#she deserves all the success she's getting lately | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muchosbesitos · 5 months

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omg your miguel stories are tew good plz stop encouraging my obsession💀 but just in case you dont wanna listen👀... is there anyway you can do a one shot of miguel being like a laid back sugar daddy/just spoils the absolute shit out of us without giving a fuck PLEASE🙏🏾

anywaysssss love you and i wish you all the best<3

million dollar man

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: age gap (reader’s in college while miguel’s in mid thirties), handjob, and semi-public fingering

author’s note: i loved writing this request sm so thank you for allowing me to indulge 😩 wishing you the best too <33

word count: 4.8K

The rules of the website had practically imprinted in your brain with how many times you reread them- no cat-fishing relationships or scams, no low-quality photos, and to not be abusive. The rules seemed pretty simple but you couldn't help but hesitate to accept the terms, your hand hovering the cursor. "Oh fuck, just click it already," you mumbled to yourself, accepting the small box on the right corner of the screen after a couple seconds of hesitation. Your screen flooded with what seemed to be hundreds of older men, most of them actively seeking out for a sugar baby in exchange for some kind of service in return.

You'd been wanting to sign up for a sugar daddy website after noticing how empty your pantry was, a couple ramen packets sitting on the counters collecting dust. While you knew that you could be living much worse, you couldn't help but want more than eating the same food everyday. With the amount of student debt that you were crumbling under, you couldn't afford to make extravagant purchases. The job that you had managed to sustain you for your basic needs, but you were tired of simply just floating above the debt line. You found yourself with the desire to have more.

You decided to accept on the terms of the website and set up a profile, but you couldn't bring yourself to explore the options available. You stepped aside from the computer, rubbing over your eyes as you debated the reality of the situation.

You didn't have much time to regret your decision though, your phone alarm ringing with the reminder that you had to be getting ready for work soon. You shut off your computer, deciding to face the consequences of your actions at a much later time when you weren’t running late. After putting on the uniform for the ice cream shop that you worked at, you made your way out the house out to the parlor.

"I don't really see what the problem is with having a sugar daddy. You deserve more than what this place pays," one of your coworkers, Luna, told you as the two of you cleaned up the spoons from the previous shift. "You don't think I'm being a gold digger by doing it?" You asked her, wanting to get some kind of reassurance about the doubts that'd been clouding your mind since you'd joined the website.

She shrugged, walking over to take the order of an elderly woman that walked in. "If they know what they're getting into, I don't think it constitutes as being a gold digger. They know that the relationship is purely transactional," she responded to your question after the woman stepped away with her vanilla cone.

Her words rung through your mind as you sat down in front of your computer after getting off work, deciding to explore the options that were available. Most of the names shown on the website were some of Nueva York's most prominent businessmen, their name plastered onto some of the most successful buildings in the state.

You'd expected for most of the profiles to be senile men who were in the middle of a life crisis, instead getting men in their mid forties to sixties. Your nose scrunched up as you clicked through some of their profiles, most of them coming up as married with the description of 'wanting discreet fun.'

You were about to give up on your search for the night when you stumbled upon a profile of a man in his mid-thirties, one of the youngest men you'd seen in the fifteen minutes of scrolling. Miguel O'Hara. His profile revealed to you that he was divorced, his description being that he sought out for someone to spend time with in exchange for monitory compensation, a clear difference between his profile and the others you'd encountered.

To say that he was an easy swipe right was an understatement, your finger almost snapping off from how fast you clicked on your mouse. Not only was his persona more endearing than those you'd encountered, he was one of the more handsome men you'd had seen. You didn't think too much of the swipe, your eyes widening in surprise as you got the notification that it was a match.

You spent about a week talking to him about what could be expected out of the arrangement before he suggested that he take you out to a dinner. His reasoning behind the spontaneous date was that he simply wanted to see how the two connected outside of text, get a feeling of what type of person you were. As you waited for the day of the dinner to arrive, you couldn't help but be filled with anticipation and excitement.

You'd even gotten up early the day of to plan out your outfit ahead of time so you wouldn't have to do so after class, choosing to wear a pair of jeans that weren't too distressed with a black top. Scenarios of how the dinner would go riddled your mind throughout the day, your focus of what was on the board diminishing with every second that you were in the classroom.

You showed up to dinner half an hour late due to the subway not arriving at its designated time, easily finding Miguel through the crowds of people. not only was the tallest one in the room, he was also the one with the nicest attire in the place. The black button down shirt he had on accentuated the bulging muscles underneath, the material flexing to fit around him perfectly and the black slacks that he had on fit his legs to perfection.

You caught a whiff of his cologne when he stood up to shake your hand, the pure scent of him reeking of money. He pulled the chair back for you, waiting for you to take a seat before he sat back down. You couldn't help but notice how well he filled out the seat, the pure presence of him almost demanding to be seen.

"Sorry I'm late, the subway got delayed," you started off, wondering just how long he'd been here waiting for you to show up. "While I do appreciate punctuality, I understand," he responded, handing you one of the menus from the table. You picked up the menu, noticing that none of the prices were on there but rather just what the meals had to offer.

A waiter came by a couple minutes later to take the orders, Miguel ordering steak with mashed potatoes and a red wine. "I'll just get the grilled chicken with water, please," you told the waiter, handing them your menu along with Miguel’s. They nodded and stepped away, the only sound at the table being the classical music playing throughout the restaurant.

You looked down at the plate of food dumbfounded, wondering how exactly it was that rich people got full. You were half expecting for the waiter to announce that it was a prank, to come back and fill up your plate. Upon realizing that the two bites that were placed on your plate was the whole meal, you reluctantly took a bite out of it.

"So, the terms of our arrangement would be pretty simple. I'd provide you with the funds that you deem appropriate and you would provide me with your company. I'm not expecting any kind of sexual favors in return, but I wouldn't be opposed to it if you had the desire to," he told you, his tone casual as if he were just having another business arrangement. You almost choked on the water you were sipping, setting the glass back down.

"So what you're saying is that you don't want to have sex with me unless you and I wanted to," you repeated back to him, raising a brow as he nodded. "Do you mind if I ask why?" The question came out of you without much thought, his brows furrowing in exchange. You thought he wasn't going to respond to the question as his silence turned deafening, the room seeming to rise in temperature with every second that passed. "I’m looking for this certain kind of arrangement because I know what to expect from this. My daughter passed away a couple months ago and it helped me to realize that no amount of money that I have will keep anyone next to me," he responded after a couple of minutes, his words coming out with a certain kind of precision as he spoke.

You stayed quiet as you let the words stick in your brain, wondering just what exactly it was that made this man so closed off to the world. You wanted to ask him more questions, but you figured that they weren't appropriate for the setting or the arrangement that was being discussed.

"I'd start off with giving you a short allowance for now, $500 a week just to get you started. It'll increase the more that we spend time together, a little bonus if we have to show up to an event together. Obviously, iId take care of the expenses of your outfit," he added, his red eyes boring into yours like they wanted to see through your very being. “That all sounds very promising, but I think I need some time to think about it if you don't mind," you finally spoke up, watching as his eyebrows bunched up before he nodded.

"You look unsatisfied by the meal. Was it not up to your liking?" He asked after you finished up with your meal, placing a couple hundred dollar bills on the table. "No, the meal was good. thank you," you told him, giving him a tight smile as you got up from the dinner table once the waiter came over to the table. "So if it was good, why do you look unhappy?" He pushed the question further, his eyes locked on you as the two of you headed out of the restaurant.

"Like I said, there wasn't anything wrong with the food. the portions were just a bit.. questionable," you responded, your voice dropping towards the end like you were admitting something taboo. You were expecting for him to protest after what he'd just paid, not the small chuckle that escaped from his lips.

Miguel took you to a burger joint in Brooklyn, stating that 'no other place could do it quite the same.' You'd ordered yourself a burger and fries along with a milkshake, Miguel getting the same thing as you. "Thank you for saying something, the whole meal felt like an appetizer," he told you as the two of you sat down with your trays, the juiciness from the burger looking more inviting than the piece of chicken you'd eaten earlier.

"How do you rich people put up with eating like that?" You asked him, almost moaning at the taste of the burger once you took a bite. "Most of them do cocaine if I'm being frank. I normally don't eat out unless I need to so it's few times I have to subject myself to that," he explained, watching as you stole some of his french fries with amusement.

Despite the initial awkwardness that'd been present throughout the dinner, you couldn't help but enjoy talking to him as the night progressed. His dry humor was something that you were growing to like, the way that he seemed to have a response for everything that you asked/told him.

He was honest and direct, not in a way that he used to excuse what some might deem as 'rude', but in a way that seemed genuine and vulnerable. He'd taken you home after the two of you had finished up, saying that it was too dangerous for you to be taking the subway alone at this hour. You watched as he pulled out of your house, a small smile on your face as he drove away.

The doubts about the arrangement crawled back into your brain once you were alone, absentmindedly reaching over for your laptop and signing in. You weren't sure what exactly it is that you sought out for, maybe some kind of reassurance that he wouldn't get bored with you or start expecting for you to act a certain way around him.

You opened up your browser, deciding to read a Reddit thread about the experiences that some others had as being sugar babies. While some of them described the experience as something pleasant, a few posts lingered about some other girls that had a bad encounter with their sugar daddy. You decided to close your computer after a couple minutes, coming to the realization that Miguel was nothing like the men described in those awful experiences and the decision to say yes had never been so obvious before.

You weren't sure when it was that you started seeing Miguel as more than a provider, seeing him as someone that you cared about beyond what he was giving you. He'd kept true to his promise, his daily allowance now being $700 with the time that the two of you spent together. You'd started to seek him out for the littlest things that you had to do, such as going out on grocery runs or going out for lunch.

When you'd asked him to go to the grocery store with you, you'd managed to deny the growing attraction that was slowly starting to build up by simply telling yourself that you were using him since he was able to reach the top shelf. But the more that you gave a thought about where the relationship between the two of you was headed, the more that you were certain that you couldn't live with yourself if he wasn't present in your future.

You went over to his house after feeling overwhelmed with your final exams coming up, hoping that he would just be able to spare a couple minutes and hold you. "What's wrong?" He asked once he opened the door, exhaustion and anxiety coating your features. "I just need you," you responded back to him, his face softening just the slightest bit before he opened the door to let you in.

He guided you over to his couch, his hand wrapping around your shoulders as he stroked your upper arm. The two of you stayed silent for a while, simply staring at the fireplace ahead of you. "I hope I didn't disturb you," you spoke up, knowing how busy he was.

"You could never disturb me. I like having you around, you're more tolerable than the people I work with," he responded, his thumb lazily drawing circles on your arm. "I'll take that as a compliment," you murmured, leaning against him as you felt the combined heat from his body and the fireplace lulling you into a sense of peace and security. "You should. What's got your little head all worked up anyways?" He inquired, the flame from the fireplace flickering in his eyes as you looked up at him.

"I have finals coming up. And I can't really afford to fail, otherwise I'll get my scholarship taken away. I don't know, I guess I'm just anxious knowing how much is on the line," you told him, realizing just how silly your concerns sounded out loud. “I can help you out if you’re really that stressed out about them,” he suggested after a couple seconds, the movements on your arm coming to a stop. "How about this. if you pass your finals, I'll take you on a little trip to Cabo to celebrate. We'll go on a mall spree beforehand to get you ready."

True to his word, Miguel had the tickets set up for the weekend which you would be done with finals. He'd been the first person that you told about passing them, hearing him say that he was proud of you felt like an even bigger accomplishment especially after he dedicated some of time towards helping you review.

"I knew that you could do it, you're so smart," he'd told you once you shared the news with him, his big arms enveloping you in a hug as he held you close to him. It was the first time he'd hugged you, the feeling strange to the both of you as he did. The act felt unpracticed, something he hadn't done in a long time with the way that his arms awkwardly wrapped around you. Despite that minor detail, you felt invincible as he held you like nothing could touch you.

"I'm thinking about getting my nails done. Which set do you think would look better?" You asked, handing him your phone with the Pinterest board of designs you'd saved. He grabbed his glasses from his case, putting them on the bridge of his nose as he peered down at your phone.

"Isn't it all the same just in different colors?" He noted, scrolling through your phone as he tried to find a difference in the multitude of designs you'd saved. "There's somewhat of a difference in there, it's pretty subtle since I just tend to go for what i'm familiar with," you responded, putting on your seatbelt as you waited. The two of you were heading out to the mall, but you'd come up with idea of getting your nails done after getting in the car.

Miguel ended up liking a simple red design with some gemstones on the pointer and ring finger so you gave the reference photo to the lady doing your nails. You watched as she put on the gemstones with precision, your eyes flicking over to Miguel as he waited for you in the lobby.

If he was uncomfortable in this setting, he didn't show it as he scrolled through the People magazine available. You turned your attention back to your nails, an idea sparking up in your head as she started to put on the final touches to the gem design. "Do you mind putting an initial on my ring finger?" You asked her before it was too late, waiting for her to agree before you told her what letter you wanted on there.

Your hand rested on his pants as he drove, his eyes flicking down to the design and slightly widened as he noticed the small 'M' on your ring finger. "What'd you do that for?" He asked, his attention turning back to the road after a couple moments of shock. "Figured it would be a nice little detail since you were so generous in paying for them," you responded, sliding down his zipper with a bit of difficulty as you adjusted to the feeling of the acrylic once more.

You watched as he let out a shaky breath, his eyes remaining on the road ahead. "I'm driving," he warned you as you started to palm him through his boxers. "So keep your eyes on the road, Miguelito. Just feel," you reiterated, your hand squeezing around his cock slightly. “Ay Dios, nos vas a matar.” (oh god, you’re going to kill us)

You watched as he retrained himself as he drove, knuckles starting to turn white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You picked up some of the precum leaking out through the tip of his reddened cock, lathering all over the shaft as a form of lubrication. Your hand moved with ease up and down his semi-hardened length, his cock getting harder with each tug that you gave him.

He let out a small hiss as he felt one of your nails brush up against the underside of his cock, the area a bit sensitive for him. He'd pay for your nails hundreds of times over and over if it meant he got to see them wrapped around his cock with his initial on them.

You pulled your hand once Miguel was nearing the mall, drying your hand of the sticky residue with a piece of tissue paper he had in the glove box. "Now you decide to stop?" He asked, maneuvering his way into the parking lot with such ease, parking in reverse in what seemed to be mere seconds. If it were up to you, you would've taken about twenty minutes to do the task before eventually giving up.

Your attention went back to the bulge in his pants, his cock still hard from your previous ministrations. "Well, maybe you'll get more motivated to get out of the mall now," you suggested, getting out of the car as you dusted off your attire. Miguel rolled his eyes as he followed behind you throughout the mall, his hand making the slightest contact with yours.

You stumbled into a Gucci store after a while of walking through the mall, immediately drawn into the designs of the bags. You looked around, one of them in particular catching your eye. The design of the bag was beautiful yet simple, a black leather handbag in the shape of a heart. Your eyes widened as you looked at the price tag attached, your hands making quick work to return it to the shelf.

Before you could get the chance though, Miguel grabbed your hand and turned your attention to him. "What's wrong with the bag? You don't like it?" He asked as he looked at you, expecting for some kind of reasonable answer. "No, there's nothing wrong. it's just expensive," you responded, avoiding eye contact with him as you stepped away from the shelf.

"Well, how much is it?" You heard him ask behind you before you got the chance to walk away too far, his hands reaching up for the purse. "It's almost five grand and that's not including tax. It's fine, I don't need a pu-," you started off but you got quickly interrupted when Miguel called over a sales associate to get him the bag from the back. "I thought you said it was expensive, mi cielo," he simply stated before he went off to check out with the associate that had the bag in a dust bag, taking his black amex card from his pocket as the transaction processed. You stood behind, watching as he paid for the bag with seemingly no hesitation.

The rational side of you threatened to come out, wanting to tell him that he could be spending those five thousand on something other than a bag, but you pursed your lips and watched the scene unfurling in front of you. You remembered the whole point of why'd you even joined the sugar daddy website, wanting the opportunity at having nice things.

"You may not need a purse, but your eyes practically lit up when you saw this one. I'm here so you don't have to resign to that disappointment that you've grown used to," he told you as the two of you walked out of the store, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Well, thank you. I really did like the bag,” you told him, leaning up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. You walked around the mall, eyes glancing around the different stores before eventually walking into Nordstrom.

You picked out a couple pieces for the trip that you'd need, such as a couple dresses, skirts, and bikinis for the warm weather you’d be exposed to. Miguel went with you to the fitting rooms, sitting down on the couches outside as he waited for you to finish up. You'd changed into the shirt and skirt that you'd pulled into the dressing room, looking at yourself reflected on the body-length mirror.

You couldn't deny that the skirt made every part of your legs look good, from your thighs to your ass. Even though you were confident that Miguel would end up liking it, you still decided to call him in to get his opinion. He opened up the door as discretely as he could, glancing around to make sure that no associates were nearby as he stepped inside.

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh as the giant of a man in front of you was rendered speechless, eyes raking up and down your figure as he took you in. "Te ves tan hermosa dressed like that," he finally spoke up after a couple seconds, his hands wrapping around your waist as he held you close to his body. (you look so gorgeous)

You weren't completely sure what the first part of his sentence meant, but you could guess that it was something good based on the tone of endearment that he used and the way that he couldn't keep his hands off you. "Can you be quiet for me?" He asked, looking at you through the mirror as his hands splayed on your stomach. The question sounded more like he was telling you to be quiet, so you simply nodded along and watched him sit down on the small stool.

Miguel placed you down on his clothed thigh, your legs spread out for him as your back fell flush against his toned chest. His hand made his way down your body, your skirt being pushed up as he did so. He cupped your clothed cunt, the expense of his hand capturing most of it.

"You look so pretty when you're all like this. All needy and just for me," he murmured into your ear, one of his hands holding you in place as the other one slid the black pair of panties you'd chosen to wear. One of his fingers went inside your cunt, the tightness of your walls engulfing it completely as he pushed it deeper inside of you. Your slick coated his finger as he opened you up in a way that only he could, reaching places that even some of your toys couldn't reach.

"Excuse me, but do you need some help in there? you've been in there for an awful long time," an associate called out, knocking on your door. Your eyes widened at the prospect of getting caught in this position, a small muffled gasp making its way out of you. "No, the dress is just stuck," you called out, hoping your voice didn't come out as needy as it sounded to your own ears.

"Well I can come in there and help you out. Sorry, it's just that we have a line forming," the associate told you, her hand coming to the doorknob and slightly shaking it as if she were trying to open it. Her attempts failed since the door was still locked on your end, the rattling of the knob stopping a couple seconds later.

You were half expecting him to remove his hand, but his fingers remained deep inside of your cunt as he looked down at you. "You weren't playing fair in the car so why should I have to play fair?" He spoke just low enough for you to hear, a hint of amusement as he spoke. You struggled to keep your voice even as you spoke, resisting the urge to just go ahead and let a moan rip out.

"Uh no, thank you though. It's just a zipper but it's almost off," you told the sales associate, letting out a small sigh of relief as the clacking of her heels retreated from the dressing rooms. Miguel pushed another one of his fingers into your cunt, moving them in a scissoring motion before he curled them upwards to reach that spot inside of you.

Your toes curled and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt his thumb make contact with your clit, the nub already starting to stimulate just by the touch of his finger. You felt your clit throb against his fingers as he rubbed small circles on it, the rhythm in sync with the fingers he was pushing inside of you.

Your back flushed against his chest as you felt yourself getting closer to that sweet release of euphoria, your shaky breaths and whimpers getting muffled as you pressed the palm of your hand against your mouth. Just as you were approaching that all too familiar release, Miguel pulled his hands away quickly.

You were about to protest before remembering what you'd done in the car, the words dying in your throat as you got up from his lap. "Touché," you mumbled as you started taking off the clothes that you'd been trying on, watching as he wiped his hand off on a handkerchief. Miguel covered up your body with his as he stepped out of the dressing room, closing the door quickly afterwards.

"Sorry about that, she called me into help her with the zipper. stupid thing wouldn't budge," you heard him speak outside, surely talking to the associate who must be growing impatient with every second that you spent inside. You stepped back into your clothes, carrying the choices that you'd picked out as you went to go join Miguel at the checkout line.

Needless to say, the attire that you'd showed Miguel proved to be a definite yes. He gladly paid for the rest of your clothes, not batting an eye as the total came out to be two thousand. "Thank you for the excellent customer service. The concern that you show for your consumers is truly admirable," he noted as the associate handed him back his card, a small smirk creeping up on his lips as he also received the shopping bag. The two of you made your way out of the store, completing the small checklist that the two of you had made for what was needed in order to have a successful trip.

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tia-222 · 6 months

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My void sucess story

HII TIA!!! I can barely contain my excitement as I type this but I got into the void and manifesting my dream life. You @gorgeouslypink and @charmedreincarnation are my absolutely favorite blogs, and I couldn’t have done it without y’all. I think charm and pink are on break so I’m gonna send this to you I hope that’s okay.

Quick backstory: I’ve been in this community since the OGs, angel, Cleo, maya etc. I’ve seen all the dumb drama, the liars, the successful people, the exposing, and etc. I’m just sharing this because people think having bad experiences can hinder you from getting your desires and I’m here to remind you nope that it can’t. Nothing can. I had a phase where I would ugly cry trying to make sure all the success stories are true….I became a cop and started looking for inconsistencies on pages and liars to help me feel better. Which it didnt, It drove me mad, and I lost faith.

Until… I read pink’s doubt post which was God sent. Her entire page is God sent tbh and I recommend it to everyone. After I felt better and realized outside of tumblr people have gotten into the void, I decided I’m gonna be the next success story. So I went on your lovely page because I don’t think there isn’t a method you haven’t talked about.

You’re so educated and conduct amazing research on everything, we truly don’t deserve you Tia. Thank you for all your hard work. Anyways I was feeling good! I had so many methods to choose from, I felt like a fat kid at a candy store. And I decided my logical brain needed a logical method so I went with lucid dreaming.

This is where charm comes in. I read her lucid dreaming guide and it is literally also God sent so thank you so much for that. She had a method I had never heard of called SSILD, and even made a post about that as well… like I felt like the universe was handing me everything on a silver platter. And I saw another post that her and pink talked about using a reclining chair. So I combined SSILD with that method to make an ultimate one. And on the second day of trying I entered a lucid dream, asked a dream character to take me to the void and then manifested my dream life.

What I manifested: my dream house, dream family, dream body and face, dream amount of money, money always coming to my family and I’s bank account out of nowhere (but it’s natural and normal ) socialite Status, 25k insta followers (my lucky number) famous loyal dream athletics boyfriend (I was so scared this wouldn’t work but it did!), master manifesting abilities, dream college acceptance, (future) good self concept, a great fashion taste, never gaining weight, clear glass skin, revising my abusive past, and so much more. My list was like a whole ass essay, I obviously can’t list everything but my life is perfect now.

This was last week and I immediately booked a trip to LA with my family to look at the USC campus because that’s where I want to go and where I will go next fall, (I’m a senior). I was also looking at apartments around my school and I found my dream one so I’m manifesting no one leases it 🤭

Quick note: a lot of my desires were weird or I wanted them to manifest a specific way, or they weren’t realistic to happen immediately so I was afraid it wouldn’t work out the way I envisioned. Not only did everything work out the way I envisioned but it worked out even better and exactly how I would want them to apply to life but in a realistic way. So if that’s something you worry about don’t worry, you are God, and it will work out perfectly.

Anyways, I just wanted to share this because I failed for a while and everyone on this app was so supportive. Tumblr is genuinely like a little magical family so now everyone will see my succeed… though this on anon mode bc people have been attacking success stories lately. And honestly it doesn’t matter bc I just want to live my new spoiled life but I want to express my gratitude because my life was in shambles and you three helped me so much. So thank you again and I hope everyone who read this. No, I know everyone who reads this will get what they deserve.

HII LOVE!! WOW CONGRATULATIONS (⑅˶ᵔ ▿ ᵔ˶) ~♡

I'm very excited for you!!! And yes, void Tumblr has definitely changed rn and I feel there's many blogs on here that's good and no more liars. I'm so glad you gained faith back in the community and now you're living your dream life, love.

