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#a month and a half of exams god
didyousaykfc · 1 year
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a little late but good luck for your exams!! :D
Thank you! Just finished the last one actually 🥳🥳🥳
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andreagrimes · 4 months
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mwagneto · 1 year
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im finally done with all my exams this was literally the most exhausting month/2 months of my fucking life. and i get one day off bc im doing something on literally every other day but that's gonna be fun im not complaining
#im finally gonna see my friends againnn my god#i literally only saw them during exams and i haven't seen my pre uni friends since summer it's DIRE#i have to squeeze visiting my sister and hanging out with 2 of them into one day coz otherwise it#literally wouldn't fit anywhere else MDMDKDMDNHD christ#and then on Wednesday.... heh😏#barking#my fucking god i need to fit 100000 years of sleep into today coz im lit rally gonna be busy as hell#it's so annoying coz I'm rly happy i finally get to hang out properly with everyone again#but at the same time im like why did you plan stuff when you could just sleep and relax:/#NO i literally miss them so much and I'd just be bored at home anyway#I'd have pretty much the whole month off but somehow i managed to cram it full of stuff and im#also traveling on Wednesday and wont be back til late February which im also kinda all over the#place about coz im so excited but im also like mad at myself for leaving instead of#enjoying being home alone with nothing to do finally but yk. I'd just be bored#also the month/2 months thing all but one of my exams was in the past 30 days but i#had an insane december too with like 50 assignments an exam sickness 3 birthdays christmas and#traveling to someone's house in a different city for half a week and like a bunch of other shit im forgetting#point is my fucking GOD I'm having fun but i need a fucking break for real I'm running myself into the ground#at least im done with these stupid Fucking exams and my average of seminar + lecture grades is#gonna be like 4.0 which is beyond perfect i thought I'd get like 2.5 lmfaooooo#(grades go from 1 to 5‚ 1 is fail 2 is pass 3 is satisfactory 4 is good 5 is excellent)#(like that's literally their official names that's not me calling them that djdnridjeidjdj)#i thought i just wouldn't study at all and skirt by with 3s and 4s like i usually do but i#actually got a lot of 5s im amazed. like genuinely who am i#anyway this is long lmao tldr sorry i haven't been on much im just constantly busy lmao😭#oh and also im not even going to meet my pre uni friends coz neither me or them have any fawking time
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lupvium · 1 year
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today marks my 8th month without self harming !! everyone tell me abt how much of a big brave boy i am NOW
#SORRY LMAOOO#this is kinda ironic to say but im actually feeling absolutely horrible today for a plethora of reasons#this month was actually really awful for me#ive basically fucked my head trying to survive exam week last week#and now we are in a one week break which would be good for me#BUT as we all know the universe wants me fucking dead so yesterday my friend from three cities over told me he wont be able to visit me thi#this week . which was basically the only thing i had that was worth holding on to this month. we were supposed to meet three hours ago but#due to Circumstances we couldnt. and i spent the entire day crying to myself as i did homework#well thats a half truth. i spent the entire day crying and only did homework for an hour or so#and then went on to watch videos about how awful it is to live in turkey#so like . ! not a great day !#the only thing keeping me from going back to cutting myself is this stupid no self harm streak honestly and thats so pathetic to admit#like how fucking pathetic it is that the only reason i dont physically hurt myself anymore is so i can satisfy my ocd. what the fuck#i just . whenever i start loving something it immediately shatters into a million pieces cutting into my flesh and drawing blood#whats the fucking point anymore#whats the fucking point#btw if anyones still reading this . which holy shit why would you do that LMAO but thanks for caring i guess#if anyones still readig this id assume youre worried abt me to which id say dont be . i havent physically harmed myself today and im not#planning on it. but GOD IS IT FUCKING HARD !!!!!!!!!!!#IM TRYING SO HARD#i thibk if i let loose and cut myself even once i would go right back into walking around like a fucking tiger so like . idk maybe this#no sh streak thing is good for me ? who wouldve known#oh also i fought with z too but we made up but im still sad abt it#i just feel like nobody appreciates how much i try#it just sometimes feels like no one sees how desperately i try everyday to make this living thing work. i feel under appreciated for my#efforts of living#ive been crying all day and nobody cared. no matyer how hard i try to make my voice heard and to tell my struggled it just gets drowned out#but its fine. ill be a black crow in my next life. ill fly over and off this earth. or whatever girls rituals said#idk im gonna keep living and keep trying no matter how hard it gets#i need to see this pathetic life to the end
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jovalencia · 1 year
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everybody who has talked to me in the last 72 hours has experienced me on the verge of a breakdown and tbh I would feel bad but like. girl I’m not partying rn
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okkottsus · 1 year
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these last few days were literal hell bc of me having to cram 3 books worth of knowledge into one week due to my procrastination curse, but will i learn my lesson? no, since i still passed the exam 
