’ve left within her is more than just a physical sensation; it’s an unspoken promise, a silent reminder of your commitment and desire for her. Her arms wrap around your broad shoulders, fingers tracing lightly down your back, lingering over the places where her nails had scratched you in the heat of the moment. She can see faint marks in your fur where her touch had dug in, and the sight makes her heart skip. Each scratch, each mark is a reminder of the intense, passionate exchange you’ve shared, of how neither of you held anything back.

Now that control has returned to you, you let out a long, contented sigh and press your forehead gently to hers, a quiet moment of reconnection. A soft whimper escapes you, thick with regret, a noise so unlike the powerful growls from before. But Hyeju simply shakes her head, pressing a gentle hand to the back of your neck, her thumb tracing soothing circles. “It’s okay, baby,” she murmurs, her voice a gentle reassurance. Her fingers thread through your hair, grounding you. “It was intense, yes, but… I wanted all of you. This—us—it’s everything to me.”

Your golden eyes soften at her words, your heart filled with gratitude and love. For a moment, it’s just you—the person she’d always loved, her protector, her partner. You lean in, your tongue flicking softly over her cheek in a loving lick, a tender gesture that makes her laugh softly as she pulls you closer. You inhale her scent, now mingled with a hint of your own, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond you have solidified together. “I’m yours,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper as her fingers curl around your fur. “Always.”

Wrapped together beneath the soft glow of the full moon, the storm of primal intensity fades into a peaceful silence. For a long while, you remain tangled in each other’s warmth, still joined, breathing in sync, hearts beating close. Her fingers gently run through the thick fur of your back, scratching you lightly as she strokes the soft patches on your neck and chest, making your eyelids droop as you melt into her touch. You nuzzle her affectionately, licking her cheek again, her chin, her hand—anywhere you can reach as she coos softly, her voice lulling you further into contentment.

With a final, contented sigh, Hyeju snuggles into your chest, her arms wrapped around you as her fingers stroke your fur, calming you both with each gentle pass. And there, in the quiet embrace of morning, you both drift into a peaceful sleep, still bound by the knot that holds you together, entwined in each other’s warmth and presence, bound by love stronger than any force or instinct.

[yncoreee]

OMG. Hyeju x reader

Synopsis — the cold student isn’t actually so cold and stoic after all

Warnings .ᐟ Grumpy X sunshine (kinda), made the reader have dimples for the plot (ofc), wrote this at freaking 3:00am😪, just something short.

꩜ — ⵌWord count no word count cuz I wrote this shit directly in tumblr :/

It was a normal day in class, you were listening attentively to the teacher until you heard scribbles coming from your side.

You glanced over at you seat mate Hyeju, you noticed her sketching something in her sketch pad.

You tried to peep to look at what she was doing, it seemed like she was just halfway done.

She noticed you staring, immediately she closed her sketch pad. “What’d you want?” She asked in a monotone. Her face remaining cold and stoic.

You were not fazed by her tone, you’ve been seat mates since the beginning of high school. “Oh I—uhh just wanted to ask for a pencil mine’s broken” you lied smiling awkwardly.

She raised an eyebrow as you said that. She looks up at you and notices your dimples. She shook her head getting that thought out.

“Yeah right! I clearly saw you trying to peak at what I was drawing” she rolled her eyes, dipping her hand into her pencil case.

“Here” she handed you a brand new pencil, neatly sharpened. As you reach out for it both of your fingers brushed against each other, you swore you saw a hint of warmth in her eyes.

“Be careful not to break this one” she warns her tone somewhat softer than the previous one.

As the class went on you noticed Hyeju kept glancing at you from the corner of your eyes. Her eyes would flit your direction every now and then.

But she immediately looked away whenever you turn around to look at her.

Class ended for the day, everyone parted ways. Some going to their after school clubs while some went straight home.

You decided to walk around the school, peeping your head into every club just to pass time.

Once you were satisfied and read to go home, you backed your backpack making your way over to the entrance of the school only to notice the heavy rain pouring. “Damn it! Why didn’t I take an umbrella” you cursed under your breath kicking the puddle of water with your feet.

You sighed leaning against the entrance. You thought of calling your older sister to come pick you up or something but remembered she said she was going on some kind of blind date.

After minutes of contemplating you finally gave up and decided you’ll just walk home in the rain.

Before you could take a step forward a hand was placed on your shoulder refraining you from moving forward.

You whipped your head around only to see Hyeju looking down at you with an emotionless face.

“Here take this. You can’t go out in the rain, you’ll get sick” she blankly said handing you her umbrella.

“But wait—“ she left. She left without an explanation.

You held onto the umbrella staring at the spot she had just left.

You weren’t going to lie. Her action actually touched you a bit. It made you feel a bit of warmth inside your chest.

[wonysugar]

i’ll wake you up | son hyeju

synopsis : she looked just like the moon.. maybe that’s why you took her gaze as an invitation to doze off.

pairing : stranger!hyeju x sleepdeprived!femreader

genre : fluffy! strangers to… NOT strangers? idk reader thinks hyeju is pretty

tags : subway, reader is TIREDDD, fluff, one shot, that’s basically it lmfao

word count : 1k (?)

12:29 am.

you thought that living so far away from your university was going to help romanticize your studies more, yknow! make you wanna glam up and actually wanna go on campus in the first place. turns out, after a couple of semesters, you were more than wrong,

and you realized that just now, especially since it’s, again, 12:29 am and you’re trying to get back home using public transport whilst also running on barely 2 hours of sleep!

being in this type of situation made you rethink your whole original thought process; romanticizing my ass, you thought, i don’t even have a car, who made me think getting into a university that far away from my home was a good idea??

as you pondered, you didn’t realize how your eyes seemed to close by themselves, almost like they were being forcefully shut tight by some invisible force; despite the numerous loud noises assaulting your ears, the ones that would prevent you from falling asleep in an average context, you were getting dangerously close to snoozing. you fought back and mentally slapped yourself to stay conscious, of course, not wanting to doze off in the middle of some practically empty subway, (especially not this late into the night). the thought of finally getting some rest, however, no mind the place, was very tempting. 

god, what you would’ve done to be in your bed at that moment.

as time passed, you were getting more and more absorbed by your own progressively ambiguous thoughts and felt your eyes get heavier, eventually falling deeper into a state of deep and extreme fatigue. 

it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes for a few minutes, right? you thought.

giving into the desire, you finally allowed your eyes to take a break and closed them, feeling almost immediate relief when you did.

until that relief turned into annoyance.

your eyes attempted to rest for what felt like only a small minute, the only thing preventing you from fully falling into a deep state of slumber being the movement of the transport and the stress of potentially missing your stop.

this was useless, only thing you could do was push through the whole ride and crash into your bed as soon as you get home.

when your eyes eventually fluttered back open, you raised your head back up and blinked away the sleepiness, allowing yourself to get used to reality, the setting and environment of the subway becoming familiar to you again. because, despite that break being short, it was enough for you to feel like you were dreaming. 

you cluelessly looked around, from the left to your right; the latter being the direction that your head was strangely leaning into. you were immediately greeted by an unexpected sight. 

a woman that looked about your age, but something about her somehow radiated maturity. her visage was coated with nothing but gentleness, yet her gaze was so strangely stern and tense, offering a balanced contrast to her face; she looked intimidating, yet had more than a welcoming aura. the girl’s facial structure was beautiful, too, but you mostly noticed how her long, wavy and healthy-looking black hair gracefully fell onto the slightly chubby sides of her face before you observed all of her other features with close attention. 

her mouth had somewhat of a downward triangular shape, it almost looked like a natural pout; you still could barely register anything in front of you at that moment, but you knew it was captivating.

man, you thought, she’s really pretty.

then, you realized that the reason why she was staring at you in that worried, puzzled manner.

you fell asleep on her shoulder.

“a-are you okay—“

before she could finish her sentence, that realization made you quickly snap back into reality and freak, very clearly embarrassed out of your damn mind, “shit, i’m so so sorry i didn’t mean to doze off like that, dear god i’m sorry—“

“i-it’s fine. i promise, it’s okay.” she waved her hands around wearing a subtle and compassionate smile, nervously trying to make you understand that what you did was completely harmless. 

you? you rubbed your eyes, groaning. you were still mentally slapping yourself for doing something that embarrassing; you rested your head and slept on a stranger’s shoulder. a stranger. it may not seem like that big of a deal, but to someone as socially awkward and anxious as yourself? this was suicide.

giggling to herself at your visible and quite frankly unnecessary distress, she slightly tugged on your shirt as a way to catch your attention. once she had it, she proceeded,

“you’re okay, it didn’t bother me at all, i swear. if anything, you probably need to get more hours of sleep if you just take naps on people’s shoulders like that.”

all you could do was look away in a guilty and embarrassed manner, she was right.

then, she spoke up again. “i’ll tell you what,” she smiled, before asking, “which one’s your stop?” 

you stumbled on your words, still slightly fatigued, before answering, “uh.. l-lampfield.”

“ah,” she said softly, smiling politely, “that’s my stop too. it won’t be a while till we get there, so.. you can sleep some more.” 

“but—“

“i insist. seriously don’t worry about it.” 

“o-okay… alright.” you shyly nodded.

she gently wrapped her arm around you and placed her hand behind your head, carefully pushing it onto her shoulder yet again. a sense of relief and comfort invaded your entire body upon being in small contact with her hands, especially when her fingers nicely massaged your scalp.

with every word she softly spoke, she lit up the entire dark subway with light. she radiated light with her presence alone; not sunlight, though… something more discreet than sunlight, something that quietly heals you and keeps you safe from the nearby darkness, unlike the sun that exhibits it for everyone to see. something like… moonlight.

yeah, you figured it out, that’s what she looked like. 

she looked like the moon. 

maybe that’s why it was so effortless to just fall asleep around her.

you let yourself get comfortable as you leaned against her for support. and before you felt yourself get sleepy once again, this time from her tender touch, you heard her same familiar voice place in a few words. words that made you feel safer than any lullaby ever could, words that made you wonder if you would get the chance to ever ask her name.

“i’ll wake you up.”

[goldennikko]

SOFT SPOT — son hyeju

summary : you'd never admit it to anyone, but hyeju was your weakness. however, a certain someone knew.

pairing : olivia hye x 13th member!reader

tags : f!reader ; idol!au ; reader is '99 liner ; cold!reader ; hurt/comfort (?) ; mentions of chuu leaving loona ; mentions of bbc ; swearing

requested: ✔

word count : 3.1k

you stared at the message that flashed across your phone screen minutes ago, sent by a family member who supported your journey with the group, as you sat in the living room with some of your members. it was an article about one of your members, jiwoo, to be specific, and your eyes scanned the seemingly incomprehensible sentences of the statement.

you just stared at it in silence, your head trying to catch up with the news and your millions of panicked thoughts, but your brain refused to accept the information until you heard a pair of feet padding around the corner and looked up just in time for the maknae to appear.

"is it true?" yeojin sobbed, her voice breaking as she stared at you through misty eyes that screamed denial at the news that had just reached you.

you avoided her gaze, unsure how to respond to her question because you were still trying to wrap your head around it. your gaze returned to your phone, and you scanned the article's headline for the nth time in the previous ten minutes.

breaking: loona's agency announces chuu's removal from the group

you close your eyes, feeling your heart break as a result of yeojin's cry.

"jiwoo unnie is leaving us?"

you tuned out the rest of the conversation, which was just the older members trying to take control of the situation and care for the younger ones because haseul hadn't returned home yet, both kahei and hyunjin were on their respective schedules, and no one knew where jiwoo was at the moment.

"that's not fucking true." 

because of sooyoung's outburst, you opened your eyes and met hyeju's blank eyes, which mirrored yours, before averting your gaze to sooyoung, who had been silent for the past few minutes and was just glaring holes into her phone screen.

"there's no fucking way jiwoo would do that." she seethed.

"haseul unnie is not answering her phone." jinsol murmured, taking the phone away from her ear to quickly text haseul before trying again. she looked at yerim, trying to stop her sobs, and wrapped her arm around the younger girl, allowing her to cry into her shoulder.

"same with jiwoo, cannot be reached." in frustration, jungeun almost threw the phone away, but she managed to keep her cool despite the mounting tears.

you couldn't take the pain any longer, so you got up and left, not looking back even when heejin summoned you with a pleading tone in her voice.

"y/n unnie. unnie, please."

however, you did not listen and walked down the corridor, causing the girl to sigh sadly.

hyeju remained silent in her seat as she watched you walk away; even when you disappeared into your room, which you shared with kahei, jungeun, heejin, and chaewon. she just stared at the spot you were previously at. 

her body was itching to move, to follow you. 

her brain yelled at her to get up and move.

however, she couldn't.

everyone knew you and your coping mechanisms in situations like this, when you felt suffocated and trapped. you isolate yourself.

hyeju wanted to join you, but after seeing how you refused to even be in the same room as them and ignored heejin's call, she sat back down.

haseul soon returned with teary eyes, and she burst into tears when she saw her members crying together in the living room, causing another wave of tears from everyone. some of the members tried to console everyone who was crying, but they teared up with them and looked away. 

meanwhile, you were curled up in bed, hugging the animal plushie jiwoo had given you, your jaw clenched as you heard the cries from the living room. you closed your eyes, blocking the noise with pillows, which did nothing, but sleep found its way to you, and you were soon drifting off, your mind filled with thoughts of jiwoo leaving the group.

"is she still not out yet?" 

night arrived, jiwoo had not yet returned, and you had not left the room, even locking your roommates out. haseul tried to coax you out earlier after arriving and explaining the situation to the others, but she got no response.

sooyoung and jungeun also tried, the latter cursing you for locking them out, which you heard but knew was a joke and her attempt to get you to unlock the door. however, it also did not work.

it was now kahei's turn. when she got home, she didn't even look at her members because she was focused on getting you out of the room. it took a long time, and everyone waited in anticipation, with hyeju staring intently into the corridor as if her gaze would be enough to call you back.

the oldest, like the others, returned with a worried frown. she shook her head at haseul, then looked at hyunjin, who was leaning on heejin for support.

hyeju clicked her tongue, cursing your stubborn nature. "she's not going to."

haseul sighed. "she hasn't had her lunch or dinner yet."

hyeju frowned as she looked at the food on the table, her worry growing as she stared at it. despite being younger, she cared for you. hyeju cast another glance down the corridor, wishing you would just leave your room. her body moved an inch, but she managed to shake herself out of it just as she was about to get out of her seat.

however, the elbow digging into her side made her jump, and she turned to chaewon with an annoyed frown, which chaewon returned with her own. the girl had been watching hyeju's internal conflict the entire time, watching her tense eyes move back and forth between the corridor, the table, and her palms.

"go." chaewon nudged her head in the direction of your room, and hyeju took a brief glance before shaking her head.

"unnie wants to be alone."

the other girl gave her another irritated look. "the look you two shared earlier says otherwise."

hyeju shook her head and averted her gaze, your guarded expression and helpless eyes from earlier when you made eye contact flashing through her mind. "i don't know what you're talking about."

pausing, they turned to yerim when she spoke, sniffling quietly. "we shouldn't force y/n unnie. she's… quite scary."

hyunjin shook her head. "but we need unnie right now."

chaewon leaned into hyeju while the others started to argue, causing the other girl to instinctively lean away from her. chaewon didn't mind, simply raising a brow at hyeju, who frowned.

"look, if anyone can get past unnie's cold and guarded exterior, it's you." chaewon tried to persuade the younger girl, and jinsol next to them nodded, but they were both too preoccupied with the situation to notice her. "jiwoo unnie can do it as well, considering they're best friends, but that's extremely rare."

hyeju remained silent as she processed chaewon's words, but she was taking too long, and chaewon's patience was running thin.

they needed you, and someone has to get you out of there.

chaewon's hand found hyeju's shoulder, and hyeju felt the arm against her lower back. hyeju tensed up and turned to glare at chaewon, but the girl beat her to it and pushed her out of her seat.

when she felt herself being pushed out of her seat, hyeju had to play it off in front of the others to avoid embarrassment, silently walking past them and sending chaewon one last look. chaewon simply smiled sarcastically at her, proud of what she had accomplished, and watched as hyeju walked down the corridor.

"hyeju's gonna try?" sooyung inquired, thumbs too busy typing yet another message to jiwoo. yeojin stood nearby, trying to peek over to read the lengthy message.

chaewon nodded and haseul sighed, worry written all over the leader's face. "i hope she can do it."

hyeju stood there, her fist raised to knock on the door, but hesitations took precedence, so she just stood there. she stared at the door, expecting it to open magically, but it didn't. she sighed in frustration and turned to leave before your voice from within made her freeze, shoulders rising to show the tension.

"hyeju."

hyeju's gaze returned to the door, her face flushed with embarrassment that she tried to hide with her usual poker face. hyeju knew if you saw her right now, you'd notice she was embarrassed, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try to hide the flush across her cheeks. hyeju heard the door unlock, and luckily for her, you didn't open it, giving her time to gather her thoughts.

"come in."

hyeju did as she was told, relieved that you weren't pushing her away like you do with the members. she stood in the doorway, staring at you as you sat on your bed, a deep frown on your face. 

when you two fell silent, you looked at the tense girl, who jumped slightly when your gaze landed on her, putting on a brave face despite the flush creeping up her neck. despite being amused, you couldn't bring yourself to laugh at her and instead patted the space next to you.

"don't just stand there, idiot."

hyeju clicked her tongue. "who are you calling an idiot, huh?"

despite her grumbled response, the younger girl approached you and sat down next to you, shoulders tense and arms crossed in front of her chest.

"you. who else?" you quipped.

the girl glared at you. "between us, you're the idiot."

"sure, hyeju. sure."

hyeju kept staring at you as you pretended to be unconcerned. she noticed how your seemingly blank eyes scanned the room as if for the first time, but hyeju knew it was a habit you'd developed over time. it meant you were attempting to postpone and, hopefully, avoid the upcoming confrontation or conversation she was about to spring on you.

her gaze was drawn to your clasped hands in your lap, your thumb running over the back of your hand, your nail lightly scratching the reddening skin. it meant that you were anxious the entire time you were locked inside the room, despite the cold mask you were wearing.

her gaze returned to your face, and her brow furrowed and nose scrunched at the same time as yours. hyeju knew you found something really repulsive just by that action, so she followed your gaze and saw the animal plushie.

"i thought you loved that plushie?" hyeju queried, knowing jiwoo gave it to you.

you huffed. "i do."

"then why are you glaring at it?"

you noticed her carefully staring at your side profile, attempting to read you. if hyeju was difficult to read, you were even more difficult to crack. despite knowing all of your habits, hyeju found it hard to read you.

you shook your head. "i wasn't."

hyeju gave you a look and merely pointed at your brow. "your brow just twitched."

"and?" you urged, raising the mentioned brow at her.

she blinked. "you're lying."

"i'm not." you huffed and your brow twitched again, causing hyeju to point it out.

"your brow twitched."

you sighed, annoyance in your tone, and hyeju just stared at you, not even slightly offended because she knew you were irritated by the fact that she could read you this time, not with her specifically.

"what do you want, hyeju?" you asked, your facade gradually melting away. 

you avoided her calculating gaze, and maybe it was just your imagination, but you noticed a hint of softness swirling in her orbs. 

"i don't wanna go back out there just yet."

"i was not going to force you." hyeju said, shrugging.

you shared a brief glance. "then what are you doing here?"

it was hyeju's turn to look away, her face flushed with embarrassment. the words were on the tip of her tongue, and they plagued her mind, but she couldn't say them in front of you because she knew you'd tease her.

i wanted to be here with you.

so she swallowed the words and replaced them with her own remark to lightly tease you.

"the unnies told me to check on you. i didn't want to, but they threatened me."

when you went silent, hyeju took a look at you but quickly turned away when she saw your intense orbs. you watched the redness on her face worsen, but you didn't say anything and exhaled. you knew she was lying though. if the redness of her face wasn't enough proof, the way her eyes shook when they met yours was.

"what do we do?" hyeju asked after a moment of silence, trying to get you to open up.

you hummed, glancing at the plushie. "i don't know. i'm not sure."