Aww pink and charm have the best posts on the void too <3.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink doubts post

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Charms lucid dreaming guide, SSILD method

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink recliner method

I LOVE YOUR MANIFESTATIONS AND EVERYTHING SOUNDS SO FUN OMGG!! LLYSM <33

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ew-selfish-art · 8 months

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Dp x Dc AU: Bruce has a 'if you can't beat them, join them' mentality about the tabloids claiming he adopts too many kids- Developing foster homes that are paid for through the Wayne inheritance, personally vetted by the Bats, they're the leaders in the space for child health outcomes and family placement. Insert Danny.

---

Bruce has too much wealth, too many rumors and not enough reach into the abhorrent foster homes around Gotham to improve them. Tim ends up being the one to suggest it- He's the one who buys up their real estate for their safe houses after all- and Bruce is more than ready to pull the metaphorical trigger to get new clean welcoming spaces, Bat-background checked fosters and a new era of adoption in Gotham underway.

He's lobbied the state and the federal government for reforms of course, but this is a project he can micromanage. He spends time with every kid that comes through, talks with all the families that want to adopt and makes sure that these miniature homes are provided only the very best. Alfred personally hires all the staff, and with Barbara more than happy to help relocate the unhoused children she spots while they patrol, the project is a glowing success.

Occasionally, spots in their houses fill up, and those are the weeks were Cass takes on the Cowl of Batman- Bruce Wayne will personally invite a child in need to his home. He always has one of his kids present (they rotate on a pre-determined schedule) and he does his best to try and get them to understand that they deserve the world, have all the potential that anyone else has and can achieve a bright future. That he will personally aid them in their ambitions.

PR goes crazy for it of course, but Bruce and all of his children know its genuine. Almost too genuine, because a betting pool 'WILL THEY BE ADOPTED' regularly circulates between the siblings and the entire JL when someone spends time at the manor. And not just the black-haired, Blue-eyed kids get picked as favored outcomes- but obviously the running joke gets passed around.

It's a Thursday night when Bruce gets the call that the houses have once again filled up, and that there is a child in need of a home. The social worker (he knows her as Marsha and he has flowers planned to be sent on her birthday next week, like he does for all of his employees) (Say micromanaged one more time) explains that the kid is a bit cagey but has opened up with some humor. She explains that he has a few strange... mannerisms. She's not sure what to make of him, a non-gothamite for sure but something is, well, distinctly 'not from around here' about his energy.

Danny arrives at the house, meets Duke and Alfred, and by the time Bruce meets him at the dinner table it seems as though Marsha had it all wrong. This kid was laughing, he was teasing, he was totally playing along like he'd gone through nothing. Bruce is glad he's in high spirits but its just so... so different from all the other children he's taken in.

Bruce re-focuses on the conversation when Duke mentions something flashing, and its the first time that Danny goes quiet. Entirely still.

"...you noticed that?" Danny quietly asks, a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"You don't have a flashlight on or something do you? It was super bright whatever it is that you had in your hand a second ago?" Duke tries to sound chill but he's looking very much not chill. Bruce saw nothing, and that puts him further on edge.

"Look... I uh, I've been though... I've been through a lot lately. And the last lab I was in kind of, messed with me. I'm normally much better at dealing with it all, I promise." Danny sounds nervous, and the room seems to chill.

"Ah shoot, sorry." Danny notices something and frantically apologizes.

"Sorry for what Danny? You've done nothing wrong but I am worried about you- You said you were in a lab?" Bruce is desperately trying to calm him down while not slipping into Batman interrogation mode.

"Uh, yeah, like a lot of labs. It should get warmer in a second, its just cause I startled, I promise."

"You're a meta." Duke speaks softly and with hope in his voice- Danny is looking between them with wide eyes filled with fear.

"I mean I don't technically have the gene-"

"Danny, have you told any of your case workers where you were? Do any authorities know what you've been through?" Bruce needs to know, desperately, that who ever gave this young boy super powers is brought to justice. Danny goes quiet.

"I'm really sorry." He says softly, but he doesn't leave them.

Duke and Bruce try to ask a few more questions but the silence that meets them declares the conversation over, even with Duke admitting he himself is a meta. Danny didn't even look up from his plate. They watch a movie after dinner, and Danny seems to get back to the smile-y happy guy he had been before dinner.

Each of the bat-fam have their own interactions with Danny- And even if they're getting along amazingly, Danny won't open up. He doesn't open up to his provided therapist. Doesn't talk to Alfred. No one knows what's up.

So when Marsha calls Bruce back explaining they now have a spot for Danny and he can move out of the Manor... Bruce replies that he'd like to get started on Adoption paperwork, so long as Danny is fine with it.

---

Turns out, Danny is fine with it. he's both the newest Wayne and their newest case. (And godamnit, his new family is going to avenge him. If only he'd let them try.)

Danny figures out that Duke= Signal early on because of that dinner, and if he's going to keep his parents out of jail, he needs to be as close to the investigation as possible. He knows that he shouldn't protect the Fentons, but he feels the upset in his core at the thought of letting them befall any harm. He has to protect them. Has to protect Jazz and her hiding spot as a mole within their lab. Has to.

Even if it meant lying to his new family who loves him, and who he loves in equal return. Even if it means lying to The Bats.

---

Tabloids go crazy about the black-haired blue-eyed thing of course, but no poll was ever taken by the batfam or the JL who know the whole story.

#Danny has his powers destabilized by the various lab experiments but he's slowly getting control back #Duke notices Danny phasing his hands through the table/silverware by accident- it just looks like slight of hand tho #Danny figures out the bats and the best he can do is get adopted #friends close and enemies (lol not really) closer #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #dc x dp fic #please i beg of you- write the other siblings interactions #someone tell me why I left Jazz to sabotage their parents and what to do with her next #jazz looking at danny who now has every possible resource to save them and not using it like- my guy #danny's core working against him like stockholm syndrome basically #like his protected them for this long so now he feels compulsion #danny gets adopted au #bruce adopts danny au

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lettersofalover · 1 month

Text

-> coffee in the mornin’ | blurb

p.b x fem!reader

genre: fluff, so sweet and tender

authors note: she’s a lover girl i know it

paige craved those long nights with you and the slow mornings that followed. she never knew that a love so simple would bring so much peace to her chaotic life. she didn’t know what she prayed for or if she even deserved it, but she was thankful for the abundance of joy you brought to her life each day. it was early in the morning, much earlier than you awoke. paige’s mental clock was hard wired for early mornings and late practices but you were slowly teaching her the importance of a balanced sleep schedule, alongside many other things - like the joy of coffee in the morning while in bed as the sun light beamed through your window. to just enjoy the little things in life

she managed to get out of bed and do her morning routine in the guest bathroom without waking you up. she slid a shirt over her head and didn’t bother with pants or fixing her hair. even though there was school work to be done and practice lingering around the corner, she wanted to soak up the lazy saturday morning before she reluctantly had to leave. as much as she craved you, she also craved the basketball in her hand while she ran drills and shot threes. the familiar whoosh of the net each time the ball successful went in. before you, she would have gone straight to the gym with no breakfast in her body, just pure adrenaline and an empty court waiting for her. but instead of her own needs she considered yours. you were just as tired as she was, if not more.

paige became accustomed to mornings with you. she decided that today was a day to let you sleep in. you were on the brink of tears last night over the stress of your internship and she wanted to make the morning easy for you. so, in the quiet kitchen, she hummed as she made breakfast. it was simple - a bagel, eggs, and bacon. the hardest part of it all was not letting your puppies eyes tug on her heart string and give the little guy a piece of bacon.

she was proud of her work and she carefully crept back into the bedroom, using her back to open the door with the little puppy trailing her. he immediately jumped onto the bed and she scolded him quietly as he began licking you in his excitement. you moved around under the covers, mumbling a good morning to the puppy which made him bark. you laughed from underneath the covers as page set the plate down. she held two cups of coffee in her hand with a proud smile on her face. your eyes peaked from underneath the blanket and she held the coffee mug outwards for you to grab.

you came of your cocoon of sorts and grabbed the mug and took a sip that made you loose a breath with a satisfied smile. paige outstretch her hand towards the plate of food on your bedside table as if it was a gourmet meal. it was. because she had made just for you. you mumbled that she didn’t have to do that but she wasted no time in letting you argue and immediately kissed your forehead and telling you good morning.

“thank you, babe.” you said “you didn’t have to do that.”

“i know,” your girlfriend said, “but i wanted to.” which made your heart melt into a puddle. you had never known a love like paige’s - she was the one you dreamed of and the one you assumed was unattainable. yet, there stood your girlfriend with her blonde hair in disarray, the rays of sunshine framing her body as she took a sip of her own coffee.

“look,” she began eagerly, turning towards the plate of food, “i made breakfast. well kinda, everything went in the toaster or in the microwave forreal. but i made breakfast!” she beamed. paige plucked a strip of bacon and took a bite before feeding the rest to you.

“that’s delicious.” you moaned.

“right, i think i got something going here. maybe basketball should be my plan b.”

“let’s not quit our day job just yet, i think the bacon was a bit overcooked.” you laughed, gingerly sitting up onto your knees. she smiled down at you and rolled her eyes.

“thank you for breakfast, baby.” you said and she nodded in return. “and thank you for letting me sleep in” to which she shrugged.

“some lady told be balance is key or something like that, can’t really remember” she joked and you placed the mug down and wrapped your arms around her. she placed her head in the nape of your neck, taking in the scent of your shampoo and she felt herself relax into the hug. she mumbled, “i love you.”

“i love you too.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb

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watchmegetobsessed · 10 months

Text

LOVE AND TOUR

A/N: im so excited to post this fic bc *drum roll* it's a collab with @harrysfolklore !! the post tour depression is still kicking our butts so we decided to team up for a story that features LOT! hope you guys will like it and as always, make sure to head over to her blog to check out her fic that features all social media posts for this story!

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

SUMMARY: Y/N and Harry were once friends, but his career pulled them apart. Then in 2019 Harry decides to invite her to ONO London and so their story begins or more like continues.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

2010

The handmade banner hanging over the white board in the classroom is crooked and two balloons have popped already. The sign reads ‘Good luck, Harry!’ and every letter is a different color. The desks and chairs were pushed to the side to make room in the middle and the teacher’s desk is full of snacks and drinks the kids brought in for the little impromptu party the class decided to throw before Harry’s big day.

He is going to his big X Factor audition this weekend and though he is not convinced he will make it, everyone in school is rooting for him. If anyone deserves the success it’s Harry, the goofy, kind boy who makes everyone smile and always helps whenever he can.

The soon-to-be rockstar is mingling with his friends and classmates, music is playing in the background and the chatting is nonstop. Everyone keeps asking Harry if he’s nervous or ready or which judge he is afraid of the most. He tries his best to talk to everyone and be everywhere, though he keeps an eye on one specific girl.

Y/N has been staying in the back for most of the time, sipping on some soda, listening to her friend as he enjoys the spotlight. She’s been friends with Y/N for quite some time, they live just a street away from each other, they often bike to school together and whenever one of them is sick the other one can be expected to show up at their house with the homework.

Good friends. That’s what they are. But deep down, Y/N is definitely feeling more than just friendship towards the curly haired boy who is now set to step his foot on the road to fame.

When the party is over and everyone has headed home already, Harry and Y/N are the last ones to walk out of the school’s building.

“So, be honest, are you nervous?” she asks as they are walking home , pushing their bikes this time. Harry said he hurt his ankle at PE today so he better not get on the bike, but in reality… he is just trying to spend more time with Y/N.

“Kind of, yeah,” he admits with a chuckle.

“I’m sure you will crush it.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she smiles at him and his heart skips a beat.

Harry has been trying to work up his courage to ask Y/N out since probably the sixth grade, but he just never got to the point. Now he tells himself that if he gets into X Factor she will see him in a different light and that’s when he should ask her out, but little does he know he doesn’t need to be in a talent show to have her like him enough to want him.

Reaching her house she wishes him good luck and even hugs him before he waves goodbye and continues his way home. Y/N stands by their front door and watches him get farther away, hoping that whatever happens that weekend won’t change their friendship.

2013

The tour bus is quiet, everyone is asleep. Everyone, except Harry.

Lying in his bunk bed, his face is illuminated by his phone as he aimlessly scrolls on his social media apps, checking out posts by fans, reading news, just killing time. He knew he shouldn’t have had a nap earlier, because now it will be way too late by the time he can fall asleep and won’t be rested enough when they arrive in the next city.

He opens up Instagram and goes through his feed, he posts a picture he took of the crowd at the show the other day and then watches the likes flood in like crazy.

Going back to his feed he goes through his friends’ posts, it’s just the usual, parties, vacations, hanging out, everyone seems to be living their life even though Harry often feels like time has stopped since he’s gotten on the road.

He can feel himself growing sleepier and he is just about to put his phone down when he comes across a post that wakes him up.

Y/N is not one to post often, she is not like most girls he knows who want to share every and any moment of their life. Last time she uploaded something was probably weeks ago. This time she was snapped in her graduation gown, her hair flowing in the movement flawlessly and he recognizes her parents’ home in the background. It totally slipped Harry’s mind that in a life he left behind graduation was happening these days.

He scrolls down to the caption and all it says is “Soon” and then a crown emoji. It’s enough for him to know she’s going to King’s College London, that’s what she always dreamed about and it seems like she hasn’t changed her mind.

Before he could think about it, he double taps on the picture liking it, completely oblivious to how fans can see his activity and they instantly start guessing about who the girl is whose graduation photo was liked by Harry Styles.

2014

The screaming intensifies wherever Harry goes on the stage, he is jumping and shaking his long hair to the music while his bandmates are singing ‘Steal My Girl’ and the girls are going crazy, the energies are insane, Harry loves performing, this is truly his element.

He’s been on the road for what feels like forever and if you asked him what day it was, he would have no idea. It’s a miracle he knows which city he is currently in.

Walking to the side of the stage he stops for a moment right before the bridge that’s his part. He lifts his mic to his lips and starts singing when the music dies down right before his lines.

“She knows, she knows, that I never let her down before…”

His voice fills up the stadium, thousands are singing together with him and he runs his gaze over the sea of people in front of him. He sees so many faces, some are even familiar, Harry tends to remember fans he sees over and over again at their concerts, but most of them are new. The song carries on and the boys start singing along with him, Harry is about to move back to the middle of the stage, but then he sees her.

He sees Y/N.

Or so he thinks. It’s hard to tell, because it’s dark and she is so far away from the stage, it could be just someone who resembles her, but something in his gut tells him it’s her.

He does a double take, losing the familiar face for a moment but then he finds her again and a shiver runs down his spine. He hasn’t seen her in years, life has been simply way too hectic to keep in touch, last time he met her was probably in 2012 when he went home for Christmas, they ran into each other in town and promised to talk soon because they were both kind of in a hurry, but they never followed up with it. Y/N went to college, Harry’s career was skyrocketing, it was impossible to stay as close as they were before X Factor and Harry always regretted not trying harder, because now he has no idea what’s happening in her life.

Niall walks up to him and pats him on the back and Harry’s focus shifts to his friend for just a moment, but it’s enough to not find her again when he looks back at the audience. Did she duck down? Walk out when she realized he was looking? Or did he just entirely imagine seeing her and it was just a mirage?

He can’t get her out of his head for the rest of the show and he finds himself looking for her over and over again, but he doesn’t see her again and his consciousness starts to convince him she wasn’t even there.

It was just a cruel trick his own mind played on him.

2019

Why does he feel like he is sending out an invitation to the Queen of England? Why is he so nervous to hit send on an email? This is nothing Earth shattering, nothing will happen if he sends it out and life will go on even if she never replies.

One Night Only is set to happen in a few weeks and Harry is now sending out his invitations to his friends and family, he wants everyone who matters to be there on such a big night. Making the list was no hard task, but then he thought of inviting Y/N as well even though they haven’t talked in so long.

The other night, Harry found himself stalking her Instagram which he is still following. She has been posting once or twice a month, tiny glimpses into her life that doesn’t include Harry anymore.

But he wants to change that.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles under his breath and then adds her to the list of people who will get the invitation and then he just hits send and it’s officially out there.

Harry is not necessarily one to get overly obsessive about something, but the next few days he finds himself checking his inbox every hour, scrolling through the new emails, looking for one particular address to show up, but he has to come to the conclusion every time that Y/N hasn’t answered.

Days go by, Harry’s enthusiasm fades and by the end of the week he is convinced she won’t be there and soon he doesn’t even have time to think about it.

One Night Only arrives to London in december. The venue fills up with excited and devoted fans, but no one is more nervous about tonight than Harry.

He is ready, his band is ready, everything is perfectly in place, but he knows he won’t feel fully calm until he is on stage, performing to the people who gave him this amazing life.

It all goes as planned, Fine Line is finally officially out there (it has been for about a week if we are being exact) and Harry couldn’t be happier. Coming off the stage he is still high on adrenaline, taking all the congratulations the crew and guests are giving him relentlessly. His smile is so wide, it’s starting to hurt his face, but it’s a pain he could happily deal with for the rest of his life.

He hugs his mum and sister, all his old friends, they do a group hug with the band and he is sure he has greeted everyone by now, but then he spots one specific figure in the back of the room.

At first he thinks he is just imagining it. That his mind is playing the same trick on him it did a few years ago when he thought he saw Y/N at one of their concerts. Blinking a couple of times he is ready to watch her disappear like a ghost, but as the seconds go by he realizes that she is truly there.

Y/N is standing across the room with a nervous smile, looking all grown up and most importantly fucking beautiful. Even though Harry has seen plenty of pictures of her from recent times, it’s still a shock to have her stand in the same room as him.

His body moves before his brain could process it. His feet start to carry him towards her and before he even realizes he is running and when he finally reaches her he wraps her in his arms, twirling her around, making both of them laugh.

“You’re here!” he breathes out, still hugging her even when he has put her down.

“I am, you invited me!” she chuckles and they finally lean back enough to look at each other.

“I know, but… you never replied, I didn’t think you’d come and… You are actually here,” he repeats.

“Sorry I didn’t reply, I wasn’t sure until the very last minute if I would come,” she admits nervously.

Harry’s invitation was all she could think about since the morning she got the email. It was more than unexpected, for a moment she even thought it was just some kind of prank, but it came from Harry's old email address, so she had to believe that it was genuine. She hesitated until probably a few days ago when she woke up one day and just knew that she had to be here tonight.

“It’s okay,” he smiles at her softly, taking in her every feature. The girl he knew is still there, but she changed a lot, she looks so much more mature and her features have definitely gotten a lot more feminine.

She looks gorgeous.

Suddenly it all comes down on him clashing, all the questions, the feelings, he wants to know everything, but he fears they don’t have enough time.

“How long are you staying?” he then asks.

“I took a couple of days off, I’m staying for three more days.”

He sighs in relief.

“Come on,” he smiles, his hand taking hers. “I want to know everything.”

“Everything?” she chuckles, ignoring the tingles wherever his hand is touching hers.

“Harry, don’t assault the poor girl! She almost didn’t come!” Gemma chimes in. Harry stops, his eyes snapping back and forth between Y/N and his sister.

“Wait, you knew she would be coming?” he asks Gemma, who is sipping on some champagne with a knowing smile. She shrugs.

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” he scoffs, hands on his hips. The sight makes Y/N laugh, because she can see his sixteen year-old self in the pose so vividly, it’s insane.

“You never asked,” Gemma says and walks away. Harry turns back to Y/N.

“She messaged me if I got your invitation,” she admits.

“So you’re telling me, all I should have done is to send you a message and ask for confirmation?”

Y/N just chuckles, shrugging her shoulders innocently. Harry exhales as he shakes his head.

“Alright, now you truly have to tell me everything.”

2020

“Can you hear me?” Harry asks, as the FaceTime finally loads and Y/N’s pixelated face fills his phone’s screen. He leans back on his plush couch and he tries his best to ignore how fast his heart starts pounding in his chest when he hears her laugh.

“Yeah, I can hear you,” she answers and it seems like she just sat down somewhere too.

Struggling with the unstable connection they share how their day has been so far, though Harry has been up just for a few hours while Y/N’s is almost over. The time difference has been making it hard for them to keep in touch, but Harry has learned his lesson and he bends his schedule around these talks, because there’s no way he would waste even a moment he could spend talking to her.

ONO and the days that followed changed everything. It didn’t take long for Harry to realize that his boyish crush is still very much present and after seeing her it quickly evolved into something more mature. Seemingly, Y/N has been sharing these feelings, because it appears she enjoys spending time with Harry in any way possible just as much as he does.

It took them quite some time to catch up and it feels like they still haven’t shared everything they missed in each other’s life in the past years, but they know they have all the time they need, even if the circumstances might not always be the best. They are both trying their best.

There’s a comfortable silence in their call where both of them are just staring at each other through the screen. The unsaid things have been hanging there between them, they know it’s more than just their old friendship rekindled, but saying the words out through a FaceTime call wouldn’t be right.

“I miss you,” Harry finds himself mumbling the words, kind of to himself, but she hears the words.

“I miss you too,” she replies, biting her lip as she adjusts the phone in her hands.

“Can I… Can I see you before I go on tour?”

“That’s like… in three weeks,” she chuckles.

“I know. But I want to see you.”

“I don’t know, I have a regular, mundane job, I’m not an international rockstar who can just travel whenever it’s convenient,” she reminds him jokingly.

“Okay, then let me visit you.”

“You’re way too busy to come here.”

“I’m never too busy for you.”

She gasps at his words, the pink clouds so thick around her mind it’s almost sickening. If only she could reach out and through the screen…

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow and if you still think the same, we can… figure something out,” she smiles shyly. Harry knows he’ll feel the same tomorrow and the day after and forever. So he just smiles and nods.

They chat some more until Harry has to leave. Unwillingly, but they end the call and return to their separate lives.

Y/N stays on her couch, her phone still in her hands and Harry on her mind. Her TV is on, but it’s been muted, the screen is the only thing illuminating her in the dark room. With a tired sigh she reaches for the remote and turns the volume back on.

The news are on. She stands from the couch and starts cleaning up, not even listening to what they are talking about on the screen.

“... therefore COVID-19 has been officially declared a pandemic. WHO warns everyone to wear a mask in all public places, countries with a high number of cases are urgently discussing what other safety measures should…”

Y/N is questioning her sanity. She has been for the past week that was spent packing her suitcase, she took three covid tests in the last two days and now she is about to board a private jet at an airport that’s scarily empty. The last part shouldn’t be surprising, the whole world is under lockdown because of the pandemic, Y/N has spent her last month isolated in her apartment, right until one day Harry begged her to fly over to him.

“Y/N, please. I will settle everything, I’ll send a private jet for you, pay for it all, just please… please come here and be with me!”

There’s probably nothing she can deny from him. So here she is, escorted onto a private jet by an airport worker, they are both wearing their masks, just like everyone she has seen in the past week preparing for her travel.

Just as she settles in her seat on the jet, her phone buzzes from a text.

HARRY: Everything alright? Are you boarding already?

With a smile hidden under her mask she types her reply.

Y/N: On the plane, we’re taking off in 10.

HARRY: I can’t wait to see you.

Last time she traveled overseas was for a vacation years ago. She flew commercial then and it felt like hell, wedged between an obnoxious little boy and a middle aged woman who complained about everything. Now it’s just her and literally one single stewardess who is there to serve her. It’s a whole different experience for sure.

Luckily, the journey feels a lot shorter when she’s comfortable, she can get up anytime and eat excellent food instead of some weird frozen meal on a plastic plate. By the time the jet touches down she feels rested and most importantly excited to see Harry again. It feels like forever when they had to say goodbye in december and in all honesty, it took them way longer to reunite, but it’s all because of the pandemic. It’s late april now, they were planning to meet about a month ago originally at the end of march before his tour was set to kick off. By now he was supposed to be on the road through Europe, but instead, he has been under lockdown just like the rest of the world.

She walks through LAX as if it was zombie land, it’s so eerily empty she is expecting zombies to round the corner any minute, but it never happens. She reaches the car waiting for her, the driver loads her begs to the trunk and then they are off to Harry’s place.