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Ohh noo… I may have just made the Fuck Up™️ of all Fuck Ups — I won’t know for sure until tomorrow, but I may have severely fucked myself over lads lmao
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purplespacecats · 2 years
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jesus fuck, i may have to schlep to fucking ottawa just to get my immigration medical exam done in time
bc you have to get it done within 30 days of immigration canada giving you a notice about it for no fucking reason other than to weed more people out over bullshit technicalities
and you can only get it done by Approved Immigration Physicians of which there are very few and all of the ones in montreal i've successfully contacted are all booked for the whole month so???? hhhhh road trip i guess 🙃
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theircrookedheart · 2 years
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Apparently my room has gotten so bad my cousin offered to help me clean up and asked if I was depressed I wish I was joking
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awkward-smirks · 2 years
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heads up: this is a long rambly diary entry post, open tags at ur own risk
#literally counting down the days to visiting my bestest friend in the entire world#the second half of summer was atrocious for me but i am so excited for my weekend trip :')#like i am telling myself that this is the trip that will heal me#i think in september im going to use my Saturdays to be dedicated study days#studying for my permit test and for my big credentialing exam#and im hoping to get dinner w my college friend group#bc one of the dudes texted me like 'we have to get dinner w our friends soon' and im like oh thank god they still like me lol#my other college friend told me she'd literally drive back to my city so we could get brunch together 🥺#i also want to see my high school friends soon#i just miss everyone so much...#my introverted and burnt out a$$ just isolated so bad for the past two months since work is my whole life now#but I don't want to let that define me#and once i start driving im going to volunteer w my city council again#bc i miss advocacy work and going down to center city#i just miss being who i was when i was productive and felt good about the work i was doing#like dont get me wrong i love what im doing at my current job#i know my work is important and has the potential to save lives#and also make healthcare a little cheaper and less repetitive for patients#but healthcare as a career was always a compromised interest between me and my parents as the eldest child#i think my real interests are in the equity of public education and food/housing insecurity and first-#*first-gen mentorship and the arts (i.e. graphic design and writing)#like im not an artsy person (my other siblings are) but i think my life has been drawn to creating#anyways i need to get out and see people again bc i will not allow myself to fall into this weird antisocial depression again#and i think it's good to start w someone who's been with me for my isolation periods for the past 7 years#and in a whole new city to get me out of this weird funk#WE'RE ALREADY PLANNING TO GET BOBA#HAHAHAHAHHAA#so so excited to be close to someone ive loved from afar for so long :')#ending post here bye :)#sandy rambling
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roaringroa · 4 months
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i feel like i’m going insane like this is going too well
#i gotta calm myself down cause we haven’t even gone on a proper date yet (will do so on tuesday!)#but we’ve been texting everyday since the party aka more than 2 weeks ago? our texts are so fun like i’ve laughed out loud multiple times?#and so flirtly like we basically just made plans to test out our new swimming suits together as soon as exams season is done??#a few days ago she sent me a pic of a dessert she made and when i said i wanted to eat it she told me i would???#and then sent me her adress ‘so i have it in the future’ like???#she is too good at this ahdlahak i’m just trying my best to match#you know what’s crazy? last year i met her for the first time and a month later saw her again at another party#and i didn’t ask her out cause i was gonna travel for like a month the week after that second party#but i kept thinking about her to the point that while i was away when my cousin came out to me and asked me if i was dating anyone etc#i told her i wasn’t but there was this girl i had met twice that if i were to meet a third time i’d ask out#and now i’m gonna see my cousin again in like a month and a half#and by then i don’t think i’ll be dating this girl or anything yet but if it goes well we’ll have had a few share of dates#and like… idk man we still need to talk about what we want out of this like if it’s nothing serious or if it’s something that could evolve#if she doesn’t want anything serious i’d have to ajust my expectations#cause i do think on my end i can see myself dating her in a few months#all of this and truth be told we still haven’t kissed shkahsoaha#tuesday…#my post#ou my god she just sent me a bikini pic i am oficcially deceased she’s too hot wtf how do i even behave i need to kiss her right now
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yuriveteran · 9 months
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this june felt like ww3 if im being honest im so glad its over
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cottonlemonade · 22 days
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Six And A Half Minutes
word count: 1608 || avg. reading time: 7 mins. (ironically)
pairing: University!AU Suna x chubby!Reader
genre: Smutty McSmutterson, teasing, nipple play, friends to lovers (?)
warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing, mentions of insecurities
synopsis: you haven‘t had sex in a while and your best friend offers to help out
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“Don’t.“
“I wasn’t doing anything.“
“I know that look. Don’t call him.“
Rintarou had just stepped out of his bathroom back to the living room to find you staring at your phone, biting your nails in thought.
“I doubt he‘s even up, it‘s almost 2am.“
“Good, then put the phone away.“
“Ha, bit rich coming from you.“
He confiscated the device of temptation, ignoring the pout that followed.
“Yer gettin’ this back when I know yer gonna behave.“ He shook his head, flicking some access water from his hair into your face - like spraying a misbehaving puppy with a water bottle.
You turned back to the TV, sinking deeper into the collar of your PJs.
Exams were finally over and to celebrate you had planned a movie marathon with your best friend. Since the news predicted a nasty storm tonight you both decided you would spend the night on his couch.
“Why call the bastard anyways?“
You shrugged, not looking at him.
“Booty call? Christ, y/n, can‘t ya just watch porn like the rest of us?“
“Eh, nothing‘s been doing it for me lately. I was so annoyed by the breakup and exhausted from studying that it‘s been well over a month since I-“, you stopped when you realized what you were saying.
He grinned. “Ya know, if you need it that badly, I‘ll step up.“
“Oh, you brave soul. I‘m good.“, you scoffed.
“Ya were just about to call a lyin‘, cheatin‘ jerk and somehow my offer is ridiculous?“
“Don‘t take this the wrong way, but I don‘t wanna fuck my best friend and I highly doubt you want that either.“
Rintarou bit back a remark, then sighed and said, “We don‘t have to have sex to make ya feel good, ya know.“
“What are you gonna do? Stare me to orgasm?“
You finally managed to look at him - he didn’t seem to be joking.
“Nah, but I‘ve been told I‘m pretty good with my hands. And mouth.“
“What are you even saying right now? I don‘t want you anywhere near…“, you vaguely gestured to your lap.
“Alright then. Bet I can make ya cum by just playin‘ with yer boobs.“
“Oh my god, you‘re serious.“
“Well yeah, thanks for noticin‘.“
You chewed your bottom lip in thought.
“What happens if you manage to make me cum?“, you asked in a small voice.
He shrugged. “Then ya owe me one.“
The offer did sound exciting and you’d be lying if you said he had never crossed your mind during intimate moments you had with yourself. But this was insane! So many things could go wrong with this. What if things would turn weird afterwards and you‘d lose him as a friend?
“If it’s too weird like this we can set a timer or somethin‘.”, he suggested, as always reading your thoughts right off your face.
“Alright… how long… do you think you need? A minute?”
“One minute?! Are ya kidding? I’m good, but not that good!”
You laughed nervously. “Fine. 3 minutes?”
“10.”
“10?! No! That’s too long.”
“Fine, 8.”
“How about 5?”
“7.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just keepin’ it realistic. 5 isn’t enough.”
“You can do it in 5.”, you said, trying to add a light encouraging tone as a joke.
He didn’t budge. “7.”
“Why 7?”
“Cause 7 minutes in heaven.”
He grinned again.
“I remember those seven minutes always being very long and awkward. 6.”
“7.”
“This is not how this compromising thing works!”
“Hey, yer the one who wants to get off.”
“Fine…” you say, feeling heat creeping into your cheeks, “6 and a half.”
“For fuck sake. Fine six and a half. But don’t complain if ya don’t cum.”