"and how are you feeling?"

hyeju was met with silence, but she knew you were just gathering your thoughts, so she waited for your response, if you were going to respond at all. either way, she wouldn't mind and would stay with you, sitting next to you to offer you the support you desperately needed.

"nothing."

hyeju looked at you, watching your hair get in the way as you shook your head, hiding your misty eyes behind a curtain of strands.

"i feel nothing."

hyeju acknowledged you with a hum and reached out. her fingertips touched your skin, making you tense and her pause as she waited for you to push her away. when you remained silent, hyeju tucked your hair behind your ear and frowned as she finally caught sight of your eyes.

"i'm not gonna say we're gonna be okay because we both know that's bullshit." hyeju murmured, triumphantly smiling as she noticed the slight and quick upturn of the corner of your lips after hearing her curse. "but i'm…"

you looked at her, your ears perking up as she trailed off, and you saw hesitation written all over her face. hyeju scrunched her nose in disapproval as she prepared to finish her sentence, and you simply smiled, imagining the internal conflict going on in her head.

you weren't prepared, though, because her words came out faster than you expected.

"but i'm here for you."

you and hyeju exchanged glances, yours filled with surprise and hers with embarrassment. hyeju glared at you as you blinked, trying to process her words. when you did, you turned away because it was your turn to turn red, the color crawling up your neck and across your nose. hyeju couldn't see it because you had turned completely away from her, but she watched you as you scooted closer to her, still refusing to look at her.

"what are you—?"

when she felt your head land on her shoulders, her entire body tensed. her heart flipped in her chest, and her face turned even redder than it had been. you were also quiet, waiting for the younger girl to calm down before speaking.

"i can't stay."

hyeju opened her mouth to speak, brow furrowed, to say something in response to your statement, but you squeezed her thigh, preventing the refusal from spilling out.

"the company is shit and jiwoo's leaving. i love you and the girls, but if jiwoo won't be here, what is the point?"

hyeju remained silent to consider your words, shaky panicked eyes darting all over the place in panic before settling on your hand, where you had begun picking at your skin as you awaited her response. the younger girl, irritated, put her hand over your clasped hands, causing you to freeze.

"stop that." hyeju grumbled, causing you to huff.

"i'm trying, but it's a habit."

hyeju felt your finger move to poke your skin as you replied, so she took your right hand and pulled it over to her lap, intertwining your fingers. you blinked as you watched her stroke the red skin with her thumb, a red hue appearing across your face.

"if you're leaving, i'm leaving."

you hummed. "really?"

hyeju nodded, squeezing your hand. i have no reason to stay if you're leaving. she refused to say it aloud. however, she tensed up when she heard a small chuckle from you.

"is that so?"

"shut up." hyeju grumbled.

hyeju missed your warmth as you sat up properly, but thankfully you didn't pull your hand back and let the younger girl trace your soft skin. hyeju watched, eyes twinkling ever so slightly, as you laughed lightly in delight. 

when your gaze met hers, hyeju didn't see the usual blank expression or glare. she could only see you right now. therewas no mask, disguise, or act. hyeju could see sadness swirling in your orbs as you remembered jiwoo, as well as fear at the prospect of leaving the spotlight and the girls, but relief at her presence in the room.

hyeju was able to read you. hyeju could see it.

and so she flushed. 

she watched silently as you leaned in to plant a small kiss on her cheek, your cold demeanor melting away right in front of her, and squeezed her hand.

"thank you, hyeju."

hyeju looked away, humming in response. "of course, unnie."

you both heard a knock on the door and turned around, hyeju glancing discreetly at you and noticing your cold mask was back on. she couldn't help but be disappointed, loving the smile on your face earlier, but was also relieved she was the only one who saw it.

haseul's worried gaze met yours, as did kahei's soft smile, her gaze fixed on your intertwined hands. you followed her gaze and squeezed hyeju's hand before standing up and dragging her along with you.

"you ready to talk, y/n/n?"

you nodded. "yes, unnie."

kahei gave a soft smile. "alright, let's go. you need to eat, too."

as you made your way back to the living room, you glanced at hyeju and gave her hand another squeeze to make her look at you. hyeju raised her brows, her gaze falling on your lips as you mouthed her some words.

"thank you."

in response, the younger girl nodded. hyeju drew you in closer, silently promising that she would go with you anywhere. even if it meant leaving idol life, she'd be content as long as she could be with you.

you were aware of this, and you would make certain that hyeju, along with the girls, could escape the company with you.

besides, she's not going to let you go just yet.

hyeju still has something to tell you.

she must confess her feelings to you or they will haunt her for the rest of her life.

however, for the time being, her priority would be jiwoo and leaving the company with you.

nikko note: hi, everyone! olivia hye fic coming through! it hurts writing for loona T^T anyway, i'm sorry for taking so long. i'm so busy, so please be patient with me! i hope you liked this one! thank you for reading!

[gowonders]

So sorry, my writing kinda sucks

I meant G!P Hyeju as a Yandere Idol who’s like obsessed w her gf (reader) but reader cant tell anyone because Hyeju is a very loved idol and no one would believe her? I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense, my brain isn’t working rn😭😭

nooo bae don’t apologize, my english isn’t perf so i definitely don’t understand things a lot… 😋 also idk if this is good.. i don’t really write dark stuff like this and g!p.. but ykw.. i tried ⭐️

minors dni<3

warnings: english isn’t my first language, not proofread, implied dubcon, drugging, toxic + manipulative hyeju, somno????, jerking off to you.. lmk if i missed any!

a grin across her face as she places a small tablet that could ruin hyejus career in your drink, swirling around the fizzing capsule before placing the glass in front of you. “mm, drink up, hon.” she says flatly, taking a sip of her own drink. your shaky hands reach out to wrap your fingers around the glass. you knew what would happen, if you drank it, you’d wake up feeling all fuzzy in the morning. if you didn’t, you were in for a nightmare of the world of hyeju threatening everything and anything about you. with a regretful sigh, you take a sip, or two, or another.. till the glass is gone. “see.. wasn’t that hard at all. was it? wasn’t that good?” hyeju coaxes, coming up behind you to rub at your shoulders. “yes but.. hyeju. the drinks you give me always make me feel weird.. like.. i wake up and feel staticky.” you mumble, looking down at the empty glass between your hands. this makes hyeju scoff and shake her head. “doll, it’s all in your head. why would i do anything like that? i’m an idol after all, you’d think out of all people, i’d be scared of being drugged. not some normal person like you.” she says in a flat tone, taking your glass to rinse it in the sink. “baby, aren’t you tired? why don’t we get you to sleep.” she says, and that you do. because you can never reject hyeju. what she says, goes.

you’re asleep. and unbeknownst to you, hyejus night isn’t near over yet. you’re so pretty when you sleep, lips parted, eyes shut, soft breaths as your chest rises and falls.. you look so vulnerable. so.. innocent. and it was really a shame that hyeju has to do this, but she really doesn’t want to be a bother, after all, you sleeping here was more than enough.

with a stiff groan, she’s already pulling her waistband down just enough to make her cock spring out. her eyes dart all over your unconscious body, and her fingers ever-so-slightly wrap around her length, her eyes gliding to your thighs, and a stifled moan leaves her at the thought of just being able to touch them. use them. to her own expense. you’d be so, so easy.

she was in for it now. all you had to do was wake up, she’d use you, all confused and sleepy for her.

[hyeitsju]

hi! can you write reaction for hyeju to see fem!reader on run,orbit and being surprised? we need fluff more fluff with her ❤

A/n: I assume that the relationship is hidden, if you wanted a public relationship lmk and I will redo it. Also, I made reader a Loona member/in artms, if that wasn’t what you wanted I’ll fix it!

(Hyeju x 13th Member!FEMALE Reader)

Note(please read!):

I know that the run, orbit event happened but I can’t find any videos of what happened at the event 😭😭 so I’m going in kinda blind. I’ve been searching for the past few hours. So in here they’re just gonna do a q&a, and do games similar to those that you’d do in elementary gym class including racing because that’s all I can find 😭 I’ll redo it once I find more vids from the event! So sorry!!!

She was preparing as usual while the other members where whispering and giggling about something

She was a little upset because while Chuuves were able to come and surprise orbits, you and the rest of artms were busy

Unknowing that the girls had a surprise for her.

Once her and the rest of Loossemble reached the event and Chuuves made their entrance, she was very suprised to see you there with them

Her mood and her smile would instantly brighten

She would run over to you and give you the biggest hug, it had been about two to three weeks since y’all had last seen each other in person although you texted 24/7

While you and Chuuves were talking, Hyeju would be staring at you with heart eyes and a smile on her face

Hyunjin having to pinch her to bring her back

And obviously teasing her while doing it

Once y’all would start doing the games, she try her hardest to stand out and would get lowkey jealous when you would talk about someone elses skills but would try and hide it it would be very obvious

She just wants to do every activity with you

Omg, Hyeju letting you win a race with her because you were on a loosing streak and she wanted to see you smile AHHH

Constantly holding your hand

If not that then a half on your waist or an arm around your shoulder, she just missed you a lot

I just know the ship vids of y’all would be THROUGH THE ROOF

#1 trending on Twitter: #hyey/n

Once y’all would leave, she would give you the biggest hug and kiss ever

Would want to go on a little date together to catch up

Just at your home or hers, ordering food and playing games while you talk about anything and everything

And ending the day asleep in her arms

I’m sorry this is so short! I’ve been trying to add some more things but I can’t think of much.☹️ If you don’t like this, again, don’t be afraid to let me know! I’ll gladly redo your request. Have a good day/afternoon/night!! 💗💗

[newjeansgirlfriend]

these will probably take a while bc theyre going to be long and i cant write long things but which do u want me to finish writing first

[jupiterpilgrim]

Damage Control

Hyeju x Male Reader

word count: 12.8K

It's a very important day for her, and you couldn't care less.

The gallery is a monument to pretension. Pristine white walls, the kind that seem to say: if you don’t get it, that’s on you, with polished concrete floors, where every heel echoes like a hammer of self-doubt. The lights dangle from the ceiling at precise angles, spotlighting the photos with calculated exactness, but also highlighting the insecurities of the photographers pacing back and forth, trying to look more confident than they actually feel.

Hyeju, for example, is dressed in something that is clearly not part of her natural wardrobe. Normally, she’d be seen in practical clothes, loose coats, comfortable pants—something she could lose herself in while exploring the world through her camera. But tonight, oh, tonight she’s a woman wrestling with a dress that’s undeniably expensive and likely borrowed from a friend too rich to care. The dress is black, too tight in the wrong places, and shiny enough to make her feel like a piece of art—not the interesting kind. The heels are high, torturous, and with each step, Hyeju wonders if it wouldn’t be easier to take the photos lying on the floor, where, at least, she wouldn’t have to balance like a drunken acrobat.

Her hair, normally loose and wild, has been tamed into an elegant updo, something that seems more like a modern art attempt than a style choice. She feels as if she’s disguised as someone who knows what they’re doing, an impostor among the real artists—or at least those confident enough to pretend.

And yet, as she catches her reflection in the gallery’s display cases, she tries to convince herself she’s worthy. After all, her series is hanging on the walls, among the others, and maybe, just maybe, that means she belongs here, dress or no dress.

But deep down, all Hyeju can think is: this is too much champagne and too many heels for someone who just wants to be a photographer.

—

She’s standing in the corner, beside her exhibit, her fourth glass of champagne disappearing in nervous sips. She watches the movement around her, but her mind is too occupied to register any useful details. The selection hasn’t started yet, and the photographer, the main critic of the night, is running late. Of course he is.

Important people always are.

Hyeju aspires to be among the top five winners of the contest. The prize? Well, merely having her work published in one of the world's most renowned photography magazines, plus a special tour with her essay showcased in various galleries worldwide; the doors this contest could open for her are endless. And what makes things even more thrilling is that she genuinely believes she has a chance this time. Five people out of twenty will be chosen. She'll be one of them.

But...

Before basking in the glamour, however, she must face evaluation by a judge with an unknown temperament. Still, she's confident that anyone with an ounce of sense will recognize the exceptional quality of her work, transcending subjective interpretations.

She turns to her photos on the wall. The series, the work that might define her career, is there, fixed and unchanging, awaiting the unforgiving judgment of a room full of pretentious people. The black-and-white images of dockworkers—strong arms, faces weathered by salt and years of invisible labor, staring down containers that don’t ask questions. The world’s transience captured there, with cranes bearing the weight of global needs as if countries exchanged desires with the clasp of metallic hands. Each container holds a secret, a demand from the other side of the ocean, and the workers, small figures in the photos, turn the wheels of the world unnoticed.

Hyeju tries to find flaws. Maybe the lighting in this shot is too strong, or perhaps the framing is slightly off. Or maybe...

No, maybe it’s just the champagne.

“Excuse me,” a female voice interrupts, pulling her out of her self-deprecating thoughts. It’s a young woman, likely an assistant, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, with the programmed friendliness of someone who’s delivered the same news dozens of times today: “The selection is about to begin.”

Hyeju mutters something that could be a “thank you” and tries to steady her breathing, handing her champagne glass to a passing waiter with such force she nearly topples the tray. Each contestant will get their five minutes of attention. She surveys the other exhibits—some incredibly well-composed, others almost amateurish. She might have a chance, maybe, if the stars align and the critic isn’t a complete jerk—or worse, utterly pretentious.

Time passes.

Then, suddenly, the group appears. Journalists and other professionals in similar fields, all carrying that aura of critical wisdom. The same assistant from before is in front, efficiently guiding the flock. Hyeju sees them approaching her wall, and her mouth instantly goes dry. The assistant begins explaining the series’ theme. “The port as a hand reaching across the ocean…”

Hyeju smiles at everyone, trying to appear friendly, interesting, accessible. She barely hears the words, lost in growing nerves. But then… she sees him. The last person in the group, hanging slightly behind the others. An unreadable expression, with a gaze that seems to measure the worth of everything in the room—including her.

It’s you.

She trembles slightly as she shakes your hand, and the moment your fingers touch: Hyeju knows. It’s you the critic.

Great. Of course, it’s you.

But would you… nah, impossible. Completely impossible.

It was years ago.

Hyeju wasn’t anyone in the photography world then.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” you say, in a gentle yet distant tone, almost too professional.

“Nice to meet you too, I am Hyeju,” she replies, trying to sound steady, but her voice falters slightly at the end.

"Yeah, I know."

You’re there, standing before Hyeju’s photos, pacing like an inspector evaluating construction work—only here, what’s being judged isn’t a building but someone’s soul. Each photo on the wall seems to scream in silence, as if trying to convince you of its importance, of its worth.

But you’re in no hurry.

You never are.

The first photo shows a gigantic crane, its mechanical arm hovering over containers like a titan ready to devour the world. The overcast sky in the background gives a sense of melancholy, of an industrial late afternoon, and there’s something intriguing in the way the black-and-white contrasts highlight the weight of the scene. Not bad.

You take two more steps, looking at the next image: a worker, face covered in sweat, calloused hands gripping a rope. The detail in his face is impressive, each worry line drawn with precision. The guy looks like he’s contemplating every economic crisis of the last century all at once.

Points for drama.

And then, of course, Hyeju tries to make small talk. Like they all do. As if conversation could save a photo that can’t defend itself.

“I chose black and white because I think it brings a kind of… timelessness, you know? Something that transcends the digital era we live in. Color can sometimes distract from the real meaning. I wanted the shadows to be… the main narrative.”

“Hmm.” You don’t look up, your eyes fixed on a third photo, an aerial shot of the port. The docks, packed with stacked containers, resemble a game of Tetris gone incredibly wrong. Thousands of boxes, ready to carry the anxieties of an entire world. “Transcendence, huh?... Got it.”

She watches you, uneasy, as you use your iPad, seemingly indifferent to her tense existence. Hyeju has that glimmer in her eyes all young artists have—a mixture of desperation to be seen and the faint arrogance of someone who thinks they’ve discovered something others missed. You’ve seen it so many times you could give lectures on the subject.

She continues nervously. “I know your work, by the way. I really admire your series, especially the one you did on the desert. The way you capture emptiness…”

“Oh, really?” Another note on the iPad.

“Yes! Actually, it was one of the biggest inspirations for this project. The way you captured emptiness, solitude… it was, honestly, brilliant.”

You finally look up, but not at her. At another photo. “Interesting.”

Hyeju clings to the chance to extend the conversation, like someone fallen overboard reaching for a piece of driftwood. “I really admire how you can convey so much with so little. I mean, the desert is literally… nothing. And yet, you make emptiness feel full of meaning. I tried to do something similar with the port, you know? A place of transition, of constant flux, but full of invisible stories.”

“Hmm.” Another silence. You step back, observing the photos with a clinical eye, as if trying to determine if the thread holding the world together is hidden somewhere within them.

“That’s why I wanted to focus on the workers,” she continues, clearly desperate to keep the contact. “They’re like… the gears no one sees. Without them, nothing would work. They move the world, but they’re always in the shadows.”

“Yes, yes, shadows. Fascinating.” You type something more into the iPad, your fingers moving across the screen as if her words carried tons and you were determined to move them quickly. “It’s interesting how black and white can create this illusion of depth. Or it can simply look… dated."

She blinks. “Dated?”

“Hmm, yes. Depending on the intent, of course.” Your eyes are back on the iPad. “But many photographers turn to black and white when they want things to seem deeper than they are. You know, to give that air of seriousness. It doesn’t always work.”

Hyeju laughs nervously. “Yeah, of course. I wanted it to have that seriousness, but also… you know, without being pretentious.”

“And isn’t that everyone’s aim?”

And that’s it. A rhetorical question that falls like a stone into a quiet pond. Hyeju looks at you, hoping for a more elaborate reaction, some sign that you really grasped the depth she wanted to convey, but all you offer is silence as you study the final images of her series.

Finally, you turn to the assistant. “Shall we?” you ask with the calm of someone who’s already made up their mind long before the end of the exhibit.

She gives a brief nod, confirming. "Yes. Let's move on to the next exhibits."

You pause, and then, as if it were just a minor detail, add, "Afterward, I'll speak with you privately, Miss Hyeju."

The group begins to move, but Hyeju lingers, feeling as though she's been left hanging, your words hovering in the air without resolution. She watches you walk away, the iPad still in your hand, typing something that could very well determine the fate of her work. But what unsettles her most is the way you treated her, and something about your distant posture makes her wonder if you know anything.

—

The gallery is noisier now. Artists, finally free from the duty of guarding their works, gather in small groups, praising each other with enthusiasm that ranges from genuine to visibly forced. Glasses of champagne are raised in toasts barely disguised as self-affirmations, and the hum of voices fills the space, echoing off the high ceiling.

Hyeju, however, doesn’t join in. She remains near the wall, watching from a distance as you, surrounded by journalists, finish evaluating the last of the exhibits. Her hands are clasped tightly, nervousness etched into each small movement. Her eyes track your every motion, trying to read the verdict that awaits.

From afar, she witnesses the first decisive moment. An older photographer, whose work felt like an ode to glorified boredom, receives a hug from you, smiling with a relief that only someone who’s faced countless failures can mask. Further ahead, a young woman with an eccentric look shakes your hand, her eyes sparkling with joy.

But not everyone is so fortunate. Some walk away from you with mixed expressions, caught between polite disappointment and the certainty that their work simply wasn’t understood. The more courteous ones offer faint smiles—the kind that are more social reflex than genuine feeling. Hyeju recognizes the tension even from afar. But when you finally start walking toward her, the anticipation becomes suffocating. Each of your steps seems to echo across the gallery like a solemn march, and Hyeju feels time slowing down.

You stop in front of her, a slight, formal smile on your face. It’s a smile she’s seen so many times that night it might as well be part of your uniform.

"Hyeju." Your voice is soft, almost cordial. "I liked your theme."

The words strike like an electric shock. For a moment, her world comes into focus. She smiles, surprised and, for a second, relieved. Maybe all that anxiety was for nothing.

"Thank you," she says, her voice trembling with barely-contained emotion.

You tilt your head slightly, as if acknowledging a job well done. But then, you continue, in that calm tone that only serves to prepare the ground for the fall. "However, I have to be honest... As I said, the theme you chose is already dated."