It’s her first time at Harry’s LA home, and naturally it still baffles her to see where he’s gotten from his old life in Holmes Chapel, one that included her.

But his life includes her now as well, she reminds herself just as the car rolls up the long driveway. Getting out of the car she is about to grab her suitcases from the back of the car when the front door flies open and Harry sprints out. Literally.

He is running towards her with such speed, she almost gets knocked over when he finally reaches her and locks her in his arms, twirling around in the air.

“You’re here!” he breathes out, making her laugh.

“Were you not expecting me?” she teases him when he finally puts her down, but his arms remain around her.

“It’s just… I’m so happy to see you,” he smiles widely, taking her in. She hasn’t changed much since December, maybe her hair has gotten a little longer, but she looks the same.

However their feelings are nowhere near the same.

He thanks the driver and then grabs all her bags, urging her to come inside. Y/N wanders further into his home exploring it right away, already migrating towards the pool outside. Harry sets her luggage down in the hallway and walks after her, watching her stop by the sliding doors, admiring the enormous backyard. She turns around and catches him staring.

“What?” she asks, nervously laughing.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

2021

He’s nervous. There’s no use in denying, anyone could see it. But no one can blame him, it’s been so long since he last stood on a stage, he’s afraid he lost his groove, though the people who know him beg to differ.

Washing his teeth in his fluffy robe he is eyeing his outfit for tonight that’s hanging in the corner. He knows his fans will love it, the color pink alone would make them go feral, but the sparkly vest with no top underneath will be surely like they won the jackpot.

He spits and rinses his mouth just when there’s a soft knock on the door and just by the rhythm of it he knows who it is.

“Come in!” he calls out, wiping his mouth with a towel just when Y/N pokes her head inside, her body following a second later.

“Hey,” she smiles shyly, taking him in for a second as he moves around the room.

“Told you, you don’t have to knock when you come in,” he chuckles.

“But, what if you’re… naked or something?”

He stops and stares back at her, giving her an ‘Are you kidding me?’ look that gets her all flustered in an instant so he decides to take it even further.

“Nothing you haven’t seen, baby. In fact, you can see it right now if you wanted to.” He starts untying his robe, but she stops him laughing and taking the opportunity of having her so close now he wraps her in his arms and kisses her.

It never gets old. The feeling he gets whenever he gets to kiss her, whether it’s a good morning kiss right after he wakes up, or a tired kiss at the end of the day, a needy kiss when he just wants her more than anything or a make-up kiss after a fight, which doesn’t happen often. He can count it on one hand how many times they got into an argument since they’ve become an item in April 2020, when Y/N spent most of the lockdown with Harry. Originally, she planned to stay only for a couple of weeks, but she didn’t return home until the start of June and she was back by July.

Now it’s September 2021, so it’s been almost one and a half years since then and they are still just as in love as they were during lockdown.

“You’re nervous,” she mumbles against his lips and it’s not a question. She knows him, all of his looks, his movements, she knows what he thinks about most of the time if not always, she can read him like a book.

Harry hums and just goes in for another kiss.

“You’ll be amazing, don’t worry,” she smiles at him, patting his chest as she pulls back. “And even if you make a mistake, the pink sparkles will distract everyone,” she jokes, nodding towards his outfit.

“You’ll be out there?”

“Of course. I’ll be the one screaming the loudest.”

“As loud as last night?” The cheeky grin that stretches across his face is proof that he is not that nervous if he can make dirty jokes.

“Shut up or I’m going home,” she laughs, poking a finger into his chest teasingly. He grabs her finger and pulls her back for another kiss.

“Nope, you’re stuck here. With me,” he smirks, lips coming over hers again.

2023

The bittersweet feeling has been lingering around the crew not just all day, but probably for a week now. Everyone knew that the end was coming and now that the final show is officially here, the emotions are overflowing. Everything they are doing, they are doing it for the last time on Love On Tour. It’s the last stage, the last sound check, last time Wet Leg takes the stage before Harry and it’s the last time Y/N is sitting in his dressing room, watching him put on his outfit of the night.

She can sense that he is different than he usually is before a show, he seems antsy and his eyebrows have been furrowed probably since lunch. Y/N watches him pace the floor back and forth in his sparkly outfit, nervously fixing the wire behind his neck even though it’s exactly in the same spot it usually is.

“Do you want me to help?” she asks and Harry stops in his tracks, as if he just realized what he’s been doing. His hands fall by his side as he exhales sharply.

“Sorry, just… fidgeting.”

Y/N stands from the couch and walking over she absentmindedly fixes his fringed vest, planting her palms onto his chest gently.

“It’s okay to be sad, H,” she reminds him. Harry tends to hide his big, sad feelings, because he feels like it would bother others. He is always so considerate about dealing with everyone else’s feelings, but this time his emotions should be in focus as well.

“I don’t want to be sad, that’s the thing. It was a great experience, sadness should not be a thing when I think of Love On Tour.”

“But that’s why it’s okay to be sad. Because this amazing experience is ending and it’s natural that you’re mourning it. It lasted, what? Like almost two years? And if we count in the planning, this tour has been part of your life since 2019. That was four years ago, no one expects you to just let go of it laughing.”

Harry nods, his arms snaking around her waist as he pulls her into his embrace, needing to feel her close in this overwhelming moment. She’s been his anchor, the person he could turn to no matter what during this insanely long tour, he’s convinced he couldn’t have done it all without her.

Not even Harry can slow time down, so the moment to step onto the stage for the last time in this tour finally comes. Y/N stands with his family and friends at the side, holding Anne’s hands whenever an emotional song is played by him. He puts one thousand percent into it, just like every time on this tour and Y/N’s chest swells with pride when she realizes that it’s one hundred thousand people screaming at her lover.

Or fiancé, to be exact.

When Harry sings Falling, to his fans’ surprise, she notices him looking for her in the crowd. The song is melancholic and it was written about a time he felt at his lowest, but to look in his eyes tells it all to Y/N.

He is not there anymore, because he has her.

She’s twisting her diamond ring around her finger as tears dwell in her eyes while she sings along to the song, hoping that her expression tells him too, that she is happy to be the person who brought light into his life, because he did the same to her.

Then the time comes for Harry’s thank you speech and no eye is left dry after his words. Y/N has to swallow back her sobs when he turns to her and addresses his words straight to her.

“My love, thank you for everything, you were such a big part of this journey and I hope that our journey will continue forever.”

The fans are screaming, phones are pointed at her, recording her reaction as she just nods eagerly, one hand covering her wobbling lips.

For his final piano piece Y/N moves backstage to watch him from there and be there when he walks off the stage for the very last time in the history of Love On Tour. She is standing there with the proudest and most emotional expression on her face when Harry jumps down the steps and he smashes into her arms right away, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She can feel his tears against her skin and she gently keeps combing her hand through his hair, giving him as much time to recover as he needs.

When he finally lifts his head his eyes are glassy, but there’s a smile on his lips.

“You did amazing,” Y/N tells him, gently wiping his cheeks with her hands.

“And you did too,” he says and his words make her laugh.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did the absolute most, Y/N. You gave me your love and support and I couldn’t have done it without those.”

Her heart melts as she pushes up to her tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You’ll forever have those. You’ll forever have me.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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myouicieloz · 3 months

Text

Love me back

Yoo Jimin x university student!reader

Synopsis: she wants to let go. you need her to let go. none of you can.

Warnings: nsfw. smut. biting. angsty I guess.

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: my darlings <3

Karina didn’t turn to look when you sat beside her in the park. She knew who it was. She called you herself, not many minutes ago.

Hey

Ik we’re fighting, but could you come, please?

An address. Another message, too, after a few minutes. Almost as if she were wary of sending it.

It’s cold.

You stared at your phone as the bubble kept going on and off in your conversation, until it stopped. Finally, she’d decided. About that, at least.

And I miss you

Needless to say, you went to meet her. You’d never deny her anything, no matter how much you wanted to. No matter how much she deserved so.

You found her sitting on a wooden bench, staring at the lake with a red nose and cold hands. You could tell she was freezing, even with the thick jacket she wore, yet you didn’t move to take yours off and offer it to her. No, you two were long past this.

“I’ve had a stressful week.” She sighed, hiding her face in her hands. Like the usual, she didn’t directly acknowledge you, and you knew why. You’ve been doing this long enough to know that this was all you meant to her: an escape.

A distraction, if you were lucky enough.

“You always do.” Your words were as apathetic as your face, serious as you shove your hands into your pockets, trying to suppress a shiver yourself. It was freezing cold indeed, so whatever it was that had Karina pissed must’ve been something serious, to have her out of the dorms so late at night.

You were curious, although not curious enough to give in just yet. After moments of waiting for her to say something, anything, you rolled your eyes, sitting beside her on the wooden bench. She closed hers, depriving herself of the grand view of the river, and rested her head on the crook of your neck. You allowed her to do so, naturally.

There’s very little you’d not let her do to you.

“Aren’t you tired of this?”

“No.” Her answer is immediate, steam coming from the heavy breath she’d let out. “I could never get tired of you.”

Perhaps she was truthful in her words. You loved her, and you knew she loved you too, in her own way. It would never work out: with her being an idol, famous and successful, and you being just a university student. You were aware of that, and it was the reason you promised yourself to not answer her calls, whenever she reached out for you; you’d only get hurt, in the end — the right thing to do would be to end it, to protect yourself and your feelings.

However, as much as she did mean the empty promises she gave you, Karina knew just what to say to lure you in. Not just your body, the idol knew your soul too well. Her words were, most of the time, carefully calculated to break out your boundaries and get you to do whatever it was that she wanted you to. Even though you knew her tricks, you couldn’t help but to fall into her web every time.

She sighed, shrinking as she hummed against your neck, sniffing your perfume. Still the one she’d given you on your birthday, she was pleased to note. “Can I go to your house?”

Her voice was just as small and quiet as she made herself be, hugging her knees under the moonlight. Even in all her confidence, she was still a bit wary; afraid this would be the day you finally realized she was too damaging to you. She’s deeply afraid you’d leave her. She loves you — it’s complicated, but oh, how she does. She can’t fathom losing you.

“Not to talk, I assume.” Your tone, usually playful, was still serious. Karina moved her head from you, urging to be able to look in your face. Your beautiful face, kind and sweet and made to love her, staring at her with a blank expression — much different from the look of love you had before.

But that was ages ago, when you were both naive and pure, not at all ruined by the idol world. After all, generally, love is not enough.

The older girl shook her head, carefully observing your actions. “No, not to talk.”

You sighed. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help it: Karina was a siren, the holy sounds of her moans luring you in until you found yourself so deep in the water there was no other option but to drown.

You were, indeed, so exhausted of this cycle. One of her calling you solemnly when she wanted to rant or fuck until she was spaced out enough to forget her problems away for a few hours. She didn’t show any interest in your likings, your hobbies, or your friends. It was crystal clear that you were nothing but a stress relief to her.

Still, you were weak. Unfortunately, you loved Karina wholeheartedly, and you were eager to get whatever she wanted to give to you, no matter how much your logic was against it. How could you not? The sex was too good.

Aware of that, you got up, still refusing to display any emotions once you started walking, knowing she’d follow.

There is no warmth in your kiss. You bumped into the sofa, hurrying to the bedroom without separating your mouth from Karina’s. Her clothes were nearly ripped off her body, her sharp fingers doing the same with yours. It’s been too long since you had touched her pale, soft skin — you feel such lust for her in your heart, you nearly suffocate. Your desire for her body —for the little she gives you, it all drives you insane. It isn’t healthy, being on her will 24/7 and bending to all her wishes, but again, you can’t help it. She’s lured you in.

You positioned yourself between her legs, moving her long, raven hair from her face so you’d be able to stare at her properly. She looked flawless, impeccable, and waiting for you to take whatever you wanted to. It was just how she was: you could take and take, yet she’d never give you what you truly wanted.

Pretty girl with a pretty mind and a rotten soul, every sacred inch of her curves sculptured to leave you damned. To hurt you.

You sighed, biting her lips, then her skin. You loved to see your artwork on her— almost like a small victory. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to hurt.” She breathed deeply, hot moans coming from her mouth as you placed slow, wet kisses on her neck. “I deserve it.”

Kissing the space between her chest, you, murmur. “I’ve dreamed about being able to do so many times. Unfortunately, I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

She ignored your words, pulling you in for another messy kiss.

Karina always promised herself she’d stop reaching out to you. She knew you’d always give her attention, and part of her truly wished she could stop hurting you. She had never intended to. But she was also weak, and she needed you too much. How could she let go of you, when you were the only person who knew the real her? You’re the keeper of her dreams, her insecurities, her deep, darkest fears.

“You should.” Her voice had no trace of humor, as she traced her sharp nails through your jaw, forcing your mouth open. You knew her well enough to recognize the silent mocking, silently glad for your lack of self-respect.

For the sake of peace, you chose to ignore her words. Getting up, you delighted yourself with the way her eyes ravished your body, not at all in a rush while you got the strap she’s used to. She gulped, her mouth watering at the sight presented to her: how beautiful you were, all hers. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t true: you’d always go back to her, in the late hours of the night. She’d just have to call, and you’d drop everything and go.

As it should be.

Back in bed, you spat, spreading your saliva over the plastic toy. Karina had already knelt, salivating in front of you. Your hands grabbed a hold of her hair, shoving her face onto it rather harshly. “Take it.”

And oh, she did. Karina was eager, sucking and mixing your saliva with hers as she took it all in, the silicone gagging her throat and your grip not getting any weaker, forcing her to allow her mouth be fucked even when she started to get dizzy, dark dots appearing in her vision due to the lack of breathing. Only then, you let her go, watching her recompose herself.

“Very good. How much do you want it?” You teased, tone still serious, groping her thin waist until your fingerprints could be seen, reddening her impeccable porcelain skin. Her pretty ass was begging to be bruised, slapped all over, so you did as such.

Karina’s response came from her body, before she could even forge the words to answer you. Her back arched, and lewd, loud moans immediately left her mouth.

“Too m-much.” She gasped, whining once the strap met her entrance, not entering her properly. “Y/n… give me it all, p-please.” Karina pushed her hips back, trying to get you to be quicker.

Ever so impatient, as always. Never in the mood to play your games; they were of no interest to her.

Still, you did not give in, brushing her wet cunt as you pleased, giving her just the tip before pulling it out once again. You felt how hot and desperate she was, which made you hum in pleasure, too. At least she was suffering, in a way.

“Please, my Y/n. I’ll do everything, I promise.” She begged, little tears prickling from her eyes. “Everything you want, I swear. I’ll give you anything. A new laptop, jewels, a car, just say it but please, p-please…” Her pleads got even louder, self-control wearing thin.

It hurt— no, it maddened you to know she thought she could buy you with superficial things. You’ve never asked for any of those, not even when you were (unofficially) together. You’ve never wanted anything but her love. She’d never understand that.

It made you crazy, upset and so damn pissed off that she couldn’t see so.

Huffing, you pushed her down on the bed, entering her whole with your cock’s full length without giving her any time to adjust. It was rough, without a care— just how Karina liked the most.

Your roommates were away for the weekend, thankfully. Karina has always been a vocal mess, specially in bed, but it was obvious her current routine was taking a toll on her; her moans were sinful, the incoherent mumbles she let out making them close to screams, and she was so responsive. Her entire body twitched whenever you’d place your mouth on her skin.

Sucking her lips, then her neck, and oh, she nearly came in the spot when you started biting. Bruising her arms, her abdomen, her waist— your favorite place to mark her. She’d wear your hickeys proudly, smiling and mumbling about how clumsy she had been during rehearsals whenever somebody asked her about it, brushing off their concern.

It was all too much: your bite marks, mouth so hot on top of her, making sure no place was left unattended, paired with your thrusts, hard and fast, her grasps being how much she could breathe in between. Filling her up, adoring her so much.

She loved this.

“Y-you’re the best, my Y/n.” She let out, her body bumping against the mattress. Being loved by you was her favorite thing, she recalled. How could she have ever forgotten about it?

You bit your lip to keep yourself from saying something you’d regret.

“I hate you, for being so pretty.” You told Karina, pinching and twisting her nipples as you thrusted into her, hard and fast. She rolled her eyes, clearly too lost in her pleasure to give your thoughts any attention. You turned her around, eager to be presented with her pretty ass, wiggling with the thrusting motions. You gave it a single slap, a loud whine being followed from the older girl. “I hate you for not loving me back.” You held her by the hips, angling higher so you could reach her g-spot. “And I hate myself for loving you so much.”

Your words, even though they didn’t make much sense in Karina’s current fucked out mind, along with your movements and stimulations, were more than enough to have her reach her high. Letting out a high-pitched cry, Karina came, holding your arms tightly in attempts to not fall apart. You let her do so, assuring she went back to her senses before you could let your body fall beside her, the strap that hung on your hips latched on the ground.

“Will you ever give me anything more than that? More than hiding and being nothing more than a late night fuck?” You asked, straight to the point.

A year ago, you wouldn’t have had the guts to ask such a question. You lacked confidence, and you feared she’d disappear if you such as mentioned whatever it was that you two had.

Not anymore, though. Even more than insecure, you were tired; you couldn’t endure your situation anymore. A few days before her call, you’d made peace with the thought of not having her to yourself anymore. It would be harsh, but it was the best for you. You deserved better.

Even if you would never love anyone more than you loved her.

Karina stayed silent, looking down onto the covers. It’s enough answer for you. Sighing, you got up, handing her clothes and gesturing to the door.

“Then go elsewhere to get whatever you want, next time. Let me be free, Karina, please.” You hated yourself for sounding so miserable, the crack in your tone serving as clear evidence of how hurt you were. You loved her so much, but you couldn’t do this any longer. You needed more.

And Karina, even with all the confidence, money, and influence she had, could never give you such a thing.

She took the cue, doing as told. Her eyes— her big, dark, sad eyes stared at you quietly, and she opened her mouth to say something. After minutes of waiting, though, she doesn’t. Still silent, Karina left, launching you a last sad, pitiful look.

She was a mess; a beautiful, doomed angel, trapped in an industry that saw her as nothing less than a product, made to make money out of, until she was worn out. She struggled, naturally. It was a cruel place, one where people cared very little about her well-being and her actually feelings.

However, Karina was not yours to worry about anymore. Never was, for a fact.

#s.writes #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #aespa x fem reader #aespa x you #aespa smut #karina aespa smut #karina x reader #karina smut #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina angst #aespa angst #yoo jimin angst

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

Text

Part 2

He has no right to be here.

He knows that.

He does.

Eddie watches as people pile into the church, all of them dressed to the nines. It's a Harrington affair through and through, and the sight of all these people that he knows Steve hates makes him feel sicker than he already is.

If he wasn't on the edge of crying he would have laughed at himself, like he had any right to judge anyone here. He's the one who dumped Steve. Perfect, wonderful, lovely Steve who just needed a few more years. He just needed to make sure the kids were safe until they graduated. But Eddie couldn't do it. He needed to leave, and Steve needed to stay.

So he ended it. Just like that. He ended it.

He hasn't seen him for three years. By all appearances, it was a good choice, the best thing he could have done for himself. Because against all fucking odds Eddie Munson ends up as a success. He's a star, a famous musician discovered in a shitty little bar. He somehow managed to actually live the dream he used to fantasize about.

He lives it up. He parties, he drinks, he fucks, he spends his early twenties being young and dumb like he always wanted.

And it's horrible. It's so horrible that it becomes hilarious to him. Because he knows why it's so bad. Of course he knows. But it's better this way, really. Because Steve deserved better than him anyway. He deserved someone he didn't run away, full of flimsy excuses of wanting to be out of the shitty town that made him. When the truth was he was scared. He was terrified about how much he loved him. Because what was he going to do when the day came when Steve realized he could do better?

Eddie wouldn't have been able to surivie it. So he left instead. Like the coward he was. He left so he could be miserable and famous but at least Steve could finally find someone who deserved him.

So it really was all for the best. That's what he tells himself, because if he doesn't he'd go insane wondering about what could have been. He has himself convinced that he made the right choice. Maybe not for himself, but at least for Steve.

He doesn't realize how bullshit all of that was until Dustin lets it slip. They're doing the normal routine. Dustin visits, Eddie spoils the shit out of him, and on the last day he asks about Steve. He always tries to keep it casual. Tries to never let his desperation to know what's happening shine through. But it always does, bad enough that Dustin can't help the pity in his eyes when he tells him.

Steve's getting married.

Eddie wasn't aware just how much words could hurt him until that moment. He'd been called every bad name under the sun, a queer, a freak, a fag, you name it and it's been said. But this is the first time someone else's words make him feel like he's dying.

He wasn't invited to the wedding. Why would he be? But he still found it. Because he's a glutton for self-punishment. He hadn't seen Steve for three fucking years, and he chooses to wait till his wedding day?

But it's too late for regret, he's already here. His eyes keep scanning the room, just waiting for him to show up. He probably looks like a creep, dressed in all black and fucking sunglasses, sitting right by the door. He's basically in a fucking disguise, mostly to stop Robin from finding him and kicking his ass.

Speaking of, his eyes widen at the sight of her. She's slipping out of a door to the side, quickly wiping at her eyes before joining the crowd of people. His eyes drift back to the door.

Eddie's on his feet before he knows what he's doing. It's stupid, maybe the stupidest thing he's ever done, but where Robin is, Steve is sure to follow.

And he's right. It leads to a small dressing room. And there he is. Just like that Eddie's in front of the only man he'll ever love. Or at least, behind him. They were alone, and Steve hadn't even noticed him yet, too busy adjusting his hair in the mirror.

He still has time to leave. Besides, he didn't come here to ruin everything. He didn't, really.

But he doesn't turn around. Instead, Eddie locks the door behind him. He takes off his stupid sunglasses and clears his throat to speak, but is immediately rendered speechless when Steve turns to look at him.

He's just as gorgeous as he remembered.

His eyes widened at the sight of him, mouth opening and closing like he can't quite believe what he's seeing. Why would he? Eddie never reached out. He ignored the times that Steve did, always too ashamed of himself to face his own mistakes.

Eddie always expected Steve to lash out when he saw him, if he saw him. Lord knows he deserved it. But he doesn't. He just looks...sad. And those basset hound eyes are almost enough to bring Eddie to tears himself.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, voice quiet.

Eddie hadn't actually prepared anything to say. His plan was to watch the love of his life marry someone else than drink himself into a stupor at his hotel. He...he hadn't expected to end up here. But there are a million things he wants to say to him.

I'm here to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a coward. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough and I made it your problem. I haven't stopped thinking about you. Ever. There hasn't been a day that goes by when I don't regret leaving. And I thought, maybe, just maybe if I saw you move on with my own eyes I could let you go.

But none of that is what comes out of his mouth.

"Run away with me."

If Steve didn't look shocked to see him before he sure did now, "W-What?"

"Run away with me," He repeats. Because it's what he wants. It's what he needs. It's been three years of hell without him and Eddie can't do it anymore. He can't.

He hates that he's the cause of the tears springing up in Steve's eyes, but he can't take it back. He won't.

Steve looks away, eyes trained on the floor, "You can't do this to me Eddie. You can't."

But he is.

Eddie's made his choice. He was a fool to think he was capable of coming here without trying to steal him away. Of course this is where he'd end up. And he'll say anything to get him back. He doesn't care that he's too late. He doesn't care that this whole thing makes him a bigger piece of shit than he already was.

He'll be underhanded, he'll be dirty, he'll do anything to get Steve to leave with him, he doesn't fucking care. Because Steve Harrington is not going to get married today.

He waltzes right up to him. He grabs his chin and forces him to meet his eyes. He probably looks crazy, he feels crazy, "You don't love her like you love me."

He's never met her. He doesn't need to. The way Steve freezes up is all he needs to know that he's right.

He doesn't deny it, but he deflects, "Why are you doing this? You left me. Did you forget that part? I didn't end it. You did! A-And now what? We're just going to ride off into the sunset together? Like you weren't the one to just cut me out of your life-"

"Yes," Eddie interrupts. He feels calm, eerily so as he speaks, "We're riding off into the sunset together. Even though I don't deserve it. I never deserved you. And I was so fucking scared of when you would realize that. I let it eat away at me. So I left. Before you could do it to me. And I was wrong."