Your ears were ringing from his bluntness and you rubbed your legs together, trying to covertly get some friction.
He muted the TV and scooched closer, nodding towards your top.
You were pretty sure your whole face was bright red at this point.
“Ya gotta lift yer shirt for me or take it off, whatever ya prefer.“
The insecurities came flooding in. Sitting was not the sexiest pose you had to offer. Your belly fat rolled and bunched, then there were the stretchmarks clawing at your skin, plus you knew you had a terrible posture, making you sit like the hunchback of Notre Dame. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly and took a deep breath, slowly lifting the hem.
“Wait.“, he suddenly said and got up, hurrying out of the room.
Your shoulders sagged. Didn‘t take much for him to run for the hills. You wanted to bury your face in your hands but a few moments later he was already back, a tie in his hand.
“W-what are you doing?“, you stammered.
“Well, ya looked super uncomfortable so I figured a blindfold might help. I don‘t have a proper one so I guess my old uniform tie has to do.“
That was… surprisingly thoughtful and sweet. You smiled and relaxed a bit.
With his help you used the red tie to cover your eyes. He made sure your hair wasn‘t caught anywhere and the knot wasn‘t too tight.
“Lay back.“, he said simply. You swallowed and slowly lowered yourself until your head touched the armrest.
“Ya comfy now?“
You nodded.
“Alright.“
You heard him tapping on his phone. “Timer’s set, lift yer shirt.“
Feeling a little more confident now, you did as he told you.
The complete darkness provided by the makeshift blindfold helped a lot and the cold breeze from his aircon brushed gently over your exposed skin.
If your nipples hadn‘t already been hard from the whole conversation before, they were now.
You heard him curse, then shift on the couch. You waited in your own private darkness. The only sound was the quiet whirring of the air con.
And then your bra was pulled down and his hands were on your breasts, caressing, just on the sides at first. A gasp dropped from your lips and you shivered, arching your back into the touch.
Rintarou‘s mouth was dry. He couldn‘t believe this was real. Your skin was so much softer than he had imagined. With calloused fingers he brushed over your flesh, just teasing at first, so very pleased when, with another shudder, goosebumps started to appear on your skin. Your nipples looked so fucking tempting but he wanted to build to it. Not like he had a lot of time, but he needed to savor this. When he finally cupped your breasts he had to bite his lips to stop a new stream of curses. Pillowy and inviting he wanted nothing more than to rest his head and fall asleep. Or push his painfully hard cock between them.
He was already two minutes down. Shit.
He loved how sensitive you were to every squeeze, every brush. You really hadn‘t had any release in weeks, huh. Fuck, he wanted you. He licked his lips and lowered his head. Holding your breasts in both hands he drew circles with the tip of his tongue around your nipples.
And you moaned. Sending lust filled surges straight to his cock. He felt the twitch in his sweats. He needed you to do that again.
He moved to the other nipple, making sure to flick the abandoned one with his finger. You started to squirm and he was rewarded with another moan.
More. More. He closed his lips around you, sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the perfect little pebble in his mouth.
Oh, he was addicted to you. There was nothing else but you. He let your nipple go, only to set kisses to your skin and blow on your little pearls, wet from his saliva.
“Fuck, Rintarou…“
He was getting dizzy, his movements became needier and it took all of his remaining focus to not start rutting his stiff cock against your plush thighs.
Your whimpers and sighs were almost non-stop now and he just openly groaned with your perfect tits in his mouth now, the vibrations tickling your nipples.
Where had the time gone? When he glanced over at his phone, he only had a minute left.
He nibbled at your breasts, sucking deep red marks into the flesh. His hands, so careful and gentle at first, now became groping and he moaned loudly when his cock made accidental contact with your leg. He was not above humping you like a dog but he really needed you to cum first.
“Oh God, yes… Yes, nngh, Rintarou, fuck…“
Shit, were you close? He pinched your nipples, then let them plop out of his mouth before really latching on like his life depended on it.
Cum for me, he thought. Please.
You raised your hand and he almost came right there himself, when your fingers ran through his hair, pulling him closer to you.
“Fuck, y/n, cum for me.“, he whispered against your skin, “Ya can do it. Cum for me, baby.“
And the timer went off.