The word dated hangs in the air for a few seconds, like a blade poised to drop. Hyeju's smile falters.

"What do you mean... dated?" she asks, hope clearly trying to cling to something.

"Well, the port, the workers, industrialization... this idea was novel and revolutionary, let’s say, in the days of... the industrial revolution." You pause, looking at the photos on the wall as if re-evaluating the work for a moment. "Today, it doesn’t impact the audience the same way. It’s almost like you’re trying to remind us of something we all already know. In other words, the obvious."

Hyeju swallows hard, her mind beginning to race faster than she can handle. "But the point was precisely to show how these things are invisible today. People ignore what goes on behind the goods they consume, as if everything just magically appears on store shelves and—"

You raise a hand, cutting her off politely. "Of course, of course. But the problem is, in trying to revive this concept, you end up reaffirming what's already established. There’s no novelty, you see? The port as a symbol of global flow… it’s been debated to exhaustion. The challenge is finding a new perspective on the obvious, and, unfortunately, your exhibit got stuck in trying to remind the audience of something they’re already tired of hearing."

Hyeju blinks, stunned. "But… the black and white, the aesthetic I used… I wanted to convey a sense of timelessness, as if these figures were almost ghosts, invisibly moving the world…”

"Yes, timelessness." You nod, and the formal smile reappears, almost paternalistic. "The problem is, timelessness can also look like unintentional nostalgia. And, in the end, the modern audience wants something that speaks to the present, something that challenges them. We can’t just revisit the past expecting the same impact."

She tries, desperately, to find a loophole. "But… and the contrast? The shadows, the workers… I wanted it to be a reflection of the gears that drive the world, even today. Isn’t that relevant?"

You sigh, a bit more impatient now. "Look, the concept is good. I’m not saying it isn’t. It’s just that your execution felt… too predictable. Of course, you have a very competent technical eye, and your photos are good, but it lacks that element of… surprise, of innovation." You look at her directly, your patience waning. "It’s the kind of work we’ve seen many times before, understand?"

"But I can improve!" Hyeju insists, her voice a little louder than she intended. She seems on the brink of collapse, trying to cling to what little hope remains. "I know I can. If you’d just give me a chance to revise—"

"Look, Hyeju," you interrupt her, this time with a slightly firmer tone, tired of the discussion. "I really appreciate your passion. That’s great. But the decision has been made. Try again next year. Maybe with a different perspective."

There’s a long pause. Hyeju looks at you as if waiting for you to reveal that this was all an elaborate joke, that she’d actually won. But you say nothing of the sort. You simply extend your hand, ending the conversation with a smile that seems to say you did your best, but it wasn’t enough.

She shakes your hand, her grip firm, masking what she feels inside. As you walk away toward the next artist, Hyeju stands there alone, trying to grasp how, even with all her effort, it all ended like this: dated, predictable, insufficient.

But soon, that feeling of disbelief gives way to a growing rage, building in her chest like a volcano ready to erupt. Heat rises up her throat, making her face flush with anger, her hands clenched so tight her nails are nearly digging into her skin. Months of her life dedicated to that project. Endless visits to the port, earning the workers' trust, listening to their real stories, their calloused hands more genuine than any pretty, empty magazine spread. And now? Thrown in the trash. All because her theme was dated?

She’s not going to accept this. She can’t.

You’re heading toward Miyeon’s exhibit, and Hyeju, still fuming, decides to follow you. She already knows Miyeon is a fraud; the rich girl who travels the world and thinks snapping photos with her luxury camera is some kind of artistic statement. Pathetic. Hyeju’s sure you’ll see through it too. So, she waits, hides behind a column, and listens, her body still trembling with anger but with a hint of expectation. You’re going to tear her down too; it can’t be any other way.

"Miyeon, I really liked your theme."

Hyeju barely holds back a bitter laugh. Of course, liked the theme. You say that to everyone; it’s the prelude before you destroy them. She crosses her arms, waiting for the blow.

You continue, your voice sounding... more animated? Lighter?

"The flowers in the urban landscape, this attempt to create small pockets of nature in a space dominated by concrete, by modern life… it’s a powerful metaphor."

Hyeju raises an eyebrow. Powerful metaphor? Flowers?

Miyeon, always with that doll-like expression, smiles as if she’s about to receive a cherished jewel. "Oh, thank you! I wanted to show how, even in places where everything seems artificial, nature still finds a way to exist, to bloom."

"Yes, yes!" you respond, your voice clearly animated. "The idea that these flowers represent a little hope, a breath of life amidst the chaos of cities… it’s really touching. The audience is going to connect deeply with this vision; you managed to bring a softness that contrasts with the brutality of the environment."

Hyeju feels her stomach twist. She can’t believe what she’s hearing.

You go on, pointing to one of Miyeon’s photos: a lone flower growing from a crack in the pavement in Paris. "Look, here. This flower shouldn’t even exist, and yet, there it is, asserting its presence against all odds. It’s an image of resilience."

Miyeon sighs, almost enchanted by her own work. "Yeah, exactly! I wanted each photo to feel like... renewal, you know? That nature, no matter how small, always finds a way."

Hyeju, squirming behind the column, almost laughs. "Renewal?" Miyeon must have just passed by and thought, "Oh, this flower is cute, I’ll take a picture," without understanding anything about what it means to fight for something

But what disgusts her most is your next comment. “You did a wonderful job, Miyeon. Your photos truly captured that sensitivity. It’s one of the most unique approaches I’ve seen in this contest.”

Miyeon lights up like a Christmas tree. “Wow, I don’t even know what to say!”

And then, the bombshell.

“Well, I’m telling you—you’re one of the winners.”

Hyeju nearly chokes on air.

She… won? Idiotic flowers won?

Miyeon, of course, explodes with joy, throwing her arms around you like you just handed her the universe’s biggest gift. “Oh my God! Really? That’s incredible! Thank you so much!”

“You deserve it, Miyeon. I was really moved by how you found beauty in those small moments. And, you know,” you lower your voice, almost… casually, “I’d like to learn more about your creative process. What do you say to dinner tomorrow to celebrate your victory?”

Miyeon blinks, clearly charmed. “Oh, I’d love to! Wow, that would be amazing. You know, I’ve always wanted to learn more about what inspires you. Your work is so… deep.”

You smile, looking perfectly at ease. “Well, I try. And I must say, you look fantastic today. That outfit… elegant, yet simple. Really suits your style.”

Miyeon blushes slightly but takes the compliment easily. “Thank you! And, ah… you’re even more charming in person.”

Behind the pillar, Hyeju feels her pulse pounding. Each word feels like a slow, cruel stab. She was sure her defeat was already a massive injustice, but this… this is outrageous.

You keep chatting with Miyeon, now totally at ease, a brutal contrast to the coldness you offered Hyeju. She realizes, in that moment, what really happened here. He's a perverted son of a bitch. And Miyeon, with all her art girl pretense, is just another pretty fish he wants to hook and take to bed.

She can barely breathe, her anger suffocating.

Miyeon leaves, already brimming with plans for the dinner, and you follow, smiling just as brightly. Hyeju, however, takes a deep breath, trying to rein in the overwhelming fury overtaking her.

—

Hyeju looks at herself in the mirror, her reflection blurred by tears dragging away any dignity her makeup still held. The flawless eyeliner she spent so long perfecting now looks like a bad abstract painting. She dabs a tissue over her face, trying to erase the tear stains, but only makes it worse, smudging everything. Frustrated, she mutters to herself, too lost in her own ruin to notice the bathroom door opening.

She freezes, turning her back, trying to gather what little composure she has left.

“Oh, Hyeju! Hey, isn’t today amazing?”

Miyeon, of course.

Her sweet voice floats through the restroom like a sickeningly sweet perfume. Hyeju mumbles something unintelligible, anything to mask the sensation of being shattered.

Miyeon, radiant as always, places her bag and phone on the counter before going into one of the stalls. The metallic sound of the lock echoes louder than it should, which could mean something symbolic if this were a movie. Hyeju takes a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, and walks over to the trash to throw away the stained tissue.

And then, she sees it.

Miyeon’s phone screen is unlocked, and Hyeju, despite herself, feels her gaze drawn to it like a magnet. Curiosity is a treacherous thing. She takes a step, then another. Just a little peek. She’s not really invading privacy, just… checking something that was already open.

And there you are. Your name at the top of her Instagram chat, with a thread of messages that makes Hyeju want to vomit in pure disgust. A time, an expensive restaurant, the promise of a dinner to celebrate Miyeon’s “big win.”

The stall flushes like an alarm. Hyeju jumps back, quickly distancing herself from the phone. She pulls herself together, struggling to control the torrent of emotions as Miyeon emerges.

The human doll opens the door with a casual smile, washing her hands while tossing compliments into the air. “Your photos, Hyeju, were so beautiful. Really, you captured the essence of the port workers in a way that was very… how should I say… real.”

Hyeju simply nods. “By the way, congratulations on your win, Miyeon. You deserved it.”

Miyeon dries her hands and finally looks at her, noticing Hyeju’s devastated state. The swollen eyes, the makeup entirely ruined. She tilts her head slightly, in an almost childlike gesture, and asks, “What happened? Are you… okay?”

Hyeju takes a deep breath, trying not to sound like she’s on the verge of a total breakdown. “It’s… nothing. Just… frustration, I think.”

Miyeon’s expression softens, as if dealing with a wounded child. “Oh, you’re sad you didn’t win, huh? I get it, it’s hard. But don’t be like that. There are so many opportunities left to show your talent.”

Hyeju wants to roll her eyes but holds back. Opportunities? This coming from Miyeon sounds like a bad joke. But before she can respond, Miyeon, ever helpful, opens her purse and pulls out a makeup kit. “Here, let me fix that for you.”

Before Hyeju can protest, Miyeon is already holding a brush, touching up the mascara smudges with efficiency that only irritates her more. “You’re so talented, you know? Your work has a depth that few have. Just need a little more luck, maybe? It’ll work out, you’ll see.”

Miyeon’s sweet, condescending tone feels like a silent scream to Hyeju. She can hear the fake sympathy behind the words, the barely hidden superiority of someone who’s never had to struggle for anything. Every brushstroke is a painful reminder of how absurdly far she is from Miyeon’s privileged world.

“All done,” Miyeon says, stepping back to admire her work. Hyeju looks at herself in the mirror. There she is, a sad, generic version of Miyeon. Even with the makeup fixed, she’s still just a shadow. “Looks better, right?”

Hyeju mumbles a “thank you,” but something in Miyeon’s sweet tone makes her want to scream.

Miyeon smiles, satisfied, and puts the kit back in her bag. “Well, see you around, okay? Don’t get discouraged, all right? You’ll get there.”

With a wave goodbye, Miyeon floats out of the restroom like she’s on a cloud.

Hyeju stands there, staring at the mirror. The makeup is flawless, but she doesn’t recognize herself. Only one thought passes through her mind in that moment as the heat of her rage boils beneath the surface:

This isn’t over.

—

Hyeju sits at an outdoor table, the evening breeze ruffling the menu in her hands. The restaurant, one of those gourmet traps with plates priced higher than any decent meal should be, offers a spectacular view of the city, the urban lights twinkling below like stars trapped in concrete. Exactly the type of place you’d choose to impress a girl like Miyeon. She’s not there to eat, of course, but she orders a glass of wine, something to keep up appearances.

Time passes slowly, and Hyeju watches as Miyeon arrives. She sits nearby, but with her back to Hyeju, making the plan even easier. Hyeju can barely contain a smile as she hides behind the menu, her eyes keenly watching the pampered, spoiled girl’s every move. Miyeon makes a quick call—obviously to you.

“Oh, of course, always late,” Miyeon sighs, her melodic voice tinged with slight annoyance. “It’s fine, I’ll wait for you. I’m at one of the outdoor tables, remember?”

Hyeju wonders if the lateness is part of the charm, like a cheap trick to make a grand entrance. Always the diva. She sighs. Nothing worth having ever shows up on time.

Miyeon continues to scroll on her phone, seemingly indifferent to the world around her, but Hyeju is on high alert. She lowers the menu just enough to peek, keeping herself discreetly hidden, especially now that a couple sits nearby, offering a bit more cover. She flinches as she hears your voice in the distance.

Finally, you arrive.

“Sorry I’m late,” you say with a smile that should be banned for public safety. And then, of course, a kiss on the cheek. A casual gesture, but enough to make Hyeju’s blood rise. “You know I’m naturally unpunctual,” you add, sitting down with the confidence of someone who’s sure the world revolves around them.

“Yeah, but I’m getting used to it,” Miyeon replies with a light laugh.

—

The conversation flows with a lightness that almost makes Hyeju shrink with discomfort. The two of you laugh at silly jokes, and the flirting... the flirting is ridiculously cringeworthy from a third-person perspective.

She also concluded that what you and Miyeon had for dinner was bad and ridiculously expensive (even without any real evidence).

"So," you say after a few glasses of wine, "I was really impressed with your work, Miyeon. It has a rare sensitivity, you know? The way you captured the delicacy of flowers in the urban environment... so poetic."

The only thing poetic about Miyeon is her endless privilege, which she doesn’t even know she has. Hyeju discreetly takes out her phone, pretending to be uninterested but already positioning the camera.

“Oh, thank you!” Miyeon replies, blushing in a way that seems rehearsed. “I really wanted someone to understand that, you know? You really summed up the essence of what I wanted to convey.”

Captured the essence… Hyeju practically screams internally. If that photo series had any more essence, it would become a perfume. She tilts her phone to a better angle and starts snapping discreet photos. Tiny clicks that get lost in the hum of the restaurant.

The two of you order dinner and keep talking, each word a dagger to Hyeju’s pride.

"By the way, you look stunning tonight," you say casually, and Miyeon smiles, lowering her gaze like a princess in a cheap fairy tale.

"Oh, thank you! And I have to say, you're so handsome. Well, I already knew because of the photos and interviews of yours that I watched, but when I saw you in person yesterday, wow..." Miyeon responds, throwing back the compliment like a golden frisbee.

Meanwhile, Hyeju continues to document it all, like a private investigator who decided ethics are optional. Every shared smile, every tilt of the body, every not-so-innocent wink. She watches the story unfold before her, barely containing her disgust.

This will be beautiful.

—

The night goes on with you and Miyeon in a dialogue that, to Hyeju, might as well be nails scraping a chalkboard. Sitting at a distance, she keeps her eyes on you, wondering for the thousandth time how the universe could be so cruel. It’s not like she wants to be in Miyeon’s place—of course not—but if you had to hit on someone, it could’ve at least been her.

At least her work was good.

"So, what's the secret?" you ask with a charming smile, leaning forward slightly, your voice low and intimate. "How does someone like you, so young and talented, manage to capture these... hmm... deep layers of meaning in your photos?"

Miyeon giggles, a sound that reminds Hyeju of coins clinking in a deep well. "Oh, you're flattering me! I don’t know if it’s all that. I just... observe the world, you know? Try to see what no one else sees." She gives a small sigh of exaggerated modesty, which makes Hyeju roll her eyes. What no one else sees? Is she kidding? Flowers on the streets? Everyone sees that.

Literally everyone.

You don’t back down, your attention fixed on every word from Miyeon as if she were the center of the world. “Humility... I love that in an artist. So many people out there are just pretentious. I already knew you were special just from looking at your photos, but now… well, I can see you’re as impressive as your work.”

Impressive? Hyeju nearly chokes on her wine, forcing herself to keep a neutral expression.

You’re practically drooling over Miyeon.

"Oh, you're very kind," Miyeon replies, blushing again. "I... I just try to do my part, you know? Show the world the beauty that's hidden. That people forget to notice. And I have to say, having your recognition is... well, it’s rewarding."

You smile and, without missing a beat, reach over to touch her arm lightly. "You know, Miyeon, I have to be honest... when I saw your work, I felt something I rarely feel. Like the photos were speaking to me, saying something I didn’t know I needed to hear."

Hyeju squirms in her seat. Speaking to you? About what exactly? 'Buy a flower vase'? 'Do urban gardening'?

Her work had explored the depth of human transience and the flow of life, while you let yourself be captivated by flowers and a rehearsed smile.

She bites her lip, growing anger as she thinks: If you had to pick a contestant to hook up with, you could at least have chosen someone with a decent series. Like mine. At least it would look like a fair and professional decision. Am I not attractive enough? Or maybe I just don’t have that... doll-like quality you seem to like?

You lean over the table again. “You know, Miyeon, I have to admit... I don’t usually feel this way at professional events. Honestly, I think I’ve lost patience with a lot of pretentious photographers. But you... you’re different.”

Miyeon pretends to be modest, covering her mouth with her hand as if she’s shy. “Oh, I just do what I love. Maybe that’s what makes me... different.”

Hyeju narrows her eyes. Different? Only if we’re talking about her bank account.

"Well," you continue, your tone softer, as if you were just chatting with a close friend. "I don’t know... there’s something about you. Your lightness. The way you see the world, through the lens and, of course, in person." You smile, clearly implying something deeper. "I’d love to see more of that."

Miyeon smiles sweetly, as if she doesn’t understand the double meaning that anyone within ten feet could catch. "I’d love to show you more of my work. I think there’s a lot we could share, not just as artists but as people."

Oh, wonderful, Hyeju thinks, holding her phone strategically, ready to capture the perfect moment. She almost feels her camera in her hands again, anger sharpening her focus in a twisted way. She wonders again why you chose Miyeon. What does she have that I don’t? Does this fool just like girls who look like dolls? Or is he afraid of a woman who won’t fall for this fake charm?

"This is perfect, Miyeon," you say, your voice sweet enough to sugar-coat a lemon. "By the way, I was thinking... we could continue this evening somewhere a bit more... peaceful." You lean a bit more over the table, your fingers sliding casually along the rim of her wine glass. "My hotel has an amazing view of the city at night. It would be a crime not to enjoy it."

Miyeon giggles, and Hyeju feels it’s the kind of giggle only someone completely clueless could give. “Oh, that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? But... I have to go to that birthday party afterward,” she says, making that practiced pout again, like she’s breaking the heart of a poor little puppy. “From that friend of mine, remember? It’d be rude not to show up. I need to be there in less than an hour.”

“Oh, such a shame... I thought there’d be time...” Your tone is so forcedly disappointed that it almost sounds ironic. “You know, I’m leaving tomorrow. Who knows when we’ll get another chance to... enjoy the moment. It would be a pity to waste this night.”

Miyeon holds your hand with almost unbearable sweetness, leaning a little closer. “Oh, don’t worry,” she says, her eyes shining like she’s just made a solemn promise. “We’ll see each other again, for sure. And next time, no parties to interrupt.”

"I’ll hold you to that promise."

“You can count on it.”

Hyeju, until then lost in her thoughts of revolt and frustration, almost misses the moment. No way… Are they leaning in for a kiss? Her phone camera is already ready, and Hyeju quickly adjusts the focus. She almost fumbles but, at the last second, manages to capture the exact moment your lips meet. Bingo.

The kiss is brief, almost innocent, but enough for Hyeju to get what she needed. The final nail in the coffin of your reputation, or at least that’s what she hopes. She feels a wave of cold triumph wash over her. Now she had proof. Proof that you chose Miyeon not for her art, not for photographic genius (which was absurd enough), but simply because you were interested in her for... less artistic reasons, to say the least.

Miyeon pulls back with a rehearsed smile. “So we stay in touch?” she asks, already turning her attention back to her phone as if nothing important had happened.

“Yeah, sure. See you, Miyeon,” you say, your tone warm, but with a barely concealed note of frustration. “And I hope it’s soon.”

"Bye honey, thanks for this wonderful night."

Miyeon gets up, grabs her purse, tosses her hair back, and leaves the restaurant as if she’s walking off a runway. Hyeju watches her every step, feeling a strange mix of disdain and envy.

And there you are, still seated, momentarily lost in the direction Miyeon went, until you eventually come back to reality, calling a waiter to ask for the bill. And Hyeju, in that moment, knows she has the perfect weapon in her hands. A picture is worth a thousand words.

Revenge won’t just be sweet... it’ll be public.