"Stop," Steve tries to step back, but Eddie won't let him. He wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close.

He can't stop talking, even if he wanted to, "I was so wrong Steve. And I've been miserable ever since. Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. I'll never stop thinking about you. Even if you tell me to go to hell and get hitched I'll just wait for a divorce. Because you are the only one for me. And it took me too long to say that out loud. And I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry Stevie."

Steve weakly tried to push him away, but his heart wasn't in it, "Please stop."

But he can't, "I love you."

Steve's eyes are closed, a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay, but his voice comes out strong, "Eddie, I-I can't do this again. I can't. If you left me again I...I just can't."

Eddie can't help but wipe a few of the tears away for him, "Angel, look at me."

He waits for Steve to open his eyes. He looks so fucking beautiful that it hurts, especially since this may really be the last time he sees him again.

But he has one more trick up his sleeve, "Tell me you're not mine and I'll leave."

"W-what?"

"Tell me you're not mine. Say the words out loud and I'll let you go."

Steve stares at him. He's mad, beyond pissed that Eddie has the audacity to throw that in his face, but he's desperate. It was the last thing he said to him, murmured through the driver's side window of the van, seconds before he drove away.

I'm still yours, even if you don't want me anymore.

Eddie had cried the entire ride there after hearing that. And then a few days after for good measure. And here he is, completely ruthless at what he's willing to pull out, "You're mine Steve. You know you're mine."

It's such a fucked up thing to say, but it's true. But it's not the whole truth, "And I'm yours. I've always been yours. Tell me that's not true and I'll leave."

But Steve can't. He can't do it, just like Eddie had known he wouldn't. But what he hadn't expected was for him to surge up and kiss him.

It feels like he fell in love all over again, just from one simple kiss. Because it felt like magic was real and it decided to take on the form of Steve Harrington's lips. It was everything he had missed. Everything he had dreamed about. Eddie tangled a hand into his hair, helpless to do anything but kiss him back, harder and deeper. He wanted to be burned into Steve's memory for all eternity. He wanted him to always remember the moment that they came back to each other.

Because that's what this is. Eddie's certain, Steve was his, and he would never let him go again.

They only stop when there is a knock at the door, a muffled question asked that they can't hear over the sounds of their own breathing. It's enough to have them pulling away from each other, but they ignore it nonetheless.

Steve searches his face, one last test. Eddie can only guess how he looks right now, probably just as desperate and terribly hopeful as he felt. Whatever he's looking for, he finds it eventually.

Steve sighs, glancing toward the back of the room, "There's a window we can probably fit through. Because I'm sure as hell not going out there."

Now it's Eddie's turn to cry. Despite all of his confidence, the certainty that they were supposed to be together, he hadn't really expected it to work. But here they were, giggling with each other as they scurried out of a first-floor window, making a run for Eddie's car.

Eddie can't help but kiss him again before they get in, muttering against his mouth, "I love you so fucking much Stevie. I'm not going to fuck this up again. You won't regret it, I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you don't."

Steve grinned into the kiss, "You better."

There was still so much to talk about. Too much. And they'll fight and they'll scream and everything will get worse before it gets better. And Eddie's so fucking grateful to get the chance.

And for the first time in three years, he feels alive again.

#steddie fic #steddie #steddie ficlet #look at me writing this instead of steddie wip i havent looked at for two weeks #idk where this came from #eddie munson #steve harrington #i do not condone this behavior but god damn is it romantic #if it helps it was a pretty shammy marriage to appease his family but that poor nonexistent bride is in for a bad time #but hey it's better than him cheating on you after you're married right?#wedding #ruined #whoops #its a bad idea to run away with your ex you havent seen in years but damn they did it anyway #angst is in there #breakup #they get back together in a very dramatic fashion

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trynafindbarbiee · 1 year

Note

VOID SUCCESS STORY <3

TW : Abusive family, bullying, suicide attempts!

Before I go straight into my success story I wanna THANKYOU from the bottom of my heart you are my fairy Angel and I love you more than anyone else bestiee :)

I'm sharing this here so everyone can see this

It's been so long since I've joined loa community but I always failed to manifest Consciously , I would constantly look for the 3D to change and I literally wasted years to learn how to manifest when it's the most easiest thing in the whole universe. Then luckly I came to know about the void state but I kept on failing I was unhealthy obsessed with the void with this my mental health became even worse I started to feel like not living anymore. I felt anxious very often, then one day I decided to end my life because things were getting terrible everyday. I attempted suicide and it failed and then the very first thing someone told me after this was "it failed because you deserve to live, you deserves the best, you deserves the world" And guess who it was! SHE WAS MY FAIRY ANGEL 🥺 YOU! MY BESTIEE <3 I'm very thankful to have a friend like you

What I've learnt over time is that these feelings are definitely not permanent and this too shall pass YES it hurts and survival feels difficult but the hope I got from my bestie (Barbie) throughout my recovery process is just unmatched, unexplainable especially for someone like me who keeps thinking that things will never get better. At the same time I was living in a abusive household I was being hated by my parents, friends, neighbours And one day IT'S nowhere near as bad as what you'll get, but my mom had a small amount of narcissist in her. SHE HELD MY HAND OVER A GAS STOVE because as an 15 year old I wrote something that she disagreed with in my journal. I experienced violence with my mother and father beating each other. Seeing drugs being used and knowing that there was something bad and wrong. I also seen my mother having sex with other men and once heard her having sex and I thought she was being beaten.As I got older, I began questioning her medieval methods. Whenever I brought it up, She would always say that she did it for my own good, or that she was showing me how the real world was like. As a baby, I was ferberized. I was sent to a daycare from the moment I could walk. My mother would often punch and slap me in the face, and so I developed a reflex where I put my hands near my head in defense if anyone raises their hands. I have been bullied and ridiculed.

I have overconsumed info to a point where I even started doubting bloggers and loa but then I met my fairy Angel, my life, my bestieeeee 🥺💗 Everyone, let me tell you all of you one thing that she's a real life Angel I swear! She was there with me when my own family was against me, she helped me through my toughest times, she never let me down, she took care of me like a big sister. I'M BLESSED TO HAVE A FREIND LIKE YOU CUTIE PIE <3! we started journey together and she entered the void but I was still struggling. When she messaged me telling that she did it I literally jumped out of my bed and cried, cried and cried I WAS SO HAPPY FOR HER. I got superrrr motivated after that so I took her advice and tried to enter the void once more but I still failed, I didn't enterbut she kept me motivated . She showed me the things and her mansion that she manifested so that I don't doubt void anymore and I'm so grateful to you for that . She told me to try to wake up in the void instead of entering I again listened her and tried and guess what! SHAMEFULLY I again failed , I was giving my power to a method, I didn't realize how powerful I AM.

After all the failed attempts I called Barbie and talked to her for 4 hours straight I told her all the things that were going on in my life and I cried a lot and even Barbie got emotional too and she cried for me I can't forget that day ever 🙂 she told me "Don't worry honey! It's never too late, I'll enter void for you and after that you will be free of all this bullshit" THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY LIKE I WAS NOT EXPECTING THISSSSSSS :) she already did so much for me and still she wanted to help me out, this is why I call you my Fairy Angel <3

And next day she did enter for me and affirmed that I'll wake up in the void but in the morning nothing happened I realized that I didn't woke up there I GOT SO DISCOURAGED and I told this to her and she said that I have to assume that I'll wake up in the void unless it will not work 🙁 I literally Slapped myself for doing such a stupid thing Not assuming that I'll wake up in the void :( But she again entered for me and again affirmed for me Like? How can someone be so nice?

AND THAT NIGHT I DID WOKE UP IN THE VOID 😩💗 I felt so relaxed there, I was in a whole dark space I manifested everything that I wrote in my journal , I was beyond happy that morning when I woke up in my dream apartment the first thing I did after seeing myself in my dream house was that I messaged barbie that WE DID IT 🥺 !!

Y'all are very lucky to have my bestie here , I love you honey, ily so much <3 God literally sent you for me

Sending you so much love, hugs and wet kisses 🤭

~ your beloved 🎀

The most beautiful SUCCESS STORY I ever saw !

Thankyou bub for sharing your story here too ♡

My eyes got wet while I was reading this :) like you are so sweet and strong! ily too and I always will and no need to thank me..Your life was exactly like mine bef I entered the void , I also experienced all this bullshit so I could understand your situation that's why I helped you so, no need to thank me 💗 You should thank yourself bc everytime u felt like ending ur life , everytime u felt like giving up YOU made it through... so thank youself honey ! <3 I'M SO PROUD YOU MAHH BESTIEEE

You also played a vital role in my journey !

I've been through a lot. I have been through things that I didn't even told u . I have been through things that I haven't told anyone . Because of the things that I've been through, I used have an EXTREMELY hard time trusting people. I used to overthink abt how to talk to you and share my feelings without making you feel bad or you thinking I'm dramatic. I don't know how to talk to you without it being awkward but not only u listened me but motivated me also even when u r going through the toughest time in ur life.... Yes I have so many friends But you r someone special , I love you differently than I love my any other friend. Yes we've been through hell. And it's been insane. But still we are together! ily ♡

Idk how do I put my happiness into words :) I'M JUST SO PROUD OF YOU

Enjoy ur life to the max <3

#void state #void success #void state success story

1K notes · View notes

iznsfw · 9 months

Text

Drunken

Loossemble's Son Hyeju x Male Reader Smut

19,012 words

Categories | cheating, longtimecrush!Hyeju, mutual feelings, drunk sex, daddy kink (and daddy issues), fingering, squirting, titfucking, anal, choking

Thank you for commissioning! Researched for the fic, ended up falling in love with Son Hyeju. Please give this a chance and read this for the story, too, and not only the smut. I indulged too much in this.

The relationship Hyeju and OC have is very much inspired by the one Cassy and Rob have in In the Woods by Tana French. Read it, please. Was amazing. The story was also written with someone I'm currently so in love with in mind, but we're not going to talk about that here.

And no, there's never enough daddy kink stories :P

“This is not fair,” the two of you say the very second you step into your shared dorm.

Two papers in two hands of two people that show two scores that aren’t up to par for the two’s standards. You and Hyeju were always meant to be a dynamic duo: peas in a pod in every way possible, and that includes academic success and failure. It’s like there’s a kind of telepathic force between you that sends the other down with you, too. It’s too late to try and cut the connection when you’ve known Hyeju all your life, a wish that’s beyond reality for plenty of the boys at Idalso.

The dorm is clean. Mostly. You’ve done your best to tidy up the pile of clothes at the end of Hyeju’s bunk bed and she’s done the same for the relatively empty bags of chips you haven’t stopped the habit of laying around, but there’s still the telltale signs that if Hyeju isn’t organized, you aren’t either. Printed drafts of your thesis lay crumpled on the floor. Her posters are minutes away from falling off the poorly painted walls. The air-conditioner doesn’t work as well as it did in your freshman year when your rowdiness outdoors—knocking into each other, trying to race to the door and ending up messing up the other’s clothes that were ironed in a rush—isn’t as compensating.

Today, the rowdiness is lost. It gets translated into rough groans that follow you on the way to the dorms.

That’s when you realize it.

You and Hyeju look at each other. Both of your pairs of eyes widen.

“Miss Ha failed your test?” she asks, normally bored pupils widening in disbelief.

“Miss Ha failed my test.”

“No erasure rule?”

“No erasure rule.”

“Oh my god.”

Ball up the paper and shoot it in the air. It adds to the numerous pieces of parchment on the floor. You kick the rest of them in the air while your roommate slumps on her bed and groans.

“Fuck this,” you say, hands on your head. There comes the urge to tear all your hair out and leave it at that damned professor’s door, blood and all, to make her at least feel a miniscule bit of remorse for failing you. You didn’t deserve that. You studied and studied and she still had to implement that stupid rule.

Hyeju catches a wrinkled and crumpled paper globe. Her sui generis lips release a soft sigh. “At least we have thesis confetti,” she says sullenly.

“I’m dropping out,” you declare. You’re surprised at how serious you sound. Normally you’d say it just to get a laugh out of yourself, but now you’re actually considering doing it.

“If you drop out, I’m dropping out, too,” she answers, looking at you spitefully. “And then who’s going to take care of Daniel?”

Think of Daniel. He isn’t your roommate but he’s gotten close with you and Hyeju the past few years. “His inheritance is what’s gonna take care of him. Did you forget he’s rich as shit?”

“Oh, right. How could I forget about him?”

You start picking up the papers of your drafts faster and knocking them harder into the wall. Why are you doing that? Nope, don’t have an answer to that. There’s a fiery rage inside you that Hyeju’s latest sentence is the arsonist of.

“The fuck are you doing?” she asks in amusement. There’s a hint of disgust on her face. “Calm down. What’re you, my dad or something?”

“S-sorry.” You know the whole deal she has with her dad. You have to stop—thus, drop the balls of papyrus from your hand. “It was just… I don’t know why I did that.”

Maybe you do. Can’t be about the test though it’s why you started throwing a thesis tantrum.

“Chill out, dude.” She pats your shoulder and gives you a pouty look. “If you want to play strict dad with me: no, I don’t like Daniel. If I did, I would have sat on his lap and said,” she assumes a high voice and flutters her eyelashes at you, leaning on your side, “‘Let me help you with that, darling. I’ll do the dishes, too! Or maybe you want to put a baby in me while I squeeze the soap on your di—’”

“Stoooop!”

Throw a pillow at her. She dodges it and sticks her tongue out at you. Oh yeah. How could you forget that she plays dodgeball with the friend who’s taken up the topic of your conversation?

Oh god, shouldn’t have reminded yourself that Hyeju and your other friend hang out. You’re feeling weird again.

“Earth to daddy, Earth to daddy,” she says, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Li’l shit, what’s gotten into you?”

You’re feeling something again. It creeps into your heart and tugs at its strings, just like how your roommate loves to tie knots in yours and watch you struggle around trying to walk with them. That’s how it felt when she called you that. It’s not the first time she took on a roleplaying banter with you yet that specific title has you hot.

You need to take a walk. Take a walk to somewhere that doesn’t have you in a place where you could easily pin Son fucking Hyeju to the wall and kiss her till the heat subsides.

Walking is your only exercise. You care not for the gyms and weights—why pressure yourself with those when you could just go for a simple walk? An hour is already sufficient enough to burn the breakfast. Only downside is that you get quite hungry afterwards, and though you don’t care for counting calories either, you’re pretty sure the food you have after your strolls is more than the amount you burned.

Actually, you could think of another downside: Hyeju doesn’t join you. She’s a homebody. A couch potato. A living pillow. She prefers to lounge at the dorm and play games instead of going out. She rarely comes along, which is why you’re guaranteed a few hours of isolation.

When you take into consideration that it isn’t isolation if tentative feelings accompany you, you’re partly glad Hyeju didn’t come along.

“Hey, is that you?”

You smile. There he is. You always pass by the apartments this time, and the old man who owns it is one of the few people you’re fond of. Being friends with a landlord wasn’t on your college bingo card, but you’re glad it happened. He’s kind, has white hair that almost matches the color of the spaces he owns, and a mouth that can simultaneously be like that of a sailor’s and a doting grandfather.

“Hi, mister Kim.”

“Hi there yourself,” he chirps. His smile is bright. Can’t say the same about the flickering bulb back in your dorm. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

Red colors your cheeks. “Hyeju’s not my girlfriend.”

“Never said she was.” He winks.

The explosion of scarlet first starts at your ears. He got you. But it isn’t exactly you to blame—everyone likes to push you and your girl best friend together. The old man knows what he’s doing. He just likes to toy around with you.

“Mister Kim, don’t be like that,” you say. Scratch the back of your neck.

“I’ll be however the hell I want,” he replies, crossing his arms t in a friendly stance. “You two’re always glued to each other.”

“We’re just friends, sir.”

“Just friends my ass. Whenever that girl visits me, she’s always talking about you. It’s like you’re the only thing on her mind.”

That revelation was so out of nowhere, yet you welcome it. You like knowing that Hyeju, the girl you adore, adores you just as much. It’s the mutual feeling of fondness that keeps you breathing.

“T-that doesn’t mean anything,” you say humbly. You’re somewhat right—just because Hyeju hides the truth that she drones on about you doesn’t mean she has a crush on you. You’ve seen and met her exes, and even back then they’re miles more charming than you.

“Wanna bet?”

“I’m broke—”

“No, no. Not in that way.” He shakes his head. “If you and Hyeju actually end up together, I’m letting you live in one of my apartments for free.”

“Mister Kim—”

“Think about it for your old man, will you?”

With that, he shows you a knowing smile and turns his back. Nothing more is said.

Just so it’s clear for everyone who comes across this story of yours: you don’t love Son Hyeju.

Anyone and everyone says the opposite. They treat you and her like famed characters on a popular teen show, pairing you up with each other and tearing off all hesitancy about thinking that they might be going too far.

But now you’re here to make a stand against those falsehoods: contrary to popular belief, Son Hyeju isn’t the love of your life, and although you’ve been friends for so long people’d expect you walked into kindergarten class with your hand in hers, it’s completely platonic between the two of you.

There are no feelings. No speck of a disgusting yearning in your hearts despite the late night stroll you had to take to stop your wistful thoughts. No sir. Hyeju doesn’t love you that way, and neither do you. It’s simple.

Doesn’t seem that simple when you wake up in the dorm with what’s supposed to be a groan that folds itself back down your throat when you see her curled up in the other bed, blankets splayed and curled around her. No makeup on, except for lip balm she smears around her triangle-shaped mouth when they get chapped. No care for how she looks in the air (doesn’t matter when that’s the way you like it, the way she likes it). She lies there with slumber that could only be induced by an unmerciful college.

You’re glad you have her while you’re battered by the same cause of her sleep.

You try to be silent but her eyes open anyway. Her eyes are squinted, and she kind of looks like an emoticon as she pers around. She doesn’t know when or where she is. Grin because neither do you sometimes, but now that you hold that knowledge, you share it with her.

“Earth to Hyeju, Earth to Hyeju.” Echo her words from last night and resound them back to her.

“Earth?” she groans. “Wake me up when Idalso sends me to Mars.”

Yeah, that’s the Hyeju you know. The Hyeju you love.

(Huh? Where did that come from?)

“I’ll go with you. Could use miss Jeong not trying to kill me.”

Hyeju runs a hand through her hair groggily and smiles sweetly. “Maybe she should come along and go through with killing you if you don’t stop ‘forgetting’ to pay me that five thousand.”

“Cute. I’ll pay you later, I promise.” Rise to sling the blinds up, letting light five-thirty a.m. sun spill through the squares. “Catch some breakfast at McDonald’s before class?” you offer. She’s your usual companion in the morning—you’d split the bill (because “you’re broke, and I’m broke,” she said, “it’s only fair we try to stop being poor together”) and have a nice opening meal of egg and chicken nuggets.

“Sweetie, it’s Saturday today,” she reminds you. “Don’t you remember?” She looks up from her phone and smiles at you condescendingly, as if she knew how that friendly nickname causes your system to shut down.

You try not to show it. Try not to make it obvious that you turned your head to hide the fact that you were flustered. The fact that despite being only friends with her your chest still tightens at her casual pet names for you, like what she called you last night as well. It’s what friends do: joke with each other, call them unflattering names one second then sweet ones the next. The dorm has enough fans to keep the air circulated, and the sweat you broke last night is gone. So if that’s that, why do you feel so warm right now?

You wonder if Hyeju also feels the same heat in her stomach when you say, “Grandpa can’t remember things well anymore, darling. You’ve got to cut him some slack.”

“Wow, okay. That’s one way to put it, I guess.”

It’s lucky that it’s still dark enough for your red ears to be invisible. You hate it when you mess up your laid-back persona in front of Hyeju, the one you put up whenever you engage in these playful arguments. “Look,” you say, “do you want to get McDonald’s or not?”

“Can’t. Won’t. Shan’t. Too lazy.”

Your heart sinks. “Fine, I’ll just go to a café then. Still have that thesis to do.”

Hyeju lays back into the bed and shuts her eyes. She’s learned that when there’s a chance to sleep, she should take it. To you, it doesn’t look like she’ll let go of this one, even if rejecting it means eating together with you.

You put on a coat and some shoes, then turn away. Fine, let her be like that. What did you even expect? You can’t be her only priority in life. Sleep, of course, and rest should come first, especially if you’re a college student. You have to brush the hurt creeping in your heart and do your own thing, just like you’d let her do hers.

Don’t catch her eyes opening and lingering on you. Your back is turned and therefore doesn’t let you see it. But if only you did, you wouldn’t have been doubtful about your future concerns, all related to her.

This is a different story though. This isn’t a love story—if anything, it’s how a love story ends.

Just so it’s clear for everyone who comes across this story of yours: you don’t love Son Hyeju.

Yes, it bears repeating. Sometimes you need to say it again to convince yourself. Convince yourself that you’re not constantly in lectures wishing that it was her beside you instead of your groupmate. Convince yourself that your soul doesn’t shatter in pieces when she refuses to join you in anything.

Maybe you just need someone to talk it out with. Yes, that’s right. The whimsical yearning in your heart isn’t for Hyeju. You swear on it.

Oh, but you’ve never been very good at that.

“What’s going on? I came as quick as I could,” says Daniel. Yeah, that’s his name. It’s a common name that sounds foreign and unique, especially since he’s a transfer student who came from the U.S.. He has pale skin and brown eyes that are as kind as he is. You like him—he’s the only one you bother bearing besides Hyeju.

But this isn’t about her. You need to let go of her. What? “Let go of her”? Why do you think about her like you two were actually a thing?

“Nothing. Just… feelings.”

“Something happened?” He sits down and looks around confusedly. “Wait, where’s Hyeju?”

“That’s the thing,” you say as you smile tightly. “She’s what happened.”

Daniel’s not stupid. And even if we say that he was, he’s been your friend for two years. It’s short in comparison to your time with Hyeju, you know, but it remains impressive. You don’t have that many friends besides them. That, of course, eventually led to Hyeju and Daniel becoming friends with each other. That’s the reason for him catching your drift—he knows you like the back of his hand.

You order the third cheapest option on the list: an iced latte. Your friend opts for a croissant and some tea, something that reminds you that he isn’t actually from Korea. You often forget that when his Korean is more fluent than a native’s and he gels with other people so quickly. He’s an easy-going guy with everything flowing well for him.

“Let me guess: she did something?” he asks. Alright, close enough. His fingers drum a steady rhythm on the table while yours do so on your laptop keyboard.

“Yeah.” Shake your head immediately and contradictingly. What are you saying? “No. Yeah, probably. But I think it’s my fault.”

No, it isn’t a mere probability of it being your fault. It is your fault. Why are you placing expectations on Hyeju to show up for you? It isn’t on her that you get hurt when she doesn’t have the time or willpower to come along with you. So, why are you even bothering to talk about this? You should let this matter slide. Brush it under the carpet. Rewrite the news headlines. Whatever.

“Ah, couple’s quarrels,” Daniel says teasingly. He thanks the waiter for his croissant then takes a healthy bite into it. “Out of the honeymoon phase already?”

Should you be delighted that people think that she’s yours and you’re hers? You’re split between these two emotions—choose to be frustrated instead.

“Why does everybody think that we’re a couple?”

“Well.” Your friend twirls his teaspoon into the dainty cup. Drill your eyes on it. The café is simple and affordable to eat from, but the furniture and aesthetic make you think of it as a fancier place to eat it. “You’re always together.”

“That’s all?”

“Let me finish. When some guy has the balls to ask her out, she says she has a boyfriend. She shows him your profile and number. She goes, ‘My boyfriend wouldn’t be too happy about that.’”

The latte somehow doesn’t finish its journey through the straw. “She does?”

You’re split between two thoughts to go by again. You should be happy that your friend, a friend who’s a girl moreover (never confuse a friend who’s a girl with a girlfriend—ever), feels safe enough with you to refer to you as someone who’d protect her, whether from creeps or the aggressive dogs that patrol your college grounds. It takes real trust to call a guy who’s a friend (again, avoid the confusion) your boyfriend when the time requires it. This means she trusts you to come to her if she needs saving from an odd guy or an escape out of situations.