Startled by the noise you shot up, removing the blindfold.
The brightness of the lights left you disoriented for a moment. Rintarou sat before you, out of breath, flushed, disheveled. You had never seen this kind of hunger in his eyes. You felt embarrassed, fixing your bra over your slick covered breasts and lowering the hem of your shirt.
You still felt him on your skin. Why did you stop him? Maybe he would have continued, if you hadn‘t. Shit, you were so close.
While trying to avoid his eyes, your gaze landed on his sweats and the rather sizable imprint of his cock pushing against the fabric.
He didn‘t hide it. He knew you saw it. And he was waiting for your next move.
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a/n: part 2
@nyctophilicroses - covertly slides over another Suna smut fic with chubby reader
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capslocked · 5 months
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KINKVEMBER DAY: 6
[prompt: blowjob]
male reader x hyeju
12k words
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“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”
"Like what?" you ask.
"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."
You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."
“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"
"Utterly deranged."
"So wild."
-
The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.
No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.
It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.
"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."
You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."
She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."
"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"
"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"
You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."
"Fucking tell me about it."
You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.
"Want me to get you off?"
And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.
Hyeju jerks up, surprised.
"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"
The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.
“You’re absolutely nuts.”
You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.
Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.
"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.
"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.
“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.
And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.
"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."
Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.
"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.
She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"
"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."
Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.
"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."
You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.
She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."
The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.
"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."
You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.
"Don't laugh."
"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”
She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.
"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.
You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.
"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.
"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.
She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.
“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"
The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.
"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.
-
It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.
And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 
A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.
So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.
"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.
-
It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.
"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.
"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 
It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.
Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.
Or,
Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.
That's what friends are for, probably.
Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)
The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.
So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.
"You have a problem."
"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."
She waggles her eyebrows.
You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."
("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.
"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."
You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."
She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.
"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.
"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")
-
The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.
She turns toward you, quiet.
You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.
"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"
Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.
"Oh, no."
She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."
Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.
Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.
She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."
"Because."
You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.
-
You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.
"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."
"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.
She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."
She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.
"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."
Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.
And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.
"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."
When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.
(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)
"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."
You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."
-
New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.
Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.
Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.
"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.
"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.
Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.
"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"
"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."
She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.
 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 
But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:
"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"
And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -
"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"
"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.
There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.
"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."
-
The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)
Or just:
11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.
11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.
"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.
"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"
"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."
Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."
"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.
"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.
She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.
"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"
"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."
"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.
"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.
"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.
You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.
"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."
"I guess, see you soon?"
"In a bit."
(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)
-
You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.
And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.
You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -
- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.
So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.
Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"
She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.
"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."
Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."
"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.
“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”
"Like what?" you ask.
"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."
You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."
“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"
"Utterly deranged."
"So wild."
When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.
There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.
But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.
And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.
"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."
You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"
"It's no consequence, honestly."
You squint.
"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:
"Want me to get you off?"
She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?
Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.
"Alright," is the response you let out.
And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.
"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"
"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."
Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.
"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.
"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.
"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.
And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.
"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."
"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.
"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."
Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."
And she moves then, toward the bed.
So:
No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.
"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.
And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.
These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.
"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"
You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.
"- that face."
"Don't, fucking tease me-"
The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.
Wet and filthy in all the right ways.
Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.
"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"
“Which is?”
She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"
You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -
That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -
“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”
You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?
But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.
You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.
And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.
Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.
"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -
She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.
"Can you believe what's going on down here?"
"God, can you -"
"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."
"Hyeju, shit, come on -"
She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.
Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 
“Mmhm,” she hums.
It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 
"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"
You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.
"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"
Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.
Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 
And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.
"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 
Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.
"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"
Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.
And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.
You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.
"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.
But regardless:
It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -
"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"
Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -
Okay, fuck.
She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.
"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.
Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."
Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.
It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."
See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -
Except,
Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.
"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."
"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."
"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."
"Or."
"Or?"
Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -
"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?."
You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"
"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.
And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.
Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.
"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -
"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.
Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."
"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.
Sloppy, slimy-wet.
She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 
"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"
She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.
But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.
You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."
"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.
You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.
"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.
She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -
She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."
"You're ridiculous -"
She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.
There is spit fucking everywhere.
And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."
"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."
"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?
"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"
"Honestly."