You swipe your credit card, and as you wait for the receipt, your gaze lands on something interesting. Comical, really. There, sitting near you, hidden between two tables, is a woman trying to cover her face with the menu—a move worthy of someone trying to blend in like a plant in the middle of a desert. A mysterious woman, let’s call her that. You remember seeing her when you arrived; she’s been sitting there for quite a while without ordering anything, judging by the pristine table. You chuckle softly, intrigued by this peculiar figure.

Who acts like they're in a comedy film?

Maybe it’s the wine or perhaps the high that success brings, but you decide you have to find out what’s going on here. After taking the receipt, you stand up and approach her table. She hasn’t seen you, or maybe she’s pretending not to. Doesn’t matter. You throw yourself into the seat across from her with the confidence of someone who thinks the world revolves around them—because, let’s face it, for you, it does.

“Good evening,” you say in a casual tone, as if invading someone’s space were a natural extension of your personality. “Are you alone?”

She lowers the menu just enough to reveal her eyes, which are, incidentally, quite striking and sharp. But her expression shows the reluctance of someone who knows they’re about to enter a situation they don’t want but have no way out of. “No,” she replies, firm but a bit hesitant. “I’m waiting for someone.”

You smirk, a mix of mockery and sympathy, as if you’ve just heard the world’s lamest excuse, yet you’re willing to play along. “Ah, of course. Waiting for someone. Because, you know, I’ve seen you here alone for... what? An hour? I think, whoever this person is, they’re not showing up. Happens.” You sigh dramatically. “I know the type. Busy people, missed connections... But you know what’s worse? Being alone on such a lovely night.”

She looks at you as if you’ve just claimed the sky is purple. “I’m not alone,” she repeats, her voice sharpening. “My boyfriend is on his way.”

You raise an eyebrow, visibly interested. “Boyfriend, huh? Well, if he’s kept you waiting this long... maybe he’s not as interested as he should be.” You lean slightly forward, a faintly mocking smile on your face. “But if he doesn’t show, I could keep you company. I’m told I’m an excellent conversationalist.”

She gives you a look that suggests she’d rather have coffee with the Devil. “No, thank you. I saw you with a girl just now. Isn’t one enough, Mr. Meddler?”

You chuckle, as if she’d just accused you of a minor, harmless offense. “Ah, that lovely woman? Just a friend. Work-related, you know how it is. We just went out to celebrate her win in a contest she entered. Entirely professional.”

The way you say “professional” suggests the exact opposite, but she doesn’t comment, still skeptical.

“Can I know why you’re hiding your face like that? I’d love to see more than just those pretty eyes.”

“I’m shy,” she replies abruptly, trying to cut the conversation short. “Besides, when my boyfriend arrives, he won’t like to see you here.”

You raise your hands in an exaggerated surrender gesture, though the smile remains. “Alright, got it. I don’t want to cause any problems, especially with possessive boyfriends. It just seemed like you might have been... lonely, perhaps? But alright. Lucky you that he’s on his way, then. Hope you both have a magical evening.” You get up slowly, still keeping your eyes on her, clearly trying to decipher the enigma that is this woman with her face hidden.

As you walk away, Hyeju lets out a deep sigh, as if she’d just escaped a scene from a bad spy movie. That was too close, she thinks, her heart still racing.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have hidden,” she whispers to herself as a waiter approaches, still wearing that polite—and slightly irritated—smile he’d shown before.

“Ma’am, would you like to order something now?”

She forces a smile, though it’s obvious her appetite vanished long ago. “I... lost my appetite. Just the bill, please.”

The waiter walks away, and Hyeju remains there, looking at her reflection in the restaurant window, trying to understand how her day, which was supposed to be glorious, led her to this point.

“Well, since I won't be able to sleep tonight, then neither will he.”

—

You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth with more force than necessary, as if trying to scrub away the bitter taste of the evening. Miyeon is gorgeous, but empty, you conclude. It wouldn’t be the first time you regretted being led by your eyes instead of your head. After all, sleeping with her would’ve just been a tedious side note in your record of bad decisions. You finish, splash water on your face, and are about to settle into bed when a distinctive knock on the door interrupts your thoughts.

“Who the hell...?” You grumble, frowning. It’s late, and you weren’t expecting anyone.

You head to the door, ready to send away whoever’s disturbing you.

But what you see makes you hesitate. Standing at your door is Hyeju, eyes blazing with a fury you hadn’t seen before. Before you can process it, she storms into the room with the grace of a storm about to break.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You shut the door, stunned, as she strides in without so much as a glance, her presence filling the room faster than you can comprehend it.

“You’re fucked,” Hyeju declares.

You turn, confusion turning to indignation.

“How did you even get in here?” you demand, voice rising.

She pauses, as if savoring your disbelief. “Reception,” she begins, as if it were obvious. “I told them I was your assistant and had something urgent to give you before your trip tomorrow. People trust good lies.” She gives a small, humorless smile.

Trip? How the hell does she know you’re leaving tomorrow?

Forget it, doesn’t matter now. You just need to make sure you never stay at this poorly secured hotel again.

Your mouth opens and closes, trying to piece together the absurdity. “Let me guess, you’re here because of the damn magazine, right?”

“Exactly. I demand you put me among the winners.” She crosses her arms, her tone as sharp as a knife.

You laugh, but it’s a harsh, humorless sound. “You’re a sore loser, Hyeju. You lost. Failed. Were defeated. Accept it and stop bothering me.” You step forward, indignation rising within you, but she doesn’t back down.

She laughs, too, but it’s a bitter sound. “Lost? Of course, I lost. Because the brilliant critic was more interested in sleeping with one of the contestants than doing his job.”

The comment hits like a punch, and you freeze for a second. “What?” you stammer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I bet you know exactly what I'm talking about. I saw you two at the restaurant.” She says it with such certainty that a chill runs down your spine. The woman hidden behind the menu... Of course. It makes sense now. “I have proof. Took photos. I was going to expose it publicly, but first, I wanted to see your face... before I ruined your life.”

Your heart pounds, pressure building in your chest. “Proof?” The word barely makes it out of your mouth. Of course, she took photos. And of course, she didn’t just come here to provoke—you’re here to be blackmailed.

“Exactly. And my demand is simple: you remove Miyeon or any other winner and place me there. Though I’d prefer you remove Miyeon, if you don’t mind.”

You try to regain your composure, take a deep breath, and shoot her a scathing look. “You think you can blackmail me like this? I can’t change the results, Hyeju. Even if I wanted to. Besides, why the hell do you think you deserve to win? Besides being a crybaby, you also have a lot of arrogance.”

Hyeju’s grip on your shirt is as sudden as it is forceful. Her fingers curl around the fabric, pulling you closer, and for a moment, you’re so surprised you just freeze. She didn’t just confront you; she dominated you. The proximity is suffocating, and the fury in her eyes brings a sensation you’d never admit: a flash of fear.

“Why didn’t you choose me?” Her voice, low and laced with restrained anger, fills the room. The question isn’t just a demand for an answer; it’s an order. You, the esteemed critic, a giant in your field, feel small for a second.

You try to speak, but your mouth is dry. How did things spiral so far out of control? She pulls you closer, her breath hot against your face, and your heart races, not from fear of what she might physically do, but from her intensity. That intensity burns in a way you find disturbingly thrilling.

"I'm talking to you!" she says, each word leaving her mouth with a fierce heat. "Why did you pick her? The porcelain doll you wanted to take to bed? And why did you leave me out? Because I'm not as 'pretty' as she is? Because I don’t have the shiny veneer of someone who can spend money on stupid trips around the world?"

You feel your shirt tighten against your chest, and though your mind wants to resist, your body… obeys. There’s a pulse of adrenaline you didn’t expect, and for the first time, you genuinely don’t know how to handle this.

“No... that’s not it,” you attempt to protest, but your voice sounds weaker than expected.

"Oh, isn't it?!" Hyeju laughs, but it’s far from amused. "Then explain it to me, acclaimed critic. Why her and not me? Because if your excuse is that my series was outdated, then what was that farce with flowers on concrete? An insult to anyone with half a brain!"

The sarcasm drips from her voice, but you’re more focused on the growing pressure. She pulls you even closer, your faces almost touching, and you feel sweat trickling down your temple, your body tensed between panic and a strange exhilaration. She’s in control, and for the first time in a long time, you’re left without solid ground.

She stares at you with a fierce smile. "So, tell me. Why? What did I do wrong? Oh, let me guess: I’m not some rich doll with a perfectly symmetrical face? Is that it? That I'm not the kind of woman you'd want to take out to dinner and then have sex with?"

You try to regain control, because this is throwing you off balance. You let out a forced laugh, trying to project the confidence that slipped away minutes ago. "It has nothing to do with beauty, Hyeju."

"Oh, no?" She yanks your shirt again, and you stumble forward. "Then why did you pick her? Am I less of an artist because I didn’t give you a seductive glance? Speak up, because that’s exactly how it feels!"

Your body leans forward, practically collapsing under her strength, and for a second you feel the power shift. Her anger is almost tangible, like a force you can feel pressing against you. And you… are at her mercy. Your mind races, but every thought is drawn back to the grip of her hands, to the look in her eyes, a fury that threatens to consume her whole.

You make one last attempt. "You want to know the real reason?" Your voice comes out stronger this time, though still tinged with exhaustion. "Fine, I’ll tell you, you wild thing! I saw that damn tweet of yours."

Hyeju pauses, her grip loosening slightly, eyes narrowing. "Tweet...? What tweet?"

You finally exhale, your chest expanding with momentary relief, but the tension remains. "The one you posted years ago. Calling me a narcissist, arrogant, wedding photographer, saying I had no talent. Conveniently on the same day I won a big award. Remember that? Yeah, I saw it. And yes, I knew it was aimed at me."

She falters, surprised. The intensity is still there, but for a second, you see a flicker of doubt in those previously blazing eyes. "That… that was years ago." Her voice is lower now, almost unsure. "I was just a dumb teenager. I didn’t even know your work properly."

You take a step forward this time, the balance of power shifting again. "I don’t care, Hyeju. You think you can say whatever online and, years later, cozy up to me when you need something? Not to mention this sailor-level crudeness of yours, barging into my room trying to intimidate me. You’re a fake artist. And you know what? This is what you deserve. You’ve already lost. And if you don’t leave now, I swear I’ll ruin your career before it even begins."

She hesitates, biting her lip, her eyes darting toward the door. But the anger is still there, bubbling beneath the surface. "Oh, that’s it? You think you scare me?" she mutters, but her tone wavers a bit. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play it, then goodbye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She turns on her heels and heads toward the door.

You take a deep breath, thinking the worst is over, but then the memory of the photos hits you. You move quickly, locking the door, and Hyeju, surprised, takes a step back.

"Not so fast," you say, your tone laced with a new kind of certainty.

She hasn’t finished with you, but you aren’t done with her, either.

Hyeju raises an eyebrow, suspicious. She crosses her arms and looks at you as if she’s seen it all. The air between you isn’t exactly cold; it’s more like that stifling heat before a storm.

“Look,” you start, adjusting your collar as if that might ease your discomfort. “Maybe we started off on the wrong foot, really wrong. How about we try doing this right? Something positive, something that’s mutually beneficial.”

Hyeju narrows her eyes, unimpressed. “I’m not interested in anything other than you pulling Miyeon from the winners and putting me in her place.”

“I can’t do that. You know that. If I backtrack now, what would be left of my reputation? As a critic, I can’t afford to look... indecisive or, worse, corrupt.”

She laughs, but it’s not a pleasant one. It’s the kind that says you got yourself into this mess. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before deciding to screw me over.”

You swallow, feeling the blow, but you persist. “I... I was immature, Hyeju. Honestly. When I saw that tweet... I don’t know, it hit me in a way I didn’t expect. It was stupid of me to hold onto it and let my bruised ego guide my decision. It wasn’t professional, and I know that.”

Hyeju seems surprised but tries to hide it. Her anger, which was so visibly intense before, seems to give way to an internal conflict.

"So it was all because of a tweet?" She lets out a disbelieving sigh. "A tweet? That was years ago! It was just a quick jab. I was frustrated at the time; nothing was going right in my life. Seeing someone around my age achieving so much… I didn’t really mean those things.”

“I get that. And I should’ve realized it. But I couldn’t. I was childish, let my pride get in the way, and ended up… I made a big mistake. And you didn’t deserve that.”

Hyeju hesitates, the words lingering in the air as she decides whether to forgive you. “And I... I don’t see things that way anymore. I criticized you before really understanding your work. What I said—or rather, tweeted—was shallow. I changed my opinion after, started admiring your work and being inspired by it. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t even be here. So... I’m sorry.”

She seems to swallow her words with difficulty, but there’s something genuine in the apology. You see it, and something in you softens.

“I’m sorry too,” you say, your voice lower, less defensive. “For the way I treated you. I could’ve been fair, but I let something petty from the past cloud my judgment. Now, I can’t just undo it all. But I can admit your work is excellent. You deserved more.”

Hyeju turns her face, looking out the window, contemplating her next words.

“Alright... so... what do you suggest?”

You take a step forward, seizing the small opening. “I suggest we do something together. A project, a collaboration. Something that shows your talent, without needing any favoritism, where nobody loses. A chance to prove you’re far more than just a frustrated competitor.”

Hyeju looks at you, her head tilted. She’s processing, considering the offer. “And how do I know you won’t screw me over again?”

You smile, tired but sincere. “Because, honestly, I don’t want to screw you over. I did it once and… frankly, it didn’t do me any good. I want to make things right.”

She shakes her head slowly, as if the idea is taking shape in her mind. “Okay. Okay, fine. But don’t think that makes you a saint. I still think you acted like an ass because of a tweet.”

You laugh, a light laugh, almost relieved. “I was. No doubt about it. A total ass. But one who now wants to make things right.”

Hyeju finally sighs, as if accepting that there’s nothing left to do but move forward. “Alright then. Let’s see where this goes.”

The atmosphere in the room starts to relax. You feel the tension drain away slowly.

“And, just for the record,” she says with a wry grin, “Miyeon’s series? Horrible. A disaster. You need to admit it."

You laugh. “You have no idea the sacrifice. I nearly drowned in metaphors trying to explain to journalists that it was at least acceptable.”

“Acceptable? For that series to be called bad, it still has a long way to go!”

“You’re tough with your critiques—I respect that,” you say. “Now, since there’s no more conflict, how about you be a good girl and delete those photos?” you add with a wink.

You watch as Hyeju reaches into her bag for her phone, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. She scrolls through her gallery until she lands on the shots she took of you and Miyeon, that innocent kiss in the restaurant now preserved in pixels. And when she turns the screen toward you, the sight of those images suddenly makes you painfully aware of your own foolishness.

“So, what do you think?” Hyeju teases, her tone laced with the knowledge that she has the upper hand. “Should I take up your collaboration offer, or… let these photos go public? It’d make for a juicy career-ending scandal, wouldn’t you say? The photography prodigy, brought down by a cheap affair.”

You laugh nervously, mostly because that’s what’s expected. Inside, your brain is already calculating the damage. “Alright, alright… Hyeju, let's not act on impulse...”

She shrugs, clearly enjoying your discomfort, then taps the screen and deletes the photos with a theatrical gesture. “Relax. I just wanted to see you sweat a little. Poetic justice, you know?”

You blink, caught off guard, unsure if you should feel relieved or resentful. “You really enjoy playing with fire, don’t you?”

“If you knew me, you’d know I do it all the time.” She slips her phone back into her bag, glancing around the room like she’s already bored. “Guess that’s that. I’ll be going, then.”

Something about her words gnaws at you more than it should. Almost on impulse, you reach out and grab her wrist. “Wait. Stay.”

She looks at you, half wary, half confused. “What are you doing?”

You chuckle softly, as if catching yourself in a slip. “I’d like to talk more with you. About… photography, art, whatever. You seem interesting. Now that there’s no drama, there’s no harm in getting to know each other better, right?”

“I still think you’re a jerk, you know.”

“I can live with that.” You smile—that smile that usually softens people up, the one that says, Yes, I’m a jerk, but a lovable one, right?

She hesitates, her gaze wandering to the mirror across the room. The reflection shows someone who clearly put effort into looking their best: the elegant dress, the perfect hair, all planned for an occasion that now feels like a waste of effort.

“Fine,” she finally replies, with a kind of resigned reluctance. “But only because I’m already here.”

You stand up, victory masked on your face, and head to the mini-fridge. Grabbing two beers, you gesture vaguely toward the bed. “Have a seat. I don’t bite… unless you ask, of course.”

She sits on the edge of the bed, still upright, as if ready to leave at any moment. You open one of the bottles and hand it to her as you sit beside her with your own.

“So,” you begin, taking a sip, “how does a promising photographer and an award-winning jerk end up here after a disastrous evening?”

Hyeju takes a sip, mulling over her answer. “Promising, huh? Look at that, the jerk knows how to recognize talent.”

“I always have,” you shrug, “but sometimes, circumstances… complicate things.”

“Circumstances like… sabotaging me over a grudge and favoring another girl just for a hookup?”

“In my defense she is as beautiful as she is empty, she has a beautiful smile and a lovely laugh… Fuck, you end up liking her…”

“That explains a lot. I knew your choice was questionable, but I didn’t know you had a fetish for wax dolls.”

“Ouch! And impressively accurate.”

Hyeju smirks, a small smile that carries a certain pride. “I’m good with words, as well as photos. Maybe I should consider a career as an art critic?”

“Oh, no, please. We have enough critics as it is. Most of them are bitterer than bad beer.”

She takes another sip, relaxing a bit more. “I don’t have the patience for it. I’d rather be on the other side, creating.”

“I can see it in your photos. They have soul.”

“Trying to impress me?”

“Maybe,” you admit, winking. “Maybe I’m just trying to make up for being a jerk earlier.”

“Keep trying, but it's not like I trust you anyway.”

You feign an offended look, hand dramatically on your chest. “Me? Incredible! Talented! Award-winning! Humble! And you still don’t trust me?”

Hyeju rolls her eyes so hard you almost expect her to get dizzy. “Award-winning? Congratulations on flattering people enough to get awards.”

“First of all, I never flattered anyone to get where I am. And, hey, look who’s talking about flattery,” you retort, taking a sip of beer. “Someone who’s already tried to ruin me with 280 characters and then spent the entire day trying to play nice. What happened to all that digital hostility, sweetheart?”

She leans in a bit, her lips curved into a smile that feels more like a threat. “You want me to be hostile again? Because I can.”

“No hostility,” you respond, smiling with a calm air. “But I’ll admit, I’m enjoying this side of you. Way more interesting than Miyeon.”

“Oh, so you like stressing people out?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “You know… life would be boring without a good argument.”

She takes another sip of beer, like she’s deciding whether or not to keep going with this. “If it weren’t for the tweet,” she starts, in a casual tone, “would you have hit on me instead of Rich Girl Barbie?”

You chuckle, a little surprised by the directness, but not exactly bothered. “Hard to say. You don’t strike me as the type to fall for my usual charm. It would’ve been a challenge.”

“So right now I'm just a challenge to you?” she fires back.

“Hey, hey,” you raise your hands, grinning. “Not at all. But I admit I like someone who keeps me on my toes. Easy people… honestly, they put me to sleep.”

“So you sleep with Miyeon and literally fall asleep right after?” Hyeju shoots back dryly.

You burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. “Well, that’s pretty much what almost happened.”

Hyeju snickers, one of those laughs she tries to pass off as disbelief, but you catch the gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. “You’re pathetic.”

“I know,” you agree cheerfully. “But a charming kind of pathetic, or so they say.”

She shakes her head, smirking. “I don’t know how you can be so cocky and somehow a little likable at the same time.”

“It’s a rare skill,” you reply, leaning back a bit, studying her expressions as if trying to capture every detail. “And you, Hyeju, are very good at being… difficult.”

She meets your gaze, her expression firm. “Difficult? No. I’m just honest.”

“Yes, you say exactly what you think, all the time. And you know what? That’s kind of… refreshing. No one does that.”

“That’s because the world’s full of brown-nosers and idiots,” Hyeju replies, and you realize she genuinely believes that. “I don’t have time for that kind of people. If I think something’s crap, I say it.”