But at the same time, you wonder if that’s what you really are to her, what you’ll only ever be to her: a fake boyfriend. The guy friend who doesn’t mind being called a boyfriend because he knows his low place in her heart. Does Hyeju even look at you as someone who’s not just an acquaintance?

“Yeah,” Daniel says matter-of-factly. “She really likes having you around.”

You don’t need to think about it when you reply, softly: “I do, too.”

The two of you sit in silence you don’t know the source of. Daniel stops eating suddenly. Similarly, all the appetite is lost and you have to put your plastic cup of latte down before you throw it at the wall and ruin the dining experience for everyone else. No, this is your problem. You should deal with it before dragging anyone into it.

“So, why did you call me? What is it about Hyeju?”

Ah, what are you thinking? Daniel shouldn’t even be here. Why did you even call him over? You did and now you don’t know why you suddenly want to throw the contents of your plastic cup into his face. If you give in, you’d be feeding into the delusion that he’s the one standing between you and Hyeju.

That only leads to the second question of the day:

Why do you suddenly hate Daniel? Daniel is a nice guy. He doesn’t even make a move on her or disrespect her.

You don’t like these feelings. It’s causing you to think all sorts of nonsense about everybody else, not excluding Daniel, who hasn’t done anything wrong.

“I…” Sigh. This is the second time you’re finding an escape route so that you could be alone with your feelings. “I have to think about it. I need some time alone.”

“Oh, sure. Sorry about that.”

Hate how more guilt washes over your heart. See here, he doesn’t even protest or say something that might even be right, like tell you how you called him to come over in the first place or how there isn’t a good reason why he should leave. He simply wraps his croissant with a plastic he asked for at the counter and leaves, tea and all.

Great. Now you’re alone, like you usually are and always will be. Attempt to use it as a pro and work on your thesis. Type it all down on a Word document. Wait patiently, as you learned to, as your old laptop stops for the suffering you’ve caused it with the extra storage taken up by assignments. Contact your groupmates. Remind them to do their jobs.

It’s all going so well. That’s when she pulls up to the cafe you’ve been writing at with her hands perched on the wooden surface of your table, with the smirk that doesn’t ever leave without making sure it’s her certified look featured on her lips.

No need to mention names when there's only one girl who could make your world stop spinning.

You can’t stop staring, and it’s not even because she turned up out of nowhere. You’re always in a state of shock when Hyeju is around.

She never allows her hair to be restrained in a tight tail, so there she is with those luscious black locks spilling all over her shoulders. How she manages to look so cool and be the very person everyone wishes to be while having those soft cheeks only the evillest of people wouldn’t pinch you don’t know. Son Hyeju is cool and cute at the same time, somehow balancing those everyday without effort.

But you don’t love her. Just to remind everyone once again. No matter what happens, you have no feelings for her. And that’s that.

"Hey," she says, putting her weight on one arm. Then she curves down her head to peer at your screen. "Whatchu doin'?"

Immediately slam your laptop shut and look at her with annoyed eyes. Oh, why do you even try? You could never despise her. You could pray to god all night and day for you to hate Hyeju, to hate her to the ends of the Earth just to banish these strange feelings, and he wouldn't give in. Crazier and crazier her antics shall get and you'd remain loyal to her.

And that's all because she's a good friend. That's everything there is to it.

Wait. Who are you convincing again?

"Oh, come on. Smile a little, pretty boy." Hyeju places a finger on one edge of your mouth then pulls it upwards. "There you go. Suh-miiile—"

Pretty boy. She called me a pretty boy.

"You p-plan on getting off the table or what?" you say.

People are staring at you and Hyeju but that isn't what's making you blush. What's gotten into you? You can't tell yourself it's because of her simply because it isn't because of her. Hyeju has as much effect on you as a cup of coffee.

(You thrive off caffeine, by the way, but that's not the point.)

"Sure. No. Uh… probably?" She looks up at the ceiling as if she's figuring something out, then clicks her tongue when she does. "Yep, nah."

Groan.

Secretly, confessed only in the deepest corners of your mind, you like people paying attention to you and Hyeju. It’s not much about the attention itself but the way it makes them think that the two of you must be really close. Like, really really close. The kind that makes those who want Hyeju rush to her only to be met in the face with a barrier: you. They can’t have her because you do.

Not in that way, of course, but it still means something. If she has you, nobody else could, and if you have her, more so.

"Son Hyeju,” you say, fighting back the smile on your face as she ruffles your hair, “I swear to god—"

"Oh, please," says Hyeju, leaning forward with narrowed eyes and a wicked smile, "spare me, oppa. Spare me the blasphemy—"

That's enough from her, you think. Your hands dive for her waist. Pull her down onto your lap. Your thighs soften the blow and also play the role of a launch pad as one kick sends Hyeju in the air. More chances to tickle her come along with it. Okay, that bit about the lap was wholly unintentional, and you'll swear to god again for that.

What isn't unintended though is the tickling you do on Hyeju's midriff and arms. It helps that she's so sensitive—soon she's laughing boisterously, struggling in your lap with her head upturned and triangle-shaped mouth letting out unkempt guffaws. She nearly kicks the two of you out of the café seat.

"Dude, you are such a loser, stop!" she laughs, still winding around like a screw on top of you. Laughs alternate between each syllable. "P-people are looking, fffucking quit—"

When that beautiful gummy smile breaks on her face, you don't want to. People can look as much as they like and you wouldn't give a damn. Tickling is Hyeju's punishment, and you'll do it to her anywhere to teach her a lesson.

"Ha, haha, I'm sorry, okay!"

"That's my girl."

You’re not hurt anymore. For a few delicious minutes, you’ll forget you were ever pondering if you like her or not.

Stop completely because you’re easy to convince like that All she needed was that one magic word. Place her on the chair beside you and fold her hands on her lap as if she were a misbehaving child.

"Now behave yourself."

Hyeju rolls her eyes. "And if I don't?" she challenges you.

You raise your fingers in a curled position and direct them threateningly centimeters away from her ticklish spots. She gives up. She can't find a punishment worse than that.

"Why are you here anyway? I thought you didn’t want to come," you say, taking the liberty to open your laptop again. The screen directs you to your assignment tab after you type in your password. Sigh; still five thousand words to go.

"I'm here because I've got nowhere else to be," she answers. She practices her own liberty, too, and sips shamelessly at your iced beverage.

Her eyes light up at the taste. "I got bored being alone in the dorm."

You think of her alone, and your heart immediately sinks. Maybe you should have stayed there. You’re her roommate—you’re there for her to have company. Sure, the roommates were paired up randomly, but it must lead to something now that you and Hyeju have met again. It was by pure chance that she reunited with you after years of being apart. There’s a string drawing you together, and you don’t know what it means.

You do know that the reunion with your childhood best friend and seeing how she’s grown made your heart flutter. You act all mean when you’re around her, which is confusing when you’ve missed her so much.

"And I needed somewhere else to finish this thesis before miss Wong realizes it was due three weeks ago." Glare pointedly at her. Here you go again. Told you so. "Somewhere that's not occupied by a brat."

It's true. Call it what you will: an insult, a pointless accusation, but what you said rings true even in your childhood best friend's defiant mind. She could be a handful often.

"I am not a brat," she says, offended. She knows the truth and chooses to deny it. Typical. You should have seen that coming when she’s the girl who lies about the extra dishes in the sink not being her fault and her turn with the laundry.

Sigh. Act as the lawyer; you’re studying to be one anyway. It’s best to practice. "Remember when you cut up the slogan on the mayo label then taped it on me? I had 'white creamy filling; taste me!' on my back for the whole day!"

"It was a big-ass sticker for a mayonnaise, okay? I couldn't stop myself." Hyeju admits this with hands raised in defeat. "But what about that time you shoved a Toblerone in my mouth while I was sleeping then took a photo of me?"

Raise your hands, too. You realize there's no way to weigh in the blame on a single person when you and Hyeju brought the brat out of each other. It's impossible to go by a day that isn't filled by at least one prank and joking quarrels.

Still, you find it fun. Hyeju's so easy to bond with, so easy to love.

Whoa, where did that suddenly get here? Like you said, you love Hyeju, but only as a friend.

So you do love her, in a way. Huh.

That realization settles in and suddenly you're rendered frozen at the table. Your hands that ought to be finishing your schoolwork are frozen in mid-air. You're staring at the screen like you were watching a gory movie instead of trying to tick off your to-do list.

"You okay?" she asks, one-of-a-kind lips sealed around the paper straw. "You kind of, like, went to another dimension for a bit."

How do you tell her you’re considering the fact that you might actually like her? You’ve known her for years. Something’s inevitably going to bloom inside you for her, right?

"Y-yeah. I'm good." Not. “And stop drinking my coffee.”

“You wouldn’t need it if you just did the thesis early. What’s so hard about it anyway?” Hyeju stands then bends over to glance at your laptop.

You don’t realize how short her dress is. It rides up to the centers of her thighs and you don’t know how to prevent anyone from seeing something forbidden without brushing down the hem of her dress. If you went down that road, you’d have to run your hand along her back and ass—you’d look like a pervert.

Idiot. Think of something. Something that isn’t how you’d love to see more when you're just like everyone and shouldn't be allowed more eye access to her body. Only you know how many times Hyeju’s body came up in your mind when you were alone. Paired up with that attractive face that held a permanent pout, it’s impossible not to think of anything else.

“Ugh! You are so dumb, you know that, oppa?” To your horror, Hyeju sits down neatly on your lap. She has her hands quickly frisking on your keyboard. “There’s a comma missing here, and a citation over here… oh, and a—”

“Save some for the rest of us!” a man about your age and height yells jokingly, cheering you on with a raise of his mug of hot coffee.

Both you and Hyeju look at him with confusion written all over your faces. Your words of surprise almost sync and match with the other for you realize your hands are on her hips, and Hyeju’s leaning back so comfortably in you that anyone would have thought it was another case of couple’s PDA. They’d be wrong though. She’s not your girlfriend. She can’t be your girlfriend.

So why is she so comfortable on top of you, as if she’s always been there? Why did your hands naturally rest on the beautiful slopes of her hips and pull her down the moment she stooped?

The guy’s grandmother smiles adoringly. “Young love,” she says with a dreamy tinge to her aged voice. "What wouldn't I give to experience that again."

You and Hyeju meet each other’s gazes and suddenly you’re unattached to each other. She guiltily settles on her chair and you take your hands off her. That was wrong. Why were the two of you so comfortable with being so touchy? Best friends don’t do that. At least, not best friends of the opposite sex.

“I should go,” she stammers, standing up. “Call me i-if you need help, oppa.”

Just like that, she’s gone. Where did she go? Why did you lose her so fast?

Hyeju’s always called you oppa one way or another, but that moment left a particular jar in your heart. It shards the depths of the core and renders you speechless. You didn’t know that the person you’d love to hear that title the most from is your best friend. She’s supposed to call you that when she’s younger, but even if she weren’t, you’d still love to hear her call you that.

There’s a sense of fulfillment in being able to be Hyeju’s oppa. The one she always relies on. The one she sticks to through whatever happens. That’s why now that she’s told you to call her if you need help makes you ache. It’s the things that are seemingly so simple as that that send more yearning inside you.

The question is: what exactly are you yearning for? Who are you yearning for?

You think you know the answer. It’d take guts to admit it, to finally come clean. But what’s there to come clean about? You don’t love Hyeju.

A ding from your phone just now. You’re nearly finished with the thesis, and it’s lucky that way since it’s from Hyeju. God knows she has ways of distracting you. Her clean moves at the dance she led and her chill yet stern voice when she commands a rowdy classroom steer you away from what you should be doing, like get away from her. Avoid her at all costs. Never tell her what you’re feeling because it’ll only end up badly for everyone involved. You don’t want to hurt Hyeju, and still you remain hopeful to not get yourself hurt, too.

It takes several seconds for courage to tie you down and pick up the phone. It’s a series of texts from her.

HyejU_U: hey

Sooooooooo

I’m sorry for what happened earlier.

I didn’t really think and thought that you'd be fine with it

cause yknow

You pulled me down

and

We’re friends.

right?

Yeah, we’re friends, you think bitterly. And no matter how touchy you get, Son Hyeju, it’s all we’ll ever be to you.

HyejU_U: can we just move forward from it? If you want to ofc

Do you? Graduation is near and it’s still taken plenty of years of your life to get over Hyeju. Do you go forward and start on a new slate with her, or dwell in places you shouldn’t be?

Your fingers linger on the keyboard, then—

You: Sure.

Sorry, too

if i like

Made you feel uncomfortable

Wasnt my intention, i promise

HyejU_U: oh you didnt make me feel uncomfy at all.

So don’t worry <3

What a relief.

HyejU_U: i should be the one apologizing anyway

I thought it would be nice to be on you since ur arms feel good around me

Cock a brow. A giddy smile itches at the ends of your lips. Stifle it you will, though she can’t see you through her screen.

HyejU_U: sorry again

i just wanted to see if what i thought was true

Anyways.

yeah, sorry.

You: so we’re good?

HyejU_U: we have a deal, dickface

;)

See, this is the thing you’re afraid to lose with Hyeju: the carefreeness of your little friendly touches and hugs, insults that take it just far enough, everything. If you told her how you felt (keep in mind that you might not actually like her romantically; you’re just thinking that you might), you’d lose your relationship with her—the one that formed before the two of you even knew what romance was. The one that’s kept the reunion as natural as could be without the need for awkwardness.

You’re so glad to have her back. As a student you’ve nearly cried knowing you passed a semester and worked night and day to finish a difficult assignment—none of those feelings can match the one of relief you felt when Hyeju told you everything was good on both ends.

But for now, you’ve gotta try to put a dent into this thesis. You’re almost done, you swear. You’ve just been stalling—not intentionally. You swear on that, too. Your whole afternoon’s been swamped up in thoughts about her plus the thoughts about if you’re too perverted a man to be with her. There are a lot of questions left by you immediately responding to Hyeju choosing to sit on your lap. A lot of which are left unanswered.

Priorities. Sigh a little; there’s still work to be done, yet worrying about your best friend is on top of the list. You really should find a hobby when you’re already dragging your teammates behind. Plus, there’s the capstone to worry about that you haven’t prepared for even in the most miniscule bit. So there really shouldn’t be an explanation for why thinking about what she thinks of you is your number one priority. Why, you have plenty of other things to worry about.

You just can’t get her off your mind. These days it’s impossible to.

Abstain anyway, the best you can, from thinking about her and finally complete the thesis. It’s lengthy, well-edited, and has the perfect format to finally make you a lawyer. Attorney doesn’t sound too bad when it’s added to the front of your name.

You should celebrate, actually. The moment you think of it, Daniel suddenly messages you. He’s saying something about it being a Saturday, so you should go to the bar with him. You’re a social drinker, anyway. You could go there without going overboard. Addictions and vices form in these years of fresh adulthood, but you’ve never found yourself wound up in something.

So you do. They ask for your IDs and let you in after a short study of the cards. The guard gives you a lengthy lecture about not being alcoholics as young as you are, but welcomes you anyway.

If we’re talking about getting yourself wound up in someone, though…

“Dude,” Daniel says. He motions his glass to someone coming from the door. “Hyeju.”

You already know he’s rich, but what teacher did he pay to study him into mind-reading? “I wasn’t thinking about her,” you tell him defensively.

“No, I mean, she’s here.” He stares at said woman walking over to the bar with swaying hips. “How the fuck did she get here?”

Hyeju’s here? Swallow. Quick. What do you say? Where exactly in the bar is she right now? Why is she here? When did she get here? Why the fuck are you talking like a news reporter?

“Hullo, boys.” She stops your train of thought and makes sure to dedicate all of them to her with her hands set on the table and a pretty crop top attached to the curves on her perfect body. You wonder where she got that dress. If she thrifted it, it isn’t obvious—her body does good work in making it look like couture.

“Hi, Hyeju.” Daniel acknowledges her with a nod. He’s a friend of yours and hers, just to remind everyone. He wouldn’t take another step with Hyeju, but you still have yourself staring daggers into his stubbled beard that lines his face and how he takes life as he would a game. There’s a reason why you’re the least tipsy among the two of you. He likes a challenge.

“Hi,” you say meekly. Hope your voice doesn’t sound twisted when your stomach suddenly is. Oh, and it’s not because of Hyeju. It’s the alcohol, pinky promise with a finger heart after. Alcohol’s never made your stomach turn this way though.

Hyeju regards the shotglasses. “You went drinking without me?”

“What does it look like?” Daniel asks, giving her the finger. It’s just the usual friendly argument that doesn’t cross lines or anything. The ones that you and Hyeju have. Why do you feel like punching him in the face?

Luckily, she doesn’t have a fragile heart. “Cute. Keep it that way.” She rolls her eyes then turns to you. “Oh, and you. I thought you liked having me around.”

“I’m sorry.” Ask the bartender for another shot then hand it to her. “I guess we just thought you were busy with training.”

She’s training to become an idol. It’s been her dream since she was a kid, when you played in the slides and dropped from monkey bars. She’s always told you she was going to be big someday, and you never doubted that for a second. She even had a name she planned to use if she were to be a performer: Olivia Hye. You weren’t gonna lie, it had a nice ring to it. Not too bad for a name she made up after skimming through a baby name book from the bookstore.

“I dropped out,” she says simply, downing the shot like water.

“What?” you and Daniel ask together. Both of your voices sync with the shock, too. Neither of you could get why she did that. It’s been Hyeju’s dream to become an idol for so long. She couldn’t give that up just like that, but she did.

“Yep.” There’s pride in her voice. “The whole thing was a shithole. I already have Idalso to deal with. I’m not gonna put up with that, fuck no.”

Your heart aches for her dream. Idalso University really is blocking her from achieving it. She could be out there on the stage, maybe having found a better agency, singing and dancing her heart out. Instead, she has to choose one problem at the time and hence goes with college. She has her own parents to please, and because you have yours, you get it. You truly do.

As for Hyeju getting a problem off her mind, like that terrible agency, your spirits lift. You raise a glass and clink it with hers.

“To getting the hell out of this shithole,” you say; look at the girl you’ve lived for and loved with a smile, “and Son fucking Hyeju for doing it again.”

Your glasses meet. You’re somehow happy that it’s only two, yours and hers, that join. You can’t explain it for the life of you, but you like seeing Daniel become like a background character to it all. Just another extra in Hyeju’s show and yours. It’s cruel, especially when he’s been nothing but a good friend, but it is what it is.

“Tell you what,” Daniel says. “Let’s go to a noraebang tomorrow.”

She’s contemplative. “Isn’t the one near Idalso… like, expensive?”

“So what?” He shrugs. “You did it, Hyeju. You got out of that company thing. I’m done with my capstone and so is he with his thesis. I say we all have some fun. On me.”

Daniel has the privilege of not worrying about things being expensive or not. It’s the norm for him. You kind of want him to play Dorothy and put himself in your shoes, then make him go through what you did.

You know it isn’t fair and he’s just being kind. Still and all, your hatred rises.

“What now?” Daniel asks. “You guys in!”

“Of course!” Hyeju nods and claps her hands together. There’s a gummy smile on her face again. You’ve seen it on her many times, but you’ve also seen the sunset everyday—therefore, you’ll still be glad to catch a glimpse of it.

You guess since she’s in, you have to go, too. You say yes and that of course you’d love to go, and this time three glasses clink together prettily. Smiles are on each of your faces albeit yours is artificial.

"Could you act any less like a deadbeat dad?" Hyeju asks. She sits down on the stool beside you after Daniel leaves to get some air. Still feels like he's here when you feel like everyone's eyes are on you and her.

"I'm not doing anything." You say that because you aren't. You definitely aren't stirring a brew of jealousy inside you that poisons the maker, too. You're its creator yet the prophecy that was written tells that it'll turn against you, too. You’re Kronos, and it's an inevitable fate.

"Exactly. That's what deadbeat means." This matter-of-fact statement from her is followed by Hyeju stealing your shotglass out of your hand right before you drink it. "Seriously, dude. What's up with you?"

Oh, you don't know. Maybe her possibly being your crush? It's such an immature matter, but you haven't had a crush like this. The others were just sweet-faced and from afar. Those are the girls you dream of. To have a girl like Hyeju, the one you've known since forever, with a spunky personality but an opposing pretty face, the one who's been your ride-or-die—it's complicated.

What else could you say to her when the truth is something you'd rather she not hear?

"I'm fine, Hye."

"Are you? You look…" She thinks about it for a while as she studies your hair and poorly combined outfit choices. She slicks your blunt strands back and smiles teasingly. "...sleazy."

"Fuck y—"

"Shhh." She places a finger on your lips. The side of her thigh touches your lap. You're so close that any word you utter won't pass without hitting her. "It's okay. I like it."

You purse your lips. You didn't expect that. She's taken seats on your lap that were uninitiated by you and let you lift her in the air when you hug her. All that and her fingers in your hair are the most surprising.

"You're drunk," you say, although she’s only had a few shots.

Hyeju inches closer to you and holds your chin in place. "I'm sober as the next wolf, sweetie," she tells you. Her next words fail to show her hesitance. "And… and it just so happens that I really, really want to kiss you."

She's joking. She's playing around with your heart. You're not a virgin—you know what girls do. Hyeju doesn't strike you as the type to do that in spite of what’s going on, but you have to be careful. Your heart’s been bruised too many times already.

Careful isn't the word for it when you take the first step and lean in for a kiss. Maybe you're drunk yourself. Dizziness enchants your mind as Hyeju's dreamy lips perfectly pout to the shape of your mouth. Her eyes are closed. It's like she's in a restful dream.

You can’t believe you’re doing it. You’re kissing her. Passionately, too—there’s real determination in the way you hungrily lean forward to devour her lips.

The bar oohs and ahhs, then erupts into a crowd of applause. A few whistles come your way. You can feel Hyeju smile into your mouth.

Proclivities upon proclivities to keep her around you and only you couldn’t stop Monday from coming. You’ve only been to a noraebang once and that was with your family. It excites you to go to one again. However, you’d rather have only Hyeju to come, to be the exclusive member of the club that gets to hear her soft, pretty voice echo in the mic.

She’s really doing a number on you. Daniel’s your friend—sure, he might be out of touch with the local games and experiences, yet he’s still important to you. You can’t be mad at him over a girl who probably doesn’t even think the kiss at the bar was anything special. She hasn’t even talked about it with you and acts like it didn’t happen. Just another boy, just another day. That’s probably how you are to her.

Ouch. Way to go hurting yourself with your own made-up scenarios. As expected from you.

The three of you decide to cut classes. It’s not like you’re in high school anymore. Professors just don’t give a fuck, unless it’s miss Wong. She’s pretty and quiet at first. Then you have to wait to see her get angry—that’s when all hell breaks loose.

No hell on the loose today. Just three little demons from hell called Hyeju, Daniel and yourself down on the loose and down the road to the noraebang. Hyeju’s in a loose black jacket and a plain white tee. You somehow notice that more than Daniel who’s sporting a graphic shirt with swear words from every language printed on it. You don’t have much to say about your attire when it’s nothing special, not even compared to Hyeju, who’s wearing simple clothes like you.

“If a teacher sees us out here—” says Daniel nervously. He’s never rebelled before. The most he’s done is missing a class.

“No one will,” Hyeju promises him, opening the door of the place for the two of you though in your opinion it should be the other way around: you opening the door for her. What better way to show Hyeju that you could be a gentleman? Too late now. Plus, she doesn’t care much for that. That’s what keeps your excitement on a low burn. It takes more than opening a door and waiting around to impress Hyeju.

You sign your names at the front. Daniel picks a nice, wide room with a glass table perfect for chips and bottles. The bright screen already shows snippets of K-pop music videos, involving sweet-faced Korean girls waving at the camera and running along a beach. As boyish Hyeju is compared to other girls, you could definitely see her doing that for her passion of becoming an idol.

“What should we sing?” asks Hyeju, sitting down on the black plush seats comfortably. Her gummy smile is precious.

“Anything you want.” He slings an arm around her. His looped arm tugs her into a warm embrace. “Anything for the soon-to-be lawyer slash K-pop idol.”