"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"
"Fuck-"
"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."
Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.
There's nothing like it.
You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.
A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.
There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.
But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:
That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -
"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"
But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.
Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.
But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -
She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.
You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.
"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"
When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -
Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.
"Jesus, Hyeju-"
The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.
"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.
She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"
"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.
"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."
"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-
But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.
"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.
"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."
"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"
"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."
Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -
"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."
"Is that what we're doing?"
Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."
-
(There's got so much on her mind. 
The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.
Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.
She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.
"Fucking. God, please-"
There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-
Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:
"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")
-
“And I am… Ironman.”
Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.
The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -
Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.
You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.
There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.
As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.
"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"
She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."
And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.
Maybe it just gave you more than enough.
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0anonnymouslyours0 · 5 months
Note
a request!! i loved the scene where Spencer is giving a class and he finds out that ppl are auditing his class, and there’s a couple of girls who are kinda flirty with him
i would love a scene where his gf joins the class and sits in the back without Spencer noticing her at first, but then he does and idk maybe he can’t focus on the class because to him she’s sooo distracting. (preferably with smut at the end because i absolutely adore the way you write smut)
sure lovely! sorry this was like months overdue...
sex obvs +18
your slouched down in the very back, a questionably short skirt and half unbuttoned blouse on. spencers favourite. you haven't bothered to take out a notebook, or a laptop, to even pretend you might actually be here to learn. instead, your eyes watch spencer, only darting away when he looks up in your general direction. he looks good. very very good. dishevelled hair, which you know is partially from your morning activities, well structured navy suit. long fingers gripping the marker-
a cough bubbles in your throat, just as hes writing on the board and the class is silent. he turns in your direction, eyes widening when he spots you. smiling, you give him a teasing wave.
"right, err- so just copy this." hes frazzled now, gesturing at the board quickly and messing with his papers.
your phone buzzes.
"what are you doing?" you smile at the directness of it.
"just listening in."
he begins typing, but stops, looking up at you, eyes glancing up and down. clearing his throat, he puts his phone down.
"once your done taking notes, you can leave. these will be important for your exams so make sure you write this down."
students begin to scatter, and an suspiciously long line of girls form in front of his desk.
you get up, moving to his desk and skipping the line, ignoring the annoyed looks of the girls.
"so professor-" you cut the girl off, swinging around the corner of the desk and perching on his knee.
"oh. hi." he says, dazed at your sudden position.
"hi baby." you peck a kiss to his cheek, before getting up and standing behind him. eyeing the line of girls who are watching you.
"anymore questions?" he asks, distracted by your hand creeping down his chest from behind.
"no." the group grumbles, heading out the door.
it closes with a slam.
you turn spencers chair around. swinging your legs onto his lap.
"fuck." he breathes, taking in your thighs wrapped around his, and your little plaid skirt, and bra peeking out of your blouse.
"hey spence." you say, pecking kisses along his tilted neck.
"thought id come visit you."
"uh-huh." he stammers.
"but you just looked so good up there, so fucking hot." your hands unbutton his shirt, jacket already discarded on the ground.
"the door, its unlocked." he says, eyes blown at the sight of you.
you huff, climbing off his lap and quickly looking it. shedding your blouse, you walk back and sink to your knees in front of him.
"god-" he whispers, and you unzip his pants, shuffling them down.
"what did i do to deserve this?" his hands reach up to your hair, tugging it into a ponytail.
"did so good in your lesson baby, wanna treat you." you palm him through his boxers, before sliding them off.
placing a kiss on his tip, you run your tongue along his shaft, looking up at him, eyes wide. his head is tipped back, addams apple exposed and hair falling messily everywhere. such a pretty sight.
hes groaning, coming undone so quickly by the calculated movements of your tongue.
"fuck!" he gasps, as you pick up your pace, drawing his orgasm out.
"such a pretty girl on her knees for me." he says, fucked-out.
you smile raising off the ground and straddling his lap. his dick hardens underneath you.
"want you inside me baby.." you whisper, kissing his neck as you slide your panties to the side.
you tease your slit with his tip, before sinking down onto him with a groan.
it doesn't take much for you to both finish. messy and rushed kisses as you clean up and leave before his next class, promising more when he returns home..