“Like my work,” you say, laughing. “You thought it was crap and tweeted about it.”

She takes a long sip, her eyes never leaving yours. “Exactly. And it wrecked you.”

“Wrecked? Me?” You raise a hand as if making a vow. “I thrive on criticism—it’s my fuel.”

“Didn’t look like it when you ignored me in the exhibition,” she shoots back.

“Maybe,” you admit, smiling. “But, honestly? That tweet was the best backhanded compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

Hyeju tilts her head, intrigued. “And how did you reach that brilliant conclusion?”

“Because you only went after me because you were envious of my accomplishments,” you say, looking straight into her eyes. “And I can assure you, I worked hard to get where I am.”

She pauses, biting her lip as if weighing her thoughts. “Okay, just as I'm honest about offending your work, I'm also honest about stepping back and reconsidering my opinion, so yeah, I admire your art. And maybe a hundred years from now I'll admire you too.”

“Oh, so there’s a chance you’ll change your mind?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” she replies, feigning disinterest. “If you stop being a jerk, I might consider it.”

“Now I have a new goal,” you laugh. “Stop being a jerk for Hyeju. That’s a harder project than any photoshoot.”

“Good luck,” she says, raising her bottle in a toast. “You’ll need it.”

The toast feels like a silent pact. A truce between two forces who clearly enjoy challenging each other. And you realize, against all odds, that you’re genuinely enjoying the night.

"You know," you start, leaning in slightly toward her, "that impossible way you have about you... I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like that."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asks, crossing her arms like she's expecting another sarcastic remark.

"Good," you reply, serious for a brief second, before breaking the mood with a playful smile. "Good, but unbearable. I think you're getting me addicted to fights."

"It's an addictive drug, this whole 'brutal honesty' thing," she says, tossing her hair back. "But I can’t promise you’ll handle the addiction."

"Now I want to find out," you answer, not missing a beat.

You lean back on the bed a little, looking at Hyeju with a smile that's half-charm, half-tease. She stares right back, clearly unwilling to drop her guard, though the playful gleam in her eyes is undeniable.

"Look," she starts, still holding the empty beer bottle between her fingers, "You said I’m more interesting than Miyeon, but, let's face it, she's perfect. So perfect it's annoying. If she's your type, then I’m definitely not."

You raise an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "Who said she’s my type? And who said you're not?"

She shrugs, as if it’s obvious. "If you like porcelain dolls, I’m definitely in a different category, dude."

"I'm a man of varied tastes," you counter, leaning in a bit. "And honestly? You’re very much my type."

"Oh, sure. I'll pretend to believe that."

You chuckle, but there's something more serious in your voice as you look at her a bit more closely. "I’m serious. You’ve got those eyes... those eyes that are hypnotizing. It’s like you’re a wolf, ready to pounce."

She lets out a low laugh, her skeptical expression barely shifting. "I'll really pretend to believe that."

"No, seriously!" you insist, laughing too, though your voice drops slightly, almost conspiratorial. "When you grabbed me by the shirt earlier, looked me dead in the eyes like that, I swear my heart skipped a beat. Really."

Hyeju looks at you for a moment, then one corner of her mouth curls into a mischievous smile. "You're saying you like dominant girls, is that it?"

"I’d say so, yeah. And I think a woman with enough power could put me in my place. Some people unfortunately only learn the hard way."

She is silent as she places the empty bottle on the nightstand, then she looks at you with an unreadable, yet quite sexy expression. "You make me laugh," she says, her voice a bit softer now, but with that sharp, mocking edge. "And it’s hard for a guy to make me laugh." You feel oddly complimented, but before you can respond, she continues, "But I think it's because you're kinda pathetic.”

"Pathetic, huh?"

She smiles back, eyes locked on yours as she approaches you on the bed. "Yes, pathetic. In a... charming way, as you said.”

You let out a short laugh, lowering your head for a moment before looking back at her. "Well, there’s something pretty sexy about the way you humiliate me. It makes me feel strange things."

"Oh, yeah?" Her tone is teasing, but her eyes study you with an intensity that wasn’t there before. "I make you feel that way, huh?"

You swallow, but keep the smile on your face. "You do. And I need to be honest, I’m enjoying it a lot more than I expected."

"Okay, you really are pathetic."

"Maybe," you answer, looking directly into her eyes. "And I think that's a good thing for a tough girl; you know, she can do whatever she wants with a guy like that." Hyeju stares at you for a moment as if she's deciding what to do next, but instead of saying something, she just smiles subtly. You feel the atmosphere in the room shift again, this time into something more electric, something that makes your heart beat a little faster. "Oh, and maybe," you add, your voice almost a whisper now, "getting under your skin was the smartest thing I did today."

"Smart or suicidal?”

“Well, I’m hoping to find out soon if it was smart or suicidal," you reply as you hand her your bottle so she can put it on the nightstand.

Hyeju, more relaxed now, slips off her heels and, without ceremony, puts her legs across your lap. You can't help but take a good look at her toned thighs before starting to massage her feet, noticing how tense they are. "You know," you start, your voice casual, "you would have been way better company than Miyeon at that restaurant."

“If you’d slept with Miyeon, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

You pause the foot massage for a moment, reflecting, before shrugging. “Maybe. But, honestly? I think I would’ve regretted it. She’s... well, pretty, but she’s like a hardcover book with blank pages."

“So, what? I’m the more interesting option, but clearly the second choice.”

“Second choice? Look, maybe you’re seeing this the wrong way.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s the right way to see it?” She crosses her arms but keeps her legs on your lap.

You take a dramatic pause, your hand still resting on her thigh. "Well, who knows... maybe the universe got involved in this whole thing just to make sure we’d end up here, now. Maybe Miyeon was just the excuse."

"That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. If that’s the best you can come up with, I think I understand why your art judgment is so... questionable."

You smile, charmed by how easily she can tear you down with a single line. "It might not work for you, but I’m good at adapting to circumstances. And speaking of adapting..." Your hand slides a little further up her leg, an almost innocent move, if not for the way your fingers rest on her soft skin. "I have to admit, you looked absolutely stunning at the exhibition yesterday."

“Oh, yeah? What exactly did you find so stunning?"

"Everything. Your dress, your hair, your perfume, you also look quite cute when you're nervous. It was hard for me to be rude to you… Seriously, I’m sorry for being such a jerk.”

Hyeju laughs, a low, almost gentle sound this time, like she's testing you. “You don’t apologize often, do you?”

“It doesn’t happen a lot,” you admit, feeling a wave of genuine honesty that doesn’t usually come up. "But now I want to apologize as much as necessary for you to forgive me."

She uncrosses her arms, and suddenly, the tension in the air shifts again. "It’s in the past," she murmurs, as if she's more focused on the present than on what happened before.

Then, before you know it, she takes her legs off your lap and leans in closer, your faces so close you can smell her soft perfume. "You know," she says, her tone half-mocking but with a hint of gentleness, "for a jerk, you’re actually pretty cute."

And without warning, her lips touch yours.

The kiss starts almost playfully, a silent dare that Hyeju seems intent on winning. She's dangerously close, her hand on your chest, and you can feel your heart pounding. She smiles between the press of her lips, as if she's reveling in your reaction. You feel the texture of her lips, soft yet firm, a kiss with that unstable tension that only makes things more thrilling. Then Hyeju decides to escalate, her fingers tracing the nape of your neck, and your hand squeezing the soft flesh of her thigh, absorbing that delicious heat. The sexual tension isn't just a spark; it's a full-blown inferno. You feel the heat rising from your lips to your face, to every inch of your skin. You try to hold back, to maintain your composure, because right now she's simply enjoying the game, and you don't want to spoil her pleasure. She pulls away for a moment, long enough for you to think the kiss is over, but it's just a cruel tease, because she's back, and this time the touch is gentler, as if she's toying with you, controlling the intensity with maddening precision. And you're convinced this is the kind of kiss that should be studied, because it's layered with meaning—a subtle provocation, a hint of irritating attraction, and an unexpected honesty that doesn't belong to two people who, just hours ago, could barely stand each other. Hatred transformed into pure desire, and it's in everything—the fine sheen of sweat, the exchanged saliva, the air, in the curious hands... The night is just beginning.

"Did you like it?" Hyeju asks.

You smile, that half-sly, half-entranced grin. “The universe definitely knows what it’s doing,” you reply.

“You’re a scoundrel, you know that?” Hyeju mutters, her voice low, as if she’s talking more to herself.

“Scoundrel? Yeah, a scoundrel with no salvation... unless some girl touches my heart.” You chuckle, that self-deprecating tone that just makes the moment even more fun.

She gives you a light slap on your chest. "Stop trying to be romantic. It doesn’t suit you.”

You laugh, genuinely, and run a hand through her hair, moving down to her shoulder. "Who said I’m trying?"

She looks at you with a mixture of disbelief and... something else. Something warmer. "Maybe you’re more interesting than I thought," she admits, almost reluctantly.

"And you," you say, your voice lowering slightly, “are much more than just interesting.”

Hyeju smiles in a way that can only be described as dangerously charming. Without warning, she moves quickly, and before you understand what’s happening, she’s sitting on top of you. Her weight on your lap is both comfortable and destabilizing, like at that moment, the control of the situation has shifted hands. And clearly, it has.

"Oh, so this is how you want to play?" you ask, trying to keep some control over your own voice.

She tilts her head, her hair falling to the side, that smile still firmly on her lips. "Me? Play? Honey, I already won."

And then she kisses you again, this time with an intensity that catches you off guard, Making you lie on your back in bed. There’s no hesitation, just desire carved into every move, every touch. Her tongue meets yours as if she's marking territory, and the sensation is electrifying. Your hands, as if they have a mind of their own, slide up her thighs, feeling the firmness and softness of her skin, moving up her waist until they reach her back.

She leans in more, her lips now moving to your neck, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. Every kiss feels like a small conquest, as if she’s claiming pieces of you inch by inch.

"You get goosebumps so easily, don't you?" Hyeju murmurs against your skin.

"Not my fault," you reply, your voice rougher than usual. "You know exactly where to touch."

She lets out a low chuckle, her teeth grazing lightly along your skin. "You haven't seen anything yet."

When she kisses you again, it's a mix of desire and absolute control. Her hands cradle your face, her lips moving with precision, and you can't help but think, in the heat of that moment, it's utterly addictive. Your tongues tangle frantically, as if every second holds a newfound urgency.

"I’m going to teach you a lesson," she murmurs between kisses, biting your lip gently. The brief pain only intensifies your longing.

You chuckle low, trying to keep a trace of your mocking personality amid the chaos. "And what kind of lesson would that be?"

She pauses, looking into your eyes with an intensity that almost undoes you on the spot. "The lesson that you can’t underestimate someone like me," she says, her hands sliding down your chest. "Because, in the end, I always win."

You give her a lopsided grin, still trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it's clear you've already lost. "Confident, huh?"

"More than you," she responds with a smirk, resuming her kisses as her hands explore every inch of your body. Your own hands are back on her thighs, moving up, feeling every curve, every line. She moves with a fluidity that can only be described as fierce.

For a moment, you try to catch your breath, but she doesn’t give you room. "You really love having control, don't you?"

Hyeju stops and looks at you, that mischievous smile still on her lips. "And you love losing it. Admit it."

"Maybe I’m learning to like it," you reply, your hand sliding along the curve of her waist.

Hyeju pauses, and slowly pulls away, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to you, before climbing off your body. With a sly smile, she stands, eyes blazing with mischief.

"Hold on, bad boy, we’re doing this my way." She says, raising her hands to finally remove the dress. The zipper slides smoothly down, and with one firm motion, the fabric falls to the floor, revealing her flawless lingerie. Her body is a living masterpiece, the kind that makes your heart both skip and race.

You watch, mouth slightly open, unable to hide your awe. "Damn… I can't take my eyes off you, you're so fucking perfect, Hyeju," you murmur.

"And you think I don’t know that?" She steps toward you, her eyes locked on yours, stopping just in front of you. "Now take off those clothes. Quickly."

Her voice is firm, almost commanding, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "Looks like someone’s in charge today, huh?"

"Are you still talking?" she counters with a half-smile, leaning over you. "I thought you’d already figured out who calls the shots here."

You laugh, but comply without argument. You start to take off your shirt and pants quickly, trying to keep your usual charm, though you know she already has the upper hand. When you're down to just your boxers, Hyeju gives you an appraising look from head to toe, releasing a playful sigh.

"Much better," she says, placing a hand on her hip as she assesses you critically, like she’s judging what's in front of her. "But it’s still not quite good enough."

"Care to give me a hand here?" you tease.

Hyeju shakes her head, stepping forward until your bodies are almost touching. “Are you really incapable of doing anything on your own?" she says, her tone cool, but her face still wearing that wicked smile. "Fine, I’ll help you with this."

She gives your chest a light shove, making you lie back on the bed.

Hyeju approaches, her steps slow, almost like a huntress, until she easily straddles you, pressing her body against yours.

She starts kissing you, her lips hot and hungry, and you respond in kind, running your hands along her back, feeling the delicate fabric of her bra. Her kisses travel down your neck, swift and sure, until she begins to explore your chest with her mouth.

"And to think all that anger at Miyeon was really jealousy," you say, laughing between breaths as she moves lower. "Gonna deny that seeing her with me drove you crazy?"

Hyeju pauses, her lips hovering over your abdomen. She meets your gaze with a sharp look, her smile dangerously mischievous. "Crazy? Yes. But don’t get cocky. It drove me crazy for all the wrong reasons."

She continues her trail of kisses along your body, unhurried, as if she knows exactly the impact she's having on you. Her warm lips slide across your skin until she stops just above the line of your boxers.

"Are you really going to make me wait?"

"I love watching you lose control," she murmurs, before trailing her tongue slowly along your stomach. "And it looks like it's already happening."

She places a teasing kiss just above the bulge in your boxers, pressing down lightly with her fingers, and you can’t hold back a low moan. "If you keep this up, I'll have to pay you back," you threaten, but it's clear you have no intention of changing the dynamic.

Hyeju laughs, squeezing a bit more firmly, her eyes never leaving yours. "I love when you try to act tough. It’s actually cute." She plants another kiss over your boxers before lifting her head. "But we both know who’s in charge here."

She leans forward, kissing your chest again, her skilled hands toying with your nipples as your body responds to her every touch.

"You’ll thank me later," she whispers, her mouth descending again to your boxers, eyes locked onto yours. "You can bet on that."

"Or maybe I’ll be the one making you thank me," you retort, trying to keep up appearances, but knowing she’s already winning.

"Nice try," Hyeju says with a wicked grin, her fingers hooking onto the waistband of your boxers. "Now, let’s see if you can last."

She slowly and deliberately pulls down your boxers, revealing your hard cock, completely at her mercy. She releases an exaggerated sigh, her eyes fixed on you, savoring every second of your anticipation.

"Well, look at this," she taunts, tilting her head slightly as she lightly trails her hand along the length. "All this, just for me? What an honor."

You chuckle, trying to keep your cool. "Feel flattered all you want, but I want to see what you're going to do with it."

She smiles, that familiar look of pure mischief flashing across her face, before lowering her head slowly. She stops just as her lips are about to touch the head, hovering mere millimeters away, and looks up at you. "You're going to learn to stay quiet."

And before you can respond with another joke, she wraps her warm, wet lips around the head of your cock, and you let out an involuntary moan. The sensation is instant, and you can barely hold back. Hyeju works with precision, starting slow, just the tip, swirling her tongue in circles that leave you breathless.

"Still feeling cocky?" she teases, pulling away for a moment, a thin line of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. She smirks, wiping the saliva with her finger and licking it off, maintaining eye contact. "Or have you given up on playing tough?" You try to reply, but with the pleasure surging through you, you only manage an incoherent mumble. This only makes her smile grow. "Thought so."

She goes back to sucking, now taking more of you, swallowing most of your length with ease, her eyes never leaving yours. She makes sure to stay in control, adjusting the intensity and speed according to what she wants from you. Every time you moan louder, she slows down, as if testing your limits.

"How are you feeling, baby?" she asks, pulling away briefly to stroke your wet cock. "I know you love it when I make you wait."

"Not gonna lie," you admit, breathless, your mind spinning from the building pleasure. "But... you’ll have to try harder if you want to break me."

"Oh, I’ll break you, don’t worry."

She leans back down, licking along the entire length, slowly, savoring every part of you. "I'll teach you the lesson you deserve."

Her pace begins to increase, the movements faster and more intense, her mouth sliding up and down in an intoxicating rhythm. She takes you all the way, the wet sound and her soft moans filling the room. You feel the heat and pressure building, as though she's drawing the life out of you.

"Getting close, aren’t you?" she asks between licks.

"You... you know it," you admit, barely able to speak.

"Then get ready," she murmurs, focusing on the head, sucking with intensity while her hand moves to cup your balls. "Because I want to watch you lose control."

And you do. The pleasure is overwhelming, your whole body trembling as she keeps sucking, relentless. The way she alternates between licking, sucking, and squeezing your balls pushes you to the edge. You feel the pressure mounting, your body preparing to explode, but she slows down once again, pulling away and chuckling softly.

"You want to come, don't you? But not so fast," she teases, her lips still grazing the tip of your cock. She kisses the head softly, almost like she's rewarding you for holding out this long. "I'm going to end up killing you with all this teasing, you know that?" She laughs, resuming with a slower, yet equally devastating rhythm.

Each time she takes back control, the intensity climbs gradually, until you're at a point where your mind can barely keep up. Her mouth doesn’t stop, her eyes fixed on you, as if savoring the power she has in her hands—or rather, in her mouth.

Hyeju intensifies her movements, her mouth sliding over your cock with a practiced ease, not letting up. The way she switches between firm suction and long licks is unbearably good, and you feel the pleasure building up to explosive levels.

She watches you from below, a sharp gaze that knows exactly what it’s doing. "I can feel you shaking. You’re almost there, aren’t you?"

"Fuck... yeah, almost," you moan, your body arching involuntarily as pleasure reaches a peak that feels impossible to contain.

She smiles, clearly reveling in the control she has over you. "I know you can’t hold out much longer. But you’re only going to come when I let you. Got it?"

"Got it..." you manage to reply, your voice breaking as your breathing grows heavier. Each second feels like an eternity, your body begging for release, but she keeps dictating the pace, keeping you on the edge.

She leans down again, sucking harder, as one hand wraps around the base of your cock, gripping and controlling every movement. Her other hand caresses your balls, squeezing lightly, pushing you even closer to the edge.

"You’re going to come so hard for me," Hyeju murmurs, pulling your cock from her mouth for a moment. "But only when I want you to. I want to feel that power I have over you."

"You already have all the power," you groan, practically pleading. "Please..."

"That's how I like it," she says with a satisfied smile, going back to sucking, as if she wants to consume you entirely. "Now, get ready. When I give the order, you’re going to give me everything you've got."

She picks up the pace, sucking with devotion, her wet, firm lips around you, each second bringing you closer to the edge. Her eyes never leave yours, as if she's feeding off your expression of pure desperation and ecstasy.

"Are you ready?" she asks, her voice low and commanding. You can only moan in response, already incapable of forming words.

"I want you to come for me... now!"

Her words are the final trigger. The control you’ve been struggling to maintain shatters completely. Pleasure overwhelms you, and you let out a loud moan, your whole body convulsing as the first wave of orgasm crashes over you. Hyeju doesn’t let up, continuing to suck with the same intensity, taking each spurt of cum with a blend of satisfaction and triumph.

"Yes... give me everything," she murmurs between movements, her voice muffled as she keeps sucking, swallowing every drop without hesitation, as if she's feeding off you. "Good boy... I knew you’d give me everything I wanted."

Your whole body trembles as she continues, pushing you beyond your limits, until pleasure melds with exhaustion. Hyeju finally pulls her mouth away, slowly licking her lips to clean off the last traces of your cum.

"Wow..." you gasp, unable to keep from smiling, your mind still reeling. "If that wasn't a perfect blowjob, I don’t know what is."

Hyeju laughs, satisfied, leaning over you, her body warm against yours. "I warned you I’d knock you out, didn’t I?"

You nod, still catching your breath. "I underestimated you. But now... I’m completely convinced."