Stiffen. Turn away and suddenly take good interest in the walls with a carved 3D effect. Much more interesting than whatever Daniel’s trying to pull on your best friend. Right, Hyeju’s your best friend. Nothing more. That kiss was a drunken mistake. You shouldn’t be getting angry. Besides, this noraebang was rented for you to have fun, not glower at Daniel doing nothing but be a good friend.

Hyeju laughs and leans into him gladly. “Stop, you’re gonna make me throw up!”

You feel out of place all of a sudden. Has she always been that affectionate with him? You thought that those touches and hugs were reserved for you only. Apparently not.

“Sing a song, Hye.” Your eyes don’t meet her gaze.

“They wanted me to debut with this song,” she says. The mic is shaky in her hand. “I—” She blushes. “I want to sing it for you.”

Sweetness infiltrates the air. It’s not of a scent or touch, but of hearing. It's Hyeju’s voice. It's smooth and soft as it passes through the empty atmosphere. No instrumental accompanies her voice, and you’re glad it’s that way. It allows you to marvel at Hyeju’s tone, quiet in spite of its sexiness.

And it takes that and several songs later, sung daringly by all of your trio, and jokes passed among friends that make you think about it. Really think about it. While Daniel and she sing their hearts out to the point of their voices cracking and laughs transforming into guffaws, you sit there and submerge yourself in thought.

You’ve seen Hyeju smile. It's pretty and sweet; her triangle-shaped mouth curls up into a half moon and it's everything you've ever wished for in life. No, fuck food. Fuck oxygen. All you need is her smile. It's cheesy as hell when you page through those types of quotes in those teenage romance books you probably shouldn't even be holding, but you swear that if Hyeju smiles for the rest of her life, it's enough for you to live. She just looks so pretty. Her resting bitch face, stone cold as the title of the expression suggests, is hot (yes, you're using that word), but when she chooses to smile—oh, you're as good as dead.

You don't like Son Hyeju though.

You’ve heard her sing in the noraebang room with her soft voice filling the vicinity. She doesn't sing much although she could. The day would come when she’d say "you know, I almost became an idol. I trained then dipped halfway,” and the pitched raspiness of her voice still would send you to heaven. It's a natural and beautiful thing, a trait she couldn't learn from the best vocal coach.

You don't like Son Hyeju though.

You’ve felt her hair when she leaned into your lap after laughing too much. "Stop, or I swear to god I will fuck your shit up," she told you, slapping your thigh after your terrible dad joke. You ran your fingers through her hair to calm her, but if anything it's an excuse to just touch her. You want to touch Hyeju, and not even in a sexual way. You just want your bodies closed up on each other with no awkwardness barriering the freedom to hold and be held.

And it’s not the kiss, but all these that make you stop your denial, and discover that you—

“—think I like Hye,” you whisper to Daniel when said girl leaves to get some beer. The flashing disco lights hanging from the ceiling can’t camouflage the red on your face.

Daniel laughs and puts down the mic. The bump on the crafted table sends a tinged pitch of feedback to your ears. “Everyone likes her. So?”

He’s right. Everyone likes Hyeju. Yeah, they like her through every name she’s taken up. She was the star of the school back in middle school when she went as Hyejoo, then the ice princess of high school as Olivia Hye, and finally… as herself now that she’s grown up with you, Son Hyeju. She’s become so many versions of herself and yet people still like the real her. You still know the real her.

“No,” is what you say, as you twiddle your fingers. You don’t know how to say this without causing an uproar. “I like Hyeju.”

He considers this for a moment, weighing in your words. “Like as in… like like?”

A nervous swallow. Is Daniel the right person to tell this ? “Like like,” you reply nevertheless.

Daniel locks his chin between his rough fingers and strokes it thoughtfully. His face is clouded with a feeling you can’t read. “Well, a lot of people do, too. And they wouldn’t blame you for it. She’s—” He looks down at his shoes then back at the noraebang screen. “She’s a pretty girl.”

The understatement of the century. Hyeju’s face was carved with such beauty—curved, pyramid lips; slanted eyes; a cold look that you, unlike people when asked about their first impression of her, weren’t scared of—and she’s just so… easy to love.

Yes, Son Hyeju is easy to love. Everyone loves her, but she can only ever reciprocate it in a different way to one man. Woman, perhaps? Anything goes, but you'd rather she gives it to you.

You're a selfish person, you admit that. More so when it comes to her.

"Let's get this party started!" she says. You don't intend to flinch yet you end up doing it anyway when she sits down next to you and hands you canned alcohol.

"There's only three of us, Hye," Daniel points out. The rounded metal springs up from the can and he gulps down a hefty amount of the spiked liquid.

"Three's a crowd. Especially when it's with you guys."

"So you're saying we're too much?" Match her sass with hidden bits of your own. You're only trying to make it seem like your heart doesn't beg to be held close to hers.

"Too much is just enough for me."

Hyeju drops both of her arms around you and your other friend and ruffles your hair. It's sweet. It should be. It’s exactly that which makes you fail to understand why your heart feels squeezed. Why is she also hugging Daniel in the same manner she hugs you?

The kiss at the bar means nothing. The kiss at the bar means nothing. You have to stop thinking that it means there's a ring on your finger already.

You rise from the sofa to purchase chips because you’re starving, but not for healthy food. You wouldn’t dream of eating a salad when there’s junk food in your general vicinity, and it just so happens that there’s a vending machine you’ve got your eye on at the counter. Soon, a rainbow of plastic bags fills your arms. What they contain would work well to repay your debt with Hyeju. Daniel can eat these without worrying about money. He’s been a good friend. He deserves chips after the evil you’ve thought about him.

"I bought chips—"

Daniel is pushing Hyeju to the end of the sofa and has his lips locked on hers. His hands are in her hair. Her eyes are shut. You can hear the sloppy sounds of kissing bouncing off the noraebang walls. The instrumental from the radio is the cherry on top of everything.

Does this kiss guarantee a ring?

"Wow," you say. Nod then laugh, as if doing it would make your situation better. “Wow.”

Hyeju turns her head and scrambles for broken dignity. It's too late. You've already seen it. Daniel doesn't even bother running after you when she bursts out of the room to chase you. You're immovable—each step is a promise to take you far away. You trust that promise to skewer you away from Son Hyeju, Son fucking Hyeju who led you on and played with your heart.

"Hey.” Her steps catch up with yours. Walk faster, but she only draws closer. You can’t escape from her now. “Hey!”

"What?" Turn to her, heavy breathing lining your shoulders. You stare into her small face and silently dare her to make an excuse.

To your surprise and her audacity, she does. "It's not what it looks like!" she says, swallowing. How could she be the one near tears when she's the one who kissed him? "Let me explain—"

"I know what I saw."

"Well, you don't see the bigger picture. He sm—"

"—smart? Funny? Rich?" Laugh and shake your head. Your laughs sound more and more genuine. You've gone a little sick in the head. "Yeah, I know. But hey, we're not supposed to be anything, right? Why am I mad? It's not like our kiss meant anything."

"Please, oppa. Listen to me."

"No, go sing together,” you say, then thrust the junk food you bought in her arms. “I’m sure you’re better off with him.”

Mean it. Turn away. Don't bother to look at her when you know she'll go crawling back to Daniel. He's totally her type. He's everything, you're nothing. He's smart, you're not. He loves her more, and you do—just not enough. Now you understand why they were so touchy and close in the room.

Anger is irrational when it was just a kiss. The two of you weren't official, either. If you weren't before, you sure as hell aren't now. It's just not meant to be.

She likes Daniel, not you. And even though you want to be, you aren't supposed to be angry at Hyeju. She was swept into a high school love triangle that happened a little later in her life, and ultimately chose the better guy. No need to drop names. The kiss was enough for you to know which man she chose.

Besides, you don't love Son Hyeju anyway. Isn't that what you've always told yourself? That's right. You don't love her.

Denial is a river flowing down your cheek.

The dorm becomes a cemetery of the living dead. You and Hyeju have not spoken to each other for three months. She stops waking you up for class, and you do the same. The place is notably cleaner after the two of you rely only on yourself to tidy up. Lost are the sarcasm, friendly touches, teasing arguments. It’s like the two of you never knew each other.

It’s through this that you discover that you have to be careful what you wish for. You always thought about Daniel putting himself in your place, and it happened. Ever since the kiss, Hyeju’s been chattier with him, and he pulls her close the way you used to, and she smiles at him like she used to at you, except that it’s wider now. They’re together. Officially together; you’ve seen their Instagram posts.

Moreover, she’s happier than ever, flourishing without you.

And you? You’re still stuck in that noraebang, replaying that fateful kiss over and over in your head. Each time you close your eyes you see Hyeju and Daniel in a passionate liplock. It’s the kiss that ruined what you had with Hyeju and has made your quality of life deteriorate. You didn’t know that Hyeju makes up almost every part of your day. Mornings are empty without your stroll with her. Post-exam nights aren’t as fun when she’s not there to bring drinks. Afternoons are lonely when she’s always out with Daniel.

You hate the fucker. He knew you liked Hyeju. You’ve told him about it right before the thing he did with her even happened, so it’s impossible that he’d forget. Besides, like he said, the two of you are always together. He surely would have picked up the signs. Unfortunately, he whisked her away just like that.

You dislike to feel like the scheming guy in coming-of-age films who doesn’t get the girl, but it’s the perfect portrayal of your emotions.

Wake up for class. She does, too. You have the decency to not gawk at how good she looks even in a casual tank top and plaid shorts, but she doesn’t even try to hide that she’s staring at you. Just not for the same reason, you assume. You’re just her boy best friend. With the way things are, you aren’t even a friend to her anymore.

You smear cheese onto a soft slice of bread. Still, her eyes are on you. From the corner of what takes up your vision, you could tell that she’s trying to figure out how to make this less awkward. You’d think that an eternity’s worth of effectively giving each other the cold shoulder would make her learn how to do it. She’s a smart girl anyway. She should have figured that out.

“You know… you can’t just keep ignoring me.”

Freeze—it’s the first time she’s spoken to you in a while. And you weren’t prepared for that. It’s like someone threw a punch in your stomach, but it’s also a breath of fresh air. How those two feelings could converge into each other you don’t know.

“So stop it, will you?” she continues. She swings her legs out of the duvet and places her hands snug on the edge of her bed. “Stop treating me like I’m a…”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m your fucking ex,” Hyeju snarls. The duvet crumples in her fist.

Scoff. Fold the bread slice tight onto the other squared end. Talk about a good morning. “Ex? We were never a thing, Hye… ju.”

Right, it isn’t like that anymore. You can’t call her Hye like the old times.

The hurt that registers on her face, still pretty in the midst of pain, comes by so fast it would take a magnifying glass to see it clearly. Now she’s the one scoffing. She recovers quickly from the stifled nickname so well that you never would have guessed you disarmed her. “That’s the thing. You’re right—we weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. So why are you acting like I’m a ghost?”

“I wonder why,” you say. “Couldn’t be because you kissed me then decided to kiss another guy while I was away. Nope, totally out of the question.”

What happened? It seems like just yesterday the two of you were throwing insults and playfully quarreling with each other like it’s natural. This is a real disagreement here. This can’t be resolved with a smile or hug. You and Hyeju aren’t like that anymore. It’s a thing of the past.

Just like your friendship.

“If you’d just let me explain—”

“You know what? I don’t have time for this. Go with Daniel to class. Have a good life with him. Just call me if you get lost.”

Don’t even try to take a bite out of your cheese sandwich. You leave it on the table. Later, it’ll become stale and cold, similar to your friendship with Hyeju, or whatever kind of fucked up relationship you have.

You storm out of the dorm. You’re glad to get out—you’re already worried about the test later and the night class with miss Wong. Don’t need a situationship to take up your mind either.

The day passes like a car on a rocky, jagged road. It’s difficult to muster a smile to the freshmen the moment you come in to help miss Jeong teach, or work on your test when that argument with her fills your mind rather than equations you should have memorized. The whole day is torture, and you don’t dare wish it on anyone. Not even that asshole Daniel

“What’s up with you today?” people ask you. “You sure you’re alright?” “Where’s Hyeju?”

You don’t answer.

When the night comes, it’s relief for your sore mind and body. That test beat you up and the sun was too cruel to your skin. Even if night classes could last till the brink of dawn, you don’t mind. Take comfort in the fact that it’s only a discussion and nothing more.

Barely listen though. Two a.m. creeps by and you haven’t taken in a thing. Usually miss Wong would have you focused, keeping in mind that she’s strict and merciless, but you’re too tired today. Your bones ache though you didn’t do much walking. They’re only symptoms of heartbreak.

You don’t want to see a doctor. In fact, you want to get worse.

Miss Wong looks up at the clock. “Is it alright if I extend for just five minutes?” she asks. Her pencil skirt struggles to contain her strides on the platform.

A chorus of mixed responses echo in the classroom. Others, the top students in particular who participate in every club you could name, say it’s fine. Some already have excuses to make: they need to work on homework; they have other classes to go to; every excuse existing. You don’t know which side you’re on—you don’t want to come home to another angry night with Hyeju, and at the same time, you can’t be assed to stay.

Then—

Ringing. It’s all you hear. Your classmates’ voices drown out in it. It’s supposed to be soft, but it isn’t anymore when everyone shuts their mouth in alarm. Look here, look there. You don’t know where it’s coming from.

Your hint is the light in your pocket. Fish it out. It’s coming from your phone.

“I thought I told you guys to put your cellphones on mute during class,” Wong says, sighing. Her glare shoots you a warning.

Okay, you’d say sorry to her and put your phone away. Drop the call. Anything. But the first thing you do is wonder:

Why the fuck is Son Hyeju calling you?

Aside from all the tension between you, your natural instinct is to answer. Your next is to ask her, “Hye?”

“Oppa…” comes her voice from your speaker.

Before you could wonder why she’s calling, you notice that Hyeju’s voice is… lonely. Yes, lonely. That’s the word you’d use right away if you’re asked to describe it. No, it can’t be just that. It’s mixed with something else. It’s higher, a little more groggy.

Forget that you were fighting. Forget that she kissed Daniel and broke your heart. She wouldn’t call if it isn’t something even her pride can’t protect. “Hyeju? What’s wrong?”

“I’m lost.”

Those are the two words she utters before breaking into sobs. You’ve never heard or seen Hyeju cry. She likes to treat problems with anger rather than sadness, slicing away at every conflict with groans and cursing professors for low grades. If she’s crying, it must mean something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong.

You’re keenly aware that all eyes and ears are monitoring your moves, but you don’t care. You rise from your seat and start gathering your laptop into your bag. You forget about your notes. Fuck them. Hyeju comes first.

“Where did you go, Hye?” Walk out of the class. If miss Wong has a problem with that, she can tell you about it tomorrow.

Sniffles on her end. Her quiet, low cries break your heart. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I need you, oppa. I have… I have nobody else. Please come and get me.”

“Hyeju—”

“Please,” she whispers. Her voice lowers to a whine. “I’m alone. I’m so alone.”

Tears itch at the bottoms of your eyes. You have to come and get her. Need to forget the fight and silent treatment that ensued. All that means nothing if Hyeju’s in need of your help.

Where the fuck are your keys? Remove them from the loop of your jeans and click the button. In the driveway, your car’s headlights shine. Yep, there it is. You once regretted buying a secondhand car like that. Now that it can get you to Hyeju, you vow to take care of it for life. You’d spend thousands to repair it if it breaks down.

But right now, it’s Hyeju who’s breaking down. She’s all alone somewhere and she needs you. In a way, you need her, too. She’s the one who’s braver to admit it.

You’ve never driven faster in your entire life. All the while you stay on the line with Hyeju. Your grip on the wheel tightens whenever she lets out a hopeless little sob. She’s crying so hard that you want to roll into a ball in the corner and cry, too. You can’t do that. You have to be the stronger one, the one who comes to her like she’s done for you and tells her that everything’s going to be alright.

You make no promises.

Eventually you coax a location out of her and break several speed limits. Ignore the cops that yell at you. They can all go and fuck off. Hyeju needs you. You’re her best friend. It’s what friends do.

“Motherfucker,” you curse, upon seeing that the location she led you to was a club. It’s hidden in the corner of a creepy alley. “Hyeju, are you drunk?”

“Nooooo…” she drawls, giggling through her tears. “Your voice is so nice, oppa. It really makes me feel better. Did’ya know that?”

No time to be flattered. You burst into the club and find her in the midst of flashing lights and crowds of bodies. Your ears ring because of the music. Whose idea was it to hire this DJ? He thinks he’s doing such a good job, too.

Hyeju’s in the center of it all. Her black coat is too big for her, but so is the crowd. When it moves, it drags her along by the toes. She’s… smiling? Wasn’t she crying on the phone just minutes earlier? Maybe she drank more. This can’t be good.

“Hyeju!” Start walking faster.

She sticks her tongue out at you and starts to sprint upon seeing you get close.

You have no time for games. This isn’t even in the least bit funny. What if someone spiked her drink? What if that was the reason she’s acting funny? Worse: what if someone’s planning to take advantage of her? All these concerns bump into each other in your head as you run after her.

A couple of “excuse me”s and “sorry!”s after you quickly squeeze in between dancing people. Drinks spilled on the floor. Anger from two dolled up ladies. (A look to your right and… yep, not only from them.) Disapproval from the DJ who even calls you out. Boos from the crowd. You don’t care about them. You only care about getting Hyeju to safety. She can’t be here in her vulnerable state.

Before she could dash out from your line of vision, you grab her wrist. Seal your grip around it tightly so she can’t escape. “Son Hyeju,” you say, glaring at her. Ever since she stopped crying, she started to play around. This isn’t a game but to her it is. A fun game, to be more precise. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Oooh, you caught…” She burps. Playful giggles spill from her mouth. “... me!” Hyeju gives you a drunken smile and claps for you regardless of her right hand being held into position.

“Why are you here?”

“Why are you here? See? I can ask stupid q-questions, too!”

You whisk her away from the ongoing party and into the cold night air. You’re about to throw your jacket on her when you see that she’s wearing one, too.

People are starting to stare. Pray that no one intervenes, even if they have good intentions. After all, you’re a man with a woman under the influence. They have every right to be concerned, but you hope that just for now they know you wouldn’t dare hurt Hyeju.

The wind blows a breeze that almost knocks you to the floor. You draw Hyeju to yourself to warm her. You can’t risk her catching a cold.

”Let me go, oppa!” Hyeju’s mood goes from sad to drunkenly cheerful to pained. She forces her wrist out from your fist harshly. Your arms no longer wrap her. “You don’t like me anymore, right? And I have a boyfriend!”

Capture her hand again. She can’t escape and run away a second time. You’ve done that too much to know that it’ll send her down into a dizzying spiral. You’re cowards, the both of you—that’s why you flee whenever a problem arises. You don’t know how to deal with it.

That changes now. Get in your vehicle. Pull her in, too. “For your information,” you say, locking her seatbelt in place, “you called me. You asked me to pick you up.”

The car roars to life and speeds down the road. The night barely provides light for you to move along. It’s beautiful nevertheless. Stars peek out from the depths of black. The moon is dim yet reassuring. What fate does it have in store for you? Would you accept it if you knew? How could they all look so serene while you have your drunk crush next to you starting an argument?

“And you’d loooove not to do it, wouldn’t you?” Hyeju’s words suggest that she’s no longer that drunk but the way her words come out like jumbled words in a newspaper crossword tell you otherwise. She leans against the door and crosses her arms. “It was a mistake to call you. You, you fucking hate me.”

Does she really believe that? You may hate Daniel, but you never once hated Hyeju. You’ve only had wistful feelings for her even after she kissed him. You still checked up on her socials and watched her as she ate lunch with him. You remained loyal to her, like a dog following its owner through scoldings.

Yeah, you really are just her dog.

“I don’t hate you, Hye,” you say with conviction. You’re determined to make her believe that. It’s difficult when you’ve never been the type to be good with words.

“Yes, you do! You wouldn’t even let me explain why I kissed Daniel!”

“For fuck’s sake, I was hurt! I didn’t know what to do!”

“Then hear me out for once!”

“Alright.” Your hands slap the wheel, unintentionally bumping the horn and causing Hyeju to cringe. “Go on. Tell me what happened.”

“He was the one who kissed me, the fucking idiot! He kissed me out of the blue and wouldn’t stop!”

Wait.

What?

Daniel, your friend and Hyeju’s, initiated the kiss? Hyeju didn’t want it to happen?

If only you knew, you would have beaten up Daniel a long time ago.

You can’t even speak. You had it all wrong. You can’t believe there was an explanation for everything and you refused to hear it.

Hyeju begins to sob again. Her words circle in the air like an incantation. It’s equally because of the alcohol and her emotions. “I was… talking to him about my training, but then he kissed me.” She wipes her face and laughs humorlessly. “He started making out with me and, a-and I didn’t know how to stop it. It was like I was frozen.”

“You… you didn’t kiss him?” Your tone is broken and incredulous. “He made you do it?”

She looks almost offended. “Why? Why would I ever kiss that bastard?”

“But you’re dating him.”

“I am,” says Hyeju, hands in her hair, “Hah, okay. I'm dating him, yeah, but that’s just because I thought you didn’t like me. I only want one person in the world, and it isn’t Daniel Smith.”

“Hyeju—”

“It’s you, you clueless little shit!” She punches your shoulder and muffles her face into your car pillow. Her next scream is elongated, filled with frustration. When she lifts her face from the pillow, her eyeliner and blush are smeared and wet with teardrops. “It’s you, and I only want you!”

In vino veritas.

The confession is as out of the blue as Daniel’s kiss was. You’re in a state of shock and disbelief—too much information is coming into your brain. You want to punch Daniel in the face for shocking her with an unwanted move. You want to hug Hyeju. You want to tell her that you’re sorry for not hearing her side of the story.

Most importantly, you want to tell her that you want her, too.

It’s too late now. She’s seen you disregard her voice and choose to have a one-track mind. There’s no way she wants you anymore.

“Why the fuck would you ever want me, Hyeju?”

“Because!” She lets out a shivering little sigh. “You don’t treat me like… hlk, like I’m a trophy to show off. You’re my friend. You know how to be mean but you take care of me even if I’m too moody sometimes. Even if I don’t want to come along with you outside because I’m scared I’ll make myself look stupid in front of you. Even if… even if I love too hard but don’t show that I love you most and that sometimes you take care of me more than my dad does and I know it’s wrong to see you that way when I’m with him now but I really want you to take care of me but still kiss me too if I need it and be okay with me calling you names like ‘daddy’ and still being your best friend besides being my boyfriend… but I know it can’t happen anymore and I ruined everything—”

“Hyeju.”

More tears flow down her face. “—and I know you won’t ever love me the same again but I’ll regret forever, long after we graduate, that I never showed that I loved you, that I was a coward—”

“Hyeju,” you say, gently. Pull over at the university parking lot. You have your finger on her mouth, sealing them to stop her droning. She pauses. She doesn’t do it without breaking down. “Please. Don’t tell me you don’t know it. It’s been happening under your nose every single day.”

“What?” she murmurs, eyes glassy as they connect with yours.

“I like you, too.”

Silence. Several beats go by. They’re too lengthy to be fake. The next nuance confirms that:

Talk about relief. Talk about passion. As if she’s forgetting that a sudden kiss was what opened Pandora’s box, Hyeju grabs your face and does exactly that. Again, it has too many things to it that blocks it from being faux. The unique shape of her lips mold onto yours, as if your lips were made to kiss each other all the time. It’s back to the café again, wherein she does something and you subconsciously follow along. Your hands are on her phenomenal waist. And soon you’re unbuckling her seatbelt so she could sit safely on your lap, where she’s supposed to be. Where she belongs.

She drops her touch to your shoulders. She massages them, and you groan delightfully. Now it’s your turn to hold her face and lean in closer. Hyeju’s mouth tastes of sweetness and alcohol. You don’t know how those two tastes could mix together. Hyeju makes it work.

“Oppa, daddy,” she whimpers. She pulls away. The distance is still close to nothing. “Daddy, I love you.”