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loserlvrss · 17 days
Text
꒰ 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 ꒱ 정성찬
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summary : you and sungchan have been in a situationship for some time, and the pot was finally boiling over
genre : fluff, slight angst, suggestive, sungchan x afab!reader tws : language, pet names, kiss, slightly suggestive content author notes : wrote this like 10 minutes after i woke up lmao word count : 0.8k
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you were nervous. much more nervous than you ever had been — not even your exams could compare to the feeling of dread inside your chest, caving in your lungs. your hands fought each other subconsciously as you paced the front part of your apartment.
you thought of yourself as stupid, there was nothing else to describe the feeling of embarrassment, that was now mixed with guilt.
you’d seen it. your situationship making out with another girl during your shared physical education class. you’d seen it, and you watched in disbelief until he turned his head, catching your horrified gaze.
you had no right to be making faces at the two. you had no right to be upset. he wasn’t yours, and you made it clear all those months ago that he never would be.
so, why was your heart racing so much?
even the thought of him was enough to make you feel weak in the knees. the sight of him alone enough to make you crumble where you stood. he wasn’t yours, but he made you feel the same as if he was.
maybe this new feeling was too scary and that’s why you called him over. maybe you needed him to say he liked her better for you to break it off. maybe you needed something from him that you were too afraid to ask — that you never could, and frankly, never should.
you knew his reputation. hell, everyone did. he was a player. a womanizer. anything that wasn’t loving and caring… but the way he brushed stray hairs away from your face before kissing you oh-so gently; or the way his hands moved with so much caution against you; or the way he’d call you his baby, his pretty girl, contradicted all the rumors.
maybe, they just didn’t know him like you did.
but did she? did the girl he was lip-locking earlier today experience the same man you knew? did she get the sweet princess treatment, and intimate moments that shouldn’t be shared? did she get butterflies when she saw him, the ones that flew so fast it made you nauseous?
you don’t know why that made a lump clog your throat, and an anger form in the pit of your stomach.
he shouldn’t have been anything special — just another guy — but he was special… special to you. and that terrified something new in you. something you were scared to get close to, but scared to lose all together.
in the depths of the night, when he was curled up by your side, you even wondered if this was what love was. you pretended you knew everything about anything, but when it came to the feelings he instilled in you, you were just as clueless as the rest.
a knock on the door sent you away from the what ifs, and it took a lot of strength to get your feet to move to it.
you shook ever-so-slightly as you opened it, revealing the man that wasn’t yours on the other side.
your eyes couldn’t meet his, “i-i —“
he cut you off before you had the chance, “i hated it.”
“what?”
his hands rested down by his side, and you knew he was looking down at you despite you doing the opposite. “it wasn’t you. it’ll never be you. god, you really fucked me up! do you know that, y/n? do you know that i can’t stop thinking about you in situations where i shouldn’t? when i really fucking shouldn’t.”
“i-i’m sorry?”
he fully came through the door, letting it slowly swing closed behind him. his hands were on your cheeks, forcing your eyes to meet his. this was the intimacy you were talking about. and despite it being so casual to and from anyone else, from him, it felt like a confession every time.
his voice lowered a little bit to resemble a half-whisper, “do you feel the same?” but he already knew the answer. the look in your eyes when you caught him in the act was so endearing to him, engrained in his memory, it had him reading you like his favorite book; which you were. he knew all your signs, and now he knew all your tells. “because i can’t do this anymore, and i know you said we’d never take it further, but i —“
“it’s too late, sungchan.” you admitted, finishing what he was starting, “you already have me.”
his lips were on yours faster than the words left them. he had you going up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, making the kiss deepen. his palms rested steady against your cheeks, stroking them gently with his thumb through the synchronicity.
this kiss felt different; like something inside you had snapped, setting the waterfall of emotions free. and, this time, it didn’t feel like either of you had to hold back.
he walked you backwards, never once breaking apart from you, until you both hit the couch.
“and i’m never letting you go, okay?”
you fell back first with a huff, and he climbed on top of you, settling between your parted knees. your fingers carded through his hair as you kissed so passionately, it could’ve been considered pathetic how desperate it was in reality.
your night could’ve went one of two ways; he’d love you all the same, or he’d leave you. and, tonight — and hopefully forever — you were glad it was the latter.
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