Her lips find yours with renewed heat, the slight salty taste of your cum mingling in the kiss. She explores your mouth with an almost animalistic hunger, her body pressed against yours as your hands trace her back, sliding down to her hips.

You feel yourself respond again, your erection returning quickly under her touch, as if your body has been trained to react to the slightest stimulus from Hyeju. She notices instantly and smiles against your mouth, breaking the kiss to gently bite your lower lip, then sliding her tongue to your earlobe, nibbling it lightly.

"Is your dick getting hard again already?" she whispers, her breath hot against your ear. "But I barely let you rest."

You let out a sigh, somewhere between a smile and a moan, feeling the pressure in your cock build as she moves slowly over you. "You leave me no choice. With you, resting is impossible."

She chuckles softly, giving your earlobe another bite before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, her smile full of mischief. "That’s how I like it, baby."

As you try to catch your breath, your mind still spinning, a thought crosses your mind, and you let out a low, teasing giggle. "You know, Miyeon would never swallow like you did... Not even if I paid her."

Hyeju raises an eyebrow, her smile turning into something more disdainful. "Miyeon?" She laughs, throwing her head back for a moment. "That little porcelain princess? Please... Not only would she never swallow, she’d never let you come on her perfect little face."

"Yeah, she’d probably have a meltdown just thinking about the mess," you respond, laughing along.

"Exactly," Hyeju says, bringing her face close to yours again, her lips almost brushing yours. "And do you think she could survive a second with me? I’d destroy the princess."

She kisses you, more intensely this time, as if to drive her point home. Her tongue plays with yours, and you taste a mixture of challenge and possessiveness that only she can convey. As the kiss deepens, Hyeju's hand slides slowly down to your erection, which is fully hard again. She strokes your cock with a skilled touch, but without rushing things.

You let out a sigh, breathless, feeling your body respond more and more to her touch. "And I won’t even lie... Cumming on your face would be way more fun."

Her body presses a little harder against yours, and you feel the rising heat between her thighs as the friction makes you throb even harder.

"You talk about cumming on my face like it's the ultimate goal," Hyeju murmurs against your mouth, while her hand continues working your cock, her fingers gripping lightly. "But you haven’t even started to discover what I can do to you."

You moan softly, your body reacting automatically to her touch. "Oh, I’ve seen enough. And what I’ve seen... has already driven me crazy."

She smiles, biting your lip lightly once again. "Then it's time to show you more, don't you think?"

Before you have the chance to respond, Hyeju lets go of your erection and pulls back just enough to slide her hands down to her panties. With a swift motion, she pulls the fabric to the side, revealing her wet pussy, and just the sight makes you harder than you thought possible.

She positions herself over you, her panties still pushed to the side, and without hesitation, she lowers herself until the head of your cock touches her lips. Her heat and wetness are almost overwhelming, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning. Hyeju looks into your eyes, that expression of pure control on her face, as she starts to sink down slowly, taking you in inch by inch.

"Ah... fuck," you gasp, unable to hold back. Her tightness is intense, her warmth making your head spin, and the way she moves down slowly, with total control, only heightens the torment.

Hyeju bites her own lip, letting out a quiet moan as she feels you fill her. "Feels good, doesn’t it? Damn, you got my pussy so wet..."

She begins moving slowly, riding with a steady, confident rhythm, her hips undulating as she dictates the pace. The wet sound of her body meeting yours is intoxicating, and you feel your hands instinctively gripping her waist, trying to keep up, but Hyeju doesn’t allow it.

"Oh no," she says in an authoritative tone, stopping her movement and placing her hands over yours, pushing them away from her waist. "I told you I’m the one in control here. Don’t even think about rushing me."

You obey, smiling with a mix of submission and provocation. "Yes, ma'am. Who am I to argue?"

She smiles back, satisfied with your surrender. "Good boy."

She resumes her movement, gradually increasing her speed, her body sliding over you with devastating precision. Each time she sinks down, you feel her tightness intensify, her whole body vibrating with pleasure as she controls every rise and fall. The sight of her bare breasts only heightens the eroticism and anticipation.

"This... has nothing to do with Miyeon," Hyeju says, her voice slightly breathless, but still with that commanding tone. "She’d never be able to leave you like this... completely at her mercy. You know that, right?"

"You’re right," you admit. "Only you can do this to me, Hyeju.”

She smiles again, her ego swelling with your confession, and begins to ride you harder, the rhythm now faster, the movements more intense. The sound of bodies colliding fills the room, Hyeju’s moans growing louder, but she never loses control.

“That’s it, go on… feel how much you’re mine,” she murmurs, eyes closed as she sinks into the sensation, yet never relinquishing command. “Mmm, your cock goes so deep in my pussy, fuck!”

Hyeju speeds up her rhythm, her body rising and falling over you with a near-cruel precision, each movement keeping you on the edge of pleasure, but still far from release.

Suddenly, she pauses for a moment, her hips pressed firmly against yours, and with calculated calm, she reaches up to her bra strap. Her gaze locks onto yours, a challenging smile forming at the corner of her mouth. She slides the straps off her shoulders and, with a slow motion, unclasps the back. The bra falls away, revealing the breasts you’d been dying to see uncovered.

She holds them briefly, squeezing them lightly, fingers teasing her own nipples before letting out a low, provocative laugh. “Do you like them, baby?” she asks. “I know you can’t take your eyes off my tits.”

You feel your breath catch, the sight of her bare breasts swaying slightly as she keeps you trapped beneath her, mesmerizing. “Well… as a photographer I'm always observing things, and I appreciate natural beauty, if you know what I mean..”

She resumes riding you, now with a more deliberate rhythm, her free breasts moving with the sway of her hips, and you can’t look away. The pleasure builds slowly, but she knows exactly how to keep you on the brink, never letting you fall into the abyss.

It’s delicious torture.

“Go on, say it,” she whispers, eyes locked on yours. “Admit you love watching them bounce while I use you. Tell me how much you love being my toy.”

You moan in response, your whole body arching with the rising pleasure, still holding back as best you can. “Damn… I love it. You know I do.”

She smiles, satisfied, riding with more intensity now, her movements faster, her hips slamming into you with force. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, the sight driving you to the edge of desperation. She leans back slightly, planting her hands on your knees, her body displayed in all its glory, moving with complete dominance.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she murmurs, her voice breathless yet filled with authority.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moans threatening to escape, the pleasure building slowly but still just out of reach.

Then, she slows down, her movements becoming a tease, provoking you. With an expression of pure authority, she leans forward, her breasts swaying lightly, almost brushing your face. She grabs your chin with one hand and looks directly into your eyes.

“Suck them,” she commands, her voice low and commanding. “I want to feel your mouth on my breasts.”

No further invitation is needed. Without hesitation, you raise your head and bring your lips to her breast, capturing her nipple and sucking devotedly. The soft taste of her skin and the sensation of her so close make you even harder, if that were possible. Hyeju lets out a low moan of satisfaction as you comply, her fingers tangling in your hair, guiding your head firmly.

“Yes… just like that,” she murmurs, her tone filled with pleasure. “I knew you’d be good at this. Go on, suck harder!”

You suck on her breast with more intensity, your tongue teasing her hardened nipple, while your other hand slides up to her other breast, gently squeezing it. Hyeju’s body responds immediately, and she moans louder, pressing her breasts against your mouth as if she wants to be devoured.

“You love this, don’t you?” she whispers, her breath ragged. “You love when I tell you what to do… when I put you in your place. You love being your mistress's toy!”

You only moan in response, unwilling to release her breast, sucking with even more fervor as your hands explore her body. Hyeju laughs, pleased with your dedication, her fingers tugging at your hair as her body starts moving over your cock again, now slower but still tight enough to make you see stars.

“Yes! Keep going… don’t stop,” she orders, moaning as she moves with a calculated rhythm, her breasts still firmly caught in your mouth. “I want to feel your mouth on me while I use you.”

You feel her body tremble slightly as she rides you, and you can’t help but let out a muffled moan, your mouth full of her breast. The pleasure is overwhelming, but you know Hyeju is still in charge, and you have no choice but to follow her lead.

Hyeju keeps riding you with absurd precision, each movement designed to bring you closer to the edge, yet still far enough that she maintains absolute control. Her breathing is heavier now, but the superior smile never leaves her face.

“You know you’re mine, right?” she says, biting her lip as she speeds up her thrusts. “My toy. My slave. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me.”

You smile back, breathless, but with that cocky look she seems to adore. “Oh, you know, Hyeju. I’d do anything you want. I don’t have a choice, not with you like this.”

She lets out a low, wicked laugh, her hips moving almost mechanically, each thrust driving you deeper, more tightly into the grip she has on you. “Of course you don’t have a choice. Because you love being used. You love when I command. When I make a fool out of you with just a look.”

You groan in response, your hands slipping along her waist, trying to keep up, but she immediately slaps them away, stopping for a second.

“No! I’m the one who moves,” she says, with that authoritative tone that makes you shiver.

You try to hold back, savoring each second of this delicious torture, but Hyeju doesn’t let you settle in for long. Suddenly, she stops moving and lets out a satisfied moan as she leans back, supporting her hands on your knees. Her body, still enveloping you, glistens with a thin layer of sweat, and the sight alone could drive anyone insane.

"Now, I want something different," she murmurs, her eyes narrowing with an idea that already seems to put you in danger. "I’m going to show you what it’s like when I really take control."

She lifts herself slowly, letting out a sigh as your cock slides out of her, and then, without warning, she turns her back to you. Her hair falls over her shoulders as she positions herself again, this time facing away, and in one smooth motion, she lowers herself down, taking you in completely.

"Oh... fuck! I love the tightness of your pussy," you groan aloud, the sight of her back, her hips swaying as she wraps around you again, the kind of torture you’d love to endure far longer than you can manage.

She begins to ride you backwards, the pace fast and relentless, and you find yourself at the mercy of her precise movements. Each time she descends, the grip of her pussy around you feels tighter, more suffocating. The sound of bodies colliding fills the room, and Hyeju lets out moans of pleasure, but you know she’s still in control, even as she’s barely holding it together.

"Now... you’re going to watch," she says, her voice breathy but full of authority. "I’m going to do whatever I want... and you'll just keep lying like this, holding on, like the good boy you are."

You try to grip her buttocks, but Hyeju won’t allow it, pushing your hands away again with a smack, harder this time. "No! I already told you... I'm the only one who can move here."

She speeds up, riding you with force and precision, and you feel on the brink of collapse, pleasure reaching an almost unbearable level. "Damn, Hyeju... you’re going to kill me like this."

She laughs aloud, glancing over her shoulder with that smug smile. "Kill you? I haven’t even started. You’re going to beg for more before I’m done."

Her hips start moving more violently, the wet sound of her body slamming against yours filling the space. The sight of her, those perfect hips, the way she rides with mastery—all of it is a reminder of how completely she dominates you. Hyeju leans slightly forward, bracing her hands on your thighs to gain more balance, and starts dictating the rhythm with unyielding strength, and you get lost in the sight of her pussy going in and out of your cock.

"Tell me, you scoundrel," she says between moans, "do you like being like this? Completely submissive? Seeing that I do whatever I want with you?"

"You know I love it," you respond with difficulty, the moans mixing with your words. "There’s nothing better than being your toy."

She smiles, satisfied, and speeds up even more, the pace now frantic. "That’s how I like it... you adoring me, serving me…" Suddenly, she pauses for a moment, and you can barely breathe from the accumulated desire. Hyeju looks over her shoulder, a mischievous smile on her face. "Now, smack my ass," she commands, her voice full of command. "I want to see if you have the guts to give me what I deserve."

Hyeju moans loudly when the sound of the first smack reverberates through the room, the shock spreading warmth through her body that seems to fuel her. She doesn’t slow down; on the contrary, with each thrust, she presses her hips harder against you, riding even harder as if the smacks were the spark missing to ignite something primal in her.

"Yes!" she shouts, eyes closed in pure pleasure. "More! Don’t stop!"

You obey, your hand finding the soft skin of her ass with a crack. The second smack is even stronger, making her whole body shake, but Hyeju only laughs through her moans, grinding on you, her hips rolling with a mastery that drives you to the brink of insanity.

"Fuck, that’s what I want!" Hyeju demands, looking over her shoulder with a smile that mixes pleasure and challenge. "Hit me harder, don’t hold back. You like seeing my ass marked, don’t you? Go on, hit harder!"

You smirk. "Begging, Hyeju? I thought you were the one in control."

"I’m the one who calls the shots here. And I’m telling you to hit harder!" Her voice is a mix of command and desire, her body moving with an intensity that makes you tremble with pleasure.

Your hand comes down with force again, the smack echoing even louder this time. Hyeju arches her back, moaning so deeply it seems she’s losing herself in her own domination. Her ass jiggles with the impact, but she keeps riding, the sound of bodies colliding louder than ever.

"Go, don’t stop!" she shouts, moving her hips like a machine, not missing a beat for a second. "I want to feel your cock and your hands at the same time! Make me feel like I’m your owner... because I am!"

You don’t hesitate, your hand striking her ass again and again, the sound of smacks mixing with Hyeju’s desperate moans. She doesn’t stop riding; every hit on her skin makes her moan louder, her breathing ragged and movements almost frenzied now. She’s in complete control, even while begging for more.

"More! It’s not enough!" she shouts, her body shaking wildly, hair flying as she rides you like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do. "Hit me until I can’t take anymore!"

You feel her body trembling around yours; each smack you deliver seems to bring her closer to an insane climax, but she doesn’t slow down. On the contrary, she grips you with an intensity that makes your head spin, the wet sounds of her pussy, the smacks and bodies colliding all you can hear.

"You’re going crazy, aren’t you?" Hyeju taunts between moans, her breath labored but her voice still firm. "I can see it on your face… Mmm, it turns me on so much that you obey me without hesitation, you're so fucking pathetic.”

"Yeah! I’d do anything for you, Hyeju."

She laughs, her satisfaction evident on her face. "I know you would. And you will. Right now."

Suddenly, Hyeju stops riding and quickly gets up, pulling your cock out of her. The emptiness is immediate and almost unbearable, but before you can protest, she turns, facing you, and deftly removes her panties and tosses them aside; without wasting any time, she climbs onto your chest, her knees braced at your sides, with that look of pure authority. Her gaze drops to your face, and you know exactly what comes next.

Hyeju doesn’t even need to speak.

"Open that fucking mouth and do as I say,” she commands, looking directly into your eyes.

She slowly lowers herself, her pulsing pussy hovering over your face, and you obey without hesitation. Your mouth finds her center of pleasure, your tongue sliding between the warm lips as you suck and lick with devotion, her taste filling your senses. Hyeju’s body trembles at the first touch, but she remains in control, pressing her hips down to force you to lick deeper.

"Ah, that... that’s how I like it," Hyeju moans, her voice filled with pleasure. "Don’t stop..."

You move your tongue with precision, exploring every part of her juicy pussy, sucking harder as your hands reach up to grab her ass, squeezing it as if it were your anchor. Hyeju moans louder, her body moving to the rhythm she dictates, grinding against your face, her moans now uninhibited.

"That’s it... keep going... Faster!" she cries, her fingers tangling in your hair, pulling your head against her as she writhes in pleasure. "You love doing this, don’t you? Say it... say you love the taste of your owner."

You try to respond, but the words get lost as you lick more intensely, your mouth fully occupied in fulfilling her every command. Hyeju laughs, pleased with your dedication, but doesn’t let up the pressure. She moves up and down on your face, grinding herself harder each time, as her body nears its climax.

"Ah, fuck... you’re perfect," she moans, breathless, her whole body trembling. "I’m going to cum... and you’re going to swallow every drop of my juice, got it? You’re going to savor your owner like never before."

You can only groan in response, your mouth trapped in the frenzy of her body. Hyeju begins to move faster, her moans becoming almost screams, her hands still gripping your hair tightly as her body trembles above you.

“Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum in your mouth! That's it! Suck my pussy, don't stop!”

She’s completely out of control, her moans filling the room as she cums in your mouth with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

"That’s it... swallow it all… fuck!" Hyeju screams, her body shaking with spasms. "Taste your owner... every drop!"

You do exactly what she wants, drinking her juice, sucking every part of her as Hyeju comes down from her climax, her movements finally slowing The taste of her pussy fills your mouth, along with the smell in your nose, and you can’t help but feel satisfaction from having brought her to this point.

Hyeju collapses beside you on the bed, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tries to catch her breath. But the smile on her face is one of pure satisfaction. Without a word, she leans over, her gaze fixed on yours, and in a slow, deliberate motion, kisses you deeply, her tongue finding yours, tasting herself in your mouth.

"Mmm... so good," Hyeju murmurs against your lips, chuckling. "That's my taste you're savoring... and I want you to never forget it. Every time you serve me, it’ll be like this... I'll reward you."

She lightly bites your lower lip, her gaze gleaming with pure mischief but also a hidden tenderness behind her control. "You did so fucking well, but there's still more. I can't get enough of using you. Now, tell me... how did it feel? I want to hear."

You take a deep breath, still recovering. "It was... damn, it was like I was in heaven and hell at the same time. And I’d do it all over again, just to see you like that."

Hyeju smiles, her gaze satisfied and possessive. "I know you would. Because you know I’m everything you need." She pauses for a moment, eyes locked on yours, before adding with a devilish smile, "If I let you, you'd spend the rest of the night licking my pussy. Confess."

Your breathing gets heavy, your fingers sliding down her back, and you can't help but respond. "Fuck, Hyeju, I'd do it all day if you wanted."

"I know you would. And that’s exactly what’s going to happen now."

She starts to move, positioning herself over you, and suddenly, you understand exactly what she wants. Hyeju lifts one leg, turning her body to face away from you, getting on her knees over your head again, but this time she leans forward, her hands already reaching for your still-hard cock. You feel her warm breath close, desire building in the air around you.

"Time for 69, baby," she murmurs, her voice both sweet and commanding. "I’m going to use you again... and you’re going to worship me like I deserve."

Without waiting for a response, Hyeju lowers her hips, pressing her pussy directly against your mouth once more, her scent consuming you. At the same time, she grips your cock with one hand, not hesitating to slide her mouth over it, sucking with that same devotion you felt before. But now, the rhythm is different—more controlled, slower, as if she’s savoring every second.

"Ah, yes... so good," she moans between sucks, her words muffled by your cock in her mouth. "You love it when I suck, don’t you? Say it!"

You try to speak, but your mouth is occupied, licking and sucking her pussy like your life depends on it. Each movement of your tongue seems to make her body tremble, and Hyeju responds by riding your face with more intensity, while her mouth moves slowly down your cock, deeper each time, reaching her throat.

She pauses for a moment, pulling your cock out of her mouth just to speak, her voice breathless. "Fuck, you're so delicious. I’ll never get tired of doing this to you... never."

Hyeju returns to sucking with more intensity, her tongue swirling around the tip, her moans blending with the wet sounds of the blowjob as you keep licking her pussy. Her legs tremble around your head, her body tensing with pleasure, but she doesn’t stop for a second. Even in the midst of an imminent climax, she keeps control, her moans getting louder but never losing that authoritative tone.

"Yes... make me come again, damn it!" Hyeju demands, her voice full of lust. "I want to feel your tongue inside me, until I come in your mouth again."

You obey, moving your tongue with more precision, sucking harder as Hyeju shivers above you. She resumes devouring your cock, sucking with an insane devotion, every movement of her mouth bringing you closer to your own climax. But you know the focus right now is her—Hyeju is in control, and she’ll make sure you know that until the last second.

Hyeju begins to lose control as the rhythm between you intensifies. The heat of her wet pussy pulses against your face, her skin growing hotter as her movements become more desperate, almost frenzied. The pleasure you give her with your tongue pushes her to a point where all her dominance blends with raw vulnerability, visible in the increasingly hoarse moans she lets out.

"Ah... fuck... yes..." Hyeju moans, her voice almost breaking as she keeps grinding against you, her legs trembling around your head. She tries to maintain control, to hold onto her dominance, but you sense that she’s on the verge of completely losing herself in the pleasure you’re giving her. "Don’t... don’t stop... make me come aga—oh fuck!"