It’s a sudden nickname, still detached from when she uses it with you jokingly, yet there’s no hesitance here. You know your truth. “I love you, too, Hyeju.”

“Will you take me to bed?” She starts grinding down on your shaft needily. “Please say you will, daddy. Please say you’ll make me happy.”

“You’re drunk. I… I don’t know if I should.”

“‘m not. Maybe. But I’ve wanted it to happen for a long time,” Hyeju says. “I won’t mind, I promise.”

She couldn’t get any more sober with that. So you do what any man would do if they were called daddy by Son Hyeju: lift her out of your car, not caring to check twice if it’s locked, and bring her to bed. Take her coat off—she won’t need it if you’ll make her warm from the inside and out.

Her arms round your neck and her face is buried in your chest. Her words come out in a desperate, needy tone that you haven’t heard from her since the day you met. Who exactly were you to make her this small?

Her daddy, of course.

See, as tough as Hyeju makes herself out to be, she’s still needy. She still has her own problems that haven’t let go of her now that she’s older, like the daddy thing. You only fully understand it now when you lay her on the bed and continue kissing her. Hard. Her moans call out for you. They aren’t merely things to whine if it feels good. It’s not even a matter of want anymore; her shivers and cries indicate of her carnal need for you to do what you will with her.

“Don’t be scared,” she tells you, closing her eyes as you kiss her perfect jawline. “You wanted me for so long, right? Well, I did, too. Do what you want to me. Fuck me, daddy.”

“You talk extremely dirty for someone who’s drunk,” you chuckle.

“Not so drunk anymore. You make me sober.”

“Sweet talker. You’re all bark and no bite.”

Hyeju has no retort to make. Your lips on her gorgeous nipple render her speechless. The cute pink nub is hard, and grows harder at your loving suckles. Her breasts are the perfect size for squeezing. Relish in that fact by squeezing her left breast while dedicating more of your attention to the other, making her become sensitive with each action.

You’d say you have bite, for you do so lightly on her breast. She gasps. “Daddy!” she cries out.

“Fuck, don’t say it like that.” Your cock throbs already. It’s the same feeling you get all those times before, the times you’d get into an argument with Hyeju and she’d call you that.

“What? It’s not my fault you can’t handle me,” she says wittily.

“Don’t try me.”

“What?” She cocks a brow. “Hit too close to home?”

You have to shut her bratty self up. Tug her pants off, sliding them off her silky legs. Her pink panties are a hint to the gentle color of her pussy. Find out about them anyway—push the underwear aside and shove three fingers in her.

“Oh shit.” Hyeju’s squeeze on your digits is instant, like an impulsive reaction.

Think about if Daniel has done this to her before and pick up the pace. You’re fingering her like the walls of her soaked pussy would banish him and let you have her all to yourself. “Son Hyeju,” you growl, “shut the fuck up.”

“W-won’t—ah!”

If you don’t make her quiet, you’ll at least reduce her words to pathetic moans. You’d say you’re successful. Your rapid thrusts send Hyeju’s screams paralleling the night wind with their strength.

You’re surprised again and again at how loud she could get. She’s always so quiet except for the occasional sarcastic remark. She can make no more of those if faced with the relentless fingering you do unto her pussy. They draw out strings of dampness when they withdraw, and fill her right to the knuckles when you go back in. Her hips squirm and you have to place a hand on her thigh to continue.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy!” she screams. Her mouth is open while she sits up to look at what you’re doing to her vulnerable cunt. “It feels so fucking good, don’t stop!”

She looks beautiful. Her shirt is lifted above her breasts, making them bounce madly due to the timing and force of your thrusts. Her eyes could never be more watchful. She can’t believe she actually has you between her legs and fingering her to orgasm.

“Got any comeback for me, Hye?” you ask smugly.

Hyeju nods. Her lips are parted again. Although you haven’t had sex with her except for now, you know what that dropped jaw means: she’s close.

Her walls are impossible to part completely. She’s too damn tight that you bet she’d still be so with one finger. The grip of her slippery, wet cunt is like no other. You reach deep into it and stroke out till you find the place. That’s how Hyeju starts to shiver. She can’t manage it.

“Oh, yeah? What do you have to say now, sweet?” Wrap your lips around her nipple. It’s another one of your unfair advantages over her.

“I-I-I—I can’t!”

The recoil of Hyeju’s tits is amazing. Harshly squeeze the boob you’ve relatively neglected to make sure she can’t get a word out of those pretty lips. Take a further step and smack it, too. She moans in satisfaction. Your harsh squeezes imprint a replica of your hand on her pale skin.

Of course, you don’t forget to keep your fingers going. You change techniques now and then, switching from gentle circling to rapid fire shoving. Whether it’s one or the other, Hyeju’s fuckhole swallows you up. She doesn’t mind which or what; she needs your harshness the most. It’s what counts as a whole.

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum! Please make me cum on your fingers, make your babygirl cum… oh—oh, fuck!”

Combined with your thumb nudging her small clit and your digits absolutely destroying her tightness, Hyeju does the unthinkable: she squirts on your hand and on your bed. Liquid gushes on your shirt; it’s so consistent and clear that a new determination is founded within you. It’s to make your unbearably hot best friend cum like she never has.

For the record, it’s the first time you’ve made a girl squirt. You didn’t expect that it would be this satisfying. Seeing Hyeju’s blissful face and the shake of her beautiful legs make your efforts worth it. Watching yourself do it to your best friend and make her feisty, boyish self let out screams and pleas brings increased triumph.

“No, oh god, it’s too much!” Hyeju says this but her legs part more. Her head is tossed back and her moans don’t stop. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t—daddy!”

“Messy little brat.” Rub away at her clit. Feel the spurt of her cum hit your finger. “That’s it, cum for daddy. Keep those pretty thighs open.”

Hyeju mewls at the mixture of degradation and moans. If Daniel had said that to her, she probably would have thrown up in a bucket. When it’s you, on the other hand, everything changes. She wants you to call her every harsh name out there and accompany it with sides of praise. She’ll only feel this good when she’s with you.

Hyeju is anything but obedient. Things change here in the dorm, where her pussy is spread and prone to your touch. Her midriff, soft yet slender, rises over and over. The hose of her wet orgasms still hasn’t stopped.

“Goddammit, you’re squirting so much. Am I that good, hm, Hyeju? Is daddy that good to his pretty little girl?”

“Mmm, mmm, don't— no more, daddy, no more!” Hyeju’s core is already spent, and you haven’t even put your cock in her yet.

Stop. Not before you leave a kiss to the sensitive bundle of nerves that you abused. It’s a mark now, something invisible that subtly says to everyone that you got to fuck her. You got to fuck Son Hyeju. You made her cum like never before.

Spit on Hyeju’s center then spread it to her lips and nub. She moans. “You’re so wet, Hye.”

“Whatever.” She’s blushing. “I’ve had better.”

You have to say you’re a little provoked. You know it’s false seeing the smug look on her face and after making her squirt, but who exactly has done her better? Daniel? Definitely not him. The possibility still does well to spur you to jealousy.

“Oh,” you say, smiling tightly, “so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

Hyeju gasps happily when she’s pushed to the wall and on her knees. It’s reminiscent of how Daniel did exactly that: pinning her to the wall before kissing her. Your anger brews into a fire just thinking about him.

“Yeah. What’re you gonna do about it?”

Unbuckle your belt. Your jeans join it on the floor as well as your briefs. “I’m gonna clean that dirty mouth of yours.”

“And how are you gonna do that, daddy?” Hyeju pretends not to know what’s coming.

It’s your belief that actions speak louder than words. That’s why when you place your cock in between Hyeju’s lips, it resonates inside her more than your promise to purify her mouth. Logic fails here when dirty sins can’t remove Hyeju’s dirty words. One wrong and another doesn’t make a right. Oh, who cares? This isn’t a class. This isn’t your thesis. You focus only on feeling the softness of her triangular mouth, the wetness of the back of her throat.

Holding your cock by the base, you lead its tip into rubbing every corner of Hyeju’s mouth. Her cheeks make an outline of your girth as you press your head against them. Her jaw becomes slack after you press your dick down to her tongue. You’re technically doing all the work here because you’re fucking her face, but you’d argue that Hyeju contributes just as much with her tearful eyes that are more puppy than wolf.

The shape of her wet orifice leaves ample space for you to rub against everything. Your tip draws a triangle on her lips right before slipping inside. There you keep your word and clean her dirty mouth. Push those naughty words down her throat with immediate thrusts. That way, she can only moan, nothing else. No sass can be heard from her now.

“You’re such a bad girl, Hyeju,” you say. Curl your hand ‘round her messy hair and direct it downwards. She groans, her mouth now upright for yout fuck easier into. “You shouldn’t like having your mouth used like this. You shouldn’t be on your knees for your best friend when your boyfriend’s waiting for you at home.”

Hyeju knows you’re right. She shouldn’t. She isn’t supposed to enjoy having her throat rammed and spread. She shouldn’t be cheating on the man she claims to love. It’s a mistake of hers to be here anyway, underneath another man.

Her second mistake is to like everything the way it is..

Her third is to tongue your shaft like she would a sweet treat. She wants to taste all of you, from your thick tip to the base. She’s not had much to work on with Daniel, but she knew it would be a good time when you sprung out your cock. She makes this worth it—she seals her lips at your base, her nose pressed firmly at the bottom of your tummy, then produces such a harsh suction that the grip you have in her black locks of messy hair tightens. A curse is what you let out besides precum.

“Fuck,” you say. Pull her head closer. Aggressive thrusts fire away. “Didn’t know your pouty little lips could suck dick so well. I bet it’s bulging your throat. Is daddy right about that?”

She tries to nod. Her gags stop her intended action; your thrusts have sped up and are now destroying her tight throat. No space is left for her to breathe when her mouth is stuffed with your length. Even her nostrils can’t take in much air if her nose is pressed that tightly to your stomach.

Place a hand on the wall in order for there to be no aches for her head when you thrust wildly. “You know, I changed my mind. Maybe you’re a good girl, especially with that face. Go on, touch yourself. I know you want to.”

Permission is granted by her daddy. Hyeju gives a cry in response then leads her hand between her legs. Letting you fuck her face has made her wet beyond imagination. She doesn’t need to press directly on her pussy when there’s slick all over her thighs. She gathers them all up and places them back in her pussy. She moans as she swirls her digits inside her. Here’s how it works: she has one hand masturbating, and the other on your thigh to caress it and at the same time keep her balance.

Take note of that. “You’re a smart girl, Hyeju. Smart girls shouldn’t be letting their faces get fucked. We can’t have that happen, right?”

You say that yet your actions tell a different story. Your violent pumps into Hyeju’s mouth to use it to the limits are endless. Hyeju’s moaning. She enjoys it more than she should. Of course, you jam those moans, as pretty as they are, down her throat.

Slap your cock on her lips.

“You know what I mean.”

Slip the whole of your length out then in again. Make her brush those luscious lips against every inch.

“We really, really can’t have that happen.”

Caress her cheek. Her eyes are awaiting and obedient. Look down into them and almost feel bad for ruining her, your best friend.

“Daniel might walk in anytime. He’ll be looking for you.”

Your movements are cruel as time goes by. You shouldn’t be treating your best friend like this. You shouldn’t even be having sex with her. All of these ought to stop you in your tracks—you don’t.

“And what will he say when he sees his precious girlfriend on her knees for his best friend?”

Hyeju begins to whine. She doesn’t want him to walk in; she’s enjoying this too much. What she doesn’t want to happen even more is for you not to blow your load inside her warm throat. People can’t have what they want all the time, but she swears she won’t want anything else if you just give her what she wants. That’s for you to absolutely use her. Be cruel to her and it wouldn’t sting.

“He’ll start to think how better you are with me. You’re a bad girl, Hyeju. You know that and you still want me.”

You’re right in every way. She is better with you. You just fuck her better, treat her better, kiss her better. She can’t kiss better the wound she’ll leave in Daniel if he just so happens to walk in. Maybe she could, but she’d put salt on it when he discovers how good you make her feel. It isn’t fair to anybody. To you, the one she accidentally hurt; to Daniel, who was the one (no, make that the two with how he was her last resort and how she gave him false hope); to her, who can’t go without you.

“Let go.”

Nine.

It takes exactly nine strokes in between her folds for her to cum. Drool sheens your girth. Some even drip from her mouth. It’s like she’s in heat; she’s whining as she tries to cum and suck you off at the same time. Hyeju ends up sucking your shaft with desperation, legs quivering and threatening to give away.

“Cum with me, Hyeju,” you command her. Pull out, rather regretfully, but take comfort with how pretty she’d look covered in your cum. Your hand wraps around you and jerks you off. Although it can’t match Hyeju’s mouth or her ass, it’ll do well in shooting your load on her.

Your best friend keeps calling your name squeezed between “daddy”s as she fingers herself to orgasm. She collapses pathetically on the floor, in a pool of sweat and cum. Her shirt and the floor of your shared dorm room are stained. No need to wonder where those white stains come from; the only suspects are you and Hyeju. It’s a partnered crime for her squirt comes out at such a velocity that it rivals your cumshots.

“Take my load, Hyeju, fuck!”

If there’s anything Hyeju isn’t, it’s submissive. It somehow changes when she nods and opens her mouth. You’re introduced to a whole new side of her. Her post-orgasm face is one you hope to admire everyday. Look at the expressions she makes when her eyes are crossed and her tongue is out for you and you have difficulty choosing between the two.

You and Hyeju exchange a tired look. If you’re to be specific, a look is how everything starts. You became friends with her because she was staring at you too long a time in class. You quickly reunited with her in college when you looked to your back to see to whom the familiar voice belonged. It took one quick glance to see that Daniel had kissed her in the noraebang.

Similarly, a look is what causes you to shamelessly throw Hyeju on the bed again. By now her limbs curl into yours like this were a completely natural thing that happened between you, as if she were always being fucked and manhandled like this. Your kisses now are more aggressive, too. They aren’t nervous like earlier, when you still weren't sure if doing this was right. Hyeju responds by engaging in a battle for dominance, pushing forward and pulling the forces connecting you.

You win in the end.

Slam her back down to the mattress. Her anticipation is written clearly in her eyes. “I’m going to ruin you, Son Hyeju,” you say.

She laughs in your face. “Bet.”

Alright. You’ll show her. It’s a friendly bet you’ll take all seriousness in.

Align your dick with her waiting cunt. You shed all attempts to tease her or dive into foreplay. What she needs is your cock inside her, rearranging her insides. If that’s so, you’ll give it to her.

“Oh!” Hyeju gasps. Her pretty eyes are big above her hands covering her face. She never guessed you would feel this good inside her. “You’re so fucking big, daddy. It's, it’s better than I imagined, fffuck.”

Steer all your weight into this thrust specifically. Your tip makes contact with her G-spot and sends her legs shaking. Send her a couple inches further on the mattress. Her godly tits begin another round of bouncing. There’s no other routine you’d love to watch.

Already you've put your hands on her hips. They’re to pull her closer if she gets lost. Again. You have to make sure you won’t lose her this time. This chance was given to you for a reason. You have to keep her here, show her all the love you’ve kept bottled up all these years.

Hyeju squirms a lot. That’s what your grip is for. It’s to keep her on the bed so she can easily receive your pumps. And what a good job she does at receiving them—Hyeju’s hips shiver as they’re subjected to a force her sensitive pussy can’t handle. She’s always going into things she can’t handle. This is no different. Time with Daniel was okay, but you’re a different story. You ensure that she’s always filled to the hilt until she’s bottoming out.

Deeper and deeper you go. Your cock knocks up into her tummy. You curse; it’s hotter than it’s supposed to be. Something as simple as that shouldn’t be so arousing.

“Oh, you like that? You… you like seeing your big cock stuffing my little pussy?” asks Hyeju. Her teeth are parted to let in air she so desperately needs to formulate these words. She knows they’ll turn you on. “I know you do, daddy. Look at your meat ruining my insides. You’re going to cum so much inside me. And I’ll take it all. I’m a good girl. I’ll show you I’m a good girl.”

She leads your hand to her throat and closes your digits around it. Get the message. Squeeze there tight. Her strangled gasp is everything.

“You are, huh?” you say. Your composure is long gone. “Are you always this tight, Hyeju? Are you always this good? Or is it just for daddy?”

There’s something incredibly hot in the way Hyeju gushes and screams for you. Her nipples stand in the air, aroused by the quick penetrating done to her pussy. It seems almost impossible for her to be this wet. Each push of your hips brings forth a gush of wetness that wets the sheets and your joined crotches. Bring out your cock for a second to quickly flick its tip on her clit.

Hyeju gropes her own chest with closed eyes. “Ohhhh, fuck!”

Return to your routine of drilling her. Her whole body reacts violently to your pounding. Moreover, every part of Hyeju’s beautiful body screams to be touched. Her jiggling thighs and breasts, her midriff prone to your thrusts, her face that’s never looked this slutty… where should you start? Your touch is given multiple choices, and you choose all of them. Your hands roam her body and squeeze and feel and grope. In response, she moans. The volume of her acute voice turns up with each, almost like her body has triggers that would draw out louder sounds.

You think of it that way and now Hyeju’s screaming as you propel inside her while keeping a hand on her clit.

“Daddy, o-only you, daddy!” she proclaims in a helpless scream. “No one can make me feel as good as you do, just keep fucking me, don’t stop!”

You’ve got your answer. Smile in satisfaction and, since she’s a good girl and gave the correct response, lean it to worship her breasts. Does slapping them count as worshiping? Hyeju thinks it does—her high groans and yells are enough to be context clues. You marvel at the size of her chest, so subtle with the baggy clothes she wears but now in their full, naked glory before you. It’s impossible for them to be presented to you without a squeeze being done.

“You like my tits, daddy? I’ll let you fuck them all you want, just finish inside me. I’m safe today. Promise, p-pro—”

Bury yourself deep inside her, to the point that your cockhead pushes at her cervix. Fill her up. Hyeju moans happily. She rolls her body up and down. The stimulation seduces you into making (kind of) breeding her a job well done.

“Thank you, daddy.” she sighs. She’s still erotically grinding her hips. It’s karma for overstimulating her a little earlier when your fingers filled her.

“S-stop, Hyeju.”

“Stop? Alright, sure. I think that’s enough now. Daddy doesn’t want to fuck my tits anymore.”

Naughty little brat. She knows just the right words to tick you off and turn you on. It makes you want her to pound her into the bed again so that not even the old mattress can forget that it was the place you and Hyeju fucked.

“I’m just kidding, silly. Sit down! Yes, thank you.”

She flashes you a smile after you do as she says. It’s a rare moment in this session with her that she has the say in what happens. Somehow. It can’t be completely true, not when she’s on her knees again for you. Not when her tongue trails worshipful lines on your cock and draws tight licks on your tip. Shiver. You’re a bit sensitive yourself.

“Now see how good this feels?”

She takes her glorious breasts in her hands and wraps them around your cock. You let out a guttural moan. Hyeju’s tits rival her mouth and pussy. It’s a close competition, with the advantage of softness most of all. Oh, when she starts to move, gliding her supple skin up and down your size, you almost cum on the spot.

Her bosom is a portal to heaven, you swear. Your legs feel light. Your core is hot as your size disappears between her breasts, buried in the soft and safe haven she provides. The friction is so overwhelming that you doubt it could even be a real sensation.

She makes a show of rubbing your tip on her nipple, similar to what you did to her clit. The two of you are sensitive, so you moan in harmony as it happens. After gliding your cock on her large breasts, she goes back to titfucking you.

It’s all a matter of technique. Whenever she presses her chest together, your cock is suffocated with euphoric tenderness. On the other hand, when she simply moves up and down, you’re given the opportunity to grind down at the skin between her pale breasts. Each route leads to an inevitable fate: exploding all over her a second time.

"P-please stop, Hyeju," you say. You can't handle no more and there's so many more things you want to do to her.

"Awh." She pouts. Fat tears risk spilling from her eyes. God, she could be so cute sometimes. "What do you want, daddy? I can be good."

"Turn around."

"Ohhh, I see what you want." Hyeju turns around and spanks herself. Her ass ripples photogenically. "Of course. Of course you want it."

Hyeju can be so many things. A few minutes earlier she was a submissive babygirl for her daddy, and right before that she was a brat. Now, she transforms into a seductress. She doesn't lace or lingerie to become one. She has that fantastic body to do the work for her.

Hyeju starts to dance. Your eyes are trained on her. They never want to see anything else than her swaying her butt with a dancer's grace and charm.

"Giving me a show, huh?"

"Unless daddy wants it already."

"I do."

She squeezes her ass cheek before reaching her pussy. Then, she rubs her wetness on her pink, puckered hole. She lathers some at the inside of the rim, too. She didn't expect to fuck you today, no matter how many times she's dreamed of it, so there's no lubricant around. Hyeju has to make do.

"Oh!" she squeals when you give her a playful smack on the ass. "Impatient. Daddy's impatient. Don't worry, I'll give it to you."

“You did this before?”

“Duh.” Hyeju smiles sweetly, quickly returning to her good girl side. “You ready now, daddy?”

Apparently, it’s a rhetorical question, for Hyeju immediately guides your tip into her backside. You do your part in spreading her cheeks. Both of you moan at the first contact. It’s difficult by itself to insert just your tip through. She’s too tight.

You’re sinking into this long-chased dream. You’ve seen Hyeju walk around the dorm with no shorts on. Sometimes you're able to catch a glimpse of her bare ass when she dresses up in the dark. It’s normal when it’s with you, considering that your friendship transcends time, but she doesn’t know that yearning’s been put in your heart in those moments. You want her. You want Son Hyeju.

And now, she’s submitting herself to you. She’s given you her body, her tits, her pussy. Now she offers you an equally delicious choice: her supple ass that’s bouncy as it finally sits down completely on your lap.

“Good daddies bounce their babygirls on their knees, right? Should’ve known that, dummy. So come on, pound me. It isn’t hard.”

Well, you are. Hyeju’s ass is constricting you yet you enjoy every second of it. Her tight little asshole clings to you as you do as she says. You’d do anything for Hyeju, and that doesn’t exclude engaging in anal sex with her.

Choose a rhythm to go by to enjoy the tightness Hyeju gives you to the fullest. She leans into you and hums quietly, lower lip worried between her teeth and ass steadily rising and resting. The flexes of your thigh also stimulate her needy pussy. Your knee brushes her clit steadily while your cock penetrates her asshole better than any toy could. Better than any boy would.

“Oh, that feels so good, daddy…” Hyeju murmurs. “Keep spreading me like that, yes.”

Just when she thought you’d switch to being gentle, your thrusts become sporadic. She can’t find which timings you’re going by. The calm before the storm, so to say. Hyeju’s whimpers and whines are your thunder, and they soon live up to their name when they grow louder, filling your ears as would the violent downpour of raindrops.

“D-daddy, daddy, oh my god—” Pain partners up with pleasure in wrecking her hole. Darn you for reaching in front of her to rub her clit as well. Too many things are happening at the same time. “Daddy better make me cum, please, please—”

Your size fills the tight space of her ass so much that it’s difficult to move. The juices of her pussy that she’s used as makeshift lube can’t even do the job they’re assigned to. However, you don’t care about that. You simply fuck Hyeju’s fat, delectable ass like it’s been your long-term dream. In a way it is, but you’d be dreaming about it long after it’s already been fulfilled.

Hyeju stands up to take the lead and work her butt on you. You know she’s an excellent dancer but you never knew she could be this good at twerking either.

“Holy shit, Hyeju, your little asshole feels amazing,” you moan. Spank her, though she’s undeserving of punishment when she’s amazing at using that ass.

“And your cock is so fucking big in my ass,” she says. “I don’t want anything else, daddy. Ohh, god, keep doing that.”

Her rear end bounces and claps together as they take in your fat cock. She looks back at you lustfully, watching you ruin her supple ass. Reach for her breasts to match the velocity of her thrusts. You’re two forces colliding, each filled with fire to defeat the other with pleasure. It’s a losing game when Hyeju’s ass is just as good as her pussy, which you continue playing with to bring her to orgasm.