Your tongue works with precision, every lick and suck sending Hyeju deeper into this spiral of ecstasy. She tries to keep sucking you, but her movements become uncoordinated, as if the pleasure is stripping away her ability to focus on anything but what she's feeling. Even so, she still tries, her warm mouth wrapping around your cock as her hands attempt to maintain rhythm, though it's clear she’s being overtaken by sensation.

"Ah... fuck... you... you drive me crazy..." Hyeju murmurs, her breath ragged, her moans growing louder as the pressure of her hips against your face increases. "I... I can’t... ahhh...!"

Hyeju starts grinding uncontrollably against your tongue, her movements erratic as pleasure consumes her. She tries to speak, but the words get lost in louder and louder moans, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her mouth barely manages to stay on your cock, the rhythm completely broken, with muffled moans escaping with each attempt at a suck.

"I... fuck, I’m going to come again..." she cries out, her voice loud and hoarse, almost desperate. "Don’t... don’t stop! I’m going... I’m going to come in your mouth again!"

Hyeju leans forward more, her legs trembling around your head, her body on the brink of collapsing under the weight of pleasure. You feel the exact moment when she loses all control. Hyeju’s body arches violently, her muscles contracting with incredible force, and she lets out a scream that echoes through the room as the orgasm tears through her with almost brutal intensity.

"Ahhh... fuck, fuck, fuck!" Hyeju screams, her head thrown back as her hands grip the sheets tightly. Her pussy pulses against your mouth, and you taste the hot rush of her climax on your tongue once again. Hyeju grinds uncontrollably against your face, moaning loudly as pleasure fully overtakes her.

"That’s it... swallow it all... feel me..." Hyeju commands, even as her body trembles uncontrollably. "I... I want to feel you devouring me... I need more... ahh, more!"

Her moans become almost incoherent, and you feel each shudder running through her body as she continues to come intensely, fully giving herself to the sensation. The pressure of her thighs around your head is almost suffocating, but the sound of Hyeju’s screams of pleasure, combined with her desperate movements, makes it all worth it.

She tries to stay steady, but her body gives in to the pleasure and collapses onto you, her hips still lightly moving as the aftershocks of her climax ripple through her skin. Hyeju’s mouth lets go of your cock, now forgotten as she struggles to regain control over herself.

"Fuck... that was..." Hyeju can barely form words between gasps, moans still escaping involuntarily. She leans back, slowly lifting her pussy off your mouth, her muscles still quivering, but a satisfied smile on her face.

You're breathing heavily, lungs burning as you catch your breath. Her taste still lingers on your tongue, and the memory of those last moments is seared into your mind. You take a deep breath, relieved yet wishing it hadn’t ended. The intensity of her pressure, combined with the thrill of nearly suffocating while making her climax, has left you in a nearly unbearable state of excitement.

"Wow, Hyeju... I almost came just from feeling you like that," you say with a raspy laugh, your voice still broken by the lack of air.

Hyeju, still recovering, turns to you. "Oh yeah? You almost came, did you?" She chuckles softly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Maybe you like seeing me like this, huh? Losing control because of you."

She leans closer, hand brushing your jaw as her lips near yours, giving you a soft kiss. "But... you haven't come yet, and I'm not done playing with you."

Hyeju slowly stands, giving you a perfect view of her body, her skin glistening with sweat. You notice her gaze fixed on your hard cock, and the way she bites her lip makes it clear she already has something in mind.

"Stand up," she commands, and you obey without hesitation, feeling the anticipation build in your chest.

Hyeju turns her back to you, her perfect ass arched and inviting. Her body presses against yours in a way that’s almost suffocatingly delicious. Your hands naturally find her breasts, and you grab them firmly, feeling their weight and softness as your fingers brush her hard nipples.

"Now... pay attention, because I'm going to make you beg," Hyeju whispers, tilting her head back, the lobe of her ear brushing lightly against your lips. She slides a hand down, guiding your cock between her thighs, squeezing it between the soft, sweaty flesh. The heat of her body and the pressure of her tanned thighs make you let out an involuntary moan.

"Damn... this feels so good," you murmur, your voice coming out lower than expected, as the wet heat of her thighs envelops your cock. Every little movement she makes, slowly grinding, is a slow but delicious torture.

Hyeju starts to tease with small hip movements as she tightens you between her legs. "I know," she replies, her tone almost arrogant. "I know exactly what you like. You're trembling. Is it from wanting me so much? From being desperate to come." She squeezes more, and you moan again, feeling the pressure build as she continues to tease. "You're going to come on my thighs... and you're going to love it," Hyeju continues, moving her body with a precision that makes you see stars. Every muscle contraction around your cock brings you closer to losing control, but she doesn’t let you relax. Every time you get too close, she slows down, chuckling softly as she keeps torturing you with her body.

Your fingers tighten around her breasts, and you lean forward to kiss Hyeju’s neck, gently biting the sweaty skin, then licking; licks that melt Hyeju, tilting her neck to the side so you have full access to her delicate skin, to worship her as she deserves… All this while the feeling of being trapped between her thighs pushes you closer to madness. "Hyeju, I’ll come if you keep this up... it’s too much."

She lets out a low, teasing laugh, the sound echoing in your mind. "That's exactly what I want! I want all your load on my thighs!" She picks up the pace, her hips circling in small, precise movements.

You moan louder, starting to grind your hips frantically, pushing your cock between her thighs, brushing against Hyeju's wet pussy with a desperate fervor. The friction is maddening, each motion pulling a moan from you that echoes through the room.

"Fuck, Hyeju... I... I'm gonna come..." you murmur, words broken by pleasure as your hands slide from her breats to her hips, gripping her tightly as you rub faster, your swollen cock pressing against the lips of her pussy, each pulsating heat of contact pushing you over the edge.

"Go ahead, baby... show me how much you want me," she responds, her voice sweet yet with that underlying malice, almost daring you to lose control entirely. "Come for me... I want to feel how much you adore me."

Your body completely loses control. With each erratic thrust between her sweaty, tight thighs, you feel the pressure build to an unbearable level. Every frantic movement of your hips pulls another moan from you, a clear sign that you're teetering on the brink of no return. The soft, slippery friction of her thighs gripping your cock tightly.

"Yes, baby... I want to feel it all," Hyeju whispers with that malice, grinding relentlessly. The heat radiating from her makes your head spin. And she's loving every second of it. "I want to feel you explode. Come for me."

You moan, voice thick with desire and desperation. The rhythm of your thrusts becomes uncoordinated, desperate, as if your body has completely lost the ability to keep any cadence.

Your cock presses deeper between her thighs, sliding against the wetness already mingling with precum. Each time you feel her pussy getting closer, the pulsing heat makes you moan louder. Hyeju's pace remains relentless, her movements precise as she revels in your desperation.

“I want to feel every drop of your hot load dripping down my thighs." She tilts her head back, laughing as she senses the power she has over you, and it only heightens your urgency.

You lose the last bit of self-control. With a final thrust, your cock presses harder between Hyeju’s thighs, nearly slipping into her pussy.

"Oh, fuck Hyeju! I'm... I'm cumming!" you shout, voice overtaken by pure pleasure. The climax hits you like a violent wave, and you let out a deep moan, your whole body tensing. The orgasm slams through you with brutal force, and your hands clutch Hyeju's body tightly, holding her desperately as your cock pulses between her thighs.

Hyeju lets out a satisfied moan, squeezing her thighs around you as she feels the hot cum spill, running down her legs. "Yes... just like that, baby. Come for me. Give me everything." Her voice is low, almost a whisper, but full of control as she keeps grinding slowly, prolonging your orgasm.

You're in bliss, every fiber of your body vibrating with pleasure that feels unending. The stream of cum drips down Hyeju’s thighs, and you feel the hot wetness sliding down her sweaty skin. Your hands grip her even tighter, as if trying to anchor yourself as your world spins with overwhelming pleasure.

"Oh, baby... I can’t take anymore... My cock is so fucking sensitive," you groan, barely able to form coherent sentences as her body continues to drain you completely.

Hyeju laughs softly, pleased with the state she's left you in. "I told you I wanted every drop, didn’t I?" She squeezes her thighs one last time, pulling the last shivers from your body. "You came so hard for me baby, good job! You are such a good boy…" You let out an exhausted moan, body still trembling as the final wave of pleasure courses through you. Hyeju, satisfied, smiles and turns around. "You're done... but you liked it, didn’t you? Tell me, baby."

"Yes... yes. I loved it... you destroyed me," you reply, voice still shaking.

Hyeju leans in to give you a deep, warm kiss. Her lips press against yours with a mix of sweetness and possessiveness, as if sealing what just happened.

"I loved putting you in your place," she whispers, her thumb stroking the corner of your mouth, wiping away a bit of saliva. "Seeing you lose control like that… there’s nothing better."

You smile, still panting, your head spinning with exhaustion and pleasure. "Damn, I loved that lesson... I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good being put in my place."

She raises an eyebrow, amused, and lightly drags her nails down your back, sending a shiver that makes you flinch slightly. "Good to know you’ve learned. And the next time I'm pissed... well, I know where I'll take it out."

"Anytime you want. If you need someone to take it out on... I’m available."

Hyeju laughs, pleased with your response, and gives you another kiss. "Oh, baby, you're easy to break... and I love that.”

You're leaning against the window, taking a drag from your cigarette, watching the city below as the buildings flicker their lights like they’re laughing at your somewhat… peculiar life. The room is wrapped in a cozy dimness, and the sound of the shower turning off fills the quiet. Then, Hyeju steps out of the bathroom, wearing one of your shirts that looks more like a dress on her. You admire her as she approaches, hair still damp, her skin glowing from the hot water. She stops halfway and raises an eyebrow.

“What are you staring at?” she asks, her voice thick with exhaustion as she dries her hair with a towel.

“I’m just… happy I managed to convince you to stay,” you reply.

“Oh, really? You think you convinced me? I only stayed because I’m dead tired. Going home right now would be asking to pass out on the subway.”

She steps closer, takes the cigarette from your hand without asking, takes a long drag, and then hands it back, heading back to toss the towel in the bathroom. “And don’t think this is going to become a habit. This sleeping-together thing… it’s a one-time deal.”

“Of course, of course,” you respond, stubbing out the cigarette and moving towards the bed. “Just this once, I promise.”

She turns off the bathroom light and shuts the door, leaving the room partially dark, and as she fluffs up the pillows, you let out: “Since it’s just this once, would it be okay if I… lay on your chest?”

She looks over at you with a mix of disbelief and sarcasm. “You’re asking to use my chest as a pillow? Are you serious?”

“Completely,” you answer, lying down beside her. “They’re way softer than any pillow. A once-in-a-lifetime chance, as you said.”

“Fine, go ahead. But only because it’s the first and last time,” she accepts as she throws herself on the bed, feeling the weight of tiredness.

You cheer and kiss her cheek before turning off the lamp. With a contented sigh, you lie down next to Hyeju and rest your head on her chest, feeling a warmth and softness that puts any five-star hotel pillow to shame.

“Mmm, you’re very comfortable,” you murmur, pulling the blanket over both of you.

“Oh, shut up,” she mumbles, her hand already moving to your hair, giving you a clumsy head scratch, as though she might stop at any moment, but unable to help herself.

“That’s nice; don’t stop,” you whisper, eyes closed.

“Say it one more time, and I’ll stop,” she replies, but the scratching continues.

A pleasant silence settles over you both until, after a few minutes, Hyeju breaks the moment, suddenly asking:

“You know something?” she begins, her voice softer than before. “My chest is definitely better than Miyeon’s for sleeping, right? Just compare the sizes.”

You chuckle softly, head still buried against her. “Absolutely. No contest.”

She smiles, satisfied, letting out a small sigh of triumph. “I knew it.”

“And let me say,” you start, your voice drowsy but playful, “it’s true you lost the competition to her, but in bed… no doubt, you won.”

“Yeah, right? That’s really an honor. Too bad it doesn’t pay the bills.”

You smile, pressing a little closer to her, absorbing her warmth. “Look, after tonight, I’ll make it up to you. Next week, I’m giving an interview about the great photographers of this generation… and I’ll be sure to talk about a certain Hyeju. Praise her work and invite people to check it out, too.”

“Wow, thank you so much, Mr. Art Critic. What would I do without this boost?”

“That’s what I want to know,” you reply in a tone that’s exaggeratedly serious but teasing. “But seriously, I’m excited to work with you. I bet after spending time alone… you’ll want to work with me again.”

“Oh yeah? And if I want to punch you after two hours alone? Does that count as ‘wanting to work together again’?”

You snicker. “Hey, maybe that’s part of the creative process?”

Hyeju sighs, visibly tired but also amused by the whole thing. “Okay, now shut up. Seriously. I want to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, obedient but with a hint of playfulness in your voice.

The room falls silent again, but you can’t shake the need to bother her just a little more.

“Hey, Hyeju,” you say softly.

She lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“What now?”

“Hug me tighter. Please…”

Hyeju shakes her head, incredulous, and you can almost feel her eye-rolling even without seeing it. “If you open your mouth one more time, I’ll gag you.”

You can’t resist.

“Note to self: buy a gag for Hyeju to use on me.”

She gives you a light slap on the shoulder, but in the end, her arms pull you closer, wrapping you tighter, her body relaxing against yours.

And in the quiet that follows, with only the sound of her heartbeat and gentle breathing, sleep finally begins to claim you both. There’s something about this—this way you have of bickering and laughing at the same time—that, just before drifting off, makes you realize that, in the end, maybe this will be the best partnership of your career.

And her?

Well, by the way she’s holding you, even with her tough-girl act, maybe she’s not all that bothered either.

[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.

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Fine then I want one for Olivia hye 🐺

Hyeju Girlfriend HCs

SFW HCs

Playful but she always means well.

She isn’t a big fan of skinship but secretly does crave your touch more than she’d admit.

She doesn’t mind being affectionate with you though, giving you quick hugs and pecks.

Hyeju is so competitive in everything she does especially if it’s with you.

She loves competing in video games with you especially since she tends to win most of the times.

She can be mean with words sometimes though she’ll be quick to apologize.

She gets really passionate about the things she likes and can talk about it for hours.

She likes to do puzzles occasionally because it helps her keep fresh.

Hyeju likes to go on walks with you and her dog.

The two of you go out to eat frequently, trying out different foods, cuisines and places

NSFW HCs

She is a switch, being the top or bottom depending on her mood.

She likes slow passionate make out sessions.

She becomes an aggressive dom when she’s stressed or annoyed, wanting to use you to let her frustrations out.

She likes to add some spice when you both are competing especially if it’s video games, “the loser has to go down on the winner” or something of the like.

A huge tease, likes to edge you for a bit before letting you cum.

She is quite flexible and you both tend to make use of that especially when you are on top.

Hyeju likes a bit of exhibitionism which surprised you but you don’t have any complaints

Occasionally she feels quite smug and bratty which means depending on whether she’s being the sub or dom, she’ll either be degrading you or wants to be degraded by you.

Vivi walking in Hyeju’s hotel room and finding her getting eaten out by you wasn’t in her plans and she screamed in shock. It caused quite a ruckus and alot of explaining before things calmed down.

Now you can’t even look at the other members without feeling embarrassed even though Hyeju tells you it’s ok.

[fillinforlater]

It’s that time of the year again. What are some of your favorite smuts released in 2023?

Monday of Appreciation: Part 104

Hello everyone, Smite here!

2023 is coming to a close and it's been quite the year, a mixture of "this is a bridge year for greater things to come" and "WE LIVIN' NOW MF!" What is a bit different this year is that the highs weren't as high and the lows weren't as low compared to previous years---maybe that is just me getting older, maybe it's hindsight. Either way, I'm good and this year was good.

But some things are more than just good. I'm of course talking about these writers and their stories that I have featured today. All of them deserve special mention, but I want to focus on two of them specifically.

In a year of great, fantastic and already legendary fics, these two stand out.

Without further ado, let's dive into the final MoA of this year:

-1-

@fanfiction4sooya: Can't Save You Now ft. Chaewon, Kazuha, Sakura

I- I- I just read the damn tags and new I one day had to give this a shot. ff4sooya has crazy ideas, futa galore, different dynamics and kinks, which is SO MY THING. This has Mommy and Daddy involved in an absurd (and absurdly hot) threesome that I couldn't take my eyes off.

Now I definitely need to read more and you should too because I bet there are a bunch of Masterpieces in that long Masterlist!

-2-

@iznsfw: Drunken ft. Olivia Hye

Is it really a Monday of Appreciation post without IZ?

Seriously, what this genius is able to cook up in a commission or in the currently ongoing (HYPE) IZ DAYS OF CHRISTMAS is absolutely incredible. We have long stories with in depth characters and love drama that ends not only smuttily but sweetly. Who the fuck needs books, when you can just binge IZ?

With "Drunken", they have once again hit it out of the FUCKIING park. There is never enough Daddy kink fics, yes, but mine seem like nonsensical cringe porn compared to this beauty of a piece. I love how it plays with my heart, no I'm not crying---okay, now that is hot.

Let me change that: there is three very fucking special stories today!

(I think this might even be better than Levi's Hyeju, wtf)

-3-

@cataboliac: Enkindle ft. Wendy

Firstly: I LOVE YOU CATA, BIG QT!

Secondly: "Enkindle" feels a bit like coming home, like a day in Paradise, like the one person that shines so bright in your life that you don't want it to go. And you know, that is the great thing: this might be Cata's final fic, the farewell, but not only is his life gonna be great and he'll be super happy - we also get to read this again and again, and I'm sure I will one day.

Thank you, Cata, for hanging around!

Thirdly: I'M GONNA KISS YOU, CATA!

-4-

@writerpeach: Delectation ft. Wonyoung, Yujin

1.000 Notes, and it's still not enough for what is my pick for fic of the year (FOTY? FOOTY? There is a scene like that, yep). IZ*ONE truly never dies, but it is IVE and these absolute super stars, bomb shells with flawless faces and different, yet irresistible bodies that have us in a frenzy.

Talking about frenzy, all those 30,699 words are a frenzy. I thought Peach would set it up with a long and painful tease that has us edging the entire time BUT NOPE this has so much fucking smut, so many lines of neediness and horniness, it is impossible to finish in one try or two tries or... I dunno, seven-hundred tries?

It's detailed, it's straight forward, it's sex from every fucking angle, I can never get tired of this. I will go so far and say this is Peach's magnum opus, the GOAT fic by the GOAT writer. At least for that day, I can say this without a doubt.

Peach, you are crazy and thank you for that <3

#PeachPavedTheWay #AnnyeongzForDaddy

[a-casual-kpopfan]

Concert Joy - Hyeju

You are uncomfortable.

“Oh my god, I can’t contain my excitement!”

“Me too! I’ve been waiting for this day for so long!”

It’s not as if you aren’t looking forward to the concert. Let it be known that you were one of the earliest people to book the tickets, right as the website opens. It’s just…

“Kya! I can’t wait! I’m going to see him up close!”

You bought the tickets so that you can come here and enjoy the music and live performances from one of your favorite artists, and not listen to almost 100 thousand people yelling their lungs out due to excitement.

If you had it your way, you would have been content to just stay at home and wait for some low-quality videos that will be uploaded later on YouTube. But things rarely ever go your way, well, at least when it comes to her.

“Isn’t this exciting, hun?” Directly to your right you can see your girlfriend’s excited face as she looks around in awe of the venue, and the numbers of people surrounding her.

“Well,” you take a few minutes to formulate an answer in your mind. “Partially. You do know I prefer somewhere quiet to enjoy music.”

“Don’t be such a party pooper.” Hyeju scrunches her face. “You can’t always hide inside the house; you need to go out and experience things like this as well.”

You hum at her answer, chuckling slightly. “You’re making me sound like I’m a shut in.”

“Well, you’re basically one.” Hyeju snickers, earning a flick on her forehead, courtesy of you. “Hey!”

“Am not. I just don’t like going to crowded place.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. But you must admit, this place is so huge.” Knowing that staying on the current topic might just bring your mood down, Hyeju diverts to a different one. “How many people can this place hold?”

“As of now, we have more or less 100 thousand people in the venue.”

“100 thousand people, just to see a single person perform…” Hyeju falls silent at the thought, seemingly thinking of something.

“What’s on your mind?” Seeing your excited girlfriend’s mood suddenly fall off worries you for a bit, especially when it’s her who wants to attend the concert in the first place.

“Nothing, really. It’s just” Hyeju pauses, looking around “I don’t know, I’m just jealous, in a way? Like, imagine 100 thousand people gathering in one place to see you perform, how would that feel I can’t even imagine.”

“Well, maybe you should have auditioned to become an idol back then.” You chuckle, waiting to see Hyeju’s elbow hitting your arm as per usual. But instead of that, you are met with a crestfallen Hyeju, who’s fidgeting with her hands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” You lean against her, placing a soft kiss on top of her head along with your apology.

Hyeju remains silent, which worries you greatly since the girl has never let you off without a snarky comment of her own. Her silence speaks volume, and that means you fucked up.

Fortunately for you, it is right then that the concert started with the idol walking onto the stage, giving you an excuse to brighten Hyeju’s mood up.

-----

Your ears are in pain.

And not just your ears, you can feel your heart beating loudly to each beat of the music, which can be said a lot about your current state of being. Many associate that feeling with excitement, with enthusiasm and exhilaration.

But not for you, you feel suffocated, and overwhelmed. You feel exhausted from your heart beating so loudly, and you feel that your eardrums are ringing loudly, giving you fear that they might erupt at any given moment with all the yelling around you.

Surrounding you on all sides is a sea of excited people yelling their lungs out to cheer for the idol. your girlfriend included. It truly didn’t take much to cheer her up. One minute into the first song, and she is already singing along with her low, but warm voice that you can barely appreciate with all the other voices from the surrounding audience. Really now, why is it so hard for a guy to appreciate his girlfriend’s voice?

Of course, with all the loud music and yelling around you means that you can’t help but focus onto the performance itself instead of distractedly falling into your own thoughts like usual. While the performances are good, you can’t help but lament the fact that you can’t really hear it all that well with the yelling mixed in. You’ll have to watch it again on YouTube then.

But then, you glance to your side, seeing Hyeju genuinely enjoying her time at the concert, even if her yelling is one of the main causes giving your eardrums their ringing. If Hyeju is happy, you don’t really mind.

And so, you reign over your annoyances and enjoy the music and performances, since you have already paid for it.

Things are going well, that is, until….

“Kyaa!! Oppa!”

“Oppa! Notice me!”

“Oppa! Oppa!”

“I love you, oppa!”

Oh yeah, this.

As if the combined voice of 100 thousand people isn’t enough to deafen your ears, the cheering really takes things up another notch, with how random and chaotic they are.

It’s ok, it’s fine, you think to yourself. This is normal. Fans just really love their idols, you understand. You keep telling yourself that and just try to enjoy the music.

“Oppa! I love you!” You feel your heart drop as you hear Hyeju’s voice joining in with the cheering. Despite thinking rationally to yourself that this is normal, you can’t help but be shocked a bit.

How long did it take her to say it to you? How long did you have to wait to hear it from her own voice? And this idol just…gets to hear it? Like that?

Safe to say, the rest of the concert goes by with you hardly paying attention to the performances, feeling like a puppet whose strings were cut off.

-----

After a few hours later, you now find yourself back in the comfort of your bed, resting away from the long day. Well, as best as you can of course, because your mind seems to not want to give you a break.

Tossing and turning for a bit, you end up laying on your side, thinking back to the concert and the cheering that you’ve heard. Certainly, it isn’t uncommon to hear cheering like that. You have followed the idol scene enough to know that cheering can be considered somewhat common, so your girlfriend joining in the cheering should be normal. It is completely normal.

But why do you feel so disheartened still?

Letting out a sigh, you decide that it would be better to try and sleep than torment yourself further with useless questions that only serve to keep you awake at night. However, imagine your surprise when you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your torso, and a presence pressing against your back. Didn’t she fall asleep the moment she lay down on the bed?

“Did I wake you up?” You feel her head nodding against your back.

“I’m sorry. Let’s go to sleep now-” You hold onto her arm, rubbing it gently as she hugs your chest from behind “You were thinking something again, weren’t you?” Hyeju interrupts you, sounding not as sleepy as you thought.

“I’m sorry?”

“You were thinking of something. That’s why you weren’t asleep yet.” Before you have the chance to counter, Hyeju continues “It was the cheering, wasn’t it?”

“…” Hyeju hits the bullseye, making your tongue tied for a while.

Taking your silence as confirmation, she then rolls you onto your back as she leans her body up, resting her arms underneath her chin as her eyes look at you, smiling gently.

“I was caught up in the moments so much, I failed to realize that I hurt you unintentionally. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s not your fault. I was just being dramatic, as usual.” You manage to say something, your hands reaching up stroke her messy hair gently. Hyeju leans slightly against your palm, humming a bit.

“You know. I realized something at the concert.” She says, with you raising an eyebrow as your response.

“You know people always say that idols are humans too, and that they deserve to be respected and not to be put on a pedestal.” You are losing her more and more as she goes on. “But a part of me believes that: being an idol means that you are already putting yourself on the pedestal to be admired by everyone, to show your best self to the whole world.”

“Uhm-” You are once again interrupted by Hyeju placing a finger on your lips.

“Shush, let me finish please.” You nod. “Thank you hun. So, what I was saying is that idols are meant to be admired and appreciated from afar. They do not know each one of their fans, and they can’t be blamed for that. You can love them all you want, but inevitably they can’t reciprocate it. Because they might not even know who you are.”

 Hyeju head lowers down to your chest, her ears resting right above your heart, feeling every beat of it. “Me cheering for him like that doesn’t mean that I truly love him the way that I love you. I am not delusional enough to think that one day my favorite idol might notice me thanks to some random luck, and he magically falls for me. That just isn’t happening.” Her hand finds its way to yours, intertwining softly.

“The love I have for him, simply is the admiration and appreciation I have for him as a fan for all his music and effort. That’s it.” Her head is raised again, now hovering above your face, as you can feel her shoulder length tickling your face a bit, but you don’t mind, as you gaze into her eyes.

“Honey, the love I have for you, is indescribable. I love you with everything you do, no matter how big or small, no matter how smart or stupid.” She smiles, ever so gently. “With you, I can be myself wholly, without afraid of showing you my best or worst, because you’ve already seen and embraced me for who I am.” She lowers ever so slightly, your lips touching for a quick kiss. “An idol might never reciprocate the love I have for them, but you are different. When idols inevitably retire, new ones shall replace the old. But no one can ever replace you.”

“I love you, so, so much. I’m sorry for making you worried, but I’m also thankful that you indulged me so much.” Without waiting to hear your reply, she places her head at the crook of your neck, digging herself deeper into you.

“I love you too.” You finally process enough of her words to utter three words. Yet she can feel your sincerity. Of course, she can, she’s your girlfriend.

“That is obvious, stupid. Let’s get some sleep.”

Wordlessly, you embrace Hyeju, laying there listening to her breathing until it becomes even again, before managing to slip into sleep, your mind truly at ease.

What is but a few simple cheering when you already have her heart, and she yours? ~~~~~~

A/N: A little piece I wrote up for CKF and I hitting 2k followers recently, I will personally be taking a break from writing as life is catching up to me. I'm sure CKF can handle things without me for a little bit.

Till we meet again. - Ghost

[gowonders]

catching up with stuff on my dashboard and i saw that hyeju with a guitar pic so hear me out, rockstar hyeju who has her own band and rockstar hyeju who spots you in the crowd and invites you backstage for….something…

AHAUAIHAVENAKAK. the amount of times i’ve thought of rockstar hyeju is crazyyy >_< she fits the concept soo well.. and she is totally the type to fuck a fan backstage tbh.. it boosts her ego sooo muchhh.. lemme elaborate bae

warnings: english isn’t my first language, fem reader,band leader!dom (maybee switch???) hyeju, loossemble is actually a rock band, but other members aren’t really mentioned a lot , yves is your friend, oral (hyeju rec.) fingering (reader rec.), edging, thigh riding (reader rec.), hyeju gets jealous for a sec ^_^, marking, lmk if i missed any!!

minors dni

a loud “i hope you’re all enjoying the show!” rings throughout the venue, triggering screams and cheers through the crowd as the intro to day by day plays. from who? hyeju, your not-so-secret celebrity crush.

“but yvessss, hear me out!” you plead, holding your phone out to show your best friend the new selfies that hyeju just posted. and she just hums and shrugs in response. “mm.. she’s pretty i guess!” she says nonchalantly, taking a sip of her iced coffee. “you guess??? it’s son hyeju you’re talking about. she isn’t ‘i guess she’s pretty’ material!” you defend her almost like you actually know her.

yves sighs and shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she places the plastic cup back on the table. “look, yn.. if you really wanna see this chick so bad, i may or may not have a friend who’s also in loossemble. gowon could easily get you tickets, maybe even get you pretty close for the next show!” she offers, her expression acting like it’s nothing. “wait- are you serious? you’d do that for me?? could you??” you ask, eyes wide as you’re about to practically jump on the table. “yeah, i’ll do it right now.”

which is how you’re here, trapped in the pit with other fans bumping into eachother, hands reaching out to touch any of the members, even for a split second the second one of the girls met your section.

but one girl was particularly having fun near your section. none other than your celebrity crush.. hyeju. bringing her little breaks to where you could see her up close, to where you could see the blisters on her fingers from her guitar, and she especially had fun holding her fans hands, but she lingered on one especially— yours.

when she had a small break, she got your attention best she could, mouthing a ‘stay here after the show.’ before she’s going back to playing a sweet instrumental for the other girls, her dreamy vocals coming in every so often too. it was such a perfect night.. and it was about to get a hell of a lot better.

regrettably, the night came to an end. the last song fading to an end as hyeju bows and waves to her crowd. “wishing you all and excellent night! hope you enjoyed the show!” she yells, walking across the stage to make sure every section gets a proper goodbye.. especially yours, she lingers around it for a few seconds, nodding her head to you to make sure you actually stay. and stay you do.

as the venue clears out, your nerves rise more and more. what if she was talking to some other fan? you hang around the side of the area, nails tapping on your thighs nervously, mind racing with thoughts. until they stop when you feel a hand wrap around your wrist. it’s hyeju.

you could honestly die right then and there. the way she nods her head to follow her as she keeps a tight grip on your wrist, pulling you backstage. “what’s your name?” she asks, leaning her head back as she walks ahead of you. “u-uh.. yn!” you stutter, blushing at how quick this is all going. “hm, cute. nice to know the name of the girl who’s about to eat me out.” she says confidently, pulling you into the dressing room quickly, locking the door behind her. “i’m gonna do what??” you say, eyes darting around the somewhat small room. “surprised you haven’t guessed yet. you haven’t heard the rumor of how i get rid of stress after shows?” she chuckles, patting your shoulder as she leans against the door. “i- um..!!!!!!!” you sputter, eyes trying to look at anywhere but her. hyeju. your literal celebrity crush. the one who’s about ‘relieve her stress’.

she smiles and rolls her eyes, hand reaching up to your hair to push you down to your knees. “fucking ruin me, babe. who knows, maybe i’ll let you ride my thigh if you do well-“ before she can even finish her sentence, you’re agreeing, fingers gliding under the waistband of her skirt and pressing kisses on her thighs. “okay… you don’t have to. just wanna help you.” you mutter against the skin, looking up at her. “mmhm… don’t leave me waiting now.” she says, fingers running through your hair.

and with that, your fingers are hooked under her waistband, pulling her skirt and panties down to her ankles, and as you do so, a small pang of guilt hits you. you’re literally just a one night stand for some girl who knows you like her.. well.. hyeju isn’t just some girl.. so maybe it’s not that bad..

you place small pecks on her thighs before finally connecting your lips to her core, which has her gripping your hair tighter and her hips bucking against your face, which leaves you whimpering against her as your tongue goes in and out of her, leaving her a moaning mess. “p-please.. w-what’s your name?” she whines out. “never mind… just- you’re doing so good, b-baby..!!” she squeaks, thighs squeezing around your head as you continue her work on her. your hands glide up and down her thighs, before one of your hands snake up her thigh, fingers teasing at her entrance.

her eyes flutter shut at the feeling, a moan leaving her lips as your fingers go in and out of her, plus the added feeling of your lips on her just has her going crazy.. “um.. i’m close-“ she mumbles, grip tightening on your hair, which has you giggling against her. her hips are ever so slightly bucking into your face as she chases her release, and who are you to stop her?? with that, her release crashes into her like a wall of bricks, a broken whine leaving her lips as you help her ride out her high, and as she calms, a string of praises leave her as her fingers haphazardly run through your hair.

after a moment, hyeju calms down enough to sit down on a chair, pulling you up from you knees and bringing you to sit on her lap, shakily slotting hee thigh between yours. she looks up at you, and you notice how flushed her cheeks are before she speaks quietly, a tone of dominance back in her voice. “…fucking let me ruin you, baby. you did so well, gotta return the favor.” her hands are running all up your sides, before her experienced hands are sliding your panties off and tossing them to the table next to her.

her callused fingertips run down your slit, a low chuckle leaving her as she shakes her head. “you’re so wet.. jesusssss. i know you’re into me, but like.. all you did was eat me out. so needy..” hyeju teases, and you just whine in response, turning your head away. “ah ah…” she starts, fingers gripping your chin before turning your gaze back to her. “keep your eyes on me, baby.” she snaps, fingers inserting you in one fast motion, drawing a broken whine from you. “hyeju-“ you whine, but hyeju cuts you off. “what? you want me to stop?” she taunts, another low chuckle leaving her. “no, noooo please don’t stop!!” you whine, hands weakly pawing at her. “i won’t baby, i won’t… um.. how about you tell me about yourself? you know.. like why you like the band and stuff.” she says nonchalantly, almost like she isnt even fingering you and you’re not slowly unraveling on her lap right now..???!?? “u-um- well.. i’ve liked your band for a while.. m-maybe a f-few y-“ you cut yourself off with your own moan, and hyeju coos before she speaks again. “aaah, i probably should’ve mentioned this, if you stop talking, i’ll stop. so don’t mess up~”

this is going to be torture. “o-oh.. right. um. i think y-you’re definitely my favorite.. but i- i like hyunjin, too!” her fingers thrusts up into you harder, a tsk leaving her as she shakes her head. “nottttt the right thing to say to the girl who’s fucking you.. plus what’s wrong with just me? huh? you want her to fuck you instead?” she says in a rather mad voice, her fingers thrusting into you with reckless abandon at this point. “no-! no- only you!!” you whine, fingers digging into her shoulder. “mhm… that’s what i thought. keep talking, baby.” she scoffs, her gaze falling to the side for a second as she still uses you with what seems to be literally all of her arm strength. “u-ummm.. i don’t know.. i really like your music.. you’re really good at making it.. and you’re really pretty..!! a-and you have good selfies and outfits and you’re actually so c-charming it’s crazy.” you’re rambling.. but it’s not your fault you can barely think straight.

hyejus grows a small smile as she looks back up at you. “awww, really?” she coos. of course. she knows that so many people think that of her. but it reallyyy boosts her ego. and it’s definitely shown in the way she adds another finger, slowly easing it in before continuing her pace from before. catching you off guard, you can feel a heat rising in your stomach quickly and your walls fluttering as hyejus talented fingers ruin you. “i- god..! im c-close..” you mumble, and as soon as hyeju sees you reach your peak.. she pulls out.

“w-wha… hyeju…” you whine, clenching around nothing now, but hyeju just laughs and shakes her head. “what? dont go complaining yet. did you think you’d only get my fingers? that’s pathetic.” she says, easily moving you to have her thigh slotted between yours. her hands find their way to your hips, grip so hard it’s probably bruise.. “ride.” she says bluntly, and you can feel her thigh flex under you. “you- i- okay..” you whisper, the second you start to rut your hips against her, you feel like you could snap any second. especially with the way she starts to leave splotchy, purple marks on your neck and collarbone. your lips part in shock at the feeling, a light gasp leaving you. hyeju chuckles, hands guiding you to move faster on her thigh. “doing so well, baby.” she praises, a smirk on her face as she watches you slowly unravel, quick and short whines drawing out more and more.

“hyeju.. feels so good.” you whine, hiding your face in her shoulder. she just hums in approval, her grip tightening on you even more, guiding you to just keep going, we couldn’t have you stopping, right??

“wanna see you cum, can you do that for me??” she asks, one hand coming up to stroke your hair. “mhm~” you whine against her, and at this point, you’re definitely out of it. you can’t really think straight or speak coherently, and that just makes hyeju chuckle, but she isn’t teasing you about it..

you leave small pecks on her shoulder, still rocking your hips against her thigh as hyeju just helps you reach your climax. you’re getting closer, and closer.. until you feel a pressure build in your stomach, a broken whine leaving you. “i- ‘m close…!” you wail out, and hyeju doesn’t deny you it. in fact, she presses her thigh against you even more, gripping your hips so tightly, (they definitely left a bruise in the morning..) guiding you quickly against her thigh, because nothing boosts her ego more than seeing some random girl unravel for her.

“let go, baby.” she whispers, and with that, you’re finishing like you haven’t before, and you swear that for a split second, you didn’t really have much guilt about.. well getting literally ruined by your celebrity crush.

as you fell from your high, heavy breaths against her shoulder and hyeju trying to keep in her laugh at how cute you looked, she left small pecks on your cheeks, caressing them softly. for being a one-time thing.. this was oddly affectionate. she sighs a little, flipping your skirt back down, as she helps you off her lap. she leans back in her chair for a second, eyes falling on the table she threw your panties on. “hey, quick question… do you think i could keep those?”

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

hope you liked this ^_^ yes it did lowkey make me rethink my whole life but this was so fun to write!! thank you for the ask !

[hyeitsju]

Hyeju hcs!! (SFW)

(Hyeju x FEM READER)

I see her as a really caring person but whenever she shows it she’s sarcastic.

She’s DEFINITELY the type to be shopping with you and hear you say you think something’s pretty and immediately get 3 of it, no questions asked.

Her laugh is the best sound in the world

She loves hugs but would almost never initiate one.

Whenever you try and hug her she would pretend to not like it.

Holding hands is a MUST.

Actually, just anything that involves her touching you.

Hand on thigh, arm around waist or shoulder, your legs on her lap, arms intertwined, anything of the sort, hyeju can’t live without.

She needs to be touching you in some way shape or form.

Loves playing video games with you.

Even if you don’t exactly know what your doing..

She just loves your presence.

Could never text you while she’s in the dorm because the second she showed even a sliver of happiness, she would be teased by everyone.

Hyeju rarely brang you to the dorms, almost always at your place because if she brang you over it was either way too loud or too quiet because everyone was trying to listen in.

She definitely loves cuddling but would NEVER admit it, no amount of money could make her.

Whenever she’s stressed out or physically/mentally exhausted, she will rest her head on your lap and have your hands run through her hair and she’s asleep and calm in minutes.

I just know she loves when you play with her hair.

Gets sooo jealous, sooo easily.

Doesn’t even try and hide it either.

Such a softie for you but refuses to admit it, it’s so cute

Would really do anything for you but would act reluctant about it.

Her kisses are the BEST.

She loves kissing you, it’s like her favorite thing to do.

She loves making out to be specific.

She kisses like her life depends on it.

With you on her lap or sitting on the couch or bed next to her.

And ofc she has to be touching you in some way.

Whether that be a hand on your cheek or thigh or waist, she doesn’t care.

She just loves loving you.

Sorry this is really short and sucks, I can’t write for shit. Please request some stuff, y’all!!

[miorrtae]

NEWS FLASH ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི TAEYEON SMAU

NF 06

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[royaltysuite]

To all my (formerly known as LOONA) Loossemble, ARTMS, Yves, CHUU fans - whose ready for the release of Loossemble's newest mini album?

I just listened to the highlight medley that was released on YouTube like 12 minutes ago of me posting this and let me just tell you...

THIS IS GONNA BE A BANGER ALBUM!!! My biases Vivi and Hyeju look so good in this era and to know that they helped work on this album as well makes it even more exciting for the release to be dropped.