“Good girl, Hye, keep bouncing that fat ass on daddy,” you whisper in her ear. Love to hear her weak little moans; they show you that she likes this as much as you do. Probably more. “You want to cum, right? You want to squirt on me again?”

“Yes, daddy, please!” Hyeju is in paradise although her skin feels like it’s been set on fire. She hasn’t felt this good before. “No other cock can do me the way you do, daddy, I’m all yours! Make me cum, cum inside me, daddy!”

You’ve changed her. She’s a totally different person outside of the bedroom. She hides her approval in sarcastic comments and teases you about them. How is it that she’s completely submissive and good for you?

Your ego swells. Smack her pussy just enough to make her gasp. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours, daddy!”

“And this ass?”

“It’s all yours, daddy,” sobs Hyeju. “Always so fucking big inside me, so much better, you need to make me cum—”

Pull her down to your lap then thrust inside her all while not letting an inch withdraw from her snug butthole. “Cum for me,” you say.

“Ohhhh fuck!”

Hyeju begins her sexy body rolls again as a profane spray of clear liquid fires from her pussy. She’s so wet; when you rub her clit, a squelching sound is produced. She’s too turned on from the feeling of you savage pounding inside her. She slaps her own pussy to go along with your rubbing, then leads your fingers inside her cunt again. She’s still so tight.

The combined feeling of two of her holes being violated has her tired. She could be murmuring a spell and you wouldn’t know because of how jumbled and jarred her words are. The syllables make out your name and title. At least, that’s what you could understand. It would take an experienced veteran transcriber to make sense of Hyeju’s sounds.

You blast her ass with so much cum that it overflows, like water threatening to spill from the brim of a glass. Your joined cores are so wet and sticky that neither of you feel like moving. You want to stay in the narrow yet pleasurable comfort of each other’s touch forever.

It’s so pleasant that you could only hear the gratifying sound of each other’s pants and not the knocks on your door.

So safe that you don’t hear the sound of a lock being skewered with because each other’s bodies are more homely than this dorm.

So distracting that when he comes in through the door and yells in disgust, it’s the first time you feel an awakening sobriety.

1K notes · View notes

youremyheaven · 21 days

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Saturnian Women: Bad Girls to Trad Girls? 👀😲👩‍🏫

Saturn is the planet of discipline, restriction and rules. Saturn is considered a "strict teacher" who uses discipline, difficulties, delay, duties, dealings, and denials at times to ensure that the student really imbibes their lessons.

There has been much discourse lately on Saturn mahadashas and tbh, I would say to not worry about it too much. Saturn punishes but it also rewards, so if you stay true to its teachings, i.e, keep your head down, do the work and stay firm but humble, Saturn will give you success in proportion to your efforts.

Jennie, Vishaka Moon, finished her 19yr Saturn mahadasha in 2019 and you can clearly see the many themes of Saturn that played out in her life. She spent 5yr living overseas by herself as a child with another family (Saturn deprives you, to some extent, of your family's love and support) and after she moved back to Seoul, she began living at the YG dorm and trained for 5 years and 11 months, which is one of the longest training periods among popular idols today. She has talked about how she's never lived at home or had the experience of living with her family until she was 18-19 and she's always sounded bittersweet about it but all her hard work paid off. Today she's the face of K-pop, one of the most successful idols of all time, an icon and an it girl. She gets torrential amounts of hate over her "attitude" for the supposed partiality that YG had towards her and yes for being "lazy". This is Saturn's harsh energies coming through. Are Jennie's performances lacking from time to time? Yes but is she the only idol whose performances feel meh/"lazy"? No. Is she the only one who gets brutally called out for it? Largely, yes. Saturn does not allow you to get away with your skimping and most definitely does not let you take shortcuts.

The reason most people suffer during this mahadasha is because its human nature to want instant gratification and choose the "easier" option. But yk who does not like that? SATURN. This planet is all about being principled and doing things the "right way". You cannot do something immoral and expect to get away with it during this mahadasha but another thing about Saturn's influence is that it often makes natives deliberately "rebel" or step out of line because they internally crave punishment and want to be disciplined. Think of Saturn like the dom in a BDSM relationship and yourself as the bratty sub who's always asking to be punished. Its kinda like that. I've noticed this with many Saturnians as well as people experiencing Saturn dashas, they have no intention of being "bad" or doing the "wrong things" but they do anyway?? because they want Saturn to discipline them and put them in their place. Often times these natives choose the "harder" path subconsciously by forgoing many chances to choose from other options. They really want to prove themselves "worthy" and "deserving", sometimes to their own detriment.

Karina from Aespa, Punarvasu Moon is also currently undergoing her Saturn mahadasha and so is Wonyoung, Purvabhadrapada Moon (they'll both finish their Saturn mahadashas at around the same ish period of 2031-2032). They're both incredibly successful so if you're experiencing this dasha, dw about Saturn depriving you of success bc its not true. You just have to work hard.

Wonyoung started training at 12yrs of age when she was a few years into her Saturn MD and Karina also started training during her Saturn MD (she was 16 tho). They both spent yearsss training and became massively popular upon their debut (Saturn rewarding hard work) but often got unwarranted hate for absolutely nothing because Saturn "punishes" you to keep you humble in the face of massive success. With Wonyoung, I feel like her Magha Sun (leo rashi) works in her detriment in this dasha because she can be very self indulgent, come across as pompous or bratty or arrogant and Saturn does not like those things 😬with Karina, she received hate initially but things were cleared up and it was understood that those rumours of her being a highschool bully were fabricated along with those fake screenshots and some of her old classmates spoke up about her virtuous character and how kind and sweet she actually was. This is again, Saturn's karma coming thru. Good karma will help you out of tough places in life. Karina has kept her head down and worked hard, people criticized her initially for being a bad dancer but now she's known for her stage presence and x factor.

She's now known for her kind, humble and goofy personality because that is who she really is. Saturn rewards those who remain down to earth and humble and all the love Karina receives now (she is the most followed 4th gen female kpop idol surpassing Wonyoung in less than a year) is part of Saturn's rewards. However, she still faces challenges, like with her dating scandal or with her Chinese boycott last year but again, its her willingness to stay focused and power through that has helped her navigate those situations with grace. She hasn't been dragged the way Jennie or Wonyoung has been. I also think her having Mercury & Venus in UBP (a Saturn ruled nak) has helped her embrace Saturnian principles easier than the other two but she also does have a debilitated Saturn so ://

I think Jennie has had it especially tough because she's Uttarashada Sun and Sun & Saturn are enemies so she's struggled to be as grounded and docile as Saturn wants its natives to be.

If you think about it, there is a reason why all the Kpop it girls have Jupiter ruled Moon and experience Saturn mahadasha at the height of their fame. For starters, the Korean music industry is very "restrictive" in nature and idols are very tightly monitored and controlled (all Saturnian themes) and those who thrive the most in this system are Jupitereans who are undergoing their Saturn MD. They learn to channel the expansiveness of Jupiter through the restrictions of Saturn. Think about how Jennie, Wonyoung and Karina have all been deprived of creative freedom, how their labels pick and choose their endorsements and limit their interactions and in general, despite being young, rich and famous, they live like blue collar workers in some ways?? This is all Saturn's effects. It makes you work hard, rewards you for it but does not let you indulge too much in it.

There is a reason why Jupiter moon is soooo common among popstars. Performing in front of packed stadiums with 50,000 fans is an experience only few get to have in this world and to get that, you have to toil day and night through punishing schedules and constant travel where you dont enjoy yourself materially. This is a very blatant manifestation of Saturn restricting pleasure and enjoyment. (Jupiter ruled Moon natives experience Jupiter dashas first and then its followed by Saturn mahadasha, so usually at their peak, they're undergoing their Saturn MD)

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Now, I want to mention something Claire Nakti mentioned in her Saturn men video, she said that Saturnian men are often extremely rebellious when they're younger and deliberately "act out" because they crave the punishment and discipline that Saturn imposes on them. They subconsciously want to be put in their place. This sounds hella masochistic but I think its helpful to think of it in terms of BDSM dynamics (dont laugh lmao). To an average person, its confusing as to why someone would want to be spanked or tied up or hurt or be in "pain" or be submissive but some people genuinely derive pleasure from being in that position, that's what's fun for them. They "ask for punishment" bc they enjoy being "punished". I dont want to say Saturnian individuals are kinky masochists who deliberately do things that will lead to terrible consequences and harsh punishment but tbh, there is no other explanation for their behaviour. I suggest watching Claire's video where she cites manyyy examples of Saturnian men "acting out".

In Claire Nakti's video about Saturnian women, she mentions how these women are more at ease with following traditions and submitting to them than others because they find it 'freeing' to obey.

But tbh, although women internalise their qualities more in general, I think Saturnian women are just as likely to have an "unruly/rebellious phase" before they embrace the rule abiding nature of Saturn because the truth is limitations are what gives us true freedom. Saturn teaches us that if you have "too much", you can feel confused and lost. it's more important to have "enough".

Hwasa, Pushya Sun

Hwasa is a great example of Saturnian natives and their need to both rebel and conform. Hwasa belongs to the group Mamamoo and although they're all talented, they weren't as successful as other Kpop groups in the mid to late 2010s, esp since they also came from a smaller company. In 2018 at the MAMA awards, she performed in this red latex bodysuit and went instantly viral and her performance became vvv controversial since its practically unheard of for a kpop idol to reveal this much skin or put on a performance that is very sexually provocative. she received a LOT of flak for it, people bodyshamed her, slut shamed her etc but this also brought a lot of attention to her and her group and people started taking more notice of them.

Hwasa was on the cover of Cosmopolitan later that year (you have to be a pretty big deal to land mag covers in Korea esp when you have sooo much competition from sooo many idols/actors etc, Hwasa was up until then just an idol from a smaller company whom others often criticized for not being "pretty enough").

Hwasa continued to "rebel" by posing semi nude, appearing on the cover in what Koreans considered "immodest" clothing etc. But some of the criticism subsided bc as more and more people discovered her music, her talent as a singer and performer stood out so they started praising her for her talent & hard work (Saturn rewarding hard work).

she continued to receive a lot of flak for her outfit choices and Hwasa it seemed was almost hell bent on pissing Koreans off by doing exactly those things that they shunned. She was criticized for this look as her bra is visible through a sheer top and what did she do next?

she went to the airport in a white top and no bra 😂😂needless to say K-netizens were PISSED OFF. but at the same time she started making appearances on variety shows where she gained praise for her humility and lack of pretence. (Saturn punishes but rewards)

this is an excerpt from her 2020 interview with Cosmo (the Cosmo cover above is from her 2019 cover), here we can see Hwasa admitting that "one year ago I was more daring because I felt like I had to be that way no matter what" which reflects on how many Saturnians are rebels without a cause. She then says that "As I go on, I feel like I'm being more strict with myself" showing the progression from the rebellious, unruly phase to one that embraces strictness and discipline. This does not mean becoming a doormat, it means you become more gentle and patient. Its through suffering (which Saturn def brings about) that we learn grace.

I think Hwasa has described it well.

Saturn is considered the most aggressive and cruel in Indian astrology. It symbolizes karma and rewards or punishes based on one's deeds.

Selena Gomez, Pushya Stellium (including Sun & Rising)

When her Revival album came out in 2015, Selena was 23 and trying her best to shed her Disney girl image. So she did what most child star turned popstars do, she posed nude. This was very out of character for a girl who wore a purity ring until she was 18 years old and was generally perceived as the "sweet innocent" one among all Disney stars.

During a roundtable interview in 2022, she said

"I actually did an album cover and I was really ashamed after I did it," Gomez said. "I had to work through those feelings because I realized it was attached to something deeper that was going on. And it was a choice that I wasn't necessarily happy that I made, but I think that I've done my best, at least I try to be myself. And I'm not an overly sexual person, sometimes I like to feel sexy, but that doesn't mean it's for somebody else. It can be for me. Now I understand that there are certain boundaries that I need to set for myself, and I respect and adore so many people, but I’ve got to do what’s best for me."

Obviously the need to "rebel" against her Disney sweetheart image was imbedded in her by the people who work with her, like her management team but Saturn's most powerful tool is regret. You do things without much thought or act out or act rebelliously and through regret or after suffering its consequences, you learn to draw boundaries and impose limitations upon yourself. Just because you can do certain things does not mean you should do them. Saturn teaches us this by limiting freedom.

Miley Cyrus, Anuradha Sun & Mercury

We cannot talk about Disney stars gone wild without mentioning Miley lol

She was the biggest Disney girl of her time and worked vvv hard, doing world tours starting from her early teens and then filming the show, girlie basically never had a minute to spare. Once the show was up, she was in a hurry to shed her Disney image and lets just say... she embodied Saturnian rebelliousness to its extreme.

Miley lost her virginity to Liam when she was 16 and by the time she was 19, she was engaged to get married to the only guy she ever seriously dated. She definitely was embracing "tradition" etc so her "rebel" era was a sharp left turn. She went from being a teen bride to twerking in nude latex on stage. For the next couple of years, Miley smoked weed, embraced a hip-hop sound, wore little clothing and "rebelled". Her rebel era marked the end of her relationship with Liam and interestingly enough, the end of her rebel era was marked by her renewed relationship with Liam.

She entered her soft girl era and started to shed her "rebellious image" and found balance

“I carried some guilt and shame around myself for years because of how much controversy and upset I really caused,” she says. “Now that I’m an adult, I realise how harshly I was judged. I was harshly judged as a child by adults and now, as an adult, I realise that I would never harshly judge a child.”- Miley said in her British Vogue interview

Miranda Kerr, Pushya Rising

If you watch her interviews from the late 2000s and early 2010s, she's super flirty and now she's more mature and ladylike which is kind of a superficial evolution of Saturnian influence.

Miranda is rumoured to have been the world's most expensive yacht girl at one point in time. She accepted $8.1 million worth of jewellery from fraud Malaysian billionaire Jho Low. All these gifts were seized by the government later on bc Saturn does not let you keep things you obtained illegally or in unprincipled ways.

In 2014 during an interview for British GQ (these pics are from the shoot) Miranda said:

"The older I get, the more confident I am about asking for things I enjoy," she said. "One thing I've noticed is now that I'm having less sex my body isn't as toned. The more sex I have, the more defined my arms and stomach get. Orlando and I always had great chemistry. One-night stands aren't my thing. I made Orlando wait for six months until I even kissed him… I always ask for a critique on my performance. I always want to better myself in every way."

She also said,

"Let's put it this way, I've had an orgasm in the air before. Alone. And together." 😲😲

This is sooo remarkably TMI for a woman who now presents herself as so poised and ladylike??

After she started dating her now husband Evan Spiegel, CEO of Snapchat, they remained celibate for the 2years they dated prior to marriage and Miranda said they're "very traditional".

Interviews of Miranda now make her sound like one of those femininity coaches on YouTube.

"My grandma taught me that men are visual and you need to make a little effort," the model said in an interview with The Edit. "So when [Evan] comes home, I make sure to have a nice dress on and the candles lit. We make time to have a nice dinner together. At work, I'm like, 'We need to do this!' and, 'This needs to happen!' But at home, I slip into my feminine and empower Evan to be in his masculine."

In another interview, she said:

"Don't feel like you have to do and be everything. Let the man do some things for you, because if he cares for you, he will want to. When I get home, I'm not the boss like I am at work — I slip into a more feminine role. I take everything off and put on my Stella McCartney silk robe. I'll put on a red lip or red nails, and it lifts my mood. Sexy underwear also gives you a spark. I collect underwear from my travels. Lace, lingerie, bodysuits ... they're like souvenirs."

And in yet another interview, she said:

"He would rather me hug him than give him foot massages. He's like, 'Can you just come and cuddle up? Can we just snuggle? I don't need a foot massage.' I'm like, 'Come on, it's good for you!' … He's very loving like that. I'm a very lucky girl."

She went from being a "rebel" to living like a trad wife.

Eva Mendes, Pushya Moon

She's yet another Saturnian who had a rebellious early career ("rebellious" for a woman basically means capitalizing on your sex appeal) and then embraced a more "traditional" life.

In 2020, she said:

"You can’t do sweatpants,” she said on Extra while promoting her makeup line, Circa. “Ladies, number one cause of divorce in America, sweatpants, no!”

This is again an example of a "femininity" minded person who thinks women have to "ladylike" (Saturn embracing traditional gender roles).

She took a 10yr break from acting to focus on being a mother and said that if she returns to acting she wont do "violence" or "sexuality" which she did do prior to her marriage and motherhood. She also got married later in life and had this to say:

“When I was 40, it was a big deal for people when I was pregnant, and it wasn’t for me,” Mendes said. “And then I was 42 and I was pregnant with my second one and people were like, ‘Oh my God, you’re going to be so tired. That’s why people have kids in their 20s.’ I was like, that’s the most sorry, asinine thing I’ve ever heard.”

She continued, explaining of parenting, “It takes more patience. In my 20s, I shouldn’t have even been around a child. I was just foul-mouthed and smoking. I could not have raised kids in any other era of my life but now, for sure.”

She's indirectly referring to a more "rebellious" phase of her life and how now she has the patience to be a mom. one thing Saturn teaches you is patience, thats for sureee.

Saturn influence also causes delayed marriage.

Madhuri Dixit, Pushya Moon was 32 years old when she got married (in 90s India this was ancient and not as "normal" as it is now).

Salma Hayek, UBP Moon

there isn't enough dirt on Salma to show that she had some "bad girl" past to move beyond but she struggled for many many years. her life really exemplifies the delayed success of Saturn bc saturn truly rewards patience

Rani Mukerji, UBP Moon

She got married when she was 36yrs old and is married to one of the biggest film producers in India.

The themes of Saturn delaying marriage but ultimately pointing to marrying into wealth has been true in the lives of many of these women, including Salma who is married to a billionaire.

Ellen Pompeo- Anuradha Moon

She was 38 when she got married. Another thing I've noticed with many Saturnian women is how they struggle to conceive or have issues with their fertility (usually caused by the delay in marriage as they're older when they become mothers).

Salma has talked about how she struggled with gestational diabetes when she was pregnant and how she wishes she could have had more children. Rani Mukerji has spoken about her struggles with fertility and how she lost her second baby to a miscarriage, 2/3 of Ellen Pompeo's kids were carried by a surrogate.

Monica Bellucci, Pushya Moon

She was 35 when she married Vincent Cassel and had her daughters in her 40s.

Hillary Swank, Pushya Sun

She was 44 when she married her current husband. (She did get married at 23 and was married for 10yrs , which means they separated after her Saturn return)

Jennifer Lopez, Pushya stellium

She married Ben Affleck when she was 53

She was 35 when she married Marc Anthony with whom she has 2 kids and was married to for a decade. All her other marriages were brief and short lived, pointing to how Saturn makes you get rid of anything that isn't "right" for you

Usually whenever Saturnians get married young, they end up getting a divorce. This is a massive generalization and obvs wont apply to every Saturnian but I've seen this with many people, even Miranda Kerr who married Orlando Bloom in her 20s ended up getting divorced after her Saturn return.

Sophie Turner, UBP Moon

Sophie started dating Joe when she was 19 and married him when she was 21 and he was 28. According to rumours she felt really trapped in the marriage and felt like she hadn't experienced much life. She went from being on a TV show for 10yrs and missing out on normal teen experiences to being a wife and a mom. Many have accused Joe of grooming her as well. They've ended up getting a bitter divorce as well.

Mariah Carey, UBP Sun

She was 23 when she married the CEO of her label who was 20yrs older than her. He had known her since she was a teenager 🤮🤢🤢Mariah has, like Sophie described feeling "trapped" in her marriage and how she had "no freedom". Tommy is famously controlling and kept her under lock and key pretty much. He is now married to Mexican pop star Thalia who was once a huge name in Latin music and is now virtually absent from public life. So his tendency to keep his wives locked up wasn't limited to Mariah, I guess.

Mariah divorced Tommy when she was 29 during her Saturn return as well and he made her life hell for the next few years (do not marry and divorce your CEO kids)

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All throughout this post I made mentions of how Saturnians "rebel" and then "embrace tradition" but what is "traditional" isn't always "right". These two things aren't synonymous. Hwasa went against tradition by dressing sexy. Would that be considered scandalous in say, America? No. She went against the tradition of her culture. But it did not make her actions "wrong".

But sometimes this tendency to obey traditions can manifest in more extreme ways and make someone have very right wing esque or conservative views, even.

JK Rowling, Pushya Sun, Saturn in 1h (in Purva bhadrapada)

Rowling was once a beloved author who was known for her highly inspirational rags to riches journey. She became the first writer to become a billionaire. But now, she's known as a transphobe and many of her former friends and allies have distanced themselves from her. Its crazy bc she almost exclusively tweets about trans people and has made it her life's mission to talk about who is a "real" woman and who isn't (Saturn's desire to conform to traditional gender roles) but her transphobic era seems to be her rebellious Saturn phase where she is seeking punishment. It literally makes no sense as to why out of the blue one day she started to tweet and say these things and why she's sooo insistent on her views but its like she's digging her own grave.

Saturnians often do bizarre things that seem like obviously bad ideas to others and suffer terrible consequences for it because they crave Saturn's harshness. She could've never written another book after Harry Potter, fucked off into oblivion with all her money and farmed strawberries for the rest of her life with her legacy intact but Saturn has stripped her of it. I wont be surprised if in another 10yrs or something, she comes forward to talk about how embarrassed and ashamed she is of whatever she's doing now as this is also a pattern among Saturnians to feel guilt and remorse for their past and apologize for it.

Oprah Winfrey- Anuradha Moon

Oprah hasn't been fully exposed and cancelled yet but I hope she gets what Ellen got because she's such a vile, toxic hateful person.

Oprah has a long history of platforming some incredibly toxic people, leading to a lot of pain and suffering. The relevant one right now is Dr. Oz who used his Oprah-given influence to sell scam miracle cures and other supplements.

Worse (in my opinion) is Dr. Phil, who has used his Oprah-provided stage to send children to “reform schools” in exchange for kickbacks. Many (included the infamous catch me outside girl) have claimed that these institutions are hot beds of physical and sexual abuse. There are also allegations that Dr. Phil actively aims to make guests on his show appear less well adjusted so that he can yell at them. Famously, a winner of the show survivor who was struggling with alcoholism claimed that Dr. Phil’s staff gave him a bottle of vodka to drink before the show so that he would be drunk and look like shit to justify Dr. Phil berating him.

Oprah also dedicated two shows to a man known as John of God, heavily implying that he may actually be able to heal sickness through faith in God. He was, obviously, a grifter who would perform dangerous surgical procedures (and would cut people’s eyes with sharp objects) on people without a license. He was also a serial rapist, and several women have claimed they traveled across the world to meet John of God due to Oprah’s show only to be raped.

This example is more fitting of the traits I explored in part 1 of my Saturn dominance post where I talked about how many Saturnians seem to be scammers and liars.

Grimes, UBP Sun

for an edgy alternative indie artist, Grimes has surprisngly trad views

In one interview, she said:

"I kind of like the patriarchy, I like the supply chain, food, Uber, roads... umm, civilization, you know there's a lot of good things that came from it. I think it's sort of oppressive and overly dominant, and if you don't include women in things they can easily become toxic, you know."

she was married to elon musk so im not too surprised that her worldviews are...weird... (she likes the patriarchy bc it gave her uber,,, gotcha...lol)

Sometimes honestly, esp in today's world where everybody has more social freedom esp in America and can do whatever they want, a lot of people "rebel" by embracing tradition. Grimes is actually deploying Saturn's need to rebel against the order by peddling her faux trad views.

The current tradfem movement (that I predicted 2 years ago😌) is a reflection of how each generation rebels differently. You give someone a lot of freedom and they do whatever they want with it but soon enough fatigue sets in and you desperately crave structure and order, so you discipline yourself and restrict yourself. in an era where dating has become so toxic and loveless, a section of society embraces a 1950s type tradwife lifestyle to go against the norm.

there will be a part 3 that expands on Saturn's manifestations further but this is it for this post<333 tysm for reading<33

#saturn #uttarabhadrapada #anuradha #pushya #vedic astro notes #astrology notes #sidereal astrology #astro notes #astrology observations #astroblr #astrology #vedic astrology #nakshatras #astro observations

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